Mug of Woe at Buffalo Small Press Book Fair!

Hello Woe fans!  The Mug of Woe book series will be at the Buffalo Small Press Book Fair, April 6-7! More news as the festival approaches! 

Woeful Spotlight: Renata Roskopf

In Mug of Woe: Wreck the Halls, Renata Roskopf proves that some holiday memories linger in your heart, your mind, and on an egg-stained door.  

Your essay is about a Halloween that "lingered." Tell us about another memorable holiday. 

Rather than a holiday, I’ll tell you about my brother's earliest birthday I remember. Of course, a tangible photo album helped answer this one. Remember those heavy things that sit on your lap? No Santa, not kids! Anyhow, in the photo, my brother, a year older, whose birthday is a month earlier than mine, is smiling that gigantic smile kids have when they're surprised. His smile’s so wide in fact, you’d wonder how such a small face can contain all those teeth and outstretched lip, while maintaining angelic countenance. He is a smile, beneath wisps of blond and two blue eyes, while floating atop a pair of plaid pants. I, on the other hand, am leaning into the table, that is not only supporting me but also a cake, goodies and decorations. I am plastic-made curls and a face, red as some of the decorations. Apparently, I had been crying as if every boogey-monster haunting Halloween, paid me a personal visit. In fact, I was too young to have fully realized that our birthdays, although close, were separate occasions. I vaguely remembered the prior year, when I got presents, so this might have thrown me for a loop. Maybe, I didn’t understand the concept, after all, I was only into this life thing for couple years yet.  

I remember my father leaving and returning with an inexpensive red and yellow plastic robot that I removed from cardboard backing. When you pressed a button, it shot spirals off of its chest. It apparently also cured a case of I’m-a-toddler-and-it’s-another-toddler’s-birthday-woes. That’s when I learned that robots can be lovable, if you treat them with care. And flinging things? Good for the soul. 

Tell us about another prank you played or one that was played on you. 

Here, I will change names, other than my own.

When I was about 9, I played with two sisters who were older than me. One was always trying to sing like Madonna. She claimed she looked like Madonna. She was Brunette. Most would agree, she sounded a bit nasally, but she was pretty and womanly looking for all of her 11 years. She even snatched her mother’s brown eyeliner to draw a mole above her lip on occasion. For the purposes of our street, she was Madonna.(In case there is any confusion up to this point, I mean the singer, of course.) We jumped rope and played kickball but “Madonna” usually wanted to rope both me and her older sister, Chrissa, into informal beauty pageants.  

One day, I gave in. Her brother, Paul (again, this is a pseudonym to spare his I-don’t-know-what), for lack of a swarm of participants, was judging. I had no make-up, unless I sneaked my mom’s ancient expired makeup, or used water or even, ewww saliva, to moisten the colored powder that came with my Barbie doll head to get ready. (These were the almost life-sized heads you could practice hair and make-up on. Barbie is her real name.)This was tougher than I thought. Chrissa offered to do my make-up if I brought what I had down. Yippee I thought. Needless to say, in a few short minutes, I lost the beauty contest, despite Paul's dysfunctional crush, slash desire to put things from the street into my mouth. He once almost burned the back staircase down.I can laugh about this little prank now. When I went upstairs, I had green cheeks and red shadows on my eye lids. Almost dripping in the summer heat, the colors knew no bounds. Hot. 

If Hollywood was to make a movie about your life, what would it be titled?  

This is a tough question. Maybe my name, it's not too common and as a bonus, it might help save spelling time with telemarketers.  

Promote yourself. Where can our readers find more of your work?  

My poetry can be found in “The Boston Poet” and “The Watermark,” the UMass literary Magazine volumes 1994– 1997. As early as 1991, I participated in The Boston Public Schools, High School Zone Writer’s Conference held at The Boston Globe.In 2011, I participated in the Cambridge Poet Populist Poetry Festival and have also read at La Luna Café and Out of the Blue in Cambridge, MA. Two years ago, I helped a team of wonderful people write and put together a short film while learning a lot in the process through RIFC.  

Other than that, I’ve drafted countless legal documents, devoid of as much humor as possible. If people sneak into my room, they will find countless pages of works in progress.

Woeful Spotlight: Christopher Griffin

If you had any delusions that Norman Rockwell was right about the good ol' fashioned family holidays, Christopher Griffin's essay in Mug of Woe: Wreck the Halls will knock that foolish notion out of your head. 

One of your Woe stories is about life-changing announcements at the holiday dinner table. Will you be making any announcements at the Christmas table this year?

You know, I was really hoping that the whole "end of the world" prophecy would have finally come true after so many misleads in recent years. At least, this time, it would save me from having to attend the annual family holiday gathering. Maybe I'll bring whatever girlfriend-of-the-week I'm seeing and faux-propose to her on site, or maybe my ego will get the best of me and I'll just constantly remind any and everyone who cares to listen that I'm a published comedy writer and they should be grateful that I'm even gracing them with my presence. Regardless, as with all things, I'll probably just wait until the last possible second and then flip a coin. That's completely rational, right? 

You claim you have the unenviable role of 20-something serial dater. Tell us about one of your worst blind dates.

I've never been on a true "blind" date before. A couple of months ago, though, I was at a concert with a friend of mine and ran into a girl who I had been courting for the better part of the year. She and I had gone on three or four pretty good dates but for whatever reason, those dates would be spread out by weeks, and sometimes months, and they would often occur after we would randomly run into each other at a bar while one of us were out with friends and the other was on a date. Anyway, so I run into this girl at a concert I'm at, and it's funny the way it happened, because I saw her approach the bar without realizing who it was, and I interrupt my friend while she's in the middle of telling me about a guy she met.

"Hold that thought. The girl who just ordered drinks at the bar is totally my type and I want to meet her." 

So I approach her and try to play it casual, as if I'm there for a drink and not to meet her. We both turn to each other and make eye contact at the same time, and of course it's this girl who I had gone on several dates without ever officially "dating." As if to abide by the same script we've gone over for months when we run into each other in the most random of places, she tells me that the reason I hadn't heard from her was because she had gotten back together with her ex-boyfriend. We hug, share a kiss for old time's sake, and part ways. As if my life hadn't found contentment enough in reminding me, time and again, that it's a caricature of itself, I pass her by as I'm walking to the men's room during the headlining band's set, and she's laughing it up with a girl who I hooked up with months prior. Regardless, my Twitter account the next day was rather entertaining, as I was getting harassing messages from a girl who I didn't know, never saw before, and never met, telling me what an awful person I was for my affiliation with the two of them and suggesting that I shouldn't have been at the concert. I guess that's the closest thing I've got, in terms of worst experiences that shine a light on why my dating life is so unenviable. For more stories of my dating experiences, ones that involve actual dates, with women who wish they were reality TV stars and have openly admit to having dated me because I looked "just like their ex", The Woes of Dating releases in the spring of 2013. I'm not even sure that's what the eventual title will be, but I think it has a nice ring to it, so I'm pitching it. Woes of Dating. Spring of 2013. It's coming. 

If Hollywood was to make a movie about your life, what would it be titled? 

Self Made because everything I am, and all that I've accomplished (as little as that may be), is the result of my drive, my ambition, and my refusal to listen to the "logic" of family and friends. I believe that fate comes down to the hand that we're dealt in life, and I just hope I'm blessed to live long enough to be dealt that ever-elusive winning hand. It's coming. I know it is. 

What other writing projects are you working on right now?

I have a couple of notebooks which are full of concepts and ideas for sitcoms and screenplays. I'm currently trying to figure out how to effectively work on a screenplay while juggling two completely separate jobs in the workplace. It's not easy. In fact, can we find someone interested in making a faux-documentary that would be interested in filming my latest idea? It's tentatively titled "How to Effectively Work on a Screenplay While Juggling Two Completely Separate Jobs in the Workplace." No. I'm hoping to have a first draft of a screenplay (a rom-com, naturally) completed by Christmas. In 2013? I'd like to try my hand at a web-series. I have a few ideas for those, one of which may or may not involve decking small children out in zombie makeup and having them run amok. I think that is a proverbial gold mine.

Woeful Spotlight: Robyn Renee Riley

In  Mug of Woe: Wreck the Halls Robyn Renee Riley explains why it's better to just keep those festive holiday greetings to yourself.

Your Woe essay is about an unfortunate Christmas card debacle. What was your strategy for Christmas cards this year? 

My strategy about Christmas cards this year was  to avoid them altogether. It has been a terrible year with the teenagers in this house. There are some things you cannot put into a Christmas letter. They would be more appropriate in a suicide note.

 

You like to write about your adventures of being a modern-day Pastor's wife. Tell us one of your favorite stories about the Pastor.

 

You have to understand the Pastor is a smart guy. He has three master's degrees and a Ph.D. Unfortunately none of his advanced coursework had anything to do with relationships. When we were dating - and serious - he invited some friends I had not met over to his house for dinner. I agreed to cook and prepared a lavish meal. When the couple walked in the door, the Pastor said, "This is my girlfriend, April." I have no idea where that came from. He to this day (yes we still talk about it) claims he has no idea where "April" came from. My first words to this couple were "Actually, my name is Robyn." DInner went as well as you might expect.

 

If Crayola was to name a crayon after you, what would it be called? 

 

I wouldn't care what color Crayola used or what they might call a crayon representing me, but my crayon could only be used to color precisely within the lines. Someone has a little OCD. In fact, let's leave that crayon in the box altogether. We'll just open it ever once in a while to look at the perfect, new rainbow of crayons. And maybe smell them.

 

Promote yourself. Where can our readers find more of your work? 

 

I've written a book about the Pastor - we'll see what happens! You can find me on Twitter and Facebook at robynreneeriley. I've had a blog for years, imarriedthepastor.blogspot.com. I promise I'll be better at posting on it - I blame the teenagers. Do you have any idea how many times I have been interrupted just trying to write these four things? Sheez! 2013 is going to be a great year. The kind of year people write Christmas letters about.

Woeful Spotlight: Bill Thorndike

Bill's story in Mug of Woe: Wreck the Halls reminds us all of the occupational hazards of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree.

Your Woe story is about an unfortunate altercation with a Christmas tree. Have you had any other memorable altercations with holiday decorations?

Not an altercation, but when I was a teenager I became a Christmas decoration. I was in a church choir that climbed up into 60-foot A-frame decked with lights and evergreen boughs. We became the “singing Christmas tree.” We all wore little elf hats. It was pretty cool.

You are a former newspaper reporter. Tell us about a memorable encounter you had when chasing down a story.

Once I interviewed a boy who became a local hero when he escaped from an upstairs window of his burning house and woke a neighbor. The neighbor called the fire department and the boy’s family was saved. This was in 1982. At the time I remember walking through the house and taking pictures of its charred interior. A few years later I bought the house. I’m still living in it. 

If an extra-terrestrial landed on your front porch, what three questions would you ask it? 

First of all, this seems to happen all the time, although they usually show up in pairs. I might think of a number and ask it to tell me what number I am thinking. That would be fun. I would probably ask if it was lost, or if it actually intended to land on my porch. I’d ask if it could use some company on the return trip. Not me, necessarily, but I’m sure someone I know would be up for a ride.

What other writing projects are you working on right now?

I am planning my Christmas blog as we speak. It will be about starting over at the back of the line, which has become something of a theme with me. Otherwise, I occasionally think about working on my novel. As I mentioned in my last Woe profile, it will explain everything.

Woeful Spotlight: Jennifer Worick

 

Jennifer Worick's story in Mug of Woe: Wreck of Halls chronicles her misadventures with the elusive New Year's Eve kiss. After reaading her ordeal, you'll find us at the stroke of midnight cuddled up withThe Twilight Zone marathon. 

You don't seem to have good luck on New Year's Eve. Can you tell us about another unfortunate encounter on this holiday?

Where do I start?

I've sketched them all out here. If I had to narrow it down to one atrosh evening (aside from the NYE and the sexually confused boyfriend I wrote about), I'd have to go with the night I fell on the escalator in the Ren Cen in Detroit. In trying to go up a down escalator, in heels no less, I fell as I neared the top, hitting my knee on the edge of the jagged step. I folded like a poker player with no hand and as I drifted back down to the ground floor, I noticed my knee was white. I had sliced it open to the patella. I wound up in one of the worst ERs in the country, getting stitched up by a cute doctor while surrounded by abused, shot, and beaten patients. One was even chained to his gurney.

You are allowed to spend New Year's Eve with any three famous people (living or dead). Who are they, and where would you go to celebrate?

Excellent question. I guess I'd go with Cary Grant, circa The Philadelphia Story, because he looks yar in a tux and would make any occasion festive and elegant. Jane Austen, who could provide a bit of decorum and social insight to the evening (and perhaps pick out an eligible gentleman for me). Then I'd go with Tina Fey, because laughter is always better than booze and I suspect she'd hold my hair back if I did drink too much. I don't care where we went, as long as good company and great food was involved (pulled pork, I'm looking at you).

 

If Crayola named a crayon color after you, what would it be?

What's Black and White and Read All Over? A double-sided crayon, black on one side and white on the other, wrapped in red paper.

Promote yourself. Where can our readers find your work?

Named one of the four funniest bloggers in America by Reader's Digest, I am the New York Times-bestselling author of more than 25 books, including the brand-spanking-new Things I Want to Punch in the Face (available everywhere!). In addition, I'm a blogger, publishing consultant, and public speaker. You can find me in all the usual places, as well as at jenniferworick.com.

New Woe for the Holidays and CyberMonday Sale!

We are happy to announce that we have just released two new Mug of Woe books on Amazon for the holidays!

Our third book. All Woe Great and Small is a book of funny, embarrassing, and woeful animal tales that will prove once and for all that we are not the dominant species. 

And our special holiday edition, Mug of Woe: Wreck the Halls is a collection of tales of the holidays gone wrong, from unfortunate holiday gifts to capturing leprechauns on St. Patrick's Day.

Print editions are up on Amazon right now! Both Kindle versions should be up in a week.

CYBERMONDAY WOE! 

Today and tomorrow, we have cut the price of our first two award-winning Woe books, Mug of Woe and Woe of the Road from $9.49 to $8.00 and $8.50. Prices will go back up on Tuesday, so get them now!