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It was bad enough to find myself attracted to the brooding, dark Gregory House. Now, after watching The Actor's Studio, I find I'm attracted to the brooding, dark Hugh Laurie. What might a shrink say?

He's quite a talent and seeing him interviewed really emphasized how impressive his American accent is. Wow. No trace of it on the show at all. I liked his observations about the character and his overall offbeat sensibility. And he wrote a novel!

Cool guy.

Writers all

How synchronous that I was just writing about J.K. Rowling here and it turns out I will be going to see her at an event at Radio City this week. A friend got tickets to see Rowling, Stephen King and John Irving. I so look forward to hearing the message.

I finished the Julia Cameron book and concluded that sometimes it bears remembering that we are all flawed beings and we shouldn't put people on pedestals, as I often tend to do. After all, their humanness is what makes them so inspirational.

Probably a good perspective to take into the Radio City event.

Big thought

Lately I find myself wondering how anyone can drive a Hummer without feeling a profound sense of embarrassment.

Trois

To keep myself honest, I've decided I must occasionally check in on this whole three pages a day idea I've "borrowed" from Julia Cameron. So here goes.

Today was my third day in a row. I'm letting three pages of my book come through me and spill into my lime green spiral notebook. So far, I have done this in under 30 minutes each time.

It is magical for several reasons. One, it just flows when you don't try to edit yourself. You have to allow yourself to have a real rough draft. Two, it has a way of making you feel really accomplished. I have nine pages written and they're pretty darned good. In less than an hour and a half. At this rate I'll have well over 100 pages written by September.

Go, Nan, go.

Inspiration nugget

This paragraph about J.K. Rowling just makes me all warm and fuzzy. I ran across it on Wikipedia while doing some research (a Google search, what else?). It's not new, just a stark reminder of the Universe's sense of humor.

In 1995, Rowling completed her manuscript for Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone on an old manual typewriter. Upon the enthusiastic response of Bryony Evans, a reader who had been asked to review the book's first three chapters, the Fulham-based Christopher Little Literary Agents agreed to represent Rowling in her quest for a publisher. The book was handed to twelve publishing houses, all of which rejected it. A year later she was finally given the greenlight (and a £1500 advance) by the editor Barry Cunningham from the small publisher Bloomsbury. The decision to take Rowling on was apparently largely down to Alice Newton, the eight-year-old daughter of the company's chairman, who was given the first chapter to review by her father and immediately demanded the next. Although Bloomsbury had agreed to publish the book, Cunningham claims he advised Rowling to get a day job, as she had little chance of making money in children's books.

And as we all know, Forbes has estimated Rowling's fortune at just over a billion dollars. I love that she is the most surprised of all. After all, she was on public assistance when she wrote the first book. The context around the above paragraph is that she wrote a book for herself, not the masses. She wrote a story that was interesting to her. Common sense wisdom, not just for me but for those clients I coach whose first priority is mass appeal.

Write what comes naturally. You never know.

In threes

The Julia Cameron memoir continues to grip and inspire me. How often does one get that combination?

One thing I am particularly fascinated with in the book involves the writing process. After getting sober, she was scared of losing her writing identity. So among the support she received in recovery was this advice: write three pages a day. That's the quota. If it takes all day or if it takes an hour. It was also suggested that she let the words come through her, channel through her.

She was dubious about all of it but did it anyway. And it worked: I wasn't so much writing as I was eavesdropping. I wasn't so much thinking something up as taking something down.

Since I often have fits and starts in my writing, I decided to give this a try. Three pages a day. In longhand. (Incidentally, this is not to be confused with Cameron's other device, morning pages. That is three pages of stream of consciousness writing done every morning. It is actually more meditation than writing. I already do those.) Anyway, this evening I went to the waterfront with a spiral notebook and a pen and sat on a bench. I began writing at 7 p.m., a moment heralded by the nearby church bell. By 7:25 p.m., three pages had poured off my pen like water from a pitcher.

Yep, I think I might like this.

Speak easy

Last night I just had to tune in to TLC's new show called The Messengers. The premise is that they begin with 10 strong public speakers, put them in a really trying scenario, give them a topic and then they have to speak on that topic in front of a studio audience. It's very intense, as the idea is to be inspirational.

So the debut show began with dropping off the 10 speakers on Skid Row. They were to spend 24 hours living amongst the homeless in the cold (which for me was less challenging than the idea of rats). They were given tips on a place for a free meal and when to line up for a guy giving out new cardboard boxes. The homeless people varied in their reactions, some screaming in anger that they'd be going back to their "homes" and others opening up and sharing stories. It was hard to watch, yet fascinating.

Then they took to the stage and by the end one guy was voted off by the audience. As far as I could see, the show's main flaw is its two judges, who aren't constructive, just cheerleaders for the most part. They're a little too golly-gee for me, but the show was still worth watching. I loved seeing the styles of the different speakers, all on the topic of charity. Good speakers, for me, are real, relaxed and anecdotal.

Next week the speakers are going to be, I think, migrant workers. The coming attractions were very alluring.

I'm there.

A day

-- I walk out the door to go to the gym this morning and find (could it be?) a chill in the air.

-- The guy collecting trash along the town's sidewalks has on his cart a backpack with a picture of a woman in a French maid's outfit. I'm amused. Tasteful, like a piece of art as opposed to tawdry or cheap looking.

-- I'm getting ready for church to the tune of Led Zeppelin singing Misty Mountain Hop and loving it.

-- The message delivered at church is rousing, validating, inspiring. Reminds me why I go.

-- A late breakfast at a diner with a friend is capped off by a nice walk along 34th Street as the Empire State Building looms large.

-- On the 15-minute train ride home, I begin reading a book lent to me by a minister at church. It is Julia Cameron's memoir entitled, Floor Sample. Immediately, on page 2, I bond with her as I read this: What could be more idyllic than flannel pajamas and a new volume of Nancy Drew? Yes, Julia, yes.

-- I'm hooked on the book, so I take it to a bench on the waterfront and indulge. A friend joins me a short time later and we have a delightful conversation.

-- I head to a cafe to do a little work and decide, after making some headway, to reward myself with more of Julia's book. Her experiences at Catholic school, her feeling she didn't quite fit in, her observations about writing (Writing involved a certain self-centeredness, a belief that the world as I saw it might prove interesting to others.), how she met and eventually married Martin Scorcese. And I'm only on page 50!

-- I make a kick-butt dinner of whole wheat angel hair, broccoli, mushrooms and black olives.

A day indeed.

Lustrous

Francesca worked magic on my hair today. It is soft and silky and dark brown. It has movement. Amazing what this does for one's psyche. I feel like I could do a hair commercial. Because I'm worth it.

The salon is called Genesis. Nice touch.

Write stuff

I am working with a lot of people who want coaching around writing lately. The more I do it, the more I realize how much I love it and how naturally it comes to me. It's a niche I didn't really need to carve -- it just showed itself in the clients I've attracted.

I have this flair for looking at a piece of writing and spotting what works, what doesn't and what's really special about it. There's something so gratifying in that. It's more than just being a wordsmith, which I already knew about myself. It's an eye for a good anecdote, a clever turn of phrase.

Bring your projects, one and all.

Just rewards

Lots of work this week. A good thing, of course. But I'm ready for tomorrow, which has lots of fun in store. Lunch and dinner plans. Happy hour in between.

Yes, baby, I have earned that.

Mommy dearests

Well, if ever I've been riveted to an article, it was this week's New York magazine cover story called "The Mommy Diaries." I mean, whoa. Apparently there's this UrbanBaby website that is totally anonymous and all of these mothers post their "truth."

They illustrate the story with photos of women with babies and little cartoon bubbles with their "thoughts" such as:

I know my husband is cheating on me.

I never wanted this baby.

I guess I just wanted to get married and have a baby, but I'm starting to look at everyone else and think they're happier than me.

Well, duh. When 10 friends all graduate college together and then get married within two years of each other, surely math tells us that a few of them just married because they felt it was "time." This happens all the time. I live in a town where the median age is about 32. It's filled with upwardly mobile people who couple and start families. I hear people talking about going to four weddings in a year. How is it possible that those are all well thought-out marriages? What they are is well thought-out weddings.

But back to this article. These women are coming clean on their income levels, how pissed they are that their husbands don't get up for feedings, how sexless their marriages are. The stay-at-homes duel with the work-outside-the-homes. Goodness gracious.

Perhaps the most riveting part of all is where the writer of the article draws parallels between these women and the 1950s mothers that Betty Friedan wrote about in The Feminine Mystique. She cites, among other things, a nervous breakdown over not being able to breast feed, desperation for marriage and "taking tranquilizers like cough drops." Yes, sadly, that does sound familiar in 2006.

How fortunate I feel to have made decisions in my own life that I don't regret. Whew.

Heat

The heat is so oppressive today. And still I managed to have a highly productive day.

Color me pleased.

A career

My agenda this week is packed with coaching clients. I love how I attract such ambitious, talented people into my life with this profession. The projects they're doing, the changes they want to make in their lives. It's always fresh, always evolving.

Sometimes I can't believe I've been doing it for over four years. One client who had a goal of getting a degree in art therapy just graduated in May. Graduated! I'm an old-timer, it seems.

It's getting better and better. So good.

Upon a star

I've been thinking a lot about love. And lust. And romance.

One or all of the above?

Soon.

Joyce juiciness

I love when I'm so into reading something that the rest of the world disappears. The past couple of days on the PATH train, I've been scrambling to get off at my stop because my nose has been in a slightly dated issue of The New Yorker. I have a small stack of them from June and early July -- what a treat.

So today I'm reading about James Joyce's grandson, Stephen, who is in his 70s. He's in charge of Joyce's estate and the intricacies of it are fascinating and a little disconcerting. Scholars the world over are basically at his mercy to quote or borrow or perform anything written by his grandfather and he takes this role very seriously.

One of those scholars spent seven years creating a multimedia version of Ulysses, but Stephen blocked the project. "You should consider a new career as a garbage collector in New York City, because you'll never quote a Joyce text again," Stephen told him. Wowza.

A particular conflict that has arisen time and again is Stephen's desire to protect Joyce's personal writings and such. Scholars are particularly interested in those because Joyce is said to have drawn so much of his writing from his personal life. According to the article, Joyce drew heavily from events in newspapers and observations from his life and once said, "I'm like a man who stumbles. My foot strikes something, I look down, and there is exactly what I'm in need of."

As a writer, I love hearing that. Write what you know.

Yes I said yes I will yes.

Throwdown

Bobby Flay has this new "Throwdown" show on The Food Network and it's kind of fun. He takes on experts in various types of food specialties like chowder, barbecue or pizza. I like the surprise element, where he just shows up and challenges them to a throwdown.

The competitors always seem a little freaked out at first, but then they get down to what they're good at and rise to the occasion. Then judges are appointed to pick a winner.

The chowder guy was thrilled to see his idol show up at what he thought was just a fun event where he was making chowder for a crowd. He's been making it since age 7 and he really has it down to a science. He said he's living his dream -- surfing, chowder and The Food Network.

Love that stuff.

Absolutely

This is what I know today. Regardless of humidity, stress, hard work or anything else that cast a pall on the day, it can be fixed by running across The Big Easy while channel surfing. It can all be erased by the sight of Dennis Quaid in jeans, no shirt, all chiseled and smiling. He says, "Absolutely" with a big grin as he enters the bedroom and makes his way toward Ellen Barkin and it is a salve of sorts. Not to mention phenomenally sexy.

Yum.

Planning supreme

I'm feeling very buttoned-up these days. I'm working a big-picture plan in my coaching practice, getting structure around my book, operating from a sound financial plan in my personal life. My short-term goals are in sight, my long-term goals are right on.

It's very liberating, invigorating even. Continuing to walk my talk of staying focused but making sure to have peripheral vision so as to be open to all possibilities.

Very good.

Cruise control

So I see some media types are obsessing over why we have seen no photos of Suri Cruise, who was born in April. First of all, who cares what the kid looks like? Second, I'd venture to say that shielding his newborn from the public is the most normal thing Tom Cruise has done in years.

Party

Went to an interesting party last night. A 40th birthday bash for my sister's best friend, who spent a lot of time with my family growing up. It was like having another sister around.

She and her husband (it's worth mentioning it was a joint 40th birthday bash) did this party up right. Plentiful drinks. Good food. The chocolate fountain alone was a delight, with marshmallows, strawberries and other goodies to dip.

But the best part about it was reconnecting with people from the past, people who had prominent roles in the play that was life in our suburban New Jersey neighborhood. There was some catching up on the now and some reminiscing on the "then." My life is so far removed from that life and it felt good to remember how it all started.

Really good.

Weekend

A fun weekend ahead. A party with some old friends. Some treasured idle time on a train. A little bit of work on some meaningful projects. Some reading.

Yeah, it'll be a good one.

Wishes

Imagine my surprise when, just hours after blogging that I wanted the humidity to go away, I walked out my door into crisp-feeling air this morning.

Woohoo. Maybe I should try that again.

Please cram my calendar with lots of fabulous life coaching clients.

Please let my book writing flow under grace in a perfect way.

Yep. That would be good.

Breath

Please make the humidity go away.

I want to feel energetic again.

Like I can breathe right down to my lungs again.

Sit at the waterfront in comfort again.

Give me quality air.

Again.

Exciting goals

Happened to come home and flip on the TV just as the second half of the World Cup semifinal was beginning. Italy vs. host Germany. Haven't really kept up with the World Cup, but I started watching nonetheless. (Old habits die hard?)

Scoreless in regulation. Yikes. Can't look away now. Two overtime periods of 15 minutes each. First one scoreless. Second one, things really start to heat up. Italy's goalkeeper makes an amazing, purely instinctive, leaping save. If that doesn't fire up the Italians, nothing will.

Sure enough, two Italian goals in the waning moments of the second overtime period. First one, a dazzling finish of a superb pass into the box. Second one, a blast lifted over the 'keeper into the top of the net. ESPN showed a live shot of people watching at a stadium in Rome and it was sheer bedlam.

Way cool. Forgot how beautiful a sport it can be. For a sports writer, it's that kind of game that's payoff for all the run-of-the-mill ones you sit through.

Nice flashback.

Fanatics

I'm minding my business walking along the waterfront when a young woman hands me a pamphlet that says, "Beware of religious fanatics handing out pamphlets."

Of course, she is the very fanatic described in her pamphlet, which went on to inform me that, "God wants us to look to him as Numero Uno, #1 ..." All of this was written next to a heart with an arrow through it -- the kind we all drew in junior high when we had crushes on guys -- that says, "Me & God."

What is with people? Can't they love God or whoever and just know it's right for them? Not to sound too utopian, but wouldn't the world be a better place if everyone worshipped in a personal way?

I'd vote for that.

Freedom in fiction

I suppose it is testament to its deliciousness that I spent much of today reading and finishing The Devil Wears Prada. Author Lauren Weisberger has done what half the population wishes it could do -- nail a boss to the wall. I found it clever and insightful and an accurate portrayal of the 20-something mindset, especially one embarking on a career in New York.

Reading some of the interviews of Weisberger, it reminded me how fiction gives rise to so many questions in readers -- Who is this character based on? Did this incident really happen? How much of this is autobiographical?

My own book certainly blurs the lines. (Wink. Wink.) What fun.

Riveting read

For some reason, never got around to reading The Devil Wears Prada. So now that the movie trailers are all over the TV, I've become increasingly intrigued. I mean, aside from the obvious guilty pleasure, who wouldn't want to write a successful book and have Meryl Streep playing the lead in the movie?

Wound up buying a copy at a train station today. Hunkered down in the train seat and when I looked up I couldn't believe I was almost at my stop. The book is a hoot. Makes me think of the countless assistants scurrying all over New York City performing mundane and monumental tasks for egomaniacs.

It's 128 pages down, about 300 to go. Can't wait to dig in.