Hallmark Channel 2015 TCA Winter Party Starring Jack Wagner…

January 23, 2015 by Sara Crummett

This month I had an amazing opportunity to go to the Gold Crown TCA Winter Party in Pasadena, California. For those of you that may not know what this is (until recently that included me) it’s a giant press party for the Hallmark Channel to introduce upcoming movies and new serials. For those of you that may not know that I am a huge Hallmark Channel fan, oh I am (I AM!). You’re up to speed so let’s move forward.

The glamorous event was held at the Tournament of Roses House and was nothing short of magical. Intricate chandeliers dangled from a princessy billowy ceiling casting a soft, romantic light under which everyone appeared lightly airbrushed. Perennial favorites looking younger than their biological ages roamed red carpets, flashed brilliant smiles and got cozy with the press. I was there with one of the announcers of The Kitten Bowl (a major star) (it’s my blog) (she would kill me for that) (I think she’s a huge deal) which will air on Super Bowl Sunday, so tune in for adorable antics by clueless felines (end of shameless plug). And now a story about my brush with Jack Wagner. *drumroll*

I saw him from across a crowded room… Seriously, I did see him standing across a very crowded room. Frisco was wedged somewhere between Felicia and Uncle Jessie’s wife, not far from the former JAG chick turned Hallmark Good Witch (and yes, she’s truly a supermodel looking thing unaided by any purchasable helps). When we passed by him he introduced himself to my partner in crime (the major star) at which point my mouth foolishly fell open and I said, “You’re Jack Wagner?!” This Robert Redfordy-looking hot stuff appeared at least ten years younger than me when a Wikipedia search says the opposite is true.

There is no spectacular ending to this story as I am spoken for (see major star) (ahem) (and he was with his wife, but let’s move on), but it’s important you know that Frisco Jones is far better than a romantic television character and perfectly suited to the Hallmarkian crowd. Holy moly–he had charm to spare. He certainly tolerated this girl, even when I stole his dinner place card. I had to. I’m not proud but I wanted to blog about it (this is the blog) (also I was too nervous to get his picture, so this insert will have to do).

As I looked around that crowd of gorgeous faces, I felt very much at home because these were folks who played the characters I’d grown up with. Whether it was Full House, Seventh Heaven—you name it, you must admit it was a kinder, gentler time in television history. In this day of Real Housewives of (name a city, it really doesn’t matter), there is still one network where happy endings are possible, in fact, they are guaranteed. The Hallmark Channel is a network positively chock-full of messages about doing the right thing and listening to your heart. Nestled in the heart of this happy group, I realized that each could be anywhere they wanted, and they wanted to be at this warm, cozy network. At that moment I knew I could, and should, follow my own heartbeat. I made the decision to go my own way, write with my own ink from here in, not be ashamed of showing my appreciation for real love, loving families and hope. Yes, I confess that I have so much hope. It was….liberating. It made me feel better than Jack (Frisco) Wagner’s smile.

So with that I announce that new things are on the horizon. I’m working on some projects that I believe you will like. So…hang around. 😀

November Musings…

November 7, 2014 by Sara Crummett

My Grandma Bea (we called her Gran) was pretty darn magical. She was a resilient, sassy dame raising two daughters on her own. Instead of worrying over infrequent bouts of child support, she pinned her hair back in a scarf, pulled gloves over those perfect nails and went to work at Morrell’s meatpacking plant. When the plant closed, she refused a transfer so that she could stay near her family. Without missing a beat (she never did) she took work at a little grocery store, close enough to walk, and full of enough candy to always have a respectable stash of Sixlets and Willy Wonkas on hand for her many kid-guests.

She dressed beautifully, got her hair “set” and wore red lipstick; she was glamorous in an I Love Lucy sort of way. She was a social butterfly and a delight to her friends, family, and everyone that knew her. Because she lived in an apartment on the top floor of our house, I was a regular at her frequent gatherings. I helped serve drinks and snacks and listened to bad jokes and old stories in her laughter filled home. She taught me how to make a pin curl, a red beer, a pot roast, and a glorious bow for a package.

I think of her most often in the month of November. Her birthday was the 11^th, my aunt’s the 22^nd, and my mom’s the 24^th. Thanksgiving also meant a celebration of the Birthday Girls. The gifts were always Christmas decorations, something fancy and frivolous; something that they would not buy for themselves. For this reason, all three homes were decorated in pretty spectacular fashion each year. This was a season of absolute delight for us kids. As we got older, the exchange became heavily infused with Charlie Brown Christmas-anything.

After my grandmother got sick life got a little sadder for us all. Her death was an event I never quite got over. As loved as she was, it sure made it tough to enter into the next few Thanksgiving seasons. Thankfully, we are a stubborn bunch with our love for the holidays and each other.

The best gift Gran ever gave me was a belief that I was her favorite grandchild. I later found out that my sister thought the same thing. So did my cousin John. And Tish and Becky and Susan and Joey. To me, it seemed like perfect grandparenting in a funny, difficult world.

I write this blog with Vince Guaraldi’s “Christmastime is Here” playing in the background. I’m warmed by the memory of an amazing grandmother and a lovely, funny aunt. My mom and I still decorate like crazy ladies and we have thoroughly instilled our brand of holiday love in my children. By November 11, a date that would have marked Gran’s 92^nd birthday, my kids and I will have decorated this house until the place is lit up brighter than the Empire State Building. People may wonder why we do this so early, and perhaps they will blame commercialism or possibly greed. They will be wrong. It’s just me, sharing with my kids a love for a grandmother they never met. This is how we celebrate the love we are lucky enough to have around us right now, and this is how I hope they will one day celebrate the memory of their own Christmassy, nutty mother.

(NOTE: The kids sometimes tell me that day could come sooner than planned if I don’t stop scaling rooftops to hang garland on weathervanes. Wish me luck.)

Lambda Literary‘s Anna Furtado called Mina Borsalino Flips Out a sweet holiday read. Pick up your copy today at Amazon.com.

A Valentine to October

October 28, 2014 by Sara Crummett

Squirm through early dinner, hurry to get dressed, costumes over bulky coats…

Burst out the front door, skipping along leafy sidewalks…

Wearing old bed sheets with mismatched cutout eye-holes…

Little sister can’t keep up, my friends wander off…

BB-Bats and Pixie Stix bouncing inside plastic pumpkins…

Of course mine is the best costume–proven by the 50-cent prize awarded in school that day…

And there’s Dad, hiding in bushes to make sure we are safe while taking candy from strangers.

(These days, someone would call the police!)

Oh boy, do I love October.

If you love a thriller romance, check out my latest book Click, now available for pre-sale at Amazon.com. Happy Halloween, ya’ll. -Sara

I love Patricia Cornwell (An Essay Featuring Parentheses)

October 24, 2014 by Sara Crummett

“It was raining in Virginia on Friday, June 6…”

And with those words, I was hooked on Scarpetta. The year was 1990, and I was a freshly minted Patricia Cornwell fan. She had me at the jump with Postmortem, a book that showcased her incredible eye for detail and introduced readers everywhere to the human monster.

Throughout the 90s, her compelling, often chilling works readied the world for an explosion of a CSI-type television shows. To the casual reader she bequeathed a postmortem and police procedural vernacular that had folks bandying sophisticated—albeit ghastly—terminology around the water cooler with expert finesse.

As for the struggling writers, well, I for one always had a twenty-spot squirreled away for the next Scarpetta release. Reading Cornwell’s material was the best writing class I never took. Novice writers quickly learned the value of researching the living hell out of everything. If Scarpetta was slated to fly to the Interpol headquarters in France (Black Notice) Cornwell did it first. If Scarpetta whipped up a marinara (Natural Exposure), she proved she was good for the recipe (Food to Die For). The lady knows what she writes.

Aside from her obvious talents, Patricia Cornwell exceeds the human standard by generously donating to multiple foundations for which she has great passion. She regularly fortifies forensic departments and writing programs, and at a recent athletic fundraiser she donated her newest book to the rumored tune of $100K. Whatta woman.

I met her at this year’s Billie Jean King and Friends Cal State event. Already a lifelong fan of her mad creative skills, I was further dazzled by her utter goodness. The world’s number one mystery writer was kind enough to (throw me a bone and) ask about my writing. Then in an ace-move, she gave me a shout-out on Twitter. (I know, right?)

At these types of events, I meet some pretty upper echelon level talents. It is a delight to discover than an individual is even better than the hype that surrounds her (*cough* Billie Jean). I turn into a world-class name-dropper when I catch someone on his best behavior (*cough* Usher). And nothing is cooler than seeing goodness and hard work rewarded with success because it just makes sense.

It makes sense, Ms. Cornwell.

(I tweeted her right back!)