My new book, GOOD LUCK, is out!

Find out more about GOOD LUCK here, and read an excerpt here.

If you’d like to find out about my inspiration for GOOD LUCK and what would happen if I won the lottery, read my essay here. And learn what five things I can’t work without here.

MOM: So what do you have planned this week?
ME: I have a new book coming out.
MOM: Really? When?
ME: Tuesday.
MOM: When can I read it?
ME: You already have read it. Remember?
MOM: No.
ME: I gave you a copy over the summer.
MOM: Wait . . . is that the one about the lottery winner?
ME: Yes.
MOM: Oh, right. I have read that one. I thought you meant you had another one coming out.
ME: Nope. Just the one.
MOM: What’s it called again? LUCKY?
ME: No.
MOM: I thought it was LUCKY?
ME: No. It’s called GOOD LUCK.
MOM: I was close. LUCKY, GOOD LUCK . . . practically the same thing. Anyway, that’s exciting!

Sam: Mama, where does Superman live?
Me: I have no idea. Ask your father.
Sam: Daddy, where does Superman live?
George: He lives in the Fortress of Solitude.
Sam: Where does Spiderman live?
George: In an apartment in New York City.
Sam: Where does Batman live?
George: In Wayne Manor in Gotham City.
Me:
George: What?

Only three weeks until the release of my new book, Good Luck! Booklist gave Good Luck a starred review, calling it a “superb tale of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” You can read an excerpt here.

I’m already addicted to the new season of The Amazing Race. I have to congratulate the producers: they managed to find a couple even more dysfunctional than Jonathan and Victoria.

The best moment of unintentional comedy in last night’s episode came when Sarah expressed frustration that Terrence wanted to play kissy face in the middle of a Roadblock, and said something along the lines of, “this is emblematic of how different Terrance and I are.”

Yeah. Or it could be emblematic of the fact that your boyfriend is a freaking nutjob. He’s making my feel claustrophobic — love me, nurture me, pay attention to ME, ME, ME — and I’m not even the one dating him. I’m hoping for a double whammy where Terrence and Sarah get Philiminated, and then Sarah turns around and dumps Terrence right there on the mat.

I’ve succumbed to Bad Mom guilt.

Rather than just doing the sensible thing, and buying the adorable-yet-insanely-overpriced robot costume from Pottery Barn, I’ve decided to make Sam’s Halloween costume myself this year.

I started to feel the first twinges of guilt while chatting with the other moms while we watched our offspring playing Teenie Tennis.

Conversation turned to Halloween costumes, and I admitted I hadn’t yet purchased one for Sam. The other mothers looked at me as though I’d just confessed to baking psychedelic brownies for his after-school snack.

“You don’t make his costumes?” they asked, eyebrows collectively raised.

Ah, crap, I thought.

This implied criticism alone wouldn’t have sent me scuttling off to the craft store. But when I tentatively suggested to Sam that we try making his costume this year, he adored the idea. Eyes shining, beautiful little face beaming, he said, “Oh, yes, Mama, please make me a costume.”

And that was that. Actually, that wasn’t that. Because ever since I’ve signed on for this insanity, Sam has been tossing idea after idea at me. In just the past day, he has demanded that I make the following costumes for him:

1. A ghost (easy, I know, but get this: he wants to be a flying ghost);
2. Superman;
3. A “scary tree” (whatever the hell that’s supposed to be);
4. A train; and
5. Winnie the Pooh.

Oh, dear.

Here’s the thing: I can cut squares of felt up. I can hot glue stuff. I can probably even sprinkle some glitter around. But whipping up a Winnie the Pooh costume on the sewing machine? That I can not do.

I’m therefore rejecting all of Sam’s idea, and picked out an easy first project:

Sam is going to be Lego Man. Luckily, he is just as keen on Lego Man as he was on Winnie the Pooh, so if I can pull it off, he’ll be happy. Right up until he decides he wants me to whip up a fire breathing dragon costume (with real fire, natch) at the last minute.

I’ll keep you posted.

Friday update: Today Sam announced he wants to be Buzz Lightyear for Halloween.

The only problem? During a typical Floridian October, a head-to-toe polyester ensemble pretty much guarantees a heat stroke.

Suddenly the whole flying ghost idea is sounding good to me.

Buzz does have one of my favorite movie lines of all time: “You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity.”

I’m just waiting for a chance to use that on someone.