Ariella Papa, Author

My Creative Process: The Stinky Snoozy Truth

ariella — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 01:47:49 +0000

I have a friend who is a rock star. She is a singer-songwriter. Sometimes when I turn on the TV, I catch one of her songs in the soundtrack and it makes me proud.

She is also REALLY good about keeping her fans in the loop of what is up with her in an authentic way. I envy that and I feel I have a lot to learn about being more open and engaging my readers. Recently she sent out a dispatch about the making of her latest album complete with photos of the process. I enjoyed the pictures of the snowy cabin she went up to for the weekend with her gear and guitars and the shots of her and a bunch of cute boy musicians sitting around making music. There was video of some rough jams that still sounded awesome, like an old-school MTV Unplugged. It was all super creative and fun.

I began to imagine what it would be like if someone was here documenting my process and how different it would be. What exactly would these masochists documentarians find? Many days, if I am writing, the only thing cute around here is the dog and she distracts me with her adorableness so much that I can’t possibly figure out how to work through that slow middle section. Though I do have an actual desk, I write a lot of it from the couch. My battered computer is my only real gear. Truly a lot of the pictures would just be of me staring into space waiting, wondering, hoping that the ideas will flow. The photographer would probably get a number of shots of procrastination–be it checking my Amazon status, going to the fridge for my fifth slice of Colby Jack or just a teeny scoop of hummus and of course the ever constant google searches which might start with how to spell an Italian expression and end in video tutorial of how to make Korean short ribs.

Like, I guess, Tori Amos on her piano, I do sort of bang on my keyboard when I get going. This makes people think I am a fast typer, but no, nope just a loud one. But maybe this would be something for the videographer. Music, if you will. (I know, I know, you probably won’t, though you might if you were going down the search engine rabbit hole and couldn’t figure out how to end the chapter.)

And then just when the deadline is really looming, I hunker down, I actually move to the desk and forgo the constant snacking. When I’m in the weeds, I stay in my jammies, not brushing my hair or really thinking about what I might smell like. That would be one for the fans.

What about YOU? What’s does your process look and sound like? What great tidbits have YOU uncovered about the universe when you should have been making your dialogue sound more real? And is that the smell of creativity or just forgotten deodorant? Let’s discuss.

Holiday Rants and Joys–Christmas Carols

ariella — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 12:12:28 +0000

So I would listen to Christmas music from the second I push away my third plate of turkey on Thanksgiving to January 2. By then I am usually done. There are some carols that burn my nanny and others that put me in the mood for cocoa and twinkling lights.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside: Every time I hear this song I want to tell the male singer that no means no. There’s something really creepy and desperate about this guy. Especially when the guy is Rod Stewart because I love Dolly and I know she really wants her fancy warm tour bus to get her the heck out. I would be checking the medicine cabinet for Rufinol. Please remind your daughters that it is NEVER too “cold outside” to go home

But if you want a classic and old school song try. ‘Zat you Santa Claus by Louis Armstrong. ‘Zat awesome? Why yes, ‘zat is.

I really can’t stand the Mama met Jesus song: I don’t even want to know the title. Some guy goes to a store for shoes and meets a kid whose mother is about to DIE. Really? This you want to play during Christmas time? I know people die 365 days a year. This is an awful fact. But I don’t think preying on our emotions when I want to know that Santa is coming to town as long as I am nice is fair. This song makes me say words that are naughty and I don’t want to jeopardize anything with St. Nick. No more worst carol ever.

Instead how about Feliz Navidad? I know, I know. It’s predictable, but predictable is good. At least we can be confident no one’s mother is going to die at the end. Try singing this with your family this Christmas and I guarantee everyone from the toddlers to the senile will get into it and all the family drama will be forgotten (for a little while).

And please stop with Dan Fogelberg’s Same Old Lang Syne. You totally know this song. You just don’t know the title. It’s NOT the New Year’s classic. It’s about the guy who meets his old girlfriend in a parking lot and they get a six pack and talk about how miserable they are. There’s a sax the snow turns into rain. You remember now? Yeah. I guess I used to be this person who thought I would feel slightly melancholy about lost love, but you know what? I’m not. I got out of my 20s. I’m lucky. Life is good. So give me Mariah singing “All I want for Christmas is You” (especially this version) one more time and skip this or I’m changing the channel to the alt-rock station.

If you must reminisce or you yearn for slightly melancholy try 2000 Miles by the Pretenders and River by Joni Mitchell These songs I could listen to all year long. They are just that good.

Here’s what else I want more of on my Christmas radio station.

Good King Wenceslas and We Three Kings: I love these songs and they don’t get no love. Are they too religious for pop channels? Next year I am launching a campaign to bring them back to the people.

Dominic the Donkey: I’m not sure if this song is supposed to be offensive to Italians but I love it. Boun Natale

And finally Must Be Santa When someone comes out with a new carol, it’s exciting. When it’s Bob Dylan, it’s interesting. When it’s this song, that’s incredible. My kids could watch the video on youtube 24/7. Check it out. Someday I want to have a party like that. Maybe this New Year’s Eve to celebrate the end of all my off-key singing.

What are you listening to or not listening to this season?

Thanks Giving

ariella — Fri, 16 Nov 2012 18:26:52 +0000

So Thanksgiving comes early this year and here we go right into the holidays, but before I lose my head in all of it I wanted to take a minute to acknowledge what I liked best about this year. I am grateful…

-Most of all that my family was safe during Hurricane Sandy. I feel extremely fortunate that for my part of Brooklyn Sandy was not much more than a chance to slow down and be with people I love spending time with. But it was not that way for everyone, so please remember the “give” in Thanksgiving.

-For Cynar. Somewhere in the past year it has become my go to drink. It’s made from
artichokes. It’s a little bit bitter and a little bit sweet.. . and Italian. The perfect drink for me.

-To my meat CSA. Really, it doesn’t get much better than a pork chop on a grill when you know where it came from.

-To the amazonbot. Momfriends has been out for two years. Last month was the best month EVER. I am so happy that it is getting out there. While I usually HATE technology, I love when the amazonbot suggests my book to people who might never have heard of it

-Because our president is a father of daughters. And for this and many reasons he seems to respect the rights of women.

-For Authors Unbound. It’s a place for indie authors to find their fans and their voices. We are making exciting partnerships and have big things planned for the new year. I am so proud of the work we’ve done on this. And all the cookies

-To New Yorkers who give children their seat on public transportation. These people don’t really need my gratitude because they have great karma

-For Connie Britton (again). Sure “Nashville” is a soap opera, but I just can’t quit you, Connie. Call me . . . maybe?

-To the Kennedys. Have you seen the documentary “Ethel”? You should. Those people know a thing or two about public service.

-And of course to YOU, for all your support.

Happy Thanksgiving and if you need a break this holiday season, might I suggest a glass of Cynar. Cin-Cin!

What are you thankful for this year?

Tonight’s The Night – Authors Unbound Reading at Duplex in NYC

ariella — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 00:03:32 +0000

Hope to see you there

GO INDIE with Authors Unbound at the Duplex on October 9.
Join authors…
*Brittany Geragotelis (What the Spell?)
*Frank Anthony Polito (Lost in the ’90s)
*Lynn Messina (Bleak)
*Ariella Papa (Turn of The Century Stories)
…as they read from their work and discuss epublishing. Moderated by Amy Edelman (editor of Indie Reader).
…
Have two drinks (minimum!) and a good time.
..
Authors Unbound seeks to provide independent authors with events to share their work and connect with their fans.
…
This event is free, but there is a TWO DRINK MINIMUM.
Doors open at 6:30 p.m.
…
For more information, go to authorsunbound.org.
PLEASE RSVP THROUGH THIS LINK http://www.theduplex.com/webcalendar/view_entry.php?id=7020&date=20121009

THE HATE TRIFECTA

ariella — Thu, 26 Jul 2012 15:08:33 +0000

I consider myself a glass half full drinking, bright side looking, silver lining finding kind of girl. At all costs, I try to avoid negativity, drama, the haters, and the soda drinkers (another post). I am trying to teach my children to be this way too. The world could definitely use more positive people.

But there is always negative energy that one needs to channel and for this I have my HATE TRIFECTA. We spend so much time trying to appear agreeable that sometimes it’s fun to be a hater. Below some frequently asked questions to help you better understand the wonder and the satisfaction that is the HATE TRIFECTA:What is a HATE TRIFECTA?

A HATE TRIFECTA is three things that are uniquely hated by a single person. Others may hate one or two of the items, but probably not all three. It’s almost like a fingerprint. I avoid these things at all costs. Whenever one of these things comes up in conversation, I mention that it is on my HATE TRIFECTA. I find that people — especially women — want a HATE TRIFECTA of their very own.

What’s in a HATE TRIFECTA?

A HATE TRIFECTA is unique to you. And many of you know immediately what the three things in your own HATE TRIFECTA are. My HATE TRIFECTA consists of three distinct items: vollyeball, olives and Robert Downey, Jr.

Why these things? How do I find my HATE TRIFECTA? Haven’t you seen Sherlock Holmes? And I think I might have an olive you would like.

So many questions. Some of you need guidelines on how to figure out your own individual authentic HATE TRIFECTA. So, I use my own as a guide. I didn’t plan it this way, but as I analyze it seems my items fit into categories that I think may be helpful as a blueprint as you craft your own HATE TRIFECTA

The obvious-volleyball: If you know me, you know that I shun sports at all costs. I’m not a team player by any means. Many a friend has try to entice me into playing softball with her, but I have never succumbed. If a ball comes towards me on a playground, I will scream and turn the other way. If you want me to throw something, say keys, at you I will walk them over and remind you that I don’t like throwing things. I hate volleyball specifically because it reminds me of being the new girl in 6^th grade who moved to the suburbs after never even having gym class in the city. It reminds me of being humiliated when I had to serve the ball that very first time and having to play the same stupid sport for several months every year for the next seven years. It reminds me of all the assholes I went to high school with specifically one named Ed who always happened to be in my gym class. You know that room in George Orwell’s 1984 where the thing you are most afraid of happens? If that really exists and I visit it I will have to serve a volleyball again and again and again.

If I close my eyes I can clearly remember when the whistle blew that ended the last gym class I would ever have to play volleyball my senior year. That was bliss.

The surprising -olives. I am what many would call a foodie. I’m told the current politically correct term is food person. But by any name, I like to eat. And eat well. I know how to put a cheese plate together. I spent a year sampling the best pork dishes in NYC. I have been known to drive my family quite far off course just because I read that something “was good” at some hole in the wall in the middle of nowhere. This is why NO ONE believes I don’t like olives. I come from an Italian American family. I was raised in a Greek non volleyball playing neighborhood. I lived in Italy. I spend time with many other food people. When I mention I don’t like olives, I am first met with disbelief and then, without fail, I am told that there is this one type of olive I just have to try. At first I tried all of them. I indulged everyone. But you know what? To me all olives taste the same. Yucky. Really no one has an olive that I like. Trust me it doesn’t exist and please stop offering. The same goes for tapenade. No thank you.

And ever notice how olives sneak onto things and hide? Sometimes you order a plain pizza and there is a random half olive stuck on a piece. And try picking them out of a greek salad. Impossible.

The frivolous/celebrity –Robert Downey, Jr. This is the one that’s most easy for people to pick. It’s usually Renee Zellwegger. Maybe Dakota Fanning. Some say that chick from Knocked Up. I say why hate the women all the time? For me it’s clearly Robert Downey, Jr. I know, I know. Iron Man. Yes, there was Oscar buzz for Chaplin. But really it wasn’t so long ago that this guy was waking up his neighbors in their beds when he was super strung out? How many chances have we given this RD Jr.? Is it really worth it? Didn’t any of you see his awful overwrought Elton Johnesque musical performance on Regis and Kelly many years back? How about the Golden Globe award speech he gave when he won for Ally MacBeal of all things? He thinks he’s such an acTOR. Awful. I just can’t. He is the worst.

What happens when your HATE TRIFECTA fails you?

Unimaginable, I say. Or would have said before the baby incident.

Oh, the baby incident took me by surprise. Friends of mine were having breakfast with their one-year-old in LA when the Robert Downey, Jr walked in. Dadfriend went over and asked Bob if he would take a picture with his daughter who “loved Iron Man”. Junior agreed and then even when he saw how old she was and that she had most likely never seen any movie that wasn’t Baby Einstein, he STILL took the picture. Now, I have seen said picture and it is adorable. I am no match for the cuteness. Much like the Grinch felt when he heard the Whos of Whoville singing, something changed in me immediately. My heart grew.

I guess the thing is I respect when celebrities want their privacy. You hear those stories about how some big actor was a dick because he didn’t want to sign an autograph or some singer just wanted to have her slice of olive pizza and not make eye contact. I ALWAYS side with the celebrity. These people owe us nothing but entertainment. They don’t want to talk to your Grandma Helen in Oradell on your cell phone. So the fact that Mr. Downey, Jr was so cool about it and the picture is so strange and wonderful with adorable babe and well tanned man makes it almost impossible for me to still hate him. Believe me, I have tried. HARD. I just can’t hate Robert Downey, Jr. anymore.

So, now I have this void. What is a trifecta without three? Where do I put the negative energies? Do I try that olive you think I would like? No, that’s crazy talk. Have we learned nothing? The HATE TRIFECTA is necessary. Jamie Foxx, it’s all on you now. I’ve got not real reasons, you just annoy me. But I shall build a case and report back soon.

In the meantime . . . what’s on your HATE TRIFECTA? And how cute is this?

I Missed You, That’s Why

ariella — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 01:27:27 +0000

I have had book readings and/or signings in a lot of unlikely places. Obviously, book stores are big, but also at women’s clothing stores, at a Broadway show, a major department store and one time in The Port Authority.
Sometimes only a couple of people show up and sometimes a couple of hundred have listened to me read. I have sat in a discussion circle and I’ve made announcements over a loudspeaker to try to garner some interest. Sometimes my hand hurts from signing and other times my mouth hurts from forcing a smile to convince myself that the no-shows are okay.
I’ve set these signings up for myself and my publishing company has set some up for me. I was not always solo. In the past I got paired with authors who I didn’t feel any connection with, but I also got a long friendship out of one such pairing. So I’d say the odds were ever in my favor.
I’ve learned something from each event and each one has made me better at the next.
I love meeting people who may already be fans and introducing myself to people who’ve never heard of me even if sometimes they pick up my book and politely decide no, not for them.
Though the hope of these events is always more book sales, sale or no sale I get to meet people. That, for someone who spends a majority of her writing life in the company of herself, is a big deal.
Epublishing my novel, Momfriends and now Turn of The Century Stories has been more solitary than any of my previous works. Unfortunately, when all was said and done and the book was out there that was it. I couldn’t very well go into a bookstore and have a signing when I didn’t have a physical book. I also don’t have the army of publicists that it would take to get some of those other venues to host me again.
But I really wanted to connect with fans and truth be told, I really wanted to CELEBRATE what I had done. I’m not very picky when it comes to celebrating things and look for any opportunity to do so. Your birthday? Your promotion? Your reaffirmation of your love for your dog? Let’s get some limoncello (or peanut butter) and celebrate!
The completion of a book is a true reason to celebrate. But, I didn’t have the location to celebrate these books and I couldn’t imagine I was alone. A lot of us are out here, trying to find our way and engage our fans. I missed you. I missed the chance to meet you.
So one winter evening, I pulled up a stool in my usual spot in the corner of the bar where I discuss all things writerly and hatched a plan with Lynn Messina who was considering epublishing her own book and having many of the same concerns.
The result: the Authors Unbound reading series.
Our mission: to provide authors who epublish events to share their work and connect with their fans.
Our first of hopefully many events is Thursday June 7 at the Wix Lounge in NYC 10 West 18th St 2nd Floor
I hope to see you there. I missed you.

Judging A Cover By Its Book

ariella — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 15:07:06 +0000

I never met a cover of mine that I didn’t like. I know some authors who hate what they wind up with, but not me. From the first time I saw the sketch for my debut novel, ON THE VERGE – there were donuts worked in- to every random copy of my novels in numerous translations, I love them all. I have a couple of covers framed in my house and one day when I win that Mega Millions jackpot or get that big option, I will wallpaper the writer’s room in my eco-friendly lake house in book covers. The Danish version of UP & OUT is super cool (at least I think that’s what it is).

I guess it’s because when I see the cover I know that the book is soon to follow and I am grateful again that this is all happening. Maybe if I were a NY Times bestselling author I would be more picky, but I doubt it. I love seeing the way an artist decides to translate my book.

Things are a little bit different now that I am epublishing. I am told that covers aren’t as important in epublishing. People who buy ebooks aren’t browsing covers they say, but I don’t know if I buy it. Either way, now that I intimately involved in the process of creating the cover, I definitely want it to be good.

I am lucky that I am good friends with someone who makes covers for actual books for a real publishing company and she (I’ll call her Joan since we both like Mad Men and she is a sassy redhead) will trade a good meal for a book cover. It’s a win-win for me, because I love her style and this is great reason to go back to Brooklyn Fare.

For my first epublished book MOMFRIENDS Joan gave me three different options. We went with a style that would appeal to my chick-lit fans. The cover was pink and had three different sets of shoes to represent the three women in the story. I asked for a tweak of the middle shoes to differentiate it more from the other two and Joan put in the cute blue kicks she happened to be wearing. I loved it. It totally got the vibe of the book.

Then I decided I was going to epublish some short stories. All of these stories were set around Y2K, and sort of went together in my head. What I really needed was six separate covers. I needed covers that were different, but tied together. It was probably time to move away from pink. Joan suggested keeping some stylistic elements like my name placement and certain typography. I suggested incorporating some iconography from the stories and this is what we wound up with.

Again, I love it! As I release each story that story’s name will be the boldest, but all the names are still there. I’m working on a little trailer based on the cover. I’ve wanted to publish these TURN OF THE CENTURY STORIES for some time and I will be epublishing one every couple of months over this year. It’s kind of an experiment and we’ll see how it goes. In content and cover this is a departure for me and I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out.

Because these books are epublished and I don’t get to hold the tangible book, seeing this cover was the moment where I started to feel like this book was going to be real.

What are YOUR cover stories? Are you always happy? Is epublishing changing how you think about them?

New Year, More Me

ariella — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 02:06:36 +0000

My day job as I like to call it is making promos for television shows and cable networks. I often pretend I watch TV for a living. And that truly is a large part of my job. The other part is convincing people to watch things they might not want to watch. It’s a lot easier for me to promote television than it is for me to promote myself. I have a better chance of getting you to watch an all-day Sandra Bullock movie marathon than, say, convincing you to buy all of my books at once and in all formats. But I digress.

I am freelance, though for a couple of years now I’ve been working steadily at a channel I really like with shows I actually do watch. And this is big because I don’t watch much. For a long time I worked at different women’s networks where we would ring in the new year with some variation on the following campaign – “New Year, New You.” We did this every year at numerous channels again and again. It was a thing. Advertisers bought into it. With resolutions and gym memberships and a million and one ways to quit smoking, people and especially the fairer sex are always pressured or nudged to transform into someone else – someone newer, skinnier, better.

I was not immune to this. Last year my first week of January resolution to “work out more” led to overzealous squats and then a whole year of random hip pain the likes of which I didn’t expect to feel until I had grandchildren. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t successful. The new me felt like an old biddy.

I’m done with all that.

This year I don’t have resolutions. I am making intentions. I intend to not try to change myself into someone new. I intend to enhance what’s already here. Enhance is really the best word I can think of, even though it makes me think slightly of breasts. But breasts are awesome, so I’ll keep it.

I already have a lot of plans for the year, but who knows what 2012 will bring? No doubt this year will be full of some new and scary and hopefully wonderful stuff. If I try to be anyone but me, I don’t know that I will deal with any of it all that well. A new me just couldn’t hack it. The old one with stiff hips will have to do.

This year I intend to live like an improv comic, to accept and to heighten. I will say yes to more things and then try to go to one step further. Or is it farther? I never know. I intend to run more so maybe both.

But you can keep those squats, 2011. The same goes for lunges. It’s time for a nice gentle stretch.

Happy 2012!

My Serving of Gratitude

ariella — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 02:23:53 +0000

Thanksgiving is here. Time once again to give thanks and eat too much. I guess that’s pretty much what I do every day of the year, but now it’s a bank holiday. I just read here that an “attitude of gratitude” is scientifically good for you and who can argue with science?

So please indulge me while I improve my mental health. I am grateful for:

One year of Momfriends Epublishing a book has been a fun, frustrating, empowering, and exhausting experience. I’m glad I did it and I will do it again. Very soon. But for now Momfriends is on sale. Check it out

Farm fresh eggs I love these things. My CSA just ended and I am in serious withdrawal. Is there a food more perfect than the egg? Perhaps bacon. Someday maybe pigs will lay eggs.

The internets Is there anything I can’t find? With very little to go on and many wrong words I found a Robert Pinsky poem that had been swirling though my head for weeks in no time flat thanks to that crazy series of tubes.

My dad My family probably could not function without him. He knows about cars. He knows about cutlets. He knows about Costco. Plus he babysits.

Florence and The Machine. Her voice is strong and womanly and doesn’t hold back. I aspire to that. And is there something about redheaded women that automatically makes them cool? Tori Amos, Joan Hollaway, Kelly B and Maggie L. I guess you just have to be born with it.

Connie Britton A similar vibe to Flo. Strong and beautiful. I laughed and cried with her in FNL and I couldn’t imagine how much I would laugh and shudder with her in another role. Now I love her in American Horror Story. But Dylan McDermott’s got nothing on Coach.

Kids And not just my own. Kids remind me that there doesn’t have to be a ceiling on your imagination and that is a lesson I almost always really need.

Pork It takes a backseat to turkey this time of year, but we must never forget the power of the pork. And that power means that one day pigs WILL lay eggs. Eggs of bacon.

Parking Gods I live in Brooklyn and suffer through alternate side of the street parking. I bow before the altar of the parking gods. You kind and benevolent gods, you. When it rains, you give me spots on the block. When it snows, you cancel alternate side. When I really have to be somewhere, you use your magic to make others pull out of their spots. And sometimes you don’t give me a spot when I really need it and I understand that in those times, I need to sacrifice. But I have faith. You are all knowing and wise.

YOU Thank you for coming from all over to this site and for all your emails and support. Even if you are lurking, I hope that maybe one day you will comment or make contact. I would love to hear from you and find out what you are thankful for.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING.

I Heart Libraries

ariella — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 13:45:34 +0000

This post originally appeared at girlfriendbooks.blogspot.com

Last week, my kindergarten son’s school newsletter announced that the library was going to be open after school for parents and kids. Not exactly believing my good fortune, I questioned his teacher at pick-up on the designated day. She confirmed I could go up, only slightly taken aback by my enthusiasm. I rushed into school announced to the guard where I was going. She wasn’t sure parents were allowed up, but I was only armed with permission from the teacher and she relented. And then we were there in the library. The only ones. The librarian was shutting down and she said we could stay because the parent coordinater would soon be there. Would she need to turn the lights back on or would the natural light be okay? You bet it would.

My kids thought this was bliss and so did I. We sat on the rug and read book after book. They kept asking me why we were they only ones there and I said I didn’t know. I couldn’t imagine why there wasn’t a line of parents down the hall and a bouncer at the door. I mean this was the library. I’d been smiling every day that my son came home after a library visit. I had been dying to get in there myself and take a look. For as long as I can remember books were friends and the library was a haven.

We had the place to ourselves for awhile. Only later did a few tween girls show up and start quietly reading some books of their own. No one made much noise These were girls I could totally relate to. When I was about 10, I volunteered at the local library in my city. I know I organized and put books back on their shelves, but mostly I enjoyed having access to the special area behind the information desk where I could sit and just read. These are happy peaceful memories of adolesence. And it’s pretty amazing that all those words can live together in one sentence.

At my son’s library there was a teeny little part of me that, recognizing the Papa clan’s enthusiasm, heard the word “nerd” repeating again and again in my head, but I fought that. I used to get in trouble in class for reading books under my desk, thus drawing more attention to the reader (nerd) that I was. I don’t want my children to ever be ashamed of their love of books. So we chose to celebrate this exclusive privilege we had to be in this special place. It was better than any velvet roped VIP room.

And since we were talking about what our education was and how and why we became writers, I have to say that the reason I am a writer is all this time spent in the library. I hope it will also provide the education to my kids for whatever they chose in life. Though now I am a strong supporter of ebooks and ereading, libraries will always make me a little bit breathless and a big bit in awe.