You never hear James Dean snort by Deb Eileen

I remember my teen years as one where I was quite the rebel. I dressed as if I was channeling Molly Ringwald, listened to The Smiths and tried to take up smoking clove cigarettes. (Note to impressionable young readers: don’t bother with the clove cigarettes they taste like a burnt spice cabinet and no one looks cool hacking up mucus chunks) I’ve come to the realization that it is quite…

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That’s Ms. Femme Fatale to You by Deb Mia

Let me start by saying that I don’t think the label of “Femme Fatale” is appropriate for a high school student. Come on: they’re not allowed to drink, they’ve just started driving, they can’t vote, they can’t play the lottery. And, as the mother of a young daughter, I really don’t think they should be dating. The moral compass in this country is heading south, and I really don’t think…

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Rebel with a coffee mug by Deb Jennifer

Okay, the truth is, I am a pretty dull person.  I don’t get into barroom brawls, have a secret heroin addiction, cross-dress, carry a concealed weapon, or plan to overthrow the government in my spare time. Still, I haven’t lived my life in a cookie-cutter kind of way, and have always hovered proudly outside the boundaries of authority and tradition.  I suppose being a lesbian puts me there automatically, but…

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Stalking the Brat by Deb Tish

I’m not a rebel–that’s too glamorous a title for me. I’m more of a common brat. The moment I hear I’m supposed to do something is the moment I’ll refuse. From wearing skirts as a kid, to trying out for cheerleading, to buying a minivan for carpooling–I wanted nothing to do with it. When other kids were attending Friday night football games in high school, my friend and I were swiping…

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News Flash!

Deb News! Debutante Jennifer McMahon’s novel, Promise Not To Tell, has been chosen by Borders for placement on the 3 For 2 table! This is a real, and well-deserved, vote of confidence in Jennifer’s debut. Congratulations! Deb Friends! Gail Konop-Baker, author of the acclaimed Bare-breasted Mama column on Literary Mama, has had a stellar week. Not only has she signed with a brilliant agent, but she was given the “All…

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Bookends by Deb Kristy

I hate the phone. It runs in my family. I am genetically predisposed to distrust all forms of instant communication. And yet for a writer on submission, the phone takes on a level of importance only slightly above oxygen. Every time I was at my lowest point on my road to publication, by some bizarre cosmic coincidence, that phone rang. Posting each instance of this would take an entire page,…

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A Watched Phone Never Rings, by Debutante Eileen

Every writer I know imagines “The Call.”  I had plenty of time to imagine the call; I anticipated that I would be doing any of the following when it happened: Working: my cell would ring, it would be my agent! I would give a squeal that would alert my co-workers that something had happened. They would rush to my office where I would share the news. Celebration and jubilation would…

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Your Future is Calling – Can You Hear Me Now? by Deb Mia

When a literary agent for GOOD THINGS called to offer me literary representation, I was sitting in my car in the parking lot of Sears in Hilo, irritated beyond belief. For starters, I had made my husband and four-year old daughter drive all around the island in search of the right infant car seat (I was pregnant and on a mission). No luck. I was trying to save money by…

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Poof by Deb Jennifer

When I got the call from my agent telling me HarperCollins had made an offer on my novel, I was cleaning the toilet.  It’s funny… you envision moments like this, fantasize about them for months and years, then when they happen, they never quite play out the way you had imagined. I was in my rattiest house cleaning clothes.   I had the white plastic brush in my hand and was…

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