SquawkRadio

Does anyone besides me remember just how awful high school was? Sometimes I get a fleeting sense that someone is intimidated by talking to me (Shakespeare professor, New York Times bestselling writer, bla bla bla). This always surprises me because I had the ego so thoroughly kicked out of me in school that I just don't see myself as the least intimidating.

Back then I was plump, miserable and sported a red afro. Both boys who showed signs of dating me in my senior year, including the boy who took me to the senior prom, are now out and gay. Has anyone read the book FAT GIRL? I just finished it, and while the author had much greater and more tragic reasons for her misery, that book came the closest I've seen to depicting just how ungodly it is to be a young person who is not physically perfect in this country.

Many of us got email expressing concerns about the purpose of Squawk Radio, and there was a great riff on one of the bbs which said it best. A reader suggested that we were like the the cool-girl clique who sat at their own table in high school. She asked if she came over, would she feel like acne-ridden freshman who sits at the cool-girls' table and they stop talking, really talking, and get polite?

Eloisa, Teresa and I responded in much the same way: wow, you mean we're the cool girls?

Eloisa said, "Can I just say that I grew up in a small town in Minnesota (population 2000), and I was plump, red-haired, too weird and unpopular for words...and I LOVE the idea of being at the cool-girl table? Can we keep this up, guys? Eloisa....finally made it, umpteen years too late."

I added, "Here's the thing -- if you don't come over to talk to us, we're not the cool girls, we're the nerds with the pocket protecters and the taped glasses. And may I say, in my former life I was a drafter and I have already worn pocket protectors and taped glasses. I also know how to use a protractor and both an engineering and architectural scale. Does that make you comfortable enough for you to drop in on us ... or will you never come over now because you don't want to hang around with the dweebs?"

And Teresa said it best, "Honey, if you think we're like the cool-girl clique in high school, then you've obviously never seen our yearbook photos *g*. Someone once said that behind every writer is a weird little kid and that is so true! If you comment, will I be nicer to you than I will to Connie, Eloisa, Christina, Lisa or Elizabeth? Um, probably. But that's only because I've had a few years to practice being rude and disrespectful to them. And I know they love it! Our goal with the blog is simply to have fun and to discuss some fun things and some serious things and to have a place to vent when one of us is just dying to verbalize an opinion and our families and friends are giving us that glazed look that says, "Go away, you weird little kid." Hope you'll pop in. You can sit at my lunch table anyday! Hugs, Teresa "Harriet the Spy" Medeiros"

I'm sure our other three Squawkers may have had similar experiences. (Guys?)

So Connie has fixed it so everyone can comment and until we're hit by spammers, you'll be able to add your insights so that everyone can enjoy them. This is a learning experience for us, so stick with us and we'll get it figured out!

Okay, one last post before I go off-line for a week. I totally agree with Christina that I won't be trashing anyone's specific books or reputation on this Blog. Mostly because if you're a non-writer, I would never come to your place of business, stand in the doorway of your office, and shout, "You suck! You should go split rocks for a living!" (Anybody see the SEINFELD episode where Jerry went to the office of the woman who heckled his show and heckled her???) There are plenty of sites and message boards on the web where readers can dish honestly about books without a bunch of neurotic writers (ie. Christina) hanging over their shoulders.

But I would like to reserve the right to recommend books if I read something wonderful. Even if it's not written by us. Even if my friend didn't pay me to recommend it. But if you want to pay me, that's cool, too. Just send a sack of unmarked bills in a plain brown wrapper c/o Teresa Medeiros to...oh... never mind...I forgot where I was for a minute...

See ya next week, my little chickadees!

We also won't trash other writers or their work. There is no way you're going to read my blogs and know which authors I don't care for either personally or because of their writing and none of the rest of us are going to let that slip, either. We will give our honest opinions about books and trends and husbands and dogs and I'm building a house which has unfortunately taken over my life (except for the writing) and Eloisa lives in Italy part of the year so she can make us deeply envious of her lifestyle and we can retaliate by saying really insightful stuff like "Nanner nanner boo boo." In other words, we won't say stuff behind anyone's back.

Hey, kids! I'm working on it. We want your comments. Invite your comments. But I am trying to figure out a way that your comments appear in a pop up box instead of a long scroll underneath. There is a taunting suggestion in the BLOG HELP that this is possible but yikes! I have twelve people coming over for dinner in two hours and the dogs are going to go ballistic if they don't get a walk before "their" company comes (yes, I am one of those people) and I need a shower and ...well, please, please, PLEASE don't think I'm trying to exclude comments.

A nice woman wrote me and asked whether or not we'll be PC with one another because we want our fans to like us and therefore will possibly be tempted to tread lightly.

MUHAHAHAAAAAA!

I mean...no.

We've set two "no-nos!" for ourselves. We will not talk about our kids and we will not talk about politics. Other than that expect anything to be put out there.


Connie Brockway

I'm going to be off-line for a week, my little chickadees. I'll expect you to generate much conversation and controversy while I'm gone and to talk about me behind my back so I won't be forgotten.

Back on May 2nd!

Teresa, blowing kisses to all

Hey, I don't just listen to Geezer Rock, Christina! One of my favorite singers is Pink. (And that's her name, not her color. She's actually kind of pale.)