mary e. pearson

. . . come in all sorts of packages.

Some of you may remember the "find" I shared this past spring.

From the humblest beginnings, sometimes wonderful things are born. Imagine my surprise when I went out today and found this little gift. (yes, that is the fungus toe plant barely seen behind it.)




Who would have guessed?

Never underestimate a homely plant. You might be rewarded.

Well! That sure jolted me out of deep lurkdom. I have family who live in Chino Hills where the quake was centered and they are shaken but okay.

I feel bad because this morning Hunter was pacing and panting and wouldn't settle down which is very unusual for him--he's my mellow dog. I followed him all over the house trying to figure out what was wrong. I finally sternly told him to lay down and he did. Is it possible he "knew" what was coming?

It is amazing how much stuff can pile up in my office and I can still work. Besides my desk, I have an all too convenient bed/couch within easy piling distance too. Yesterday, for the most part, I got all the piles under control (yeah, that will last for 5 minutes.) In the pre ALA rush, this was added to the piles:



It is the audio for The Adoration of Jenna Fox. A couple of weeks after the book came out, I got my author copies of the audio that came out at the same time. I was so excited. I've never had an audio book before and I thought it was pretty cool looking. Unfortunately, because I had so many things going on at that time, including not even being home, I didn't have time to listen to it!

Finally, right before I left for ALA, I did! I have to admit, I was a little nervous. (well, a lot nervous.) What if I hated it? What if the reader didn't sound like Jenna at all? Or even a teenager?

Happily, I was wrong on all counts. I loved it! The actress who read it, coincidently is named Jenna. What are the chances?! Her full name is Jenna Lamia and she did an outstanding job, giving each character their own unique voice, and Jenna did sound like I had imagined she might sound. I think what I liked especially, were her pauses. Her timing was so right. Like she really was thinking like Jenna.

Another find: A few weeks ago I had turned the house upside down looking for a top of mine. I finally concluded I must have left it in a hotel during my travels. It is a simple sleeveless top, black, no big deal, but I loved it so I was a little bummed.

This morning I found it!--not in my piles--but in my husband's closet! Last time I put his shirts away, I think I slipped mine right in too. Unless he borrowed it, that is. (kidding, honey, kidding) It's not even his size.

Now here is something you never see in a California school . . .



Yep. That definitely caught my eye. Of course, you might see an earthquake drill sign in a CA school, or if you were a kid in the 60's like me, an air-raid drill sign, but a tornado sign is a new one for me.

In Kettering, Ohio, I met with juniors and seniors at Archbishop Alter High School in their library (very close to the middle stairwell, thank you : )


Again, lots of great questions, and considering we were on the eve of prom weekend and the end of the school year, I felt honored that their minds were there at all. Wonderful group of students.

Next I was off to the most ENORMOUS . . . ( Read more )

I had my book launch in my hometown for The Adoration of Jenna Fox this past weekend. It was wonderful to share the afternoon with friends, family, and neighbors. My sister took photos of the event including this one she artistically altered. Cool. I wish my book glowed on every table.


Before the signing I gave my little spiel well planned talk, and shared a few insights about the book. There was also a photographer from the Union Tribune there and my sister told me he was on the other side of the bookcase behind me getting a picture of the back of my head. Certainly a much better viewpoint.


Then it was time to sign. See those flowers on the corner of the table? A very sweet young man (thanks Dan!) brought those to me.


And of course a picture with my sis who took all the pictures. And I swear we didn't color coordinate our outfits. There were LOTS of blue clothes that day.


When we got back to my house we celebrated and had a butterfly cake that my darling hubby ordered for me.


Oh! And the surprise at my signing!
Guess who came?! Richard Dreyfuss!

Well, not exactly. He was in the store at the time of my signing and then was an awfully good sport when one obnoxious author exuberant author interrupted his browsing and asked if she could have her picture taken with him. It was a fun "close encounter."

More writing thoughts.

Things are not always what they seem:



Sometimes a flower pot is not just a flower pot and if you hang around long enough you will discover its true purpose. When I was working on my last manuscript there was a scene where I wanted to bring out the vulnerability and hidden tender side of my tough cookie MC. And so upon visiting her home where she hadn’t been in several years, she would discover that her doll collection was gone from the shelf where she had displayed them–and have a bit of a meltdown. I assumed the dolls were discarded and I would never see them again–just as my MC thought. But we were both wrong. Later I discovered a deeper purpose to the dolls--that this impromptu detail would be pivotal in revealing a secret later on. I love those surprising moments in writing. If you hang in there long enough, they are bound to come.
On Sunday when I was toting that barge and lifting that bale in the yard, I noticed some small birds and their preoccupation with a hanging pot on my patio. I thought they were just taking moss for a nest somewhere, but this went on all day long so I finally got curious and peeked . . .



oh boy.
Not what I expected to see at all.
It is more than a flower pot now.
It is their home sweet home . . .



with triplets on the way! A nice surprise. Needless to say, I didn’t trim off the old flowers or add water to the pot, although before I knew they were there, I was probably drenching the poor darlings on an almost daily basis and it didn’t seem to deter them from moving in. On the other hand, I don’t want all the leaves to shrivel up and die and stop providing protection.

To water or not to water, that is the question. My writing metaphor doesn’t seem to be helping me anymore. Maybe if I hang in there long enough I will figure it out . . . or I will get some great advice from friends?

Thanks for all the comments on my cover. I'm really happy with it. Glad to hear you like it too.

A friend noted the tattered wings of the butterfly and that it was missing a chunk of one wing. I hadn't even noticed at first. I guess I was so happy with the final product that I didn't pay attention to the smaller details. But that missing chunk makes it even more perfect.

And gypsyrobin, being the butterfly expert that she is, noted that it was a monarch butterfly and a female one too. She also said that the ones with tattered wings have usually traveled many miles and survived predators, cars, and other unfortunate events. Very interesting.

. . . born and bred, I feel pretty honored.

You Belong in Brooklyn

Down to earth and hard working, you're a true New Yorker. And although you may be turning into a yuppie, you never forget your roots.

I have these walking shoes. Big, ugly, toe scuffed walking shoes–but oh so comfortable. But the really important thing about them is TRACTION. You see, every day around 5:30 my husband and I walk our two 80+ pound golden retrievers. Young golden retrievers, so I need plenty of traction to hold my ground.

So yesterday we had a rare event–my husband and I were taking our two daughters out to dinner. My oldest daughter is married and my youngest, between college, work, volunteer work, and a boyfriend, is almost a myth around our house. My older daughter’s husband had work related duties, so he couldn’t go out with us so it was like old times with our little family of four. I was excited. I put on a dressy outfit to celebrate this rare occasion.(What does all this have to do with big, ugly, gross shoes? Hold on, I’ll get to that.)

We’re all set to go with adored daughters–but wait–the “boys” must be walked. At 5:20 a little alarm goes off in their heads and there is no peace until they get their trip around the block. I kicked off my cute little pumps (a sure death sentence when being pulled by bruiser #1) and slipped on Big Ugly Toe Scuffed Dog Walking Shoes (and let’s face it, they have seen a stream or two if you get my drift). Anyway, Mission Accomplished. Dogs walked. Off to dinner! Yippee!

We laugh in the car. Belt out rock songs in the car. Get silly in the car with each other’s company. We are almost to the restaurant when I look down at my feet and see . . . Yep. With my cute little glitttery capris, I am wearing THE SHOES. I forgot to change. My daughters laugh hystercially. My husband joins in. I notice for the first time GRUNGE I had never seen before. Shrug. Oh well. I am having too much fun to really care. Ugly shoes rule!

Now mind you, this isn't my worst clothing disaster. Someday I will tell you about the terry cloth bathing suit disaster . . .

What's your worst clothing story?

I’ve been rereading a few of my writing books–as a jumpstart to get back into my wip–and I read this in A Writer’s Time by Kenneth Atchity. I had a little penciled in smiley face in the margin from when I had read it the last time. It still makes me smile:

“Don’t forget, the audience doesn’t want to be surprised any more than you do. It wants to know, in advance, that it’s going to be surprised so it can worry itself to that point imagining.”

When I read I do like a surprise now and then, but I understand what he is saying. Some of the books that keep me the on the edge of my chair do have me “imagining and worrying” because I know what is going to happen. I just don’t know how and when. Gail Giles book, SHATTERING GLASS, is a good example. You know right from the start what is going to happen–it’s the how that keeps you breathless.

In my current wip, it somewhat follows this format. The reader will not be surprised at what is going on, but it is the waiting for the main character "to know" that fuels the pace. At least I hope so.