These television shows would make great chick lit books!

We, and by “we,” I mean my author/blogger friends and I, often discuss what books we could totally see turned into movies. I even cast all of my books as if the screenplay adoption is imminent. But I’ve never heard anyone discuss what movies/television shows they think would make really good books. Since there is a first time for everything and I like to be a trend-setter, I’ve decided to dedicate this blog post to those television shows I think would make really good chick lit and, in some cases, young adult books:

Veronica Mars – I watched this series when it was in first-run and I loved it. To me, it’s a cross between Nancy Drew and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Blonde, petite, and adorable, Veronica is intelligent, has a snarky personality, a wicked sense of humor, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. Her father is the former sheriff of Neptune, California and currently a private investigator. Veronica assists him on his cases and has her own clientele too—most often her fellow classmates. She also has a group of adorable male admirers and the love triangles are very well done. (Team Logan!) I would love to read a book (or series of books) with Veronica at the helm. I also think she’s a great role model for young women as she is wise beyond her years, strong-willed, not prone to peer pressure and just all around the coolest high school chick ever.

Drop Dead Diva –Aspiring model Deb dies in a car crash, but rather than stay in heaven she presses the “return” button and returns to earth just in time to inhabit the body of recently deceased Jane, a plus-sized attorney in a law firm where Deb’s ex-fiancé Grayson is a partner. Of course, Grayson has no idea that Jane is really Deb and Jane is forced to witness Grayson grieve Deb’s death and eventually move on. In my opinion, this series would make the ultimate chick lit book with a touch of paranormal. There is humor, romance, fashion, and even law-changing legal cases thrown in for good measure.

The New Girl – After breaking up with her long-term boyfriend, quirky and “simply adorkable” late twenty-something Jess moves into a loft with three bachelors. Typical comedic moments ensue, along with relationship drama. Combine a cute, if not somewhat awkward and self-deprecating young woman with three handsome, single men under one roof and you have a recipe for a great chick lit book. I gave up on the television show when Jess’s quirkiness became a bit over-the-top, but I would absolutely be up for a stand-alone novel based on the television series.

The Mindy Project – The series follows thirty-something obstetrician/gynecologist Mindy as she tries to balance her personal and professional life, surrounded by quirky co-workers in a small medical practice in New York City. This series, in my opinion, embodies all that is beloved in chick lit—a multi-faceted main female character who, although professionally successful, struggles to get her personal life in order; hilarious dating disasters; an enigmatic and sexy hero who is always just slightly out of reach; well fleshed out secondary characters; and a seemingly revolving door of possible love interests to keep things interesting. I am addicted to watching this show on the small screen, but would love to read it on my Kindle too!

I certainly enjoy other television shows, but I don’t necessarily think they would transfer as well into a novel as well as the aforementioned. For example, I think a character-driven show would make for a better chick lit book than a plot-driven series where the story changes every week without much character development. I also limited my choices to those categorized as comedy, since humor is a key element in chick lit, and romance, since chick lit lovers in general love a happily ever after.

How do you feel about my choices? What television shows would you like to see made into books?

Guest Post/Giveaway – A.R. Rivera author of BETWEEN OCTOBERS out NOW!

I’m excited to invite A.R. Rivera, author of Between Octobers, to my blog today discussing “The Art of Falling” – I think I have found my soul sister of klutziness 🙂 Without further ado:

I don’t think of myself as a clumsy person. But I must admit that I seem to possess a real knack for executing spectacular falls.
The biggest, most embarrassing ones come along when I’m mingling among large groups of people, feeling confident—yeah! I’m getting published. My book is so good. I’m so happy! My life is awesome!
(Yes, these are my actual thoughts.)
The most recent spill was at the husband’s company picnic. He works with a really great group of people. They are all smart and funny, and generally great to be around. Lots of them are bibliophiles, like myself, so it’s natural to discuss my writing among them.
(CUE SHAMELESS PLUG: Between Octobers, out now, on Amazon!)
So, here’s the short of it: I tripped over an extension cord.
The long: My hands were full, so what should have been a quiet, harmless little spill, was not.
We were one of the last groups to file into the covered picnic area at a lovely city park. Most of the tables were already taken.
(Makes sense, I suppose. If I’m going to make a spectacle of myself, may as well maximize the audience.)
My duck feet didn’t get enough air to make it over an orange extension cord that was being used to power the cotton candy machine. To make it worse, I saw the cord. I made sure to step over it on my way to the line of ice chests to get drinks for me and the kids. On the way back, my foot caught on the extension cord. But I had too much momentum to simply fall. No, I had to try and walk out of it. I took three or four gaping steps, leaning forward, gaining speed as I went.
The whole thing played out in slow-motion: I was in the middle of a long, open area, heading to a table where my husband was waiting. Center-stage. My hands flew out in front of me. The bottles of water and cans of soda pop sailed onto the concrete. Right about the moment that everyone heard the drinks clatter to the ground, I went into a nose-dive. I watched my purse careen across the smooth concrete and I was glad that it didn’t spill. God only knows how many personal items could have flown out, doubling my embarrassment.
Most of the people that had been facing their plates of food were now staring at me. Watching with concerned eyes and full mouths. Some gaping.
As the heels of my palms came to a skidding stop, I heard my husbands worried voice. Someone else was suddenly beside me, asking if I was okay. My kids were standing behind me, holding their plates with shocked expressions.
I checked my stinging palms, barely any scrapes, and dusted them on my pants as I got back onto my traitorous feet.
“I’m fine!” I yelled to the watching faces. “Just bruised my pride.” I wanted to laugh. But I didn’t.
As if on cue, I felt the sudden heat rush into my cheeks, then my forehead, and ears. I was a decent shade of red in about three seconds.
Someone I recognized, a very sweet older woman, handed me my purse while another boy—the son of a co-worker—handed me all the sodas and waters that I tossed.
By that time, my safety-conscious husband had already surveyed the area and pointed out that the fault lay on whoever had stretched an extension cord over a walkway. I knew he was right, and he was trying to make me feel better about my brutal clumsiness. We spent the rest of the afternoon joking about it. Yeah, it hurt a little, but it was funny.
Looking back, I think I needed that moment. Maybe I needed to be reminded that my simple journey from one place to another may not go as planned. And that’s okay. Because I can always dust myself off, find the thing that tripped me up, and try to learn from it.

Take Two Publishing is giving away an e-copy of Between Octobers! Enter now at

Keep in touch with A.R. Rivera

Twitter: @girlnxtdr2u

Get Between Octobers now on Amazon!

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000037_00035]

About the Author:
A.R. Rivera was born in Portland, Oregon. The absolute, unyielding love she received from her parents gave her a light-hearted attitude that doesn’t let her take take life too seriously and gives her the confidence to believe she can move any mountain in her way.
Some years ago, she read a little book by a lady with the surname of Meyer. Then she read the next three. In the process, she fell back in love with reading and it sparked a passion in her she never knew she had.
Today, she spends every minute she can with her sons and husband, sharing an abiding faith and love with them as she nurtures her soul with writing.

ar rivera


pastel is the new black…in men’s clothing?

I love dressing in bright colors. In fact, I’ve been stopped on several occasions by men thanking me for bringing some color into New York City, where many of the most fashionable women sport black and grey most of the time. I like to stand out a little and so when others scan the racks for the “little black dress,” I’m scoping out the “little pink dress” or the “little red dress.” And rather than choose neutral colors for other items of clothing, I prefer my salmon colored trench coat, my lime green jacket, and my multi-colored pocketbooks. I make sure not to go overboard but, yes, I like to wear bright and colorful pieces because it puts me in a good mood and makes me feel special.

On the contrary, I don’t like it when a man’s attire stands out from the crowd. I’ve never really cared what my boyfriend wore. Most of the time, I barely noticed. As long as he didn’t look like he just rolled out of bed (unless he just rolled out of bed), it made no difference to me. My most recent boyfriend wore his Star Wars and Mellow Yellow T-shirts with jeans at least twice a week and, aside from teasing him on occasion, it didn’t bother me at all. If you asked me what a guy wore on our date, I probably wouldn’t remember, and “dressing well” has never been important to me when deciding whether to go out with a guy or not. That being said, whether a guy is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a button-down shirt and jeans, cargo-pants and a sweater etc., my only preference is that the colors and prints be relatively non-distinct. I have no problem with a pink button down paired with a grey suit or a pastel sweater paired with blue jeans, but lately, the men in New York City look like a bowl of rainbow sherbet—reds, pinks, yellow, purples all mixed together.



I was sitting outside a restaurant with my friends on Saturday sharing a bottle of Prosecco and, of course, we were people watching and scoping out men. Every third guy who walked past was dressed in some combination of light blue and red, or pink and yellow and I felt like I was crashing a Hampton’s country club in the 1980s. I’m a huge fan of gingham on men, even pink gingham, but paired with blue jeans, not yellow or royal blue pants! To me, this new trend is not manly, nor is it “boyish” or fun. To the contrary, it suggests that the guy takes his fashion too seriously, something I do not find sexy or cute.  My friend Hilda works in retail and told me to just “live with it” because it’s very much in style.


Just because something is “in” doesn’t mean I have to like it!

What about you? How do you feel about this new fashion trend? Does it have the staying power of a Chanel bag or should it disappear forever, making an occasional appearance at Halloween parties, like M.C. Hammer parachute pants?

Blogosphere Blogosphere Make Me a Match, Find Me a Find, Catch Me a Catch

In almost all of the chick lit/romantic comedy novels I write, there is a central romance and after some missteps, my main character gets the guy—maybe not the guy she wanted on page one, but the guy she eventually falls in love with, and the guy who is ultimately her best match. The closing scenes of my books always leave me with the warm and fuzzies, but as thrilled as I am for my protagonist, I am also a bit envious. Despite being several years older than all of my main characters, none of my boyfriends to date have been “the one.” As a result, I often wish I was a character in a romantic comedy so that I would know that my happily ever after was around the corner. I feel like Charlotte York in Sex and the City when she exclaimed, “I’ve been dating since I’m fifteen, where is he?”

I always make my main character work hard for her happily after ever. I don’t let her get the guy until she is truly ready for him. First she has to make her mistakes (as we all do), figure her shit out and make amends (read: character development). This is because I believe that the blessings in our life are most appreciated and most likely to be nurtured when they aren’t spoon fed to us— when we actually have to work for them. Using this mindset, I understand why I didn’t settle down in my twenties or even early thirties. I was nowhere near ready. I didn’t know myself; I’m not entirely certain I really liked myself; and my priorities were not conducive to a healthy relationship. In my twenties and early thirties, we had not gotten to the part of the chick lit book starring Meredith Schorr where I figured my shit out and made amends. As a result, I so get why I didn’t get the guy at that time in my life and I am okay with it. I don’t look backwards (much).

I am more self-aware than the average person and I am fully cognizant of the mistakes I made in the past, however, my character development has been extensive. I’ve learned so much from my mistakes and have come to terms with them. I have taken responsibility for my failed relationships and those that didn’t make it out of the gate, but, equally important, I have also realized that the failings weren’t always a result of something I did or did not do, or someone I was or wasn’t. I have learned to cut myself some slack and I now understand that I can’t control everything; that relationships take two; and not every mistake is on me. I truly like (love) myself now, inside and out, and at this point in the Meredith Schorr chick lit book, it is time to get the guy. It took me over 40 years, but I am ready (hallelujah!), and I want more than anything to find my other half.

But I can’t! In a city as populated as New York, it is beyond challenging to meet available, somewhat age-appropriate men who are looking to meet a woman to eventually commit to and yes, I have tried online dating (hate it) and other avenues. Add to that finding a man with whom I have chemistry and actually want to date and…well, you can hopefully understand my frustration. I get hit on by married men and much younger guys who aren’t at the same stage of their life, but most of the other men I come into contact with are already taken or, if they are single, they are more interested in instant gratification and casual sex and disinterested in having a committed relationship. I don’t fault them for it, but I want something bigger, deeper, and more fulfilling! I’m aware that serious relationships aren’t made overnight but I yearn to find someone who, like me, sees it as an end goal.

New York is too big, too fast, too loud, too impersonal, too much sometimes and it is so easy to get lost. There must be true “catches” out there who would love to meet a woman like me but I don’t know how to find him, how to get his attention and how to connect.

This is where you come in (yes YOU). I need your help. Do you know a man who meets the general criteria listed below?

35-50 (generally)
Lives in tri-state (NY/NJ/CT) area preferably
Physically attractive and fit


If you (yes YOU) know someone who fits the above description (everything else comes down to chemistry) who you consider a catch, I would love to hear from you (or him). If your introduction leads to an actual date, regardless of ultimate outcome, I will name a character in my next book after you! I am not interested in serial dating and will only go out with someone if he sincerely interests me, so be selective! As anxious as I am to find the “the one”, I will never be with someone merely to avoid being alone.

If he requires more information about me, he can read my blogs or simply ask me. A Google Image search will bring up lots of pictures too.


There was a time, probably not too long ago, when I would have been way too embarrassed to put myself out there in this manner. Each man I have dated in the past few years has taught me so much about what I want, need, and deserve in a relationship, and the fact that I am comfortable asking for help is indicative of how ready I truly am! I vowed to write my own happy ending and I’m starting here. Why should my characters have all of the fun?


Like to party? Hop along the Hump Day Blog Hop on Julie Valerie’s Book Blog. Click here to return to the Hump Day Blog Hop.


Did you know that June 8th is National Best Friends Day?

My friends, especially my best friends, make me laugh, lend me an ear when I need to talk, accept me for who I am, trust me with their secrets, and generally make my world a better place to live. So, in honor of best friends everywhere, I have decided to host a giveaway.

Up for grabs is a free ecopy of Blogger Girl (mobi or epub file) for the first ten people to do the following:

1. Like my Facebook Author page: (If you’re already a fan, great!)
2. Post a picture with your best friend on my Facebook Author page
3. Tag your best friend in the picture
4. Comment on my blog that you have done the above and include the email address where you want the book sent and the preferred format.

It’s that simple!! If you already own a copy of the book, I can send one to your BFF!

I will leave you with a short excerpt of Blogger Girl—a scene between my main character Kim and her BFF Bridget:

“Should I call him, Bridge?” While awaiting her response, I took a sip of my drink.
She took a gulp of hers and said, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
I pinched my bottom lip with my thumb and pointer finger. “You sure?”
“I’m positive. He brought it up twice!”
“Actually, he brought it up once,” I said, rubbing my ear. “I brought it up the second time, although he did respond with an enthusiastic, ‘definitely.’ Either way, it doesn’t mean he’s interested. What if he’s placed me squarely in the ‘friend’ zone and I’m making more of this than there is? What if he starts talking about Mary Jones, the beach bombshell? And even if he does make a move on me, meeting him after a high school reunion sounds a bit more ‘booty call’ than ‘date’ anyway.” I had a million more “what ifs” occupying my brain space.
Bridget took a drag of her cigarette. “I’m not even going to bother to respond to the ‘friend zone’ comment. No guy would ask a ‘friend’ to meet for drinks late on a Saturday night.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that would be kind of weird. But what about the other stuff?”
After putting out her cigarette, Bridget reached out and gently patted my leg. “First of all, if he was dating Mary Jones seriously, he probably would not be meeting another girl for drinks on a Saturday night. And second of all, meeting him for a drink doesn’t mean you have to sleep with him.”
I gave her a look. “Not sure I’d have the self-control to resist him!”
“I bet a bout of crabs would solve that problem,” Bridget laughed. “But seriously, you’re better off finding out what he’s after sooner than later. You need to know for sure so you can get on with it or move on.” Bridget paused. “Unless…”
I swallowed hard. “Unless what?” I asked as her buzzer rang.
Bridget stood up and walked into her foyer. Into the intercom on her wall, she said, “Yeah?” and released her finger.
“It’s Jonathan.”
“Come on up,” she said. Then she looked at me with an eyebrow raised. “Unless you’re planning to hook up with Jonathan.”

Me and my best friend for life at her wedding.

Me and my best friend for life at her wedding.


My friends supporting me and my books!

My friends supporting me and my books!