tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90384162374146472222024-02-19T00:07:03.683-05:00Ask MamaAdvice from a downhome gal who tells it straight!
(Here's daughter, Mace, speaking: Mama tells it and tells it and tells it, whether you ask or not)Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-45537046373116317542013-01-24T18:41:00.000-05:002013-01-24T18:48:05.154-05:00Advice to the LovelornNow, y'all know I'm Himmarshee's fashion maven (that's a word I learned from one of my aromatherapy customers who moved to our little burg from New York City. It means expert.) Did you know I also dispense romantic advice? As someone who's pranced down the bridal path a time or two (or five), I can tell when your would-be beloved does not pass the smell test. A couple of my exes stunk like the dumpster out back of Skipper's Seafood Shack, so I know what I'm talking about. I just got this letter, and I was happy to set this gal straight:<br />
<br />
Dear Mama, <br />
<i>My fiance is about to pluck my last nerve. I've been planning our wedding for the last six months. He's had zero interest in what we're serving, how we're dressing, or who all's coming. Don't even ask about his response the one time I put some pictures of cakes and color samples on the kitchen table to get his input. </i><br />
<i>His eyes rolled back in his head and he pushed up out of his chair. </i><br />
<i>"We got any more beer?'' </i><br />
<i>You see what I mean? </i><br />
<i>About all I expect of him is to show up on time and make sure the fly is zipped in his tuxedo pants. </i><br />
<i>Now, with the wedding less than two weeks away, he's suddenly taken an interest. A buddy of his brought his wedding album by the trailer. My groom's now brimming with ideas. He wants a camouflage theme, just like his buddy's big day. I don't mind some camo accents here and there, maybe for cummerbunds or the bunting in a bouquet with yellow carnations. But he's talking a camouflage tsunami, with everybody from the minister to the flower girl garbed up like deer hunters. </i><br />
<i>What do you think, Mama? Should I change everything just to make him happy? </i><br />
<br />
<i>Signed, </i><br />
<i>Not a Happy Hunter</i><br />
<br />
Dear Not Happy,<br />
Peeee-yew!<br />
Run for the hills, honey. This man is not marrying material.<br />
I don't have a thing against camouflage clothing (in fact, I have a sexy outfit in pink camo that Sal thinks is adorable!) What stinks is a selfish nature, and your groom has that in spades.<br />
First, he lets you do all the hard work, acting like it's beneath him to help plan what's supposed to be the happiest day of your lives. Then, at the last minute, he expects you to toss out everything in favor of his harebrained idea. (How many of those beers did he drink anyway, mooning over his buddy's wedding pictures?)<br />
Selfish, selfish, selfish.<br />
Break off the engagement. Cut your losses. Then go out looking for a man who cares about your feelings. C'mon by and see us at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow beauty parlor. We'll do a pick-me-up makeover, and I'll even let you borrow my pink camo get-up for your manhunt.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://badkittyexoticwear.com/shop/images/RW_DD849CMOS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://badkittyexoticwear.com/shop/images/RW_DD849CMOS.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
You can see what it looks like, in the picture just above. <br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Mama Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-68158541436445460432012-04-24T12:57:00.001-04:002012-04-24T12:57:37.384-04:00Yippee, y'all! We're getting back to Mama handing out advice here in the bloggosphere. As you know, that's something I dearly love to do. So here's my most recent fashion question:<br />
<br />
<i>Dear Mama, </i><br />
<i>I don't know what to do about an author friend of mine. She insists on wearing a feather boa to book signings, conferences, and the like. I don't have the heart to tell her the boa's gotten kind of ripe (if you know what I mean) and it's really ratty looking. It's molting, and she leaves a trail of feathers everywhere she goes. Plus, who wears a boa with a pantsuit? Well, I know you do, Mama, but that's because you were in that movie recently and you became a Hollywood diva. I read all about it in </i><i><a href="http://mamaseesstars.com/" target="_blank">Mama Sees Stars</a>. Divas are </i><i>expected to swan about in dark sunglasses and feather boas. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Authors? Not so much. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>So my question is this: How do you tell a friend when they're making a big fashion </i><i>faux </i><i>pas? I don't want her to feel bad, but I'm also tired of vacuuming up feathers from the floor mats whenever she rides in my car. Did I mention I'm allergic to birds?</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<i>Signed, </i><br />
<i>A Concerned Friend</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPJ7A89I7ZQfARou3hg4iXug_MBHSNnwT9nEj8bOWRNp_41sWg1aDJ3tM1a8aWKChqKh__7v4LpCFByLc-U8B8fgK8pO3Jg4qtXQaM_CggAbB_jnh6y0Jpwcug1XrICBXUiBddg1A5ois/s1600/nopixplease.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPJ7A89I7ZQfARou3hg4iXug_MBHSNnwT9nEj8bOWRNp_41sWg1aDJ3tM1a8aWKChqKh__7v4LpCFByLc-U8B8fgK8pO3Jg4qtXQaM_CggAbB_jnh6y0Jpwcug1XrICBXUiBddg1A5ois/s320/nopixplease.jpg" width="155" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1775027099"></span><span id="goog_1775027100"></span><br />
<br />
Dear Concerned,<br />
<br />
It's funny you should ask, because I know someone just like your friend. That snippy author Deborah Sharp runs around in a boa, pretending to be me. It makes me madder than a wasp with a ruined nest, I can tell you that. Last time I checked, <i>she</i> wasn't the one who was cast in a Hollywood movie. I put a picture on this page, above, so you can see her blatantly trying to steal my spotlight, not to mention my red carpet. (PS: Who wears a boa with <i>sneakers</i>?) <br />
<br />
But enough about me. I say you sit your friend down and tell her the truth. That's always the best way to handle advice, don't you think? Well, unless one of your daughters asks if a certain dress she's wearing makes her look fat. It turns out you really should tell a white lie, or she'll go on a diet and not bring you candy on Mother's Day. Trust me.<br />
<br />
You could always convince your friend to wear a sherbet-colored scarf instead of a boa. A scarf is just as pretty, and they don't shed. Unless you buy it at the dollar store. <br />
<br />
Yours Truly,<br />
<i>Mama </i>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-78090518846802234602011-12-29T20:25:00.007-05:002011-12-29T21:21:44.577-05:00Mama Takes ManhattanHowdy, y'all! This blogger spot had me locked out for a while, but I'm back now. Something about passwords and authentication. My middle daughter Mace finally took care of it. I told her to tell those folks down at the Hotmail factory I'm a Florida native, and as authentic as they come. ''Tell them I resent the implication,'' I told Mace. She said the tech support people could not give one -- or zero -- about what I do or do not resent.<br /><br />Anyhoo, you may have heard the big news: That snippy author Deborah Sharp made a visit this week to the Today Show in New York City. As much as it pains me to say it, she didn't take my fashion advice ... and it turned out all right. I was lobbying pretty hard for her to wear something in the sherbet-colored spectrum. Lord knows that palette's worked for me. But she listened instead to some salesgirl at the Dillard's in Fort Lauderdale. It's no surprise our Ms. Fancy Pants Author would choose a swanky department store over Himmarshee's very own Home on the Range Feed Store and Clothing Emporium, is it?<br /><br />Anyway, here's a picture Mace snapped off the TV of her in that pretty royal blue sweater:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxk1R-TrBYYNlNxQ_MxolD4NZD6YlTlhQBb70DwoGVi3Lx5ALDoWM19tb-PDyp6iO5sBu6rkPUGUfq0PN7g1gp1ZDHEetqg4RyQ95Bq2Z62n7RgrxO3Rnz10VNDa5m0UjeWk44T4TxySFA/s1600/todayshotTV12-28-11smaller.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxk1R-TrBYYNlNxQ_MxolD4NZD6YlTlhQBb70DwoGVi3Lx5ALDoWM19tb-PDyp6iO5sBu6rkPUGUfq0PN7g1gp1ZDHEetqg4RyQ95Bq2Z62n7RgrxO3Rnz10VNDa5m0UjeWk44T4TxySFA/s320/todayshotTV12-28-11smaller.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691733459925783634" border="0" /></a><br />I'm big enough to admit it works. Now that her hair's going gray, that wintry blue is a fine color choice. But don't get me started on how I feel about her opting for the natural look, hair-wise. Betty Taylor, the owner of Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow Beauty Parlor, could take 10 years off her look if she'd just sit down for a little highlight and tint.<br /><br />Did you happen to see her interview? When that nice Savannah Guthrie asked her how many times I'd been married, she made a big show of counting out all five times on her fingers. I've never thought someone else's unfortunate marital history should be the source of a cheap joke, have you?<br /><br />You can watch a clip of Ms. Fancy Pants on TV by clicking <a href="http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/45752977/ns/today-books/#.Tv0chVbNlB1">here</a>. Maybe if she ever gets invited back up to New York City, she'll ask me along for the interview. After all, I'm only the one who's <span style="font-style: italic;">lived</span> the stories she writes down in those books of hers. Not that I'm bitter, understand. Bitterness is just as unbecoming as failing to give credit where it's due. That's a little bit of advice, courtesy of Mama. Hopefully, it won't fall on deaf ears.Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-91833388523061699002011-09-08T22:53:00.004-04:002011-09-10T09:36:50.254-04:00Mama's Big Ol' Blog Tour<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HqA4TdzLnQZXG3COFu2Nlp1upoWUnreufSKl78EqxMt5WsrxftApm_2y0GHInuLcMFpOUjBr0oPqeOyLubK3R8qn7V4_aarNoLEx_sKakssDAnrlx1_udO-W4QDHP6rZ7uk5ApoEdzaQ/s1600/starscameraboasmaller.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HqA4TdzLnQZXG3COFu2Nlp1upoWUnreufSKl78EqxMt5WsrxftApm_2y0GHInuLcMFpOUjBr0oPqeOyLubK3R8qn7V4_aarNoLEx_sKakssDAnrlx1_udO-W4QDHP6rZ7uk5ApoEdzaQ/s320/starscameraboasmaller.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650187852668157906" border="0" /></a>Hi, there ... Snippy Author here. Mama's invited me here to her blog because somebody's <span style="font-style: italic;">got</span> to help me remember where I'm supposed to be guest-blogging (it's clear I haven't remembered to blog here, at Ask Mama, for a good little while!)<br /><br />Today is the official release date of MAMA SEES STARS, the fourth book in my funny, Southern-fried Mace Bauer Mystery series. All the kids are doing blog tours, so I thought I'd try one, too. But I'm old, and kind of lazy ... so not only am I not making that many stops, I've also screwed up the scheduling through failure to plan and memory lapses.<br /><br />Hence, I have lots of days with no stops, and a few days with too many stops. Sigh.<br /><br />Anyway, I'm putting a list here of where I'm supposed to be, and what I'm supposed to write about (either as the fictional Mama character or the relatively real me). I think I can remember my way back to Ask Mama to check from time to time to see if A, I'm who I thought I was, and B, I'm at the tour stop where I'm supposed to be.<br /><br />Do check out some of the wonderful bloggers so graciously hosting me:<br /><br />MAMA SEES STARS Big Ol' Blog Tour, Sept-Oct 2011<br /><br />Sept. 8, Launch Date:<br />Mama on Aromatherapy: <a href="http://anastasiapollack.blogspot.com/">Killer Crafts and Crafty Killers</a><br /><br />Interview with Gail Shepherd on her blog about writing, <a href="http://gailshepherd.blogspot.com/2011/09/interview-with-author-deborah-sharp.html">PARADOXY</a><br /><br />Profile by Jackie Minniti, <a href="http://fabulousfloridawriters.blogspot.com/2011/09/deborah-sharp-meet-mama.html">Fabulous Florida Writers<br /></a><br /><br />Sept 9:<br /><br />A Day in the Life of Mama, at the blog of super reader <a href="http://notesfromme.wordpress.com/2011/09/09/a-day-in-the-life-of-mama-by-deborah-sharp/">Dru Ann Love</a>.<br /><br />Bling My Boa, at the Midnight Ink Writers' Blog, <a href="http://midnightwriters.blogspot.com/">Inkspot</a><br /><br />Sept. 12:<br /><br />Five Great Public Speaking Tips for Writers, at Elizabeth Craig's terrific blog, <a href="http://mysterywritingismurder.blogspot.com/">Mystery Writing is Murder</a><br /><br />Sept. 15:<br /><br />Guest at Barnes and Noble's online <a href="http://bookclubs.barnesandnoble.com/t5/Mystery/bd-p/MysteryGen">Mystery Book Club</a>. Moderator: Becke Davis<br /><br />Sept. 23:<br /><br />''Watch for Falling Logophiles,'' at <a href="http://www.cozychicksblog.com/">Cozy Chicks</a>.<br /><br />Oct. 13:<br /><br />Guest Blogger at <a href="http://www.meanderingsandmuses.com/">Meanderings and Muses</a>, with the fabulous Kay Barley.<br /><br />Oct. 23:<br /><br />Sweeeeet!, Deborah on Movie Candy at <a href="http://www.mysteryloverskitchen.com/">Mystery Lovers Kitchen</a><br /><br />Oct. 31:<br /><br />Mama's Horrifying Halloween at <a href="http://www.killercharacters.com/">Killer Characters</a>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-63157865927371238492011-07-09T11:38:00.004-04:002011-07-09T12:07:07.061-04:00Dress for the Weather<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.tailsinc.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Cat-in-Raincoat-231x300.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.tailsinc.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Cat-in-Raincoat-231x300.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">I thought I'd sit down and jot a few words, since the rain has all but spoiled going outside today. It's so gloomy and overcast in Himmarshee, Fla. The only living creatures who aren't sick to death of this weather are the dabbling ducks and the gators.<br /><br />When the day is this gray, I like to cheer things up by dressing in lots of color. If you've read anything about me in one of those mystery books Ms. Author writes, you already know I like anything in shades of sherbet. I've got my sherbet-colored pantsuits, of course, but I've also got slickers and boots and rain hats in every hue in the ice-cream rainbow. I've been on the look-out for a cute raincoat for my sweet Pomeranian, Teensy. Maybe something like what the cat's wearing in that picture, above? I just know Teensy could rock that little cloak, but it'd have to be in lime-sherbet green or raspberry, to match my foul-weather gear. You let me know if you see anything, hear? Teensy wears an XXXXSmall. My new husband, ''Big Sal'' Provenza, on the other hand, wears an XXXXLarge. Not that I'd ever get that man into a sherbet-colored rain cloak.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Well, thanks for letting me bend your ear for a moment or two on this dreary day. If it was already September, I could sit down with a copy of MAMA SEES STARS. I like to take out my red pen and mark up all the parts of my story Ms. Smarty Pants got wrong. But the book won't be out until then, so I have to find something else to do in the meantime.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Tell me, what do you do to cheer yourself up on nasty days? </p><p class="MsoNormal">Love, <span style="font-style: italic;">Mama</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-18245255299393049112011-04-12T16:40:00.004-04:002011-04-12T17:03:06.617-04:00Too Much or Just Enough?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR21CeYL2buJNUOiv70Zl2dzQEKe7J9APgRA9E9jZF6HIkT-_0lAo86JWCqkFZeDPsp4FxdMCmY5V6sb0r28nx3nL6yRjr-jyJ9lV9khGz3vQopz0rMKX30JteTZ8KSadytWwn37cMQmQw/s1600/DeborahSharphideousveil.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR21CeYL2buJNUOiv70Zl2dzQEKe7J9APgRA9E9jZF6HIkT-_0lAo86JWCqkFZeDPsp4FxdMCmY5V6sb0r28nx3nL6yRjr-jyJ9lV9khGz3vQopz0rMKX30JteTZ8KSadytWwn37cMQmQw/s320/DeborahSharphideousveil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594801648640187714" border="0" /></a><br />I never thought I'd see the day. That know-it-all author, Deborah Sharp, has come to me for fashion advice. Can you believe it?<br /><br />She wants to know whether she should bring along the lovely ''Mama veil'' when she goes to Malice Domestic, a big convention for fans of mystery books. It's in Maryland, right outside Washington, DC, and she'll be there from April 30 to May 1.<br /><br />I told her, Absolutely! Pack up that bridal vision and turn some heads! My mama taught me to ALWAYS make an entrance, and believe me, with that veil Miss Sharp will certainly make an entrance in the halls of Malice.<br /><br />I hear she's been wearing it at some of the signings she's been doing for MAMA GETS HITCHED. I say ''hear'' because she's never seen fit to invite me to a single signing, even though every one of her blasted books is based on something that happened to ME. She says the veil is modeled after the one I wore when I married Big Sal Provenza last summer ... but then she tells folks at her signings that it looks like a prehistoric wedding bird flew over and plopped a five-pound turd of tulle and fake flowers right on top of her head. Now, I ask you, is that any way for Miss Author to talk about the fashion sense of her literary muse?<br /><br />Anyhoo ... she's all worried that people will think she's just looking for attention at Malice Domestic. She's afraid they'll stare. I told her, "Honey, there's nothing wrong with a little attention and admiration. Lord knows I'm used to it!''<br /><br />I promised to put the question to my faithful readers. So, here it is ... The Mama Veil: Too much or Just enough?Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-33569560285579617302011-04-04T12:19:00.002-04:002011-04-04T12:41:02.239-04:00Mama's Plumb Web Crazy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2701/4178699709_429f4f2276.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 424px; height: 341px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2701/4178699709_429f4f2276.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, y'all, this Internet thing is about to pluck my last nerve.<br /><br />Mace and I have been knocking ourselves out to see if we can't get my little advice column and myriad musings on the Wide World of the Web to ''feed'' over to a ''page'' that snippy author Deborah Sharp set up over at a place called ''Amazon.'' I'm putting those special quote marks around the things I don't really understand in that last sentence. The only feed we're familiar with here in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Himmarshee</span> is for chickens, hogs and cattle. You can walk right up to the counter at Home on the Range Feed Store and Clothing Emporium and ask for it by name.<br /><br />Easy, breezy, right? Let me tell you, visiting the nice folks at Home on the Range is nothing like trying to get something done on the Internet.<br /><br />Nonetheless, we're going to keep on trying. Well, if I'm honest, I'd have to say my daughter Mace is going to keep on trying. I myself am enjoying a glass of sweet pink wine. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ahh</span>, that's good! Another couple of these, and I won't care where in the world my ''post'' ''feeds'' to.<br /><br />But Mace is working awful hard to get it to work. Please do let me know if my latest musing ever shows up at the Amazon shop, would you?Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-30245208103478616162011-03-30T18:39:00.006-04:002011-03-30T19:21:39.796-04:00My Stars & Garters!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.voices.com/voxdaily/female-feet-red-carpet.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 386px; height: 223px;" src="http://blogs.voices.com/voxdaily/female-feet-red-carpet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I'm absolutely in a dither, y'all! I need some advice, right quick.<br /><br />What should I wear for my turn on the red carpet when MAMA SEES STARS comes out in September? (You can get a sneak peek at the book <a href="http://mamaseesstars.com/">right here</a>. Somebody pasted it out there on the internet, right onto the Wide World of the Web. )<br /><br />It's still hot as Hades in Himmarshee in September. So, whatever I wear can't show sweat .... er, ''dew.'' I know you've heard the saying: Horses sweat; men perspire; ladies dew.<br /><br />Well, honey, the ''dew'' is running like a river in middle Florida in September. You're lucky if you make it from your air-conditioned house to your air-conditioned car without sopping wet stains as big as dinner plates under your armpits and your pantyhose all soggy and stuck in spots you didn't even know you had. I don't mean to get personal, but I'm just sayin.'<br /><br />So, help me out, won't you? What's cool, comfortable, appropriate red-carpet garb for a Southern gal of a certain age? I won't mention the specific number, because you'd never believe it. Everybody tells me I look 10 years younger than I am. I know I look 10 times better than that fancy author, Deborah Sharp. She's sure to be there on the red carpet, too, taking all the credit as usual. But this one is purely my story. It's all about how I got a part when the film crew came to shoot in Himmarshee. It was so exciting!<br /><br />Of course, there was that murder and all. Still, I've heard my scene in the movie they made has all the hallmarks of a Hollywood legend. That's why the pressure is on to pick the perfect outfit, y'all. <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.amazon.com/Mama-Sees-Stars-Bauer-Mystery/dp/0738726982">Mama Sees Stars</a> might just be my ticket to super-stardom.Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-30339105893119608622011-03-04T14:48:00.005-05:002011-03-04T15:23:25.670-05:00Snippy Author Stealing My Stories ... Again<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIt5HH4K22wrFCbL_4shdDOEdQyDlSDCErn5se-2tHkCCDUF4PzYjTjw8MlEaAWAvy_XFFenGaAqjZqIQFKSpxACY5S5hf-2Me0TSx-hKECCeKuFK4Uk6GsRlpQHl7zRh46j29Lcur9XJ/s1600/Mama+Sees+Stars+smaller.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIt5HH4K22wrFCbL_4shdDOEdQyDlSDCErn5se-2tHkCCDUF4PzYjTjw8MlEaAWAvy_XFFenGaAqjZqIQFKSpxACY5S5hf-2Me0TSx-hKECCeKuFK4Uk6GsRlpQHl7zRh46j29Lcur9XJ/s200/Mama+Sees+Stars+smaller.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580315185908743266" border="0" /></a><br />Howdy, y'all ... she's done it again. Months and months and months go by without a single word from that snippy author, Deborah Sharp. And then my middle daughter Mace goes onto the Face Book and finds that she has another book coming out soon. Well, la-di-da.<br /><br />Anybody want to take a guess about whose story she's stolen again? That's right. Mine. Doesn't that gal have any ideas from her OWN life?<br /><br />As you can see from picture to the left, the new book is called MAMA SEES STARS; it'll be out in October. If it was up to me, we'd call it MAMA BECOMES A STAR, since that's how the whole thing went down when a Hollywood movie company came to film in little Himmarshee. But, as usual, no one asked me. I'll have to admit, Ms. Sharp's publisher has done a bang-up job with the new cover. Though there might be a few too many bullet holes in that movie theater marquee. There weren't <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> many people who got shot.<br /><br />Anyhoo, just wanted to say a few words here to update everybody on the latest way that Ms. Smarty Pants has inserted herself into my life. I haven't been getting onto the computer like I used to, because I've been so busy these last few months, being a newlywed and all. Believe me, y'all, it doesn't get any easier just because I've skipped down the bridal path a time or two before (OK, a time or four before). I'm going to try to make more time for the Wide World of the Web, though, because I want everybody to know who's really living these tales while she's out there taking all the credit.<br /><br />I hear she's at Sleuthfest, some big mystery conference, this weekend. I also hear she's wearing some bright colors for her panels ... a turquoise jacket, and one in pink. Now, I wonder where Ms. Dressed in Black got THAT idea? That's right: From me! You may remember I'm a aromatherapist and consultant at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow, where I compile seasonal color charts and tell all the gals how they can improve their looks and their moods by dressing in cheerful colors. Maybe Ms. Author is finally catching on. I'll keep you posted.Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-28507592213557659262010-08-25T12:28:00.005-04:002010-08-25T12:38:14.225-04:00Snippy Author Sees StarsWell, I have to say .... Ms. Deborah Sharp did not embarrass herself when she went on the Today show on Aug. 24 to talk about my latest story, MAMA GETS HITCHED.<br /><br />Of course, BLACK is not a fashion choice I'd make for a pantsuit. Sherbet colors are so much cheerier. Not to mention, my little Pomeranian, Teensy, sheds like a blizzard, so I never wear dark colors. I was encouraged to see her in a little lipstick, though. Wonder if it was Apricot Ice, my favorite shade?<br /><br />Anyhoo ... aside from the fact she never mentioned my name, which, by the way is now Rosalee Provenza, since Sal and I tied the knot, Ms. Author did all right for herself. If you missed it, you can watch the Today Show link <a href="http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/38820880/ns/today-books/">here </a><br /><br />And if you happen to see Ms. Author, tell her not to get too big for her britches. After all, there wouldn't be any stories for her to write without Mama! The TV folks even made my latest tale one of their ''Hot Summer Reads.''Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-2017144934894044632010-07-29T18:04:00.002-04:002010-07-29T18:18:41.952-04:00Today Comes A'Callin!'<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.sprytv.com/CartoonCamera.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 273px;" src="http://www.sprytv.com/CartoonCamera.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Well, y'all ... Big news! That snippy author is going on the NBC Today show to talk about me and my Wedding of the Century.<br /><br />Aug. 24, sometime between the hours of 7-10 AM. No word yet on which morning personality will do the interview.<br /><br />Lord have mercy, I hope she finds something nice to wear. And, please, would someone tell her to make sure those makeup folks put a little something on that shiny skin of hers? Last time, her forehead gleamed like the high beams on a Monster Truck once those TV lights hit it.<br /><br />Love,<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Mama</span>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-63263041023520914822010-06-30T08:44:00.003-04:002010-07-29T18:03:33.831-04:00Mama Gets Interviewed!Hey, everybody!<br /><br />I finally got to have my say in a real interview with another famous mama from literature, Anna Belle Watson. If you haven't heard of her yet, she's a real pistol. We had a great time sitting down and talking about our headstrong daughters, my mystery-solving Mace, and her Sophie Mae Reynolds.<br /><br />We also got to bi ... er, complain, about our authors, and that's always fun. You can check out our little chat at <a href="http://mysterygal-mysterygal.blogspot.com/2010/06/double-mother-trouble.html">Mystery Gal </a>today (that snippy author's blog).<br /><br />Cheers,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Mama </span>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-25892434267899391032010-06-21T16:11:00.003-04:002010-06-21T16:15:32.374-04:00That Lazy Author FINALLY Sent My NewsletterWell, y'all, we had to wait all year, but Ms. Deborah Sharp FINALLY got off her duff and made me a newsletter. I wouldn't have done it exactly the same way, understand, but she's still learning about the Wide World of the Web and all.<br /><br />Take a gander, and let me know what you think:<br /><br /><a href="http://hosted.verticalresponse.com/500613/58de7cc57e/1786501872/740619e8d8/">Summer 2010: Mama Gets Hitched!</a><br /><br />Love,<br />MamaRosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-58580916808946779752010-06-20T17:05:00.006-04:002010-06-20T18:48:26.870-04:00My Wedding's Going to the Dogs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Owfx3gVffhEoqCAhA9oly_sLM84KX-SLPBzrLchXh2-hQrH3D24e-r2rldzpM50sFY6OEfm_x_jTXymnAESBN__OQDt8uGej-7Sd_LjinaPby-UOLUA21z-mfoDo7ySBQIRz9LaK6SLG/s1600/FortheLoveofDog_rottcloseup4.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Owfx3gVffhEoqCAhA9oly_sLM84KX-SLPBzrLchXh2-hQrH3D24e-r2rldzpM50sFY6OEfm_x_jTXymnAESBN__OQDt8uGej-7Sd_LjinaPby-UOLUA21z-mfoDo7ySBQIRz9LaK6SLG/s200/FortheLoveofDog_rottcloseup4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484981944564320882" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear Mama,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />I don't know where else to turn. I'm getting married soon, and my groom is getting on my last nerve. I want everything to be perfect, but he's </span><span style="font-size:85%;">thisclose</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">to ruining my Special Day.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Mama, he wants his Rottweiler in the bridal party. I've tried to tell him this is just too tacky for words, but he won't budge. He says it's the only request he has, and that if I don't honor it, it's a bad omen for our married life together.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />First of all, Bear smells like he's been rolling in a dead skunk. Second, that dog's breath will clear out the whole front pew of the church, both the bride's side and the groom's. Third, he can't distinguish between a female dog and a female's leg, if you get my drift. He'll jump on anything that moves, and hump it harder than a piston engine.<br /><br />I've been having nightmares, seeing our sacred ceremony ruined as Bear gets busy with a bridesmaid's thigh, or the bustle on my gown.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">The image is just too awful for words. Should I make this a deal-breaker, Mama?</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Signed,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Mustn't Love Dogs</span><br /><br /><br />Dear Musn't,<br /><br />I'm a little bit biased on this particular topic. My middle daughter Mace and I went round 'n' round on the question of including my pet Pomeranian, Teensy, in my wedding. I just knew that dog would be adorable as the ring-bearer, in his little satin vest and doggy top hat. Mace, always a kill-joy, argued that animals have no place in a wedding.<br /><br />I suspect she just didn't want the attention diverted from her in that beautiful bridesmaid gown. Don't believe Mace for a minute when she says she hated the gown, in a becoming shade of lime sherbet green, along with a matching ruffled parasol and drawstring purse. Everyone in Himmarshee, Fla., said she and her two sisters looked stunning in their ringlet curls and Scarlett O'Hara, sherbet-colored dresses.<br /><br />Well, at least they looked stunning until the ''incident,'' when the ruckus started and everyone had to hit the floor. <br /><br />But I digress. I won the argument with Mace (as I usually do). Teensy prancing down the aisle with Sal's and my wedding rings was one of the cutest moments ever, matrimonially speaking. Of course it didn't hurt to have the dog on hand, considering what happened at the reception.<br /><br />Oh, you can read all about it in <a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Mama-Gets-Hitched/Deborah-Sharp/e/9780738719221">MAMA GETS HITCHED</a>.<br /><br />So, I say let Bear be in your wedding. It'll make your groom happy, and it won't kill you to let him win this argument (That'll change once you're married, hon). Just to be safe, hide a can of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Halt!</span> in your bouquet. If Bear tries to get ''busy,'' just give him a little spritz.<br /><br />Love,<br />MamaRosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-52367925617977455632010-04-30T20:13:00.002-04:002010-04-30T20:50:52.153-04:00Gossip Girl<em>Dear Mama, </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I'm at a big mystery novel convention outside Washington, D.C., and I have a problem. It involves you. Suppose I heard something about you -- something negative. Would you want to know? Or, is gossip best left unrepeated? </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Just let me say that I don't for a minute believe this woman who's going around claiming how well she knows you. I mean, really. She says you did a stint in jail. You? A Himmarshee, Fla, Sunday School teacher, in the slammer? And multiple marriages? I mean who'd write into a column for advice on love from a woman who'd already tied the sacred knot of matrimony FOUR times??? </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I won't even mention what she's telling everybody here about your impending nuptials. (Wedding No. 5. Really?) Suffice to say a Gone-With-the-Wind themed wedding is a bit over-the-top, especially with those Scarlett O'Hara gowns and parasols, and a Pomeranian ring-bearer in a little doggy top hat. Not to mention the murder in the kitchen at the VFW.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Well, I won't tell you the very worst of what she says about you. Please say it's not true, Mama. How can you hand out advice when your own life is in such an uproar? </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Sincerely,</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>A Mystery Fan at Malice Domestic</em><br /><em>Arlington, Va. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br />Dear Mystery Fan,<br /><br />Let me guess: You ran into that snippy author, Deborah Sharp. Don't believe a word that woman says. She's jealous, is all. She wouldn't even have a career without me. But does she give me a lick of credit?<br /><br />No, she does not.<br /><br />I won't even respond to those outlandish claims of hers. You do know Miss Smarty Pants Sharp makes up things for a living, don't you? Take everything she says about me with a grain ... no, a whole box .... of salt.<br /><br />As for those Scarlett bridesmaid gowns . . .honey you'd have to see how beautiful my three girls looked before you said a word against them. When Betty did their hair in ringlet curls at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow Beauty Parlor . . . well, that was just the crowning touch. Everybody in Himmarshee said so.<br /><br />You go find that author gal and tell her to quit spreading gossip about me. There is such a thing as slander. You just remind her my nephew Henry is Himmarshee's top attorney. (I know we only have the two, but still.)<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MamaRosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-81997246727082131322010-04-22T23:26:00.003-04:002010-04-22T23:34:19.995-04:00We've Got a Winner!<span style="font-style: italic;">I never go back on my word, y'all. That's why I've let Miss Author take over my space one more time. Here's her announcement. </span><br /><br />Those who commented on author Deborah Sharp's guest post April 20 at <a href="http://poweredbybooks.blogspot.com/2010/04/deborah-sharp-talks-matrimony-and.html">POWERED BY BOOKS </a>were entered in a drawing. Molly Weston's name was picked to win a signed copy of MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN (Midnight Ink, 2009). Congratulations, Molly!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I second that, Molly. Hope you like MY story. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Sincerely, Mama </span>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-37135974216220794042010-04-19T14:42:00.004-04:002010-04-19T15:13:18.965-04:00Honey, You're too Pushy!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.logicclub.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/winnerBanner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 574px; height: 187px;" src="http://www.logicclub.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/winnerBanner.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, the shoe's on the other foot again, y'all. I need your advice, and fast.<br /><br />I know this author, let's say her name is <a href="http://www.deborahsharp.com/">Deborah S</a>., and she is just the pushiest thing ever. A little while back, she took over this advice column of mine, here on the Wide World of the Web. Normally, I address the pressing concerns of folks needing help with all sorts of problems. But there she was, yammering on and on about some award or the other. She put up a bunch of pictures (The <span style="font-style: italic;">Monkees</span>??), and made up all sorts of lies. Honestly, I stopped reading after the first three or four paragraphs. That poor gal is just plain boring without the wonderful source material provided to her by a certain matriarch from Himmarshee, Fla.<br /><br />Anyhoo, she's at it again. Now she wants this space to announce that she's running a contest on April 20 over at the blog of an author friend by the name of <a href="http://poweredbybooks.blogspot.com/">Deb Baker </a>. (That raises another question. Do all these author gals have the same name?) Deborah S. wanted me to let you know that all you have to do is comment on her post over at <a href="http://poweredbybooks.blogspot.com/">Powered by Books</a>, and you'll be entered in a drawing to win a copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mama-Rides-Shotgun-Bauer-Mystery/dp/0738713309/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1230311156&sr=1-2">MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN</a>. She's pushed her way back AGAIN into announcing the winner here, on MY spot, on April 23.<br /><br />Well, I'll go along, since I happen to know that book is a rip-roaring mystery starring yours truly. But somebody tell me, please, how do I get this pushy author out of my life? Y'all, she's just about to pluck my last nerve! I'd appreciate any advice you can offer, short of committing murder myself . . . Help!<br /><br />Signed,<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Mama </span>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-32270380775602909522010-03-01T08:43:00.008-05:002010-03-01T09:35:33.461-05:00Too Close to His Mama<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.feoamante.com/Movies/Psycho/images/HousenNorm15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 360px;" src="http://www.feoamante.com/Movies/Psycho/images/HousenNorm15.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Well, finally!<br /><br />I put out the word a while back that what with planning my own wedding and all, I'd be glad to take your ''wed-iquette'' questions. I just got my first letter, and I sure have something to say:<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear Mama,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm supposed to get married next summer, but I'm having second thoughts. His mother wants to be involved, which is all fine and good, but she wants to be a little too involved, in my opinion. For example:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Instead of me walking down the aisle with my dad, she wants to walk down the aisle with my fiance, Norman. She wants to give him away.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">She wants my bridesmaids to wear this putrid puce color, because that's the color she looks good in. She's already chosen her mother-of-the-groom dress in the same shade, and she wants all the flower arrangements to play off her dress.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">We're buying things for the home we'll share, and his mother insists that this clunky wooden rocking chair come with us. My tastes run more to elegant modern furniture. The chair looks like something my great grandma would have stored in the attic.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Finally, I want a home with a nice master bath and big whirlpool tub. But Norman's mother insists a shower will do just fine, and won't take up as much space.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The worst part is, he wants to spend all his time with her, and he never stands up for me. I tell you, it cuts like a knife when he takes her side against me. Do you think I should go ahead with this wedding, Mama?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Signed, Concerned</span><br /><br /><br />Dear Concerned,<br /><br />I have four words for you, darlin.' Rent Alfred Hitchcock's <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Psycho</span>.<br /><br />I'm all for children showing respect to their mamas (Mace falls a little short sometimes, to be honest). But your man is waaaaay too close to Mama. That's just going to bring you heartache, honey, or maybe something worse. Forget the rental hall deposit and run for the hills.<br /><br />If you decide to not take my advice, and marry anyway .... well, just make sure you don't settle for the bathroom with that little shower.<br /><br />Love,<br />MamaRosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-30800012719695393932010-02-28T19:44:00.004-05:002010-02-28T20:40:40.831-05:00Which Are the Lies?<span style="font-style: italic;">Hey, y'all ...<br /><br />As promised, I'm making Miss Fancy Pants Author Deborah Sharp fess up today as to what's the truth and what's pure fiction from the claims she made (below) for that Bald Faced Liar Award. I will tell you one thing: Picturing her on that nude beach in her birthday suit on her 50th is enough to ruin my dinner. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Sincerely, </span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Mama </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">1. I worked as a street mime in Paris the summer after high school. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">False ... but it would have been a good fit, since I can't SPEAK French.</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> )</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gamasutra.com/db_area/images/igf/Its_Mimetime/screenshot.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 436px; height: 327px;" src="http://www.gamasutra.com/db_area/images/igf/Its_Mimetime/screenshot.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />2. I went, sans swimsuit, to a nude beach on my 50th birthday. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">True, and I froze. Even though the beach is in Miami, my birthday is in January</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">.)</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />3. I was a DJ at my college radio station and my stage name was Sexy Sadie. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">False</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">)</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />4. I was a finalist to be a contestant on the first season of ''Survivor.'' (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">So False</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">)</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />5. I was an Egyptian queen during one past life; a witch at the Salem trials in another. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">False, but would be cool, no? </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">)</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />6. I won a Hot Bod bikini contest during college Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">True. It involved the ingestion of several Rum Runners and a crocheted string bikini. 'Nuff said</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">. )</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://salestores.com/stores/images/images_747/P230-1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 337px; height: 501px;" src="http://salestores.com/stores/images/images_747/P230-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />7. I was selected to be the first journalist in space before NASA's funding dried up. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">False</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">)</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />8. I was arrested for violating a restraining order in a dust-up with the Monkees' Davy Jones. (</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">False, but I did doodle Davy's name on my book covers, convinced we'd marry someday ... </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Daydream Believer</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">, indeed</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">. )</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.elharo.com/blog/images/monkees.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.elharo.com/blog/images/monkees.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Congrats to </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><strong></strong></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Dru Ann Love, Sue Ann Jaffarian, and Glen Allison, who each guessed correctly on one out of my two truths. Thanks, too, to Alan, Julia, Deb and Victoria for playing along. </span>Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-80350797750548244262010-02-25T23:18:00.004-05:002010-02-25T23:56:32.208-05:00Get Friendly, Y'allWell, I just tallied up the friends that snippy author has on her Facebooks. I'm no math genius, but even I can see she's way ahead of me.<br /><br />How is it that the most popular person in Himmarshee, Fla., only has 47 Internote friends? I think that smart-aleck Deborah Sharp has done something to sabotage me. I bet she crossed the wires on the Wide World of the Web so that when people try to sign up to be <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#%21/group.php?gid=32030252049">Friends of Mama</a>, they wind up on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/deborah.sharp1">her page</a> instead.<br /><br />It's just not fair, y'all. I'm nicer than she is, and I'm a more interesting person, too. I was the head cheerleader AND homecoming queen at Himmarshee High back in .... well, a few years back. It's not braggin' if it's fact! What'd she ever do in high school? Dressed like a hippie and hung out at Surf Beach, that's what. I'm surprised any college would have her.<br /><br />I'm ready to take things into my own hand. You know how that Ellen De-Something gal on TV has her own flag (and I'm not talking about the Rainbow Flag). Here's what it looks like:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ellen.warnerbros.com/images/blog/0110/14-laguh-dance-conquer.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 161px;" src="http://ellen.warnerbros.com/images/blog/0110/14-laguh-dance-conquer.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <br /><br />Well, if Ellen can do it, I can too. I intend to conquer Ms. Sharp with a whole slew of new friends on Facebooks. So spread the word. You can sign up <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#%21/group.php?gid=32030252049">here, at Friends of Mama.</a><br /><br />I'm declaring war, y'all. It's going to be just like Ellen's quest for world domination. Except all I want is 10 times as many friends as that unnamed author has.Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-5536544793227221062010-02-12T12:12:00.010-05:002010-02-13T12:31:59.871-05:00Flattered or Insulted?Well, y'all ... I don't know whether to take this as a compliment or a dig. Why don't you tell me?<br /><br />Seems that glory-hogging Deborah Sharp has grabbed another award, created by Lesa Holstein at <a href="http://lesasbookcritiques.blogspot.com/">Lesa's Book Critiques</a> :<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTaEYUm8xmCy56zG53019LGA4M5eChPQ-R-vjrIjFYsz6nIklUaq6uP8sXuODpQHVrW3a1B6mD0azbaJPU4EQJSoeAAzI1kfe4CIt8emVP8SvsmmvMsVMenMbZXEi5nbc4lL3HGHuPq_yF/s1600/CreativeWriter.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTaEYUm8xmCy56zG53019LGA4M5eChPQ-R-vjrIjFYsz6nIklUaq6uP8sXuODpQHVrW3a1B6mD0azbaJPU4EQJSoeAAzI1kfe4CIt8emVP8SvsmmvMsVMenMbZXEi5nbc4lL3HGHuPq_yF/s1600/CreativeWriter.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Creative Writer </span>... sounds nice, right? But look what's crossed out: Bald Faced Liar. And Deborah's friend, <a href="http://www.sueannjaffarian.blogspot.com/">Sue Ann Jaffarian</a>, nominated this little advice column of mine, not Miss Fancy Pants' boring old author blog, <a href="http://mysterygal-mysterygal.blogspot.com/">Mystery Gal</a>.<br /><br />So, does that make Deborah or me the liar? And, do I owe Sue Ann a thank-you?<br /><br />Well, I'll play along. No one can call Mama a bad sport. Here are the rules:<br /><br />1.Thank the person who gave this to you. <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><strong></strong></span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">Hmm, thanks (?), </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.sueannjaffarian.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">Sue Ann</span>.</a><br /><br />2.Copy the logo and place it on your blog. <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><strong><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);">Done</span><br /></strong></span><br />3.Link to the person who nominated you. <span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><strong><span style="font-style: italic;">See #1 above</span>.</strong></span><br /><br />4.Tell us up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth. <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">Since the Bible tells us to always be truthful, I'm letting Deborah take over here (Lying doesn't seem to bother Miss Fancy Author):</span><br /><br />1. I worked as a street mime in Paris the summer after high school.<br />2. I went, sans swimsuit, to a nude beach on my 50th birthday.<br />3. I was a DJ at my college radio station and my stage name was Sexy Sadie.<br />4. I was a finalist to be a contestant on the first season of ''Survivor.''<br />5. I was an Egyptian queen during one past life; a witch at the Salem trials in another.<br />6. I won a Hot Bod bikini contest during college Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale.<br />7. I was selected to be the first journalist in space before NASA's funding dried up.<br />8. I was arrested for violating a restraining order in a dust-up with the Monkees' Davy Jones.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><strong></strong></span><br />5. Allow your readers to guess which one or more are true. <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><strong></strong><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">Go for it, y'all</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">.</span><br /></span><br />6. Nominate seven "Creative Writers" who might have fun coming up with outrageous lies.<br /><br /><a href="http://victoriaallman.blogspot.com/">Victoria Allman</a> : Following My Stomach<br /><a href="http://www.unauthorizedinsights.blogspot.com/">Alan Williamson</a> : Unauthorized Insights<br /><a href="http://www.fatbaldstudly.com/">Glen Allison</a> : Fat, Bald and Studly<br /><a href="http://juliabuckley.blogspot.com/">Julia Buckley</a> : Mysterious Musings<br /><a href="http://debbaker.blogspot.com/">Deb Baker</a> : Inside Looking Out<br /><a href="http://mayhemandmagic2.blogspot.com/">Pamela James and Terri Parsons</a> : Mayhem & Magic<br /><a href="http://mikebefeler.blogspot.com/">Mike Befeler</a> : Author of ''Geezer Lit'' mysteries <br /><a href="http://alanorloff.blogspot.com/"></a><a href="http://ask-mama.blogspot.com/"><br /></a><br />7. Post links to the seven blogs you nominate. <span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"><strong><span style="font-style: italic;">Done, see bloggers above</span>. </strong></span><br /><br />8. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know you nominated them. <span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"><strong><span style="font-style: italic;">All set.</span> </strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"><span style="font-style: italic;">Okay, y'all ... I'll ask Fancy Pants Deborah to announce here two weeks from today which of her statements above are whoppers.</span> </span><br /><br />Sincerely,<br />MamaRosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-37071822427003565652010-02-10T11:34:00.002-05:002010-02-10T12:02:09.226-05:00Wedding Etiquette: What to do with a Dead Caterer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.midnightinkbooks.com/_theme/product_images/200/9780738719221.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 308px;" src="http://www.midnightinkbooks.com/_theme/product_images/200/9780738719221.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Well, hey y'all! Long time no see. Sal and I are finally back from our honeymoon in Branson, Missouri, with a side-trip to the casinos in Gulfport, Mississippi. Sal rolled snake-eyes, but I had a good night at the nickel slots.<br /><br />While I was gone, the new book cover arrived for my next story, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mama-Gets-Hitched-Bauer-Mystery/dp/0738719226">MAMA GETS HITCHED</a>. (It doesn't come out 'til July, but you can jump the gun and order it now before they run out!) You'd think that snippy author, Deborah Sharp, might have asked for my input before the publisher went ahead and put the cover together . . . but, no. She's all about being the boss and grabbing all the glory, even though she just writes down what I actually live. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have had those Slim Jims and pickled eggs on the bar. I did NOT serve pickled eggs at my wedding!<br /><br />Getting around to my point: I've just been through the whole wedding thing, so I'm advertising myself as an expert now. I've always gotten letters asking for advice on love, fashion, and family feuds. But now y'all can write in with wedding questions, too.<br /><br />I mean once you start off your nuptials with a murdered caterer, there's not a whole lot that can throw you. Looking back, I might not have had my Pomeranian, Teensy, as the ring bearer, considering what happened .... but you can read all about it in <a href="http://www.midnightinkbooks.com/product.php?ean=9780738719221">MAMA GETS HITCHED </a>(Midnight Ink, July 2010).<br /><br />Now, send in those letters, y'all!Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-30242520943731363912009-12-10T08:24:00.004-05:002009-12-10T09:06:02.493-05:00If Only BUBBA Got Run Over by a Reindeer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGjb8iUiib1mjEd9snqNoxjLsdfSBs3BZAbp_vQJsoSfmtLQNgZWYcSuWkrE-iqNeip8gZDDbg0I14R-2t9YZzeKWLlIQYrI2NJa65NombzifuzMatjHsEX17OD-Q75HQPqsD1L0pgM5i/s1600-h/Redneck_christmas+%28Small%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGjb8iUiib1mjEd9snqNoxjLsdfSBs3BZAbp_vQJsoSfmtLQNgZWYcSuWkrE-iqNeip8gZDDbg0I14R-2t9YZzeKWLlIQYrI2NJa65NombzifuzMatjHsEX17OD-Q75HQPqsD1L0pgM5i/s200/Redneck_christmas+%28Small%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413607797669002434" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear Mama,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Here it is almost Christmas, and I </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">still</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> don't know what to do about my husband's drunken uncle, Bubba. He's managed to ruin every holiday dinner his family has ever had. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;">This is my first year hosting at our home, and I flat-out do not want that sorry loser at my dinner table.<br /><br />It'd be one thing if the man was a cheerful drunk. But he gets meaner than a rattlesnake with every swallow, and just as likely to strike. Last year, he told Donnie's cousin Toya she ought to lose some of her excess baby weight, and the only way to do it was to quit stuffing her face like she was still eating for two. PS: Toya was never pregnant.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />When her boyfriend stood up to defend her, Bubba knocked him into the just-carved turkey. When the poor boy hit the floor, he brought down the bird and three side dishes. Donnie's mama was picking giblets and creamed corn out of her shag carpet for a week after. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Should Bubba be banned, Mama? </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Sincerely, </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Doesn't Like Drunks</span><br /><br /><br />Dear Doesn't,<br /><br />Honey, I have been there, done that. Husband No. 2 was an awful drinker, and three of his brothers were alkies, too. When those four got together, it was like backsliders' night at the Halfway House. One Fourth of July, those mo-rons brought two cases of fireworks to set off. I'm here to tell you Jack Daniels and explosives do not make a good match.<br /><br />No. 2's youngest brother blew off his right thumb. After the ambulance took him away, the oldest two got into a fight about whose fault it was. One pulled out a gun and started shooting. Everybody dove for cover, including that sourpuss Ida, who nearly fractured a hip trying to hide under the picnic table.<br /><br />So, my answer is yes, lock your door and hide the key. Tell Bubba he's banned from your family table until he takes those 12 Steps. Of course, that's no reason the rest of y'all can't enjoy a little nip of holiday cheer. I always say the worst parties come down to either too much liquor or not enough. Believe me, a little glass of pink wine is about the only thing that makes my sister-in-law Ida tolerable.<br /><br />Love,<br />MamaRosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-24335631986969222182009-09-15T14:48:00.004-04:002009-09-15T15:25:48.457-04:00What Goes Best with the Red Carpet?Oh my stars, y'all! I'm getting an award!!!!<br /><br />Somebody on this Wide World of the Web has decided my little advice column is one of the Top 100 Mystery Novel Blogs. Check out the logo on the upper right hand portion of this page. That makes it official!<br /><br />I'm pretty sure they meant the Top 10, but I'm not going to quibble .... I'm sure before the red carpet ceremony in Hollywood, they'll get all the figures straightened out. I bet the same accounting firm that handles the votes for the Academy Awards is going to tally up our votes, too, to see who's No. 1.<br /><br />But enough of this boring talk about math. What in the world am I going to wear? Now, here's where I can use <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">y'all's</span> help. Being the best-dressed woman in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Himmarshee</span>, Fla., is one thing. But Hollywood? That's a whole '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">nother</span> universe. I do not want to end up as a red-carpet fashion victim, like that poor gal from Iceland who draped the swan across her neck and called it a dress. Here's a picture, in case you don't remember (though, honestly, how could you forget?)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ahdoe.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/bjork-worst-dress.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 599px;" src="http://www.ahdoe.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/bjork-worst-dress.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I just hope when I'm up there at the podium, accepting my award for the Top Blog on the whole Wide World of the Web, that they don't let that rapper fellow, Kenny West, anywhere near the stage. Did y'all see the way he grabbed the microphone away from that sweet Taylor Swift the other night? Poor girl looked like she plucked the biscuit with the hair out of the bread basket.<br /><br />All I can say is thank goodness <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Beyonce's</span> mama taught <span style="font-style: italic;">her </span>some manners. I got a tear in my eye when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Beyonce's</span> turn came at the podium, and she called Taylor up to have her say. And I sure did like that red dress <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Beyonce</span> had on, too. Hey, if any of y'all happen to see her, tell <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Beyonce</span> to drop me a line at Ask Mama. The high heel is on the other foot. I could sure use some of her advice on award ceremony fashion <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">do's</span>. This is my moment on the red carpet, and I do not intend to be a fashion don't.<br /><br />(Note to Mace: Honey, have those Hollywood people called yet? I do not understand why they're waiting 'til the last minute to iron out the details of when and where I'm getting my worldwide award).Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9038416237414647222.post-47355700786655565982009-08-17T08:45:00.005-04:002009-08-17T22:34:20.919-04:00Somebody Needs a Good Slappin'Well, hello friends! I'm not that great on the computer, and I don't talk directly too much to all my readers. But listen, y'all, somebody is going to have to speak to that author gal, Deborah Sharp.<br /><br />She's supposed to be working on my fourth story -- MAMA SEES STARS. It's all about how a Hollywood movie company comes to Himmarshee, and I get myself a speaking part. There was a spot of trouble over a murder, and a couple of near misses, too ... but I absolutely nailed (that's how the Hollywood actors say it: Nailed) my role as Ruby, a beautiful dancehall gal. You can ask anybody. And wait until you see me in Ruby's red dress. I don't look a day over 50. (Mace: erase that 50 to say 40, would you honey?)<br /><br />Anyhoo, this is the problem: Miss Fancy Pants Author is <em>not </em>working on my latest story. Oh, no. Says she's too busy promoting the first two books. Oh, she had to take off time from writing about me to go all the way to New York City and be on TV. Maybe you saw her on the <a href="http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/32271841/ns/today-today_books/">Today Show</a>? That Natalie Morales is cute as a button, but Miss Too-Big-for-her-Britches barely mentioned ME. She's been flying off to Chicago, then to something called Killer Nashville (I'd like to kill something, and it ain't Nashville!), and then she's going to Vero Beach, and then north to Indianapolis.<br /><br />And, '<em>promoting</em>??' Hons, my stories sell themselves. That's how good they are. She makes it sound like she's having to coerce the Baptists to serve beer in their fellowship hall.<br /><br />I want y'all to show up at one of them signings or talks or panels or whatever it is she has scheduled and give Miss Big-time a talking-to. I wouldn't even mind if you speak forcefully, if you get my drift. I've always thought she could stand to have a little sense slapped upside her head.<br /><br />You tell her she better get back to work on STARS. There are thousands upon thousands of people (well, a hundred or two, at least) on the edge of their seats to see what's gonna happen next in Mama's life. You tell her authors are a dime a dozen, but there's only one Mama. And since that's me, Mama, I just might find me another scribbler to finish up properly what Litte Missy started on MAMA SEES STARS.<br /><br />(Mace, you'll be sure to fix that typo about looking 50 before you mail this to the Wide World of the Web, won't you?)Rosalee Deveraux Provenzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05849584615573433192noreply@blogger.com4