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May 5, 2008

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Gender: Female
Status: In a Relationship
Age: 99
Sign: Cancer

City: NY-NJ
State: New York
Country: US

Signup Date: 06/07/06

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Wednesday, May 07, 2008

The Big O--no not that O
Category: Life

Well—we're headed for yet another exciting experience tomorrow! Donna's having an "O"PERATION--outpatient hand surgery and Virginia's the designated driver and responsible person—which could be the beginning of a joke, but isn't---this time

Back in November, Donna fell-tripped going up the stairs at her dermatologist's office and smacked her left hand on the marble steps to break her fall. OUCH!!! It plumped up like a Ballpark frank. They gave her an ice pack at the skin doc's, examined her epidermis and sent her on her way. She dosed herself with Aleve, and returned to work. After all, we had a deadline! And for the next two months she typed with nine fingers or more accurately eight fingers, one thumb, and one swollen appendage that looked more like a big fat sausage than a thumb. It didn't work too well either.

We went on book tour, had parties, signed a heap of copies of Gotta Keep on Tryin' and finally, two weeks ago she saw a doctor, because it still wasn't right.

Virginia said, "It's probably broken and now it's healed and they'll have to re-break it so it sets right."

Donna said, "It was probably a bad sprain and I'll need to go to physical therapy."

The Doctor said, "You have damaged the tendon, it will get worse, I have to operate."

Tomorrow (Thursday) is operation day. We're heading for the hospital at 5AM—but right now she's got another couple of hours before the "nothing by mouth" rule kicks in—so we think it's time for a glass of wine.

We'll keep you posted...

7:16 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday, May 05, 2008

Together Again!

We survived last weekend! You probably already guessed that we would. It wasn't easy, but we did it!! Donna's events in Galveston with Sisters Sippin' Tea went off without a hitch as did Virginia's in Jacksonville.

It certainly felt odd—almost like the other one was still there, like the phantom limb feeling that amputees experience. So while talking we had to resist the urge to turn to the right (Donna) or left (Virginia) for either our "straight woman" or the punch line. But it seems we managed to be able to speak in complete sentences and be reasonably coherent—so we hear tell from those who attended our panels. We signed books in our usual spot, over our individual name on the title page—leaving room in case the reader might run into the other of us sometime in the future. It looked a little strange to us, but apparently not to anyone else!

Donna got to hang out not only with SST's from all over the country who gathered for their annual reunion, but also with the wonderful Jewel Parker Rhodes (Yellow Moon—August 2008, Vodoo Dreams, Voodoo Season). And Virginia partied with R.L. Stine (Goosebumps series) and Jane O'Connor author of the Fancy Nancy children's books—and yes, there were adult authors in Jacksonville too, but these two writers definitely impressed VDB..

We each kept up with our own hotel room keys (and remembered our room numbers) which are tasks that we normally share (and have built in backup for—"Turn left off the elevator—it's room 414, not 441. That was the last hotel.") when we're on the road together. But we were really happy to see each other when we met up in the Atlanta airport on Sunday for our flight to Washington. Our flights landed at Hartsfield within 15 minutes of each other and in our separate arrival terminals we each whipped out our cells to text the gate location of our next flight and a convenient rendezvous spot—because we had two hours to kill. Excellent catch up time—which we did over burgers and vino. So that by the time we arrived in DC, we were back to normal—or as normal as ever are.

Our Sunday Dessert with the Authors was a tremendous success---and our signatures on Gotta Keep on Tryin' didn't look quite so lonely any more.

12:50 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Flying Solo

This weekend we are embarking on a brand new adventure—hey what would life be without something new and different?

On Saturday we are each doing a solo appearance. That's never happened before!! But there were two events we wanted to be a part of. After wrestling to make a choice we decided to ask each group if they were willing to host one of us. They agreed. So Donna will be in Galveston, TX for the 2008 Sisters Sippin' Tea Annual Reunion, and Virginia will be at the 13th annual Much Ado About Books festival in Jacksonville, FL. We flipped a coin to decide who would go where.

And we can't tell you how strange we're anticipating this to be. Yes, we are both perfectly capable of boarding a plane, catching a cab, reading and speaking in complete sentences. But we have been making appearances together for 11 years. We make speeches, sit on panels, do TV, radio, newspaper and magazine interviews together. The same way we write. Side by side. But Saturday we will be—one-sided? Lop-sided? Half-sided? Definitely not half-hearted.

Those who have seen us "do our thang" say we finish each other's sentences, that one picks up where the other leaves off and that it is a seamless presentation. We don't even think about it because it's what we do. But what will it be like this weekend when we are each alone, without the other half of our brain and our voice? Will we leave a sentence hanging in mid-air because there's no one there to catch and toss one back? Will one of us forget an important part of "our story" because we won't have a prompt or cue to lead us there?

One thing for sure is that everyone who attends one of our solo Saturday events and gets their book signed will have a rare item—there are very, very few books out there signed by only one of us.

Now the good news is that this will all be over by 7PM Saturday night—whew! when we meet up in the Atlanta airport and get a flight to Washington/Dulles for our Sunday afternoon luncheon with the Lambda Kappa Omega Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority in Herndon, VA. We're looking forward to it—both the event and the rendezvous.

One thing for sure—it's gonna be interesting. We'll let you know how it goes....

7:19 AM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday, April 21, 2008

Who you callin’________?

A friend of ours was driving to church in Mt. Vernon, NY on Sunday, looking forward to her weekly dose of inspiration. She passed a woman riding her bike. The cyclist apparently felt in some way threatened by our friend's car and she yelled, "You motha fuckin' ass nigga." Our friend was stunned. What was there to say? All she could think to do in response was honk her horn.

But later that day, she called a friend who lives in Atlanta to commiserate. Her friend had had a similar experience. While driving her BMW this woman was passed by a white woman driving a Taurus. For no apparent reason the woman shouted out the window, "Take your nigga ass back to Stone Mountain."

Now, some people would try to say the word "nigger" no longer has the same hurtful, hateful snarling connotation that it used to. That it's just something people call each other, like buddy. That these two white women might have hurled the same words at another white person whose driving they had a beef with. To that we say, GET REAL. The word is specific and it's meant to put people (us black people) in their places. Not to say there aren't some choice words black folks call white people. Because we all know there are cuss words for every race, creed and color.

So, does America still need a meaningful, and ongoing conversation about race and not just lip service? Clearly. There's a whole lot we don't understand about each other. The most fundamental of which is that we are all far more alike, than we may have been led to believe. It is encouraging that there are people of all races who are backing Obama for president, but there are lots of us on all sides who are mightily pissed off about what other folks say, do, and feel they are entitled to. And the issue of race keeps raising it's ugly head during this presidential campaign season, but why wouldn't it? There is much less space these days between what we feel and what we say in public.

Is there an economic component to the animosity? Sure. Any time people feel threatened they look for somebody to attack, and an expensive foreign car driving black woman is as good a target as any when people feel powerless against $4.00 a gallon gasoline and milk, and all the larger economic forces that mean some people can still buy $10million dollar homes and others can't afford their $50 a month rent increase. Ooops! Isn't that just about what Obama said that got him " in trouble" at the San Francisco dinner? That economic strain and disenfranchisement sends everyone retreating to their own corner ready to protect and defend whatever they can manage to hold onto? And sometimes the best defense is an offense? At least that's what WE think he meant.

Well, maybe it's good to get it all out in the open instead of letting it fester under the surface. But only if we clean up the wound and apply a salve that will allow it to heal. Except it's not just one wound and it's gonna take a whole lot of healing. So, in the meantime, what do you say when somebody calls you something that makes the hairs on your arms stand up? Do you ignore it or confront it? Does confronting it change anybody's mind or just get the anger off your chest? And will any of it make life better?

12:01 PM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Change of Life
Category: Life

From Donna

Most mornings when I'm home, I go downstairs first, make coffee (decaf) and bring up a cup for my husband. He has never been (or will be) a morning person. Except recently, I've had to alter this routine. I put the pot on, but now I have to wait for him to go down and take his first blood sugar reading of the day before he has coffee—with Equal instead of sugar. Two weeks ago, he was diagnosed with diabetes.

WHAM—that came out of the blue, sort of. After he'd come back from a family funeral in North Carolina, he started saying he needed to get a check-up. And he said his eyesight was a little blurry. He figured he was kind of run down. When he actually did see the doctor, it wasn't even during his own appointment. He had taken his Dad to the doctor—one who has become friendly through many years and regular visits. Dr. Marsh asked Hiram how he was feeling and when he mentioned the blurry eyesight the doctor took his blood pressure. It was VERY high at which point he gave him medication, took some blood and said he would be in touch. That was on Saturday. Sunday night at 8:30 the doctor called to tell him how high his sugar was and to get him in to the office the next day.

Just like that everything changed.

I am grateful to Dr. Marsh for taking the initiative to check on someone who was, technically speaking, not his patient. And I'm really grateful that Hiram found all this out before something truly awful—like a heart attack or a stroke—happened.

Does he fit the profile? Middle-aged Black man who weighs a little more than ideal. And there is history of both conditions in his family. Yep, right on target. Still, it was a shock—for both of us. For him, it's the first big, serious episode of his body rebelling and having to take medications and change his habits to control it. First time he's taken sick leave for more than the flu or some passing stomach virus. He's been in a bit of a funk as a result, but he's following his new dietary. . . readjustments (I almost said restrictions, but we're working to stay positive here) carefully, and charting his numbers faithfully. And we are both doing a lot of label reading—to keep his carbohydrate and sodium intake down. The changes will benefit both of us. I've gotten a bit. . .fluffy in recent years.

And I've been in a bit of a fog myself. Making sure he has what he needs, changing the way I cook. I found this salt-free seasoning mixture called Spike that is really tasty. Fage plain yogurt (it's strained Greek yogurt with an amazingly creamy texture. We've been using the 2% variety. They do make zero fat also) mixed with a little Equal and some extract—vanilla, almond, lemon—is soooo yummy and satisfying. Way tastier than diet yogurt, and as satisfying to me as ice cream—that's saying a lot.

But mostly the fog is about how serious this was and how fast life can slide by. Good grief, it seems impossible Hiram and I have known each other for twenty three years--been married for twenty of them. We've been through a lot together. And we both still feel young, which is great in terms of outlook. The numbers, however, are less forgiving. They are what they are. We are both really good about taking care of business—with family and friends, with our jobs. But we've truly fallen down on the job in the enjoying life area. He loves doing bike tours, but he hasn't ridden in several years. We both enjoy camping, hiking, going to hear jazz. . . Haven't made any time for those things either. And it's not that taking care of business isn't pressing. In the last two years Virginia and I have written two novels and a screenplay. We're working on a plot for the next book, but for the last two weeks my head hasn't been in it. Goodness, this time last year I got a phone call, "out of the blue," and raced off to take care of my Mom, who had been in a serious car accident in Arizona (she continues to do better, thank God).

The point is: life is precious, and finite, and while there is always work to be done, life is meant to be enjoyed too. I admit I am still remedial on this point—joy was not featured on the Top Ten List in my house when I was growing up—but attending to our joy levels needs to be right up there with watching our glucose levels.

So, be aware of what your body is telling you. Diabetes and high blood pressure affect African Americans disproportionately. Check out the American Diabetes Association for more info, diet tips and recipes: Click here: American Diabetes Association Home Page . And today is a lovely day. Regular exercise is an important part of controlling both blood pressure and diabetes, so Hiram and I are going to grab some breakfast and go for a walk—and enjoy the sunshine, the budding trees, the daffodils and each other. That's the business we're taking care of today.

9:07 PM - 2 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

A Brand New Venture
Category: Fashion, Style, Shopping

They're Here!!!!

Get your original TiffiBag™, by DeBerry & Grant

TiffiBag—we did it just like Tiffan"I" did in Gotta Keep on Tryin'—scouting for funky-cool remnants and having totes made to accompany us everywhere— evening, church, brunch, or book club meeting! The Tiffi size we've started with is big enough for a book, your water, a snack—maybe for two. . . Small enough to tuck in your purse for whatever comes your way.

All the fabrics are limited editions--so when it's gone, it's gone!

Sure you've got bags from work, conferences and conventions but Tiffani Alexander thought you might like a bag that says a little more—about you.

A tote bag with style.
A tote bag with sophistication.
A tote bag like no other.

A bag made to go with you everywhere looking good matters.

Each Original TiffiBag measures approximately 11" x 13" and is hand crafted from an array of beautiful, limited edition, upholstery quality fabrics and each is embellished with an imported, handmade, glass beaded tassel—because you know Tiffani likes a little sparkle and flash.

AND they make great gifts!

Here's a preview but please visit our website for prices, individual photos and descriptions!!

http://deberryandgrant.com/DGShopping.html

11:11 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Do as I say or do as I do?
Category: Life

In Gotta Keep on Tryin’ Gayle’s daughter, Vanessa is a spoiled, over indulged teenager—who makes some pretty bad choices in her rebellion against her mother (and her father). We’ve had many readers who just thought Vanessa was the worst kid—but then realized that Vanessa is really the new generation Gayle. Neither of us has kids—which gives us a very distinct and specific vantage point—we are observers of parent/child relationships, not participants. So we’re wondering---are too many parents today doing kids a disservice by providing them with too much and requiring too little responsibility in return? Do kids have an unrealistic sense of entitlement?

Do you think children unconsciously absorb their parents’ attitudes and behaviors, or do you think it takes a more active role to instill both negative and positive characteristics in children? Do parental actions speak louder than words?

Weigh in—let us know what you think!

8:18 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday, April 07, 2008

Friend or Foe?
Category: Life

As those of you who have read our books know, we always weave a few serious subjects into whatever story we’re telling. We usually include health (mental, physical, emotional) issues, family dynamics or dysfunction and a wide range of topics about the elastic boundaries of friendship. Today we’re starting a series of blogs where we’ll ask you to weigh in—give us your take on some of the situations we have posed.

One of the most frequent questions we get asked (almost every interview including the one on YouTube http://youtube.com/watch?v=W7zB01MdqEE ) is how does working together affect your friendship? We established Pat and Gayle’s very different personalities in Tryin’ to Sleep in the Bed You Made and in Gotta Keep on Tryin’ —using Gayle’s ideas and creativity and Pat’s business savvy (and initially her money), they have formed the Ell and Me Company. But their different outlooks lead to a serious rift when they have opposing ideas about how to grow the business.

So today’s question is:
Would you go into business with your best friend? And if you did, do you think both your friendship and business would thrive—or even survive? Please feel free to post your comments here or send us an email if you’re looking for a more "private" expression!

6:38 AM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Writing in Black and White
Category: Writing and Poetry

OK. Here’s the deal--today we are reposting a "guest-guest" blog. This is a commentary written by Denene Millner, as a guest on Eisa Ulen’s blog http://www.eisaulen.com/blog/

"I’m a Black writer."

By Denene Millner

Three more hours to go, and I’ll hear the bus rush down the street, signaling that my time is… up. The giggly girls will tumble up the brick stairs, backpacks askew, twists flying, serving up juicy kisses and demanding sweet treats—Golden Oreos, strawberries, and peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches (folded, not cut, in half). That’s what they’ll want—that, and my undivided attention. There will be no more time for my other babies—the characters in my books.

The clock ticks.

I am struggling.

Full of doubt.

And wondering, yet again, why I don’t just give this writing thing up and get a real job somewhere—like Starbucks or the Georgia State Road and Tollway Authority. I could make lattes or collect dollars, and stop thinking about words already.

And why not?

I’ve got 12 books with my name on them, including my latest, Hotlanta, the first in a three-book series I’ve written with my co-author, Mitzi Miller, and three more books on the way. I’ve also written for an eclectic mix of magazines—from Essence to Parenting to Money to Men’s Fitness—during a writing career that’s spanned more than two decades. Yet today, I’m feeling like my job as an African-American author is one of the most thankless, underappreciated, low-paying jobs on the planet.What’s got me in a tizzy? A prominent book editor’s quote in a recent newspaper article, saying that black authors who’ve had a successful book or two don’t have the right to expect long careers as writers.

My first response? Anger.

My second: What gives her the right?

My third: Resignation.

Maybe I should just go on down to Starbucks. Because clearly, there’s just no respect for what we African-American writers do. We’re being left behind, hung out to dry—devalued. By publishers with editors who feel comfortable saying publicly that black writers should find another way to pay the bills, no matter their passion or past successes.

And magazines and newspapers that pay attention to white writing only, if at all…

And black readers who’ve stopped supporting work that tries to say something meaningful…

And black bookstores that are forced to stay afloat by filling their shelves with black pathology…

And by black grown folks who have retreated from the book-buying scene, only to leave behind snot-nosed teenagers clutching their (mamas’) $10 bill, looking for the next quick porn… er, urban fiction fix for their exploding libidos.

It is in this vacuum that a first time white author can serve up fantastic tales about how she buried her tears in Big Ma’s bosom after her gun-toting/drug-dealing/preteen foster sibs got got, and collect a six-figure advance and multiple big-ups in our nation’s most prestigious newspapers and mags. And publishers can feel really comfortable giving the side-eye to authors who aren’t willing to Relentless Aaron their way to the top (re: sell their books on prison buses and street corners to up their sales numbers) or refuse to toss in another explicit sex scene, or question why the woman on the cover got to be half-naked even though the book has nothing to do with half-naked women...

It is, indeed, in this vacuum, that we black authors can be asked to become some low-expectation-having mofos. Because low-expectation-having author mofos don’t expect their book deals to cover the Yale tuition. And we can be happy for both that primo real estate on the "black interest" table in our local bookstore (during Black History month, of course) and the obligatory shout-out in the reviews section on Amazon (even if the one-liner likely was written by either you or your cousin, Tay-Tay, who didn’t actually read the book, but figured she was doing her part). If you remind him you got a book coming out, your Dad might even call and congratulate you.

If he’s anything like my Dad, his instincts might cause him to blurt out Robert Townsend’s popular Hollywood Shuffle refrain: "You know they got jobs down there at the post office."

"Why don’t you apply?" my Dad says, reasoning, "you just sitting in the house doing nothing anyway..."

What my Dad and most people who do something other than write for a living don’t realize is that, like many of my fellow writers, I spend most moments thinking about and rationalizing and editing and contemplating and conjuring words. Coddling and nurturing and growing up my "babies" in the hope that what they have to say will mean something to somebody. I especially want my words to speak to my people. My Hotlanta character Lauren, for instance, is complicated and simple, beautiful, but prone to acting ugly, sharp-tongued and ambitious, but immature and incredibly naïve. She is true—her voice important because she reps a whole host of African American teens who live similarly, but are rendered invisible behind the saggy pants-wearing/underachieving/reckless/menacing/living-in-squalid-broken-homes/I’m so hood stereotypes we’re all-too-often fed when we’re talking about black teenagers.

I know they’re better than this. I’d argue that a lot more of us do, too. And this is why I tend to make my "babies" do what they do. Their voices—my words—are purposeful. Even if they don’t really cover the tuition.

It is this that I try to remember as the time slips by, and another of my books is released into the universe, and my Dad and cousin Tay-Tay remind me to send them their (free) copies, and I bristle at yet another white author getting yet another review/profile/sloppy, wet kiss in a well-read publication or popular TV show, while yet another black author sees her advance dwindle, or his book proposal rejected, or their hard, thoughtful work ignored.

Post office/Starbucks/Toll collector gigs aside, I’m trying hard to stay focused. No, I can’t meet you for coffee. Or return your phone calls. Or read your resume and "shine up" your cover letter.

I’m a black writer.

And I’ve got three hours before the giggly girls tumble up the stairs, looking for their snacks. And somewhere during that time, Lauren has got… to… say… something… meaningful. Because I’m no low-expectation having author mofo. And I’ve got the audacity to hope that somewhere, somehow, my words—my babies—will speak to someone, just like they talk back to me.

To read comments on this post and other great articles please visit
http://www.eisaulen.com/blog/

10:22 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday, March 31, 2008

More on Vogue
Category: Art and Photography