The drive up to Ashland was easy. I've done it several times before and mostly knew how far away I was. But I did push it. I had stayed at home until 1:30pm and got to town in just enough time before the event.

Suzanne Schlosberg was already there and copies of her new book, THE CURSE of the SINGLES TABLE A True Story of 1001 Nights Without Sex were right at the cash register next to Panties. She is a smart and ambitious author who knows how to piggy back her projects so that one feeds into the other and vice versa. Curse was at Bloomsbury and she asked The Book Barn in Bend to carry Panties for her event this Saturday.

So, how’d it go?

Hopefully the smallest crowd of the whole tour, but you never know. There were a dozen people and they seemed to enjoy themselves. A few bought books. Suzanne gave a great read of “See How She Runs” about trying to get a good spot at a country western concert in Ohio. Her husband Paul was there and I got to meet the man that broke the curse. He’s a prince and a half. They met on Match.com. Not the first successful match up I’ve heard about from that site. We had a bite to eat at the only open place on Main street, a Mexican restaurant that also happened to have HUGE pie and cake slices. Afterwards, I drove down to Medford and slept in a Motel6. Not the car, if there are any worrywarts lurking out there. I tried in vain to get the computer hooked up on dial up, but ended up turning in to watch “X-Files with no lights on”.

The best part about the event in Ashland was getting mentioned in their newspaper. It was mostly about Suzanne’s Curse book, but we got included for a great line.

“In addition to “The Curse,” Schlosberg has other contributions to the chick lit lore, including a story in a compilation of stories by fellow chick lit-ers called “Whose Panties Are These Anyway?” The book – which will be the subject of a book signing at Bloomsbury Booksellers Tuesday night, where Schlosberg will join book editor Jen Leo for the event – is the sequel of the critically acclaimed first book, “Sand in my Bra.”

For any men reading this column: First, I commend you. Apparently as a species we struggle to finish an ESPN the Magazine photo essay, much less an actual news column of more than 600 words. Second, the entire aforementioned paragraph is apparently pretty big stuff to people who follow the chick lit scene. If nothing else, name drop some of the above titles and you may just get past the first drink on the next date. Finally, I have no idea of the veracity of anything I just wrote, but women who seem to know everything tell me it’s credible.”

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