The Diet Stops Here (Wait! I mean it starts here!) by Jenny Gardiner

First and foremost, never, ever, ever give away your fat clothes. I say this while sporting my current uniform: a grungy 20-year old Penn State sweatshirt and once generously stretchy yet now extremely stingy yoga pants that haven’t, alas, been donned for their true purpose in ages.

My other uniform consists of a black shirt and jeans. Black because it’s slimming. Ish. Or so they say. And stretchy jeggings, to be exact. Thank the lord for tender mercies (i.e. stretchable cotton). Though I was probably better off in the more punitive Levi’s of yore, which kept me honest, size-wise (that is until I could no longer wedge myself into them, and then so much for that honesty, eh?).

A couple of years ago I got, well, not skinny, but more mainstream, size-wise. Skinny hasn’t happened since the Reagan administration (when I had a youthful metabolism, not that of a tree sloth). After slimming down, I waited over a year before donating my voluminous stockpile of fatwear. They were beautiful clothes, too, all styles that helped mask the added weight I was lugging around, sadly. In giving them away, I figured it would be nice if someone in need of them happily found their way into my, um, largesse.

I think the very day I dropped them at Goodwill I gained four pounds. Which brings me to another pointer for this New Year’s resolution-minded message: never, ever, ever, ever stop getting on that damned scale.

Years ago, I’m pretty sure it was during the holidays, when food and wine seem to just jump into my mouth when I’m not looking, a wise, thin friend urged me not to get on the scale every day. “Oh, your weight can fluctuate by several pounds daily!” she assured me. “Just get on once a week.”

So I took this advice to heart. After all, it was from a skinny person. They must know, right? But if you get on the scale one day and weigh two more pounds, well, news flash: wait seven more days and nothing good comes of it. Trust me on this.

My weight has fluctuated so much I should’ve been called Yo-Yo. And not the person who’s great with a violin. The person who can’t seem to stick in a healthy pants size to save her soul, that’s me. This time around it was a tumultuous series of life events that kneecapped me. Not that that’s any excuse, mind you, but hey, I am the first to tell you it is really quite easy to stuff your emotions with food; I’m a pro at it. In fact if there were an advanced degree in it, I’d surely have earned one.

This time around I stupidly doubled down while outgrowing my wardrobe: I bailed on the gym. For pretty much my entire life, no matter how plump I was, I always, always, always worked out. Whether it was with the Jane Fonda record (yes, I’m dating myself with that reference), Tai Bo, P90X, lap-swimming, obsessive amounts of tennis, hiking, spinning. walking, or anything, I always made time for some form of daily exercise.

But then I wasn’t being productive, professionally, failing to get in the writing hours I needed. I was dropping the ball, big time. So I couldn’t justify spending time at the gym. My girlfriend and I were just discussing this gym/work dilemma. Because I get my best work done in the morning. But I also get my best workout done in the morning. That inherent conflict means choosing one over the other (I know, I could technically force myself like the grown-up that I am to do one at an inopportune time of the day, but I haven’t, okay?).

And so I made the grave mistake of bowing out of exercise because I should be writing prolific amounts. But instead I spent a lot of time wrestling with all those stuffed emotions and not doing diddly squat (make that any squats). Occasionally I resumed working out, though didn’t dare show up at the gym because everyone knows you don’t want to be seen at the gym while fat.

I got back on my spinning bike at home, until I had a rather weird spinning accident, requiring 16 stitches on my shin. That was enough to kibosh my biking career for a while. I got back into it later in the summer, even biking one day for about 36 miles, which was really fun since we didn’t get hit by any cars, but still, I was feeling guilty for not getting work done. So I have holed up for the past few months writing. The good news: I’ve got my writing mojo back. The bad news: I shudder to witness my reflection in a plate glass window and cringe to see pictures of myself. For sure ain’t no selfie-taking going on for me (while dressed in slimming black).

I imagined my zaftig brethren this holiday season wearing my really pretty hot pink raw silk jacket, or that sparkly sequin top, and all those many outfits I gave away, while instead I jammed myself sausage-like into a stretch black velvet pantsuit that somehow escaped my closet purge. I refuse to buy more fat clothes, as it feels like I’m abandoning ship, figuring thin me is a thing of the past. But with my oversized clothes shrinking (they are just shrinking, right?), where to next? I don’t want to be Admiral Perry navigating the unchartered territory of what to do once the fat clothes don’t fit.

But new beginnings can start at any time. Sure it feels cliché for that to be with the new year. But now’s as good a time as any, so here’s hoping I’ll eventually be able to give away my latest wardrobe, even though they’re not even cute, just functional. Wish me luck.

The first of my IT'S REIGNING MEN series was just released: SOMETHING IN THE HEIR. Here's the cover (alongside the covers for books two and three in the series--more to come!)

 

and some time soon I'm going to reissue Anywhere but Here---I'll keep you posted.

Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

Slim to None

Anywhere But Here

Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me

Accidentally on Purpose (written as Erin Delany)

Compromising Positions (written as Erin Delany)

I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in this Relationship (I'm a contributor)

And these shorts:
Idol Worship: A Lost Week with the Weirdos and Wannabes at American Idol Auditions

The Gall of It All: And None of the Three F's Rhymes with Duck

Naked Man On Main Street

find me on Facebook: fan page
find me on twitter here
find me on my website

Christina Hollis: Food, Glorious Food...

Venus of Willendorf, by Matthias Kabel

Poet Philip Larkin had strong views on parenting. If you don't know This Be The Verse you can read it here, but be warned. There's strong language right from the start, as they say on the BBC.

I knew I was in trouble from the moment I could tell Mama from Dada. They were both healthy, active people but while my mother was permanently on a diet she was never anything less than...er...substantial. In contrast, my father ate like a horse, yet was built like a greyhound. You can guess which traits I inherited from each parent. I love my food. It adores me in return, so I'm in constant danger of turning into the Venus of Willendorf.  I'd love to excuse my weight problem by blaming it on my family, but there comes a time when everyone has to excuse their genes and accept responsibility. But cake is so delicious, and celery's not a comfort food–no matter how you dress it up.

Writing all day doesn't help me. Sitting is fast becoming the new smoking here in England, where we have a real obesity crisis. Strapping my keyboard to the treadmill to make a standing (or walking) desk hasn't been too successful. So what's the answer? In my case, there's no substitute for eating less and moving more. Reducing portion size is horrible.  Using a smaller plate and chewing every mouthful forty times is no substitute for that lovely  "full-up feeling", to quote Lionel Bart's Oliver! again. Driving ten miles to the gym and back eats into writing time, so I had to find a different exercise regime, that fitted in with my lifestyle. In theory I use my non-electric treadmill to jog for twenty minutes every other day, but sometimes that's just too much like hard work.

Wearing a pedometer helps, as I have a competitive streak. During an uninterrupted writing day, I'm lucky to clock up 2,000 steps. That only burns about 24 calories, according to my pedometer. On the bright side, that would earn me all the celery I could eat. Knowing how hard it is to "earn" treats is a powerful incentive to keep my step-count going.

Venue-The School Run

The school run is a non-negotiable part of my day, so I've tried adding exercise into it. Every morning in term-time, I have a quick walk by the river after dropping Son Number One and his huge haul of books at the bus stop. Then in the evenings, I power-walk the two miles from home to the bus stop (4,100 steps, btw)  and meet up with OH. He drives there after finishing work in the city, to give both me and Son Number One a lift back to the house. It's a lovely area for walking when the weather's good, and the view from the bus stop is pretty stunning, don't you think?

Smaller portions and more exercise has kept my weight stable for several months now. To actually lose weight, I'd have to cut down on food still more and run harder, too. The trouble is, exercise makes me hungry and fills me with a gnawing sense of entitlement ("I got up in the dark and did all that running in the cold. I'm entitled to another slice/chunk/handful!") Increasing it can only make things worse,  which means temptation will be ten times harder to resist. All things in moderation–including moderation!

And my children cook like this...

I love cooking as well as eating, and include recipes in my occasional newsletters. Taste and satisfaction feature more often than low-calorie this, or fat-free that. As long as you watch the size of your portions and go easy on other treats for a while, what's not to love? My next newsletter's going to feature Roasted Pumpkin Soup, which went down a storm at our local Harvest Festival. To find out how to make it, you can sign up here. What's your favorite tip for healthy living?

Christina Hollis writes both contemporary and historical fiction–when she isn't cooking, gardening or beekeeping. Her books have been translated into over a dozen different languages, and she’s sold nearly three million books worldwide. You can catch up with her at http://www.christinahollis.blogspot.com,on Twitter and Facebook, and see a full list of her published books at http://www.christinahollis.com

SLIM TO NONE is here!

by Jenny Gardiner:

Hey all! I haven't even put this up on my website yet but I HAVE ANOTHER BOOK OUT!!! The title is SLIM TO NONE and details follow, as well as a sneak peek of chapter one.

This one I've put out in a different sort of way--it's exclusive on Kindle (though you can also get it through the Kindle app for iPad and iPhone as well as for download to your PC) till July, then will be available unlimited for all e-readers and as a POD (publish on demand) through Ingram's, one of the major book distributors. My literary agency launched a digital imprint and I decided to put this book up with the debut of the line. I LOVE this book and know that you will too!!

Here's the premise:

In SLIM TO NONE, Abbie Jennings is Manhattan's top food critic until her expanding waistline makes staying incognito at restaurants impossible. Her cover blown on Page Six of the New York Post, her editor has no choice but to bench her—and suggest she use the time off to bench-press her way back to anonymity. Abbie’s life has been built around her career, and therefore around celebrating food. Forced to drop the pounds if she wants her primo gig back, Abbie must peel back the layers of her past and confront the fears that have led to her current life.

I loved the idea of taking this character who has to eat for a living and then make her not be able to eat in order to continue being able to eat for a living. You got that? The book is funny, sweet and poignant and I really hope my readers will be able to get hold of an e-reader to check this out!!

Here are some author blurbs on it:

With a strong yet delightfully vulnerable voice, food critic Abbie Jennings embarks on a soulful journey where her love for banana cream pie and disdain for ill-fitting Spanx clash in hilarious and heartbreaking ways. As her body balloons and her personal life crumbles, Abbie must face the pain and secret fears she’s held inside for far too long. I cheered for her the entire way.

—Beth Hoffman, bestselling author of Saving CeeCee Honeycutt

Satisfying as a Thanksgiving dinner at Mom's. ... Jenny Gardiner's heroine gives us a sarcastic but provocative look at our love-hate relationship with food. You'll eat this up in one sitting.

Ad Hudler, bestselling author of Househusband and Man of the House

Jenny Gardiner has done it again - this fun, fast-paced book is a great summer read.

Sarah Pekkanen, author of The Opposite of Me

And check out a sneak peak of the first chapter on my blog