Rich Bride Poor Bride - the Ottawa tour

My first job – Rich Bride Poor Bride – was a first in a few ways. First job for St. John Publicity & Marketing and first non-author tour. Guess it was fitting that this was a book about weddings, and, more telling, event planning. Because although the day (event) was planned perfectly, it did not happen as planned!
I arrived at the Westin at 7:30 to pick up the celebrity event planner, David Connolly. I parked my car where instructed by the porters, handed them my keys and walked in to the quiet lobby. David called almost immediately to ask me to come to his room to help with his luggage.
Signs were evident of the work recently completed (birchbark remnants on the carpet, for example). David was ironing a burgundy cloth. I finished the ironing while he packed. So, we got to my car to load the 2 massive suitcases, the large bag and – the piece de resistance – a large cylindrical vase full of birchbark chips, topped by a dozen red roses and – the real topper – a monstrous spread of tree twigs that would have filled my back seat. That is, if we had been able to get to my back seat. I needed my car key, but the porter was avoiding me, so I walked over to the door he had ducked into. I saw the two porters running through the two panels of car keys posted on a wall while digging through their respective pockets. They admitted they had misplaced my keys, but not to worry, please wait a few minutes. Well, I responded, it was a problem since my client was due for an interview and needed to be there NOW. Please make it happen. They quickly agreed; I would call when we were done and by then my keys would have been found. So we piled all David’s stuff into the Westin van (he mumbling ominously as we fitted the vase into the back seat) and made our way to CHUM. David managed to set up his display and was great with Karen Solomon. As I called the Westin, I was connected to the assistant manager, Tanesiah, who told me what they think happened – the porter must have dropped my key into the trunk of a guest's car,now enroute to Toronto. So the van returned to bring us back to the hotel and an employee was dispatched to the Nissan dealership to obtain a duplicate key (did I mention that my purse and briefcase were in the back seat?). We were asked to wait, would we like a coffee? David was appalled; that was the best they could do? He asked me questions about the schedule and we found out that he had never received the fax I had sent Sunday noon. I had called the Westin to confirm receipt, so where was it? We marched to the concierge, who found the fax and, as she handed it to David, he asked icily “This is the fax I was to receive yesterday when I checked in??”and turned on his heel without waiting for a response. And here came the Tanesiah again, so sorry, the employee was delayed arriving, please wait, would you like a coffee? David glared. Meanwhile, I was able to ensure we would receive a tape from A Channel.
I know about the security system (and you would think hotel staff would too). A duplicate key opens the door, but it does not start the car. Problem was, the staff (2 of them that I remember) kept trying to start the car, although I insisted they stop.They replied I only needed a boost. I was getting pretty pissed off but I had to focus on my client. So I told them I needed to get to the west end immediately. Tanesiah, obviously out of her depth, finally offered taxi chits. David was unhappy and moaned “Every time we move that vase, it is ruined, I spent hours getting everything just right”. God, I felt awful for him but I was determined to get things done for him. So, we loaded everything – again! – and the taxi driver had to wait for us at Loblaws as we ran in to pick up a cake, flowers, valentines cards, etc on our way to Rogers. Once there, I was in full assistant mode, doing whatever it took to get things ready for his appearance. He and TL had a lively reunion, and I had a nice surprise seeing Kelly from Big Daddy’s. David had changed into a remarkable jacket – each appearance counts in his business. So, he was finally on air, it was a great show. He and TL did some dance moves as he music started and their banter was non-stop. When she asked where he had found the branches, he said “From your front yard early this morning!”
As we waited for a taxi, we discussed what I had planned for the afternoon, and I wanted to get him something for lunch. He somewhat sheepishly asked if he could go to the airport instead. He said that, as an event planner, he had not planned sufficient time to prepare for these interviews and wished he had asked his assistant to come along. He was tired. So, we went to the airport, I got to give him a hug, he signed my book (for Karen and Dan) and off he went. I knew he was tired – we had stopped talking for 30 seconds in the taxi and he started nodding off, it was rather amazing. He was so gracious, never blew up at me for the inconvenience and insisted that Karen should call him for any help, really sweet of him.
So, I lost ½ day work, dammit, and I won’t get into the additional hours I wasted that day when I returned to the Westin, waiting for the dealership to program my one spare car key (which I had to get from home, hello taxi again). Let’s just say I was glad to get home finally, and I am supposed to get my keys on Monday (a whole week later) and then go to the dealership to have them re-programmed.
Literary publicity can be so full of surprises - and sometimes it has nothing to do with books!

Print-on-demand. Publish-a-dud

Well, I just read a book from one of these print-on-demand companies. I was supposed to write a review, obviously to promote it. Could not. It was atrocious. Nobody should publish a book that is full of spelling and grammatical errors, and those were only the obvious faults of the book. Shall I describe the banal plot, hackneyed descriptions of cardboard characters, stilted speech..you get the idea.
I will not even write the name or author here, nor the publisher. But I have learned a lesson. I will not rush to offer to review another such book.

Elizabeth & Mary

Yesterday evening was the Christmas party held by Elizabeth and Mary, my aquafit buddies and two of the nicest women I know. Guests were mostly bridge players and neighbours. I believe I was the youngest one there, not that it mattered. It was a perfect winter scene outside their picture windows, from which one could see the Ottawa River. A small rabbit hopped into view near one window and stayed there for ages, enjoying the bird food on the ground. Perfect.

After the big potluck dinner, people wandered throughout the house; some sitting and gabbing, others downstairs playing pool, and still others in the bridge room, which was where Mary’s computer was located. Mary displayed some of her computer artistry; she spends hours working with photoshop. Her latest project was building a photo display with The Night Before Christmas, to be coordinated with her reading the poem. What a fantastic idea to give to her grandchildren. She believes people should get their stories told, record their own voices recounting their memories, or even just read stories for their grandchildren. “You should do this before you are gone” she informed one elderly lady.

One well dressed woman was sitting with Mary, let’s call her Alice. They discussed places Mary could go to offer this service- seniors homes, hospices, veterans homes…Alice jumped on that and said she would be willing to go there for Mary and laughingly told me that she thought a vet would be a good catch. “He can call the shots, we don’t have to live together, I can visit him if that is all he wants, or not, that’s ok too.” She continued to laugh as she told me that she was looking for a new boyfriend because one of her girlfriends stole her latest one. “I introduced him to a group of my friends, and figured I would wait and make my move on the way home. But he ended up chatting with one of my friends during dinner and I missed my chance. She snagged him. An eighty-year old vixen, that’s what she is” she informed us. But she was still laughing.
With this group, old age does not seem to be something dreadful, I must say!

Sulzenko and Solstice

Let's start with a local author and a local bookstore. Add some winter weather in a little town, and you have the perfect setting for a literary event - at least, for Ottawa.