“Molly Campbell writes with style, intelligence, and wit—oh, the wit! She has a unique way of spinning her observations of everyday life into little gems that oftentimes read like short stories. If you’re looking for some levity with smarts, read Molly’s blog. But don’t have a mouthful of coffee when you do because it just might wind up on your monitor!”
Beth Hoffman, New York Times bestselling author of Saving CeeCee Honeycutt 

Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on



Fall in Ohio is lovely, with the foliage, all the Halloween decorations displayed on porches, the hayrides, and the pumpkin spice everything, I have always loved the Fall. Then something happened to almost ruin everything. You know what I am talking about if you live on the Eastern side of the US: the crapulous Stinkbug.

It came over here from Asia on a container ship, I heard. And it proceeded to spread far and wide. I think before long it will be all over America. And here is the thing: if it stayed outside, I would be fine with it, despite the fact that it devastates some crop or other–I am not a farmer, so I can be cavalier about that. It doesn’t like the cold (see Asia, above), and so it manages to show up in large numbers all over my house as the temps drop. It can crawl in from the tiniest crack, apparently.

Stinkbugs fly. They drone like bumblebees. They are the size of dimes, and they land on things like windowsills, curtains, crown molding, and here’s the thing: my glasses frames while I am sitting minding my own business. And they scare the holy Hell out of me.

They smell bad.

And when I am in bed with the lights out, and I hear that telltale droning, I imagine one landing on my eyelids, my mouth, or crawling into my ear. It is absolutely terrifying.

The internet is rife with solutions, but let me tell you, I have tried them all, and none of them work. That half-liter soda bottle with the LED light? Totally  ineffective. Soapy water? Maybe, if you want to spend all of your time walking around your house holding a spray bottle. Poison spray? It doesn’t really permeate their armor-like exteriors, and it is dangerous to pets.

So what do you do? You catch them with a Kleenex and flush them, while using any profanities you wish, because all niceties can be ignored when dealing with stinkbugs. I prefer using the F word as a prefix to my maternal parent, if you catch my drift.

If you live in Canada, don’t be smug. They are coming.


Be Sociable, Share!
Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on PLAGUES AND SCOURGES




I am aware that there has been a traumatic upheaval that has shaken all of you to the core. Although I in no way represent the Trump for President campaign, I feel that someone must issue an apology to all of you who are losing your winter coats in vast quantities due to stress. Furballs are at an all-time high, and I have been told that vomiting levels have increased all over America. The following bullet points will serve, I hope, to get you to retract your claws and begin purring once more.

  • Donald Trump was, unfortunately, referring to a part of a woman’s anatomy. For some reason, he thinks that he can grab that. To be perfectly clear, he must never grab that. It’s a crime. Furthermore, I think I am speaking for the entire American feline population in saying that there is not a cat or kitten in this great country of ours that would like to be grabbed by Donald Trump, either.
  • None of you are expected to sit on Donald Trump’s lap, at any time. It has not been made public if the Trumps have any pets, but we feel sure that if Melania and Barron have a Siamese or a Persian, that those kitties are avoiding Donald like the plague and peeing in Donald’s bedroom slippers.
  • Cats of America, you know that you outnumber dogs as the pet of choice in this country. Thus, Mr. Trump picked the wrong group to insult with his lewd commentary. The majority of American cats are not declawed–just saying.
  • We who live with cats apologize to our favorite animals. We want to assure you that we are all in complete agreement with Michelle Obama, and we love you.
  • We also hope that in the weeks left before the election, catnip sales soar.
  • Go forth and scratch some Republicans!
Be Sociable, Share!
Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on OPEN LETTER TO ALL PUSSYCATS



I  am so excited to announce the release date of my next novel, CROSSING THE STREET. It comes out on May 9, 2017. It is the story of a disillusioned writer, her hum-drum life, the eight-year-old girl who becomes her best friend, and their eventful summer together. It has a bitchy sister, a boring boyfriend, a missing cat, and a surprise ending. I hope you will want to run right out and grab one.

So many of my friends have asked me why it took me two years to write the thing. I think most people who read books but don’t write them think “Ok, a writer has an idea. So they (note the use of the new pronoun-he/she is old news) sit down at their computer or grab a legal pad, and start writing. That shouldn’t take long. Maybe a couple of months. What is the big deal about this?”

It is not that simple. First of all, there is the issue of PLOT. Even those well organized authors who spend weeks with post-it notes, special software, white boards or index cards know how absolutely horrible plot lines are. They meander off when the writer least expects it. They start out with a bang and then fizzle out. Characters that were supposed to be “walk-ons” insist on taking over. Nothing goes as planned.

Then, there is the person who actually runs the show: the editor. Editors are those incredibly savvy folks who read one’s manuscript (the one you think you finally got RIGHT) and send it back to you, saying stuff like “This isn’t deep enough.” Or “This character doesn’t ring true, and it seems as if you shoe-horned him in. He doesn’t fit.” Or worse, “I don’t think this story line is working out for you. I think you should remove it.”

I got many comments like that. So I revised. I revised again. And yet again. Meanwhile, my friends said, “Why do you have to keep rewriting it?” I tried to explain. The response was frequently “Can’t you just get another editor?”

Here’s the thing. Every single book worth reading out there has been ripped apart by a talented editor and rewritten by the author. Probably multiple times. Editors don’t get the credit they deserve. I bet many avid readers don’t even realize that the books they are staying up all night to finish have been scrutinized and analyzed by an astute editor multiple times. Hair has been torn out. Expletives have been hurled at the text. Chapters and entire story lines have been deleted. It’s not for the egotistical. Any writer who resists being edited is probably a hack.

So I am thrilled beyond belief that after multiple rewrites, many sleepless nights, and more than one goddamn it, my book is nearing the finish line. All that remains is writing the acknowledgements. This is my reward! That, and typing THE END.


Be Sociable, Share!
Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on AUTHORS R US



It all started with a little art app on my phone. I began to doodle around. It was fun, and I enjoyed posting my pictures on Facebook. My friends liked them, and before long, folks started  slinging around the word “artist” in relation to me. Pffft.

But then a few asked me if I could turn my drawings into note cards and things. For sale. Since my next novel is now with the copy editor, I have time on my hands until closer to publication. So, what the heck, I opened a little online shop. I sell my drawings on things like iPhone cases, tote bags, aprons, trivets, mouse pads, and maternity clothes.

It is amazing what technology allows us to do these days! And since the holidays are coming right up, I thought I ought to tell my readers that it would be the most fantastic thing EVER if you all would buy something in my shop. Mainly because up until now, I have been my own best customer.

The photo above is of a nifty iPhone case. There are a few designs for phone cases available. Totally unique. You should have one. It comes in the a number of variations, and Samsung customers can get them also, but they probably need to hurry before their phones explode. There is a Halloween shirt for adults and kids. You can get clocks, even!

So here is the link to my little store. http://bit.ly/NotExactlyPicasso

Have fun shopping! Thank you all.

Be Sociable, Share!
Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on AND NOW, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR



The saleswomen at Chico’s were so excited. I sashayed in and said, “I am going to the Emmys. I need an outfit.” They nearly died, but then recovered in time to sell me lots and lots of stuff. The necklaces alone weighed five pounds.

Actually, my daughter was taking me to the HBO Emmys afterparty. But that was too much explaining. It sounds a lot better just to say EMMYS. Anyway, I carried the necklaces on the plane, because what if my luggage was lost? I figured that if I wore a pair of pajamas with the necklaces, nobody would notice. Because BLING.

We went in a limo, with my daughter’s client, Josh Brener, from Silicon Valley. He is a very cute man. The party was huge. We watched Josh and his mother walk down the red carpet, which was really turquoise. I had my phone out, and managed to get shots of a whole bunch of stars. Here is the thing: I don’t really watch TV. So when a gorgeous person would walk by, I would ask my daughter, “Is that a celebrity?” She would nod emphatically and say, “Yes.” I then would take a photo with my cell and ask, “Who was that?” To which my daughter would say, “I have no idea.” Let’s just say she knows a star when she sees one. There are so many of them. Not even the talent agents know them all.

After wandering around with my phone, shooting John Oliver, Brian Cranston, Russell Simmons, Peter Dinklage, and some other obvious stars whose identities were a mystery, I sat down to dinner with my daughter. We were at a table that was empty. So the two of us sat there, chatting about all the skeletal women in evening gowns, and about how there must be zillions of dollars worth of diamonds at this party. My Chico’s necklaces were holding their own, however.

Suddenly, my daughter murmured, “Here comes Jon Voight.”

It was pretty loud in the venue. “Huh?” I replied.

“Jon Voight!” She hissed.

“Jon White?  Who’s he?” I answered.

She poked me in the ribs, sending my necklaces in all directions. “JON VOIGHT, FOR GOD’S SAKE.”

Oh, my God. I raised my phone and shot him at about eight feet. That made my daughter even more unsettled. “Mom, not at point blank range–it is RUDE.”

But it was too late. He caught me. And he gave me a little high sign. I felt like a rube. But then, YOU GUESSED IT–he came over and said, “May I join you ladies?”

I died. My daughter died. He sat down, all dapper and handsome. Have you ever had to make small talk with Angelina Jolie’s father?  Who just lost an Emmy Award to Ben Mendelson? The actual night before Angelina announced her pending divorce from Brad Pitt? I didn’t think so. But I was so totally prepared. I had read the article in my Facebook newsfeed about what the stars do to prepare for the awards ceremony, and I happened to remember what Jon Voight said.

“So. You are wearing special socks?”

My daughter started squirming. What in God’s name was  her Ohio mother talking about? Asking Angelina’s father about SOCKS?

He smiled. “You know about my socks?”

I nodded. “Yes, special socks that your grand-nieces gave you?”  I was so smug. I looked at my daughter and smiled.

“Yes. They give me a pair for every ceremony.”

We ate our dinner. It was awkward. Where do you go with the conversation after socks?

As soon as the last tortellini was consumed, my daughter leaned over and said, “Ok, let’s go now.”

Concerned, I said, “But we can’t just leave him ALONE!”

“MOM. It’s JON VOIGHT. We don’t have to worry about him. He will be alone for a millisecond.”

Reluctantly, I got up. But she was right. Immediately, he was surrounded. The rest of the evening was a blur. Amy Shumer. The cast of VEEP. A very tall, gorgeous, blonde star of Game of Thrones. It was great. I was thrilled to be there, and proud of my necklaces.

Who knows? Next year, it might be the Oscars. Don’t tell the ladies at Chico’s just yet.


Marion and Jon. After the sock discussion.

Be Sociable, Share!
Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off on MY DINNER WITH JON VOIGHT