What’s the deal with this blog?
I started this blog in 2005. It was originally called Mock Chicken, and was about the adventures of my friends Lily and Lulu. My only ambition was to amuse myself—and them. Later, when I sold my first book and set up my Jenny Holiday site, I moved the blog over here because apparently authors need blogs. It’s still (mostly) the same old blog.
But occasionally you blog about romance.
Yes. I have some stuff to say about RomanceLand, but not enough to sustain an entire blog on the topic. My intention is that if you liked Mock Chicken, you can still come here and read the same sorts of posts. You might occasionally have to skip a post you’re not interested in. If you’ve found your way here through my books, maybe you’ll be entertained by the non-romance posts as well. PR people will tell you not to mix this shit up. They’re probably right, but no one has arrested me so far.
So this means original readers of Mock Chicken know who you really are. Like, they know your real name.
Yep.
Who are these random ladies you keep blabbing about?
My real friends. Everything you read here has really happened. Only their names have been ever-so-slightly changed, and my sole writerly conceit is that sometimes things are reported out of sequence, because I am lazy.
Lily and I met as undergraduates in the 1990s at a large university, where we had student jobs in an office that existed to counsel brilliant high school students who were attending the university early because they were so brilliant. She’s into Dark Wave. Yes, that’s New Wave crossed with Goth. When I visit her in New York, she takes me to The Batcave. Who knew? In a world of copies, Lily is an original.
Lulu and I met at work, at another university, where we attended a weekly meeting in common. The only two who persisted in arriving for meetings on time, we were forced to sit together and make polite chit chat. A year later, each starting different positions, we ended up sharing an office, which means that we spent more waking hours with each other than we did with our respective spouses. Lulu is prone to shouting out what I’ve learned to call Lulu-isms unbidden and completely out of any context (“Somebody better shave my legs soon, or I’m going to rip all my clothes!”) They broke the mold when they made Lulu.
Who’s the Boss?
The Boss gets her own section because this way I get to title it, “Who’s the Boss?” The Boss is not Judith Light. The Boss used to be…my boss. See how imaginative I am? She is much cuter than Bruce Springsteen, if you’re wondering. She hired me ten years ago for a job that I was not really qualified for, in a field I had no experience in. Then she assigned me to a shared office with Lulu. End of story. OK, not really. The Boss was a really good boss. For example, she never minded when Lulu took to shouting her name in a panic or put melba toast in the filing cabinet. But she was also a class act, and I learned a lot from her about HOW TO CONDUCT ONESELF IN A PROFESSIONAL SETTING. Also, I should mention that now that she does not believe in sensible shoes. If you’re going to go out with The Boss, don’t make her walk 20 blocks to get to a super cool bar.
What about BG and Mr. Holiday?
BG = The Baby Goth, and is the fruit of my loins. When he was a toddler, black was his favourite colour. He would only colour with black crayons. Once, at the pediatricians, when we were conducted to “the yellow room” to wait for the doctor, he said to the nurse, “You should have black rooms. Black is my colour.” Basically, Lily put the whammy on him.
Mr. Holiday, the Artist Formerly Known as Mr. Mock, is my love.