"I had a great time at the Southwest Authors Luncheon"

Cucumber Patch, Tucson AZ by Felix Pasilis
"I had a great time at the Southwest Authors Luncheon"

written Monday 8/22/05

I had a great time at the Southwest Authors Luncheon. Yes Sophia was 15 minutes late to pick me up, which is ordinarily nothing, but I had dressed for it. A pretty black velvet skirt with a pattern on it, a gold scooped-neck sleeveless silk top, and a bra. It was sweltering in the house and blazing outside. The outfit was perfect to wear for the air conditioned conference room where the meeting was held, but too hot to wear to wait outside or to lie down on bed in front of a fan. All I could do was stand at the door impatiently.

I had pictured the lunch taking place in the hotel restaurant, I didn't know it would be in a conference room. Hotel restaurants in Tucson are light-filled beautiful places, atriums with plants growing, and skylights, and very fancy. A conference room is a big room with not a single window. When you arrived you line up at the desk to pay the money and get your nametag.

And the whole room was filled with big round tables, and it was filled to the brim. I was starving because I hadn't eaten a thing so I could have a lot of lunch, and I asked “when do they serve the food?” since all that was at the table was iced water and iced tea. She said “usually pretty quickly” and I said “good.” Sophia had forgotten her notebook so I asked the man for pad of paper and pen for Sophia so she could take notes and he brought it to Sophia. I was overjoyed, I was still trying to make it up to her for being crabby in the car.

As soon as we looked into the sea of faces we saw Steve, who leads our writers group. He was at the table to the left, and he waved to both of us, and said “there are two chairs here.” It was very full, maybe those were the only chairs.

When we sat down I recognized one woman and then I recognized the other. One said to me “didn't you go to Steve's writing meeting?” and I said “yes.”

And then I recognized the other. I said “are you Grandma, you wrote the children's book?” And she said “thank you for remembering.”

She is the one who wrote “Stories By Grandma,” and a print-on-demand company had accepted it. And she said she was going to merchandise it by sitting at the mall with her books and a sign saying “Meet Grandma.”

I felt very comfortable being at the table with Steve at the center of it, Grandma on one side, and Grandma's friend from the meeting at the other side. Next to me was a woman who was slender, made up, tad glamorous with lots of make-up, and a whole lot of very fancy jewelry. She said “I am Lala, we just moved to Tucson in June from Denver when it was 110 here.”

My heart went out to her instantly. On June 29th the temp went up to 113 and stayed there for a solid month. By the time the huge heat finally calmed down and went back to 108, it was monsoon season, humidity was added to the heat, that girl must think she moved to hell.

I said “it's not always like this, you will appreciate there is no winter at all, and at least you have the summer over, I moved here in November and each time someone asked 'how do you like Tucson?' and I said 'I love it,' they said 'have you spent a summer here?' and then they would scare me about the summer.”

Then the M.C. went to the mike and the meeting started. And I thought “what about the food, I am starving.” I thought “I am not going to like this one bit, having a meeting when I can't wait to eat.” He opened up with two jokes. “What is the difference between a publisher and a terrorist?” Answer “You can negotiate with a terrorist.” I laughed my head off, and my happiness soared.

Suddenly I realized what this is all about. We are all writers here, and we have all had our ups and downs with publishers, we are in the same boat. Everything I had been thru, they all had been thru, we had a lot in common that I had in common with no one else. Instead of being isolated people beaten down by rejection letters, we were all together having a banquet and celebrating ourselves, making merry about what we had been thru. The second joke was “How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?” Answer, “One to write the mystery and one to give it the final twist.” I loved it and I laughed my head off. I was now a perfectly happy girl.

Then he did success stories, "Anyone who has a success story in past month come up to the mike.” There were only 2, one had gotten a story he wrote about an experience he had 25 years ago published in an anthology. Actually I recognized the name of that magazine, it is political. Another man, totally delighted with himself, showed us the book he just had published by print-on-demand. He was thrilled with the book and said now it is up to him to sell it himself and he will, and he hopes a real publisher will take it. I cheered both men wildly for their success. I was 100 per cent on the side of those in my own boat. I had never been with those in my own boat before.

Then the MC asked how many people are here for the first time, Sophia and I raised our hands. I didn't get to see who else did, Lala did. And when the MC said the table of invited speakers gets to line up first for the food, he said our table gets to line up second because we have the most newcomers. I was overjoyed.

On line I asked Lala what she writes. She said “suspense.” She has written 4 books already and it looks like this latest one will get published, she is in negotiations.

I said “what is suspense?”

And she said “a mystery is where you don't know who did the murder, but in suspense everyone knows who did it except the main character.”

I said “that is a very fine distinction.”

And I pointed out “with the mystery novels written nowadays, the mystery seems to be the least of it, someone gets murdered in the first chapter and then for the whole rest of the book it doesn't figure in at all, and then in the last chapter we find out who did it, and it is always some character you didn't even remember being in the book at all, the story works just because it is fun to read.”

I helped myself to salad and dressing, just two small pieces of roast beef, a nice portion of the vegetable lasagna, and six of the tiny roasted potatoes with herbs on it. They had taken away the steam tray of the hot vegetables to return it with a fresh one, so I didn't get to take any of that. I took a dinner roll with a hard crust and put butter on it. At the dessert table I took a lot of fruit. The cakes looked delicious but I thought I would wait.

When I got back to the table the man came around with coffee and I said yes. The food was scrumptious. I didn’t eat my roast beef, I had taken that for the dogs. And when I had finished my food I went back to get more roast beef for the dogs. I had brought a plastic bag in my purse to slip it into. I helped myself to another small portion of the vegetable lasagna, two slices of cantaloupe, and a piece of the lemon cake. I was actually full but the lasagna, the cantaloupe, and cake were so yummy I ate it anyway. The hot coffee was really good, I dipped my roll and butter in that. It was great meal. And then I surreptitiously slipped the roast beef into the plastic bag in my purse.

Sophia and Lala talked while we were eating. Lala told Sophia how she had arrived in June when it was 110, and Sophia said where did you come from and Lala said Denver. And Lala asked Sophia where she is from. “You are not from Tucson” and Sophia said “Poland.” And Sophia told Lala that “in Polish lala means dull.” And Lala said that is not her real name. And then they talked about their children. And Sophia got to tell Lala about her brand new grandson born two weeks ago. And Lala said she can’t wait to have grandchildren but it doesn’t look on the agenda.

And then the meeting started up again. A woman said she is just back from New York City and she is a member of the writers union, and she will fight for us to have health care and fight for us with publishers, and the writers union is all about fighting. I tuned her out. I am not into fighting, and my problem is not fighting with publishers, my problem is I can’t find one for love or money, plus I have my Higher Self, I don’t need a writers’ union lawyer to fight for me. The second woman who spoke was a producer of films and Sophia is a screenwriter, I am sure she took notes, she is looking for a producer.

Then we did new members introduce yourself. Lala told how she arrived when it was 110, and she is suspense writer, and how her new book Sidney Sheldon in Hollywood became her friend and he is pushing it so she thinks this one will get published. And she belonged to a wonderful writers group like this in Denver and she found this one on internet and she is overjoyed to have found it.

I was next. I said I was a writer back in New York City and I did not get published, and when I moved to Tucson 12 years ago my interests changed and I did not write, but I met Sophia at the pool and she took me to Steve’s group at Barnes and Noble, and next day I went back to writing, and Steve told me and Sophia to come here, so now we are here.

Next, a man stood up and said he wanted to write a book on meditation so he made his own book, he stretched out the clothesline all thru the house and made the book. Then he gave it to his friends and relatives and they said it is boring. He showed us the book. So then he did another book, called “How to Make a Book.” He stretched the clothesline in the house even longer and made a lot of books. He showed us the book. So then his wife got excited, and wrote a book, “All About My Life,” and he stretched out the clothesline again, and showed us his wife’s book. And he said “a few months ago we got a computer, that made new things possible, so now I did a book with glossy pages and color.” And he showed that one. And I cheered wildly.

And then a man stood up and said he wrote a book about a young man in the barrio, and since he is spiritual, that is also in the book. At first the young man is immature and then he matured. And I knew the story was autobiography, but the man did not say that. And I was interested to read his book.

And then a woman stood up and said she just did her book, “Illegals, Who needs them, I do.” And she said how she and her husband have a 500 acre avocado farm and they could not get anyone to do the labor and the illegals came and they hired them. And not only did the illegals do the farm work, but the contractor had quit building their house, so the illegals pitched in to building their house. And it was the most glorious house in the world, with trees growing everywhere in the house and skylights. She held up her book, and said the pictures of the house are in the book. And she said how she and her husband became very close to the illegals and their families and they all helped each other.

And I swooned. I was immensely touched. What that woman said went right into my heart, I was grateful beyond measure she wrote that book.

And after that I was ready to leave. We had been there close to two hours. The MC was introducing the guest speaker of the meeting. I’m sure the guest speaker was wonderful. She was going to read from her novel and answer questions. But I had a perfect experience and I felt completed. I went into the hotel lobby to ask if I could call my husband to pick me up.

She was so nice to me. She dialed the phone number for me. Bill picked it up right away. He said “I am watching the Cardinals play.” I said “can you pick me up, I had a great time, but I don’t want to stay, we can go to Robinson May and exchange your hat and I can exchange the skirt which is too big for the size smaller and then we can go swimming.” He said “I am on my way.” “I am sorry about you missing the game” I said. He said “it’s probably rerun from last night but I didn’t know it was on.”

I sat outside and smoked a cigarette while I was waiting for him. And then I went back inside to be in the air conditioning. The woman at the desk said “would you like bottled water” and she brought out a bottle of ice cold bottled water. I said “thank you.” Just then I saw Bill drive up.

“The meeting was great” I said to Bill “it was really great, I had a wonderful time, I want to go back next month.” “Good” he said “good.” He said “I got the coach of the Wildcats to sign my hat at the scrimmage last night so now I want a new Wildcats hat, the Nike hat I bought yesterday is attractive but I want a real Wildcats hat, they are my team.” So we drove to El Con mall.

I know exactly why the Southwest Authors Luncheon was great. Because it was an academy awards lunch. We, who write passionately diligently every day, and meet nothing but rejection when we send our work to publishers, awarded ourselves, we gave ourselves a banquet. Waiters came around and refilled our coffee cups. Iced tea with lemon was served to us. The most delicious chocolate cake I ever saw was set up on the dessert tray. We got to be convivial at our table. And hear from our fellows at the microphone.

This is a miraculous and blessed thing....



"Joan thinking" by HaikuHelen
"I am going to the Southwest Authors buffet lunch at the Plaza Hotel today"

Sunday morning 8/21/05

I had not gone back to my writing for 12 years, the whole time I lived in Tucson, till Sophia took me to the writers meeting at Barnes and Noble this past April and I went back to my writing the next day. Usually by end of month I have fallen into old habits, but each time I show up at the meeting, the next morning I am back at my machine, giving writing serious whirl.

There may not be an apparent reason why showing up at Barnes and Noble at 7 pm on 3rd Wednesday of every month to listen to Steve tell us how to get published, is what got Anne back to her writing, and is what keeps Anne at it, but that is how it worked out for me.

So that is why I am not going to predict what going to the 20 dollar buffet Authors luncheon at Plaza Hotel today will bring into my life. I do not know. All I know is I am going. Steve says this is how we network and we have to network. The whole concept of networking baffles me. "What does networking mean?" I asked at the meeting before this one. "Meeting people" Steve said. I'm fine with meeting people, I like to meet people.

My own experience tho is things which help me come from unexpected people in unexpected ways. It is because Sally talked to me in pool about the books she read all the time, and then would lend me the books. And when Sue arrived in Tucson she joined the conversation. So I lent her the books Sally had lent me. And when I xeroxed the story about swimming in the Adirondacks as a kid for my mom, a story I had written back in NYC, I made two extra copies for Sue and Sally. That wasn't the story Sue fell passionately in love with, it was the other one, and she said 10 times "you have to go back to your writing Anne, I want more stuff to read."

And Sophia overheard it and told me about the writers meeting at Barnes and Noble, and day after that I was back at my writing. It is unexpected in various ways cause Sally whose whole life is reading books and loving them so much, and because of her passion for reading I made the story for her, Sue was just an afterthought. And Sally did not get my writing at all, she was tremendously disappointed when she read it.

It is the oddest experience I ever had to be in the midst of that 3 way conversation where Sally said to Sue "her writing is a big nothing" and Sue said "no it's not, it is genre writing, genre writing is for a small limited audience who likes that kind of writing."

I didn't care what Sue said to Sally about it because she had lent my stories to her friends. Whereas Sally was overjoyed the clutter was out of the house when I said "you can return it to me after you read it, you don't have to be stuck with it in the house."

Sophia wasn't even in any of these conversations so how she learned I was a writer and got the idea to invite me to the Barnes and Noble writers meeting on how to get published I don't know. But that is what happened and is how I got back into writing.

Hahaha I guess it all came from networking at the swimming pool.

Teaching Maria email and remembering Alfredo Leonardi

Friday May 20 2005 Tucson AZ

I had a great time helping Maria yesterday. We had fun. She picked me up exactly on time and the ride there was enjoyable and fast. Her sweet dog was there to greet us. I sat down in chair in computer room, and Maria brought in from the car the plastic bag containing the items she had just bought herself at Value Village that morning.

First she tried on the jacket, it was champagne silk and fitted her perfectly. Either it was brand new or had just been dry cleaned, it was exquisite. It was 3 dollars but today is half price day. “$1.50!” she exclaimed with huge glee.

The blue cotton blouse was also lovely. It was the shade of blue of the sky and a very nice cotton. Like what you'd wear on a yacht. This had been two dollars but at half price was one dollar. Maria was ecstatic about the blouse and the price.

The two white tops were lovely too. One was simple but elegant white cotton pullover sweater. The other was elegant white sweatshirt for walking Seema on winter mornings when it is cold. “50 cents each” Maria announced with joy. “I will take you to Value Village” she said. “I don't have very much money to live on” Maria said, “I like Value Village.”

We had talked about money in the car on way over. She said she appreciated me helping her because she doesn't have the $35 or $40 to pay someone to do what I do. When we sat down at the computer Maria said she has a perfect life but she doesn't have enough money, all she wants is more money. “Me too” I said, “I want more money. I am playing the lottery.” Maria got very excited. “It is 17 million now, I will buy 5 tickets.” I said “I buy 4 tickets each week.” She said “if either of us wins let's split it, half for you half for me.” And I said “Great! Maria, we double our chances.”

This time Maria was in charge of the whole lesson which went so well, she knew exactly what she wanted. First we went to email and she said “I will write an email, I will write to Bal.”

This is the guy she is in love with. She remembered perfectly how to do it. She got out her pad and paper and wrote “I was happy to hear your voice this morning, it brought me big joy, I would love to see you now.” Something along these lines, more mushy. It was a love letter. “Love, Maria.”

After Bal she did not know who to write to. First she said “I will write to Jerry,” that is her son, then she changed her mind. Then she said “I know who I will write to” and she looked all over the kitchen for the address and could not find it.

We tried spell-check on her letter to Bal so she could learn spell-check. I was totally shocked at AOL spell-check. This letter only had 18 words in it. But they picked up every time she had left two spaces between a word and also there were a lot of punctuation errors. The only spelling they picked up was the spelling of his name and her name, which of course she spelled right.

So then Maria decided I should teach her internet. She had used the word internet interchangeably before for everything, which had thrown me off. She used the word internet when she meant computer. “Teach me internet” she had originally said, when she meant teach me the computer. Then “teach me internet” she said when she meant email. But I think this time she actually meant internet.

I couldn't figure out on the AOL browser how to get into internet, so I just had her type google on top of the page we were in, and google showed up. So then I knew my way around. I said “ok Maria let's pretend we wanted to find out about the Racquet Club.” The Racquet Club is the club Maria and I both belong to and where we met.

“You type in 'Tucson Racquet Club' and we will see it.” Neither of us knew how to spell racquet. Maria wrote it down on her pad, and I said “I think there is a 'c' in there, let's try it.”

In the course of doing this Maria learned how to go forward to next page and back to previous page. We found Racquet Club and she read off all about our club.

Then I said “let's look up the guy I was friends with before I met Bill, he was Italian from Rome who was a film director, if we can find his email on google I can write an email to him asking if he will read your screenplay.”

Maria was totally into this and so was I. So I wrote down his name on her pad for her type in, Alfredo Leonardi, and we googled it. There seemed to be a lot of movies directed by Alfredo Leonardi and starring Marco Leonardi, who I figured was the little boy, his son, when his wife came at the end of his visit to NYC and they went back to Rome together. Finally one of the entries was for a film collective in SoHo in Manhattan which lists Alfred Leonardo movies to buy and the film collective had an email.

So I said “OK finally an email address, I will write to them and ask them to forward it to Alfredo Leonardo.” “Great” Maria said. So she got up and I sat down in her computer chair. And I composed my email outloud as I was writing it. At the top I wrote “will you kindly forward this email to Alfredo Leonardi since we were old friends.”

Then I wrote, “Dear Alfredo, do you remember me” and I wrote my maiden name. And I said how I had stayed in the same apartment in the East Village in Manhattan where he had visited me for very long time till I moved to Tucson Arizona. That I met my husband a year after he returned to Rome. That I remembered the nice times we had, going to the beach together, and when I jumped out of the canoe.

I said how my friend Maria wrote a screenplay and is he willing to read it. Would he send it to another director if it is not for him. And I gave my own email address cause I said I am on Maria's computer. And would he write back and say hi to me because it would be fun for us to say hi again. And I sent my love to his wife and son.

Both Maria and I were delighted with my email. I changed the font to make it prettier and then I did spell-check which picked up one mistake. I had said “I am no longer wild but I am not conventional.” And I had put two “i's” in wild. So spell-check corrected that. I showed Maria how spell-check takes out the misspelled word and replaces it with the rightly spelled word, she was impressed.

We were both satisfied with my letter. “I hope the gallery sends it to him” Maria said. “I hope so too” I said. And Maria was lost in awe at what internet could do. She saw with her own two eyes here was someone I knew in the '60s and because of internet I was able to write an email to him. I even think we might have found his own real email if Maria had had the patience to press all the different entries for him. But this was a start, even if the email doesn't get to him, Maria got an idea of what internet can do, which was the point of the lesson.

And of course it was tremendous fun for me to be writing to my old friend Alfredo Leonardi. We had been best friends, I have total warmth for him, and I never would have emailed him except for Maria wanting someone in the film industry to read her screenplay.

I am curious if Alfredo will write back. I have never kept track of the boys who walked in and out of my life before I met Bill. At the time of course I was involved with the boys I had crushes on, and the boys who were just my best friends I didn't think so much about. But now I don't remember so well the boys I had crushes on and I remember perfectly the ones who were just my best friends, because those are the ones I shared my life with.


Alfredo and I hit it off right from the start because we were so relaxed with each other. He wasn't at all what I expected when Anna from Rome, who I had met the week before in the laundromat and who invited me to a party at her apartment that evening, said she had given my phone number to her friend Alfredo, who was film director from Rome.

This was the time of Marcello Mastroianni, Michelangelo Antonioni, etc. I thought I was being fixed up on a blind date with Marcello Mastroianni. I guess he must have met me at school where I taught and then we walked over to a luncheonette near by for our date. And he was not one bit like an Italian movie star. He was very diminutive to start off, and he strikes me now as looking English somehow with his rolled-up black umbrella as he waited for me. I guess he wore dapper clothes too.

But since he didn't look like a movie star and I was not attracted to him I relaxed instantly. And for some odd reason that I can't explain we totally hit if off in the luncheonette on Grand Street. It was an orthodox Jewish neighborhood, the neighborhood was like my Jewish neighborhood back in Queens except they were all orthodox. I guess it was a good setting for me to relax in.

And all I can say is from that moment till he left for Rome, or to be more exact when his wife and little boy arrived at the end of his NYC sojourn, Alfredo and I were inseparable.

What I did was take Alfredo with me to everything I did in my life, except go to work. He couldn't come to women's liberation meetings with me because those were all women, but I took him to everything else, and I guess we had our meals together in the restaurant on Avenue A too.

When I went to the beach on long Island on weekends with my girlfriends I took Alfredo. His bathing suit totally embarrassed me. He wore a teeny weenie white bikini men’s bathing suit. I didn't say a word but Alfredo looked around Jones Beach and said “I see I am the only one wearing a bathing suit like this.” “Yes!” I said pointedly.

When Marilyn called up me and Helen to invite us to the week-end conference for socialist Jews at a bungalow colony in the Catskills, I invited Alfredo. I have no idea what Marilyn's group was all about. We went to the meetings and there were big fights. But I had only wanted to spend a weekend in the country. That is when Helen and me and Alfredo paddled in the canoe and smoked pot and I got stoned, took off my clothes, and swam naked to shore.

I alluded to this in the email I wrote him from Maria's computer yesterday, since he had told me next morning it had made a big impression on him. I thought what made a big impression on him was my adventurous act of jumping out of canoe and swimming to shore. But when he detailed the big impression, it wasn't about what I had done, it was about me naked. Because we were just best friends and not boyfriend and girlfriend, I had not let him finish telling me how much he had enjoyed that.

But when I was writing a “remember-me” email all those years later, I figured that would reawaken his memory if he forgot me.

The last time I saw Alfredo was at Lynn's party. His wife and little son were there, and his wife was blond and pretty and wore wrap-around skirt and was very interested in women's liberation. She was a very nice girl. Alfredo and I really were two ships which pass in the night. It was easy come, easy go. He waltzed into my life so easily, he waltzed out of it so easily. It never occurred to me to try to hold on to the friendship.

In fact I never gave him a thought after he left till I was writing a story about my days with Helen in women's liberation, and I remembered how Alfredo, me, and Helen had gone to that conference at the bungalow colony, and that brought back my time with Alfredo to my mind.

And I remembered him again when Maria said she is looking for someone in the film industry. And I thought I know an Italian film director....