Today we welcome author Shirley Goldberg to Notes From a Romantic’s Heart to talk about her newest release, Eat Your Heart Out, from The Wild Rose Press. Rather than answer my nosey questions, today we’re going to talk with Shirley’s heroine and her good friend.
A Talk with Sunny and Dana
When fellow author Nancy Fraser invited me to guest post, I invited two of my main characters to join me. They didn’t seem all that eager.
“What’s the problem?” I’d been wrestling with words all day. Who needs moodiness from my imaginary beings?
“Isn’t this a tad weird?” Sunny’s voice was taut with attitude.
“Weird? How?” Dana asked.
“We’re characters in books and we’re chatting as if we’re real people.”
“Don’t say anything about who you went with on vacation,” Sunny said. “We don’t want any spoilers. Not everyone has read your book.” She gave Dana a stern look.
“It’s not my book,” Dana said. “It’s Shirley’s book.”
“Don’t quibble,” I said. As if they’d listen to me.
“I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Sunny Chanel, the main character in Middle Ageish, Shirley’s first novel.
“I’m Dana, Sunny’s BFF in her book.”
“You have your own book now, though. How do you feel about that?”
“You sound like my therapist.”
“The two of you bicker inside my head all day long,” I interrupted. “It’s unnerving.”
“I’m the one with a therapist, not you.” Sunny stepped around me to confront Dana.
“Remember, no spoilers,” Dana chided.
“Sorry.” Sunny looked embarrassed. “Aren’t we supposed to be introducing Shirley?”
“You start.” Dana gestured with her chin. “Give the readers a heads-up about her background. Why she wrote the book.”
“I’ve always wondered myself.” Sunny looked at me. “You did a lot of online dating and took notes in the ladies room, didn’t you? When you were on a meet.”
“I’ll admit it.” I put my hands up in surrender. My dirty little secret was out. At least they weren’t bickering.
“Let me get this straight. You’re on a date. You excuse yourself to go to the restroom. And take notes in the toilet stall? Seriously?”
“Pretty much,” I said.
“It’s true,” Sunny said. “You wouldn’t believe how many guys I had to do the ole meet-and-greet with to keep the story moving forward. Shirley planned it all in the restroom.” She gave a little sneer. “How romantic.”
“I don’t write books in the toilet,” I protested. “Notes. I took a few notes.”
“We’ve all heard the advice writers get.” Sunny fixed me with a look that said I wasn’t getting away with anything. “Write about what you know.”
“So I’ve heard,” Dana said. “We’re getting off track here. The book is about starting over. Not so easy when you’re a little older. Shirley knows because she started over. She was living in Crete, teaching English. She and her husband ended their marriage.
“Right, sorry about my tirade,” Sunny said. “Shirley moved back to Connecticut and started over.
“We met when you moved from Paris to New Haven and enrolled in the grad program.” Dana crossed her legs and scratched her mosquito bites again. “Just like Shirley.”
“Are you saying the book is autobiographical?” Dana asked Sunny.
“Ask Shirley,” Sunny said. “I think all writing is somewhat autobiographical.”
“My marriage was circling the drain.” No point in denying the similarities in the book to my own life. “Look, relationships aren’t easy. It’s a wonder two people come together, much less stay together.”
“In Middle Ageish, I issue the dating challenge that starts the ball rolling,” Sunny said.
“I made up that dating contest,” I said.
“Yeah, probably after three glasses of wine.” Sunny looked around the living room. “I could use a glass of wine.”
“Hey.” Dana poked Sunny in the arm. “We’re guests here.”
Sunny gave Dana a look. “Shirley forced me to date. A lot. And broke my heart.”
“No spoilers!” I’d had it up to my eyelashes with my characters. Especially Sunny.
“Dana, you’re the heroine in Eat Your Heart Out. Can you say a little something about––”
“Friendship,” said Dana. “Women. Men. Two foodies. We sauté together, banter, and dance around each other. There’s some serious stuff too. A few issues.”
“Shirley said she writes to make readers laugh,” said Sunny.
They exchanged a knowing look.
“I’d second that emotion, don’t you agree?” Dana looked proud of her song-quoting skills.
The three of us burst out giggling.
About the Book
Actor turned teacher Alex Bethany craves a family of his own and his new lifestyle gives him the confidence to try online dating. Meanwhile he’s sending Dana mixed messages in the kissing department. After a surprising event rocks his world, Alex panics, certain he’s blown his chances with his special person. From appetizers to the main course will these two cooking buddies make it to dessert?
Funny and bittersweet, Dana and Alex’s story will have you rooting for them all the way to dessert.
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an Excerpt
I yanked open the heavy door and entered the huge lobby, the sounds of merrymaking—clinking cutlery, people talking, a boom of laughter—drifted down from the upstairs restaurant.
How to locate Monty? We should have made a better plan to meet.
And then a pair of blue jeans appeared on the winding staircase, my gaze following the smooth descent. Legs, negative stomach, chest and shoulders, all the way up to the wide grin. Any residual stress from the week floated away and became I’m glad to meet you, glad, so glad.
Better looking than his photo, with a body clearly used to moving. Chores like log-carrying, shoveling snow, maybe some serious foreplay. What was it Noelle said about a good body on a middle-aged man? A guy in shape is like an A+ on an exam. Unexpected and welcome.
“I know you’re Dana,” said Monty, real name Doug, who reached out to me at the bottom of the staircase with a cuddly hug. Despite remembering one of his early negative emails, my body relaxed against his mighty hug.
“Really nice.” Too early in the evening for giddy, and yet…what was going on? Earlier in our emailing, he’d had misgivings, something about casting his net too wide, afraid we had little in common. He’d had doubts. Is he still doubtful?
At the table we discussed wine, ordered Cabernet, and sat back. “A comfortable silence,” he said, nodding in the direction of my ace-bandaged hand. “What happened to you?”
“Accident. I’ll tell you later.” Not the time to discuss the tough stuff.
“Hope it doesn’t hurt.” He touched my arm. “I really wanted to meet you. And I didn’t want to do it over coffee.” He paused, looked around the place, his gaze taking in the other diners, the piano, the huge floor-to-ceiling fireplace. “Would love to be here when there’s a fire going. Classy. Like you.” He laughed. “I know I’m piling it on a bit thick, but I mean it.”
This man is a charmer, watch out, watch out.
The wine arrived, and he lifted his glass. “To a great evening,” he said. We sipped and he leaned in close. “Stop me if I talk too much. I’m serious. I tend to go on.”
He had a slight accent. Montana. This was what Montana sounded like, broad in some places, slow, but good slow. Montana Monty. “So how long have you been in Connecticut?” I asked.
He told me it had been a long time, but he got to see his parents every six months or so. “They are both in their eighties. I worry about them.” And he asked about my work, so I told him about the two students invited for lunch discussions. “That’s how I came up with my Luncheon Improvement Plan. It’s a warning so my students know they’re a step away from a detention.”
“What did they do?” He was a great listener, leaning close as if we were already intimates, my classroom tidbits amusing and gleaming as lightning bugs.
“They were a source of irritation. For the whole period. Fifty-five minutes. I caught one of the boys throwing spitballs at the girls. Juvenile.”
“I did worse in high school. I would have loved a detention from you.” He made a growl deep in his throat. “Maybe you’ll invite me to your classroom one day?” Then shook his head, mocking himself. “I’m being silly, but I’d like to see you in action.” He stopped, checked my glass. “Hey, let’s have another glass. You’re almost empty.”
I nodded, that giddy feeling again.
“What do you need?” Eyes on my face. “What can I get you?”
A man aware of my needs. Keeping tabs on my needs. Indeed, I needed food to avoid getting too lightheaded, carried away by compliments and the sheer appreciation of my wonderfulness. He touched my arm. “Is this too much, too soon? I get infatuated easily,” he said. “I don’t know why.”
A tingly sensation clear down to my stomach. I excused myself, needing a few minutes of alone time, a little less intensity. Catch him off guard. Noelle’s advice.
In the ladies’ room I threw on lipstick, my thoughts stumbling over territory I’d discussed with Noelle, with Jewel. Even Alex. When you first meet, remember he doesn’t know what pleases you. Let him blab. Listen. Between the lines, the real man will show himself.
Back at the table he took my hand, talked about traveling in Asia, visiting manufacturers for quality control issues—he’d worked many years in the toy manufacturing business. “Let’s stay for dinner,” he said hand on mine. The jazz trio began the lead-in to “The Lady is a Tramp,” the evening proceeding in perfect sync with our mutual mood of wonder and discovery.
About the Author
Her website offers a humorous look at living single and dating in midlife. Shirley is the author of two rom coms. Eat Your Heart Out and Middle Ageish, both in the series Starting Over.
Shirley’s friends nag her to tell them which stories are true in her novels. Her characters believe you should never leave home without your sense of humor and Shirley agrees.
Shirley's Website
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Many to thanks to Shirley for bringing her quirky sense of humor to the blog today. Please come back again tomorrow when we'll have a Goddess Fish tour guest, which means--of coures--a giveaway!
Nancy
What a great interview. Best wishes for many readers.
ReplyDeleteLove the post!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the post! Putting it on myTBR list.
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