Autumn has charmed a hive of bees, wrangled a flock of geese, and filched a stick of dynamite from the U.S. Government. But it’ll take a whole new kind of gumption to save her Cades Cove home.
Wanna see the book trailer? Click here! Until then, welcome, Kristin! Grab some coffee, get comfy in the beautician’s chair, and let’s get down to the gossip.
Okay, what’s the most regrettable hairstyle you’ve ever had?
Oh, lawsy, I’ve had every hairstyle in the book (long, short, permed, straight, and a myriad of colors). With that much experimentation, I can say I’ve had several regrettable styles. I had that whole asymmetrical cut thang going on in the 80s – short on my right side, long on my left. Sheesh. I’ve permed hair that was all one length, and subsequently wound up with triangle head. And once, I went from having hair to the middle of my back to short-short in one cut. But I think the stylist must’ve wigged out a little (no pun intended!) chopping off all that hair, and decided to leave these long tendril-like things hugging my neckline, a la Carol Brady. That night when I got home, my sister Kathy said, “No. Unh-unh. Sit.” And she chopped off the tendrils then and there. It was a much better cut after that.
Ever had a major hair or salon disaster?
Absolutely. A year or so after my daughter was born, I decided I wanted to change things up a bit and Go Red. I’m naturally a dirty blonde (I think? Who knows anymore?), so my stylist really heaped on the color, telling me that a lot of it would wash out in the next day or so. I didn’t have anywhere to go, did I? No – I was a writer and a stay-at-home mom; Walgreen’s was as exotic an outing as could be expected. My hair was red-red – like fire. Like lipstick. Like paint.
When I got home, there was a message from my dad. My grandmother had passed away that morning. (She was 100 years old, so I promise not to make this into a sad tale!) I had to leave the next morning to make the funeral. There I stood, the harlot in the receiving line, with my hair glowing like the Exit sign above my head. The good news? It made my dad (and several others) laugh on a day when laughing wasn’t really expected!
How long have you been with your current stylist and what are your appointment conversations like—chatty and personal, or quiet and professional?
My current stylist is Barbara Presson at Salon Cappelli in Franklin, TN. I’ve been with Barbara for five or six years now, and I’ve hopped salons four times to stay in her chair. Our conversations are chatty and personal – she always asks about my next book, and I always ask her about her two sons. Getting a haircut is so therapeutic, I can’t help but spill my guts as I watch all those dead ends fan out on the floor mat. And it’s far cheaper than psychiatry!
Here’s your Hypothetical Questions of the Week:
HQ #1: You magically find a $100.00 bill in your box of cereal. In what frivolous way would you spend it?
Jewelry! The bigger and cheaper, the better.
HQ #2: TV execs are offering you a spot on a new reality show for writers. Do you say yes? If so, how would you be portrayed? (i.e. the boss, whiner, bore, paranoid-wreck, etc.?) Sure, I’d say yes – what fun! I’d likely be portrayed as the Pollyanna: “Gosh, it’ll be okay! I know your best friend just stabbed you in the back to land that writing contract, but look at the bright side – he might get carpal tunnel!” I wouldn’t last very long on a cutthroat program.
HQ #3: Paparazzi are stalking you, looking for shots of odd things authors do while writing. What do they catch you doing, hmm?
They’d catch me plucking cat hairs from between the keys of my keyboard. I do it whenever I get stuck on an idea. My cats’ hair is magical; it can weasel its way into a closed laptop and lodge itself in the tiniest of crevices in my computer. If I could somehow spin cat hair into best sellers, I’d be John Grisham.
HQ #4: If I asked the members of your critique group who you’re most like when critiquing manuscripts, would they choose Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul or Simon Cowell?
I’d like to say Randy Jackson (fair but valuable feedback), but I’m probably more like Paula Abdul – did I mention I’m a bit of a Pollyanna? Crit group – are you listening? Wanna chime in?
HQ #5: If you followed the career path you chose for yourself in high school, what would you be doing for a living now?
“Writing the Great American Novel.” The proof is in my yearbook.
The Lightening Round—no more than two words per answer!
Do you . . .
Outline or wing it? Both.
Talk about works-in-progress, or keep your trap shut? Talky talk!
Sell by proposal or completed draft? Completed draft.
Love to edit or cringe at the thought? Love it!
Prefer writing a new book or marketing the old? Writing new.
Write better at home or in a coffee shop? Coffee buzz!
Read your released book or no, I’ve read it enough? No, thanks!
And finally, what’s your favorite . . .
Time to write? Late afternoon.
Movie? They still make those?
Book? A Wrinkle In Time
Author? Madeleine L’Engle
Song? Twinkle, twinkle little star (rating based on frequency heard in my home)
Pair of shoes? Grey slouchy boots
Guiltiest pleasure? Zappos.com
Line from a movie? “And this paddle game. The ashtray and the paddle game and that’s all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that’s all I need. And these matches…”
Thanks for stopping by, Kristin, and best of luck with Autumn Winifried Oliver does things different! And okay, your favorite line sounds so familiar but I can’t figure out which movie it’s from. Any guesses, anyone?
I’m off to vote!! 🙂