Susan Joy Clark
I am a former journalist with North Jersey Media Group and an indie author of several books including Action Men with Silly Putty, a mystery comedy, And the Violin Cried, a juvenile novel, and The Journey of Digory Mole, a picture book.
Romantic Looks from Past Times
Once upon a time, before Wikipedia and before (gasp) even the Internet, my favorite section of the encyclopedia was an article on clothing that featured full color illustrations of fashions through the ages. By now, the fashions current then, at the time of my encyclopedia perusal, are, if not exactly historical, at least vintage. This interest in clothing of the past has stuck with me until today.
Awkward Moments with the Disabled
One of my favorite sitcoms, The King of Queens, seems to center its humor on social faux pas. There were many times watching that show – such as when Doug and Carrie go to great lengths to make sure they get credit for their donation to the school library – that I wanted to cringe and hide in shame. I did this even though I was not involved in the situation, and the situation was purely fictional.
Trixie, The Abandoned Dog Who Found Us in the Woods
We didn't plan for Trixie. We didn't plan for a dog at all. We planned for a cat, and we only planned for a cat, because we had good friends who couldn't keep him, because they had a few too many. A stray cat they were helping had had a litter of kittens.
You Can Pig Out at The Committed Pig
The Committed Pig restaurant name -- actually The Committed Pig Burger and Pancake House -- brings up many questions. Is the "pig" for pork products on the menu or for the patrons who will surely want to eat a lot? It's almost as mysterious as trying to figure out a band name like, say, The Smashing Pumpkins.
Made For Each Other
I sat in my Honda in the parking lot outside the Luna y Stelle Ristorante and took a long, deep breath. The butterflies in my stomach must have been gymnasts and aerialists having a circus down there. Two weeks ago, I had met Joe online on Soulmates.com, but this was the first time we would meet in person.
The Fiery Object
“My uncle is dead,” I announced as I came into the room. Jack, my roommate, was kneeling in front of our coffee table and staring at a series there of three Newton's cradles. He turned to look at me. “You seem awfully broken up. I see how it affected your appetite.”