A few weeks ago, I was in New Orleans and stayed at the historic Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarter.  Big name writers like William Faulkner, Tennessee Williams, Ernest Hemingway, Eudora Welty, and Truman Capote used to stay at this hotel. They liked to hang out in the hotel’s famous Carousel Bar, which was renovated late last year.  Clearly there is something about the Carousel Bar that is good for writers.  The cynical among you will be thinking it’s alcohol.  You have a point. 

But so do those of you who claim they were enchanted by the whimsy of a working carousel and pricey drinks.  Since my name is rarely mentioned in the same sentence as Faulkner, Williams, Hemmingway, Welty, and Capote, I knew I had to spend some time at the revolving bar.  For the good of my career.

I don’t spend a lot of time in bars, spinning or otherwise, so once I eliminate anything with tequila or absinthe, I generally order drinks according to how they’re garnished.  Anything in a coconut shell with a flower is great.  Extra points if the shell is carved into a face.  One umbrella is good, two are even better.  A metallic fountain cocktail pick spearing a bunch of fruit is right up there.  The Carousel Bar has none of these, but they did have cool swizzle sticks.  They also have incredibly complex drinks that I’d never heard of before.  After much studying of the menu and embarrassing my hubby, who came along (and insists on ordering drinks with tequila and/or absinthe), I ordered a Jazzeraco, which was Barsol Pisco, Gran Classico, simple syrup, fresh orange, and Aztec Chocolate Bitters.

The embarrassing part was when I Googled Barsol Pisco on my phone while sitting at the bar.  It’s a brandy from Peru.   Hubby ordered a Corpse Reviver #2.  That one has Tanqueray Gin, Cointreau, Lillet Blanc, Absinthe, and fresh lemon juice.  They tasted very jazzy and, er, reviving.

The next night, I ordered a Eudora’s Purple Hat in honor of Eudora Welty.  People watched as the bartender began running around the middle section of the carousel to find the ingredients which are:  Ketel One Citroen, fresh lemon juice, Crème de Violet, Black Raspberry Liqueur, simple syrup, and egg white.  Yes, the white of an egg.  “The lemon juice cooks it,” says the bartender.  I’ll pretend I believe that.  I think it was the sound of the egg cracking that brought all conversation to a halt.  Except for us.

“What is he doing with that?” hubby asks.  “Putting it in my drink.  It’ll make a froth.”  Another egg cracks.  “Two of them?” he asks me.  “No.  That’s going in your drink.”  Hubby has ordered (with a straight face) a London Fairy consisting of Bombay Sapphire, Lucid Absinthe, fresh lime juice, pineapple juice, egg white, and simple syrup.  “I’m not supposed to have egg in my drink,” he insists.  I point out the egg white in the drink description.  “But I didn’t know it was going to come from an egg!”

It was actually good and did not taste like raw egg white; however, the drinks blew our dinner budget, so it was lucky that there was some protein in them.

What’s the most exotic drink–alcoholic or non–you’ve ever ordered?  If you checked the Carousel’s menu, what drink would you have chosen?

 

I’m blogging today at Access Romance about my recent family vacation. But here, I thought I’d tell you about my girl time—the five-day summer party officially billed as the Romance Writers of America national conference but what I like to call my personal summer camp.

It’s so much fun to hang out with my romance writer friends and meet new readers every year. My good friend, Love Inspired author Renee Ryan, led the First Timers Orientation this year and she had a really fun analogy for a writer’s first time at RWA. She talked about the conference at large as the cool sorority and the other first timers were your pledge class. That each year you attend RWA, you look for your sisters who rushed along with you, cheering on their successes and commiserating on the bumps in the road. You share your journey with those folks, and it’s all the more fun for having a few BFFs around. Together, you become the cool sorority, squealing in the halls to see each other once a year at your personal summer camp. I loved that idea. To me, RWA is exactly like that.

Renee, for example, was in my pledge class. So was SIM author Beth Cornelison and Desire author Catherine Mann, my critique partner. Other classes close to me included Tanya Michaels, Winnie Griggs and Anna DeStefano, friends I seek out faithfully every year.

And we do more than just gab it up. We sign books to raise money that supports a literacy initiative. We teach workshops for aspiring writers to share what we know and attend workshops to learn from our peers. Oh, and we dance.

Summer camp isn’t summer camp without a glitzy party after all. The RITA and Golden Heart ceremony is our fun excuse to dress up and the publisher parties provide our opportunity to shake our collective groove thing. I’ve discovered Blaze authors Wendy Etherington and Jacquie D’Alessandro are just as committed to the dance floor as me, so I like to hunt them down once the music starts hopping.

I think every woman should have a summer camp – your personalized version of the sorority reunion. Whether it’s a handful of high school friends or the crowd from your book club, you owe yourself a retreat weekend to celebrate friendship and a common interest. Don’t have a big budget? You can tent it down by the lake for a night and share a few bottles of cheap champagne. I guarantee you’ll come home happier!

**You know what I’m talking about…. girlfriends speak a different language than our significant others! What’s been one of your favorite friend-dates? Ladies’ poker night? Neighborhood bunco? Chat with me on the boards today about fav ways to hang out with friends and I’ll give one random poster a signed copy of my August relese, Double Play.