Welcome to the first edition of J-Bo’s Favorite Things!


I thought I’d share with you all of the awesome things I’ve been doing to keep myself feeling human-ish during this most polar of vortexes.

First, I’ve been trying to read more Young Adult books to better familiarize myself with the genre. Currently, I’m reading this one:


It’s a great read. I highly recommend it if you want to be taken back, quite vividly, to the feelings of your own first love story. (For me: the boy in middle school with whom I carried on a relationship exclusively through AOL until he eventually got so mad at me that he tried to rip my arm out of its socket like a wishbone. Ah, to be young).

Also, I’ve been watching documentaries. I’ve challenged myself to watch at least 52 documentaries this year. I figure that number will force me to eventually get out of my comfort zone and learn something new about the world. It hasn’t completely been working so far, considering the last several documentaries I’ve watched have been on the topics of relationships, shoes, and online relationships. So the word eventually is really key here. Oh well. Here are some of my favs so far (click on the images to learn more):

Stories We Tell



Additionally, I’ve begun working out again for the first time in 2.5 years. I do the routine in this video three times per week, using three-pound weights:

I’ve watched this video so much now that I’ve started to think of the woman as my bestie, since I spend more time with her and her perfect abs than I do with most people in my life. But also, she has such a slamming body that I also kind of hate her with a deep burning jealousy that keeps me up at night hoping that terrible things will happen to her. In other words, it’s pretty much like every female friendship ever.

Last but not least, I’ve been querying literary agents for my book and watching The Bachelor. I group these two activities together because querying is shockingly similar to being the Bachelor, in which I am Juan Pablo and the agents are my lady suitors. Except that instead of me gradually eliminating them until I identify my one true love, they all get to take turns rejecting me. And instead of fighting over who gets to make out with me and take me on a fantasy date, none of them want to look at or speak to me. Because they don’t know I exist. And I’m competing with thousands of sexier versions of myself. And there are barely any roses. And instead of one heartbreak, I get to go home crying in the limo again and again. Over and over. See? The similarities are uncanny.


Please let me know, readers, if you have any documentary or YA book recommendations for me. Or predictions of who Juan Pablo will spend his life with. Or if you are an agent who can land me a six-figure deal. Or just let me know how you’ve been keeping busy this miserable winter.