A map of Vermont hangs above my desk. (One is behind it, too.)

A glass of wine, a framed photograph of Travis.

A birthday plant from Elle.

Our cats, doing what they do best.

The mini-waterfall we bought at Ace Hardware that constantly runs and whispers to me that what I long for is the sound of a creek just outside my window. The aqua toaster burns toast but reminds me of a different time. So we keep it.

I want to see what is on and around your desk, what you see from where you sit. If you have a blog, take some pictures and post a link.

You know how I feel about contests. Still, I saw this in Publisher’s Weekly and thought I’d pass this on to you. If you have a dog or a cat and you’re so inclined….

(This is our Rosie, who loves boxes, bags and, well, empty water bottle cases.)

You know how when you read a book that you love, you are elated and then when it’s over, you’re sort of depressed, because you think there will never be another book that you’ll love as much–and then there is, and you’re elated all over again?

I’m reading Anne Tyler’s newest novel and I will say, I love it as much as I loved Accidental Tourist, which was not only a great book, but a great movie adaptation.

This book also interests me because I sense Tyler infusing the book with her life, and I’m always interested in how we translate bits of our lives into fiction.

(Actually, I’m listening to it on CD, with Blair Brown–Days and Nights of Molly Dodd, with the wonder David Strathairn–doing a stellar job reading.)

What are you reading that you love?

…or TV, in any case. Ever see the Showtime TV show, Weeds? More specifically, the intro in which a line of SUVs (Range Rovers, I think) are exiting subdivision? I saw this this morning, the Corona del Mar version, that is.

I went for a walk and on my way home I was coming down the alley and at opposite ends of the alley, black SUVs were pulling out of their garages at the same exact moment, same angle, everything. Then they passed one another. One guy was on a cell phone. Of course.

Remember that old Animals’ song with the lines: We gotta get out of this place / If its the last thing we ever do / We gotta get out of this place / ‘Cause girl, there’s a better life / For me and you …

Uh, yeah…..the song is very much on my mind. The show is interesting, but I don’t want to be living it.

In today’s Los Angeles Times, there’s a story about how independent bookstores that want to stay alive pretty much need to do more than just sell books. They need to sell food, hold performances, form membership programs, and hire employees who can talk books–imagine!

Interestingly, the piece also talks about how there’s been a turnaround, that indie bookstores are opening at a rate of “60, 70, 80 stores” each year.

Sounds great to me.

What do you think about bookstores needing to take on additional roles, other than just selling books?

….it happens. Or seems to. Your story, essay, book sells. The other night Melissa Bank came on my show and talked about how she worked on The Girl’s Guide to Hunting and Fishing for 10 years and endured a ton of rejections and it wasn’t until she had given up, until she just didn’t care anymore, in a deep way, about being published, that her book sold. She was as committed to writing as ever–it was what she did–but she no longer had that deep, longing need to be published. Everyone who has been published and who hasn’t been published, but wants to be, knows what this is. It’s horrible.

I was at that point with Pen on Fire, too. I had been making jewelry and my web designer was putting together a web site because I was no longer banking on getting a book out there. We were thinking of moving back to Vermont and planned a trip to New England right after I sent my proposal off to my agent. Not long after we returned to California, with thoughts to move and with my designer putting together a web site, my book went to auction and sold.

When we are feeling needy for anything, whatever that thing is, it seems to elude us. When you’re not in a relationship, and you just have to have a relationship, there are no relationships to be had. It’s when you say, Screw it, I’m through with men/women, that someone seems to magically appear.