Robena's News

Playing the Waiting Game

2011-07-31T11:41:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted much here for a while because my new website and blog page are being created. Yay! I can't wait. I've never been good at waiting. : )

Anyway, I got a sneak peek at the end of the week. Just a few minor tweaks and I think we'll be ready to roll. Now I have to think of something interesting to honor the new blog's entry into cyberspace. And I have to find out how to remove my own photo from my followers...I mean, of course I'm following my own blog...but, really?

Healing.

2011-07-18T17:53:00.000-07:00

It has been a while since I posted, sorry. A quick update. The leg is healing slowly but still swells if I sit at the computer for too long. I'm sure in another week or so I'll be back to normal.

In the meantime I've been working on updating my website and blog. I'll have a new WordPress site soon, a new internet home, all sparkly and clean and pretty. I believe it's user friendly too, so I'm looking forward to that.

I'm loving my purchase of a Kindle and it became my go to medication when I could barely hobble around. I've read a ton of books these past two weeks. Top of the list so far has been, Dreams of Joy, by Lisa See, and Lucien's Fall, by Barbara Samuel. Both great stories that left me wanting more at the end. You can't ask for better than that in a book.

My latest manuscript is coming along well. I'm enjoying the process and the way my characters are showing themselves on the page. Plus, I've gotten a few submissions out for the last book, entered a few contests, and pitched to a couple of editors and agents. It's all good.

Heeding My Advice.

2011-07-05T16:16:00.000-07:00

I'm really good at giving advice, excellent in fact. ; )I've always advised my mother and mother-in-law to never rush to pick up the phone, because they might fall, trip on something, have wet feet from the garden, or the shower, or be bleary eyed from grabbing an afternoon snooze. I always say, if a call is important the person will call back. Excellent advice for the elderly, right?

On Sunday I changed my routine because of an excessive heat warning, and took the dog out early for a walk. We usually go out after my nine am phone call that comes in regular as clock work every Sunday morning. So I got back home and had an hour to go before the call and decided to exercise. I was on the Spinner bike, reading a book and pedaling to my heart's content, when the phone rang and startled me. I jumped off the bike to get to the phone and forgot to slow down first. The pedal whacked me in the shin, the serated edge tearing out a couple of chunks of flesh, and leaving skid marks that looked like a car had run over me. I faked good health with my 99 year old caller not daring to look at the damage, or the blood oozing down to my sneaker, and ended the call.

Now, remember this was Fourth of July weekend, in the Cali desert where temperatures reached 118 degrees on the Saturday, and anyone in their right mind had left town for the nearest beach. I was a wreck and knew I had to go to the E.R. So, I stopped the bleeding, covered the wound with gauze squares, wrapped it and strapped on an ice bag and drove myself.

After they patched me up and steri-stripped me, gave me a Tetanus shot, and dressed and bandaged the wound, I was sent home with discharge papers, hugely grateful that no bone was broken. The instructions mentioned keeping the wound dry, so no daily swim, a quick shower with the leg in a plastic bag was okay, and they advised against any activity that caused sweating. Did I say that it was 118 freakin degrees on Saturday? Okay, I'm weird, but that really made me laugh. Anyway, I've now done the RICE, rest, ice, compression, and elevation for two days, and I'm bored to tears. Today the bandage was changed, the wounds redressed, and I can get around okay but it's going to be a while until I heal.

I keep mentally admonishing myself for being such a klutz. I remember the oft quoted words of my mother's Irish father (a grandparent who passed when I was quite young)and they are: "If you can hear me, then bloody well heed me." I'd heard my own words, said over and over, for years and years, but did I heed them? Nope.

Some things are gonna have to change around here. : )

Great Beginnings

2011-06-27T10:55:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered what it is about a novel that keeps you spellbound from page one? It’s not magic. It has to be that you, the reader, connects on a deep inner level with the main character, and you’re living the story as it unfolds, right?

As a writer, how do you capture your reader’s imagination in that way, and so immediately? How do you give readers enough information to titillate the senses, and leave enough enticing tidbits to lead them through the story until their appetites are fully sated at the end? How do you achieve that awesome comment from a reader when he/she tells you they stayed up until 3am to finish your book?

Multi-published romance author, Lynn Kerstan, is here to share her insights into the art of, Great Beginnings:

Robena: You speak, and teach, about introducing irresistible characters. Can you explain?
Lynn: I believe first impressions count. They endure throughout the story. How you first present your main characters is far more important than the opening “event.”
There are six main points:
1. Choose the qualities you most want the reader to perceive in your main characters on the first acquaintance. You can’t show them all up front, nor do you want to.
2. Find the opening scene action that will allow you to show the specifically chosen aspects of your main characters.
3. Recognize the personal qualities most relevant to your character’s story arc.
4. Plan specific ways to “unpeel the onion” and reveal the hidden depths and unexpected (even contradictory) aspects of your character’s nature.
5. Foreshadow character traits in the early scenes.
6. Create irresistible hooks that make readers want to stick with a character they’ve just met and find out what happens to him/her.
Robena: Excellent. I think those six points will be typed, printed, and taped to my computer. Do you have any other words of wisdom that relate to great beginnings?
Lynn: I teach an online class and go into greater depth with the points made above. In Part B, I discuss three more topics:
1. The Inciting Incident
2. The Story Question
3. Other Essential Stuff.
Robena: I like that, “Other Essential Stuff”. Would you care to explain some of that “stuff” today?
Lynn: What Not to Write; False Starts; Prologues; Backstory Blunders; TMI—Too Much Information. I’m always adding material and changing material based on questions from class members. They teach me a lot about what they need and want.
Robena: TMI. Yes, I have been guilty of that, or at least my adult children tell me so. Ha ha. How long does the course run? Also, when will you be teaching the next class on beginnings? Or are you teaching a different topic?
Lynn: Three or four weeks, depending on the sponsoring RWA Chapter or other writerly venue. The next “Great Beginnings” class runs 01August-28August, offered by the Futuristic, Fantasy, and Paranormal Chapter of RWA.
More information and registration available at:
http://www.romance-ffp.com/event.cfm?EventID=326
Robena: Tell us a little about yourself.
Lynn: I’m a former college professor, folksinger, professional bridge player, and nun, the author of nine Regency romances, seven historical romances, and several novellas. I’m also a five-time RITA Finalist, with one win, and I’m currently developing a paranormal series.
Robena: Wow! That’s an impressive bio. I’m sure you’ve tapped into that life experience for your novels. And did I hear you say you were once a nun?
Lynn: Yep.
Robena: Care to elaborate? I had two great aunts who were nuns. They were really funny characters, and they had a fabulous outlook on life.
Lynn: Well, I think I’m funny. Others beg to differ. Spent only 2 ½ years in the convent, though, at Mount St. Mary’s in Los Angeles. It was a wonderful experience. I’m glad I went in, and I’m glad I came out.
Robena: Thanks for sharing about yourself, and your incredible writing knowledge. I know that I learned a lot from this interview, and I’m sure my chapter mates will also. I’m going back to the work in progress to take another look at the beginning, and I think my focus will be on your first point.

To learn more about Lynn, or for information on her online classes, please visit her at www.StoryBroads.com

(This interview first posted in the LARA Confidential, June 2011.)

Thank you Whirlpool.

2011-06-22T10:49:00.000-07:00

How often do you get blog subject matter from your washing machine?
Do any of you remember Cathy from the comic strip? It was based on Cathy Guisewite’s life, and dealt with the four basic guilt trips women have: food, love, mother, and work. I used to enjoy Cathy’s take on things and for the most part could relate. She poked fun at the foibles of modern women, but in a nice way, and I always read that strip in my daily newspaper.
Anyway a lot of years ago I had bought a Cathy doll. She’s quite tall, maybe eighteen or so inches. She’s totally made of fabric and pleasantly plump. Her skin is pale pink, with brown wool hair, a drawn on cartoon face with kind of an “oops” smile, and she wears a blue outfit. I didn’t know until yesterday that the dress is fixed with Velcro to her body and it’s covered by a long sleeved matching blue jacket. She wears fabric blue shoes and they are fixed in place. Velcro’d to her hands is a brown briefcase also made from fabric, and printed on it are the words: Take Life One Disaster at a Time.
I liked those words and thought they were good ones to live by, and I tried hard to follow that advice. Although some days when my kids were teenagers it was more like too many disasters to deal with, and how can I juggle all of them? I’d look at Cathy, who always sat on the spare chair in my office and was only removed if someone wanted to sit there—except for my son who used to just sit right on top of her—and I’d roll my eyes and say, “Okay, Cathy, speak to me.” Over the years Cathy was relegated to different places as my home space got smaller and the kids went off in pursuit of whatever it is that kids pursue. Yesterday I found her again. She was looking a little the worse for wear: dusty, crumpled, and her hair was tangled. I threw her into the washing machine, not realizing her clothes could be removed, tossed in the detergent, started up the machine, and went back to work on my latest WIP. Then, as writers are apt to do, I got deeply involved in my work and forgot all about Cathy.
This morning I decided to wash towels and opened the top of the washing machine. There was Cathy, totally naked, and totally dry. She was smiling up at me, her pink body smooth as a baby’s bottom, her clothes lying in disarray on the bottom of the machine, and her briefcase torn from her little hands. She looked happy, like she’d had a really good night of it. I burst out laughing. Then I took her out and dressed her. She didn’t even need a spin in the dryer, but her hair? Let me tell you whatever she did in that machine, she sure had fun. That brown wool hair was too tangled to comb out, so I did the best I could and braided it, tying it off with a rubber band. Then I reattached her briefcase, like she was heading back to the office.
She’s as good as new, if not better, and she seems quite content sitting on a stool behind me. I’m not sure about her smug smile though, maybe it’s satisfaction after her little spin?

A Fruitless Loop

2011-06-16T12:43:00.000-07:00

I recently read in my horoscope that I must beware falling into a fruitless loop. I love the term. I rolled it around on my tongue like it was a mouthful of rare and expensive wine and my job was to define all of its subtle nuances. Then the phrase began to play tricks with my mind. It was like an earworm. A tape track playing over and over and over until I couldn’t shake it loose.

Soon my thoughts centered on cereal. Quite a jump, but you catch my drift…Fruit Loops…no, they must be fruitless loops, like in plain Cheerios. I love Cheerios. Cheerios with sliced banana or blueberries, skim milk, and a couple of cups of coffee. That gets me going in the morning. Cheerios at night while watching TV and sipping a nice smooth Pinot Noir. Cheerios, you ask, with wine? Sure. Toss them in with some trail mix and you have quite a healthy snack...especially if you buy the whole grain instead of the plain. But, back to the fruitless loop, what does that mean?

I suppose it’s like taking the freeway home, and then looping from one interchange to another, going through the motions, driving on automatic pilot…but then again you would have a destination or goal in that scenario. You’d be on a freeway loop but there’d be fruit at the end because you’d arrive home. How about walking on the treadmill yet going nowhere? But wait a minute, that would also bear fruit, wouldn’t it? You would at least lose some weight or firm and tone your legs, stop your butt from sagging. So that could be considered fruit, the fruits of your labors. What about the hamster racking up miles on the wheel? He’s going around and around and getting nowhere fast. Or is he? Maybe that workout aids his digestion so he gets to eat more fruit. Think about it.

Seriously, I think the fruitless loop is about human emotion. It’s about being locked into one way of thinking that shows little or no progress. Or the replaying of negative messages, thoughts without end, without purpose, and that bear nothing positive. No fruit for the effort. I think that’s it. It’s a mind thing, the games we play with our thoughts, the endless analyzing.

A fruitless loop, I love it. Have you ever been on one, and how did you jump off?

Midnight in Paris

2011-06-11T13:24:00.000-07:00

Right off the bat I'm going to say I LOVE THIS MOVIE. Woody Allen has captured something beautiful, magical, whimsical, in his study of human relationships set against the backdrop of Paris. Paris by day, by night, in the rain...but especially at midnight. Go to the theater and let yourself be swept up and away in nostalgia in this gorgeous film, Midnight in Paris.

I won't give away any spoilers here but will say that for any artist in search of his or her own creative authenticity, this movie will put you on the right track. It isn't your standard Woody Allen movie. It isn't your standard romantic comedy. In fact the comedy aspect is so subtle, so sophisitcated, I was surprised to see it fit into the rom-com genre. And I want to see the movie again to capture those lines of dialogue that made me sit forward in my seat and gasp or smile.

The way Allen directs his cast, the way he nurtures those subtleties of character, those nuances that come from a wide-eyed gaze, to a flick of an eyebrow that can say so much, is pure genius. I think this might be Owen Wilson's "moment" in his career. I understood his character was in essence a portrayal of Allen's own self, but the tender way Owen played the role of Gil was gorgeous, and he didn't show any of the cynical side that often comes through in Allen's movies. Instead he was awestruck.

Gil was totally blown apart with excitement to be stepping back in time and hobnobbing with the artists of a bygone era. The way he discovered himself through discovering those artists was captivating. Haven't we all thought at some time that we'd missed the boat, or been born into the wrong era, or that the so called Golden Era was long gone and would never be repeated? That lure for the past, that longing for what was comes because we can't see into the future, all we have is today. Somehow today looks so ordinary. So lackluster. Not so, this film.

Acknowledgements.

2011-06-09T12:56:00.000-07:00

I was recently acknowledged on a friend's dedication page in her novel. It made me smile, and I must admit I was quite chuffed.

Melissa and I met about ten years ago when we joined LARA, the Los Angeles chapter of Romance Writers of America. We joined a large critique group and met after the monthly meeting to exchange chapters, comment upon, and generally try to learn from each other's writing attempts the best way to write a romance. Those were fun days.

We were an eclectic group and all have remarkably stayed friends some ten years later. What surprised me most was Melissa and Gina (my current critique partner) were young women, not much older than my own daughter. Melissa was recently married with no children, Gina was single. They were so modern and contemporary, and I was this old lady who was single, didn't even date, and had no idea how to write a romance for today's reader. They loosened me up. ; )

Over the years we broke away from the larger group to find smaller numbers to critique with. My group of five went on to produce three successful authors. Then those authors were deluged with contracts and marketing and building a brand, and we split again. Melissa and I critiqued for a while and then life got in the way for her as she was working, had a baby, and so on, but we've always been there to support each other in times of need. Gina and I still critique and we seem to do just fine.

Melissa wrote a wonderful story that was a historical time travel. It got so close to being published in several of the big houses, she garnered an agent with that story, and life started to look promising. Then things went topsy turvy as they often do in life, and the agent changed vocation. Publishing was beginning to change, and not for the good for new writers. Melissa never gave up on her story. She knew it deserved to be published. Me, on the other hand, I'd write a story submit it five or six times, get a rejection and move on to the next story. Ah, I think there's a lesson here, somewhere. ; )

Melissa's first novel, Past Her Time, came out in e-book and is available at Bookstrand Publishers this week. It should be available at Amazon in a week or so, and it will be published in print in October 2011.

Check it out, you won't be sorry.

Short memory.

2011-05-28T15:33:00.000-07:00

I have an "everything that needs attending to list" on my computer, and as soon as something is completed it's deleted from the list, kissed goodbye, sent on its way, whatever. Being organized has always been something I've needed in my life. I'm a list maker. I love routine. And I don't like clutter. But I swear that I have the shortest memory of anyone I know. I've given away stuff, donated stuff, and then within a year or so bought a similar item.

When I moved to this home six years ago, I bought a treadmill. This is a small home, so there isn't any place you can hide a monstrous piece of equipment. After two years I donated it to a charitable organization because aesthetically the machine did not appeal to me. Every time I saw it it jarred my nerves, even though I loved working out. My motto is, if it isn't pretty it has to go. I swore there would be no more gym equipment in my house. Ever. Two years later I bought a spinner bike. But at least it's small and not offensive, and I do use it a few times a week. ; )

A few months ago I started getting the desire to workout on a treadmill again. I'm not kidding. A real desire, but not one that required being in a place with other people sweating and huffing. Of course then I started thinking about buying a machine, even though there is a small HOA gym in the development I live in. That would be too simple, right?

So, forgetting all past experiences with home gym equipment, I made many trips to many stores. I took measurements. I compared prices. I rearranged furniture in order to accommodate said machine. I weighed and balanced the lower price with having to put the thing together myself. Have you ever tried to move one of those suckers in Costco or WalMart? I realized I wouldn't be able to bring it home in my car. I'd have to hire someone to do that, plus get it into the house, plus put it together. So, if I was indeed getting another treadmill it would have to be higher priced and from a store that could do all of the heavy lifting. But that was an added expense I did not want. I had the Aussie trip to make. Oh, and the annual taxes. So I shelved the idea and took the trip, and paid Uncle Sam, and totally disregarded the jiggle of my hips.

Last week, I was going over my "list" and spotted the word treadmill, and it wasn't crossed off. Oh no! That invoked a pressing desire, all over again, to buy a treadmill and have the convenience of working out on my own time, in my underwear, and not have to talk to anyone. Did I mention already that I have a short memory? Well, this time I caught myself in mid-action. I tried a new tactic and decided to give the gym a chance. I'm now working out and loving it. And I've chosen a time of day when nobody else is there...lunchtime. Crafty, huh? I still have to wear clothes, but heck, it's almost as good as having the machine in my house.

I'm finished with Mick

2011-05-12T10:57:00.000-07:00

Ha ha. Don't Mess with Mick was my latest story. A romantic suspense. It is now finished, and off to my critique partner for a final read through.

I'll do a little polish, and then send it off to a couple of Beta readers. With any luck it will be ready to submit to contests in late July. I'm not able to go to RWA National Conference this year, this will be the first time I've missed it since 2003, and it seems awfully strange. so there will be no post conference submissions to agents and editors. Just a big old silence. That might send me slightly batty. However, my sweet dog is approaching twelve years of age, and for her breed that is elderly, and I can see the changes in her on almost a daily basis. I know our time together is diminishing, and I can't put her through the anxiety and stress of me leaving, even if it is only for five days. There will be time for trips later.

My critique partner and I used to refer to my latest work as "Mick's story" but it was really the heroine's story, her journey, her loyalty to her family, her desire to find her missing grandfather...but Mick? Well, Mick just got in the way. Not really, he was in pursuit of a criminal and somehow grandpa got in the way, and that caused the hero and heroine to cross paths and draw swords. : ) And of course, the criminal had to try to bump them both off, oh yeah, and the hero and heroine eventually fell in love.

I really enjoyed writing this story, but it took me longer than I'd anticipated. I kept putting it aside to work on other things, and then I'd come back, putter around some more, and so on. Finally, I forced myself to finish it, didn't like it, put it aside to simmer for a few months and then went back to do a rewrite. That was when it suddenly became real to me. I could see the story as a whole. As if I were at a distance, looking down upon it, and seeing all of the inner workings, the gears, everything operating as it should. It was a strange experience, and one I haven't had before. I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it means it's the best story of written so far. I can only hope. : )

I'm already doing research on my next project. This time I'm switching genre. I think my voice is better suited to women's fiction, and that is what I started out writing. No, it won't be one of those divorce tales. And it won't be about recovering from, or going through, a devasting illness. It will be a young woman's journey of discovery. An enlightening journey. And I don't care how long it takes me to finish it. I've removed myself from the rat race. That's all I'm saying for now. But I'm liking what I'm researching, and if all goes well, I may just visit the country of the setting in Spring 2012. Got to save my pennies. But it would be fabulous, and I love to write from location. There's nothing like soaking up the ambience, the sights, the smells, and the local mannerisms, and then trickling them through the story.

Give Peace a Chance.

2011-04-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

Did anyone else have a difficult April? Don't worry, it's almost over. Already I can feel the tension easing as May approaches.

My writing, or at least my desire to write, is coming back. I'm putting in a few hours every day, revising in the mornings, and rewriting in the afternoons. I've never worked on a manuscript so hard, not ever before. I always imagined I had, but nah! Not even close. The thing is, with publishing being all in a tizz, and multi-published writers being in a tizz, and agents and editors being in a tizz, it's hard to know which way to turn. I do know editors are strapped for time, a lot of agents are closing up shop, the tried and true are getting the contracts, and for a nobody like me to break in I must have a story that is not only amazing, but a manuscript that has been closely edited. There's no such thing as learning on the job anymore. The stakes are high. The pressure to perform could blow the top off your head.

Many friends think it's too hard to even try to get published. There are naysayers everywhere. There are a gazillion blogs that speak about the negative side of the publishing industry, that promote the e-publishing industry, that throw around statistics about the death of the print book. It's wearing on the nerves to say the least. I came to the conclusion a couple of weeks ago that there is way too much chatter in my life, and very little of it is of a positive nature. I decided to "go quiet". Have you ever done that?

I now visit only a handful of blogs, those I trust implicitly, and I don't comment or engage unless the subject is important to me. I don't tweet, I don't facebook, I watch less TV, and instead choose more movies that suit my mood. Or I read. Or I lose myself in my own creativity, and write my own stories. I get out into nature. I swim, or take long walks with my dog. Even my choice in music is instrumental only.

In getting quiet, I've discovered that writing is a big part of me, of my life, but being published or not, doesn't define me. I'm not giving up writing. If I never get published that's all right. I can live with that, just me, my nimble fingers, my crazy mind, a computer, and some peace and quiet.

Give peace a try. You never know what you'll discover about you.

Back from Australia

2011-04-09T22:04:00.000-07:00

I took a trip to the land downunder, to visit with family. My adult children joined me, and they had a great time. They hadn't seen some of their relatives in over ten years. Of course, I'd been back every two years, but college and work always prevented the three of us from travelling together.

It was a good trip, although tough on my nerves at times. Sharing a house again with my children had its moments, but only because we all have different agendas all the time. I hate being the decision maker, because I know someone is going to be cheesed off. : ) Plus, I don't do well with large crowds. It's something to do with absorbing other people's energy, and getting overwhelmed. In recent years, I've lived alone. It seems the older I get the more I require my peace and quiet. But that too could be a writer thing, you know, living in your head, making up stories, inventing characters and making them do what you want them to do. Writers can be weird.

The trip was short, but sweet. Mom is looking good, and still very active. All of the sibs showed up, and they looked wonderful. Many had a grown-up child or two with them, and some of those had children of their own. My children basked in the glory of extended family. Their USA family is tiny. I enjoyed meeting the youngsters I'd never met, touching base with those who had grown like weeds since last trip, and holding the two babies born this year.

We did a lot of talking. A ton of talking, laughing, drinking, and eating...and more talking. There was a luncheon, a Bar-B-Que, a dinner out, a picnic lunch, and a pizza night, and all attended by more numbers than I cared to count. How I didn't gain any weight with all the chowing down is beyond my comprehension. We stayed for the most part in the Hunter Valley, and the weather was gorgeous. My brother and his wife and family came down from Townsville, and he said they'd had constant rain since last October. Their home is on a bit of a hill so they didn't get flood damage, but I think they were totally soaking up the sun. We visited the vineyards, stayed in a villa on a golf course, played tennis, walked at sunrise, rented a car and managed to drive successfully on the other side of the road, visited a zoo where my guys could feed the kangaroos and pet the koalas, and we even managed a day and night in Sydney.

When I arrived home it was to be greeted by a burst hot water pipe, a huge clean up and repair job, then the pressure of turning off the main water line had popped two valves on the sprinkler system (which was getting a bit ancient)so that required another water clean up and new installation. Then the home owners association said I needed to derust parts of my wrought iron fencing. (Due to excessive watering of the green belt behind my house where the HOA landscapers turn the sprinklers onto the fence.) But am I complaining. : ) Not yet, but I will next week.

So, there I was with dollars growing wings and flying out the windows, a huge case of jetlag, and my sandpaper strips in hand and grumpily sanding the rust spots. Tomorrow, I do the rustoleum treatment. Then I paint. This is not a small fence, by the way. It will probably take the better part of next week.

So, even though I had a less than stellar welcome home, I refuse to let it get to me. I'm going to be like my kids and bask in the family love as I sand the wrought iron. And I'll sing. Really, really, loud. And off key. Or maybe I'll brainstorm a new story. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Writer's world.

2011-03-24T09:03:00.000-07:00

My writing world has been interesting this month. I finished the work in progress (in the rough draft) and put it aside to gel. That's an important aspect of revision. A story needs time away from it so you can come back with fresh eyes, not only to find grammatical errors due to flying fingers as you type the story in all of your innocent eagerness, but to look at the deeper aspects. The characters. The conflict. The subplots. The Theme.

I had the good fortune of being in an online book club to discuss Barbara O'Neal's latest book, How To Bake a Perfect Life. We were talking about voice, and I have always stood in awe of Barbara's storytelling voice, and she commented that her first draft is always sparse. I was flabbergasted. I'd imagined the words and phrases in her narrative flew from brain to fingertips like the pouring of syrup on my morning pancakes. Not so. She claims that when she revises, she goes back into the story to "plump it up". She said, imagine a room that you have painted, carpeted, and put furniture into. Stand back and take it all in. Then add in all the special touches that tie it all together. Put pillows here, a vase of flowers there, a picture frame or two. Bring it to life.

Of course, the way my mind works, I immediately thought of the TV ad for Foster Farms chickens. The chickens trying to be passed off as FF chickens are "plumped up" with salt water. Then they explode. Ha ha. So even though I love Barbara's expression, I'm also aware that this "plumping" must be tasteful, and it might be better for me to keep a light hand. I'm currently working on a manuscript that I finished at the end of last year. This will be the final go round. It will either be good, or it will explode.

Kaboom!

A fun time

2011-03-06T12:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I went to a bridal shower. I must admit I haven't been to such an event in over thirty years. Baby showers yep, by the gazillion, but bridal, nope. I recently went to the wedding of a friend of my son. Does this mean I'm entering a new phase of my life? Hmmmm? Maybe so.

Anyway, the shower was fun. Loads of fun. The bride-to-be looked ecstatic. You know that bridal blush look, it kind of goes along with the glow of pregnancy, not that the bride is pregnant or anything, just glowing with happiness not hormones. ; ) It was fun to sit around with a bunch of women in my own age group, women who have long surpassed the bridal blush, and giggle about men, marriage, and sex. We played games, won prizes, drank champagne at noon (although I was driving so I chose diet coke), and we had a delicious catered lunch in the early spring sunshine at poolside, followed by coffee and chocolate dipped strawberries. Yum!

The bride-to-be received many lingerie items. A cream bra, with Swarovski (sp)crystals on the straps and a neat little bow in the center, was about as decadent as the strawberries. There were traditional peignoir's, silk and satin nighties, and various assorted non-lingerie gifts. I gave her a black silk pyjama set that had cropped legs on the pants, and a built in bra on the top and hot pink shoe-string straps. It was scattered with hot pink cherries. I thought it was cute and original, and can you believe it? so did one of the other guests. Ah well, great minds think alike. At least I left the tags on so she could do an exchange.

If it hadn't been for the horrendous traffic, which meant a three hour drive to and from the location, I'd have called it a perfect day. On the drive home I couldn't stop thinking about the champagne I'd missed out on, oh, and that wonderful sounding Zinfandel from Paso Robles. I stopped off and bought a bottle of my favorite Pinot noir. After two glasses, and a good movie on the tube, I forgot all about traffic, and by the time I went to bed I was feeling all young again. And I'm sure I had a good blush going too.

Slow down. You move too fast...

2011-02-16T13:08:00.000-08:00

It seems everything I touch these days either breaks, has a problem, or causes some kind of negative reaction. And the funny thing is, I'm doing things thinking I'm somehow improving my life, or my health, and it gets screwed up. What's that about?

I'd decided to stop with the cookies, or the handful of chocolate kisses, or the bowl of ice cream, while watching TV. I bought 100 calorie popcorn. I love popcorn. So I chomped away on the stuff, even though at that calorie count it tasted more like styrofoam chips than popcorn. But I was happy because it gave my hands and my mouth something to do. Do not go there. I'm warning you. Anyway, after a few nights of popcorn snacks I ended up with a tooth problem. I made an appointment with the dentist, thinking I'd cracked a crown or something. Turned out, to remove those little bits of popcorn that get stuck, I'd over cleaned my teeth and gouged my gums with one of those little brush thingys. A dental bill for x-rays, a couple of softer toothbrushes, some Sensodyne and some mouth wash later, I'm all good again.

So, I decided on increasing my exercise to lose weight. I bought new sneakers. I added extra walking. I planned on curves three times a week, instead of two. I ended up hurting my knee again.

Next plan, I chose to take the week off from exercise and just write like hell. I was too depressed about my weight to write, so decided on beauty treatments. I had a haircut. That went well. Charged with that positive change, I had a manicure and a pedicure. The guy asked if I wanted the sea salt treatment. I decided, why not? He scrubbed and rubbed and practically sandblasted those feet. That evening I felt a little soreness in two spots on my left foot. He'd abraded the skin on my big toe, and one spot on my heel. Now I couldn't even wear my new sneakers, and I had to go buy a new tube of Neosporin. I couldn't exercise, because I couldn't wear anything but sandals. So I've been getting down on the floor and doing some abs and stretches. I've no idea what that action might cause.

Anyway, if you see that I've put on a few pounds, do not ask. And on the plus side I'm enjoying some movies, an online writing class, and I've read several wonderful books. Do you think this could be the universe saying slow down?

Susan Elizabeth Phillips

2011-01-27T08:27:00.001-08:00

We seldom get famous romance/women's fiction authors doing book tours that include our desert communities. This week we got lucky. Susan Elizabeth Phillips, or SEP to those of us who are die hard fans, spoke at the Rancho Mirage Public Library as part of her book tour promoting her latest work, Call Me Irresistible.

It was a great night, and she had an amazing turnout, not just women either. But what really impressed me was the age range of the audience. SEP attracts readers from the late teens to senior citizens. One of the ladies in our group is in her eighties and she said she really got a kick out of the book.

Our La Quinta bookclub chose SEP's book for our February read. February being the month of love, right? Also, we thought it would be a treat to hear the author speak and see if her natural voice shows through in her written work. Of course, I knew that it did. (I've had the pleasure of hearing SEP talk at the Romance Writers of America National Conference.) I've never had the chance to speak to her before, because at RWA she is at a whole different level to little old me. An author pal, Lynne Marshall, who writes medical romance, came to visit and she joined me and four members of our bookclub at the library event.

SEP was a delight. She has a natural approach to public speaking and makes her audience feel like they are conversing with an old friend. She has a bubbly personality and her humor comes through with ease just as it does in her books. She seems very comfortable with herself, is approachable, kind, and always gracious...even when fans rolled up to her signing table with a cartload of older books of hers that required an autograph. And the amount of photographs she posed for was amazing. She must be exhausted at the end of each one of these events. I figured it's like being an actor in a public venue and feeling you must be "on" and presenting your best self at all times. Or maybe not, maybe she was just born that way. ; )

Seriously, if you have never read her books. Go get one. You don't have to read them in order. Some characters from prior books pop in for a visit in some of the newer ones, but each book stands alone. One of my personal favorites is, Natural Born Charmer. But they're all good.

Catching up.

2011-01-17T20:50:00.000-08:00

I have been so negligent about blogging this month. Bad me. Bad because I don't even have a good excuse, I just plain and simple...forgot.

I promise I'll do better. Twice a month, at least. In fact, a friend and I were talking a week or so ago about if and when I'll turn my comments back on. I know the odd passerby must think I'm weird in that I have closed comments. But, back in the day when I first started these ramblings, I was getting comments. Not many, maybe 3-4a day. And then I began to get a half dozen spammers. Always the same ones, and the same messages. I hated that worse than no comments from readers and fellow writers.

In 2006, I turned off the comments and decided to make this a letter for family and friends. Anyone who drops by and doesn't leave spam, I consider a friend. So if I do re-open my comments, don't be shy.

My blog is not so much for writers, as they have far better, smarter, more interesting blogs of their own. And they have dozens, and sometimes hundreds, of followers. And I have nothing to promote. Besides that, I don't offer insights into writing or publishing because I consider myself a perpetual student. There are many intelligent author, industry, and agent blogs around, and their teachings are of more value to a new writer than my weird ass way of looking at the writer's life.

My favorite author sites are:
www.jennycrusie.com
www.lucymarch.com
www.bobmayer.com.
My favorite agent blogs are:
http://bookendsliteraryagency.blogspot.com
www.nathanbransford.blogspot.com (Nathan is no longer an agent but he has a fabulous blog and much industry news to pass along).

I figure, who needs a blog that only provides more random ramblings in their life? Not many.(See, I'm still procrastinating about opening the darn comments.) Why did I close them again? I decided it would serve me and my people to write a newsletter, if they wanted to comment they could send me an email. Simple, yes? My people are spread wide, everywhere across the USA, and Australia, and a few in the U.K. To keep up with everyone is hard to do. This keeps them aware of what is going on in my life, on a fairly superficial basis (the really good stuff just gets told in private email or by phone, ha ha) and I don't have to spend a lot of time updating everyone individually. And that frees up my time for writing.

Speaking of which, I am writing up a storm at the moment. I'm coming into the last quarter of the rough draft of my third romantic suspense. The books are linked through one minor character, a redneck cop, the Southern California desert setting, and the fictitious town of Rancho Almagro. I'm now about to write the big final blowout scene and it's very exciting. Yesterday I began to write my resolution (in my head) as I drove back from Los Angeles. The ending, I think is going to be great because it reflects the beginning I've already written and really like, and it causes the reader (I hope) to stop and contemplate the deeper meaning to the story. So while it might seem to be cops and robbers, and drugs and shootouts, there is an underlying theme. I promise you.

I love to brainstorm as I drive, and yesterday on that two and a half hour trip, I wasn't even thinking about my ending, it just popped into my head. Today, I knew I had to come up with a big scene where my undercover agent fights the big fight and takes down the bad guy, but I didn't want it to be anything like the first and second books. I was out of ideas that were different, yet exciting. I knew the romance part, but not the blowout scene.

Tonight I walked the dog for an hour and tried to think things through, but wouldn't you know it, every man and his dog stopped us for a chat. I came home exhausted; even the dog was tired. I started to cook dinner and all of a sudden the scene was there, playing out in my mind like a mini movie. It is soooooo awesome. I just have to say that. It is really, really, good. I hope that I can put those pictures into words and have it all make sense. Darn, I wish I was a more accomplished writer.

Tonight I will sleep and let it stew. Maybe I'll have some good dreams.

Tomorrow I will write.

Love to all

2010-12-25T08:20:00.000-08:00

It's the holiday season and love is in the air. You can sense it, just like you sense that snow is falling on the mountains in the distance as cold rain lashes you and your umbrella turns inside out, and you can't even see those darn mountains.

This is a wonderful time of year and even though I am not a religious person in the sense of traditional or organized religion, I am spiritual. For me the season is all about love and family, no matter what you celebrate or even if you celebrate nothing. I feel that love of the season everywhere I go, and I allow it to wash over me and warm me. To give back. To open my heart. To embrace. To be of good cheer. I'm not a big shopper or present giver, but the other day someone gave me a little gift that touched me in a big way. It was two candy canes left in their wrappers and glued together top and bottom to form a heart. Dangling on a string from the center of the heart was a gold bow and a silver wrapped chocolate kiss. Hearts, hugs, and kisses. Isn't that what it's all about?

I hung the heart from the lamp on my desk. I'm looking at it now, as I write this. It fills me with comfort and love even though I can't be with family this year, and it's just me and the dog opening our gifts. We're going out for a long walk in a little while, and we both plan to spread some joy.

Smooches from me and the pooch.

Three Books. Three Ten Ratings.

2010-11-30T13:58:00.000-08:00

In the past month I've read three vastly different books, yet they all spoke to me on a deeply spiritual level:

The first was Cutting For Stone, by Abraham Verghese, an epic novel that spans continents and generations. The setting is Addis Ababa in Ethiopia in the reign of Emporer Hallie Salassie, with a later setting of the Bronx in New York. It's a story written from the viewpoint of one of a set of twins as he embarks on a journey of discovery. The twins were born conjoined by a small stalk on their heads, which was severed at their birth, and are the offspring of a nun and a medical doctor. The father freaks out(the nun had hidden her pregnancy under her habit)and as she dies he realizes he loves her, and is unable to save her. The infants become to him the cause of her death and he shuns them and leaves, never to return to Ethiopia but goes on to huge success as an American surgeon. Because of his absence and the death of their mother, the twins (who were adopted by two doctors)are fascinated with the stories about their birth, but also the inconsistincies, and the secrets. One twin grows to make incredible medical discoveries, the other twin (the narrator) becomes a surgeon like the father who abandoned him. It seems to me that they all suffered from Asperger's Syndrome or high functioning autism, and all three men, the father and the twins had extreme difficulty with relationships, and were focused exclusively on one thing.

At the heart of the story is an old African fable that tells of a miserly merchant who wore much repaired slippers even though they were a great cause of derision. When he finally tried to secretly get rid of them, pretending they were not his, he caused harm to others. The slippers in the story mean that everything you see, do, and touch, every seed you sow or don't sow becomes your destiny. The key to happiness is to own your slippers. Own the things you don't like. Own who you are, how you look, your family, your talents, or the ones you don't have. If you keep saying the slippers aren't yours then you'll die searching, you'll die bitter, always feeling you were promised more.

The young surgeon has many struggles in his life and does not really become a man, or a great surgeon, until he confronts and owns who his father is and makes peace. His father's absence in his young life was his slippers.

A great story and even at 500+ pages, it moves quickly. A definite 10 rating.

The second was, The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. This story was originally published in Brazil in 1988. It has gone on to multiple reissues and sold millions of copies. I absolutely adored this book, and it is also in some ways a fable. It is simple at heart, the story of a young sheperd who takes a journey from Andalusia to search for a treasure at the pyramids, only to find the journey itself is the treasure. The writing is lush and magical and draws you in to where you are with Santiago and reliving your own dreams. Listening to your own heart. Following his footsteps and encouraging both him and yourself to find your destiny.

It is less than 200 pages, and is well paced. It also deserves a ten rating.

The third is, The Power of Now, by Eckhardt Tolle. This is non-fiction, and a wonderful addition to my spiritual library. I've always lived too much in my head, and allowed myself to be guided by my never-ending thoughts (some positive, but most negative)and never knew there was such a simple way to stop those thoughts. To live in the now. Tolle's language is easy to understand and the book is written in a question-answer style that provides a certain degree of intimacy with the author.

At 230 pages it is at first a slower pace, until you begin to discover where the author is taking you as a reader/student. Then the pace picks up and the pieces begin to fall into place. I had a distinct realization of "now I get it." One other thing I like is that the author is not aligned with any particular religion but seems open to all. He quotes from ancient masters, the Bible, Tao, and Kabbalah. His main message: there is a way out of suffering and into peace.

This book also gets a ten rating from me.

I double double did it.

2010-11-11T08:05:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I mailed not one but two entries to the Golden Heart contest. Yay!

Both submissions are entered in the same category. Strange, at least when there were other categories to choose from. Right? Well, see here is my thinking, I like both stories and for once in my life I'm certain that the sub-genre of romance is correct for both. So. Bottom line. I'm competing with myself.

But is that wrong?

I don't think it's wrong, because the readers (the contest judges) will all come to the stories with different understandings of what makes a story ready for publication. Based upon their numbered scores, I'll know what is working and what isn't. Kind of, because there are no comments to guide the entrant. I've been entering this contest long enough to know how to recognize what the scores mean. While my growth as a writer has been strong and steady, it wasn't until last year that I made it into the top tier. This year I'm hoping to final. I've said it, I've put it out there to the universe. Oh, the power. ; )

Anyway I'm thrilled with my efforts. I polished. I prepared like I was running a little factory in my house. The printer worked so hard: six partials of each manuscript, six synopses of each story, two full manuscripts on CD, two packages stuffed to the gills. It's a wonder my poor printer didn't explode. And after I mailed them early yesterday morning, I came home and was totally lost. There was nothing to do. It was such a weird feeling. I've decided to take a couple of days off and clear my head, then I'll start back in on Mick's story, which was put on hold at about a third of the way in so I could polish my GH entries.

Life is good.

Contests.

2010-10-29T15:54:00.000-07:00

My most recent manuscript placed second in the romantic suspense category of the 2010Dixie Kane contest. Yay! I love that story. It's the second one in my three book series, set here in the California desert.

Also, I was invited to join the Just Cherry Writers, which is an offshoot of Jenny Crusie's blog. We do a weekly critique of one person's scene. My time in the spotlight was two weeks ago. I posted the opening scene of the story that I'm submitting to the Golden Heart this year. The feedback was fabulous, and the detailed critiques made me look closely at my storytelling. I find it amusing that we often times think we've explained ourselves (or our characters) in great detail, only to find when the material is subjected to the eyes of other writers we find those details that should be on the page are still in our heads. Oy! Anyway, it sure was helpful. Also, critiquing another writer's scene is equally as helpful.

My last story in this series is currently on hold. I love writing it, and actually miss my characters. But, I need to get back to the second one and do a final revision, a spit and polish, before sending it off to the contest next month. And I need to revise the synopsis. Double oy!

Today I whittled down a seven page synopsis to four pages, and it didn't make sense. It's hard to write a condensed synopsis that needs to show both the evolving romance and the plot/suspense, and give the thing a sense of voice. The total number of pages in the submission are 55, and that is inclusive of synopsis. My story ends at a nice chapter break at 52 pages. That would mean a three page synopsis. Triple oy!

Back to the drawing board.

Historic Gold Mining Town

2010-10-14T16:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, a friend and I went exploring. It was a birthday treat for me. We visited Julian, a historic district dating back to the late 1800's and situated 4,500 feet in the mountains above San Diego. It was the most perfect day, bright sunshine but with a cool ocean breeze. A great getaway from the recent triple digit temperatures of the desert.
We took the long route past the Salton Sea, and then turned west on highway 78. We saw cactus and Ocotillo plants that rose to twelve or more feet and lined the area's on either side of the highway, and stretched for miles. Fortunately my friend also finds beauty in the flat desert countryside, because there was a lot of it to see. Then we started to rise and ended up in a two lane, extremely narrow mountain pass with lots of bends. Trees stretched their branches across the road creating a shady canopy. It was lovely.
Julian was once a gold rush town, and is now known for its apple ranches. Some of those are u-pick ranches, but apparently this year the crop wasn't great due to the heavy rains, and many were closed. We didn't care. The town was so quaint, the buildings amazing, the people friendly, and the food and shopping fantastic. We wouldn't have had time to pick apples anyway. We had a fabulous lunch and I was served apple boysenberry pie-ala-mode with a candle. The entire restaurant joined in singing happy birthday to me, and it was embarrassing beyond all belief. But the pie was fabulous. : )
Afterward we shopped. And then we shopped some more. I bought all kinds of knick-knacks. The prices were great too. And there was a brown leather jacket that I wanted so badly, but didn't buy. I mean, I just got home from New York City last Sunday. But anyway, we are going back soon. If it's still there I'll figure it was meant to be and shell out the bucks.
The whole idea in taking this adventure had been to go and pick apples. I intended to take some up to my kids. I planned on baking. I planned on eating an apple a day. On the way back to the car I snipped an apple no bigger than a silver dollar off a tree at the end of Main Street. It's sitting on my desk as I type. Just this cute little reminder of a wonderful trip. I wonder how it tastes?

The moon.

2010-09-25T14:51:00.000-07:00

I've been writing a lot this week. I wonder if it's because of the stage of the moon? Creativity is supposed to increase in the waxing of the moon, or as the moon moves toward full. It was a gorgeous harvest moon, too. That, I think, made for even more energy. Anyway, whatever, I know I wrote my little old heart out.

I'm loving my new story but it's still too soon to give you any ideas about it, or its title. I've had people ask me why I don't have excerpts here on the blog. My main reason is this: I do enter contests. I don't like results to be skewed. What if someone knows my title, and even though the name is removed from a contest entry, they know me and they score it higher than it should be scored. Or maybe they don't like me, and they score it lower. It's a possibility. Not everyone likes me. : )

So, I keep the title to myself, and I don't display my writing. I await contest results, do a weigh and measure of the input given, and then I do a rewrite, and then let it sit. At this point I've already started a new story and somewhere down the line I do a final rewite on the one prior. I'm never satisfied with my work, and so in the past year or two I've stopped sending it out to agents and editors. With my last two stories, I stopped sending after three rejections. Three. That's not near enough. I know. But I figure I'm still learning, and the next one will be better. Is that the truth, or do I repeat the same mistakes over and over?

For instance, I submitted to an agent and an editor after the RWA National conference. Since that time I have reworked both the beginning and the ending of my story. I know it's better than the submission sent in early August. What can I do about that? Nothing. Not a darn thing. All I've managed to do is waste a good opportunity to have someone look at my work. So, how do I alter this so it won't happen again next year? Submit to contests for earlier feedback? Do two rewrites, and then a final rewrite before going to the conference? Did I answer my own question? : ) I don't know. You tell me. Please.

How often do you submit a manuscript? When do you admit that enough is enough, and put the work aside? Do you ever submit the reworked title to the same contest in the year following? How many critique partners do you have? Does anyone else read your work? Beta readers, perhaps? Family or friends? So spill, because curious minds need to know.

Maybe This Time.

2010-09-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

Jennifer Crusie has written a new solo novel, Maybe This Time, and it is exquisite. Absolutely. Pinky swear.

I read the novel in one sitting and didn't even complain when I had to get up at six a.m after falling asleep at 2 a.m. In fact I couldn't write this post until I'd waited a week or two to let the story be fully absorbed. It was so good I had to let it stew for a while.

It is a lush, fast moving story that gives more than a passing nod to Henry James' The Turn of the Screw. Just think contemporary Gothic as you crack those pages. I swear, Crusie is a damn genius.

The setting is a creepy old mansion set in Southern Ohio, in the year 1992, and features all of the Gothic elements I love. You've got the house, the housekeeper, the two rather odd children, the nanny, and then all of the weird and wonderful secondary characters. Throw in the twist that the nanny is the ex-wife of the children's uncle, and the two (who divorced after a whirlwind marriage) are still in love with each other. Well, they are...they just don't know it yet. It's such a feast. Then for a side dish you have a nymphomaniac ghost, hee hee, and a darling middle aged doubting parapsychologist, a crazy mother, an ice queen of a mother-in-law, and did I mention ghosts? And seances?

It's just...well...it's just classic Crusie. I know it has a cast of thousands but they are all so well drawn, and so necessary to the story, and the writing is exquisite. Did I say that already? The romance is subtle and takes a back seat to other elements, but it is still there and the story comes to a highly satisfying ending. Go buy it. You won't be sorry.

So Much For On Location Research...

2010-09-04T13:34:00.000-07:00

I took a trip down to the Salton Sea last weekend, to check out the south side. The north side was nice and I will go back one day and take a few more photographs; however, it didn't work scene wise for what I had in my mind for my new story. A lady friend went with me, and thinking this sounded like quite an adventure, she'd packed a few snacks and a couple of large bottles of iced tea. Thank goodness for her maternal instincts because she saved the day.

I saw Desert Shores come up on the horizon and it was a tiny little place set on the edge of the sea. Perfect. That was what I had visualized. We turned off the highway and ventured past broken down homes, rusted out trucks, establishments that no longer functioned, and the most awful trailer park I've ever seen in my life. But it was so exciting. This was exactly what my story called for. I parked the car on a stretch of sand, grabbed the camera and started shooting pictures. We both felt a bit nervous as there were some strange characters looking out from the partially rusted trailers that were less than fifty feet from us. I made the photography aspect as snappy as I could, and backed the car out fast.

About a mile or so up the road, we heard a strange sound. We thought we had a flat tire and got out to examine each one. Nope. Everything looked fine. Four miles down the freeway we knew we had a major problem. The car sounded like metal was grinding on the road. We pulled over and in the top of the driver side tire there were two huge pieces of wire and the tire was hissing air. It deflated right in front of us. We were on the highway halfway between Coachella and Brawley, which is almost at the Mexican border. I called AAA. They said twenty minutes. We figured no problem, and broke out the snacks and iced tea.

A half hour came and went and no truck appeared. A very nice young man from Border Patrol pulled up. He helped us get the car across to the shoulder, and stayed with us to keep us safe. So there we were, standing at the side of a bright red Camry, on hot asphalt, in blazing noon day heat. We were in the middle of the California desert, chatting with a twenty something young man who had recently relocated from the East coast.

I'd wanted to save the battery on the cell phone so had turned it off. I turned it back on and there was a message from our guy. He'd be a while. I called him back to find out he lived in Brawley, and it would be at least an hour. We'd already baked for forty minutes. The Aussie came out in me then, and I told him it was too bloody hot, and that I'd change the damn tire myself. The handsome young patrol officer hid a grin, and said he'd be happy to help. He changed the tire in five minutes and wouldn't even let me help. I told him he'd be in one of my novels under a different name, but he'd play the role of the handsome hero. He seemed to like that.

While it wasn't his role to change tires on the highway, he was a young man with a good heart, and he wasn't about to drive away and leave us to fend for ourselves. It's so nice to know there are guys like Nick out there. All I could think of was somewhere there is a mother who is very happy with how her son turned out. I offered him $20 but he refused it. I sent a letter to the department, praising him, and thanking them for watching out for women drivers travelling in places that are off the beaten track. I hope the letter was shared with him.

But as for doing anymore research, I think I'll stick to the internet.

Research and other diversions...

2010-08-25T13:41:00.000-07:00

I'm beginning to understand what I previously called procrastination, or diversionary tactics, when starting a new story. I used to wonder why each book scared the hell out of me until I was about two thirds of the way through the rough draft. I thought I was scared to commit. In a way I was, but not to the story, to the discovery of what the story was really about. I was afraid to kick back, spend time exploring, and just let the story unfold.

I now know this was simply the germination stage. You see, when you start out with a story idea it is really quite small. A seed, perhaps. Then it grows and flowers or fruits. Sometimes it will flourish and other times it gets all rangy and needs to be trimmed back, sometimes it dies. But from seed to maturation it needs many things: water, soil, nutriments, sunshine, occasional pruning, bug control, maybe even a different location to help it get the very best of all of these necessary things for its survival. Well, so does a story.

I've been having an enjoyable few weeks in my story idea's unfolding. I've visited the Salton Sea. I've researched abandoned cabins and veritable ghost towns. I've talked with photographers using modern digital equipment and photographers who will never change from their old equipment, plus I've looked into designing an in-home dark room. The funny thing is, all of this will feature in my story in about four or five paragraphs. But it's all part of that nurturing germination stage. A half a day spent to find one fabulous sentence, or one character motivation, isn't wasted time. It's a necessary part of the process, and I might be old-fashioned but I swear it beats doing research on the internet. That can be extremely helpful, but I like to think of it as putting on the finishing touches. The idea, the initial sketch, the outline, those are always taken from life. The color comes from life.

The writer who takes the time to research, to delve into why their characters choose one thing over another, make one choice instead of another, choose this person over that one to spend their life with, well, those are all the little crunchy bits that make those characters fully developed and interesting.

Research

2010-08-12T13:43:00.000-07:00

I've been doing the discovery stage of my new romantic intrigue/suspense, and it has been a lot of fun this time around. I don't have my usual angst going into the new story that I've always had in the past. And that is thanks to Lani Diane Rich. I took her Discovery Class, which runs over six weeks, and came away from it with not just her step by step guidance but a new understanding of myself and my work. I'm a visual learner and that's one of the reason's Lani's classes helped me. I could see her talking, hear her talking, laugh along with her and the other participants. It was just like a classroom, except I didn't have to get dressed or drive anywhere.

One major thing I took away from the course was, I never thought I needed a soundtrack. Maybe just a CD that provided mood. I always have soft music playing and I love all kinds of music, so good enough, right? Wrong. When I made the soundtrack and chose music specific to my characters it changed everything about that story. It ramped up my writing skills, it ramped up my love of my characters, it resonated with me on so many levels. I did the rewrite of my last story, using Lani's techniques, and it came to life in full color. And I'm not an aural learner. Usually I need peace and quiet. Yet, that soundtrack opened me up, it allowed me to get inside my characters thoughts, and to embrace an important aspect of writing that had never spoken to me before.

For me it's always kind of hard to say goodbye to the characters in my latest story because I've come to love them, and I've enjoyed being a part of their emotional and physical journey. Those heroes and heroines consumed so much of my life you'd think they were relatives, and they kind of are. I made them. I made them up in my thoughts and then I transcribed them onto paper. How cool is that?

Now on to the next story and the next hero and heroine. Where to start? Research of course. The blank page beckons. I could stare at it, try to develop new characters, new plot, new love interest, new conflict, new internal and external motivation, and, make it all believable to the reader while pulling my hair out and drinking copious cups of coffee. Nope. This time around, no computer, at least in the early stage. I've gone out into nature and thought my thoughts. I've carried my notebook. After brainstorming with my critique partner, Gina, in the pool at National conference, a new story came to me. I've put aside Dia Sophia, the story I discovered and researched in Lani's class. I'll get to her later.

I now have a title for the new work, a yummy hero, and my heroine who is a spin off from a secondary character in the last story, and they are blooming and coming to life as I walk the dog. Yet they're still in my head. I've done no writing. I have done a soundtrack and almost completed a collage, I have my main casting done, their backstory floats into and out of my thoughts as I go about my daily life listening to their music. This is a strange and unusual way for me to process story but it's working all on its own. It's all humming along. Next week a friend and I are going on location. We'll hike the desolate land that will be a backdrop for the suspense. We'll take photographs. We'll eat in some divy little cafe, we'll visit an abandoned cabin that will become the house the heroine's father left her when he died. I'm beginning to see the villian and understand the part he plays in her life. It's all coming together faster than I can keep up with it, yet still I don't write.

This is all good. Next week I'll be primed and ready, and I'll hit the ground running.

Back from RWA National

2010-08-02T21:08:00.000-07:00

I'mmmmmm baaaaaccckkk! How come it's only Californians that can say that and think it's funny? Hmmm? Ah well, The Gov won't be around that much longer so we have to use the expression as much as we can, have some fun. Something like that.

So, Orlando. What's not to like? We had a gorgeous resort hotel with restaurants galore, five swimming pools, a sandy beach front lagoon that featured Friday night glow-in-the-dark volleyball where the teams painted themselves with glow paint and the fireworks from DisneyWorld lit up behind them. Excellent rooms, fabulous service, lower rates than I can recall at any other conference. I ask you again, what's not to like? Well, perhaps the steam that fogs up your sunglasses when you go from 68 degrees fahrenheit inside the hotel, to 100+ outside. Yeah, you can trip on a sidewalk that way if you're wearing flipflops. Not that I would ever wear rubber thongs. No way! And the sweat. There is absolutely no way to call it ladylike perspiration, this is sweat pure and simple. You walk outside and your forehead beads, then sweat trickles down the side of your face and your neck becomes a freakin' river. Let's not discuss what happens to the breasts, or underneath them. Whew! It was so hot I thought they'd scoop me up with a spoon and slide me into a ziplock baggie and send me home.

All that heat aside, I had a fabulous time. My critique partner, Gina, and I went swimming one night around 8:45 pm and at close to midnight we returned to our rooms in seperate hotels, me in the Dolphin, she in the Swan. We had brainstormed our next novels. It was fabulous just standing in that warm water and talking for hours. Of course we looked like prunes when we got out because our skin was so wrinkled. And we'd been too late to get poolside towels. A bit embarrassing having to walk through the bar section in a bathing suit and mini cover-up dripping water from our soggy butts, but then again who cares? Will we ever see those people again? Probably. Were any of them agents or editors? Probably. I know I didn't make eye contact.

I got a request from an agent in NYC who says she likes mystery and suspense. I hope my story tickles her fancy. The editor I met with was a senior exec at Harlequin and she referred me to another editor, one who handles Intrigue. I'm to send a partial, two chapters and a synopsis. The agent wants the full. I've been at this point before and the end result wasn't good, so I enter into this venture with some trepidation, yet still I enter. :=)

Then talk about synchrodestiny, (this weird s*&t is always happening to me). I sat next to an agent on the flight to Dallas. We talked and she asked if she'd ever rejected me. I said nope but I'd thought about querying her. She said I should. I might just do that. I liked her and we're both Anne Stuart fans. After she saw what I was reading, Ruthless, by Anne, we did a little Stuart squee session and discussed the books we've both loved over the many years Anne has been writing. BFFs for sure. : )

When I got home my dear Nikki went nuts. She licked my face, ran in circles on the tile floors her nails clicking and her tail wagging, then she angled herself at my body and ran full pelt. I knew enough to stand still, legs apart, while she ran between them almost knocking me over. That dog weighs 100lbs. You don't mess with Nikki. After three or four of these games I gradually got her to relax and slow down. She hasn't left my side in twenty four hours. Trust issues, anyone?

I made a lot of new contacts at this conference, and I think networking is important. You never know where a new contact will take you on your journey. I've sent emails to everyone today and already received lovely responses. Also, just prior to going to National I learned The Blue Dolphin had made it into the final round of the Molly contest. My scores were fabulous. I would love to final, don't get me wrong, but even if I don't this feedback has boosted my spirits incredibly. I'll find out the results in late August.

Hachi, A Dog's Tale.

2010-07-18T10:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I purchased the movie, Hachi. It stars Richard Gere and Joan Allen, and some of the most amazing Akita dogs I've ever seen, and I've owned Akita's for over twenty years. I adore the loyal, intelligent, and very regal breed.

The movie is based on a true story about a Japanese Professor from the University of Tokyo and his Akita dog, Hachiko. Hachiko would turn up at the train station at the same time every day waiting to greet his master. When the Professor passed away at the University, from a cerebral brain hemorrhage, the dog continued to wait every day at the same time, for his master to return home. He did this for nine years. A statue was erected at the Shibuya train station and still exists today.

The setting for the American remake of Hachiko's story is a small town (filming was done in Rhode Island) where Professor Parker Wilson finds a puppy wandering around the train station late one evening. He takes it home but his wife doesn't want a dog. While Parker tries to find the owner, or someone who will adopt the pup, both dog and man bond. Hachi becomes Parker's loyal companion and a friendship of family and loyalty spans many years and touches the hearts of a whole town.

I label this a five hankie movie, but maybe I was relating the story to my own pooch who is fast approaching eleven wonderful years of age, and it won't upset you. But I doubt it, so grab a box of tissues, then sit back and let your heart melt. I swear you'll fall in love.

It's July!

2010-07-01T06:51:00.000-07:00

How did July get here, what happened to June? I've been so busy with writing and taking classes, plus a couple of weekend trips, that the month of June vanished. Poof! It was here, now it's gone.

I'm in week four of Lani Diane Rich's workshop called Discovery. It really is turning out to be quite beneficial. I've never explored a story in such depth (prior to beginning to write it) and maybe that's why I've always struggled with internal motivation for my characters. I never seemed to dig deep enough on first or second try and my critique partner would have to remind me. Plot seems to come easily enough, you know, the external factors that make a person do what they do, the shootings and car chases and bar scenes, but emotional reasons, not so much. Now I feel like I've been immersed in the emotional stew of my story and I'm liking it, enjoying discovering those elements of my characters. Who would have guessed?

Last weekend my daughter and I drove to San Diego to explore the Little Italy section. I took a ton of photos but had already done a cut and paste collage before going. Sophia Bush is the placeholder for my heroine, Milo Ventimiglia is the hero, Anjelica Huston is Mama Rosa, and Dennis Farina is Fake Uncle Frank. The title so far is Dia Sophia (the name of my heroine) but that might change as the story unfolds. I like that first collage, but I like my photos too. I think I'll make a second one and print the photos in sepia tones and use it as a history or backstory page. That might be fun.

This week we have to submit a free writing 500 word vignette of our protagonist to the Discovery forums. I was extremely nervous. Having all of those other writers look at my work is like walking into the daylight stark naked. Anyway, by yesterday nobody had posted, so I sucked it up and went first. I hate going first but knew that most everyone was thinking the same thing as me, and someone had to break the ice. We aren't allowed to give constructive criticism only what we like the most about each others scene. Lani says criticism at this point can diminish the creative process. I've had some nice comments made on my work but now I'm wondering what they really thought. Ha ha. The ego, what a dreadful companion to drag through life, eh?

Two books read lately that I thoroughly enjoyed:
I Loved, I Lost, I Made Spaghetti, by Guilia Melucci. I don't usually like first person point of view but this authors voice is enjoyable. Great recipes too.
Think Twice, Lisa Scottoline. Fabulous edge-of-the-seat pacing, a great thriller and all of Scottoline's usual fab characters. Love her work.

Movies:
His Girl Friday with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. Watched and critiqued on Popcorn Dialogues. Enjoyed it for the one-liners, the occasional humor, but all of the screaming and shouting got to me after a while. I guess it was considered humorous back in the day. Today a lot of film is carried by the car chase scenes, or the sex scenes, back then it was the dithering and screaming. ; )

Rented a couple of other movies but have forgotten the titles. Yes, they were that memorable, but am I bitter? Ha ha. Nope. These days I'm into researching movies for my manuscript so I check them out for free from the library. I've found some fabulous older movies that I've never seen before.

A much needed breather...

2010-06-10T17:01:00.000-07:00

We had temperatures hitting 110 degrees last weekend, and even with air conditioning that would cause icicles to form on a polar bear's nose hairs, it was still stifling. The hottest part of the day was from 3pm to 5pm. I couldn't get cool no matter what I tried.

I usually swim every morning and that seems to cool my core, and it gives me the strength to do the normal activities required in life, like go to the bank, post office, market, and so on. If there is outdoor work to be done, windows or gardening or hosing off the patio, I do that in the wet swimsuit. I know, I know...but I just love scaring the neighbors. : ) I think this year we were lulled into a false state by the mild weather in May, then June hit and we jumped about twenty degrees in one weekend. That's got to be hard on a body.

So the general idea in the summer months is breakfast, walk the dog, swim, then take a quick shower and go do what I have to do as fast as I can do it, and then come home strip off my clothes and throw on a loose shift sans the undies and head to the computer to work on my latest manuscript. By three pm I collapse on the couch with a book.(And pray that no unexpected visitors show up at my door, because I look like hell, and I'm terribly grumpy.) Thank goodness we have a gated community with a security gate and attendants, so we get a call from them if there's a visitor or service person. Call it a three minute warning, or enough time to slip on a bra. But the UPS and Fedex are allowed in and they show up unexpectedly, so do the HOA gardners. Then there's the occasional neighbor with some kind of emergency.

Three days ago one of my neighbor friends drove from her block to mine and rang my doorbell. And I was in my usual summer state of near nakedness, but I invited her in. I could tell by her wide eyes and rapid speech that something bad had happened. The evening before, she'd been walking her dog, a tiny black chihuaha named Elvis, and three coyotes came rushing down the pavement of the main road leading to the man-made lake. Two of the animals took off in different directions but the remaining one headed straight for her. She grabbed Elvis tight and scaled a four foot high fence. The bottom part was stone and had a ledge and the top was wrought iron. She said she had no idea how she got over it but knew it was her only choice. The coyote was frustrated and sniffed around on the grass where Elvis had been walking, and then it took off. She said her adrenaline was pumping so hard and fast and she ran the short block back home, and almost became a puddle in the front foyer of her home. It took her an hour or so to realize she'd scraped the skin on her shinbone and had a nice looking bruise forming.

Today we're petitioning the city, and animal rescue, to have the coyotes captured and released into the wild somewhere. We have rocky foothills of the Santa Rosa Mountains behind us and there are all kinds of caves that make for a nice condominium complex for the animals. Of course the state where my friend comes from would just have a bunch of guys go out and shoot the coyotes but, hey, this is California. ; ) I know the animals musn't have been able to wait for nightfall, up in those rocks in 110+ degrees, and needed to come down for water. But it is scary when you have young children and small animals wandering around. There's one young man who has loved to walk his two dogs and his four children around the lake, I guess we won't see him doing that again.

And now for the breather part...

The temperature dropped down to ninety five degrees today. And there's a breeze. And there have been no coyote sightings in two days. It has been such a gorgeous day and I got so much work done outside and inside the house. And, another little respite, I'm not writing anything. Yay! No, seriously, this is because I'm taking Lani Diane Rich's class on Discovery. She has us working on our soundtrack for our next story. Each week we have a new assignment and she advises us to explore our story world, but not start writing yet. We're to read a lot, watch movies, immerse ourselves in the narrative form. I've never written a manuscript this way but am elated. It feels like vacation time. And it's cool...at least by desert standards, and it will stay this way for the next five days. In June! Can you imagine?

Movies watched this week:
Sex in the City 2, absolutely hated it. There was no story.
Why did I see this? It was my friend's birthday request.

Married to The Mob, with Michelle Pfeiffer and Matthew Mondine. Loved it! Why did I see this? Research for my next story.

It Happened One Night, with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. Loved it! Why did I see this? It was a film discussion over at www.popcorndialogues.com And the discussion is about writing and the critiques are done by Jenny Crusie and Lani Diane Rich, and well worth you stopping by. Every Friday at 7pm EST.

Books read this week:
The Piano Tuner, by Daniel Mason. Slow start but an amazing finish. The settings were London and Burma, but mostly the latter. The era was late 1800's. In retrospect I loved it, but while reading it found it a bit tedious due to some style issues the author chose.

Sizzle, by Julie Garwood. Loved it, loved it, loved it. It's a spine tingling contemporary suspense. Setting: Los Angeles and San Diego. Her hero is FBI agent, Sam Kincaid. What a great hero, tall, quiet, and with a Scottish brogue. Wonderful pacing and believable romance.

Wedding

2010-05-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a wedding in Los Angeles. The groom is Jewish the bride Christian. They had both a minister and a Rabbi officiate for the service, and were wed in a gazebo instead of beneath a chuppa. It was all handled so beautifully. As we passed into the outdoor seating area, a young attendant offered us a bowl of stones. We were instructed to take one and wish upon it, and then prior to the entry of the bride and groom, all stones were collected. They were handed to them in a crystal bowl during the service. I'm certain this must have been a tradition of the bride's family but forgot to ask.

Lovely. I adore tradition.

I especially love the Jewish traditions and the huge extensive family that is part of the faith. Everyone becomes family. I got a bit carried away in the Hora (you know the dance in the circle where everyone holds hands and they dance to the tune of Hava Nagila, which means let us rejoice in Hebrew)and I ran into a short step that led up to the stage where the MC was. I was convinced I'd suffered a sprained ankle. My heels were three inch stilletos and I don't wear heels much these days, and I had felt the foot twist a little. (Oh vanity, they name is stiletto). I sat out most of the other dances with an icepack wrapped in a linen table napkin pressed against the ankle and my foot elevated on a chair. Sigh. I'm such a klutz. Today it has a bruise and only a small swelling, and no pain, and I could drive the two and a half hours home with no problem. Whew! That's good, but just in case I'm still babying it.

As the wedding was on Memorial weekend, the grooms father made mention in his speech of those of our countrymen still in the war zone, and honored all of our fallen soldiers. And he reminded everyone that we live in the greatest country in the world. America. As an immigrant, he knows what this country is all about, and he, like me, is forever grateful for the freedoms we often take so much for granted.

The morning I was to leave for L.A., my dog jumped out of the back of the car and landed heavily on her front right leg on the concrete garage floor. She couldn't put the paw to the ground. I waited an hour but there was no improvement. Remember what happened only two months ago? Anyway, my dog sitter and I took her into the vet (why do these things always happen at weekend?) and I convinced them not to muzzle her as last time they'd tried for x-rays they'd been unsuccessful. She almost has a heart attack when they muzzle her and refuses to go along with their plans. The dog sitter and I held her on the x-ray table then when they were about to shoot the x-ray I'd duck outside. We got some fabulous views and it looks like she has some bone spurs around the scapula joint, where the humerus meets it. Might need an arthroscopy if this doesn't get better on its own (and with the aide of anti-inflammatories and pain killers, but not the stuff she had before that made her bleed) so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I'm already out $400 and have nooooo idea the cost of an arthroscopy for a pooch.

I'm thinking positive thoughts, and sending healing vibes Nikki's way. Help me out if you can. ; )

Puff, puff, puff...

2010-05-18T11:42:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not jogging, don't be silly. : ) The puff, puff, is from the little engine that could, because that's how I feel these days. There has been a lot going on in my life, a lot to juggle, but I'm getting there. Wherever "there" is.

I've been up and down to LA several times this month, a workshop, a graduation, a wedding still to come. It's all good but I'm getting rather tired of navigating Interstate 10. The pooch is doing fine and had no setbacks while I was away, but she was extremely happy to see me return. She's such a good companion, and she worries when I'm not here. Heck, she even worries when I walk over to use the swimming pool.

I've been hard at work to complete my latest manuscript (at least the rough draft) and now can let it sit until my critique partner can read the entire thing. We have critiqued each others chapters as we've written, but the entire read through is yet to happen, and that is the most telling part. Will it hold together? Have I lost any threads? Do I need to embellish the theme? Do any of the characters not hold true to form? All good questions, and I'm excited to learn the answers. While I'm thrilled that the story is finished, I know the real work is about to begin. Writing isn't about writing it's about rewriting. Whew! Just typing that makes me tired.

So, the plan is to get the rewriting done before June 6th. Then I'll let it sit until National conference, where I'll pitch the idea to both an editor and an agent. And I'll keep my fingers crossed that either, or both, request to see a partial. I'm very excited about my appointments this year. Then I'll dash home, take another look at the manuscript, and do a final, final polish, and then send that baby on its way to NYC.

In June I'm taking the Discovery class taught by Lani Diane Rich. I'm going to use that six week course to explore writing something bigger, maybe a single title romance, or women's fiction. There will be romance in the story, because it's a woman's journey and for most of the women I know, romance features in some form or other in their life story. An idea has bubbled around in my head for years. In the past I knew I didn't have the chops to write it, but something tells me it's worth giving it my best try.

Conference.

2010-05-06T10:04:00.000-07:00

With the horrific flooding in Nashville, Tennessee, our RWA annual conference found itself displaced this week. The Opryland Hotel was in an even worse situation with ten feet of water flooding out the hotel conference rooms and restaurants. It was so sad to watch that on the news and to think of the tragedies happening in the state, and of the deaths and injuries and loss of homes. My heart goes out to all of those people who have suffered, and I hope and pray they can restore their city as quickly as possible.

But I do have to be honest, I was personally disappointed. I so wanted to go to Nashville. I'd hoped we could find another venue as I really wanted us as an organization to feed our tourist dollars back into that city, or if not, at least the state. But, it couldn't be done. Three months out is not enough time to book a hotel for a huge conference that accomodates 2,500 people, a black tie dinner, and numerous daytime conference or workshop rooms, plus have the room numbers to accomodate everyone. I know that, I understand that, but in a tiny corner of my heart I'm still sad. Maybe we'll make it to Tennessee in future years.

So we've had our hotel reservation deposits credited, our registration for conference still stands, but now we wrestle with the airlines. Ouch! I don't know if they'll honor my flight changes yet. I've put in a call but now it has to go to the reservations desk and they'll see what they can do. I used American Airlines advantage mileage, so it might just cost me a few more miles.

I worry about friends though. Some bought tickets that are unable to be changed, and they don't have travel insurance. Some from the East Coast intended to drive and now have to include the cost of a flight into their budget. I wonder how this will all play out? It must be an awful time for the organization, trying to hustle around and rearrange everything. A lot of our revenue comes from the annual conference, and I know they are doing the best they can do under these unexpected circumstances.

So, we have to go to hot, sticky, middle of Florida at the end of July, in the middle of summer vacation, to a theme park (you can tell I'm not a theme park goer) where there will be far too many kids. I'm still intending to go. I love this organization, and I'll do whatever I have to do to be loyal and show my support.

Orlando, here I come. Sigh.

What to do now?

2010-04-18T16:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, so the pooch is doing okay. She eats grass and throws up every other day or so, but I know that's because she has a tummy ache and is getting a natural antacid. At least there's no more bleeding. She looks good (although frailer) and is active, enjoying her walks, eating well, going potty. What else is there in life? I swear I'm coming back as a dog in my next life, although, knowing my luck I'd belong to someone not as loving as me. ; )

I'm finished with the rough draft of my latest story. What to do now? This is the hard part. I know I have to let it sit unread for a while, then go in and rewrite, revise, reshape once I can read it again with new eyes. Well, they're still the old worn out eyes, but you get my drift. I have the synopsis done and there's this contest I'd love to enter. I've always jumped the gun in the past and sent off three chapters without revising the entire manuscript, and then I've kicked myself when I got the results. Even if I scored high, or placed, I knew what had been shaped over the months of waiting for the results was so much better, and that I'd shot myself in the foot by rushing. You only get one chance to get your work in front of that final editor or agent.

But I want to enter this contest. This specific contest. Not some other contest. I sound like a spoiled brat. But I wonder, is what I have the best I can do? I have shaped this story as I've written. And this time I'm working with a wonderful critique partner. Decisions, decisions. Maybe I'll let it sit for two weeks, and then revise for one. I'd still have time to meet the deadline. I'm beginning to sense a plan forming.

I got my results back from the annual Golden Heart contest. They don't provide comments or critique, just scores, but you can tell by your scores how well your story is received by your peers. There are five judges and the entry is scored from one through nine, with five being average. There are three tiers. This year I made it into the top tier but didn't final, you need to have eighty percent, which I did have but they can only choose the top eight scorers in each category. My scores were great, and I'm very happy, although part of me is sad that I was so close. I felt like the swimmer who came in second by a score of 112th of a second or something equally as ridiculous.

Oh, well. There's always next year. ; )

Sick Dog. Good Books. Comforting Blogs.

2010-04-06T17:44:00.000-07:00

My dear Nikki (an almost 11 year old Akita) became seriously ill the week before last. On the Thursday morning she collapsed in the street when we started out for our walk. Thank goodness a neighbor came by and helped me. He picked her up and carried her back to the house, his comment "She's a substantial young lady" floating on the early morning breeze. Nik at that point weighed in at 108 pounds.

I got Nik to the vet and we couldn't figure out what was going on. She was acting just the same as my boy Akita who lived to be almost 13 (elderly for this breed) and he'd died with a cervical spinal chord degeneration. Nik wouldn't let anyone touch her and even with her being muzzled they were unsuccessful in getting any x-rays. She was given an anti-inflammatory shot and a pain killer, and sent home with a new NSAID drug to be administerd once a day starting the following morning. The plan was to give her a light anaesthetic on the Tuesday and try to get some studies done so we'd know what we were dealing with. My Vet knows that money has been tight lately and she was trying to help me as much as possible without running wild with tests and treatments. I appreciated that.

On Sunday morning Nik refused her medication and wouldn't eat anything. In the afternoon she vomited. I didn't worry too much as she's always had a sensitive stomach. If she gets nervous, that's the first place it will show up. Sunday evening she had a bloody bowel movement, but it was old blood. I rushed her home and took her to the emergency hospital. Four hours later they wanted $2,000 to keep her in overnight, medicate her, give her IV fluids etc. This month is tax month. I said I couldn't do that. I opted for $675 and one IV fluid replacement and pain meds, and something to slow the motility in the bowel. I'm an ex-ICU nurse. I figured I'd stay up all night and tend to her needs, and take her to her own Vet on monday morning.

At one am Nik had bright red blood from her bowel, vomited three times and was in awful pain and discomfort. I got out my emergency credit card and drove her back to the hospital. They kept her there for two days and $3,000+ later I got to take her home. She's thinner, she's been on oral medications, antibiotics and Flagyl for the tummy. She looks good, but is frailer than before.

So, we had the first vet bill, the hospital bill, the carpet cleaning bill, the new medication and diet food bill. Tomorrow I take her for a follow-up with her own vet. Another bill. This has been a harsh month. But you know, with all of the angst and the cost, the hardest thing of all was having to sign the resuscitate/do not resusciate (should she have a cardiac arrest) sheet. I'd taken one look into her trusting big brown eyes and knew she still had quality of life. But that's one hell of an awful thing to have to think about.

What got me through all of the terrors of the last ten days were my writer's blogs. Every time I felt down I'd visit Jenny Crusie's blog, www.jennycrusie.com
or Lucy March's blog, www.lucymarch.com. Just being entertained, or hearing of someone else's troubles was almost enough to cheer me up, or at the very least help me to put everything into perspective.

But the best...the very best cure for waiting for a loved one's results, and then nursing them back to health, is a good book. I read Wild Ride, by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer.

What a fabulous story. I love how these authors write outside of the box. They tell a story that has so many layers. Not layers like in a seven layer cake (you know cake, filling, cake, filling, cake, icing) or a lasagna, where it's all the same. No this is more of a Mexican dip. You ever see or taste one of those babies? Yum. There's cheese, there's beans, there's salsa, there's guacamole, there's...well you get the picture. Jenny and Bob's books are like that dip. Everytime you think you've hit that final delicious layer you find another. And those layers all blend so tastefully together that all you need is a perfect corn chip to give it crunch. Oh, and a Margarita. Definitely a Margarita. And salt.

Anyway, Wild Ride is a must read. I think everytime I reread it I'll find something I missed the first time around. So, there are no spoilers here for anyone who is waiting for the paperback edition.
This is a quote from the flyleaf:
Mary Alice Brannigan doesn't believe in the supernatural. Nor does she expect to find that Dreamland, the decaying amusement park she's been hired to restore, is a prison for the Untouchables, the most powerful demons in the history of the world. Plus, there's a guy she's falling hard for, and there's something about him that's not quite right.
Go get it. You'll love it. It's a suspense. It's a love story. It's full of spit and vinegar. And yet, underlying all of that are the basic needs of family, love, and the need to know that someone has your back.

Great weekend.

2010-03-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

I had a super weekend. I hope you did too.

Mine started out with a shopping spree for a new bathing suit...and I just said this was a good weekend, go figure.

On Friday I'd gone swimming with a gal pal and we were both complaining about our droopy bottoms...not ours of course, but the bottoms of our suits. My friend says it's the chlorine that weakens the material. Hmmm? Why then does the rest of it stay intact? I'm not sure, but I think it happens because everytime I climb out of the spa or the pool I self consciously tug the bottom of the suit to make sure my bottom is covered. You do that too, right? So my theory is, we weaken the elastic by being prudish. If we weren't so shy and just let the droopy bits show, our suits would last longer.

Anyway, I hate shopping for a bathing suit, it's right up there with paying taxes, and going to the dentist, maybe not quite as bad as public speaking, but you get my drift. I thought suit buying would take up the better part of Saturday. My friend and I walked into the store, and I immediately found three suits I liked and everyone of them fit nicely. How about that for luck? One was such a perfect fit and style and color, I was actually excited to buy it. That never happens. I threw in a coverup for good luck, and we went home, changed, and hit the pool.

Today, a neighbor comped me some tickets to our annual art fair in the park. It's a huge four day event. There were even more vendors than in years past, and some of the ceramics, and the iron and brass sculptures, were gorgeous. Of course we stopped at every jewelery stand, and there were a ton of those. There were traditional and contemporary artworks, paintings, glass blown items, beaded suncatchers, you name it it was there. I think it hit 85 degrees today, and there was not a cloud to be seen in the bright blue sky. I invited a friend, and we had a great time. We walked around for three hours. Then we sat by the the lake and ate jumbo dogs that were cooked on the open grill, and we put everything on them, even onions, and had no heartburn. : ) That's always a plus for me.

When we got home, we put our new bathing suits on again and went for a swim. No droopy bottom. That suit is marvellous. And you know what? I think it even makes me look slimmer. And remember, I'd just eaten a jumbo dog. Do you think it could be a magic suit and tomorrow I'll wake up and it will have disintegrated? It could happen, but I really, really hope not.

Bits and pieces.

2010-03-06T13:10:00.000-08:00

It's so strange to have an overcast day in the desert; we take sunshine for granted and probably wake up to sun beaming in our windows 355 days in the year. Today it's overcast, yet warm and breezy. I went swimming this morning and actually shivered when I got out of the water. Oh, no! A shiver! : ) Most of you are still dealing with snow and rain and ice, and while I love it when it snows down here it never lasts for long. I can't imagine dealing with the white stuff for six months or more.

This has been an interesting couple of weeks. I've done a ton of reading. The latest story was Lisa See's book, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. I loved it. I totally enjoy learning about other cultures and this one was a historical set in China. The thing that always amazes me when I read about other cultures, especially when the fiction is about women, is how much alike we all are on that basic level of love and friendship within our gender. This was a sweet yet sad story of a lifelong friendship between two women, soul mates, or as they termed it, old sames. It dealt with everything from their differences in upbringing, to one who fell from grace to another being raised to higher levels than ever imagined, to trust, loyalty, true heart love, pride, and how we can often misconstrue a conversation or letter's intent, and lose years in feeling justified about walking away from a relationship. Ms. See tells the story through the memories of an elderly woman and the narrative voice is pure and touching. I was extremely impressed when I read the four attached pages on the author's extensive research. Definitely a must read for all females who search for the meaning of their relationships with other women.

I haven't seen any movies in the past two weeks as my movie going buddy was out of town. Next week we plan to see The Last Station, I adore Helen Mirren's work. Tomorrow night is the Academy Awards. This is the first year in decades that I can say I've seen almost every movie nominated. It will be interesting to see how my personal critiques hold up. I know who I would give best actor, best actress, and best film awards to, but know they won't get them. ; )

Off to write a new chapter of the book. No more procrastinating allowed.

Books and movies.

2010-02-18T01:41:00.000-08:00

What? You were expecting something different?

I suppose we could talk about the new restaurant I went to, or the great balsamic chicken salad I had for lunch the other day. I can still taste that salad, it was fabulous. Or, hey, we could talk about my weigh and measure at Curves the day after the chicken salad. I didn't lose any weight this month, BUT I did lose inches. That made me feel pretty good. At least the weight stayed the same as the month before, and with all of the dining out I've been doing that was a surprise. I've been adding in more exercise. And my clothes fit better; zippers are staying up when I sit down. ; ) I figure the scale is only a number, but why then does it bother me so much? It's strange how it makes my entire day if I see even 1/16th of a pound loss.

Bookclub was today. We'd read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, by Steig Larssen. I can't say I loved the book. The first 70 pages were rife with exposition and way too large a cast of characters, and all with those difficult spellings and pronunciations. Besides which, the author lost at least two threads in the story, and there was one too many sadistic sex scenes for my liking. It was an intellectual thriller, originally titled Men Who Hate Women, and truthfully I think that was the theme. It was translated from Swedish to English, and I think something was lost in the translation, because the characters came across as cold and unemotional. I have no idea why this book became a best seller as it was clunky in the storytelling. Maybe it was the sex. That sure was graphic. Now that I think about the novel, it was a rather thick and meaty stew that seemed to leave no ingredient out, so something in there for everyone. It had hatred, religious zealots, incest, sadism, corruption, greed, lust, and a forty year old mystery to solve. What's not to like?

On to the movies. I saw Crazy Hearts. I've always been a Jeff Bridges fan, and a fan of country western music, and he played the part very well. Unfortunately, having to watch a sloppy drunk for two thirds of the movie, and suspending my disbelief that Maggie Ghylenhall would fall for such a character, was too much of a stretch for me. Also went to see Extraordinary Measures, with Harrison Ford. Actually, I didn't go with Harrison, he starred in the movie. : ) It was good. A very tender and moving story. I enjoyed the acting and the storyline. When I'd seen the trailer I'd figured it wasn't for me. I couldn't buy into Ford's character, he seemed nasty and angry and I figured that it wouldn't be much fun. But Flo wanted to see it. He played the role of a jaded but dedicated scientist brilliantly, and I adored the character. I'm so glad my friend had insisted on this one.

Then I watched Precious. Oh my, what an amazing bit of acting. For those who are squeamish about the visuals of physical and sexual abuse, you might want to psych yourself up for this one. While most of the scenes are not too graphic, or fade out quickly, there is a lot of emotional abuse. The shouting alone has you on the end of the seat and sometimes with the noise, the soft spoken girl, and the dialect, you can miss out on parts of the dialogue. A good one to rent and watch at home. I swore I would never complain about my life again after seeing this movie.

My writing is going well, and I'm enjoying my new story. It's a romantic suspense set here in the desert. I love my hero. Seriously. Today I recieved a CD set for 24 online lectures that I'd ordered last week. The topic might seem boring to you: Building Great Sentences: Exploring the Writer's Craft. But it's a fascinating study. I've already listened to two of the courses. The lecturer has a great voice and it's well-modulated. He's pleasant to look at, and stands at a lectern as he lectures. He doesn't patronize, he smiles occasionally, uses his hands when he talks, and is confident and at ease. Feels just like college, except you don't have to get up early for class, or get out of your pj's. : )

Life, it's for the half dead too.

2010-01-26T08:15:00.000-08:00

A friend and I decided at a New Year's Eve party that this year we'd make one evening each week into a dinner and movie event. Part of the reason for doing so was we realized how easy it is to stay home, curl up in our pj's, and eat whatever we wanted while slipping a rental movie into the CD player. When you live alone that becomes a problem because the dog really doesn't have any input into the movie, even if you ask really intelligent questions. My friend is older than me, but much more active. She's just what I need to get me out of my quiet existence. Because, well hell, that has just become boring.

Going out keeps me fresh. It makes me feel like a grown-up. I dress up a little, (even put on make-up) dine out, watch people, hear other conversations. Plus, I get to share. We discuss our thoughts on the movie afterward, along with other items in the news or our own neighborhood. Neither one of us is into gossip, which in itself is refreshing. For too many years now I've played the role of a recluse. I know, I know, it suits that whole writer personna. But I'm not really a writer, I'm a fake. I haven't published anything in years and the way publishing is going, I might never have that chance again. And half the time I'm playing around on email, internet, and blogs, instead of working on a manuscript. But that's going to stop. I'm re-energized. The latest manuscript is being looked at daily. While I haven't yet made huge inroads there are a few slightly trodden pathways emerging, and I'm getting into a rythm again. The pulse of the story has a nice steady beat. And it's darker, much darker than I've ever written before.

Back to that New Year's Eve party. I realized I'd become anti-social. I used to love going out. I liked people. Then my life began to change and disappointments seemed larger than they actually were. I withdrew. Now I didn't do that consciously, and I can't even pinpoint exactly when it started to happen. But looking back I can see that somewhere along the way I became a bit jaded, and the more I hid the more I stayed hidden.

So this being a new decade, it required some new thinking. Look out world. I'm breaking out. Ha ha. It might seem to you that it's only in a small way, this going to a movie thing. But remember, when you add that to my end of the last decade decisions to rejoin an old critique partner, to join a ladies gym, and to join a book club, well, hell. Maybe there's hope for me yet! I might get back into the swing of living instead of just existing.

I Love Things that Happen in Three's.

2010-01-13T14:27:00.000-08:00

Except death, of course. Three friends lost loved ones last month. It's so hard to find the words to bring comfort, to somehow make it better, easier. I get tongue tied over death because the words seem trite, like I'm quoting from a sympathy card or something. It's easy to send a card, food, flowers, or a good book, but it's never the same as giving a big fat warm hug, just holding your friend and rubbing circles on their back as you squeeze them tight. I'm convinced there just are no words.

Anyway, on to more pleasant things in threes. I read three wonderful books in the last month. The first was Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, by Jamie Ford. It's a wonderful story that looks at the cruelties of war and how we regard others. It reflects back on Seattle during World War II, and the internment of Japanese/Americans, and follows the journey of a a twelve year old Chinese/American boy and his first love, a second generation Japanese girl who is cruelly parted from him. I won't discuss it further because we may elect to read this one for our next bookclub, and I'd hate to leave spoilers.

In my opinion: If you are interested in indepth stories of humankind, what makes us tick, and a touch of American history, then this is a must. It will leave you all warm and tingly.

The second book was from one of my all time favorites: Barbara O'Neal/Samuels.
The Secret of Everything. I adore Barbara's voice and her characters are always so well drawn. Tess is involved in a tragic accident when leading a hiking tour. She heals as much as possible at her father's beach hut, but still blames herself for her friend's death. Knowing she has to get back to work, she takes on research of Las Ladrones, high in the New Mexico mountains as the next adventure tour for the company, but she has a history there that dates back to her childhood. Part of her quest is to unravel mysteries of her past, come to a better understanding of her roots and her own strange upbringing, and get the tours restarted. She meets up with Vince, a widower with three young girls, who has his own past tragedy. Together they embrace the home and the family both have ached to find.

In my opinion: A must read for anyone who loves a happily ever after. And the recipes. Do not read this one while hungry. : )

The third book was Echoes, by Maeve Binchy. I used to love reading Ms. Binchy's stories in the eighties then for some reason she slipped off my radar. I think I got all caught up with writing and went in several different directions with that, plus I was raising kids...hmmm? not really certain why she slipped away from my sweaty little fingers, but all I can say is this was a treasure. A real find. A real keeper book.

First let me say it was the cover that caught my attention. It almost leaped off the shelf and fell into my arms. The yellow gold and deep red, the red polka dot skirt, the old fashioned red shoes...just gorgeous. Then I read the back cover copy and was sold. I don't think I even turned to the first page in the bookstore, which is my norm. I trusted my memory of her voice. And what a beautiful voice it is. Ms. Binchy is an Irish author. Her voice is full of the heart, and love, and whimsy of her native country. Nobody does Ireland better. The story covers a young girl's life from age eleven through about twenty-one. It's more than a family saga, kind of a small town saga because the townsfolk feature in each phase of the girl's growing up years, and even the bad guys are loveable. : )

In my opinion: if you love stories of small towns, of family, of real life that makes you laugh one moment and tear up the next, this story is for you. It's a treasure of a story that will leave you thinking about it for weeks to come.

Happy reading!

The one hundredth post!

2009-12-31T13:42:00.000-08:00

Yay! Confetti toss! Drum Roll! It's my 100th post. This is a magical day, the last day of the year, the last day of the decade, and there is a blue moon tonight. How about that, huh?

This morning, I bought three quick picks in the SuperLotto when I stopped at the gas station to fill up the tank. The first number is for me, next for my daughter, last for my son (it's an age thing). I didn't even look to see what it was worth, just wanted to test my luck. : ) Also it's probably my last ticket as I'm putting lady luck behind me. From now on that three dollars will be put to better use.

This has been a crazy ten years for me. I've taken from it some life lessons that I hope will serve me better in the next decade. I'm working on being less spontaneous when it comes to life changing decisions, no more trusting to luck and chance and just "going for it" whatever the it of the moment is. I'm weighing pros and cons. But no more procrastination either. Nope. I'm being responsible for my actions and doing my research before making any decision these days.

Thanks for sticking with me, even though I turned off the comments section. I do appreciate the emails you send. Have a happy, healthy, and prosperous New Year, and I hope 2010 will be a sweet introduction to an amazing decade.

Reading.

2009-12-13T12:19:00.001-08:00

I read a lot. Probably more than I should, but I can't honestly think of a better pastime.

When I was a kid, my mother would always ask me, "Who are you this week?" It seems I took on the mannerisms of the heroine in the story and put those newfound traits into practice. Not an easy thing to do when you are one of seven children and being raised in a family of modest means. Imagine when I read a Regency and thought I was deserving of a lady's maid, and a hero both wealthy and handsome, and was told it was my turn to feed the chickens. There was, I'm sure, a lot of deep sighing going on, although I seriously cannot remember as I prefer to think of myself as a pretty darn good kid. : 0

It takes a very special book to sweep me away, and many written for today's market leave me wanting. I find little that strikes me as new or different. I don't particularly enjoy science fiction or fantasy, definitely not erotica, find most romances are repetitious. I prefer to read about people I would like to know, or whom I can relate to, and love to watch their lives unfold. Recently I read The Help, by Kathryn Stockett.

Now, I did not grow up in the American South, not even in the USA. I grew up in Australia and knew little about the race problems in America, other than what we learned in school, until I moved here in the seventies. That caused me to wonder why this story about white women and how they treated their help in the sixties, touched me in such a deep way and why I couldn't put it down. Why I loved and understood all of the stories characters, even the mean ones. But of even greater interest to me, is that the person I related to most was not the white woman, but Aibeleen, the middle-aged African American maid. She was a strong and wonderful character and I was rooting for her the whole story.

I think what hit me the hardest about this story was both Caucasian and African American people were stuck. They were trapped by their elders' beliefs. Racism is taught. It's not inherant. The heroine was trapped by her own upbringing, her own family's feelings, her fiancee and his family's feelings, her friends beliefs, but she did risk a lot to take action and expose some of the cruelties of the time. But Aibeleen, she was the real heroine. The risks she took were by far the greater.

I think what made Ms. Stockett's story believable, is she wrote from her truth. She'd grown up in the south in the sixties and had an absent mother, and was raised by an African American nanny whom she adored. It came through on the page. She deftly painted her characters with sensitivity, honesty, and true understanding of both sides of the social structure and the cruelties of those times. I think. She didn't preach. She didn't dress it up. She told her story simply, as she had experienced it. We're discussing this story at our next bookclub meeting. But what I would love to hear are comments about this story from African American women.

Thanksgiving.

2009-11-26T15:55:00.001-08:00

I love this time of year. All the kids come to see their parents who live here in the desert. They bring grandkids. It changes the look and feel of this development. All of a sudden we have strollers and tricycles, and whole families out on bicycles. It's great to walk the dog and just soak it all up.

My kids are on the way. Thirty minutes to go, but who's counting? The house smells so good. Turkey, gravy, two kinds of pie, cornbread...have to confess I did sample the cornbread. But I didn't even take a sip of wine. A couple of days ago the local newsman was at the market and interviewed a woman, who looked to be about eighty and who was buying a turkey. He asked her what made a successful turkey dinner. She said the trick is to think of it in fifteen minute segments. Every fifteen minutes you have a sip of wine and baste the bird. I'm good for about one glass of wine, then I'm buzzed. I'd probably drop the bird on the floor and have to go by the three second rule, plate it, slice it, and serve it and not tell a soul.

Anyway, just wanted to take a moment before I have to make gravy and wish everyone an absolutely wonderful Thanksgiving, whether you're celebrating or not, it's a great time to reflect on what makes you happy and what makes you give thanks.

Same Old Same Old...

2009-11-16T11:05:00.000-08:00

Not much going on in the past few weeks. The writing/publishing world is getting crazier by the moment. Nobody knows what's happening, or which road to take these days. I'm just quietly typing away and minding my own business, and trying to stay away from blogs that are negative, who needs that toxic stuff in their life anyway?

There's a new romance e-publisher in the mix, www.carinapress.com is their site. They're under the umbrella of Harlequin Enterprises yet say they are a seperate company and don't follow the rules and regulations of Harlequin/Silhouette. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

I went up to L.A. for the weekend to attend my chapter meeting but after spending Saturday shopping with my daughter, my poor old knee was swollen and sore. I'd vacuumed the house, then used the steamer vac on the dining room and living room on Friday, then driven the two and a half hours on Saturday morning. Then topped all of that off with shopping. Yikes! Anyway, Sunday morning I was limping. I decided to ice the knee down, take a few slugs of extra strong coffee and drive home. Fortunately after some medication, ice bags, and significant time spent on the couch followed by a good night's sleep, it feels okay today. Whew! I managed to dodge that bullet, no doctor visit in sight.

Last week I finished judging six contest entries set in the Regency period. They were all good, one was outstanding. It made me look at my own writing again (not that I write Regency romance) but to try to get a feel for how a judge might read my submission. Couldn't do it though. It's so hard to judge your own work, if not impossible. This week I'm preparing my Golden Heart entry and thinking it doesn't stand a chance in hell. Oh well, I paid my money so might as well continue on. : )

I decided to purchase a couple of books printed by Samhain Publishing to see what the editing was like. Read Maya Banks, Into the Mist. What a neat story. The writing was excellent, the pacing was great, and I was invested from the first pages and even though the love scenes were pretty steamy (and I normally don't read those) I thought they were necessary for the main character to show her developmental arc. Also, the hero was a shapeshifter who shifts into mist, and he was delightful.

In my opinion: it was a really good read, and I'd highly recommend it.

Doom and Gloom!

2009-10-31T16:18:00.000-07:00

Everywhere I turn these days, whether it's a writer friend's blog, or the professional blog of an agent or editor, or a writing magazine, I read of the doom and gloom surrounding publishing. It's depressing. :( So stop it already! I don't like being depressed!

While I understand the fears of many writers, and have read many interesting articles on the topic of publishing, there really isn't much that the writer can do but wait and see how it all plays out. Digital, print on demand, e-books, print books, Kindles and other reading devices, it doesn't matter, the written word will be around for years to come. I feel there is an overreaction like, "The sky is falling, the sky is falling!" Psssh! Just go write another damn story. And make it the best one ever.

None of us need to become dinosaurs. We have to fight dinosaurism. It's a very contagious disease, and believe me, the older we get the easier it is to catch it. We have to continue to learn, to understand, and stay abreast of the changes. We have to be technologically savvy. We need to accept advice, look for alternatives, weigh the pros and cons, and then move forward. It's all about moving forward, and who better to understand that than a writer of fiction?

And we don't need to explain our decisions, or actions, to anyone. Not friends, not family, not writing chapter mates. Just do what feels right. Do what makes you happy. Do what brings you a sense of fulfillment. And if all of that means swimming around in a little pool instead of the big one, do it, just plan on being the best damn swimmer in your pool. Self publish, e-book publish. It's all good.

New York print publishing houses will always be around, but also remember they've always been selective. The risks are greater for them today than in years past. While they've always been disproportionate in how they've distributed advances against royalties, we have to remember the top earning authors who get those big bucks are the ones that keep the house afloat and allow more risk taking for we lesser mortals. The big houses have there own agenda, we just have to make sure we have ours and don't live in perpetual dreamtime. Along with the dinosaurs.

Birthday week!

2009-10-15T10:06:00.000-07:00

So, the birthday week is now officially over. Whew! It was busy. Between outings, telephone calls from overseas, email cards to chuckle over, gorgeous long-stemmed red roses from NYC, and numerous birthday cards in the mail, I feel very loved.

I had a lovely lunch at Melvyn's in Palm Springs. Friends took me there to celebrate. It's an old restaurant and part of what was once a private hacienda. It's on the side of the Ingleside Inn which is a romantic little hideaway boutique hotel. It's been in PS for a long time and has attracted all of the late greats like Sinatra and Dean Martin, and even though it's a block from the main drag it feels like you're out in the country. Huge big eucalyptus trees provided shade and palms swayed in the breeze. The patio had a ceiling of grape leaves, fake, but gave a nice cooling effect and the crisp white tablecloths were offset by cobalt blue glassware. The food was delightful and the servings way too big. Had one of the best Cobb salads ever and it was prepared tableside in that old "we're really out dining not just eating way".

A writer friend was in town, so the day after we went to Tommy Bahamas Restaurant. It's upstairs above the store on El Paseo. El Paseo is the Rodeo Drive of the desert with all types of specialty boutiques. Anyway, the restaurant overlooks the valley and is patio style dining to capture the breeze. When our food arrived we both gasped. The servings were huge. I'd decided to go with a beer battered fish sandwich (because I'd had enough of salads for a while) and man, that thing hung out on either side of the bun. : ) It looked like a whole darn fish. It was wonderful and I'd decided to forgo dessert when the waitress came by with a huge tray of scrumptious looking confections. She said dessert is on us because it's your birthday. We both looked at the tray and said Key Lime pie, but we'll share one slice. It was one of the best I've had in a long time.

Then the weekend hit and I thought I'd better stick to crackers and water as a month ago I'd joined Curves and Monday was my first weigh and measure. Not really fair, I didn't think. Anyway, Sunday evening another friend had me over to celebrate by cracking a bottle of Merlot, and of course we had to have cheese...and crackers. Sigh.

Monday I limped into the gym with all kinds of excuses at the ready and found instead I'd lost both pounds and inches and they were thrilled. Who'd have known? Geez, I could have had my own slice of pie.

Honorable Mention.

2009-10-03T16:35:00.000-07:00

That has such a good sound, doesn't it? : )

It's not first place, not even third, but very honorable. I'm proud to say my manuscript, Saving Sarah, received an HM from the SOLA chapter of RWA's 2009 Dixie Kane Contest. Yay!

This is a story I loved writing, but haven't done much with as far as submissions go. I never knew how to label the story, paranormal or romantic suspense. I had the distinct impression that paranormal was waning, possibly because there was so much paranormal in young adult fiction and everyone was jumping on the band wagon, so I think I had tried to make it romantic suspense. And it really wasn't. I had submitted it to a couple of editors who accept unagented manuscripts, and to one editor I'd met at a conference. It came close, went all the way to a full manuscript request, but then they passed.

Jenny Crusie took a look at the first chapter and gave me some excellent advice. I knew the entire manuscript needed another complete editing pass so set about slowly doing that while I wrote another story, a mystery. I began submitting that, but focusing on a handful of agents only, then started a second mystery. (One of these days I'll get smart and really focus on submitting to dozens of agents, but that's hard for me and another whole blog topic.) And for some reason I sort of forgot about SS. I entered the contest, can't quite recall why, and then forgot that I had. So this was a very pleasant surprise.

Now I'm wondering if maybe I should take SS out and give her another twirl. Let her dance in the daylight for a bit. Maybe even send out query letters to agents. It couldn't hurt. I'll wait and see what comments the judges have made, do a quick revise if necessary, and maybe, just maybe get it out there again. I do love the story, and the setting. I've spent some time in Manhattan, and back when I was married we used to go up to the Catskills with the kids and their grandma, so I focused on both of those settings. And I love my main characters. In fact I adore them.

So yeah, I think Sarah will get a second chance.

Writing again!

2009-09-24T08:40:00.000-07:00

I'm back to writing again. Yay! Still taking Lani's Revision class. I've really missed writing. The thing was, I didn't find too much that I wanted to change in my computer read of the manuscript. Now we're into the first Act. The opening scene needed some revamping just to give it a bit more zing. I like how it is now but will get some feedback from my new critique partner.

Well actually, she's an old critique partner, just not old in years. : ) Gina and I belonged to The Four Fabulous Fictionists about four years ago. Then one of the gals moved away, and a new one took her spot, then I moved away, and Gina moved even further away, and three of the gals got published and had deadlines and other more important stuff to do. So we disbanded but were still out there for each other and available for a brainstorming session online, or a cold read of an ms. or to read revision requests from editors. Not the same thing as our fun days of face to face critiques but still helpful.

I'd also thought that I'd lost some of my creative spark, was losing my natural voice, so I decided to go solo. Four years later, I'm ready now to try this critiqueing thing again and I think strong enough in craft to know when I want to make a change and when I don't. Back in the day I wasn't secure enough in that knowledge and found everything so frustrating. Too much information can be as bad as none at all. : )

Last night I got back to my latest story, another desert murder mystery, and the fingers were flying. I haven't looked at this ms. for about three months. I'm lovin' it.

Reading and More Reading.

2009-09-14T13:34:00.000-07:00

I've become like a fat cat this summer, lying around in my special chair, sun streaming in the window, air conditioning blowing gently through my fur...ah...hair and reading romance books. The only thing missing has been the mistress of the house bringing me my vittles in a cut glass dish, but I can dream.

One morning last week I got out of bed and jumped on the bathroom scale. Oh dear. In exactly two months (I know this because I know what I had to weigh to fit into my clothes for RWA National) I had gained five whole pounds and a few ounces. I was disgusted with myself and fumed through my low calorie breakfast. I did an extra mile walk with the dog, arrived home sopping wet, and after a shower fell back on the bed exhausted. But not too exhausted to be unable to read. Oh no. Reading is my new passion.

After an hour to finish one of Nora Roberts earlier books, Opposites Attract, a story about a female and a male tennis pro, which by the way had great action scenes, I called Curves. It's a great little gym with world wide establishments. A neighbor and friend works at my local place. She'd been trying to get me to join for a year. I was worried about my knee, so resisted. (That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.) : ) Anyway, I love it. Making this move, having the courage to admit I was turning into a sloth, was good for me. I've cut back on calories just a little, nothing dramatic. Already I've lost a pound and a half and it isn't even a full week. I feel better too. Yay, me!

Favorite reads this month:
The Prince of Tides, Pat Conroy. I'd never read it back in the mid eighties when it was first published. Guess I was too busy then with husband, kids, work, etc. Besides that, it wouldn't have appealed to me. It would have scared the beejezuz out of me. This story is so powerful, it deals with truly unforgettable characters, set in the US south, traversing three generations, a family with a horrific past and a desire to overcome their tragic legacy. It is honest to a fault. The prose is beyond eloquent. It made me stop sometimes, hug the book to my chest and cry just from its pure depth and beauty. I'll never, ever forget it but doubt I'd have the strength to read it again. I couldn't read anything for days after I finished this story and it still rattles around in my mind. When I regain my courage I might go out and buy South of Broad, which is Conroy's latest novel after a long hiatus.
To summarize: mind blowing.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbery. This was written in French then translated into English by Alison Anderson. I loved this story, once I reached the end. It was then one of those stories where you sit back and say, "Aha. Now I get it." All the pieces fall into place and it becomes extraordinary.

BUT, and I must say this, at first I didn't like it. It took me over 100 pages to get a feel for the two protagonists. One middle aged, the other a pre-teen, both had similar philosophies on life, both seemed cold, aloof, and in some ways patronizing. Both characters wished to hide from the world their true nature and their above average intelligence, because they thought the world would not understand or accept them. Both were extremely well read and knowledgeable. I felt I was taking a class in philosophy from a professor who looked down his nose with disdain at the dumb students. It irritated me. Then I forced myself to stay open, to listen to what the heroine had to say, and ended up being enthralled.

To summarize: exquisite.

In Limbo.

2009-09-01T10:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I haven't been tinkering with the manuscript. Haven't even been writing anything on the one that's two thirds done in rough draft.

This is hard. Every day I get itchy fingers to write, but I'm taking the time off that Lani recommended prior to taking that course in revision. I'm doing a lot of reading, and some movie watching. I did two non-fiction articles just to keep myself occupied and I've been playing a lot on other writer's blogs. But it's not the same.

This is a strange time of year, here in the desert. I suppose it's like winter in some of the northern states. When the weather is bad you stay inside. For us our winter is the prime season, it's so mild and encourages outdoor activity that after moving here from Los Angeles I had to change my writing habits. Instead of writing more seriously from October through April, I now write like a demon in the summer because it's too darn hot to do anything outside after about 10 a.m. Not this year though, it seems I'm in limbo. Playing that waiting game for the course to commence, waiting to hear back from agents and editors after the National conference. Waiting on a couple of contest entries. Waiting. Waiting. Can't wait for these next two weeks to be over so I can start on the manuscript again. Boy, if I ever truly thought I could give up this writing game I now know it's impossible. I once quit. I lasted two weeks if I recall correctly.

Best book read in the past month: Circle of Three, by Patricia Gaffney. This was an achingly beautiful story. I loved it so much and it touched me on so many levels that I had to read it slowly, think about it during the day as I did other things, then curl up in the late afternoon for a couple of hours and read a bit more. I truly savored this book, usually I'm a glutton. : ) It was a story that made me think, gave me glimpses of recognition into my own heart. A woman's story definitely. It spoke of the truths in the relationships of women spanning three generations, a grandmother, mother, and daughter. It also looked at guilt, death, compassion, anger, and love. I'll treasure this one always and know I'll read it again and again.

Best movie seen in the last month: Nanny McPhee. Seriously. : ) It's a kids movie but one I enjoyed so much I saw it a second time. I think it was released in 2006 but I missed it, (probably because I'm not yet a grandmother and don't pay much attention to what is currently around for children). Anyway it starred two of my favorite actors, Emma Thompson and Colin Firth. Plus there was a young boy, Simon, played by Thomas Sangster, a star to watch and that's for sure. I love this kid. He was also in Love Actually, another Brit film that is a personal favorite. Anyway, if you haven't seen it, check it out. Even if you haven't got any kids to watch it with, it is bound to warm your heart.

Back to School.

2009-08-14T16:50:00.000-07:00

This is the most perfect time for me to take a class. I'm always envious of anyone returning to school and as this is the season, yeah, I've been turning a pale shade of green. There were no funds allocated for any continuing education for this year and two years ago I quit taking a fall workshop. I was getting itchy when along came Romantic Comedy author, Lani Diane Rich. My savior.

Lani is trying a new type of classroom experience with a live feed and a back up audio. Questions will be asked during the lecture, making it more like the actual classroom, and I think it should work well. She's a good teacher from all accounts and will be able to keep a tight grip on the students and not allow too many digressions. We've been advised to put our manuscripts aside and not work on them until class starts. The old let them simmer for a bit and see what flavors come to the fore. Also, we've been told to stock up on supplies. Oh goody! A trip to Office Depot. All of those sticky notes, and colorful markers, and highlighters, and colored pencils, and...

Lani has set up online Forums and we future students are getting to know each other already. What she plans to do is use us as guinea pigs. : ) For 50% off her six week class, we will help her to iron out any hitches or glitches in the program before she gets it up and running full time in the fall. We start in mid-September and I can't wait.

I've always enjoyed Lani's writing and look forward to every new release. She definitely has the humor gene I never inherited from my parents. I envy her that, too. I like her quickness of thought. She offered two classes, one called discovery, the other, revision. I chose revision but seriously wanted to do both. I've never taken a revision class before and am looking forward to this. I've recently finished a manuscript and although it has an amateur sleuth I'm not sure of its sub genre. I'm pretty sure it's a romance but if it is a romantic adventure, a mystery with romantic elements, or a contemporary mystery with romance, is anybody's guess. I'm hoping that through this class I'll be able to identify the story's strengths and weaknesses, and embellish both to know for sure what it is I've written. That would surely help with querying and marketing, don't you think?

For more on future classes of Lani's, or to check out her books, please visit her new site: www.storywonk.com

What color is your manuscript?

2009-08-06T11:42:00.000-07:00

I had lunch with a writer pal, Lynne Marshall, some time ago. We met halfway as we live three hours apart and chose the small town of Monrovia just off the 210 Fwy. What a delightful main street. All of the shops and restaurants were trimmed in nice woods and hunter green and people were actually out walking. Go figure. I felt like I'd stepped back in time.

We had a great Italian lunch at Bela Sera and nobody hurried us out. We spent a couple of hours there chatting about writing. Lynne writes medical romance for Harlequin Mills & Boon. I think to date she has something like six books out and a couple more in the works. We talked about her current story, now in its first draft, and she said she would let it sit for a couple of weeks before rewriting. I said something about taking a vacation then coming home and adding in all the good stuff. She said, "You're right. I'll color it all in." And those words stimulated this blog post.

On the drive home I thought about Lynne's words, and have often done so since. Lynne's stories have a richness of emotional layers. I imagined her stories in color and sensed vibrant reds and purples, rich dark greens and vivid blues. And always a touch of sunny yellow to counteract the dark storms of relationship and medical catastrophe. Her stories always have romance, of course, but there are also deep layers of medical illness, babies being born, work tensions in her make-shift hospital, emergencies, near death situations and family issues. I've given up trying to read these stories when I travel by plane as they always make me cry. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing, I just don't want to arrive looking like I've been dragged through some emotional storm of my own. : )

Anyway, that got me to thinking about what colors I would use if I were coloring in the pictures of my own stories. I've tried my hand at several romance sub genres trying to figure out where my voice could do its best work. I don't write erotica so no pulsing red for me. I tried paranormal but they were more like paranormal cozies, nice witches and ghosts. : ) Then I tried romantic suspense but wasn't writing dark enough for today's market, so not enough black color.

Am I a pastel writer? Yikes! I don't want to do watercolors. I want big bold canvasses heavy with oil paint. I finally sat down and looked for the core or the ongoing theme in my stories and found they all held a mystery but they also included romance and family issues. Not what you would call a cozy, I don't think, but definitely mystery at the forefront. So I shifted my focus to concentrate on the solving of the mystery and made my protagonist an amateur sleuth. The first story is finished, rewritten and currently being polished. I loved writing it. The second one is almost done in first draft. In these two stories my colors are richer, definitely more oranges and hot fuchsia pink, dark browns, and grays. The second one may even have some black. ; )

So, what color is your manuscript?

Back from RWA National Conference!

2009-07-21T20:52:00.000-07:00

What a difference a year makes. Last year I attended the conference and didn't find much I liked. I honestly thought it would be my last time. Now if I'm being perfectly honest, it could have been my emotional state that cast a pall on the occasion. I'd had recent knee surgery and was still in pain and I topped that discomfort by getting food poisoning. NOT a good time.

This year was the complete opposite. I had a fabulous time. Washington D.C. was lovely. I even pitched for the first time in two years. I've been writing steadily, two manuscripts in twelve months, but I've also been exploring new ideas. In addition, with the recent changes in the industry I had decided that if I never got published again it was okay. That understanding helped me to relax, to look closely at my work, to define it better, to be less needy, to pitch the concept to an agent or editor in a confident manner. I've finally accepted that I have no control over their decision anyway so why worry, right?

I had the pleasure of hooking up with an old friend from LARA, plus one of my chapter mates. We three buddied around and all had the same idea. This year we planned to attend as many workshops as possible. Honestly, I haven't done that since my first conference in 2002. Were my feet sore! It was lovely to see Gina again. After four years we picked up right where we left off, a true sign of a good friend. She's just as delightful and sweet as ever, only thinner and prettier. Darn her. But then again, she's only in her early thirties, so I have to remember that. : )

There were many great workshops, meetings in the bar, the Jenny Crusie Cherries dinner at an Italian restaurant. A lot of fun. Got to sit near Virginia Kantra and her husband. Lots of heated discussion on paranormals, shapeshifters, animals of all kinds, sex, and romance. It was like a mini workshop.

Had a roam through Georgetown with Trish and a lovely dinner by the water. Seafood. Yum! Our conversation was deep, emotional, and touched on the reasons for the dissolving of my marriage many moons ago. I have to admit she made me cry, but in a good way. Had another light dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant near the hotel and can still taste the Baba Ganouche. Now I'm hungry thinking about it.

The Awards ceremony was a ton of fun. Krissie, Anne Stuart, was a scream. She did a half dozen costume changes, my fave of course was when she wore the Nun's habit and rode around the stage in her motorized wheel chair. The movie clips were great and the background music had me dancing in my chair. She's a funny duck, that Krissie.

One of our past LARA members, Chi, won the Golden Heart in the Historical category. I was so thrilled for her. Plus, she sold a novella to Harlequin Mills and Boon on the Wednesday. All around a perfect conference for her. I did get two agent requests and one editor request. I'm excited about all three. Today I put a final polish on the first three chapters and got one submission out by email attachment. The other two go snail mail, so tomorrow I'll take care of that. Then I wait. Well, not really. I'll continue through the manuscript putting the polish on the rest of it and hope that someone will ask to see the entire thing. Wouldn't that be nice?

I'm late, I'm late...

2009-06-21T14:07:00.001-07:00

I don't quite know where the month of June has gone, it seems like I just posted yet it was two and a half weeks ago. I've been up to L.A. for my RWA chapter meeting, and to celebrate my son's birthday. It was a nice weekend. Got to watch a couple of movies with my daughter as she tivo's everything. Me, if I miss it, it's my tough luck. : ) Anyway, one of the movies we watched was Kung Fu Panda and I have to admit that I loved it. What a great message.

Then on the following Wednesday we had our monthly bookclub where we discussed The Shack, by Wm. Paul Young. I don't quite know what to say about this book, I didn't dislike it but I didn't love it either. The premise is: Where is God in a world so filled with unspeakable pain?

The story deals with Mack Phillip's youngest daughter's abduction and brutal murder, during a family vacation. Evidence of her murder is found in an abandoned shack in the Oregon wilderness. Four years later, and still grieving, Mack receives a suspicious note, apparently from God, inviting him back to the shack for a weekend. He goes and meets up with the Trinity: God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost, all in human form and not quite what he expected. Some of the conversations with the three were rather childlike, based on what I recall as Sunday school bible stories. However, as the author says, he wrote this story for his family and self-published it. Word of mouth created frenzied sales and a print publisher picked it up for reprinting. It's still way up there on the best-seller lists too, so make of that what you will.

I'm not religious in the sense of structured religion, rather believing in a spiritual sense within myself, an energy force greater than me, that somehow guides me and keeps me on the straight and narrow. I don't think of God as being in human form; however, I do believe Jesus existed and was a good man trying to encourage others down a good path. If your religion is strong Young's story will undoubtedly touch you in a deeper way than it did for me.

Anyway, our group was amazing. We had some interesting discussion on the book and on religion itself, and because we're such a diverse group, I found it gave me some deeper insights into my fellow book club members. Our next meeting won't be until September when we'll discuss an author's debut novel, Girls in Trucks, by Katie Crouch. October's pick is one of my favorite authors, Adriana Trigianni, we'll discuss Big Stone Gap.

I've got quite a TBR (to be read) pile. Four friends new releases, By Hook or By Crook, by Betty Hechtman. A Hint of Wicked, by Jennifer Haymore, Temporary Doctor, Surprise Father, by Lynne Marshall, Who Dares Wins, by Bob Mayer (non-fiction, which I'm reading slowly and taking some of the exercises to heart). Last but not least, one of my all time favorite author's books just arrived. I'd pre-ordered it, The Angel's Game, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. I couldn't resist a little peek or two, but can't risk a full read as I have so much writing to do before RWA National conference.

I'm doing what I hope is my last rewrite on my mystery before submitting it. I'm entering it in a contest before National, then pitching the story to both an agent and an editor. If I get any bites I'll be ready to go with no gnashing of teeth after coming back home. Meanwhile, the second mystery, set in the same location and a spin off, must sit and gel for a bit. I'll probably not write any more on it until the fall but it has progressed nicely and I feel good about it, just sorry that I can't revisit those characters right now. But they'll wait. : )

Timing.

2009-06-03T21:27:00.000-07:00

I've always believed in timing. Timing is everything. Doesn't matter if it's the meeting of a new amazing love interest, paying your bills, or just getting ahead of the traffic on the freeway. It's kind of like karma...really, really important.

Tonight I was mindlessly flipping through the remote control looking for something of television interest, and lo and behold (I know I love that expression) there on KCET was a special on Victor Borge, the man of timing. I poured another glass of chardonnay and made a plate of cheese and crackers, invited the dog in from outside and together we laughed our asses off, well, at least I did. The dog seemed mildly amused and more interested in the cheese than Victor.

Victor Borge, for those of you who don't know, had impeccable timing. He juggled playing classical music on piano, combining the voice of whichever artist he was accompanying, or the musicians of a full orchestra, plus giving humorous asides, and all with the timing of a great comedian who never missed a beat. The man was a genius. One of the reasons I don't write comedy, I suppose, is my timing is off. Well it stinks, it really does. I know and appreciate when it's right for other artists, but to do it myself, meh. I can't.

So, how about you? Do you have comedic tendencies? How's your timing? And, who do you think is one of our best comedians today?

May Bookclub.

2009-05-21T12:14:00.000-07:00

Our Laguna de la Paz bookclub held its second meeting yesterday and it was such an enjoyable experience. Due to La Quinta being one of those "seasonal" towns we weren't sure how many would turn up during the summer months. Most of our Canadian and northern states visitors have returned home until October when the season resumes, yet we had seven attendees yesterday. It was a great group with everyone participating and bringing a different perspective to the table, and one member emailed her comments even though on vacation. :=) Way to go, Marge.

The book being discussed was The Lost Recipe For Happiness, by Barbara O'Neal. This was her first book under the new pseudonym, although she has many books written under the name Barbara Samuel and also many Harlequin romances written under the pseudonym Ruth Wind. I've always enjoyed Barbara's works for their sensual detail, whether a story about making perfume (where you swear you can smell the scents) or the restaurant business (where you get hunger pains reading about the wonderful foods) or her lovemaking scenes that have such great sensual detail they don't read as mere sex scenes.

As it was my turn to host I'd thought about making the pomegrante baklava from Barbara's recipe in the book. Time ran away from me though as I'd had a trip up to L.A. and only returned home on Monday evening. I was in Wal-Mart picking up a few things and saw a covered tray of various types of baklava and thought I'd give it a try. They were amazing! Yikes, and I'm supposed to be on the second phase of the South Beach diet. No baklava on that. I froze the leftovers, but somehow they seem to call my name every time I pass the fridge.

Back to discussing the book, here is the author's blurb:
Haunted by an accident of which she was the lone survivor, Elena Alvarez knows how to defy the odds. And when she is suddenly offered the opportunity she's been waiting for--the challenge of running her own kitchen in a world-class restaurant--she knows it is a chance she has to take, even if it does mean relocating to Aspen, where she doesn't know a soul, and usurping the job of a notably volatile chef. So with her faithful dog and her grandmother's recipes, she arrives in Colorado to find a restaurant in as desperate need of a fresh start as she is--and a man whose passionate approach to food and life rivals her own. For Elena, old ghosts don't die quietly, but some remain with her for a reason. And, through all the ups and downs, she knows the chance for happiness is worth every risk.

It was nice that our one male member did not balk at having to read a romance and although he said he's never read one before, he rated it at least a seven. His only negative comment was it was predictible in that it didn't have a surprise, or twist, in the ending. I explained that a requirement for writing romance is a happily ever after, so in that sense romances are predictible. We all agreed this was a story about learning to let go so you can move forward. Everyone found it enjoyable and felt they had a greater understanding of how a restaurant is run and the relationships that have to come together to make a truly successful business. They also felt the heroine was well drawn and strong yet totally believable. Then we digressed a bit and ended up talking about the pros and cons of women in business and that was a lively discussion.

With a rating from 1-10, The Lost Recipe For Happiness scored six seven's and two nines.

June's meeting will be held in the clubhouse at 1PM. The June book-of-the-month choice is The Shack, by William P. Young.

Three historical book reviews. One movie.

2009-05-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why, but of late I've taken to reading historicals from different time periods. I've even looked for classic movies without realizing I was doing that. So, what's the deal with these stories?

Maybe it's the return to harder times, looking to gain insight into how others survived with less of everything? Not that I suffer anywhere near what the heroines in these stories do. But, it is good and heart warming to read about strong heroines willing to fight for their (or their family's) survival. We all stare down the threat of losing everything we've worked so hard to gain, yet hold out a promise that the situation will improve. Hopefully, like the heroines in these stories we're also making adjustments to our lifestyles, cutting back, doing without, appreciating the simpler things, enjoying the love of family and friends, and being strong in our belief that the hardships we deal with today are nothing like those of the past.

When His Kiss is Wicked, by Kaitlin O'Riley:
Colette Hamilton cares for four sisters and an ailing mother, after her father dies. With little money, and a bookshop to run, she makes inroads into improving the shop she loves and making more sales. All of this in a time when a female shopkeeper was frowned upon. Her uncle sets about getting Collette and her sister married off. But both sisters are resistant.
Then Lucien Sinclair(son of an earl with a desire to marry a plain, simple woman, who will do his bidding) enters the picture. He wants nothing to do with a woman of beauty because they bring their own problems, but when he meets and becomes intrigued by beautiful Collette and her delightful family, he must fight the attraction. He however, finds himself like a moth attracted to the flame.
This was a delightful book about overcoming hardship, and I enjoyed the author's narrative voice. The story left me with a smile on my face.

Siren's Song, by Trish Albright:
Olivia Yates is a scholar in times when women were not. With an archaeologist father, and no mother, she learned from him about Egyptian artifacts and taught herself to decipher hieroglyphics. With her father at an archaeology site and possibly in trouble, Olivia knows she holds the key to deciphering a code and must go to him. Someone is trying to murder her. Samuel Stafford is a sea captain, not a treasure hunter, yet he soon finds himself on a whirlwind journey on the high seas, headed for Egypt and its untold treasures, and reponsible for one very fiesty young woman.
This story of family loyalty and protecting loved ones at the risk of ones own life, is an exciting adventure filled with action, humor, and romance. It left me breathless.

The Promise, by TJ Bennett:
Alonsa Garcia de Arunjuez is a Spanish beauty, haunted by a Gypsy curse that threatens death to any man she loves. Thinking she is betrothed to a "safe" man, he is killed in battle. But not before begging a promise from his friend and fellow soldier, Gunter Behaim, to marry his betrothed. Betrayed by love, Gunter has sworn off making promises, but the man saved his life. He relents. Alonsa and Gunter have met before and there was an initial attraction but both quashed it. Now with the promise made, the sparks ignite and against the backdrop of the dark cruelties of war, these two who seem like total opposites must risk everything they've believed in to cast off the curse and unite their souls. A wonderful romance with an excellent grip on the historical time period. It left me sated and satisfied.

And the movie:
Sense and Sensibility.
What a wonderful cast. I know I saw this one years ago but couldn't resist watching it again. It's the 1995 version, starring Emma Thompson, Alan Rickman, Kate Winslet, Hugh Grant, and so many more wonderful actors and actresses. Based on Jane Austen's classic novel, it tells the story of the Dashwood sisters whose chances at marriage seem doomed when their father dies and the family fortune reverts to the son. The suitors are trapped by the strict rules of society and the conflicting laws of desire, and the two older sisters, Elinor and Marianne, must face many losses before finding their happily ever after while adjusting to their altered economic situation and standing. It left me sobbing, but in a good way. : )

New Bookclub.

2009-04-21T10:04:00.000-07:00

The new bookclub met for the first time last week. What a lovely diverse group. We even have a token male, : ) but he was out of town so did a conference call on one lady's blackberry. The book under discussion was The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski.

The majority of participants found the story slow. It was a long book, topping out at 566 pages. When I pointed out the differences in literary vs. commercial fiction they were interested and opened themselves up to embrace a different type of read. Going into a literary work I know what to expect. Beautiful prose (an element of music beneath the words, space to explore deeper philosophies, time to enter into a richer more magical world, a willingness to allow the author to warm up his engines. Commercial fiction on the other hand, (at least for me) is where the expectation is one of immediate action. There's no time to waste. Don't stop to smell the roses. Get the first clues out, present a dead body, have the protagonist in the midst of a dilemma, introduce the hunky hero right up front so we know what we're dealing with. And the list goes on.

I read and enjoy both style of book, but my reading enjoyment varies. Like my choice in ice cream. I have my favorite but sometimes I want vanilla, othertimes chocolate, and in a plain cone. Hey, sometimes I'll even get daring and go for pistachio, or get out a bowl add some chocolate fudge and make a sundae. ;)

Back to Edgar.
I found the book initially appealing. Although I don't normally like prologues I do think this one was necessary, and it stayed with me throughout the entire story. About a third of the way in I grew tired of the description of landscape etc., because it was already set in my mind. I knew where we were although I've never visited Wisconsin. There were a few too many sunbeams on bales of straw for me. I lusted after some action.

That said, the characters were well drawn, the dogs wonderful, and the prose kept me going. I knew I wouldn't not finish the story, although it did take me two weeks where I'd normally read four commercial novels in that time period. Then things heated up a bit by mid-book. I'd read Mark Doty's comment on this perhaps being a modern day Hamlet. Then I started thinking about Shakespeare's works and realized it incorporated many other themes as well. I visited the author's website and found someone else had commented in the same vein. My interest was sparked.

Don't want to give away any spoilers here but if you start this book, stick with it. At the end I was angry because of the ending, but the story wouldn't go away and continued to simmer and stew in my thoughts. About a week later I decided it was indeed the best ending for this story. I was finally satisfied and deeply in awe of the author. He pulled off something very difficult. He left the reader without a happily ever after, a ton of questions that demanded answers, and for me, a desire to read the whole damn thing all over again.

Storms.

2009-04-04T08:44:00.000-07:00

There have been some storms in the past weeks that have upset my treat of reading several literary agents blogs before beginning my daily writing. A treat that would normally stimulate my brain and get my fingers tapping on those letter keys. But these verbal storms--I'm not talking freaks of nature here, hmmm? well, maybe I am--they threw me into a dark place like an impending snowstorm.

Why is this happening? Why are people throwing rotten tomatoes at each other? Frustration with life in general, the publishing industry itself, broken dreams, I'm not sure. But name calling, that's toxic behavior, come on, we're supposed to be adults. Professional adults.

Yesterday, I'd arranged to meet a writer friend for lunch at our usual halfway point, me driving an hour from the desert, she driving the same distance from her home in L.A. We'd had a huge wind storm the night before and the noise had provided little sleep. I awoke groggy and much later than usual, so rushed around and did errands, walked the dog, showered and put on "real" clothes, dashed to the office and glanced at the phone and email to make sure my friend hadn't had a last minute emergency, and then took off for the freeway a CD blasting out C&W.

Five miles up the road the ambient temperature gauge in my car kept dropping. It went quickly from seventy degrees to sixty and was still falling as I noticed an increasing sandstorm up ahead. How was I to know there were sixty-five mile per hour winds today? I hadn't listened to the news or checked online news. Sigh.

I don't have a blue-tooth or any other device to use a cell while driving, so couldn't call my friend and say I was returning home, and to get off the freeway in that part of the desert would have meant driving into the eye of the sandstorm. I switched on my headlights, lowered my speed, gripped the steering wheel with both hands and placed my concentration on staying alert to what other cars were doing. By the time I was navigating the pass we were in a whiteout, visibility was poor and light weight cars were being buffeted sideways. I took an inside lane and travelled alongside a huge truck using it as a buffer against the wind. Sand blew across the freeway, often times small pebbles would ping the car but I chose not to fret about paint damage and concentrated on getting to my appointment in one piece.

At my destination, a huge black cloud had replaced the sand storm and I opened the car door, which was almost ripped out of my hands, my hair blew straight up off my face, I hunkered down wrapped my arms around the bodice of my thin cotton shirt and ran inside to the warmth of the restaurant. My friend said her car had registered fifty degrees as she'd driven into the parking lot. And here we were, both dressed for a nice spring day of eighty or so degrees, usual at this time of the year in the California desert.

On the way home, the winds had died down and the temperature elevated to within normal range. I thought about the storm. And the storm in my writing world. I'd taken care not to get caught up in the emotional aspects, ignored the negative, the what ifs and possibilities, kept my eyes on the road ahead and successfully navigated to safety. I had chosen not to comment, not because I didn't have opinions but because I didn't want to be dragged into the middle of the mess. Those outbursts or little storms are not healthy, they don't make you feel better for having cursed and hurled insults, or spoken positively and been accused of being a suck-up, there is no win in these situations. Even if comments are left anonymously, they leave questions. Who wrote it? Why? You end up feeling as tainted as the crazy ass person who left the comment.

Last night I went to a friend's blog, www.bobmayer.org. He has a new book coming out in June, Who Dares Wins. It's based on the programs of the Green Berets and how to be the best you can be while facing down difficult situations. His most recent blog was about the differences in social and market norms. You should read it, and put his book on your must order or pre-order list. His comments touched on, I think, the reasons behind the difficulties agents and writers have in understanding each other. One works to create and from an emotional or social stance, the other is excited by the aspect of selling, and works from a marketing aspect. We're talking chalk and cheese here, folks. Once each side understands and can respect the differences in the other's worldview, we might have a better working environment.

Oh, stop it, put those tomatoes down.

New book club...new books.

2009-03-19T20:10:00.000-07:00

I've been busy lately. Went up to L.A. for a long weekend. Met up with my writing group at LARA and lunched with a couple of pals. Not a lot of writing being done, although I have found the twist, the crunchy, yummy part of the story that I'd been searching for. Now I just have to put it into some semblance of order and go back a little in the story to foreshadow.

The rest of my weekend in the city was spent hunting for foreclosed houses in the San Fernando Valley with my daughter. Not for me, I'm staying put for a change, this was for her. Of course she doesn't have a lot to spend so we visited some rather dicey neighborhoods. Scared the living beejeezuz out of me to tell you the truth. I have difficulty imagining my firstborn living in some of those places. I've been trying to push her toward a condominium but not sure if she'll go for that.

One of the homes had a neighbor who walked by with a chicken on a leash. I kid you not! Another house was owned by a sad little man who had seven dogs and a penchant for cigarettes. There was a recessed garage that he claimed could be a sound studio. It was crammed to the ceiling with junk. His place smelled so badly of dogs and urine and smoke that we couldn't get the smell out of our nostrils. I sat in the car refusing to touch anything, not my face, my hair, my arms and thought I was going to throw up. We pulled into the first 7-11 store we could find, looking for antibacterial soap but none was available so we purchased baby wipes and cleansed our skin, then ate creme Easter eggs to get the smell from the back of our throats. Well, that was the excuse. : ) Love those things.

The next place was another foreclosure and we called the listing agent. She revealed the prior owner had died in the house of self-inflicted wounds. We moved on quickly. By mid-afternoon we found a nice area with an affordable home that was really cute. Good bones in that house but I'm not sure if my daughter will pursue it. It's up to her, her decision and I try not to interfere too much. But it was a sad experience for me to walk around those places and think of someone not being able to make their payments and having to walk away from their home. So sad to think of someone taking their life. We read about this in the papers all the time, but to actually go out and see it first hand, walk around the homes with notices in the windows and know the circumstances behind what might be a "good buy" is, well...it's kind of creepy. By evening I was so depressed I broke my "no alcohol" diet and had a glass of wine.

On to cheerier subjects, a friend of mine started a bookclub in the development where I live. She thought she might get five or six women interested and twelve showed up. It seems everyone knows someone else who they think might be interested. We're going to look into using the clubhouse for the gatherings as nobody has a house big enough for a really large group. We met at 3:30 and left at 6:30pm. It's going to be a lot of fun. Our first book will be The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wrobleski. In May we'll discuss The Book of Negroes which has been retitled for the US market as Someone Knows My Name. It's authored by Lawrence Hill. I'm looking forward to both books although they are a little on the long side for me. I'm used to romance of about 350-400 pages and a very fast pace. So, for my hosting event, I chose Barbara Samuel/O'Neal's book The Lost Recipe For Happiness. It was a January release and I couldn't wait to get my hands on it. I love her voice and hope the other women in the group do as well. In fact, I'm going to make one of the recipes from the book. I'm thinking the pomegranate baklava. That would go great with coffee or chardonnay. Yum.

I'm really excited about the bookclub because it will encourage me to read outside of romance. I used to read everything but romance, before I started writing. Between writing and staying up on the reading of friend's books and the occasional advanced reader copy from Harper Collins, there isn't much time for reading other genres. (Not that I'm complaining, I love romance.) Once in a while I'll read a Harlan Coban, a John Grisham, or a murder mystery but that's about it. I rarely read biographies anymore, so this club will, I'm sure, help me to broaden my horizons.

The times they are a changing...

2009-03-08T09:09:00.000-07:00

Well, actually daylight saving time has changed again and this time we've jumped ahead an hour. I hate it. Why do we do this? Is it really about farming? I mean how many more eggs can get layed, and do the cows really care if they're ambling home in the dark in the winter months? Which brings me to the question, should man mess with mother nature? I don't think so. I truly believe there are reasons for everything in life and we shouldn't mess with what is a pretty perfect plan.

Anyway, enough grumbling. I'm on to my second cup of coffee so I'll be fine in another half hour. The problem for me is I know getting into bed the night before that it is going to be different the next day, so I spend half of it tossing and turning and checking the clock. It's the night before quality of sleep that gets me confused not the missing hour. : )

What else has been happening in my life? Not much. I've been reading a lot. Almost a book a day. Am I hiding from the world, you ask? Well, I'm kind of stuck on my last third of the book (remember I'm not writing this one with an outline, I've gone back to my seat of the pants writing). The last act is usually the most intense, exciting part to write, because everything is coming together. Except for now. I'm going to have to backtrack and change a few things because some step has obviously been missed. Last night I watched two back to back movies and I got a flash of recognition of what that missing element is. Today I'm excited to get started. But first I'm taking the dog for a long walk to think it through. I think it's right, I think it's right, I think...

More good books!

2009-02-20T14:19:00.001-08:00

I've been on a reading binge lately, maybe because of our unusually rainy, snowy, cold weather. Normally I read a lot in the summer months. Most of my friends read more in the winter because of bad weather, but for those of us living in the desert it seems to be the opposite. In the summer we stay inside in the air-conditioning. At least that's when I read and write like a demon. So what possesed me to start reading every day? Shrugs. I'm writing well, too, so it can't be writing avoidance raising its ugly head. I'm not sure, but here are three books that were really well written, lots of fun, and that I highly recommend to my romance reading buddies:

Susan Wiggs, Fireside. This was fabulous. I'd read all of the others in her Lakeshore Chronicles. Not that you have to read them in order, they're all stand alones, but I do recall the hero being mentioned in an earlier book and thought at the time he was an excellent minor character. So Bo Crutcher, baseball player, finally gets his story and it's a great one too. Bo has to be the best hero I've read in quite a while. To say I adored him is an understatement. I totally got him. I wanted to know him. How much better for a writer to achieve that with one of their characters, eh?

Barbara O'Neal, The Lost Recipe for Happiness. Loved this book. There was a richness, a sensual feel to this story, and it came from not only the recipes and the restaurant background, but from the beautifully written characters. I just wanted to reach out and touch them. Wonderful people and a great story on friendships and family.

Jennifer Crusie, Anne Stuart, Lani Diane Rich, Dogs and Goddesses. Wow! What can I say? This is yet another collaboration of Jenny Crusie's and I'm a big time fan of anything she writes. In fact on her forums we have a joke that even her shopping lists are interesting. She just has a way with words. So, to combine Jenny's writing skills with those of Anne (I loved her Ice series) and Lani (the last one I read of Lani's was, Wish You Were Here, set in Idaho, another terrific book) was for me a complete feast. It was more than a three course dinner. On the surface this story is light and fun, a celebration of three women. They become friends, discover they are ancient goddesses with dogs who can talk, and end up finding their soul mates and having lots of sex. : ) The thing that resonated with me was the amount of research these authors did, yet it didn't show. They kept their story contemporary and fun, yet created the history and made it believable. That's world building folks, and they did it with a deft hand.

What are you reading?

2009-02-02T11:12:00.000-08:00

I've been doing a lot of reading in the past month. Some for research and some for pure pleasure. I recieve ARC's from a large publishing house, those are advanced reader copies and are bound books with the cover artwork but get another pass before final printing.

The story I just finished, Very Valentine, by Adriana Trigiani, was absolutely fabulous. The cover artwork alone made me feel good. So rich, so colorful. If I'd seen this in a bookstore it would have called to me, just like the little red high heels with the black bow that waved to me from a store window in Rome a few years ago. And yes, I bought them. : )

I found Very Valentine, which by the way comes out this month, to be as strong in character and description and content, as its beautiful cover. The characters, mostly Italian, are vibrant and colorful and very real. I knew them, and I'm not Italian. There was the right mix of humor, crazy family dynamics, romance, and armchair travel. Sigh. Now I want a trip to both NYC and Tuscany.

Ms. Trigiani does a great job with setting, incorporating it as a sensual character. She does the same with the cooking scenes, bringing in food aromas and mouthwatering tastes, and the texture of leathers and materials used in the making of shoes. Her love scenes are deftly written without explicit sex scenes, romance is always at the core. One of the things that resounded with me though, were her characters, so big, so full of life they almost leaped off the page. The heroine's story revolved around her grandmother's custom shoe shop in NYC. Ms. Trigiani's grandfather had owned a shoe shop in Minnesota in the 1930's. The things I learned about making shoes will stay with me for a long time. I thoroughly enjoyed learning something that is obviously dear to the author's heart. And that's what makes this story so wonderful, it has heart at its center.

So, what are you reading?

Change is in the air...

2009-01-18T20:15:00.000-08:00

So half of January has slipped by but not entirely unnoticed, at least by yours truly.

I've been working hard. I committed on the Cherry Forums, over at Jenny Crusie's blog, to do at least one submission per month (for those of you who REALLY know me, you know my weakness is not submitting enough) and I set my monthly goal as one chapter per week on the WIP. So far I'm on target, or maybe a tad ahead. I'm up to chapter six of the new manuscript.

I've re-written my query (of an already completed manuscript) based on some feedback from Jessica Faust over at Bookends Literary Agency. She ran a contest in December and we were allowed to submit our first paragraph as a pitch. I was lucky enough to be critiqued and what Jessica had to say really resonated. So, I have a new query letter but am holding off submitting until Mercury gets through its retrograde. I mean, why risk it, right? Communications can go awry under Mercury's craziness. Seriously, I'm not procrastinating, the minute that planet changes course my query letter goes out. And this time it's going to five agents at a time. No more of this send to one and be loyal and wait forever for an answer. Nope. This time I'm getting serious.

Tonight I watched Dateline and cried bucketloads regarding Barack Obama's rise to
becoming the 44th President of the United States of America. The review of our history, that step back in time, made me cry. So sad. So shameful. All I can say is what a journey and thank God it's behind us and we can move forward and hopefully repair a lot of that damage. May we never again lose sight of the fact that all humans are created equal. I love this man, and his gorgeous wife and his family. His beautiful smile makes me happy. I can be having the crappiest day and then I listen to him and somehow he makes it all seem okay.

I know we can! I know I can! I have hope.

My eyes are tearing up again just writing this. Good heavens, can you imagine what a cry baby I'm going to be on Tuesday? All I know is I'll be glued to the television, 'cause I'm not planning to miss a thing.

How about you?

Happy New Year!

2008-12-30T07:36:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, a day or so early, but that's to catch the people down under who will celebrate tonight. Also, in case I imbibe tomorrow night and forget to post. Just kidding.

I went to a "between the holidays" party last night and it was a fabulous gathering of friends and neighbors. About twenty or so of us, and I was the youngest and once again, the only single. I've got to do something about that. All of the couples talked about how they share the household duties now that the hubbies have retired. I never knew how many men do the vacuuming and don't mind the chore. One guy, Vic, not only vacuums, he cooks. So my challenge in 2009? Find myself a Vic.

The party hosts made a lovely spread, there were a variety of cheeses and dips and drinks on the patio (two lovely gas warmers kept us toasty) then we went inside where four tables were set, four big crockpots of what they call stoup, bubbled pleasantly and filled the house with an amazing aroma. I thought it was a cross between chili, stew, and minestrone soup. Anyway, whatever, it was delicious. First you put a few nachos on the bottom of the bowl then added the soupy mixture of meat, kidney beans, corn, tomato, etc. on top, then added a dollop of sour cream, grated cheese and finely chopped spring onion. Delish. Add in a nice hefty merlot, crisp field greens salad, warm bread rolls, and you have a little slice of heaven.

The conversation was fabulous and rowdy. I think I was talked into joining the once a month Bocce game. Bocce, red wine, camaraderie. Maybe I'll go. Dessert was mini chocolate eclairs and profiterole, along with coffee and a dessert wine if desired. I left at that point, one of each dessert in hand, and ate those on my short walk home. It's probably the only celebration I'll do for New Year's Eve. Knowing me, I'll snuggle down in front of the fire, hug the dog, have a glass of wine, and watch an old movie.

So, whatever you choose to do, may your New Year celebration be warm, fun, and shared with those you care most about. And may we all find 2009 to be a brighter spot in our lives than it's predecessor. Here's to hope and change!

Seasons Greetings!

2008-12-24T15:06:00.000-08:00

Whatever you personally celebrate, Hannukah, Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Kwanzaa, or the Seinfeld holiday of Festivus, I truly hope your special time is warm and wonderful and shared with those you love. And if that isn't possible this year, at least celebrate with cherished memories of loved ones far away.

We have another storm coming into Southern California today. Here in the desert, we still have snow on the mountain tops from the two storms last week. Brrrr. Strange weather everywhere, and I'm wondering if this storm will give us a truly white Christmas. The kids are coming down at some point during the Christmas to New Year period. Not sure exactly when. We've become pretty relaxed with our plans in the last few years. That seems to suit all of us. No pressure. No commitments broken. No having to drive in awful weather conditions. And while I wait, I write. So it's all good.

Because it has turned so cold here, I've decided to re-enact an old family tradition. Years ago, we had a little place up in Park City, Utah. We got to use the place for two vacations a year and the kids and I always looked forward to our ski trip, or summer hiking trip, the rest of the time it was rented out. We always provided a few videos of favorite movies, music tapes, and video games, for our guests to use. One of the movies was Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, with Steve Martin and Michael Caine. Every time we'd go up there we'd watch that movie. Every single time, without fail. It still makes me smile.

An old writing buddy gave me a CD of the movie five years ago when I told her that story. It was a favorite of hers. So thank you Gina, I'm lighting a fire, pouring a nice glass of Aussie Shiraz and watching the movie tonight. I'll be thinking of you my friend, my kids, days when I could still ski, winters in Park City ... ah, the memories.

This morning I went marketing for all kinds of non-perishable young people treats. Things I never keep in the house because I'd eat them and regret it later ... so, hope the kids arrive soon.

Munch, munch.

Twinkle lights and twinkle toes!

2008-12-12T08:01:00.000-08:00

Everyone in my neighborhood is doing their bit to increase the holiday fun. In years past I've decorated a little, never really going all out tacky. But twinkle lights were appearing everywhere around the lake in great numbers through this week and I grew increasingly envious for some of the good cheer. While my house isn't on the water and it only has a small frontage to decorate I figured I should not be such a grumpy-puss and get out the lights.

Just stringing the lights was fun and put me in a more joyful mood. I left the front door open, played Christmas Carols from a CD that Bank of America gave me years ago as a thank you gift (back in the day when I had some money saved and banks had money to give away on free gifts) and I had orange cranberry scones cooking in the kitchen. It was all warm and inviting. All I needed was a fire in the fireplace to set the scene, but it was a gorgeous day in the high seventies with blue skies and bright sunshine. A typical winter's day in the California desert.

I'd started to wonder when our seasons would change out here. We only have a short winter but so look forward to it after a long, hot, dry summer. Extra long and crispy this year. Anyway, this morning I woke up at six a.m. and it was freezing. Had to put the heat on before breakfast. That has put a huge smile on my face and my toes are tapping out a rythm to the music playing in the background.

Suddenly it feels like the holidays! Yay! I could go dancing. Or maybe I could go buy some more lights.

Hope your holiday season is warming up!

Counting my blessings!

2008-11-16T20:37:00.000-08:00

Just got back from a weekend in Los Angeles, my old stomping ground. The drive up was quite an experience with huge mushroom clouds of multi-colored smoke to the left of me, trees swaying in the extremely high winds, the car being buffeted about like it was a weightless toy, and on the horizon a layer of smog over the city that looked like gray meringue. The day prior, the winds had reached 76 mph and it seemed they'd whip up and switch paths on a whim. So many fires, so much tragedy. I couldn't watch the evening news without tearing up. Today, when I returned to the desert I had to keep the headlights on as the smoke was so thick in places and the visibility was poor. There were at least four fires raging in Southern California.

I've no idea what it would be like to lose everything but came close after the Northridge earthquake when my house was damaged. The aftershocks continued for months, recreating the terror of yet another hideous event. It really was the most frightening thing I'd ever experienced. Such a loss of control. Such fear. It's been years, but I still recall those feelings as if it was yesterday.

So all of this makes me ask, "Why do I live here?" It can't really be just for the weather. In fact I'm sitting on top of the San Andreas fault and we are long overdue for a big earthquake in Southern California. You'd think I'd be smart enough to get my ass out of town. But no. I stay. Sometimes I think I'm no more mature than a teenager. I'm invincible. Hah! I'm not invincible, I'm trapped. I retired to the desert communities with the idea of going small. A modest house, small yard, less expenses, live out my old age in the heat. Then the bottom fell out of the market and left me with an overpriced house. I'd have to put money into it to sell it. How can that be possible? Where did I go wrong in my planning?

Then I pause and quit my moaning and groaning. I still have my home, my treasures, my family. I still have a roof over my head and my heart breaks for those who have lost theirs. I promise to give thanks for my blessings every day. To be grateful for what I have and to give back to those who are suffering in these hard times, times made even harder by Mother Nature.

The itchies!

2008-10-29T14:38:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if this is seasonal but I've had the itchies to take a writing course, go back to school, or learn something. Anything. Perhaps it's because I'm between stories, putting the polish on a couple of projects but haven't started anything new in a while. Hmmm?

Anyway I've been trolling college and writing websites looking at classes available. I missed the fall sign up for most but I found two that start in November. One is right here in the Coachella Valley, the other is online. One is with someone I've never heard of, the other is taught by a romance writer of fifty novels. One is super expensive, one not too bad. So, I've continued to procrastinate. Do I really NEED another course? Do I really NEED to spend the money? By the time I make up my mind registration will be closed. Ha ha.

In years past I've treated myself to a fall conference, or writer's retreat, and it has always jump-started my next book, or improved on the one I was currently writing. With the economy unstable I'm hesitant to commit to anything too expensive. Last week I had a brainwave, figured I could just take out all of the self help writing books that line my bookshelves and give myself a refresher course. There are many books I haven't re-read in four or five years.

I started writing in 2000 and gradually added books to my library, starting out with simple material and moving up to tougher subjects like those in Robert McKee's, Story. It's amazing what this refresher has done for me. I started out with Deb Dixon's, Goals, Motivation and Conflict, then, Writing the Fiction Synopsis, by Pam McCutcheon, then What Would Your Character Do? by Eric and Ann Maisel. Finally I read Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, by Renni Browne and Dave King. Today I tinkered with my current story and it is enlightening how much my little at-home schooling has helped. Soon, very soon, I'll start a new project and think I'll be far better equipped for having taken this time out to refresh and refill the well.

My birthday weeks!

2008-10-12T11:20:00.000-07:00

This year it seems my birthday celebrations lasted for two weeks. Many friends who knew my children were visiting this weekend, celebrated with me last week. And as we are all into being conservative and watching our budgets, we chose simple ways in which to celebrate. I had a wonderful time and it was, I think, more meaningful this year than in earlier years where I celebrated without a care in the world.

My Aussie family began their calls and emails a few days in advance of my special day. This was one of those big "O" birthdays (or is that big OH birthday?) so everyone but me thought of it as super special. I figure at my age it doesn't matter anymore. It's only a number. I have my health and energy, I have my kids, my family, my dog ... what else does a gal need? Well, maybe a healthy economy for starters, but that's another whole story.

The kids took me to lunch at The Mission Inn, in Riverside, yesterday and surprised me with a gorgeous necklace. It was tasteful and something I'll treasure for years to come. The meal was wonderful, the company worth more than anything, and the waiter took a photo of the three of us and presented it to me in a little folder. What a great thought. I have it on my computer desk and although I look like I've been spooked the kids are gorgeous. The Inn is fabulous, it reminds me of Europe. I love the sound of the mission bells pealing on the hour. Love the decorative black wrought iron balconies that open out to the patio dining. Love the stained glass windows, the beautiful antiques throughout the hotel.

My daughter had called me a few weeks ago and we had a conversation about surprise parties. I told her firmly how much I hate them. It was quite a discussion. Anyway she confessed yesterday, they'd thought of giving me one, and she'd started to look into how to connect me and my friends when many of us are separated by great distance. Whew! Thank heavens we'd had that discussion. I sure dodged a bullet. So for those of you who live far afield, thanks for your help in this matter. Grin. It is very much appreciated.

I've done no real writing since the beginning of October. I'll open a manuscript folder and do a little polish here and there, but that's all. I'm about to write a new story though, and had put off starting until after the birthday. Once I begin, I know I'll slip off the radar for a bit. I always do. It's cooler now in the desert, thank goodness as our summer was long this year. Within a week I'll take the laptop outside and do several hours of writing in the cool morning air, I can feel the itch. It's a good feeling.

This Crazy World in Which We Live

2008-09-30T12:31:00.000-07:00

Times are hard for all of us right now. With trouble on Wall Street, unhappiness on Main Street, confusion everywhere, I've decided to stay home, do yoga, write, and watch my new goldfish swim in their aquarium. I'm all for maintaining sanity.

I'm not advocating being an ostrich and sticking one's head in the sand, we all have to do our bit for the economy and the state of the world. But let's not go crazy and worry ourselves sick, okay? I figure if Bush, Obama, and McCain can keep their heads while all about them are losing theirs ... all I can say is, I'm glad that I'm me and not one of them. Yikes!

I figure stay home and use less gas in my car, read more, learn more about what is happening in the world, make wise choices. I don't have a lot of investments but what I do have are diversified. They'll rebound ... eventually. My house is worth less than what I paid for it three years ago. If I sit tight it will gradually rise in value. Meanwhile I'm paying down the mortgage and increasing my equity.

I've become a smarter shopper. Gone are the times of buying whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it. Now I weigh the pros and cons. The same goes for travel. The same goes for dining out and entertainment. Europe isn't going anywhere. I can wait five years. I'm enjoying trimming my budget of expenses that are not necessary to my overall happiness. It makes me proud whenever I cut something. And, I'm feeding the pig. A percentage of my money is saved every month. It's not huge but it's something.

On the plus side of our crazy world, I'm reading more. Every afternoon I finish my writing, grab a diet coke, and sit in the recliner. Two hours of reading takes me to a place I knew growing up in a big noisy family. Hey, living with six siblings is no picnic, and it fills the need for adventure, romance, excitement, suspense, whatever it is I'm craving. I've always been a reader, just haven't given it the dedication I now do. Just finished John Grisham's novel, Playing for Pizza. It transported me to a small town in Italy, walking those streets, eating those foods, hearing the local language. And, in addition, I learned more about American football than I'd ever known.

Check it out. It's highly entertaining.

My Pool Buddy

2008-09-16T17:00:00.000-07:00

Since my knee surgery I've been doing the exercises suggested by the physiotherapist every day, in the pool. Part of that is because it's still so awfully hot here, and part is because I'm convincing myself that I'm getting twice the workout for my effort.

Anyway, I walk the dog, come home, take a quick shower and put on my bathing suit and by eight thirty I'm in the pool. I usually swim a few laps to warm up first. Several of the exercises require different water levels. Like when I stretch out my hamstrings I need to be at about the four feet level. I grip the edge of the coping and stretch for fifteen seconds then alternate legs and repeat several times (who wants one toned skinny leg and one chubby one, eh?) By the time I'm doing this stretch it's close to nine.

In the last week I've noticed that I'm not alone. A little beige-colored spider with long golden legs comes to join me. The first day I met my pool buddy he/she was floating in the water but I could see the spider was still alive. I scooped it up and threw the handful of water (and spider) onto the deck. Spidey, as I've come to name it, got up on those lovely long legs and ran away toward the shrubs that surround the outside of the wrought iron fence. I felt quite good about that. I'd saved a life.

I decided Spidey was a girl because of the legs. Yesterday she came down the deck at almost nine o'clock and scooted over the coping and ran up and down the tile. I wondered if she was trying to get a drink of water, but before I could decide, and because I was making small waves, she was washed off the side and into the pool. I scooped her up and we went throught the same procedure as the day before. I did lecture her a bit about being more careful, however, today, at exactly the same time, she returned and again fell into the pool. I tossed her back out. She ran home in the same direction.

Only thing is, I'm not so sure anymore that Spidey is a girl. The actions are very masculine. Keep risking one's life to ride the waves? Yeah, gotta be a dude. I can't decide if I should leave Spidey to his adventures or keep on saving him from drowning, I figure if Spidey is indeed a guy, he goes back to the Spider Bar and tells his buddies:
"Yeah, so there I am riding the waves, and some human gets in and splashes around, nearly kills me. Then there's a tidal wave and I get washed onto the deck. It was thrilling I tell ya'. Same thing happened yesterday, and again today. I'm going to try it again tomorrow. Maybe I'll even go to the deep end."

If Spidey's a girl she goes to the nest and says, "Darn another day without a bath. That human has got to go. She keeps scooping me up and throwing me onto the deck. I'm going back tomorrow and if she tries it again, I swear, I'll bite her."

Hard at work.

2008-08-28T15:48:00.000-07:00

This has been a week or two of hard work. I gave myself a challenge with a completed manuscript. Trim it and use the exercise to learn how to write tight. This, as many of you know, means killing off your darlings. Jenny Crusie taught me that. But, I may have also killed a manuscript. Ha, ha. It was a risk, but one that energized me. I had this one line that I loved on the bottom of the second page and I kept trimming all around it until I realized it had to go. It ended up like a pimple right on the end of your nose. No amount of concealer could hide it. It just stuck out there, all red and throbbing, drawing all kinds of attention. But you know, when I finally cut it, it was okay. I felt a certain relief that it was gone. Yet, I'd loved that line for so many months. Strange, huh?

I'm going through another stage of thinking I should be more proactive. I'm such a wuss. I take little baby steps and research an agent or two then remain loyal while awaiting their rejection to my query or partial submission. It's so sad. I've decided to do what Bob Mayer told me years ago, get at least batches of five or ten queries out at a time. It's going to be difficult for me though. It's not my style. I feel like I'm cheating. However, I have two stories that I think are polished and ready to go. I had to withdraw my submission from an agent who I would have enjoyed feedback from. Maybe some time in the future she'll let me resubmit. That was the manuscript I'd trimmed, and I'm talking deep edits here. From 86,000 words to 62,000. I love the story. I've sent it off to Silhouette to see if it suits their Romantic Suspense line. Who knows? It might. It would be great if it did, because if not then it has nowhere to go. It would be too short for any other house.

My son came to visit last weekend. It was lovely to have company. The dog was thrilled. Summer months are hard in the desert because we go out early to walk, then walk in the late evening once it cools down. There's this huge long day in which I entertain myself by writing and the dog just moves around the house choosing different spots in which to nap. I think she was quite depressed to find out on Monday that life had returned to it's same slow pace.

If it hadn't been for the Summer Olympics I'd have died of boredom this year. Now I have the humor of politics for a while, that keeps me entertained. Plus reading. I usually read at least four books a week. Yesterday I picked up a book at the market. It was by an author I love and I didn't recognize the title or the cover, so didn't even read the back cover copy. I was pretty mad when I got home and discovered it was a re-release of one of her books from five years ago, they just slapped on a new cover. I hate that. When Nora Roberts' books are re-released it says so on the cover. I mean what avid reader can remember commercial fiction she read from four or five years ago?

Two of my writing buddies had excellent news this week. One got a request from Harlequin to hurry up and send the rest of her manuscript. Like they wanted it pronto! The other got her contract from the agent of her dreams. Way to go ladies. It's my turn next. Heh. Yay! It's nearly September. Two or three more weeks and we'll be back to gorgeous days and even more wonderful evenings. I can't wait. So now, back to the keyboard to write so I can have time to play once the cool weather arrives.

The creative mind.

2008-08-14T20:24:00.000-07:00

The creative mind is a strange thing. I'm always in awe of it, even my own.

I had outlined a new story somewhere in the middle of writing my last one and I liked it although it would have been much darker than I'd ever attempted. I was positive I would write it next. After returning from RWA National I've put in six hour days polishing Unlock the Truth. I totally ditched the first chapter and think the pace is much faster, which makes the book stronger.

So, in the midst of all of this work and enjoying my current manuscript all over again, another story nudged me. When I allowed it to take shape I had a strong beginning and some interesting characters. I even had the title and that has not changed. It has become my next book. The thing is, the story is light in tone. It has, at the moment at least, glimpses of comedy. I don't write comedy. I'm not funny. Everyone who knows me knows I don't do funny. So what's up?

While I'm amused at the thought of writing a romantic comedy, I doubt I will. It has a mystery element though, so I might expand on that aspect and turn it into a suspense. Who knows? I'm figuring by the end of this month I'll have started it and will see where it takes me. The creative muse is certainly strange, we never know where or why our stories emerge like they do. For me, at first they're shadows or fleeting thoughts and I try to ignore them, especially if I'm working on something else. Gradually, over a few weeks, I find I dream or daydream full scenes. Before I know it I'm fleshing out the characters and the plot. Then a synopsis or outline forms in my mind and I begin any research.

Once I know the ending, that's usually it. I'm so excited I have to write the story. It's quite an adventure, really.

You should try it.

Taken down by a shrimp.

2008-08-06T09:39:00.000-07:00

There was an unusual mood to this conference, one I have never experienced before at RWA. It seemed the energy in San Francisco was low. Both inside and outside of the hotel. I'd arrived early with the intention of combining the conference with a mini-vacation. The only one I'd allowed myself this year. Sadly to say I got no vacation and very little conference but I did pay a hefty price to sleep in a hotel bed.

Walking outside of the hotel was beyond depressing. Maybe it's a reflection of our current economic situation, or has SF gone downhill since my last visit? Side-stepping a scruffy man seated with his back pressed to the wall and spitting gobs of phlegm in my direction was beyond yuck on the yuck-o-meter. Side-stepping a pool of vomit in the street was disgusting. Watching people beg and panhandle and smelling the great unwashed was not pleasant. Gripping my purse to my side while walking the street was not pleasant. Viewing the high-priced items called memorabilia but that resembled the worst schlock I've ever seen, was disheartening. But the whole scenario also left me feeling saddened. This was once a city of great beauty, a place that on my first visit took my breath away. What happened?

Back in the hotel the prices were astronomical. I'm a world-wide traveller and don't mind paying for quality but resent being stiffed. I thought I was being stiffed. On everything.

Then I got sick. I guess I met a shrimp I didn't like, or that didn't like me. I went to the 39th level bar to meet a friend. Hadn't eaten so decided the way over-priced shrimp coktail was a good idea. The following day I came down with chills and took to my bed. When I awoke I couldn't make it to the bathroom to throw-up and grabbed the waste basket. Thank goodness the basket was metal and not a woven bamboo. Anyway, who knew someone could throw up as much as moi? I went to management to make a report convinced I had food poisoning as I never get ill like that. Management said there'd been no other complaints. After that I was determined to flush every remaining bad thing from my body. I drank so much water I squished when I walked. *grin*

So I missed two networking parties, many workshops, many get togethers with old friends. I considered cancelling the rest of the trip and going home but didn't feel strong enough to travel. I spent most of two days in my room. Fortunately I'd lugged my laptop along on the trip. On the plus side I put some polish on my manuscript and began brainstorming another story. Also, I felt a lot better by the night of the awards ceremony. Krissie (Anne Stuart) won a Rita in the romantic suspense category for Ice Storm. That was fabulous. Congratulations again, Krissie!

And I read Homecoming, a wonderful inspirational by Jill Marie Landis. I've never been big on inspirational stories. I was raised in the Christian faith, then converted to Judiasim for my husband and to raise my children Jewish. After divorcing I explored my own beliefs and took journey's into Eastern religions, spirituality, quantum physics, etc. I never thought I'd enjoy a story with a strong Bible influence. I was wrong. I guess it all goes back to the quality of the writing, to the storytelling. I love Jill's work, adore her voice, and that was why I was willing to give this book a chance. By the first page I was hooked. This is such a beautifully crafted story about finding the truth to who we are on a deep inner level, where we truly belong, and having and trusting the faith to find out. It touched my heart.

It's Wednesday today, one week after meeting the shrimp that took me down. I can finally say I'm feeling back to normal. Will I ever eat shrimp again? I don't think so. Will I re-visit San Francisco? I doubt it. Will I go to National in D.C. next year? You bet.

Metabolism and other energy related matters ...

2008-07-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

I've been devouring Robert K. Cooper's book, Flip the Switch. It's all about fueling your metabolism and burning fat. I get on my spinner cycle and start pedaling and reading and before I realize it an hour has slipped by. Not bad, killing two birds so to speak, not that I like killing birds or anything. Heck, I even scoop up insects and set them free outdoors ... well some insects, the big scary ones that give me a shudder and a chill up the spine, they get whacked.

The knee is doing fine, but the leg tires when I stand for long periods, or walk around the shopping malls. I know, I know, stop shopping. *grin* But, hey somebody has to fuel our sagging economy. Also, it's almost conference time and I need a couple of new items of clothing. It's rather sad, this shopping thing. I had a bunch of $15 and $25 coupons to use at a major department store and could even use them for on sale items. Yippee! A couple of days ago I drove to the nearest mall, but no such luck. Who is designing these clothes and for whom? If you are a size two with no breasts you might be in luck. But puffed sleeves? Cut me a break. And the colors? Yikes!

I decided on a black pant suit thinking how could I go wrong. It looked perfect on the rack. Dainty little pintucks down the front of the jacket, interesting snap buttons, three quarter sleeves (perfect for summer) and a nice slimming line to the pant. It was awful! On the rack it was great, on me I looked pregnant. The jacket had a flare to it and fell straight from my breasts into something that looked suspiciously like a short maternity smock. Been there, done that, never want to go back.

And speaking of energy, I'd better read that book again. It's Saturday and I realized this morning there have been no business cards printed, must get to that today, because after all I'm going for the networking this year. I'm not doing any appointments with editors or agents. Speaking of which, I don't have a pitch for my latest work. Hmmm. Now I do have two partial manuscripts out with two different literary agencies, and I like and respect both agents and would be thrilled if either one signed me on. But as we all know, having someone "looking" at your work does not a guarantee make. Time to knuckle down and write an elevator pitch. For those non-writer friends and family, that's a short pitch you can do in sixty seconds while in the elevator (thus the name) or standing in a lunch line, or standing in the long, long, long line to use the restroom. It's handy to have when someone asks, "What do you write?" It helps tremendously if you don't answer, "Books." *grin*

Okay, so no shopping today. I'll stick to the tried and true clothes that I already have in the closet. They never get worn in the desert anyway. It's shorts and flip-flops if you go out in this heat, and barely nothing if you stay indoors. And it will be lucky to get to 75 degrees in the middle of the day in San Francisco, so maybe I should check my fall clothing. There's an idea.

Fun weekend

2008-07-14T13:32:00.000-07:00

So I went up to L.A. on Friday for a friend's book launch. What a lovely event. This was Trish Albright's debut book, Siren's Song. Trish is a Disney Imagineer and travels all over the world for her work. She is always having amazing adventures and when we were in a critique group together there was always an hour of laughter and rapid conversation as we "stay at homes" got swept up and into her latest happenings. It's logical that she would put that same fabulous energy into the written word, and Siren's Song does not disappoint. It's a great pirate adventure set in Morocco in 1787.

The event was held at Big Buddha Baba Productions in L.A. and Trish had a huge number of friends and family come out to support her. It was nice to catch up with a couple of my other writing buddies from LARA as I didn't make the last meeting and won't make the next one either. There was even a man in a pirate costume who read the first chapter of the novel and did a superb job. The food was excellent and plentiful and so was the generous bar. My daughter came with me and we had a fun time. Driving through Hollywood is always a fun time, but with my daughter at the wheel, believe me it's even funner.

We had dinner out, and got sick from eating too much. We had lunch out with my son and his girlfriend and got sick from eating too much. We watched way too much television. We ate way too much chocolate. We drank way too much Pinot Grigio. We laughed way too hard at so many things.

The good thing is my knee survived all of the ordeal, including the two and a bit hours of driving up and back to L.A. Plus I got to wear real clothes and shoes. None of this shorts and tank-tops and flip-flops attire that I live in in the desert during the summer months. It was a dry run for going to the RWA National conference. All I have to say on that topic is I have two weeks in which to (a) further strengthen the knee (b) take off a few pounds (c) buy a few more "real" clothes. The only problem is I have to take off the three pounds I put on with all of the "way too much stuff" before I can go shopping. Guess I'll be doing that the day before leaving. Or not. Do you think flip-flops and tank-tops would work for a national writers conference?

The week from hell...

2008-07-03T17:59:00.000-07:00

All I can say is pleeeease, let this one be over soon. I'm tired just thinking about it. It seems everything I touched this week got messed up, and heck, Mercury isn't even retrograde.

The electrical in the wall for the microwave, gas range, and two power points blew a fuse. I of course tried the electrical panel, tripped the breakers several times ... nothing. I called numerous electricians, nobody answered. I kept my fingers crossed that the microwave hadn't gone pffft on me, 'cause I was using it at the time, along with my brand spanking new toaster. That baby must pull a lot of energy.

Finally a friend advised me to call the handyman from our development. I'm kind of funny about electrical stuff. Don't want someone tinkering where they shouldn't be tinkering. But, I was desperate. He came over and tripped those breakers in one second. Guess my wrists are not too strong these days. You'd think they would be with all the typing. Oh well, good news it only cost me the $20 I palmed him.

Then the dog started to yelp every time she scratched near her ear and she walked with a strange tilt to her head. She'd shake her head so violently her ears would flap and you could hear her from a different room in the house. I thought hmmm, is there a bug in her ear? I need all the spare dollars I can get for National conference this month and did not relish the idea of a vet bill. Out came the flashlight, on went the glasses. Couldn't see anything wrong in there but for some odd reason the dog thought I was making it better. Those big dog ear canals are very deep. She'd come and sit next to me and tilt her head all evening. I'd accommodate her by having another look. Still nothing.

Next day, and $208 later, she was diagnosed with an ear infection and I was given the job of instilling antibiotic drops twice a day, and every other day filling her ear with a wax removing liquid. Now, for me with recent knee surgery, getting to the floor is a hard job. But getting down to doggie level, while holding the 100 pound beast's head and trying to placate her, and positioning the bottle of liquid just so, and trying to get it into the ear and not all over me was nigh on impossible.

Last night I walked the dog at 8PM and almost fell over when the toe of my sneaker caught a raised edge of the pavement. I lurched forward, managed to prevent myself from falling and jarred my knee. Last night I didn't sleep. I took Tylenol and iced the knee down but couldn't shake off the pain. Got up and worked on my novel at 2AM for an hour or so. Drank milk. Went back to bed until 6 AM. Had to get up because in these temperatures you have to walk the dog by 7 AM or you're in trouble. So got back home without mishap and realized the dreaded wax treatment was due. I figured, sit in the computer chair and do the treatment, it was the perfect level. I succeeded in getting the oily wax treatment done and she immediately shook her head and sprayed oil over the keyboard, the computer screen, my favorite tank top. Oy!

Finally got out of the house around 10 AM, did all of the beginning of the month chores in 112 degree very humid heat, not at all like our normal dry desert conditions and came home feeling like a wrung out dishrag around noon. Found a gusher in my back yard, and I'm not talking overly chatty neighbor. The valve cap on the irrigation system had burst. Turned off the water, found the culprit, unscrewed it and started calling. Handyman had left for the Fourth of July holiday. Gardener had left for a quick trip to Mexico. It finally occurred to me that nobody would be around this long weekend until at least Monday. I figured okay, no problem, how hard could this be? I turned off the water, unscrewed the thing, figured I'd just go out buy another one and put it on myself.

Home Depot doesn't sell this type of valve. I go to Loews, they don't either. However, the guy at Loews tells me the valve company, Richdel, which is written across the top of the broken valve, has been out of business for years. He tells me his gardener could come over and replace the whole thing for me. I see dollars with wings flying out the window. By this time it's 2 PM, I'm drenched. I look like a mad woman, my knee is aching and swollen. I'm almost in tears. I come back home and think about kicking a few walls but remember the knee just in time. I curse, I walk around like a deranged person saying, "I hate this house. I hate this house."

I sit down and open the yellow pages and begin calling plumbing supply places. Almost everyone has a message machine. It's the eve of a four day weekend!!! I finally get a real live human on the phone. A woman. She keeps telling me she can give me a 2 inch valve. I keep telling her I need a 1 inch valve. Eventually I thank her and hang up. I call Ace Hardware. An elderly man answers. He assures me he has a universal cap that will be perfect. I drive to Palm Desert and sure enough, for less than $10 I have what I need. I rush home and do the repair, turn the water back on and all is fine. So, who needs guys and gardeners and electricians and handymen and ... ooops! better clamp the hand over the mouth, with my luck something else will give out tomorrow.

On the plus side, I've been doing a lot of reading on these hot afternoons. Read Anne Stuart's Fire and Ice for Jenny Crusie's book club. It was a fabulous read. Where Anne, or Krissie as we know her, gets her ideas is beyond me. This is part of a series and this one is set in Tokyo. Her characters are amazingly well-drawn and her hero is gorgeous. I loved him. The quintessential bad boy with the tender heart. The pace is incredible, the cultural aspects giving just enough flavor without bogging the story down. I enjoyed asking her questions and hearing her answers.

Then I read my prior critique partner's debut novel, Siren's Song, by Trish Albright. It's a historical romance, published through Dorchester. What a fast-paced, hang on to your seat swashbuckler adventure story that is. Trish does a great job with a tender family story, a fab romance, adventure on the high seas, and a memorable spunky heroine. I say move over Johnny Depp there's a new swashbuckler in town, and a girl no less.

After the pace of those two books I curled up yesterday with Susan Mallery's new book, Sweet Talk. What a superb story. It was such an easy flowing read, a beautiful narrative voice, nice even pacing and so many tender moments it left me wanting more. I loved all of her carefully crafted characters, and their individual story. It was perfect and a great HEA.

Good news.

2008-06-24T18:43:00.000-07:00

The Doctor is thrilled with my rehabilitation. Yay! I only have to go to physio one more time, and I'm allowed to swim. I can gradually increase the walking distance but must not push myself too hard. I now have a new set of "at home" exercises to do, they take about forty-five minutes and I'm pooped afterward. Plus, I can use the spinner bike and gradually increase the tension. And this isn't even the three week marker.

So today I walked the dog for thirty minutes, came home and jumped in the pool. Then I showered and washed my hair, went to physio, came home an hour and a half later and took a nap. When was the last time you had a nap at 11:30 in the morning? Heh. It felt so bizarre but I'd turned on the computer scrolled down to the chapter I intended to work on and was hit by a huge wave of tiredness. By one o'clock I was typing away and doing great. Sometimes you just have to listen to your body.

The San Francisco National is looming on the horizon and I toyed with driving up, but with gas at $4.67 cents a gallon, and the parking fees at the hotels in the range of $45 to $50 per night it isn't worth it. I love to travel by car. Love the independence and the peace and quiet. It's great thinking time and my WIP will be completed by then so it would have been a good chance to brainstorm with myself over my next project.

I already have a story idea and setting, and two wonderful main characters but the plot needs to be fleshed out. What are the conflicts these two will have, what external adventures and catastrophies will they deal with, what internal emotions and barriers will come tumbling down? Hmmmm? I love this part it's very exciting. I actually got the idea for this story because of the hotel I stayed in at the Dallas National last year. It has been on the back burner ever since. It's another mystery/suspense. A little darker than I've written so far but I'm looking forward to tackling it. But first, I must finish up the last few chapters of Unlock the Truth, let it simmer for a couple of weeks while I put the final polish on Saving Sarah.

This is a great time for writing for me because it's too darn hot to go outside. We had a week of high teens temperatures. One day it reached 119 degrees but for the better part of the week it hovered between 114-116 degreees. The problem is it doesn't cool down at night, so you wake up at 6 AM and it's 90 degrees. At 8 PM it can still be 104 degrees. You have to be creative in finding dog walking time.

When I start the new story, my side project will be to revisit Gone Tropical and give it a major overhaul. I still love that story, it's very dear to me and I had such fun writing it. I didn't shop it around much but one agent I trust and one Editor I respect, did read the entire manuscript and gave me some much needed advice. I think it's worth revisiting.

So, I'm happy, life is pretty darn good at the moment. Hope it is for you, too.

Recovery.

2008-06-16T21:37:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not talking twelve step programs. For those who have asked me questions about arthroscopy and the recovery process (it seems there are many out there with creaky knees) this is how it worked for me. Day one I was so high on Vicodan I didn't feel a thing. Day two I was a trouper and tried to cut back on medication and move around. Day three I collapsed and could barely walk. My glute had no strength. I could barely lift the leg, it felt like a giant dead fish. Ice was my best friend. Well, that and my recliner chair.

On the sixth day I had my first physiotherapy appointment (do not delay this, do it as soon as you possibly can) and they gave me exercises to do three times a day at home. I went to the appt. using one crutch ... as well ... a crutch. And I used the elevator to the second floor. While the exercises were boring range-of-motion exercises I soon learned that the leg felt better, less stiff, afterward. Plus, embarrasingly, I fell asleep will they did the ten minute electronic stimulus. That felt so goooood! Then ten minutes of ice and I almost floated out of the place.

Day ten I started to walk the dog short distances. It hurt but not in a bad way. Day twelve was my second physiotherapy. I didn't use a crutch or a cane. I walked up the two flights of stairs. They added gentle no tension bicycle today, and a few different stretches. The main thing though, they taught me how to walk through from heel to toe and not with a stiff leg, with flexion. It made the world of difference. Tonight I walked the dog and the difference in walking properly to walking like an old lady with a bad knee was incredible. Of course I stretched and iced down the knee before and after walking the dog, but tonight is the first night with no pain. So, there you have it. I've turned a major corner here. I'm excited and happy. By the end of the month my knee will be better than it ever was. And hey, did you see that Tiger Woods did enter the Masters after all, and he won. Yay!

It's 114 degrees here in the desert. I'd love to use the pool but have to wait for the steri-strips to fall off by themselves. Can't risk an infection if the incisions aren't sealed off. Two have fallen off, one left to go. But, I can wait. I'm getting good at waiting and giving things their time. I feel so improved, today I re-registered for the National conference. Now I have a goal. I always work better when I'm working toward a goal.

Second day syndrome

2008-06-07T16:14:00.000-07:00

What is it with second day syndrome? If you go out dancing you're more tired the second day than the morning after, same thing as working out too hard at the gym, going hiking or skiing, and as I've just discovered getting over surgery. Now I can understand the second day syndrome with the activities that require excess energy, you coast along on the first day depleting your reserves, but surgery? Heck you lie on an operating table, then in a recovery room bed, then you come home and sit in your recliner and get waited on hand and foot.

I had an arthroscopy on the knee on Thursday and got home around noon. I was high on anaesthesia, morphine, and then Vicodan. I was happy, not feeling a thing. The next morning the pain crept in and I tried to give up the Vicodan which makes me feel sick. I figured ice and Aleve would see me through. By five p.m. I was begging for relief. This morning I woke up to a leg that felt like a huge dead fish. I had no muscle strength to lift the leg, the poor old quadriceps would twitch but not lift. I could even tolerate some weight bearing (of course with the crutches for support if need be) but could not lift the darn leg to even get in and out of the chair or to prop it on a pillow. We took off the outer bandage and the lower part of the thigh was so swollen you couldn't even see a knee cap. Whoever it was who claimed they went dancing on the third day after the same surgery (and it was a guy no less and we women all know what babies they are about pain) all I have to say is big fat liar.

My daughter has been fabulous. She has listened to me griping, jumped to attention with every movement I've made, even second guessed most of my needs. Today she cleaned the whole place before leaving, without being asked, and this is a girl who hates housework. My son is on his way down and he gets the job of taking me for my first Doctor's appointment. That should be fun. Other interesting thing, no shower until evening on Monday, can't wash my hair either unless I do it in the kitchen sink. I don't think so. Knowing me I'd spill water everywhere , slip and break my a$$.

On the plus side, we've watched the Stanley Cup finals, the first game of the Lakers/Celtics finals, the movies Moonstruck, Twenty-Seven Dresses, and Mad Money. Last night we pigged out on pizza which I haven't had in six months. All things I rarely bother doing when I'm on my own. Whenever there is spare time I use it to write, and I'm always trying to chase off the last ten pounds of whatever diet I'm kidding myself I'm on. I'm betting Sunday night we watch another Lakers game and eat more pizza. I see an additional five pound weight gain in my near future.

But, it's all good. This, without the annoyance of the flabby dead fish leg, is like a vacation. I love spending time with my kids, they're always entertaining. It's hard for me to accept help, I have no trouble aiding others, but recieving? My daughter said this must feel so strange to you Mom, you're always the doer. It's true but you know, this was kind of nice. I could get used to it. Can't you see me as the elderly lady in the pink feather boa reclining in a silk dressing gown on a fainting couch ringing a bell for attention? I think I would have been a great Southern damsel from an early era. "Forget about Rhett. There are plenty more fish in the sea. Bring me another mint julep, dear, and where are the bon-bons?"

Exorcism.

2008-05-28T15:54:00.000-07:00

I saw the orthopod yesterday (that's medical language for an orthopedic physician) and got the post MRI news. I tore the medial meniscus and am tentatively scheduled for an Arthroscopy next Thursday. The orthopod had better be good at exorcism because I want that ghost out of my knee ASAP. I questioned doing physiotherapy vs. surgery but he thought I'd given the knee several months to heal on its own and it wasn't happening. I do trust him and I know several people who have had far worse situations that he has handled with expertise. Also, he thinks I'm young. Hah. Okay so he had me at, "We should do this now while you're young and in good shape." I looooove this guy.

I saw the news on Tiger Woods yesterday. He had similar surgery on April 15th and has just cancelled a big golf tournament because his knee is still swelling. Yikes! The orthopod told me I'd recover fairly quickly, a couple of weeks of physio and I'd be fine. I'm wondering if I should cancel RWA National for this year. Maybe I'll rethink everything in late June. Woods is about a quarter my age (just kidding) but heck he's a kid and an athlete, what hope do I have? I'm an old couch potato. Or at least a chip-eating massage-recliner person.

Anyway, on the positive side, while I'm recovering and spending half of my day at physio I'll also have a lot of time to write. I had a request on Sunday from an agent for a proposal of a manuscript that had finalled in a contest. Yay! So I put together the required package and dug out the biography from way back when. It was horrible. So stiff and formal. I decided on a narrative style bio and sent everything off today. Hope she doesn't think I'm a loony tune. I'm still working on the manuscript. It's shaping up nicely and by the time she makes her decision, of whether or not she'd like to see the complete manuscript, I feel confident it will be ready to ship out.

So who says the universe doesn't have a master plan, huh? Force me to stay home and quit playing and I'll finish a manuscript. Not that I'd advise anyone to smash up their knee to get time to finish a story. There are other more comfortable ways. Just sayin'.

Weird happenings.

2008-05-15T17:51:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I've got ghosts in the plumbing of one toilet, a ghost in my computer, and a ghost in my right knee. They've all been rumbling and clanking around and causing all kinds of damage for weeks now. Remember, I'm a cheapskate and a Ms. Fix-it (it's the old nurse in me) so pay someone to come take care of the problems? Hell, no, that would be too easy, I'll just keep playing around until I totally wreck all three things.

I quizzed a neighbor who used to be a plumber. He gave some sensible advice. I tried it and for a few days the echo in the pipes everytime I flushed went away. THEY'RE BACK! So my answer, don't use it. Use another one instead, so how come I keep going into that one and not remember what I'd decided until the moment I flush? Sigh. I can see a plumber's fee in my future.

Couldn't figure out why I'd lost the wireless aspect to my laptop. Couldn't use it outside or in the living room. Desktop computer was slow. On Sunday I figured, being Mothers Day I'd send a reminder to my chapter mates about registering for the RWA National conference Agent and Editor appointments to be held Monday morning. At 0600 hours in California. Yikes! Those appointments go swiftly so I also gave pointers to the newbies on how to print up and highlight their wishlist of the top five people interested in the genre they write. I advised they keep it beside their computer because once they'd get to the RWA site they'd find some agent/editors would fill up fast and they might panic and end up with someone who didn't want what they wrote. Sound advice right?

Monday I overslept. Just reached out and turned off the offending alarm. I got to the computer around 0730 cup of coffee in hand, still feeling it would be okay. The RWA computer crashed. I was getting a "This site is not configured" report. Finally called to the office after wasting an hour of trying to refresh the page. They said it would be up again by the afternoon but to check back every hour or so. I did. Still the same message. Finally at almost closing time, I called again. They said maybe delete cookies. I did that, still nothing. I called back and found out the site had only crashed for half an hour around seven in the morning. Now I saw the humor in all of this. I'd been raised to be polite, to never push or be aggressive. But hell, I'm a grown woman now, you'd think I could get past those childish things. Old Ms. Polite here sat on her hands until almost five o'clock.

Today I paid for someone to come and look at both desktop and laptop. He was brilliant. We cleaned everything up and exorcized the ghosts. We found there is only one position my desk can be in to get that DSL/Wireless working properly. I had moved the office around about two months ago, reversing the position of the desk to where it faced the mountains. How weird is that? As soon as we put the desk back underneath the window everything worked. Ghosts I tell you.

The knee went out a couple of months ago. My dog ran into it at top speed. So, I was good and eventually saw an Orthopedic Doctor. He threatened me with an MRI and possible Arthroscopy. I hadn't met my deductible : ) so decided I could fix it myself. I began my own physiotherapy in the pool. Some days it's good other days it gets all hot and cranky. I've seen the Chiropractor and had ultrasound treatments. He's ordered a Cho-Strap to support the patella but, yeah, it's back ordered and won't be here for another week. I've iced the knee down after every time I walk the dog. I'm using the Spinner bike to strengthen the muscles and tendons. Yet still the knee ghost lives on. Now I know it's a ghost because it keeps moving. One day it's sore at the front, the next day the inner aspect. Sometimes it feels swollen behind the knee. Vaccuuming is out of the question. I'm living on Aleve.

Today, in the wake of one success, I decided I've had enough.
Tomorrow I call the plumber and the Ortho guy.

Work and Workshops.

2008-05-04T20:39:00.001-07:00

This has been a very busy week for me.

I recieved an honorable mention for a blog contest. Yay! My entry was in the Romantic Suspense category, and I was thrilled. I've won and placed in other writing contests but for some reason this meant so much more. Maybe because it was being judged by agents who are well known in the industry for being straight shooters? Who knows? Anyway, I love those people, the SS's of the world. Why candy-coat something? This business is hard enough to break into without someone leading you on that your work is good when it totally sucks. I'm all for "just give me the facts, ma'am." I can deal with that. Tell me the truth and I'll learn how to correct, how to make it better.

Anyway, the very next day, after riding the crest of the wave that somebody "got" my work, I had a rejection from the editor in NY for another manuscript. Sigh. I was tossed back onto the hard sandy beach. I'd held out hopes for this one because they'd read the first 100 pages and then asked for the full manuscript. But, truth be told, I knew my chances were slim to none. After coming home from conference, I'd rushed the ending just in case they asked for the complete manuscript. Not a good idea. Never a good idea. The editor had liked my style saying it was easy-to-read, liked my characters, but thought overall, the writing just wasn't strong enough to make this a big book.

I scratched my head. Big book? Hell, I didn't want a big book, just give me a foot in the door with a little book and I'll work my way up. Grin. So I emailed a multi-pubbed author who I've met on several occasions (and won't name here because I don't think she wants to be flooded with critique requests) and asked her, "How does one go about making their writing stronger? What is it voice, word choice, changing the weird way I string my sentences together? Should I take college courses, go to a retreat?" She said, send me a chapter and I'll critique it.

I shook in my boots, literally, except I think I was in P.J.'s at the time and the boots were slippers. Anyway, she critiqued the chapter and wrote back something very interesting: I was strangling my voice. My characters were dying on the page. I wasn't letting them breathe and I wasn't letting my true voice shine through. She told me to stop manipulating the characters to do what I wanted them to do, and to trust myself, and to stay in the story now. Forget the past. Forget the history. Then she gave me examples and showed me how--by deleting sections where I'd info dumped or thought I was threading through valuable information that the reader needed to know--my story would become more interesting.

What I saw was an entirely different story. A vibrant story that made me want to turn the pages. Pages of my own story. Can you believe that? Ha ha. And she'd done this without harshness and without the sugar-coating. I got it. I understood her words and her directions immediately. I saw from her example what my work could become. This morning I got up and using my author friends editing advice, reworked the manuscript. Yay! I cannot believe the difference. I owe her at least seventy-five dinners, I think. But on the other hand I'm pissed because she kept talking about letting things breathe and I got this bug in my ear of the lyrics to Faith Hill's song, Breathe. Yeah, I picked up the CD, Faith Hill The Hits, at Circuit City and I played it all day. No wonder the dog stayed outside.

I went to the LARA annual workshop, in Los Angeles, yesterday. The guest speaker was multi-pubbed, NY times best seller of Regency novels, Julia Quinn. What a sweet and funny lady. Her humor is infectious and she doesn't take herself terribly seriously. She spoke about dialogue and quirky punctuation, but the best thing was she opened her entire day to questions. None of this saving until the end and then forgetting what it was you intended to ask. Of course that meant for an unwieldy format with many digressions, but it was the thing I personally liked best about the day. You have to be a really good writer, know your craft inside out and upside down to be able to be thrown off track like that and switch hats and come up with the right and meaningful answers. Anyone can stand in front of an audience and give a dry lecture. But to be open like that, and vulnerable to whatever is thrown your way, that takes an expert.

So all in all, a busy week, a rollercoaster of emotion, but I'm still here, kicking, fighting back and forging ahead. It's not all bad.

Historical Romance

2008-04-24T21:58:00.000-07:00

Wow! I just finished a historical romance tonight that blew my socks off!

Bennett, TJ: The Legacy, Medallion Press, April 2008.

This is TJ Bennett's debut novel but I had the feeling I was reading a seasoned author's work. I know TJ personally, a few years ago we were in a critique group together, but honestly I'm not pushing her book here, this story is terrific and I'd be saying this even if I didn't know her.

TJ tackled an era in history that was dark to say the least, and one not many romance authors would think of as a backdrop to a passionate romance between a commoner and a noblewoman. Try 1525 Germany, the Early Reformation period. TJ did her research and it shows. The history is deftly woven throughout, no info dumps evident, yet the reader knows exactly where she is at all times. The characters are wonderful, larger than life. I want to be careful not to do a spoiler here because I know you'll want to let this lovestory of Sabina and Wolfgang, forced into a marriage neither wants and both convinced they will never consummate, unfold as you greedily turn the pages.

Suffice it to say that this sensual, action-packed story with its rising stakes refused to allow me to put the book down. There was a tenderness that brought tears to my eyes, heat that made me head for the cold shower, and action that had me on the edge of the seat. This author doesn't shy away from the brutality of the era, the romance contrasted against the reality of the time period is what made it a riveting story for me. And when you finish it, if you're at all like me, you'll be saddened at the loss of these friends as if they were loved ones leaving for distant shores and you aren't certain you'll ever meet again.

But fear not, there is a sequel, the story of Wolfgang's brother, Gunter, The Promise, will be available in May, 2009. I know I can't wait!

Check out this book at http://www.medallionpress.com/ or http://www.amazon.com/ or http://www.bn.com/
To read more about this fabulous new author, please visit her website: http://www.tjbennett.com/

A gathering she did go ...

2008-04-10T17:26:00.000-07:00

This has been a fabulous couple of weeks. I had information/research to gather before I could progress with my current manuscript. I could get a lot from websites and books, but what I'm talking about are the small but important details. The type of information that makes a scene spring to life. Whether that comes from talking to someone in the same business as my main character, or observing the person going about a normal day's activity, or getting the real skinny on their situation. There is nothing like taking your yellow legal pad and a nice sharp pencil and talking to real live people.

First, I needed to get information on horses. I've ridden them in the past, but it has been a long time. Plus, I needed some specifics that related to my heroine, petite little character that she is, and horsewoman that she isn't. I had made a comment on my prior post and Barbara Martin, another author and one who I've never met (except via Jenny Crusie's and Bob Mayer's blogs) immediately contacted me. She has a wealth of information. After telling her what I needed to know she went into great detail. Way and above the call of duty to a fellow blogger. I printed up her horse-related comments and had a blast creating a scene, I loved it so much I decided to do another, and then at the end of the book I'll write a final horse scene. It's one of Jenny's rules of three. And here I was only going to do one scene, now my horses, or at least one of them, becomes a character and has her own arc. Hah.

Two days later I got up the nerve to ask one of my Polo playing neighbors, Rick, (who I've only had casual nodding good morning type dialogue with) a few more horse questions, things I didn't want to bother Barbara with and learned even more. He was happy to help. I've gone back into the manuscript and threaded through all of the details. You wouldn't think that one or two words here and there would make a difference, but they do.

Today, when I thought things couldn't get any better, I visited the La Quinta P.D. to make sure I had my homicide investigation set up right. The deputy on the desk was Jeffrey Covington. What a nice man. He went over, in great detail, all of my questions related to unincorporated areas in the Coachella Valley. My questions on who would be first on scene, the Riverside County Sherrifs, the Deputy from the local P.D. Sub Station? Would there be a back-up officer? Where would he come from? Would they take the suspect in for questioning or interview him on the spot? Would they invite him to come down to the station? Would they handcuff him and take him in? Big difference and all things I want to get right.

I've learned, you can't watch television, like Cops, or NYPD, or CSI Miami, and think that that is how it's done. I discovered that from a Forensics class I took in San Diego. Anyway, by the time I left the station, Deputy Covington was helping me to write my story, much to the amusement of the other man on the desk. I wasn't too far off in my assumption of how the investigation would be carried out but after talking with the deputy I felt more confident when I went back to those scenes. They are more vivid now.

New Awareness

2008-03-30T17:36:00.000-07:00

I've found a really nice place with my writing, a new awareness that my stories are good. I like them. For a long time now I've been questioning my talent. It happens. Writing/reading is very subjective and when you are actively pursuing publication you get a lot of rejection. Rejection is bound to make you question your abilities.

I was on an agency blog last week that was running a competition where writers were invited to submit a portion of their work and one winner would be chosen. I'd missed my category otherwise I'd have given it a shot. Ah, well. Next time. Anyway, one person was very disappointed in the result of the Thriller/Suspense decision. I could hear the pain in the voice and I want to say I think it was a guy. He/she had said they might as well chuck the whole writing thing. I've been there and done that. I think I lasted three weeks then I starting turning up at the computer and playing. I finally figured if I was going to sit in that chair I might as well work. Rejection is very hard to take, even when it's a kind rejection, or one that offers you some good advice. Bottom line is, it's still a rejection. Everyone gave the writer all of the emotional support possible but I knew how he felt. Words wouldn't cut it. I wanted to reach through cyberspace and give him a big hug and take him out for a beer.

Anyway, with my new awareness I'm relaxing more, having fun again, playing around with ideas and really enjoying the process of outlining my current story. The setting is the Coachella Valley, so no travel required. I've written three chapters and am getting a good feel for my characters. I think this one is a winner. Well, it will be if I can just get myself down to the Police Station and get some questions answered. I need answers on horses, too. Have a couple of guys on the Polo circuit living across the street. Yesterday I asked one of them if I could pick his brain on horse stuff. He smiled. I think he felt quite pleased to be asked. Now I just have to make up my list of questions and go ring his doorbell.

Books read this month:
Blue Dahlia and Black Rose, Nora Roberts (now I have to find the third book in the trilogy, Red Lily. This is a great ghost story intertwined with fantastic gardens and a nursery business.)
Crazy in Love, Lani Diane Rich (A very sweet, smart, funny book. I like Lani's voice. Also, her setting was in some ways similar to my setting in Saving Sarah so I enjoyed that aspect.)
Fugitive Nights, Joseph Wambaugh (Can't believe I've never read him before. I love this guy's humor. It's great cop-speak, raucous, rough at times, but laugh-out-loud funny. I've ordered every book I can get hold of on his back list.)
Getting Rid of Bradley, Jennifer Crusie (adore everything she writes and this was a re-read and just as enjoyable the second time around. She has incredible turns of phrase and wit and I think I own everything on her back list. This one will be featured on Jenny's Cherry Forums bookclub this week. We get to discuss, answer questions, ask questions of the author. Yay!)
The Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever, Julia Quinn (just started this one and am absolutely hooked. Ms. Quinn will be the guest speaker at LARA's workshop in May. Can't wait to learn everything she's willing to impart.)

L.A.

2008-03-17T13:43:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a trip to Los Angeles to see my kids and to attend the meeting of my romance writers chapter, LARA. It was great to be back in the city and this time it seems I didn't notice the grime, or the traffic, or the crowds. It was totally fun! Does that mean a hankering to go back there to live? Who knows. Maybe. At least it's now no longer a no way nohow situation. The desert is nice and I do enjoy it for eight months of the year. If I had a little more money I would live here and escape for the two hottest months during the summer and that would make it doable. But who can afford a two month vacation? Not this baby.

Anyway, the kids are both looking good and doing great and that always makes a mother happy. I stayed a few days with my daughter and on Saturday we decided to go to Nordstrom Rack and "take a look." Sometime later I was feeling a little tired and a lot hungry, took a look at my watch and realised we'd been shopping for three hours. I never do that, I hate shopping. But for some reason I hadn't noticed the time. We both ended up with wonderful purchases and saved a ton of money.

My daughter is losing weight and beginning a bootcamp today where they do six-mile sunrise hikes in Griffith Park and other intensive workouts that I can only think about with my wonky knees and fat ass. So she bought a ton of stuff that looked good on her but was a little tight. She then went home and took out a bunch of gift boxes, neatly folded these items and put them in the boxes, then labelled them as 5lbs, 10lbs, 15lbs and 20lbs. She stores them and when she reaches her goal she opens up her gift for that weight loss. She said it's always a terrific surprise as she can never remember what is in the boxes. What a great idea. I'm going to try it. Also she's making me weigh in when I go up in mid April. I'll lose 5lbs to her ten but that's okay. I'm older and everything is slower. I'd be thrilled with another 5lb loss.

Anyway, my daughter encouraged me to try on a jean skirt at Nordstrom Rack. I haven't worn one in years. I loved it and it made me look slimmer, so I bought it and wore it the next day to the LARA meeting. Who knew that when I sat down the slit in the front would open wide and end at "you know where?" Well, almost. Sheesh. Lucky for me I had a steno pad to take notes on and could cover the naked flesh of my chubby thighs with that.

My friend, Lynn Marshall, gave a great talk on Riveting Revisions. She's a very generous soul and shares her writing experiences to help new writers along the hard road to publication. Her sharing is deep and honest. Lynn has no qualms about exposing a faux pas or the struggles she had to get where she is today. She has six published Harlequin Mills and Boon medical romances, and just signed another contract with them. Her stories are emotionally driven and keep you turning the pages. You literally fall in love with her characters. She had a book signing after the meeting and I purchased her latest, Single Dad, Nurse Bride. I started it last night and am at chapter five. It's a feel good read. It was great to be back amongst a group of writers again, and nice to see many old friends.

I woke up to an email message from NY last Wednesday, a request to send my entire manuscript to an editor. I couldn't stop shaking. What did this mean? Oh, my! They'd read the first five chapters, liked it and requested the rest, it was as simple as that. But because I'd never been asked to submit a full manuscript by email (it's normally by regular mail) I went a little over the top on the excitement scale. I kept running around the house talking to my dog. Of course she sensed the excitement and kept cocking her head to one side as if asking, "What is it a walk? A drive in the car? Who is coming to stay? Did someone say cookie?" I finally calmed down and eventually sent off the manuscript around 1pm. Geez. I wonder what I'd do if I ever got "the call?"

A Great Couple of Weeks!

2008-03-01T15:06:00.000-08:00

Since I last posted I've been on a writing roll, no fooling around on blogs. It's amazing how much actual writing can be achieved in two weeks. Of course there are one or two blogs I still visit as a reward for having put in the hours, but no more trolling. Instead I'm using my extra time to work out. I've bought a Spinner (an indoor bicycle) and love using it. Once I lose 20 lbs I'm going back to swimming but for now, it's sweatin' away on the bike.

I hated being away from my writers group, so rejoined LARA. Even though it's a two and a half hour drive (when traffic flow is good) I want to stay connected. Also, I missed hearing everyone's latest news. Now I'm back up and running and on the LARA link, so all is good. Even if I only make four or five meetings a year it's better than none at all. My one writer friend in the desert moved to Arizona. I do have a friend who is about an hour's drive away and we often meet up for lunch and a chat and to commiserate on this crazy thing called writing that we both love. Without her I'd be totally out of the loop.

Life has been pretty good of late. Nothing much to report on, which is always good news.
For the newbie writer check out Bookends Literary Agency. The agents have been doing something I've quite enjoyed, several contests for the opening 100 words of your manuscript and the winner gets to submit a chapter or so for review. http://bookendslitagency.blogspot.com/
They've broken the contest into subgenres and I think have just completed the Paranormal and Erotica categories. Next up is Women's Fiction. I love reading these openings, and comparing mine. Beginnings are hard to do. Nailing all of the important elements to entice someone to continue to read (while making it make sense) is truly an art form.

Not sure what is up next, maybe enter a couple of contests. Maybe not. I'm mapping out my characters for my new story. It's going well. This will be another romantic suspense. Not 100% sure on the title yet but the outline is plumping up nicely. I love this stage of writing, it's very exciting seeing the characters come to life.

Out of the cave

2008-02-16T07:37:00.000-08:00

I'm coming out of that deep dark place that writers often go to, not to hide or be deliberately anti-social, just a spot that is deep within that closes everything else out and enables the creativity to flow unhindered. It has become a nice place for me, a familiar place over the past couple of years. A place where if I'm undisturbed the night dreams of my story can merge with the waking thoughts to create something deeper and more meaningful. Much better than if my storytelling was left to the tiresome tapping of forced fingers to keyboard.

New acquaintances often don't quite understand and think of this as isolation. "Who do you think you are a starving artist hiding in the attic?" they'll ask in a joking voice with a hint of accusation. I look at my p.j. bottoms, slippers, and old tatty cardigan and think, yeah, I'm playing the role, but the key is, I like it! They figure you have to eat, so why not go to a restaurant? Or take in a movie, "it's only two hours" or go shopping, "everyone needs clothes and have you seen that cardigan lately?"

The problem is if you follow the advice and join them, the whole time you're either thinking about your imaginary friends, writing scenes in your head, looking at your watch every five minutes, or taking over the entire conversation with the telling of the story you're writing. Every writer or artist has their own process. What truly works for them. I think it's important to find it early in your career and honor it, not make excuses for it.

What works for me is intense stints of time, maybe three weeks, where I go to my cave and ignore the world. Fortunately my family and longtime friends understand me and leave me alone when I withdraw like that. They trust I'll come back happier for the journey. So, now I'm looking around ready to rejoin the rest of the world and wondering where the sun came from. Last time I recall thinking about weather I had on a heavy jacket, scarf, and gloves, but it's mid-February in the California desert, of course there's sun. Hmmm, now where are my shorts?

Have I quit writing yet?

2008-01-29T18:18:00.000-08:00

Just got back on Sunday afternoon from a long weekend writers conference. I've attended the San Diego State University Conference four or five times since 2000. It's one of my favorites because it encompasses all genres. I find it invigorating to mix with short story writers, poets, authors of children's books, literary fiction, thrillers, SF, fantasy, and of course romance.

I'd booked this conference back in November and then lost my confidence in my writing abilities. It seemed nothing was going right in my life. I procrastinated about cancelling right up until a couple of days before, then I had to email Jenny Crusie about something else and mentioned my fragile state. She got the pom-poms out and gave me the Crusie blessing. Or did she say, "Quit bitching and get your ass to San Diego," either way it worked? Even though I'd had a bad sinus attack that had lasted ten days (and still lives on, darn it) I ended up having one of the best and most fruitful conferences ever.

One of the highlights was meeting and chatting for an hour or so with Susan Wiggs. It turns out we both have relatives who live in this tiny Northern Territory of Australia town that has a population of about 4,000. Small world, huh? Susan is one of my favorite authors. I love the emotional character arc of her protagonists. In fact I told her I'd nicknamed her novel, A Table For Five, the two hand sweep. I'd have to put the book down and sweep my cheeks with both hands because I was constantly crying. Not that boo-hoo sobbing kind of crying, more the type where you don't even realize you're doing it but your face is constantly wet. Never been there? Never mind. It must have hit an emotional chord with me. It's truly a lovely story and very well written.

I also got to quiz Bob Mayer on a couple of writing questions although I didn't take any of his classes this time as I'd just gone to his retreat. I met up with a lot of lovely ladies, had many memorable conversations and attended an evening critique session that started at 8:30pm and ended at 2:15 am. We each turned in the first three pages of our manuscript, the facilitator read the entry aloud and we all got to comment, then she gave her critique. It was extremely beneficial and pointed out to me that 75% of the problems newbie writers have is in the area of point of view violation and exposition. I remember those days well.

I received several invitations to submit my work and am beyond thrilled. Today I began an indepth polish of the manuscript and I'm liking it more than ever. I asked for three or four weeks before sending because I don't want to rush this. My norm is usually to run home, print up the manuscript and send it immediately. As I told some of my writing buddies, in the past if my work had been steak it would still have been mooing on the plate. By taking my time, this time around, I'm hoping the work won't be undercooked.

So by the looks of things, I'm back. All I needed was a little injection of confidence. My stint away from writing lasted less than a month. Not bad, huh?

Judge or Judge Not?

2008-01-15T11:16:00.000-08:00

An issue in the world of romance writing raised it's ugly head this past week and caused many to sit back on their heels. Some chose to scrutinize their own work, some became indignant, others hurled insults, some tried to defend or reserve judgment, others enjoyed playing this out.

What happened? An author was publicly exposed for plagiarism on a blog site titled, Smart Bitches who Love Trashy Novels. Before we go any further, I am against plagiarism. But I am also against murder, rape, child abuse, stealing, lying, road rage, cheating, false accusations, flaming, public ridicule, assumptions, self-righteousness, judging others, and oh, yeah, kicking dead horses.

The thing that made me sick to my stomach this week was not the plagiarism (which I know is wrong, wrong, wrong, and when discovered the blog site owners had every right to disclose it) but the way the author was treated. Her treatment was as criminal as the charge made. The pack mentality ran rampant. I don't believe we have the right to judge anyone or to publicly berate and humiliate another person. We can make a statement of concern. We can raise issues. We can make a complaint. We can discuss and give an informed opinion. But I think that's about as far as any individual can go. Aren't we supposed to give everyone the benefit of doubt? Aren't they considered innocent until proven guilty, no matter how damaging evidence looks on first appraisal, or even second or third appraisal?

The author in question (who by the way, I do not know nor have I ever read her work) was interviewed and she made a public statement, Romance Writers of America made a statement, the publishers who published the novels made a statement. Each one used their right to remain silent, or reserve judgment, until a full examination of the claim of plagiarism is made.

Unfortunately, the commenters on the blog site mentioned continued to berate, and in my opinion, harrass the author to the extent that they would not accept any reference to a "let's wait and see" attitude or any opinion that disagreed with theirs. They gloated and congratulated each other with every new mention in a blog or newspaper article. It was a sad week for women, for romance authors, and for writers everywhere.

Plagiarism is a crime punishable by law. There are fair right usage laws, copyright laws, ways to attribute research. If the author did not follow the law she'll be punished by the law, not by fellow authors or blog owners or readers of romance novels. There is a common decency in treating another human being who is under scrutiny. Innocent until proven guilty is one of them. Compassion is another. We all make mistakes. Allowing a person to present their case, get a fair trial, accept a judgment, pay a penalty, serve time, apologise for any wrong doing, those are their rights as a human being in our society and I don't know about you, but I'm willing to take a non-judgmental attitude and wait and see how the author handles this awful situation.

Happy New Year!

2007-12-31T14:54:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year everyone and may the new year bring you whatever it is that makes you feel good about you! Me, I'm going to shoot for enjoyment of my surroundings and loved ones.

Maybe I'll quit writing completely, or publish one of my completed manuscripts, or tackle a new manuscript. I don't know what is in store for me and for some strange reason I'm not worried about anything. I recently stepped away from my local romance writing group, and I've decided to forgo my prior intensive drive to get published again. I'm thinking of taking a few interesting classes, doing some volunteer work, travelling, mixing it up.

I'm taking back the bit of me that I kept in reserve to get the writing done and to pursue that dream to have a career as an author. It's been five solid years of learning the craft of writing, completing six manuscripts and getting nowhere. As each year has passed I've recognized the increased difficulty for new writers to get published with large publishing houses. Most likely I won't give up writing completely as I do enjoy it, it will however take less of a role in my life. I figure I'm not getting any younger and the years are slipping away, there are so many adventures yet to be had and I can't embrace them while glued to a computer chair. So look out Tibet, Machu Pichu, The Amazon, Corsica, that Mediterranean Cruise I've always wanted to take ... I'm saving my money and here I come.

So raise your glass with me in a toast to 2008 and new adventures! May we all have as many as we can comfortably handle and may they bring us intense happiness.

Happy Holidays!

2007-12-25T18:19:00.000-08:00

Regardless of what you celebrate, or if you choose to celebrate nothing, you must admit this is a lovely season of the year. I don't think of it as religious just as connecting. I drove through the gates of the development that I live in tonight and admired the palm trees around the lake, which are wrapped with twinkle lights. Many of the houses are decorated, people stop their cars to shout out Merry Christmas, and even though I haven't truthfully celebrated Christmas in years, I open my car window and grin and shout the greeting back. It feels good.

In recent years I've chosen to ignore the holidays. I converted to Judiasm when I married my ex-husband and raised our two kids in the Jewish faith. Whatever I knew or believed in from my upbringing, which was Anglican, changed with that decision. After our divorce I was in limbo for a long while. What did I really believe? The answer was, a little of everything. My children grew up and chose whatever life partners and beliefs they wanted. I accepted their decisions.

The only time I ever think about things like this is at the holidays. I have such a mish-mash of understanding when it comes to religion and am open to everything. I love to attend Temple, yet I'm blown away by a Catholic High Mass. When I studied Neo-Paganism for a story I was writing I could totally relate, I even told my daughter I wanted a scrying ball for my birthday. And she very nicely bought me one. When I read about Zen Buddism it makes sense to me. When I read about Quantum Physics I understand. However, a few years ago, I stood in the middle of Notre Dame and cried bucket loads because of the sheer overwhelming beauty of the place and the way it spoke to me. Then I bought a St. Christopher medal and wore it on a bracelet next to my wristwatch. I wouldn't even take it off to shower. Weird huh?

I can't fathom what has gotten into me this year. I even accepted an invite to Christmas Eve dinner at my best gal pal's home. She said, "We're by ourselves. The kids aren't coming this year. It would please us immensely." My friend's husband is of French birth and loves to cook. He put on his black apron from the Margaux district and set to work, loving that he had an audience as he chopped and basted and mixed. Nothing pleases him more. We, my friend and I, sat at the table in the kitchen and drank fine wine and nibbled on cheese and watched him and kept him entertained with our chatter. He doesn't have an accent, having lived here since his late high school years, but man can he speak French beautifully. I know why she fell in love with him. That language is like catnip to this cat. He spoke of growing up in France pre-world war two and scoffed at my description of a chicken recipe I learned to make from a Frenchman I dated several years ago. My date had assured me one should always use a good white wine, and the entire bottle, none of that cheap cooking wine for him.

"In France we drink the wine," my friend's husband said. "Who would waste a good wine by pouring it on food?" I laughed and took another sip of the buttery-smooth cabernet sauvignon and had to agree. Nobody was getting my wine to pour over a chicken.

Today I took my dog over to the Polo grounds and watched a few players put their horses through their training. My dog was fascinated. We love to watch them, man and beast fused as if one. It's a great game. Can't wait for the season to start. Then I came home and prepared a mini-feast for one, well, one and a dog. I had long conversations with friends and family, wrote emails and read emails.

Tonight I'm alone but I don't mind that one bit. I've had invitations but prefer to be here savoring the peace and quiet. Giving doesn't have to rely on a season, or a day, or family, or company, or giving of gifts. We can make it what we want. We can derive simple pleasures from the day and give silent thanks, or talk to our dog, or think up ways to give to others in small non-commercial ways. Like giving a French Chef the praise and attention he needs to perfect a grand meal.

Happy holidays to all, and a very happy, healthy, and creative 2008!

What are you Reading?

2007-12-12T12:26:00.000-08:00

The Island, by Victoria Hislop, was my last truly amazing read. This story is Hislop's debut novel. The book was published in Europe and the U.K. in 2005 and has been acquired by Harper Collins, I believe it has either just come out in the U.S. or it will any day now. I had the opportunity to read an arc or advanced reader copy.

The story is set in Greece in the 1940's on the island of Crete. It starts out in contemporary London where the heroine is drawn to trace her family roots in Greece. She knows there is a mystery in her mother's past, something her mother refuses to discuss. When she arrives in Crete she is told the story of the town, of her mother's relatives, and the history of an island, Spinalonga, which was once a leper colony. A colony where her own relatives were sent. The story deals with the complexities of mother/daughter relationships, sisters, forbidden love, disease, and prejudice, and all with a deft hand and a sensitivity that is evident through the author's beautiful prose.

After reading this novel I had a yearning to read books from earlier times, historical romance, classics, I couldn't get enough of the lyrical prose that had filled my thoughts when reading The Island. Last week a friend gave me an early Christmas gift, Cotillion, by Georgette Heyer, it was originally published in 1953, this one is a 2007 release from Sourcebooks Casablanca, the cover is gorgeous, the paper is fantastic, the interior design simple but elegant. It has a really good feel to it and I love that.

I'd never read this book, although as a teenager I loved Regency and Gothic novels best of any. I've been swept up into the Regency period again and loving it. I read until almost two a.m. last night, unable to put this story down. It's a slow start and if I were writing it I'd start from the protagonist point of view in chapter two and weave the tedious male conversation in chapter one throughout the novel, but that's a contemporary author speaking. For the period, the story works, but for many of today's readers it's a slow start. Stick with it, it's a great read.

Both books are beautiful to look at, a total luxury to read, and would make excellent holiday gifts for any lover of romance.

Keeping it Real.

2007-11-23T07:52:00.000-08:00

November has been a strange month for me emotionally, one of change, perhaps mirroring the season? Trees are losing their leaves or changing color. Mountain tops are capped with snow. Nights are cooler, days are shorter. The ducks and the Coots are setting up residence around the lake, and inside my little abode, my writing is getting a major overhaul.

I finished the story in NaNoWriMo, pushing through and completing the remaining 30,000 words in the first ten days and then dropping out as it was hard to do an actual wordcount once I began revising.

Several days later I read that Bob Mayer had two last minute cancellations for his writers retreat on Whidbey Island. I'd been interested in going. As luck would have it my dog sitter had just returned to work after a six week abscence following abdominal surgery. Was this a sign perhaps? Or would I merely shoot myself in the foot, become dejected after intensive feedback and give up writing forever?

I went. Now I'm back and more determined than ever to get this writing thing under control.

At the retreat there were six writers, one Category Romance, two Sci Fi, one Literary, one Chick Lit, and me. I'm writing (attempting to write) Romantic Suspense. Bob is multi-published in Sci Fi, Thriller, and Romantic Adventure. It was an interesting group and I did learn a lot. I'd highly recommend it to anyone who feels stuck. Bob has this knack of pulling the eyes of the story out and saving those, getting rid of what doesn't work, reworking the original story idea or concept, and keeping it all simple. I had thrown in everything but the kitchen sink, all external conflict, not much emotional. Sigh. He uses the KISS theory--keep it simple stupid--I'm simplifying like crazy now.

I'd tried a story within a story and Bob didn't like it. Neither did anyone else. It had major flaws. He advised ditching the second story and using a clean, linear structure. At first I didn't like my simplified story idea, it semed barren, perhaps told too many times by more proficient and talented writers. I felt I had no new spin to give this story, then I realised the details are all in the characters anyway. Sooooo, make my characters more interesting, dig deeper, I mean really, really deep, show more real motivation. It's a start. Painful, but a start.

This is going to be a long journey. But I swear, I'm keeping it real. Who knows, I may have a major break through in my writing style. It'd be about time.

For information on Bob's future retreats, go to http://www.bobmayer.org/

NaNoWriMo

2007-11-02T20:20:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited, I've always thought about doing this writing challenge but each year November rolls around and I'm struggling to get an RWA Golden Heart entry finished and can't see my way clear. This year is different.

I am a proud first time participant in NaNoWriMo. Yay! me! I'm part of The Cherries group which has I think nine or ten writers.

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, this is a free organization that challenges authors around the world to write their little hearts out during the month of November. You can't start writing until the first of November and then you complete your writing on the 30th. The idea is to finish a novel of fifty thousand words in one month. You don't stop to tinker, or make corrections, you just plow through. What fun, huh? Block that internal editor and just fly free putting copious words on the page. There's time over the holidays to play with the story and embellish it or make it better. And if it's really, really bad and totally beyond redemption, there's always the trash bin. *grin*

I've been learning the craft of writing all year long. In some ways I've been intimidated rather than stimulated to write. Now that I know more of the rules of writing I realize those same rules have been holding me back. It has taken me until now to try to really write anything new. I've been doing rewrites all year and while that has been helpful, they aren't fresh ideas, or stimulating new work.

This is the end of the second day of NaNo. Yesterday I wrote an entire chapter, today not quite as much but I have a two day total of 6,679 words. On the website you can record your daily word count and do an accumulative count. Also, you are associated with a region and each region around the world competes for the highest total word count. There are also discussion blogs, sharing of excerpts if you want to do that, and groups often form to do physical write-ins using their laptops. Loads of fun! I love how the story is shaping up and am excited to keep at it but realize I do need some sleep. At my current rate I'd be finished in two weeks but probably have severe back ache or a total meltdown. *grin*

There is a huge NaNo website, www.nanowrimo.org if you want to read about it. It truly is quite amazing. So, just in case you don't hear from me again until the end of the month, know that I'm here and slogging away. Wish me luck!

Fun Stuff

2007-10-20T14:36:00.000-07:00

Not much writing going on here in the past couple of weeks. It's all been fun, fun, fun. I had family visiting from Australia and had a wonderful time with them, then they took off for NYC, Vegas, Grand Canyon, S.F. and a drive down the West Coast to L.A. My son and daughter and son's girlfriend came to visit to help celebrate my birthday. More fun. Then everyone left and I had ten days to catch up on writing, however, I live in a development that has a home owners association and house painting was about to happen. No clear date, just a vague idea of when this would happen. I kept my fingers crossed it would all be done before everyone returned.

I spent days cutting back shrubs that grew near walls, moving garden furniture etc. House is finally done and looks gorgeous. I think of the color as iced cafe mocha, it's actually called Casita. The trim is vanilla. Yum. I'm having a front arbor built as there isn't much of an entryway to my front door so no curb side appeal, and it gets full sun. Then I'm training dark red bougainvillea up the posts. Should be gorgeous. I chose new outdoor lights, carriage style in antique brass, they look black but are actually a dark brown and the handyman got those up yesterday.

I cleaned everything, put the garden furniture back in place. Today I dead-headed the roses and then cleaned the house from top to bottom. Tonight my Aussie's return for four days before flying back home. I feel like I'm sitting here in my ballgown and jewellery waiting for my date to arrive. *grin* Everything feels wonderfully brand spanking new. Next week, I write.

Lopping off heads!

2007-09-30T15:21:00.000-07:00

I've been tromping through my current WIP (work in progress for you non-writers) in combat boots and wielding a big sharp knife, you know, like the one that Crocodile Dundee brought to NYC with him. When the young guy challenged him in the dark alley with something that looked like a switchblade, Croc laughed and in his pure Aussie accent, said, "Ya' call that a knife? This is a knife." Then he pulled out some huge, foot-long, sharp looking instrument and the bad guy ran away. I digress. I'm more like the Queen of Hearts walking around her garden screaming, "Off with their heads," and giving grandiose flicks of my chubby wrists.

I've removed many superfluous characters from this manuscript, which I wrote when I was a young babe (about four years ago) and have either merged them making for one much stronger character, or just eliminated them if the scene wasn't necessary. Remember, I said I was a babe and I meant in terms of writing. He he. Anyway, I was plowing through the manuscript fixing things, tweaking things, creating better character arcs, yet I still didn't like it. I'd come to this screeching halt at about the mid-point. It was boring. How could I ever expect anyone to pay money to read this story? Well, actually I do have to say the story is good it's just the heroine, she's not strong. She's boring. She's so damn passive I want to shake her and tell her to get a grip on her little old self.

On the verge of tossing the entire work, I went to the HWSW blog and Jenny Crusie had posted a lesson today 0n character arc. For those of you not familiar with this year long writers workshop: www.crusiemayer.com/workshop you must go and visit. It's the best.

Anyway, how timely was this? I asked Jenny the meaning of the term string-of-pearls plot. She replied: "The string of pearls plot is a series of events that are linked by problem or situation, but they don't escalate and therefore don't cause character change." I knew instantly what I had in this current story. My heroine was boring because she was making attempts to change but never did. Secretly, I think she was waiting for the knight in shining armor to come save her. Ain't gonna happen. This is a contemporary story set in NYC. Hell, the guys are too busy trying to save themselves let alone learn how to ride a big white horse.

Is my manuscript salvageable? Hmmm? I looked at it objectively and asked a lot of questions. Here are my answers: story is good, vibrant setting, I like the hero. He's a skank at first but he redeems himself. That's always good. I like my secondary characters and their subplots, like the paranormal aspects, plus there's a good mystery thread. It's a contemporary paranormal mystery.

Okyaaaay, so not as bad as I'd initially thought. Just make the heroine stronger. Make a kickass heroine. Now how hard could that be? I know, I'll just make her everything I'm not. She'll be my fantasy side. Yeah. She's already half my age so I'm writing a fantasy anyway. That's it, that's the ticket. For today at least, one head has been saved, there will be no more decapitations. Back to the drawing board.