Simply Sara and Magic Red Pepper Sauce

Not sure where to start.

I'll start with the book. Simply Sara arrived via FedEx this morning. She's lovely. And Shiny.

There are some things you should know about this book.

1.) Simply Sara is a slimmer volume than Plain Jayne. Don't think that you're getting less book, though. Sara is actually about 5,000 words longer. She's just formatted for print in such a way that she uses less paper.

2.) Ergo, Sara is quite eco-friendly. Which will make Sonnet's parents happy. You'll find out why when you read the book.

3.) Do me a favor. Please. Pretty please. Do not flip to the back to read the ending. Please. Don't do it. You know who you are. I've done this myself - things get dicey and you want to know that the author is going to land this plane on the tarmac, not the middle of the Indian ocean.

You have to trust me. The plane lands. It's a surprise. It's a good surprise. This is not Hamlet. There are no bodies being dragged off the stage. I'm just as invested in the happiness of my characters as you are. Probably more. One night Danny came home to find me having an absolute meltdown because of what Sara (who technically is not a real person) was going through.

But you know what? A week later in the writing game, things turned around. Sara winds up very happy, and she does so in a manner that completely surprised me. I wish that same surprise for you. So keep your fingers from flipping back there. Nothing good can come of it. And the witty acknowledgements are in the front, so you really have no excuse.

4. You can download the first chapter here.

5. You can view the super cute book trailer here.

6. You can also mark your calender for the first official book signing at Barnes & Noble in Eugene, which is October 3rd at 4pm.

Moving on.

I'm now working on a book about Jayne and Sara's dear friend, Gemma. Ah, Gemma, who cooks like an angel and accessorizes in a way that Michael Kors would approve of. Gemma who has a job many would dream of. Gemma who cannot, it seems, get a decent date.

There's more to the story than that, and my agent and I are shaping and discoursing over it, but I think it's going to be amazing.

And not just because, well, it's Gemma, and we get to hang out in the kitchen with her. Though that is one very good reason.

In the chapter I'm working on, she makes herself dinner. I want to sit at her feet in the kitchen, sneaking bites whenever she gets distracted. The first item I included was a red pepper sauce.

The sauce is inspired by the Pioneer Woman's Red Pepper sauce. Now, I love her, and I loved the sauce, but I had a hunch it could go places. Yummy places.

So I experimented, and...wow.

You want this sauce. Trust me.

What you need:

Pasta of choice (I like campanelle and farfalle at the moment)

4 large red peppers

1/2 an onion

2-3 cloves of garlic

Creme Fraiche

Heavy Cream

Red pepper flakes

Some sugar

Some salt

Some milk

Grated Parmesan cheese (Pecorino Romano works too)

Note: This recipe is not particularly...precise. But we're not baking here. It's okay to make things the way you want them in a sauce like this.

1. Roast the peppers. This can take a bit, so bring a book, or your phone, or your child, or something. I stick mine on a baking sheet covered with foil and place them under the broiler, top rack of my oven. Once the tops get nice and blackened, pull out the sheet and turn them. Keep doing this until they're completely black and blistered. Stick them (using tongs), into a plastic ziplock bag and let them sweat for a while.

2. While they're sweating, chop the onion and garlic. Saute them in a medium saucepan in some olive oil, over medium-ish heat. Throw in some red pepper flakes. I just shook it a couple times - if you like things spicier, go for it. You're eating it. Cook until the onions are golden but not dry. Remove from heat.

3. Pull out your blender. Hopefully, your peppers are cool enough to handle by now. If not, you can work on the first one while you stick the others in the fridge to take the edge off. Remove the blackened skin and inside seeds, but don't worry about having little tiny bits of burn in there. It's okay. Stick your finished peppers in your blender. Add the onion mixture and puree.

4. When the pepper and onion mixture is quite smooth, transfer it back to the sauce pan. Add a couple dollops of creme fraiche (so good!). Oh, and if your blender is like mine and it's hard to get every last bit out, pour in a bit of milk. Like, 1/4 cup or so. Swish it around, pour it into your pot. Add some heavy cream. Stir. Reheat it.

5. Taste it. At this point, I added some salt and about 1/2 tsp or so of sugar to bring out the sweetness of the peppers. Maybe even a whole teaspoon. Not a lot, but enough.

6. Let it sit on the burner on low while you cook the pasta. Serve with grated cheese and snipped arugula over the top. You could also put some extra creme fraiche on the top, if you were feeling a bit underweight.

7. Now, if you're eating this with a man, I totally recommend a pork & portobello mushroom sausage that's at Costco. I'm sorry, I can't tell you want kind it is, specifically. There's also provolone in it too, I think. It's good. You can fry it up (don't need oil, it has plenty of its own fat) while the pasta is cooking, cut into half-rounds. Give it a good rinse when it's done, though. It's not low-fat, but rinsing it will take the edge off. Once you've drained and rinsed the pasta, throw in the sausage and pour the sauce over it.

Seriously. It's magical, and very very flavorful.

Getting sleepy. If you make the pasta, let me know, k?

It's my Birff-day

...Though I have a hard time believing it. Really. There's been so much crazy going on, on so many different levels. I haven't blogged much lately. Haven't used Twitter, either, but if you've been following the "news," you'll know that Twitter kills.

Anyway.

I got up this morning and checked my facebook page.

And realized that over the last year, my life has changed.

I discovered Greek yogurt. I got hooked on green tea. I found the perfect mascara. I learned to drive a car with cruise control. I got back on the sewing wagon. I figured out how to sift powdered sugar. I rediscovered the color yellow. I cut my hair short, as short (if not shorter) than it was in college. I watched my husband graduate with a masters degree. I made my first roux. I sang along with Glee.

I published a book. I can't tell you how many years I blew out my candles, wishing for a contract, wishing to publish a novel.

Plain Jayne came out in January. Sara will be out shortly. Over the last year, I've experienced my first release, first review in Publishers Weekly, first booksignings, first radio interview...

Because of the book, I've gotten to meet wonderful readers online, women who I'd never be able to connect with otherwise. It's crazy. It's humbling.

And I have no idea what next year will bring. But if there's something better than Greek yogurt out there, I'm ready.

Passing Through

I need a better blogging system. By that, I mean that having a blogging system at all wouldn't be the worst idea. Life is unstructured right now; I'm between projects. Rather than spend long days trying desperately to get 1,200 words out, I'm working on everything else I put off until I hit one of the many deadlines that lead up to a print date.

So here's everything that's been going on in the Lodge camp:

1. Our grandpas passed away this last week. Two of them, opposite sides of the country, within 24 hours of each other. One was expected. We had no idea about the other until we got the call. Danny and I each have our own roller-coaster moments, but we're hanging in there. Can I just say that if you want to rack up treasure in heaven, grocery shop for those who have experienced loss. A precious friend brought us dinner (and then some!). It's amazing how something so simple can be so profound.

2. In other news, the Oregon Christian Writers' Conference went down beautifully. A herd of writers came out. It was fantastic. My classes went well, meetings with conferees over manuscripts went well, copies of Plain Jayne graduated from the back of my car to the loving homes of several readers. I am a bit exhausted, though. While I do a pretty good impersonation of an extrovert when necessary, it's nice to be home in the quiet.

3. I started work on the next book! It's about Gemma (friend to Jayne and Sara, feeder of many), and I have to say, It's going to be delicious. If you have any amazing recipes to pass on, let me know (and by amazing, I mean "something you'd feed to a food critic" good. Gemma doesn't mess around. Unless it's Oreos. She has a secret weakness for them...)

4. I'm officially all registered to attend the ACFW conference in September. This will be my first ACFW conference, as well as my first venture into the state of Indiana.

5. I bought yarn last night. Haven't knitted anything in about a year (I know; the mind reels). I have a bunch of Louisa Harding's Ca'D'Oro but it's not particularly seasonal - I just can't work with wool in the heat of the summer. So I bought a sweater's worth of this last night - it's the grey color shown at the top (though I really liked the Apple Blossom, I thought the grey would be be more multi-seasonal).

Sorry. This isn't my funniest or most insightful blog. Not for lack of material - I probably ought to write a whole blog about my new smart phone (in particular my intelligence-challenged so-called "genius button"), but I'm not there yet. Hopefully soon, though. It's an unusual season to be passing through; the trick is to remember we're just passing through.

The Affair of the Vanilla Bean

So, if you've been following things on Facebook or Twitter, you know we've been on an ice cream making kick.

I made lavender ice cream. Danny made vanilla. Actually, he was intending to make cookies and cream, but this was the kind of seriously eggy, custardy, vanilla beany ice cream that we were loathe to put Oreos in to, so we didn't.

I ate it over nectarines. Danny ate it with chocolate sauce. It was perfection either way.

My lavender ice cream...well...it tasted like plant. Strongly like plant. I knew I was kind of generous with the tablespoon of dried petals I used to infuse the cream, but when your ice cream tastes of sweetened soap, there's a problem.

(Side note: I still like idea of lavender ice cream, but I think the addition of 1/2 of a vanilla bean and a serious decrease of petals, and a scant pinch of salt will give it a more rounded flavor. I'll letcha know how that goes.)

Anyway, we ate all the vanilla ice cream. I wanted more. I scraped away at our remaining vanilla bean (left over from infusing the sugar for my sister-in-law's bridal shower last year), stirred the cream over the stove, beat the eggs and superfine sugar, tempered the eggs, and returned everything to the pot, over medium heat, so the thing would simmer until "thick enough to coat a spoon."

I hate the phrase "thick enough to coat a spoon." Coat for how long? How thick? Winter coat? Spring jacket?

And then the thing separated on me. Suddenly, it looked like the illegitimate offspring of tapioca pudding and corn grits. I don't know why (I have my theories), but there is nothing in the recipe that told me to do anything differently.

Feeling like I'd just ruined the batch, I began to make plans to start over. This is a labor of love as well as the action born from desperation, because it was 90 degrees outside and standing over a hot stove, even with our freestanding A/C on, still isn't my idea of perfection.

I'd made a trip to Wal-Mart earlier in the day to restock on cream and whole milk. I'd looked for vanilla beans. There were none.

So I went to Albertsons, where I found a bottle with a single vanilla bean. It was $12.34. One bean.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't take it home and make the most expensive ice cream on the planet, especially since I had designs on two other batches, and I really didn't want to spend $37.02 on three batches of ice cream.

I went to Win-Co, to see if they had cheaper beans. They didn't. They had no beans.

I called Trader Joe's - no beans.

I drove up Beltline to Delta Highway to Market of Choice. In the spice aisle - one bean, $8.83(ish). Better. Kind of.

In bulk?

$2.25. Each.

I bought four.

They're not Madagascar Bourbon vanilla beans. They were not cultivated by monks. They were not fertilized by fire berries. They were not shipped to the country cradled in a bed of silk.

But they're $2.25 each. I. Don't. Care.

P.S. I churned up the lumpy custard. It came out perfectly.

Happy Anniversary, Us - Part III

Three years ago today, I married my best friend.

You'd think tickling his feet has gotten old by now, but it hasn't.

This year has been a wild ride. Danny worked overtime hours while completing a master's degree. I published and promoted one book while writing 92,000 of the most difficult words I've ever written.

Danny celebrated with me when my first book arrived, and a few days later, when a whole box of books followed. He made me laugh at the cover of the Large Print Edition, came to every book signing and event, helped set up and take down the books, poster, postcards, and punch bowl full of chocolates.

He was very, very angry when he read my worst book review. He beamed over my Publishers Weekly and Booklist reviews.

I got to go to Vermont with Danny and watch as he gained the respect of his classmates and professors during his masters residency. I pinned his masters hood in place, and saw him shake the dean's hand as he received his diploma.

I like the quiet moments best, though. Tea on Saturday mornings. Walks we take, hand in hand. Sitting on the couch, reading books with the windows open.

I like the funny bits that have become our own - the way grass makes us laugh, the way Danny eats cheese, the way I giggle over the phrase some say.

I like how Danny brings adventure into my life in ways I never thought would happen.

It hasn't been an easy year, but it's been a good one. I can't imagine what the next will hold.

Writing lessons from Eclipse

Writing Lessons Inspired by the Undead and the Furry:

1.) Show, Don't Tell.

Yeah, Jacob says he's in love with Bella. We heard him. Several times, actually, the kid was a broken record. (And honestly, saying you'll love someone until their heart stops beating is...awkward.) But...how does he show it? Actively show it, not just repeat it over and over while inserting insults regarding her boyfriend?

Aside from a bracelet with a wolf charm, there's not much evidence. Dude, buy a vowel. Maybe the reason she's with him and not you is because you won't stop yapping about how you're right and he's wrong. Just saying.

2.) Unless your villain is really, really, interesting, we don't need to spend much time with him/her.

Pretty much, unless your villain is whomever Christophe Waltz is playing or Cruella DeVille - i.e., really, really interesting. 

...just assume we're not all that emotionally or intellectually invested in this person. Sure, we respect that he/she needs to be there as a plot device, but given the choice we'd rather be hanging out with the main characters than with the army of baby vampires and their problems that mean less to us than what Alice picks to wear on any given occasion.

3. Be aware of your pacing.

Pretty much, you want lots of rising action, no matter what genre you're writing in. And when you reach your climax, the amount of time you spend in it should be directly proportionate to the amount of time you've spent building it up. So, if (for instance) you've been having issues with a certain redhead for three books/film installations, maybe dispatching her three minutes after she and the protagonist share the same screen is a bit quick. Just a little.

4. Establish your universe perimeters early and stick to them.

I may be missing something, but I don't remember Jasper having a southern accent in either of the two previous films. I don't remember references to a drawl in any of the books. But suddenly, he's so southern he sounds like he's auditioning for a role in True Blood.

Also - when Vampires die they shatter? I don't remember this. Did this happen earlier? Do they splinter? Are there shards?

Are they extra-flammable? Because Victoria seemed to catch fire real quick. The whole thing reminded me a little of the second Hellboy film, the way the Elves turned to ivory or alabaster or something after they died (I couldn't tell which, but it looked cool).

That's what I thought about when I watched Eclipse. What did you think?