I love my job, which this morning has "forced" me to research what proms were like in the 1990s -- their likely themes and dresses -- which led to me looking for prom scenes in various '90s films. Did I mention I love my job?
Update: Twitter is VERY interested in proms and, yes, Jessica McClintock was the designer I was grasping for. Tentative plan: the prom is set in 1997, the song is "Unbreak My Heart." But remember, '97 in Baltimore is '94 everywhere else, fashion-wise.
Great now I'm shopping for prom dresses on eBay, thank god I'm not doing this later in the evening when alcohol might have entered my system.
I realize I have not shared my own prom memories. The theme was "Meet Me To-night in Dreamland" when I graduated from Deep Valley High School in 1910 and I wore a dress from Lion's Department Store. #deepcut@BetsyTacyTib
Update: Prom Twitter is the best Twitter.
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Today I submitted my course description for a 2021 workshop on the personal essay. It may or may not happen, but, alas for you, Twitter, it got me thinking.
Full disclosure: I seem to come to genres when they have been pronounced dead. My first novel, which centered on a female PI, went out on submission in 1995 after I spent a year searching for an agent.
There were three offers and seven rejections. The winning offer was from @carrieeyre, my editor to this day. But I also want to give a shout out to @eamondolan, who wrote a rejection so lovely and kind and encouraging, I never forgot it.
Can we talk about the time I was awakened in the middle of the night to learn I had just won an award? And can we pretend this what I was wearing?
While this is Edgar Week, there are many prizes given for crime fiction. The Agatha, Barry, Macavity, Nero Wolfe, the Strand, the Hammett -- the list goes on and on. The Anthony is given based on vote by those who attend Bouchercon.
I think I've lost the Anthony as many times as I've lost the Edgar. But I've also won it . . . seven times across three categories.
Happy birthday to IMHO Baltimore’s quintessential bard, John Waters, who officiated at my wedding in 2006. This is what I wore.
I had taken a notion (always a dangerous thing) that I needed to buy "investment" clothing. This is a St. John's suit that, even 14 years later, I think ages me. In my defense, I think Angelina Jolie was the face of the brand at the time.
Besides, it wasn't my first time at the rodeo, nor was it the groom's. We decided to marry in secret in October that year. Only John and my stepson were present.