“I think how lonely it would be to just bump along, to hang on, while life drives one about. I believe in the fates, in a kind of fundamental predestination, but fused with home-cured strategy. I remember, when I was still very young, feeling relieved, reading Tolstoy. ‘Life will shape itself,’ he promised. Though I didn’t buy it completely, I was so happy to think life might do even a part of its own work, that I could rest once in a while…”

–”A Thousand Days in Venice,” Marlena De Blasi

“So this is the story of how I–a Southern girl from the Gulf Coast of nowhere–set out to become a part of it all, an elegant, colorful piece of the Manhattan media puzzle. How I tried to prove Granddaddy, Mamma and their newspaper wrong, make New York City my city, even if nothing was all good or bad or nearly as lovely and depressed as Joan Didion’s essays told me it was going to be. Things would work themselves out, I thought. Life always seemed to have a generous way with me.”

Enough with the free excerpts! Now go out and buy a copy!

It takes a lot to get this one out of bed in the morning. I’ve tried everything.

Perfectly roasted coffee beans brewed and blended with cream and sugar.

Sugary fantastic breakfast breads.

Two-egg omelet stuffed to bursting with a sinful array of imported cheeses.

Promises that we’ll slide back in bed if only he’ll exit the hot sheets for 30 minutes and run out and snag the Times and the Daily News

Now we’re both searching for that magic a.m. formula—what gets you up and out of bed in the morning?

Our cookbook writing is in full swing and we’re trying to cook up ten sure-fire recipes that will make breakfast in the buff more delicious. Emails and comments are welcome!

No matter how well I play the game, will I ever have this?

You see, every morning I wake up and place a bet on how my day will proceed.

Will I win?

Lose?

The great authors tell us that New York is a city of infinite possibility. But the flip side of always feeling hopeful–coming this-close to success– is the breeze of despair and failure.   

You smell money in the air up here. Down South (and in the picture at left), you smell languor, marvelous little ions bouncing from the Gulf waters onto the sand and finally in through the screened porch…

Just as I’m nearing the end of my book and recipe edits, my mom sends me this, in a big, beautiful frame:

“Believe in yourself, believe in humanity, believe in the success of your undertakings. Fear nothing and no one. Love your work. Work, hope, trust. Keep in touch with today. Teach yourself to be practical and up-to-date and sensible. You cannot fail.” 

Okay, Mom, I believe in you and my undertakings and true love and a big ol’ country breakfast to get my day started in the cold, hard city. There–life and its essence. Simple.