Discuss Amongst Yourselves -- Jay

The E.B. White Read Aloud Award was first given in 2004, then divided into two categories a couple years later (one for picture books and one for older readers). Being a rather new award, it’s still building name recognition, and not one I imagined seeing my name attached to…until now.

No, I didn’t win the award. But Thirteen Reasons Why has been nominated for it. Quick! Guess which category!

The nomination got me thinking about an aspect of writing which I never thought about while working on 13RW…or any of my previous (and still unpublished) novels. See, I always wanted lots and lots and lots of readers. Primarily, I wanted to entertain them. And secondarily (if that’s a word, and even if it’s not), I wanted to present opportunities to think about the world from other points of view…and not necessarily my point of view.

But I never considered that amazing D-word: discussion.

Because of 13RW book clubs popping up across the country, schools and bookstores and libraries are bringing teens and adults together to discuss the issues raised in the book. Those discussions allow for even more points of view than what I presented in the book. Which is amazing!

I’ve also heard from parents and children, boyfriends and girlfriends, and best friends who read the book aloud to each other (one person reading as Clay, the other as Hannah). Those discussions led to even deeper understandings among already close readers. Which is amazing!

Why this has me so excited is because it brings me back to my high school days. I remember one teacher, Mr. Miller, who often brought up “contemporary issue” discussions in his classroom. Some of the issues were controversial. But when he raised the issues, he never offered his own opinions. He simply wanted us to hear what other students thought. And I was very opinionated about some of those issues. In response to my opinions, his most common question was, “But why?” And he never accepted, “It’s just how I feel” as a legitimate answer.

After hearing other points of view in that class, my opinions changed quite a bit on quite a few issues…though I rarely admitted that in class!

So whether Thirteen Reasons Why (or future books) are read aloud among close family members and friends, or discussed by large groups in a safe environment, I am beyond thrilled…because discussion is always a good thing. At the very least, even if your opinion isn’t changed, it allows you to know why other people hold differing points of view.

And that, I know, has made me a much better person…and writer.

- Jay

It is Better to Have Loved and Lost -- Eve

…than to never have loved at all. Isn’t that the way it goes? I never really agreed with this saying when it applies to real life. I mean, losing love really sucks, and if you’ve never been in love, you don’t know what you’re missing. Right?

But I do agree with this saying when applied to books and movies. After watching Atonement the other night, I realized that all the big, great love stories end tragically. Does anyone ever really get the girl (or guy) in a drama? I went through a quick list of classics: Casablanca, Romeo and Juliet, Endless Love, Out of Africa, The English Patient, Love Story, Brokeback Mountain, Ghost, Titanic. I guess star-crossed lovers only end up together in romantic comedies.

Which, of course, brings me to my current YA work-in-progress. Yes, the same one I’ve been working on for over a year. The love story. Yes, that one. It’s strange to think about the two lovers not ending up together. After all, they adore each other, they overcome tremendous obstacles, and I really, really love them! They must be together or the world will stop spinning! But, I also know that the tone and theme of the story may call for them to go their separate ways. Waaahhh! I know, so sad, right?

In the end, maybe it’s the longing for the love that can never be that touches readers more than the acquisition of that love. I mean, I was really happy when Harry and Sally finally kissed on New Year’s Eve, and promised to stay together forever. But when Francesca decided to stay in her truck on that rainy afternoon and let Robert Kincaid drive away from the Madison County bridges forever, knowing she would never set eyes on him again…well, that image still haunts me at night. And I read the book 14 years ago!

Maybe “having loved and lost” is the key to a good romance. I looked up the word romantic in the dictionary. It says: involving a relationship that is idealized, exciting, intense, and impractical. Impractical? Hmm... Interesting. I guess that’s why we don’t see romance movies where Harry and Sally or Robert and Francesca are arguing over paying bills, or trading in their convertible for a minivan, or saving for their kids’ college fund, or folding laundry together. Practical? Sure. Romantic? Not so much.

- Eve

Oscar Thoughts -- Robin

If you’re wondering if the Disco Mermaids watched the Oscars Sunday night, the answer is “Yes!” Even though the three of us watched it separately—Eve watched it in the comforts of her home, Jay watched it lounging on the sofa at his parents’ home while eating Chubby Hubby ice cream, and I watched it while teetering on the edge of my bed, folding socks and underwear, and reminding my son and husband not to involve me in their wrestling match/epic pillow fight because, for crying out loud, Daniel Day-Lewis is speaking!!!

Yep, I’ve had a thing for Daniel Day-Lewis ever since My Left Foot. So watching him win Best Actor (again) was amazing. (Watching George Clooney wasn’t awful either.)

For me, I came away with a couple of thoughts from watching the Oscars…

• Yes, Katherine Heigl looked like a goddess.

• No, Jessica Alba didn’t look fat and pregnant and bloated and uncomfortable. (It just would’ve made me feel better, okay!!??)

• Yes, Jon Stewart’s “Gaydolf Titler” joke was freakin’ hilarious!

But really, my favorite moment was when the adorable couple from the movie Once won Best Song. If you want to hear the song, click here. (Maybe even put on headphones and crank it loud…it’s truly beautiful.) And here’s an interview for a little backstory.

I love when creative people put their heart and soul into a project and then get recognized for it. It inspires me to take my writing to that heart-and-soul level and search for that perfect phrase or perfect description to make the character and the story so much more alive. So I want to thank the Academy for inspiring me to be a better writer and for nominating George Clooney…because he’s hot.

What about you guys? Any Oscar thoughts?

- Robin

Moo! -- Jay

Stuck at home, recuperating after last week’s surgery, I decided to go through my desk and throw away things I’d been saving for way too long. But in the end, nothing got thrown away. Why? Cuz it’s all too valuable!

For example, look at this:


This is a laminated bookmark for a humorous middle grade novel I wrote about eight years ago. I made dozens of these for my trip to the first annual Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators conference in NYC. I hadn’t even finished writing the book, but I was passing these out like candy. Now, why would I do that if the book wasn’t finished yet?

I have no idea. So let’s move on...

Later that year, when I did finish the book, it won SCBWI’s Sue Alexander Most Promising New Work Award, which got me a free flight back to New York to meet with a bunch of cool editors. One of those editors even wanted to buy the manuscript, but his bosses at Simon & Schuster didn’t share in his excitement. I revised The ChocoBarn Cow for a year or so, changed the title to My Udder Life, but it still never sold…even though it’s really funny!

Here’s the deal. I only have two of these bookmarks left, but I’m willing to give one to you. Whatcha gotta do to get it? Just leave a comment on this post by midnight on Tuesday, telling me what you think the story’s about. If you’re the first person to guess correctly, it’s yours! If no one guesses correctly, the most creative answer wins.

Oh, and thanks for helping me clean out my desk.

- Jay


P.S. I'll even autograph it if you want me to!

What It’s Worth—Robin

Remember that joke that goes: You know you’re a redneck when… (You can finish the punch line in your head. Or, of course…in the comments section.)

This week, I created my own version of that joke, only it wasn’t very funny, so don’t get your hopes up. Here goes…

You know you’re a freakishly obsessed children’s book writer when…your cell phone, your iPod, and your laptop are stolen from your car and you sob like a baby, not because you’ve just lost almost $2,000 worth of stuff, but because you knew that the only version of your middle grade novel was on that laptop. And now it’s gone. Like I said, not a very funny joke, huh?

Knowing that I’d just lost my novel, I started wailing and heaving and hyperventilating…so I figured it was a good time to call my husband. It took him a while to calm me down and figure out what had happened. Once he realized no one was hurt and the house hadn’t burned down, he almost thought it was cute—that I would be THAT upset about losing my work. But I didn’t find it very cute. I was devastated.

I sniffled through the rest of my day at work, and nodded my head when well-meaning people would say things like, “Well, maybe it will be better the second time you write it.” Thankfully, Jay and Eve said things like, “Dude, that totally sucks.” (They get me.)

Now, just in case my agent is reading this and starting to hyperventilate as well, I must say that this story has a happy ending. First, our insurance is going to cover most of the cost of replacing the items. And second, I found a flash card in a drawer and prayed that I had been responsible and saved my work the last time I worked on it. And my prayers were answered! I had saved the entire thing! Woohoo!

So I think I learned a few things this week…
1. Always save your work to a flash card.
2. You should probably save your work to another hard drive as well.
3. Go ahead and save your work to a disk, too, just to be safe.
4. Why don’t you just hold your laptop wherever you go and never let it out of your sight.
5. And learn to tell a funny joke, would ya!?

--Robin

Count Backwards from 10 -- Jay

On Monday, my wife gave blood. She does stuff like this because she likes to do good things for other people (and because it was Give-a-Pint-Get-a-Pint-of-Ice-Cream Day). I don’t do stuff like this simply because I hate needles. I hate ’em! I hate anything that…I don’t know…tears through my flesh. But on Wednesday morning I’m going in for my first-ever surgery. It’s relatively minor. I’m just getting sliced and diced to fix a hernia. No biggie. I’m fine. No really, I’m fine!

So I filled pre-op Tuesday with some cool activities to keep my mind distracted (which is a very easy thing to do).

First, I spoke to two Creative Writing classes at my old high school. In each class, I did something I’d never done at a school visit before, but I think I’ll make it a regular part of future presentations. Instead of reading the intro to Thirteen Reasons Why, I started a little further into the book…which required a second reader. So one student from each class read Hannah’s lines while I read Clay’s. The reason I never did that before is because people naturally interpret words differently, and I was afraid of hearing my words interpreted in a different way than I intended. But that’s what made it so fun! So thank you, Nicole and Kacia. Those readings were the highlights of my visit (even if Robin thought I sounded like Napoleon Dynamite while reading one of my lines -- What? No!).

Then my wife and I went back into the recording studio. First, we recorded some promotional stuff for Penguin (including, this time, having my wife read Hannah’s part). Then I recorded the final guitar parts for two of her songs. There’s this one little 11-note riff in What About Me which has always given me problems and took me about fifty takes to get it right. But it’s the funkiest and most difficult riff in all of her songs…and now it’s done. Woo-hoo!

Now I’m writing this blog post after midnight because I can’t relax enough to go to sleep. Robin, to her credit, offered to write today’s post because my day was so full. But I told her not to worry…because I knew I’d need this final distraction at the end of the day. And I was right.

Well, I love you all. I’ve loved writing these little blog posts for ya over these past two years. And I’m sure I’ll write some more. After all, it’s just a hernia. It’s a very common procedure. My wife’s boss is actually performing the surgery, and he’s a really nice guy. Steady hands. Very calm. And he knows that if he messes up…even a little bit…I’m gonna blog about it!

- Jay

Pain and Suffering -- Eve

Okay, I’ll admit it. I totally watched an entire episode of Moment of Truth. So. Completely. Embarrassed. The mortification factor of this show is so off the charts, I’m puzzled by how it got picked up for prime time in the first place. More puzzling is how I was able to watch an entire episode and keep my dinner down. If you aren’t familiar with this monstrosity of a reality show, let me briefly sum up. Seemingly normal people sit in what looks like a normal chair on a stage, while their loved ones sit on the side and watch as a cheesy host dude fires yes or no questions at them. Wait, that’s not all. After the contestant answers yes or no to a question, a bizarre robot-lady voice announces to the crowd if their answer is true or false. So, I guess that chair they sit in is some sort of lie detector seat that can read…well, I’m not sure what the heck it reads. Easy, right?

Wrong!

The questions are sick and twisted and become more personal and uncomfortable as they go on. One waiter guy was asked if he ever overcharged patrons to receive a better tip. Yes, he had. An underwear model was asked if he had ever “stuffed his shorts for a photo shoot.” He said “No.” The robot-lady lie detector seat said otherwise. But it’s when the overly spray-tanned, oddly orange-hued host asked things like, “Do you secretly hate your mother-in-law?” while said mother-in-law sat six feet away with mouth opened wide, that I started to get seriously creeped out.

The same guy was asked, “Do you make racist jokes about your wife and her family behind their backs?” Answer: Yes. Ouch! Another guy was asked something like, “Are you hesitating to have children with your wife because you don’t love her anymore?” What?? This is a TV show? For entertainment purposes? When that last dude turned red, puffed out his cheeks, then looked toward the heavens for salvation, I knew that life as he knew it was over (so did his very angry looking wife!) and I was going to hurl.

I’ve been obsessing over what the merits of this show could possibly be, when last night it hit me. People love to watch other people suffer. What does every good story have going for it? Conflict. What do we do to our beloved characters? Chase them up trees and toss rocks at them. What does every main character in a novel or movie have to overcome? A problem. What do we writers do to a story to make it better? Ratchet up the pain factor. Up the stakes. Create a situation where all hope is lost.

But what is it about other peoples’ pain that is so appealing to us? Do we feel for them because we’ve been there, and we like the whole misery-loves-company thing? Or are we inspired by them conquering problems and winning the battle? Or is the answer more disturbing than that? Maybe humans are sick and twisted and just really get a kick out of watching people fall apart. Why else would images of poor Britney Spears be tossed at us hourly? Somebody must be entertained by this stuff. But why?

I’m not suggesting that everybody on the planet enjoys watching people suffer. I’m just raising the question for discussion. Wondering what all you readers out there think. Could a story be entertaining if nothing bad happened to the main character? Or does it just make for a really boring story?

- Eve

Finding Discoland #7

“Seek and ye shall find…something TOTALLY different than what you were looking for.”

Such is the case for those who typed the following words into search engines and discovered us. The Disco Mermaids!

- teen curse words -
($#%@ is still the biggie, but ^&#*@&^* hasn't been used since 1987)

- funny rhymes asking to homecoming -
(wanna go to the dance? i'll wear my cleanest underpants!)

- sneezed on the SAT scantron -
(yet somehow, still got accepted to Yale)

- they're not dumb they're just different -
(um...thanks?)

Kiss 'n' Blog -- Robin

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! At first, I thought I’d take this day to tell the important people in my life—my family, my friends, and my future president—that I love them.

But instead, I decided to say Happy Valentine’s Day to the ones who got it all started…my first loves. Since I’ve been working on my young adult novel lately, my mind has been wrapped around the feelings that come with the intensity of first love. So yes, I’m going to share with you the boys in my junior high and high school that made my heart pitter-patter, caused me to doodle their initials on every notebook I owned, made my stomach churn, and forced me to seek medical attention due to extreme love sickness.

This is a special Happy Valentine to four very special boys…

First up is Mike. My first boyfriend. I was a senior in high school before I had my first real boyfriend, but he made it worth the wait. Mike was the kind of guy that all the guys thought was the coolest. All the girls thought he was adorable. And my mother? She practically adopted him. He was hilarious, sweet, and he loved me dearly. It was the best first-boyfriend-experience I could’ve ever hoped for.

Next up is Euel. My biggest crush. He wore tight jeans, the tightest in the school. He was tall. Blue eyes. Gorgeous thick, black hair. In tenth grade, I studied his class schedule, then altered my route between classes so I would pass him exactly four times a day. If I rushed through my lunch and ran up to the main lobby quick enough, I’d see him five times. And every time we’d pass each other, he’d say, “Hey, Robin.” That was all he said. But it made my heart melt. The following year he was killed in a car crash, and I was devastated. It took me a long time before I could walk those halls and not cry when I’d pass the exact spots I’d seen him every single day.

Next is Bryan. The hottest guy I ever kissed. (Well, second to my husband.) Bryan was beautiful. He was so beautiful…so hot…so perfect, that I never even considered him as a possible crush. He was way out of my league. But one night at a huge party, he grabbed me and kissed me in front of a zillion people as they watched. Now, it’s not like me to do such cheesy things. I think he kissed me on a dare, but I didn’t care one bit. It didn’t matter who was watching…this was Freakin’ Hottie McHottie Bryan…and he was kissing me, baby! Aaaahhh…one of the best nights of my life.

And finally, Billy. My first kiss. Ironically, my first kiss happened on Valentine’s Day, 1983. A bunch of kids from my neighborhood gathered in my friend, Nancy’s, basement and we decided to pair off and have a make-out session in the dark. But we had to hurry…her mom would be home from work soon. Billy tasted like candy hearts and I remember wondering if he’d eaten the “I love you” heart or the “Friends” heart. Based on that kiss, I think he ate the former. Wow! He really went for it! His kiss was so…intrusive. Did anyone else find their first kiss to feel like that? Not shocking, but a bit unexpected. Billy and I never talked about that kiss again. Well, except for the last day of high school when everyone was signing yearbooks. Billy wrote in mine, “Have fun. Don’t forget the time in Nancy’s basement.” And clearly, Billy, I haven’t forgotten it one bit.

Happy Valentine’s Day to my first loves. Thank you.

- Robin

Hey, Hey, I Wanna be a Rock Star -- Jay

I’ve found my release!

For the past several months, I’ve been seeking a new hobby to occasionally distract myself from thinking about books. I have a habit of getting a tad obsessive, whether it’s about writing a new book or promoting my last book. And while that obsessive quality can be good, it also makes my brain feel like it’s been tossed into a blender at Jamba Juice. (Anyone for a Jay Jubilee with a wheatgrass shot and an Immunity Boost?)

Problem was, I only considered hobbies I could do by myself. But when I tried those, my mind never fully focused on that new hobby.

Solution? A group hobby!

As you may remember, last week my wife and I headed into a studio to begin recording a dozen of her original songs. And for three-and-a-half hours, my mind never wandered from that studio.

It was awesome!

It was the first time since high school that I played guitar with a live drummer. The energy created by a living, breathing, pulse-pounding metronome is un-frickin’-believable. On that first night, we recorded drum tracks to four of my wife’s songs: Stranger, In This World, Sunshine, and What About Me?

The drummer played in a soundproof room all by himself, communicating with us through microphones and a large window. In our room was the sound engineer, my wife, and me. My wife played her dumbek (a handheld drum) and sang, while I played the guitar. The drummer could’ve recorded his tracks without us, but you get a much more powerful and emotional sound when musicians feed off each other.

In fact, it’s a lot like writing. Anyone can write alone, but when you…

Wait! Does anyone else hear the whir of a high-speed blender?

Okay, back to the music…

Solo

Duo

Drumroll (through the window)
** two points if you can spot a copy of Thirteen Reasons Why **

- Jay

Pride and Pokiness -- Robin

I have to take a moment to publicly thank Jay and Eve for dropping everything this past week to help me meet a deadline. I needed to get the first three chapters and a synopsis of my YA novel to my agent by Friday. And for me, just the thought of writing a synopsis makes me break out in hives, so I was desperate.

They came through for me more than I could have imagined. And we even had time to go out to dinner. Thanks, you guys. You make me proud. –sniff-

On Friday morning, I turned in my chapters and synopsis, turned off my computer, and decided I would take care of myself. Since I’d been suffering from excessive-revising-nerve-impingement-disorder (also known as pain-in-the-neck), I went to get some acupuncture.

Let me start by telling you that I’ve never had acupuncture before. The poking didn’t hurt (except for a couple that felt like eyebrow plucks) and I didn’t even mind the flame-filled glass suction cups she put on afterwards...which is just plain weird.

But afterwards, I had a reaction that I’m told is rare. It was as if the needles sent a message to my brain to block the pain, and suddenly I felt like I was on a heavy dose of vicodin. (I only know what that feels like because I had all my wisdom teeth pulled. Promise!) Not realizing I was going to have this reaction, I scheduled a lunch date with Jay for right after the acupuncture.

We were to meet downtown and walk to a restaurant. When he was just a couple of blocks away, he called me on his cell phone. “I can see you!” He waved at me, not knowing the shape I was in. “Go ahead and cross the street. The light’s green.”

“I…can’t…”
“No, it’s green, it’s safe. You can cross the street.”
“But…I…can’t…”
“Robin, just cross the street! What’s wrong?”
“I…can’t…think…straight.”

I finally figured out how to cross the street, explained to him what happened, and asked him to do all the talking at lunch since I was in no shape to carry on a conversation. “Nope,” he said. “This is going to be fun.”

So most of lunch was spent with me asking if my shoes were untied and if there were spiders crawling up my back.

But I’m back to my usual self now and it’s back to writing! I made an acupuncture appointment for next Friday, but I think I’ll skip the lunch date.

- Robin

Once Upon a Time... -- Eve

If only it were this easy to begin a novel. My YA work-in-progress love story has been a blast to work on. I love the characters and actually have dialogue running through my head quite often. The setting is beautiful, the research has been stimulating, and the plot twists have been as exciting to write as if they were happening to me.

The lovely and talented Laini Taylor describes the process of writing a novel so articulately on her blog, Not For Robots. I would advise anyone out there who is writing a novel, is thinking of writing a novel, or even those who believe novel writing to be an easy job…those who picture us lounging around coffee houses all day, philosophizing about life, love, and loss, effortlessly cranking out masterful prose in between smoke breaks…to visit Laini’s site to get a real taste for how complicated novel writing is.

What rang so true with me is Laini’s idea of The Snick, which she describes as “the sound and feeling of a puzzle piece fitting into place.” So true! It’s the most satisfying part of writing, that elusive Snick. It can’t be forced. It has to slide easily and feel right. In my insomnia haze the other night I took her puzzle-metaphor further and compared writing to having an enormous, small-pieced puzzle spread out in front of you. Oh, but the thousands of pieces are scattered about the table and they're all white. And what you have to do is paint an idea or feeling or spot of dialogue onto one piece, then find the pieces that fit around it (mind you they’re all white), and paint those pieces. In the end, the entire puzzle has to create one large picture, with no gaps or unbelievable images, like a horse with wombat feet or something (that’s just wrong). The big picture has to make sense and everyone staring at it has to go, “Oh! I totally get it. That’s so clever.”

Which brings me to this: I’m on a serious roll with my feelings and images and Snicks and all the rest, but, I can’t seem to figure out how to begin the bloody thing. Agent Nathan Bransford had a wonderful “Surprisingly Essential First Page Contest” where he dissected what goes into an extraordinary first page of a novel, which I found very informative. However, creating a tone, a memorable entrance for the main character, suggestion of the main problem, appealing setting, and hooks that are intriguing, but don’t hit you over the head with over-the-top-ness is easier said than done.

Where to start? Where to start? Action? Dialogue? A question? Setting description? A thought in the MC’s head? It’s the strangest feeling to be so close to this novel, yet so completely unaware of where the real story begins. Once upon a time…? It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…? It was a dark and stormy night…? Help!

- Eve

Super Tuesday (and Monday) -- Jay

Today is Super Tuesday, so it’s time for many of us to vote. I’m not gonna tell you who I’m voting for because I love you and I don’t wanna get into an argument (which I would win, by the way). So go vote! Not only is it important…it’s fun, too.

But it’s also Super Duper Tuesday. Why? Because it’s the beginning of a dream-come-true for my wife. This evening, we’re going into a studio to start recording a bunch of her songs. You might be familiar with her slow song, Soul Alone, which appears at the end of the Thirteen Reasons Why audiobook. But the songs we’ll be recording over the next however-long-it-takes will be a little faster, a little funkier, and include me on guitar. Woo-hoo! I'm sure I’ll be reporting our progress in future posts, and eventually we’ll sell the C.D.s on my MySpace page. So stay tuned…

And in case you weren’t aware, yesterday happened to be Super Monday. I was down in L.A. for a full day’s worth of presentations. It began at Franklin High in Los Angeles, where I gave two presentations to about 60 students. The students were awesome (as usual)…and so were their teachers. Then I went to Gabrielino High in San Gabriel, where I spoke in the library to about 100 students from several classes, including Peer Helpers (student counselors), which was something I was involved in back in the day. My favorite part? When a student (who stayed up till 4:30 in the morning to finish the book) showed me her journal, in which she’d copied a handful of her favorite passages from my book. Amazing!

But did the day end there? Oh no!

Then I spoke at Vroman’s…that awesome indie bookstore in Pasadena. It was a bigger turnout than I’d expected (and not just because my grandma, aunt, and uncle were there). It was my first time speaking to a group where the majority of people had already read my book, which added a cool dimension to the presentation. And the Q&A was a ton of fun. It even got a little silly when someone asked me to describe some of my earlier books. It became obvious, very quickly, why those books never sold.

In fact, I was having so much fun throughout the day that I forgot to take pictures till the very end. The only one I snapped was when the people at Vroman’s began lining up for autographs. (Have I ever told you how much I love scribbling my name in books?)


- Jay

They Call Me Reflector-Girl -- Robin

My husband and I have agreed it’s time to diversify. Not just our stocks and bonds or our selection in pizza toppings (especially since I don’t eat pizza anymore).

Hubby has decided to expand his photojournalism skills into the world of wedding photography. Which means he’s going to need an assistant. Which means…me!

My job will be to hold the huge reflector that bounces that beautiful natural light right into the bride and groom’s eyes. My job will also be to remind him not to stand on the bride’s dress and to please, please, take pictures of the cake and flowers...cuz brides love that stuff. Other than that, the rest is up to him.

Which is a good thing for these newlyweds, because he is awesome at what he does…

If you’re interested in photojournalism or weddings (or pictures of my kid) check out his new website:

www.jaysonmellom.com

Meanwhile, I’m going to work on my reflector-holding skills...which I’ve heard is good for those stubborn flabby underarm parts. Yeah for me! Reflector-Girl is on the job!

- Robin