Wednesday, August 3, 2011

It's a Day for Snark, With the Queen of Snark

Good morning all! Well I am so excited to share that we have the one and only Queen of Snark on our blog today. That's right Rachel Thompson aka RachelintheOC is here, with us, today, sharing and big, huge secret!!!

If you are cool like us and have read her book A Walk in The Snark, then you know you are in for a treat. If you haven't read the book, then stop, go grab a copy(dude it's still only .99 on Amazon!!)and then come back because it's a must read. One to have in the Your Need To Read pile. For those of you who haven't read the book, here's a bit about it, if you have, skip past and go straight to Rachel's post. (you will love it!) BIG secret won't believe it! (I know I didn't)

With her trademark snarky humor and candor, Rachel whisks you into her caffeinated world where she deconstructs common phrases (I’m Fine) and makes up words (Refrigeratoritis) in order to help dudes understand chicks…and vice versa.

Rachel believes “Men are from Seinfeld, Women are from Friends,” and so do her legions of fans. She dares to ask “why do men want to change the world but can’t change a roll of toilet paper?”

Drawing on her decades (dear god has it been that long?) of marriage, friendships, and past relationships, Rachel’s specialty is observing male behavior and dissecting it with humor (Shopping is NOT a Verb). Think of her as the Scientist of Snark…without the ugly white labcoat of course. #asif

“Husband: Mumble, mumble, mumble.
11yo: What?
Me: It’s okay. I speak husband.”

But don’t let that witty veneer fool you. Sprinkled throughout these funny essays are some poignant stories of tragedy and loss (The Difficult Kind). This chick will tear at your heart. And then, you know, stitch it back together with humorous aplomb.

Now I know you have all been waiting,the big secret from our very own RachelintheOC

When I was sixteen years old, my parents made me compete in a beauty pageant.


The Queen of Snark (in case you haven’t heard, that’s what people call me. I can’t imagine why) tried to snag America’s Junior Miss Crown in the regional Sacramento pageant.

It wasn’t my fault. It only happened the one time. I was thinking about jumping off the stage and smoking a joint in the back with the cute stage hand the whole time.

A little backstory.

My dad, a fairly tall, nerdy-looking dude with dark hair and a calm demeanor, was a store manager for Longs Drugs in the wilds of Sacramento suburbia. His boss, an even nerdier dude, decided that Longs should sponsor this goofy pageant. Because Jerry (my dad) had a daughter the appropriate age (sixteen), viola! A Star Is Born.

Um, not.

The only thing that came out of this experience is my ability to write a sarcastically, snarky piece about it later in life; as well as that I recruited a gorgeous, blonde Mormon friend named S who actually won the damn thing. She could sing, dance (of course she could), had legs up to THERE, and her parents didn’t come cause they have 13,000 kids at home to take care of.

It meant so much to her that MY folks cheered her on and even had a celebratory cake for her at our house after; none of which I remember – it’s all blocked out like a scar on the ass cheek of humanity that it was, but S does. It was one of the most meaningful experiences of her life. She went on to the state finals. She didn’t win but she looked amazing. We lost touch but reconnected a few years ago.

Why am I telling you this?

Perspective. If you pick up my book A Walk In The Snark, you may relate to some of the stories in there, depending on what you’ve experienced in your own life. I discuss men, women, parenting, vodka, coffee, paper towels, and the suicide of someone who at one point I thought I’d marry. You may or may not relate. And that’s okay.

Books take us to places we may or may not have ever been, or places we’ve chosen to forget.

I’m glad I forgot about that awful pageant, if only to remember it to have a snarkfest now. But I’m now friends w/ S again and that makes it all worth it.

Well, except for that damn choreographer. He was a sadist.

Thanks to Miranda and Your Need To Read for the feature on my book. Find me on myblog, Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, or anywhere snark is sold.

You can also take my free social media webinar for writers the first Monday of every month with the Indie Book Collective by signing up here:


  1. I guess this is in the category of anything that doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. LOL. I'm glad you survived, and I'm sure the experience helped formulate the snark you so eloquently write today. :)

  2. What we do for parents. I hope that someday soon you reconnect with your old friend.Great interview

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  4. Great post! Rach, how many martinis did you have after reliving that blast from your past? Need another?

  5. Rachel, you are hilarious! I know that any time I need a good laugh or something to just get me in a good mood, I can read something of yours. Love the snark and wit. #myfavoriteredhead ;-)

  6. Jacquie - I agree, this had to have been the starting point of the snark she writes so well.

    Sheilagh -thanks for stopping by, I am glad you enjoyed it.

    Jackie - I am sure she is still nursing martini's due to the reliving of this experience.

    Kelli - I know what you mean, she can always put me in a good mood!

    Rachel thank you so much for stopping by and sharing this amazing secret with us.

  7. I've been waiting to reveal this 'secret' for the right time. I was happy (okay, wrong word) but pleased to give you the scoop, Miranda. Glad my pain has gone over so well. It's helpful to laugh and groan about our past. I'm sure the hair was the worst part.

  8. Here I am, posting a day before Rachel reveals a big secret like this. I picture her in a beauty pageant like Sam from iCarly in the pageant episode they ran.

    I love laughing at your pain, Rachel. Thanks for sharing. ;)

  9. I loved that episode, jeremy!

    Well, I didn't dance. Sorry to disappoint. I thought about doing gymnastics (I was a tumbler, a flipper, whatever you want to call it) but the stage was kinda small. This was a high-class do, I tell ya. So I stuck w/ piano. I had taken lessons since age 6. I did alright. I was used to recitals, etc.

    Still, I hated every. single, moment.