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Entries in Daughters (2)


Faith in humanity +0.01

If you’ve been watching the news I’m sure you’re as heartbroken as I am by the horrible events in Connecticut. Watching President Obama tear up, seeing news anchors break down and sob on live TV, it’s enough to make me want to cancel my subscription to the human race.

I did the normal things we all do. I hugged my children and told them how much I loved them. I wandered around in a fog, trying to process such abject sadness, not wanting to even think about what those parents must be going through.

And I thought about one of my daughters in particular, who is already having an exceptionally terrible week at that sucking chest-wound we call high school. She’s the progeny of artists. She’s creative and brilliant, but in an environment where kids are valued by how much they bench-press or the cup size of their bras, she struggles.

So while watching the horrible news, I sent a message to Mac Miller, a hip-hop artist my daughter likes. I sat next to Mac on a flight a few months back. He was a cool guy but so young he couldn’t even order a drink in First Class, opting for a Coke Zero. And he was obviously road-weary from two years of non-stop touring. (Last year his album, Blue Slide Park, was the first Indie record to debut at #1 on Billboard’s Top 200).

It was nice talking to him. I respected his work ethic. I admired his knuckles, which were tatted “MOST DOPE”. And I understood his appreciation for a mother's home cooking. Plus he’s a social media fiend (answering tweets throughout the flight); so I figured what the heck? I mentioned that my daughter was having a rough time and asked if he could give her a little shout-out.

He immediately tweeted her one word: SMILE.

This is a guy with 3 million Twitter followers. I’m sure it didn’t take long to send that simple text, but sometimes it’s the little things that matter.

My daughter cried tears of joy on a very sad day. And suddenly my love/hate relationship with the human race wasn't so bad. Thanks Mac.


A tale of two sisters

I had a lovely time in Findlay, Ohio last week. Findlay is near Lima (for the Gleeks in the viewing audience), and near the other non-fictional towns where the Warblers and Vocal Adrenaline hail from.

I was in Findlay where HOTEL was chosen as their CommunityREAD, and not only did I speak with adult readers, but also about 1,000 high-school students. I love speaking with students because they don’t hesitate to ask questions like, “How much money do you make?” and “Can I have your daughter’s phone number?” (Yes, one intrepid lad did ask, and no Tyler, you cannot).

Speaking of, I was in a mad rush to get home in time for Rissa’s first prom and Kassie’s birthday. Saturday’s photos echo the dichotomy that can only exist between sisters.

Rissa with her date. Kassie with her "date" -- Bob, the karate dummy. Little brother not included.For the longest time one wanted to be a doctor, the other a medical examiner. Can you guess which is which? And of course there’s also the pairing of Madi, who is musically and artistically inclined, and Haley, who will go off to college next year, hoping to become a behavioral scientist. Which has led me to the inexplicable conclusion that my kids watch far too much crime TV.

And in case you’ve been keeping track, yes, there are four—FOUR teenager girls in my home, which has officially been dubbed: The Estrogen Holding Tank. Caution: Contents Under Pressure.

In other news, I’m working on a few pitches for Secret Identities 2: Shattered.