Look, Ma, I'm on TV!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Tomorrow, I'm going to be filming a segment for "Bill Green's Maine", a popular local-features show hosted by Portland's WCSH. It's not my first time on TV -- heck, it's not even my first time on WCSH -- but every time someone snaps on those klieg lights and hooks a miniature mike to my blouse, I get nervous. Am I dressed okay? Will I sound like an idiot (vocally)? Will I sound like an idiot (content)? What if the light bounces off my glasses? Will I remember to stay on point? And don't even get me started on how I obsessively check my teeth to make sure there's nothing stuck in there.

My first televised appearance was on a local access channel in Montgomery, Alabama. They were featuring the dance school I attended, and all the tap dancers appeared together. I was four, with wild, bushy hair and no front teeth (knocked out in a skating accident.) I was, as my mother tactfully reminisces, "a very enthusiastic tap dancer." They put me in the back row, with all the teenagers in front of me.

In the years since, you could have caught me on the tube as part of a chorale, doing a brief number from a college musical, and being interviewed (with several other parents) on the closing our my kids' school. And, of course, these meet-the-author segments on the local news or interest shows. While I've never actually had spinach on my teeth, or forgotten the title of my latest book, I've never been completely at ease, either. And I always watch the resulting footage with a kind of horrified fascination: do I really look like that? Does my voice really sound like that? (Yes, and yes.)

How about you, Reds? And yes, I know this question is unfair to Hank, who could write an entire memoir about her career in front of the cameras (let's hope she does!) What was your first time like? Your best? Your worst? (Aren't you glad I'm asking this about TV and not some other topic?)

RHYS BOWEN: I used to work for the BBC so I'm comfortable around studios and have done my share in front of a mike or a camera. A lot depends on the interviewer. If he or she makes me comfortable then I'm fine. My worst memory? A day time show in Texas. I did my segment, sitting on my high stool, then the host said "Stick around, Rhys--we've got a fabulous chef coming next." So I was stuck on that stool while a guy made spaghetti sauce and then.... he handed me a plate of spaghetti to eat ON CAMERA... IN A WHITE BLOUSE. Now I've always been a little disaster prone and a messy eater. So I pretended. Lifted one tiny strand to my lips and made lip smacking noises and survived.

LUCY BURDETTE: Rhys, that's an amazing story--I've been followed and preceded by food segments, but never, ever asked to eat:). My worst was probably the first time I was interviewed about one of my golf mysteries. In addition to being hysterically nervous, I was extremely worried about what to wear, as it would be a live segment taking place at a golf tournament. I finally chose a nice green silk Hawaiian shirt. They perched me up on a stool in an open air makeshift studio overlooking the driving range.

"You'll be speaking with the anchors who are back in Hartford," the tech told me. "So be sure to look at the camera, not at the monitor."

Not only did my lovely green shirt blend in completely with the grass so just my disembodied head showed up, but my eyes must have darted to that monitor a hundred times during the short piece. Looked like I'd forgotten to take my medication that morning...

I've gotten better the more I do--and now I try to channel Hank whenever I'm headed to a studio:).

ps Julia, I bet you were adorable in that dance recital!

JULIA: Just like Shirley Temple. Except for the hair. And the talent.

JAN BROGAN: My most memorable TV experience? I once did a column for Ladies Home Journal and they flew me out to LA to be on Hour Magazine with Gary Collins. I was twenty-nine, I think. Like Julia, I was in early dance recitals - about ten of them, so I think the only lasting benefit was that I feel comfortable on any stage. Even, frankly, when I shouldn't (have I ever told you I sang in front of 1000 people?) Back to TV, one of the things I remember most -outside of how everyone told me to wear red - was how absolutely awesome you look with all that makeup on. I mean -- they spackle you a whole new face. I knew I'd never look that good again in my life so I got a cabbie to give me a tour of LA and he got me into some fancy restaurant - Spagos? I think that's what it was. I didn't see a single celebrity, but the doorman tried to convince me he was Bruce Willis's brother. Yeah, right.

HALLIE EPHRON: Jan, they FLEW YOU OUT TO LA? Boy has the magazine business changed...

What freaks me out now is that TV is high-definition. Which means that all the spackle they trowel onto your face looks like...spackle.

I've done a lot of TV. My last TV experience was cozy and sweet, if taping a TV show can ever be that, with the gracious Connie Spiros on her local cable TV program Meet Me in the Kitchen. One camera, filming in my tiny kitchen. It was so much fun, and I wore the apron my daughter made for me when she was in junior high (teddy bears on a white background). I made potato pancakes for Chanukah. Plus a pot roast. Great fun, but I wish I'd had my make up and hair done. It's embarrassing.

LUCY: Oh boy Hallie, wish I'd been there for that one! Our own Jungle Red Julia Child...

DEBORAH CROMBIE: While I've managed to get fairly comfortable with public speaking over the years (I was one of those people who would rather DIE than stand up in front of an audience) I've just hated myself on video. Local cable access shows, interviews in bookstores, one awful short bit shot here in London by Pan Macmillan with a handheld cam and no mike, on location in Notting Hill. The content is not too bad but I looked TERRIBLE! I don't like my voice and I have some really irritating mannerisms when I get nervous.

So the book-trailer video shoot I did in Henley on Thursday was a big deal for me. Professional make-up, thank God, because I'd had about four hours of sleep and looked like death--and a really good professional camera man. We did an hour interview with good lighting and sound, then went out and walked around Henley all day. I'll probably be horrified when I actually see myself but I had a ball doing it.

ROSEMARY HARRIS: Please don't make me!! The last time I looked normal on television I was about four and on a kids show called Wonderama. I have no idea what I did and mercifully no footage remains. It's a given that I think I look way older and heavier than I am - it's the obsessive blinking that bothers me. I don't ever think I'm nervous but what else can explain the frantic blinking. I also seem to nod my head a lot. Very attractive.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Um, the time I tripped over a cat in a live shot? And then almost knocked over the light?

Or how about this: In the olden days (like, 10 years ago) prompter copy was on paper. And the script pages would be scotch-taped together and put on, like, a conveyor belt, which would be in front of the camera. So you could read it and look at the camera at the same time. But because it was so labor intensive, we'd make reusable "evergreen" pages, with things like "Toss to weather."

One day I was filling in for anchorwoman Kate Sullivan. Live TV, remember. As the pre-printed "goodnight" pages rolled into place, my co-anchor read: "Good Night, everyone, I'm RD Sahl." And I read what exactly was on the prompter: "And I'm Kate Sullivan."


JULIA : Oh, Hank. Oh, well. It all turned out fine, I'm sure. As for you others, I'm so happy to find out I'm not the only one who feels less-than-natural in front of a camera. How about you, readers? Are you local-access only, or ready for high-definition?

STICKY TOFFEE PUDDING

DEBORAH CROMBIE: The first time I had Sticky Toffee Pudding was in London, at the Oriel Brasserie in Sloane Square. A very English desert for such a French restaurant, but oh, my, I was hooked. They served it warm (as it should be) with a swirl of toffee sauce and a dollop of creme fraiche (and I still think the slight tanginess of the creme fraiche makes the perfect foil for the sweet, steamed cake.)

Alas, the Oriel took the Sticky Toffee off the menu, and now the Oriel itself is gone, a victim of redevelopment. I've had many Sticky Toffees since, but am still looking for one to compare.

Nor have I made it, as the recipes always seemed a bit overwhelming, but here is one that I'm definitely going to try, from the gloriously English Nigella Lawson. Apologies for the metric measurements, but if you go to the recipe on Nigella's web page, there's a handy conversion table. (Oh, and muscovado sugar is dark, raw sugar, so a good US equivalent would probably be Succanat.)

Enjoy!

Ingredients

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FOR THE CAKE:

• 100g dark muscovado sugar
• 175g self-raising flour
• 125ml full-fat milk
• 1 egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 50g unsalted butter, melted
• 200g chopped, rolled dates

FOR THE SAUCE:

• 200g dark muscovado sugar
• Approx. 25g unsalted butter in little blobs
• 500ml boiling water

Method

Serves: 6-8.

1. Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5 and butter a 11/2-litre capacity pudding dish.
2. Combine the 100g dark muscovado sugar with the flour in a large bowl. Pour the milk into a measuring jug, beat in the egg, vanilla and melted butter and then pour this mixture over the sugar and flour, stirring - just with a wooden spoon - to combine. Fold in the dates then scrape into the prepared pudding dish. Don't worry if it doesn't look very full: it will do by the time it cooks.
3. Sprinkle over the 200g dark muscovado sugar and dot with the butter. Pour over the boiling water (yes really!) and transfer to the oven. Set the timer for 45 minutes, though you might find the pudding needs 5 or 10 minutes more. The top of the pudding should be springy and spongy when it's cooked; underneath, the butter, dark muscovado sugar and boiling water will have turned into a rich, sticky sauce. Serve with vanilla ice cream, creme fraiche, double or single cream as you wish.

SMOKE-FREE FICTION

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Whenever I go to England, I realize I live a very insulated, smoke-free life at home in Texas. I am a non-smoker. No one smokes in my family (my husband quit a year ago, thank goodness, and even when he smoked, he never smoked in the house, in the car, or in public places.) No one is ever allowed, on pain of death, to smoke in my car, and when I go out it's usually to smoke-free shops and restaurants.

So it's always a bit of shock to be thrown into the midst of very public London, where people smoke on the streets, and there is a whole new culture of pavement-smoking outside restaurants, pubs, and clubs. Suddenly I have to remind myself that at least some characters in my books should smoke. This is not so much a matter of approval or disapproval, but simply that as a non-smoker, smoking doesn't occur to me.

While certainly bad for one's health, smoking has always provided a nice "bit of business", both on the page and screen. It's something for your characters to do while they have a conversation (other than drink endless cups of tea.) It can convey an emotional state such as agitation or nonchalance, or give subtle insights into character (I've loved Sergeant Hathaway's attempts to give up smoking in the recent episodes of Lewis), class, or background. (Think James Bond here...) Camel or Silk Cut? Does the smoker carelessly put out the stubs in old cups of coffee, or tamp them out and tuck them away in a plastic baggie?

And with many of the popular retro shows like Mad Men, or The Hour (I've yet to see if they will smoke on Pan Am, but am horrified to remember that people actually used to smoke on airplanes!) smoking is once again being shown in a glamorous light (excuse the pun.)

As a reader, I like to play a little guessing game about whether or not the writer is a smoker--if almost every character in a novel smokes, I'm inclined to think the writer (I could name a few) does, too. But at the moment, I'm halfway through Felix Francis's new novel, Gamble, and I've just realized that not a single character has been seen smoking. I'd be willing to bet (excuse another pun) that Felix Francis does not.

So what about you, Jungle Reds? Do your characters indulge? And should they?


JAN BROGAN: I think the characters should smoke if you think that's part of who they are. I had a teenager in Teaser smoking because I thought that's what she'd be doing and I wanted my reporter Hallie Ahern to show she had good getting-people-to-talk skills by allowing the young girl to smoke in her car even though it was driving her out of her mind.

I'm thinking of setting my next novel in southern France, where at least half the French characters must smoke.

DEBS: Yes, the French and the Italians are all big smokers, but the red wine and olive oil probably keep them from getting cancer . . .

HALLIE EPHRON: I'm writing a novel in which the main character's dysfunctional alcoholic mother smokes. As Jan says, it's essential to the character.

It's pretty astounding how much public has changed about smoking. My husband brought home a "Rugged Men" magazine from the 50s. It's a real period piece, soft porn and enlightening article, like "Let's Get Rid of the Girls Who Shake Their Cans" by Dunwoodie Hall. In it there's an article that dismisses the "health scares" of smoking and concludes, "Thus, it can literally be said, 'Smoke--And live longer!'"

ROSEMARY HARRIS: I've had a few characters smoke, but no main characters. If they're going to die, I'd rather kill them off in my own way.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Huh!Not to give anything way, but you've made me realize that the people in my books who smoke--are the bad guys!

(I tried smoking in college. Once. ONCE! My best friend Hallie (a different Hallie!) and I shopped for the coolest package. Montclair, navy blue with a gold crest. I took one puff at age 17, choked, tipped over the ashtray onto my bedspread, burned a hole in the blanket and that was the end of that.)

The good part about people smoking in books--it give them something to do, you know? And it can be very dramatic, a la Bette Davis.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I've just realized that I've had exactly one smoker in my books - and that was because it was necessary for the plot. I'm like you, Deb, never smoked, no one in my family or circle of friends smoke, so it rarely crosses my mind. Since smokers tend to fall into a few distinct groups nowadays, I think having a cigarette-user makes more of a statement about the character than it once might have. We have the 80-year-old Dan Drapers and Joan Holloways who haven't died off yet. Young people still light up for the same reasons they always did - smoking is way down in high schools but on the upswing on college campuses. And increasingly cigarette smoking is a class marker, with a sharp divide in smoking rates between socioeconomic and education levels.

This has definitely given me food for thought! I'm going to go back over my current work-in-progress and see who might profitably be made a nicotine fiend.

DEBS: Interesting, Julia. Yes, there are beginning to be class issues associated with smoking, but one can't make blanket assumptions. My husband fought a forty-year battle with nicotine addiction--and I do mean BATTLE. We learned some very interesting things when he was finally able to quit (we certainly hope for good.) One is that there are take-it-or-leave-it smokers. I was one. I smoked in my teens and gave it up at twenty without a bit of bother. And there are some for whom nicotine addiction is worse, and harder to kick, than heroin. It apparently has to do with the difference in the chemical receptors in people's brains. The same seems to be true for alcohol addiction, except that the take-it-or-leave-it percentage is much greater for alcohol than for nicotine. It's much, much easier to be a social or occasional drinker than an occasional smoker.

So all food for thought, and for creating interesting characters.