A pampered Long Island princess hits the road in a converted bus with her wilderness-loving husband, travels the country for one year, and brings it all hilariously to life in this offbeat and romantic memoir.
Doreen and Tim are married psychiatrists with a twist: She’s a self-proclaimed Long Island princess, grouchy couch potato, and shoe addict. He's an affable, though driven, outdoorsman. When Tim suggests “chucking it all” to travel cross-country in a converted bus, Doreen asks, “Why can’t you be like a normal husband in a midlife crisis and have an affair or buy a Corvette?” But she soon shocks them both, agreeing to set forth with their sixty-pound dog, two querulous cats—and no agenda—in a 340-square-foot bus.
Queen of the Road is Doreen’s offbeat and romantic tale about refusing to settle; about choosing the unconventional road with all the misadventures it brings (fire, flood, armed robbery, and finding themselves in a nudist RV park, to name just a few). The marvelous places they visit and delightful people they encounter have a life-changing effect on all the travelers, as Doreen grows to appreciate the simple life, Tim mellows, and even the pets pull together. Best of all, readers get to go along for the ride through forty-seven states in this often hilarious and always entertaining memoir, in which a boisterous marriage of polar opposites becomes stronger than ever.
Growing up in Great Neck, NY (as my husband says, a "princess from the Island of Long"), I loved to write and could always be counted on to take creative license where none was called for. (To whit, the Ode to Geometry I foisted on my eighth grade math teacher.) It just never occurred to me to try to make a living at it. So, what was a Jewish only child to do? Why, go to medical school, of course.
I didn't write for years (thus sparing my medical school classmates and instructors Ode to Diseases of the Bowel). After graduation from George Washington University Medical School in D.C., I moved with my then husband to Tucson, AZ. (He wanted to be an archeologist and put his studies on hold so I could finish my medical training. In return, I told him I'd do my residency wherever he chose to get his Ph.D., not for one moment thinking he'd pick a city with no Nordstrom.) We divorced soon after and I vowed not to marry again for a long, long while.
A year later, Tim (a fellow psychiatric resident), tricked me into going on a date. We've been together ever since, progressing through the all important M's -- Monogamy, Moving in, Mortgage and Matrimony. And now, unfortunately, Motor home. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
We moved to Boulder, CO in 1993 and several years later, my first book, I Know You Really Love Me, on stalking, was published. It won the Colorado Author's League Top Hand Award for Nonfiction and became a bestseller on Amazon. I made numerous appearances in the media as a psychiatric expert including Larry King Live, 48 Hours, Good Morning America, The Discovery Channel, People Magazine, The New York Times, NPR and many others. I also traveled around the country for speaking engagements to forensic and law enforcement groups. Since all this exposure involved beefing up my wardrobe, I was happy to do it. Still, to this day, I count among my greatest accomplishments that our bus was featured as the centerfold of Bus Conversions magazine, thus fulfilling my lifelong ambition of becoming a Miss September. But, I'm getting ahead of myself, again.
My literary agent suggested I write a screenplay based on I Know You Really Love Me and I found that I immensely liked that form, so much so, I wrote many more and even had a few optioned. I cut down on my practice to write. I was quite content. Tim, still practicing psychiatry 60 hours a week, was not. His solution was to take a midlife career break (who knew my husband was such a trend-setter?) and live in a converted bus for a year, traveling the country.
"Why can't you be like a normal husband in a midlife crisis and have an affair or buy a Corvette?" I demanded. "I will never, ever, EVER live in a bus."
He's obviously the better shrink.
