WORD WRANGLERS

Let's Sum It Up

2012-01-27T06:00:00.000-05:00

This week we're talking about summary and query letter tips. When It comes to query letters, the only tip I have is don't come to me for tips. I'm not good at them. I never have been, don't know if I ever will be.

Summaries, that's another story. I don't like writing them, but I've gotten pretty good at it. First tip. Spell the editor/agent's name right. I know this seems like common sense, but I made this mistake once. I spent so much time polishing and proofreading the summary, I didn't bother to check the spelling of the editor's name...until after I hit send.

Next tip. You've got to pretty much ignore your secondary characters. You have five pages to sum up eighty thousand words. Keep the focus on the hero and heroine. You should mention the villain if he's a main part of the story.

Next. Don't include character dialogue. You're telling the story, not reading it. This is a situation when it's okay to tell and not show. Include all major plot points but keep it short and sweet. This is not the time to go into detail about the character's backstory, or how sad the heroine looked staring out the window on a rainy night contemplating where her life went wrong.

And the most important tip. Tell the whole story. For the love of all things good, don't end your summary with a cliff-hanger. I know someone who was about to do this. Her reasoning was if the agent wanted to know how it ended, she'd have to request the full. Thank goodness I talked her out of that.

That's pretty much it for me. I know I've probably left a few things out, so feel free to add your own tips.

Stupid Me

2012-01-26T01:22:00.006-05:00

I'm at the sub stage in my writing. And wouldn't it be nice if this was the easy part? Heck, you just finished an entire book--in my case 86K, not counting the several thousand that I've cut--edited it, rewrote parts or all of it and now you're--I'm--stuck on a stupid letter and a couple of pages?

Really?

Really.

I think I've got a workable query--especially after following a recent online contest critique. Check that out here.

http://cupidslitconnection.blogspot.com/2012/01/love-triangle-entry-8.html

But the synopsis. Ugh. Especially after Piper Denna's excellent suggestions in Monday's comment section.

It's funny how everything seems important when you're writing the book and even when you're trying to summarize it. "Oh, I have to mention Darby because she's Bix's best friend and first kiss--even if she's a lesbian." And that's important.

Or is it?

It seemed important when I wrote it. And it's a sweet scene that leads to the term "soulsibs" but in the large scope of the book.

Not so important.

Not when I waded through, reached the end, and realized-------
that key elements in the end weren't included in the synopsis. Oops.

Back to the drawing board but this time, I went backwards. I started at the end and began my trail backwards. By knowing what is important in the end leads me on the path that got me there.

I think this time it might work. I hope I'm right.

Kristina's 5-Step Synopsis Plan

2012-01-25T13:20:00.000-05:00

So, since we're talking about synopsi and the general ~~loathsome~~ dreaded task they are to write, I thought I'd pass along my Simple Synopsis Technique - which is actually pieces of many other writers' synopsis plans. I glommed what worked for me and made my own. Disclaimer: just because it works for me doesn't mean it'll work for you. Here goes:

Step One: Write one sentence describing each of the following: hero, heroine, beginning hook, major turning points and resolution. You should have (depending on length) 7 sentences, give or take. I write shorter so I usually have 3 turning points; obviously longer books will have more.

Step Two: Expand both the Hero and Heroine's sentence to become a GMC statement; 3-4 sentences (max) is good.

Step Two: Expand the beginning, turning points and resolution sentences to be NO MORE THAN a 3-4 sentence paragraph. No cheating: don't use And But Or to conjugate two sentences. This needs to be succinct.

Step Three: Add in the fun - what leads the characters from Beginning to Turning Point 1 to Turning Point 2 to the Black Moment to the Resolution? Again - be succinct. Some of these will be one sentence, some will be 2. Very few should be more than 3 sentences long.

Step Four: Don't forget the emotion. You've done such a good job of getting the Who What and When and possibly How down on the page. This is where you add in the Why - why does the Heroine act like ___, why does the Hero respond like ___; what emotional entanglement leads them to ___. Once again, be succinct. You're dealing with emotions at this point, but remember it's a synopsis not the actual book.

Step Five: Read it. At least twice, looking for moments or reactions or happenings that you forgot to include. If something big - not just the heroine getting a manicure, I mean a moment that changes things for the hero or heroine - happens and you've not mentioned, this is the time to add it in.

You're through. That's my simple synopsis technique; usually I can keep this to 2 pages. When I remember it's a synopsis and not the actual book. :)

Do you have a secret formula?

Dear Editor

2012-01-24T10:34:00.003-05:00

Soooo....this week on Wordwranglers, Margie suggested that we give up our query/synopsis tips.

Mine is simple.

If you haven't written one, or even if you have, go to a published author site and check and see if they have a published query to look at. This is a super way to learn how to format one.

This is how I learned. I took a class at the college from Margot Early, superromance author. She wasn't yet published, but she had been mentored by authors who were, and she gave me that advice when I began to struggled, and I mean struggle with queries.

I actually like to queries now. I like to tighten them down to three paragraphs. Well, actually four-five with a tagline. I have done pretty well with this one, although it is a little longer than one I normally write. One mistake here, though. I should have addressed this to a specific editor.

9-2-2010

Dear Penguin Editors:

Mississippi Blues is a southern-set suspense novel—Prison Break meets Steel Magnolias.

Can a man who believes wholeheartedly in a killer’s guilt and a woman who never wavers in her belief of that same man’s innocence find a common ground?

Five years ago Trey Bouche´ found his best friend, with blood on his hands, standing over a body. Although Trey wanted to believe in his friend’s innocence, he was forced to testify in court and Jace was sent to prison for life. Now, Trey returns, determined to prove he was right. Even if it means losing the woman he still loves.

Summer Hill cannot forgive Trey or his father, The Chief of Police, for the wrongs she feels they did to her family. When her brother escapes from Angola, Summer vows to keep her brother safe, no matter the cost. Falling back in love with Trey again isn’t an option.

Now, five years later, the past begins to unravel. Reluctantly thrown together, Summer and Trey follow a twisted path that lead them to the truth—Jace didn’t kill anyone and an entire town’s ugly secret is unveiled. But more importantly, Trey and Summer rediscover the love they lost.

I have been writing for many years, and my passion is romantic suspense, often with a western or southern setting. In the last year, I have placed in or won seven contests, including The Daphne, The Lone Star and the Heart of the Rockies. In addition to Mississippi Blues, I have several other completed manuscripts.

I would very much like to send you a partial or full manuscript.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

D’Ann Linscott-Dunham
xxx Road
O-town, Colorado XXXXX
Phone #####
Horses5@Frontier.net
http://www.d-linscott-dunham.com

Love to hear any tips you have on query or synopsis writing. Tune in tomorrow to learn what tip Kristi has!

The dreaded synopsis.

2012-01-23T05:00:00.001-05:00

We’ve been doing some talking about synopses and proposals. Well, mumbling about them. Me, anyway. I finished my first manuscript sometime in the 80s—I don’t remember what year it was—and in retrospect, everything was wrong with it. (Except the title. I did like The Growing Season, and still do.) My point of view was all over the place, I had more people in the book than you could shake a stick at, my secondary characters were as important and more fun than the hero and heroine—you name it and I did it wrong. Including my synopsis, which would have put my own mother to sleep.

I don’t know how many stories I’ve finished since that one, but it’s been a lot more than the five that have been published. My writing has improved over the years, thanks to RWA and great critique partners and my own efforts. But—you knew there’d be one of those, didn’t you?—when I look at the synopsis for my latest book, One More Summer, I’m almost certain it would put my own mother to sleep. I can’t tell that it’s one bit better than the first one I ever wrote.

I understand what proposals are. You need a query letter that makes the editor sit up and take notice, the first three chapters (and the ability to back them up with the rest of the book, WRITTEN JUST AS WELL AS THE FIRST THREE), and…yes, a synopsis. But what is the difference between a great one and one that…well, just sucks?

I wish I knew.

She's Wearing What!!!

2012-01-20T06:00:00.000-05:00

This week at Word Wranglers we're talking about trends. Margie talked about trendy names and how we name our characters. I thought I'd talk about the way we dress our characters.

These days, I notice young women are wearing less and less material. Some of them carry it off with class and style. Others look like hoochie mamas. I guess some of it may be in the way they carry themselves. I've been to enough clubs (as recently as a year ago) and seen some outfits that would make their daddy's wrap them in a blanket and drag them home. One pair of girls actually bent over at the waist and shook their asses in miniskirts!

I'm not knocking miniskirts. Many moons (and pounds) ago I wore them a lot. But not once did I ever present myself as a hooker. Which brings me to how we dress our characters and make them act.

The heroine in my wip wore a dress pretty much like the black dress in the photo, to a party. And she acted like a lady. My villain did the Jennifer Lopez number, only in black, and she was depicted as a man-eater. It wasn't the dress, it was her. Her attitude, her demeanor.

I read a lot of paranormals, and the dress trend in them seem very similar. Kiss ass men wear black leather. I even used it in my last book. I just put it on my kick ass female villain.

What about you? Do current trends dictate the way your characters dress? Or is their attitude part of the costume?

By the way, twenty years ago, I would have loved to wear that black dress. But I don't think hubby would have let me out of the house.

Trending Names

2012-01-18T22:12:00.006-05:00

The other girls have talked about the trends in publishing--especially romance--so I'm going to talk about names.

You know what made the top ten list this year? Isabella and Jacob? Depending on which list you read, they both were in the top five. On one list they were both number one.I was glad to see that Edward didn't crack the top 100. I don't care how hot the glittering vampire is, I still see an old man when I think of Edward.

It's funny how a popular book or movie can inspire a generation of names. I'm sure the Dorothy's of the forties and fifties came from The Wizard of Oz. The eighties saw Luke and Laura's named after General Hospital's beloved couple.

My youngest daughter was named after Elizabeth Shue's character in Cocktail. I'd never heard of Jordan for a girl before that movie and I LOVED it. That was a naming trend in the early in Nineties--the feminization of male names for girls. My daughter grew up with Taylers, Sydneys, and more Jordans. It's a trend that continues in YA publishing to this day. Girls with boys names are stronger that other girls. Or our perception of them is. My daughter was born early and weighed under three pounds and to this day, I am sure part of her survival is due to the strong name I gave her.

Names are important--not only in life but in character. My main character wouldn't be the same kid if his name was Mark. Mark does not equal Bixby. A Mark is solid, stoic, but a little bland. (right now, really glad my cousin Mark doesn't read my blog). Bix is a blast.

So, when you go to name your characters. Think long and hard. You could be starting your own trend.

Once Upon A Time...

2012-01-18T07:00:00.001-05:00

This is my absolute favorite trend in the world of romance writing - because it's (in my humble opinion - that and a buck might buy you a cup of coffee) the only one that matters. To me, romance novels - the gory, thriller kind to the inspirational kind - offer an escape to the reader. A chance to vacate their actual life, which might be filled with carpools, boring luncheons or 9 endless hours in a thankless job, and live in someone else's shoes.

Just like the fairy tales we remember, which all begin Once Upon A Time, a romance novel is a chance to get swept away and be...whoever we feel like being for a couple of hours. Or for the five minutes of peace we get while the kids, husband, pets and phone are quiet. Once Upon A Time...and 300 or so pages later we get ...And They Lived Happily Ever After.

No matter what trends are out there - and there are plenty: vampires, inspirational, cowboys, historical, futuristic - the one trend that is always needed is the promise we offer our readers. The promise that we'll sweep them away into a world where they don't have to worry about being late to soccer practice, that their boss will notice the hard work she puts in and not just the coffee she serves, that her husband still finds her the most attractive woman in the world - even at 5 AM, without makeup and with morning breath.

So that is the one trend I try to follow in all my books - that Once Upon A Time I offered my reader a 2 hour vacation from her life...and She Lived Happily Ever After.

Trendsetting

2012-01-17T10:25:00.003-05:00

Soooo...yesterday Liz talked about trends.

What do I know about trends?

Nada.

That's right. Nothing.

I don't follow trends. I like to write romantic suspense. I've tried to leave it out a few times, and when I do, I'm always trying to find a way to put it back in. A few years ago, no one put suspense in their books. Then the trend changed and it seemed like everyone was doing RS.

Then, a couple years ago, I started hearing from agents that they didn't want any suspense. That it wasn't selling. That they couldn't give it away. The trend had changed.

The most recent fashion has been vampires. And more vampires. Ever since the Twilight series, there has been a rush to publish vamp books. This trend will pass, too.

What's next?

Angels? Truck drivers? Jockeys?

You can bet you bottom dollar that whatever the next big seller is, there will be a HUGE rush to follow.

But not by me. I'm going to keep writing suspense. Because sooner or later, that trend will come back. And I'll be ready!

Following the trend...

2012-01-16T09:22:00.004-05:00

I’ve come late to the Word Wranglers show. This means sometimes I’ll probably write about things the others have covered and I—though I’ve tried to keep up—have missed. Which brings me to what I’m thinking about here in my rocking chair on Monday morning when this blog should already be posted but hasn’t even been written yet.

There are limitations, of course, in romance as in any other genre—you’ve heard them over and over. Get the hero and heroine together fast. Avoid sports and entertainment. (Huh? Can anyone say NASCAR?) Don’t let the story be bound by issues (like world peace, not personal angst) because it needs to be about the romance first and foremost. Like I said, you know those rules, know that most of us like to bend them all out of shape if not break them outright. But it’s not the rules I’m talking about today.

It’s vampires. And steampunk. And naughty Regency. It’s cowboys and secret babies. It’s western historicals. Futuristic. Angels. Ghosts. Small town. Big city. Teenage children. No children at all.

I’m talking about trends. From what I’ve read over the years, editors and publishers say they don’t subscribe to them. They don’t last, after all. By the time the book is written, the trend is over. Write your own story, in your own voice, from your heart. This is what they say, but the books being released don't reflect that.

I remember, from having been in this business a really long time, when historicals were dead, especially western ones. When hardly anyone wrote Regency and even fewer published it. When paranormals were unusual and so was romantic suspense. When no one—okay, I—had never heard of steampunk. When there were hardly any inspirational romances and the ones that were there were so evangelical in nature, they were difficult for many of us to read. Yet now most of these things are popular. I hesitate to say “all” because the only research I’ve done is looking at titles and blurbs of new releases. How long will it stay this way?

My own reading and writing has veered—I think maybe inexorably because I don’t see myself coming back—toward women’s fiction. I’ve had two publishers in the past two years, and neither of them wants women’s fiction. I’ve loved writing for both of them, but I find myself spending time looking for publishers who want what I have to offer. I remember when I couldn’t find a small-town or rural setting romance to read, yet just the other day, I read a sort-of-wistful blog by a reader wishing there were more stories placed in cities.

I know if I wait long enough, the trends will change. Women’s fiction will find more homes and city settings will gain in popularity. However, I have to admit that it annoys me that we must follow trends at all. There are enough monthly releases that we should all be able to write what we like because readers—I think—want variety more than trends. Although I don’t care much for city settings, way-sexy-Regency, or romantic suspense, I still want them to be there for the people who do. I do, on the other hand, love girlfriends stories, older protagonists, and Americana historical and I want them to be there, too. And trends be damned.

How about you? How do you feel about trends?

Never Talk About Love Scenes When Your Dad Is In the Room!

2012-01-13T06:00:00.000-05:00

Ack! I had no idea what I would blog about today, so I went to hubby for suggestions. He thought I should blog about how difficult it is to write a love scene. Especially since I refuse to write about love scenes based on our (ahem) private moments. So I decided I would blog about why love scenes aren't usually based on reality.

1. I have never, nor have I ever wanted to make love all night long.
2. I have never felt like a volcano ready to erupt.
3. I have never felt like I was riding on the crest of a wave.
4. It never occured to me to think of my husband's kisses as "our tongues doing a dance as old as time itself."

My father walked into the room while hubby and I was having this conversation. When he heard my list of "I've nevers" he looked at hubby and said, "You and I need to have a talk. Maybe I can give you some pointers."

I almost choked on my crandberry juice. Ew! Really? Thanks, Dad, but hubby doesn't need any help. And again. Ew!

Bad Blogger

2012-01-12T17:25:00.003-05:00

My mom (to the left with me and my two sisters) is leaving tomorrow for Arizona for three months.
We decided to do our own high tea to send her off, so I got up early this morning to begin baking.

I made Strawberry Cheesecake Cookies, Tapioca pudding, Maple Butter to go along with the Maple/Butterscotch scones I baked.

I was busy. Then my sister, Deb, calls and says I have to be there by 11 because she got called into work.

I still had to get my shower and get my daughter in the shower as well. AGH.

Then Mom calls and wants me to pick up whipping cream for the Nordstrom's Soup. We decided the half and half she had in her fridge would be sufficient.

Half way through the finger sandwiches I remembered today was my day to blog. OOPS.

My apologies.

But sometimes, life gets in the way. And sometimes a tea with your soon-to-be-leaving mother is important.

This is a big trip for her. The last time she went to Arizona, my dad died on the way home. They were one day short of making it here when he had a heart-attack. The friends she's going down with are the same friends who flew to Utah to drive my dad's rig home after his death. That was almost three years ago.

While I apologize about the late post, I want to do a promo for Allrecipes.com. Seriously, this site makes me want to cook---and I am not a cook. I love the pictures and the comments. I love getting advice from people who have tried and improved the recipe. Everything I baked today was taken from their website--or modified from their website. This was the first time I ever tried scones and they turned out quite fabulous actually. So, if you haven't checked it out, you should.

And next week, I'll be back. Hopefully a little bit earlier.

New Year, New Plan...New You?

2012-01-11T07:00:00.022-05:00

So it's the start of a New Year and we all have a lot of plans and hopes and dreams and...well, it's 11 days into 2012 and very likely some of us are already falling behind. Yes, I'm talking to me right there. I'm not so off-course that I'm throwing in the towel on 2012...but I did just go over my goals list and realized...I need to get to work!

And, hey, we're all in this together so I thought I'd invite a couple of friends over to talk about one way we can all stay on track this year - with a little help from our friends!

Thank you to Kristina and the WordWranglers for allowing us to guest blog today. I’m excited to talk to you about my favorite writer’s online resource and community – Savvy Authors. I’m Melinda B. Pierce, the Membership Director for the site, and guest blogging with me is Dawn McClure, the site’s Administrative Assistant. I brought Dawn along because she is ten times wittier (aka snarkier) than me, and when I start to bore you with stats and details, she’ll bust in and breathe a little bit of life back into the article. (I can hear the collective sigh of relief.)

Dawn and I decided to take Savvy Authors on the road with guest blogs to give aspiring and published authors the opportunity to learn a little more about what the site has to offer. First and foremost, we are a community of like-minded authors from all genres who care about the craft of writing and sharing what knowledge we’ve gleaned over the years with aspiring, debut and multi-published authors alike. The site does this in a variety of ways with writing related blog articles from authors of all genres, hosting weekly live chats in our chatrooms, discussion forums filled with member contributed information and of course what we are most known for is our multitude of craft related workshops.

Snarky? Moi? J Like Mel pointed out, our workshops cover a wide range of subjects. Whether you want to learn more about police procedures, how to write a toe-curling, steamy love scene, or if you need help creating a multi-layered villain, we have a workshop that covers it. Sharon Pickrel, co-founder of Savvy Authors and workshop wrangler extraordinaire, chooses workshops that interest writers at every level. Whether you’re new to the business of writing, or a seasoned veteran, there’s always something to learn.

One of my favorite things about the site has to be the annual events. They wear me out – am I right, Mel? – but I love them. If you need a serious, swift kick in the pants to get you motivated we have EditPalooza at the beginning of the year, Boot Camp and Revision Hell (yours truly is the drill instructor) in the spring, and the Savvy Authors Summer Symposium. And in between – because there is always something going on at Savvy Authors – we have our own pitch appointments with editors and agents in a blog format. You give them a three-line pitch from the comfort of your home and skip the sitting-across-the-desk-deer-in-the-headlights-nightmare.

Are your fingers itching to click on the link yet? Good, but what Dawn and I have shared with you so far only scratches the surface. There are two levels of membership, basic and premium, and while having the basic membership will feed your writing community addiction, the premium membership will get you into our Yahoo! Loop where promotion and buzz about you, your blog and your books is welcomed with happy, supportive, and open arms. As a premium member you’ll also have access to craft workshops, the Blog Tour Wizard, Autocritter and the Cliché Finder.

Now, I’m feeling a little bit like a sales person here, and that’s not my sole purpose for all the promo. I joined Savvy Authors close to when it started two years ago, and after having been a part of a few other writing communities, I can honestly say Savvy Authors is where I have met the most supportive group of writers I’ve ever known. Through special events and joining in on discussions, I’ve made life-long writer friends and I’ve gained a critique partner or two. I really believe in the site and what it stands for - Writers Helping Writers. To quote visionary co-founder Liz Pelletier, “Our hope is we've created a web home for writers that will help navigate that crazy road to publication, and to keep those who have already traveled that road stay on track.” I have to say, mission accomplished.

And that’s really what Savvy is all about. Writing can be such a solitary endeavor, but it doesn’t have to be. You can lurk or you can play, but you’ll always feel like part of a writing community that cares.

Very true, Dawn. We welcome everyone to stop by and check us out. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

Melinda B. Pierce, Membership Director & Moderator Co-Coordinator
Melinda B. Pierce didn’t want to be an author when she grew up. In fact, she wanted to be a Solid Gold dancer, and once the show was taken off the air, she decided being the female counterpart to James Bond would do. Reality set in, as it often does when a child grows up, and after a stint as a Military Police Officer for the United States Army, she transitioned to an Intake Coordinator for a social services office, and finally after obtaining her paralegal degree, settled into being a real estate paralegal at a law firm. While each of these careers were rewarding in their own way, she still felt she was meant to do something more. So, she opened up her laptop and began writing, and some day, she’ll finish that darn manuscript. She currently resides in sunny Florida with her family.

Dawn McClure, Administrative Assistant and Newsletter Editor
A multi-published author of paranormal romance, Dawn McClure can often be found at her desk plugging away at a WIP or performing her duties as Savvy Authors Administrative Assistant and Newsletter Editor. Either way, she can rock both jobs in her PJs. She lives in BFE South Dakota with her husband and two PRE-TEEN daughters (had to caps that for emphasis).

I got Nuthin'

2012-01-10T10:16:00.003-05:00

I have absolutely nothing in my head to blog about today. Nothing.

Which is kind of funny. Usually I'm filled with ideas. I can't wait for Tuesday to spout off about something. But today my mind is blank. Plot? Nah. Characters? Um, not today. Even cowboys aren't sounding interesting today.

I could talk about research. Done that. A lot. Bleh.

Interview an author. Didn't get one done in time. Have about three I'm dying to score, though. Need to talk to the other wranglers and see if we're doing April Pubbed Author Month here on the blog....oops! I got off track there.

I could look at friends' blogs for inspiration. There are Sunday Sixes, Tuesday Teasers, Two-minute interviews and Fun Facts on Fridays. Even a novella for Christmas on another one. All great, but already taken.

There are blogs filled with writing stats. Blogs filled with resolutions.

Yesterday, a writing buddy wrote a fact-filled blog about the hymen and where it's located. Really. Good post, too.

I could talk about my new story. Nah, it's still mine and I don't want to blow it by talking about it too much.

Or maybe how I've settled on suspense as where I belong. Nope. Folks are sick to death of hearing about that...!

Maybe share my last conversation with my agent. Already squeeeed to my CPs. Until something sells, not much point in spouting off.

So, there you have it. I have a whole bunch of blogs I could look at (steal from) for ideas. I could rehash an old subject. I could let loose on my pet-peeves. Oh, I didn't mention those, did I? I'll save those for another day.

So there you have it. I got nothing.

Until next Tuesday, when hopefully I'll have a topic a hell of a lot more interesting! Don't forget to drop by and visit with Kristi tomorrow, who I'm 100% sure will have someting more than this to say!

Magic time...

2012-01-09T05:00:00.000-05:00

I’ve had such a fun week! My book, ONE MORE SUMMER, is out. The reviews are good. I’ve blogged until whatever part of my brain I use for that is mush. New to Twitter, I’ve twitted myself silly—and felt like a twit in the process—and spent way too much time on Facebook. I have—let’s see if I can even forgive myself for admitting this—Googled my name more times in the past seven days than I have in the past seven years. It has been, I’ll say again, fun. Lots of it.

And now it’s time to go back to work. To reading CPs’ chapters and to writing my own. To stop talking about the grandkids’ quilts and get busy sewing on them. An old cyber friend from Kensington Precious Gems days, Joan Reeves, wrote on her own blog this week http://slingwords.blogspot.com/about the Myth of the Muse. What she says—very well, I might add—boils down to if you sit and wait for it, it’s not going to happen.

Now, I admit, since I retired, I’ve gotten lazy about writing. I only do it when I want to. Usually. But sometimes—now being one of those—I just have to sit in the chair and create because I truly believe that old adage that admonishes you to use it or lose it.

Joan said, “Quit waiting for the Muse. If you have a great idea, then the Muse has moved on. The rest is up to you. Discipline and consistency are the cornerstones of writing success. That's where the real magic lies--in you.”

Jack Lemmon used to say, just before he stepped in front of the camera, “It’s magic time.” In a decades-long career, he always knew where the magic was. And aren’t we the lucky ones? Even though we sometimes have to dig for it, we know where it is, too.

Welcome, Laura Browning...

2012-01-07T05:00:00.000-05:00

The Word Wranglers are happy to welcome Lyrical Press author Laura Browning today. Laura has some great insites to share.

I feel sure there’s not a writer out there who would sit back with a superior smile and say with confidence, “Everything I do is perfect, and I need change nothing about my writing process or style.”

I remember once reading an article about Barbara Cartland and a writing process that had her turning out books about every two weeks, or so it seemed. There was a reason for that. She had a formula and it was one that worked. Would it still work in this day and age? I don’t know.

As a writing teacher, the process fascinates me because I encounter so many students who have no idea how to begin a writing assignment. As a journalist, the process fascinates me because deadline pressures forced me long ago to internalize almost every single part of the pre-writing that occurs between gathering information and writing a finished product.

I remember the first time I heard the terms “plotter” and “pantser” and I thought what the devil is that crap? (Well, maybe not in those exact words—I did spend a good portion of my adulthood in a newsroom after all.) Once I got the explanation – pantsers are more the stream-of-consciousness beings of the writing world, while plotters are the accountants – I had that “Aha!” moment and realized: I’m a pantser.
At least, I thought I was.

I come up with an idea, start writing and, gee, what do you know, I’m eighty, ninety pages in and it looks like I have a book.

There’s one problem with that.

Sometimes I write that much and realize I don’t have a book; I have a piece of crap with no real conflict that is headed nowhere. Those lonely files sit abandoned on my flash drive, kind of like the Island of Misfit Toys from the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Christmas Special.

Not keen on wasting time, unless it’s in the pursuit of housework avoidance, I began studying the ways of the plotter. Do you know there are writers who actually have charts and binders and posters with color-coded sticky notes? If you’re one of them, I admire you, but I also find you just a tiny bit frightening. I feel overwhelmed with paper already, so I’ve had to come up with my own sketchy version of this because I did finally become exhausted by trying to find where I’d referenced a secondary character’s eye or hair color fifty pages or so ago.

Enter the secondary story file – it contains brief notes on a character’s appearance, background and personality traits. As I introduce a character, I add a paragraph with the vital statistics in that file. In series, I’ve actually even developed family trees (Thank you Catherine Anderson for that – you saved my pantser butt.) But this file is usually no more than two pages long.

Do I see the merit in being a plotter? Very definitely. I tried it on a short story, even going so far as to create a plot summary listing each major scene. I wrote the first draft of the story in six days. Cool. So as I continue to write, I also continue to define my process. I can honestly say, I no longer consider myself a pure pantser, but even when I do make an effort to plot out a story it sometimes takes on a life of its own.

And you know—that’s okay. I look at it as characters coming to life so I’m not totally in control of how they’re going to arrive at that HEA—I just know they’re going to get there.

My newest release from Lyrical Press, Bittersweet, is a pantser product, which my very patient editor helped fine tune. I can honestly say it is probably the last story in what I call my woodpile that is purely pantser. You can check it out at Lyrical Press. You can also find me on my website at
www.laurabrowningbooks.com
my blog www.laurabrowningbooks.blogspot.com
or follow me on Facebook and Twitter (LauraBrowning4).

I’d love to hear your comments on your writing process!

The Second Best Thing

2012-01-06T06:00:00.000-05:00

Take a look at my cover. Raise your hand if you knew I would have it up here! Sorry, couldn't help myself. 2011 was a great year. But becoming published was the second best thing that happened. The first? I became a grandmother for the second time. My grandson made his way into the world in November. My granddaughter hasn't figured out that he isn't a doll yet, and has had a few jealousy issues when she sees me or hubby holding him, so we have to make sure we fuss over her too. I love being a grandparent!

There have been a lot of changes this year. Son went to college, daughter and grandbaby moved out, parents moved in. And I got dead serious about my writing. I spend hours a day in front of the keyboard. I have my good days when I'm on a role. And there are the bad days when everything I write is crap. But I've learned to accept that, and I try not to get into a tizzy over it.

That's the biggest lesson I've learned this year. Don't sweat what you can't change. The world's not going to end. At least not until 12/21/12. LOL! Just kidding.

Now on to writing the next book. I feel it calling me. And if you want to know more about Dreamers, visit my website www.shawndaltonsmith.com or go to http://www.eredsage.com/store/product992.html Hey, did you really think I wasn't going to throw that in there?

To infinity and beyond

2012-01-05T13:05:00.006-05:00

I love Buzz Lightyear--hence the title. And even though we're taking a look to the past, I find I want to look toward the horizon-

I also love this cartoon. I have it on my fridge and on my desktop--at least until something else stikes my fancy.

Oh, but since we're looking back on Word Wranglers today, I'll start there--

2011 was a pretty good year--if I go back further than the last month, which in my day-job life is always hell. Retail really sucks the holiday spirit right out of you.

But, I digress. Back to 2011.

I finished the first and second drafts of Bix!
I am thisclose to wrapping up the beta3 version right now.

I had a couple of agent nibbles and once I get Beta3 results in, I'll start querying again. I aim to make January my query month--stealing from Genn Albin --Januquery.

I had a couple of thrills--winning Auntie B's contest where I was judged by actual teen-aged readers and found worthy. Writeoncon.com's amazing online conference. That was a time-consuming blast. Finding a new beta partner and meeting other teen writers was the icing.

I'm sure there were other notable moments, but I want to look to the future. I will finish a submittable version of Bix and hopefully, gain representation. And while that's out, I'm toying with a rom-com idea for a YA loosely based on When Harry Met Sally. We'll see if that pans out but I'm having fun right now.

And isn't that what it's all about? For me, it is. Writing is my release, my entertainment, and my therapy--all rolled up in one.

Let's get rolling in the new year, because according to the Mayans, we only have eleven months left to go. Better make the most of it :)

Good? Bad? I Did What?!?

2012-01-04T07:00:00.000-05:00

So, late last week, D'Ann had the fantabulous idea that we should look back at 2011 as a group. The good, the bad...the questionable. Since most of us don't (technically) do the New Year's Resolution thing, we all jumped on the topic.

And now I realize I'm not so good at looking back, either.

Yes, I remember 2011 - I'm not that old, it was only over four days ago!! - but with just a little, teensy bit of space from it, it's harder to think about what I actually did or didn't do. As a whole, the year was good; I definitely moved forward, although I'm still waiting on that publishing contract. I think I a whole lot closer now than I was in 2010, though. I suppose, looking back, two big things happened for the year.

First, I fell in love with writing again - that's a good thing. I've always loved writing, but it got hard late in 2009 and into 2010. Not I have so much to do I can't find time to write hard..no, hard like I had to use an ice-pick to draw each word from a vein hard. But in 2011 I started a new story (one of many starts, lemme tell you!) and fell in love. It wasn't an easy story to write, but from the beginning I connected with the characters, the story...and it helped me find my voice again.

Second, I got my first R&R (revise and resubmit) request from an editor. She liked my story, even better she loved my voice, but she saw some flaws I should have seen in the telling of the store - and in the characters themselves. Those revisions were some of the hardest I've ever done, not just because they came from An Actual Editor Who Liked Me...but because they made me dig deeper into my characters and, subsequently, into my own likes, dislikes and feelings. But those revisions helped to cement my voice, I think. They definitely helped me identify and embrace my core story...and that, I think, will do me a lot of good heading in to 2012!!

What was your favorite moment/happening from 2011? And do you think 2012 will be a bright, shiney new year?

2011? Pretty Good

2012-01-03T10:07:00.003-05:00

As the sun sets on 2011, here at Wordwranglers,we're taking a look back. Most blogs are doing resolutions for the upcoming year. But it's kind of hard to do that without knowing where you've been and taking a minute to pause and reflect. Loved Liz's post yesterday.

Things I've learned. Hmmmm... I learned where I fit. I write contemporary western suspense. Every time, including on my most recent manuscript, that I go outside those lines I'm not happy. I like mystery. I like cowboys and horses. The fit is good for me.

I learned that I want to break some rules. Not grammar rules, but rules of genre writing. I found out I don't want to write Intrigue-length any more. Although I found out that's where my word count wants to stop after all these years of writing that length.

Things I'd change or do differently. Not much. I have the best circle of critique partners in the world. It took years of searching, but the fit I have with the gurls at Crit-me, several from Critters and the blend of both is just amazing. Their help has really made a change in my writing. Strengthened it immensely.

I would try to write faster again. I used to be able to write a book in a month. These days it seems to take me half a year.

I wish I had learned to laugh off contest judges who "don't get me" sooner. Sure low scores still sting. I've gotten some of the lowest scores ever on Branded, but I just don't care. I love the book. I think my agent will, too.

I'm sure there's more, but my brain is blank right now. I'd love to hear how you look back on 2011. And don't forget to drop by tomorrow to see what Kristi has to say.

The year in review...

2012-01-02T05:00:00.001-05:00

D'Ann suggested, "...what if next week we take a look back...at our highs, lows, things we learned, things we do differently..." She did this a while back, so I've had some time to think about it. 2011 was a wonderful year for me, one of the best in my memory, and I let it go with reluctance on Saturday night.

2011 was the year I retired from my day job and subsequently sold my fifth book. (ONE MORE SUMMER was released today by Carina Press, thus starting 2012 off rather nicely, too!) As far as highs go, these are pretty good ones. I have loved retirement and SUMMER is the book of my heart.

Lows? Well, there were losses. People I worked with have passed away, leaving holes in life's fabric. I've lost contact with some friends. The political climate horrifies and upsets me. I know the term "politically correct" has come to be something scorned, but I've never become a fan of downright damn rude, either. There have been terrible tragedies, more people preying on children...yeah, the lows are pretty low, too.

Things we learned...hmmm...well, I went back to school and learned I kinda like the classroom, though being the oldest kid in class gets a little old. :-) Duane and I had to learn to actually share the house. He hasn't learned to share the remote and I haven't conceded anything in the kitchen, but we're getting there. I'm learning to schedule my time, but that's a rough one. One of my retirement goals was to spend time volunteering, and I haven't done enough of that yet. I learned about the Nickel Plate Trail www.nickelplatetrail.org/ and how much I love walking as a form of exercise.

I think, in the absence of going to work every day, I do virtually everything differently. Just as I loved my job and the life I led while I was doing it, I love the life I'm leading now. My main goal, which I've said often enough I can almost see your eyes rolling, is to Have A Good Time. And I am. I am.

Happy New Year--I wish you joy.

Happy Holidays!

2011-12-24T08:28:00.002-05:00

Happy holidays, everyone, from the WordWranglers! Thank you so much for coming by throughout the year, commenting on our blogs and sharing in our journeys. We are taking the next week off to celebrate 2011, be with our families and prepare for 2012. We will be back to regular posting on January 2, 2012.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!

Nothing's Fun All the Time

2011-12-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

This week we're talking about the best and worst advice we ever got. I've gotten two good pieces of advice. The first was from my brother who told me to treat writing like my primary career. The day job is what I do on the side.

The second was from my husband. I was vegging on he couch, letting the idiot box turn my brain to mush when he said, "Don't you have something you should be doing?" When I said no, he pointed to my office and said, "Get in there and write." It was good advice. Once I get my butt in the chair, I can pull a pretty good marathon.

The worst advice. "If you're not having fun, quit." I'm glad I ignored that one. Nothing is fun all the time. If I quit something the minute it wasn't fun anymore, I'd be single, childless, jobless, and homeless.

Following the advice of hubby and my brother has made me a happier, more productive writer. And I'm grateful to both of them.

Thank you, Mr. Ray

2011-12-22T11:01:00.005-05:00

As you've already read, this week we're talking about advice--good and bad--that's helped us along the way.

The best piece of advice--bar none--came from my ninth grade journalism teacher, Mr. Ray. When I was in school, ninth grade was the final grade of junior high. And the school paper consisted of sports reports, student body elections, and columns like "Where do you see yourself in ten years?" Or "Who did????".

I was forcasting for high school--when you select the classes you'd like to take. Mr. Ray asked if I was going to sign up to take the Journalism class. I wasn't sure because I was super-super-duper shy and I couldn't imagine taking that step of bravery. That's not what I told Mr. Ray, I probably just hemmed and hawed.

Mr. Ray called my mom at home and told her that I shouldn't be allowed to give up my writing. That she should do anything to convince me to stick with it. Something like, "It would be crime if Margie were to give up writing."

So, my mom made me sign up for the journalism class. Mr. Ray called the school paper adviser and got me admitted on the paper in conjunction with taking Journalism 1 during the first semester.

Over the years, his words have been the whisper in my ear when I most get discouraged. To think this teacher, who I only had for one year, saw something in me--something that I didn't even recognize at the time--and that he believed in me before I knew there was something to believe in myself.

Mr. Ray gave me the best advice ever. Don't give up your writing or on yourself.

It Was The Best Of Times, It Was The Worst Of Times...

2011-12-21T13:08:00.000-05:00

We're talking about the best - and worst! - advice we've gotten in our writing careers on WordWranglers this week. I've had my share of both good and bad, but the best advice? Actually comes from my years as a televisions reporter - and it fits in so well with writing that I'm going to write about that today.

Be Yourself.

Early in my journalism career I tried to emulate the best - Katie Couric, Jane Pauley, the list goes on. I watched them like a hawk - from their facial expressions to their little ticks. Did they hold their hands *this* way or *that*? How did that voice inflection go again? How did they say ____? I twisted myself up, down and all around trying to be exactly like my favorite news people because I thought that was what viewers wanted. After all, they were all working for major networks while I was still in small-market news.

One of my favorite people ever, a sports anchor in the town where I worked, was a rancher Monday through Friday and a sports reporter/anchor on weekends. He was funny - very dry humor - had amazing pipes - oh, what a voice! - and a way of saying things that still makes me melt. He'd been in the business for year and years, and one night as I was fiddling with my makeup and hair and going over the story scripts he said, 'You know, all anyone really wants is for us to tell them a story. Our way.'

He'd seen what I was doing - making myself into the perfect replica of what I thought a news person should be. When what I needed to actually do was just report the news in my own way. He mentioned that I was perfectly competent in my impersonations but all that preparation and practice was keeping viewers from relating to *my telling* of the story.

I think that relates to writing, too. Nora and Jayne and Allison may be best sellers, but they are because they tell their stories their way. They don't imitate or emulate. They are what we all need to be: unique. Shakespeare and Dickens told crazy-good stories. It's okay to hope to someday be that good. The key is to realize we'll only get to that level if we are true to our inner voices, our storytelling abilities and the stories that are in our hearts, waiting to get out.

Don't give up, don't ever give up...

2011-12-19T05:00:00.000-05:00

We're talking about advice this week, either the best we ever got or the worst.

I didn't even have to think about it.

I'd gained a lot of weight in the 10 years since I stopped smoking. The 30 pounds I always attribute to giving up cigarettes was closer to 50. I fit cozily into the "obese" part of the Body Mass Index Calculator. I'd lost weight before, several times, and didn't think it would be that much of a problem. But it was. I couldn't lose an ounce. Until my sister-in-law Lynn and I started Weight Watchers the same week back in July. It is a program I can live with and like and hopefully stay slim with. As of now, I've lost 40 of the extra pounds. I still have a ways to go--eating right and exercising. The picture on today's post was taken from the Nickel Plate Trail yesterday when I was walking, a true Winter Wonderland trek! I thought when I started the program, I'd quit when it got cold. But I haven't. I'm not giving up.

I started reading romances in high school in the late 60s, and I read a blue million of them even though there were things about them I found offensive--he's 34, she's 17, come on. Then the Harlequin American line happened, and I felt the first stirrings of I’d like to do this. I bought and read them as quickly as they came out.

And then, in 1984, there was Number 73. Muriel Jensen wrote Winter's Bounty. I was well and truly caught. She wrote not only what I wanted to read but what I thought I'd like to write. Muriel wrote about 70 books for Harlequin/Silhouette, and sometime in the 90s, I sent her a fan letter, not really expecting a response. But I got one. She sent me a long letter and a copy of a magazine--I don't recall whether it was Romantic Times or RWR, but I read it cover-to-cover, over and over.

Somewhere in that letter, Muriel wrote the words, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.” I taped the letter to my desk, and the paper was yellowed and the ink faded before I sold my first book. Always Annie came out in 1999 and Muriel Jensen sent me flowers in a sunflower cup that still graces my bookshelf. I'm not all that successful as an author, nor do I expect to be, but I've also never stopped writing. I'm not giving up.

There it is, the best advice I ever got about writing. Or, for that matter, about anything else. I hope you take it.

Welcome Cathie Dunn

2011-12-17T05:00:00.002-05:00

Today, the Wranglers welcome Cathie Dunn. Cathie lives in a drafty cottage in Scotland with her husband and two naughty cats (one of which is constantly attacking her Christmas tree). She enjoys traveling, discovering new settings for her novels, reading and walking. She loves European Christmas markets, and is at her happiest strolling between the stalls with a mug of mulled wine on a snowy day. Her current work in progress is a Scottish romantic historical, set on the isle of Mull during the Scottish Wars of Independence. Find out more about Cathie on her website www.cathiedunn.com!

Hi, Cathie. Welcome to Word Wranglers and thank you for coming right in the middle of the holidays! Hopefully, you’re a bit more organized about them than I am! Let’s get started.

Where would you like to be in ten years—both writing- and life-wise?

First of all, thank you for having me here, Liz. I’ve enjoyed working my way through your questions.

I’d love to work from home full time, both as a writer and as editor at Crooked Cat publishing, a small ebook publisher I recently set up with my husband. I’m keen to spend more time writing and researching (traveling!).

A log cabin in the Scottish Highlands would provide the perfect home. I’d add a few more animals to the household, such as a couple of rescue dogs and a family of Kunekune pigs. Not sure what our current residents, kitties Bob and Tiger, would say to that, though, but I’d love it.

Do you have a favorite author who has been an unwitting mentor to you? (Louisa May Alcott was mine—I wish I could thank her.)

I gained early inspiration from devouring M.M. Kaye and Victoria Holt novels in my teens. Like you, I wish I could thank them. The stories both authors wove were full of intrigue and mystery, often showing darker sides than other writers of historical romantic fiction. I fell in love with their dark, brooding male characters. Complex and not always the friendliest, I’ve based my male leads - Rory in Highland Arms, Geoffrey in Dark Deceit - on those fine examples but it’s hard to meet the high standards set by those two formidable ladies.

Any tips on writing, things you wish you’d known and didn’t?

One thing I learnt is to read widely in your preferred genre. You can’t underestimate the influence of such novels in helping you find the right direction. Also, as my Creative Writing tutor once said, rules are there to be broken. Yes, stick to them to hone your writing, but then look at it all again with a critical eye. If something doesn’t fit it doesn’t belong.

Oh, and you need to develop a tough shell. Not everyone’s going to like your work. Accept critique, have a rant (offline!), and then move on.

What’s your favorite part of writing? And your un-favorite? (Synopses don’t count—everybody hates them.)

LOL I’m with you there! Well, my favorite part is the actual writing. I only plan a rough outline of a story and then let it flow as I go along. I get ideas for external conflict as I take my characters along a certain path, checking out historical events in those places at the time. Research is another thing I love about writing. I enjoy checking history books and biographies, spending hours once I get started.

As for dislikes, waiting for responses to submissions and later the delays in getting to point of publication. So nail bitingly frustrating, but part and parcel of the process.

Do you have a schedule or is that the same joke it is at my house?

Until recently I worked full time, so my writing/research schedule had to fit around the day job, mostly evenings and Sundays. Saturdays were kept for dreaded housework or extended pub lunches (guess which won?!). At the moment I’m at home editing and writing. I must say I’m enjoying the freedom to dive into edits, research or writing as I please. Could get used to it...

I’m a genre-jumper, both in reading and writing. Does your muse like to skip around or does she stay in one spot and behave herself?

Oh, my muse hops from genre to genre all the time! She doesn’t know the meaning of good behavior. I have written historical romance (Highland Arms) and historical fiction (Dark Deceit), both quite different in terms of style, characters and conflict. I’d also love to get into thriller writing and try my hand at fantasy. Guess I’ll be busy for a while yet.

My favorite question, the one I ask everybody—what woman, past or present, would you like to have dinner with and what would you like to talk about? Also, just for the heck of it, where would you go and what would you eat? (I know that’s four questions, but, hey, while I have you here…)

LOL ask away!

My female inspiration is Eleanor of Aquitaine. I know I’m one of many admirers as she’s become quite popular lately. We would chat about her crusades adventure (did she have that fling?) and her sons, of course. So many fascinating guys in one family, I’d just have to know everything about them. I might even squeeze in a question about Henry, her hubby, and hope she wouldn’t bite my head off.

I’d meet her at Falaise Castle, enjoying sweeping views over rolling Normandy countryside. We’d take a dinner of game with a bottle or three of Gascon wine. Perfect!

Tell us about your books, past, present, and future?

I consider myself fortunate in that I found a home for my first novel within a year of completing it. Highland Arms, a historical romantic adventure, is published through The Wild Rose Press. It tells the story of a Highland rogue, Rory, who plans another Jacobite uprising to put the Stuarts back on the throne. His intentions are jeopardized by the arrival of a Lowland lady, Catriona, whose insatiable curiosity leads her - and Rory - into trouble.

My historical novel, Dark Deceit, is due out in spring 2012. Set in the 1140s, it’s the first in The Anarchy Trilogy. It will be released through Crooked Cat publishing. Keep an eye on www.crookedcatpublishing.com for updates!

Blurb for Highland Arms:

Betrayed by her brother’s lies, Catriona MacKenzie is banished from her Edinburgh home to her godmother’s remote manor in the Highlands. While her father ponders her fate, Catriona’s insatiable curiosity leads her straight into trouble–and into the arms of a notorious Highlander.

Five years after an ill-fated Jacobite rebellion, Rory Cameron works as a smuggler to raise money for the cause–until Catriona uncovers a plot against him and exposes his activities. Now Rory is faced with a decision that could save their lives or destroy them both.

And here’s an excerpt!

Intrigued, any thought of detection forgotten, Catriona let her gaze drift over him, taking in his worn kilt and plaid. The light-brown linen shirt gaped open at the neck, revealing a soft sprinkling of hair on bronzed skin; his sleeves rolled up over strong, muscled arms. His bearings put him above the other men in status but his body proved him to be a man of the out-of-doors. To her surprise, his chin was not covered with an unkempt beard—like his companions’ shaggy faces—but only bore a hint of stubble. Here was a man who shaved regularly.

Catriona’s mind whirled as she let her gaze wander further across his ruggedly handsome features. His open face with strong cheekbones and wide-set eyes spoke of power, a forceful character. Dark blond hair, glowing in the light of the tallow candles, was tied back at the nape of his neck. Most certainly he was not a drover. But why was he sharing their whisky? He piqued her curiosity and, in the absence of any other form of entertainment in this bare inn, she found herself fascinated.
When he glanced up from his cup, their eyes met. They held for a moment that stretched like eternity. His, a vibrant green that sparkled across the smoky room, mocked her apparent interest. Caught in the act, she blushed and quickly busied herself adjusting the folds of her dress before extending her hands to the fire, thereby turning her back to the room. How obvious her scrutiny had been! Her cheeks flamed, and not just from the heat of the fire.

Highland Arms is available from The Wild Rose Press (http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=4560), Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Arms-ebook/dp/B005E03J72/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1311501456&sr=8-1) and B&N (http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/highland-arms-cathie-dunn/1104400961).

Authors Have Such An Easy Profession

2011-12-16T06:00:00.002-05:00

(J. Paulette Forshey)
Authors have such an easy profession
or
How I came to write my holiday story "33 Days Til Christmas"
Ever open your mouth and agree to do something and then hear that voice in your head mutter, "What the heck was I thinking!"
I did that in May when my publisher, Whispers Publishing, sent out an in house submission call for Christmas stories based on holiday movie classics. My hands flew to my keyboard and typed in a loud YES. Then they asked for a pitch, and I fired off "terminally ill woman helps a disillusioned angel find his Christmas Spirit again", and the story would be based on The Gift of the Magi. The Whispers CEO wrote me and said she loved the idea and couldn't wait to read the story. I was pumped, jabbing my fist and arm into the air with a resounding, yea, I did it, I nailed that rascal.
Two days later that voice was screaming in my head, "What the heck were you thinking? You write about dragons, elves, vampires! What the heck do you know about angels?" Okay, I'd seen the movie "Michael" and the ones with Christopher Walken and the funny one with George Carlin and Matt Damon. I had the pitch, the premise, the support of my publisher, a deadline of October 01, 2011 and that was it, squat, nothing, zero, zip.
By June I was getting antsy with still nothing and the calendar days disappearing one by one. When July arrived the cold sweats and sleepless nights were a constant threat. My local writers group kept throwing ideas at me and I missed each toss. Then one throw hit me square between the eyes, and I started writing, and writing, and writing. Some things I kept, some made the circular storage bin, but I kept writing.
August came and went and the word count started to climb, but not high enough to hit the minimum magic number. September arrived, I wrote and I swore if ever asked to do something like this again I'd stomp my foot and cry out no.
The last week in September came; my wonderful husband was on vacation for the week. Monday morning he took one look at his wild eyed wife (me) sitting at the kitchen table pounding away on her laptop and muttering to herself, and decided to take matters into his own hands. That fabulous man loaded up the household, put food and water within reach of his crazed spouse, and fled to higher land.
He brought the family back around five o'clock and told me to save and shut down for the night. I growled, he brought the whip out, I smiled, he developed a nervous tick at the corner of one eye, but stood his ground. With a superior tone he pointed out I'd taken off my glasses, and had my nose touching the laptop screen, with the zoom set at 200%, it was time to quit for the night. I let him lead me away, and ate the hot meal he put in front me.
Bright and early he found me sitting again at the table typing madly.
Wednesday morning I was emailing and on the phone with a fellow author begging her to edit what I was madly writing. I offered cash. She took pity on me, took the cash and said yes. I wrote then emailed, wrote some more, checked my email for her reply, fixed the problems and repeated the process. I had 18,000 words, the minimum was 20K.
Again the family fled the house; I mean took off and gave me a break from the chaos. I wrote and wrote and wrote. By Thursday my angel, my friend, and I were only sending edits back and forth. I'd finished the story at 25K plus, but something was missing, the ending didn't feel right. A quick phone call to another author friend, a lightning fast email with attachment and an hour later I had my answer. A quick rewrite, a little tweaking and it was finished!
Friday morning I sent the completed novella of over 25K to my editor, took a shower ate some hot food and wander out to where my darling hubby had a fire started. I sat, he poured wine and I swore I'd never do that again to him, my family, or myself.
Once my better half stopped laughing, he kissed me and assured me I'd do it all again tomorrow if they offered me the right carrot on a stick.
It wasn't until Monday morning that I actually read what I wrote from stem to stern. I not only liked it, the suspense in the ending brought me to tears. Now to keep my finger crossed the editor would appreciate my hard work.
My editor loved the story and so did the proof reader, hopefully it'll generate great holiday sales for my publisher and me. And that's how I came to write "33 Days Til Christmas".
Oh, and I have until May to finish my next short, a horror story, for my wonderful publisher due out July 2012. The sign is on the door "I'd turn back now if I were you. The crazy author is in the house!"

Leave a comment:Authors, writers I'd love to hear how you came up with your latest WIP. Readers I'd like to hear how you think we whip up our novels. - and your name will be thrown in the hat to win a copy of my e-book "33 Days Til Christmas" and an angel wing necklace!

33 Days Til Christmas
What's an Archangel supposed to do?
Archangel Gabriel has been given a cake-run assignment, or it would have been if his Boss, the big guy in the white robes and beard, hadn't stuck him in a powerless human meat suit. Gabriel figures The Boss did it because Gabriel's has been complaining about humans and their lack of respect to The Boss. The assignment guard a woman, Zipporah (Zippy) Campbell for the next thirty-three days, Gabriel's a good soldier and does what he's told without question. He finds his job is more difficult than he imagined, Gabriel has to watch over Zippy without falling in love with her. But when Zippy ends up in his arms, well there's only so much an angel can do.
Excerpt:
33 Days Til Christmas
Chapter One
Gabriel Archer hunched his shoulders in his bomber jacket bringing the sheepskin collar up further on his bare neck. His gloveless hands were thrust deep in its pockets. The cold air nipped at the tip of his nose, while his boots crunched the snow and ice beneath them as he made his way among the shoppers. This was his third trip up and down the crowded sidewalks. The people were thick on both sides pushing, shoving, and bumping into each other without an “excuse me” or “sorry.”
Most grumbled under their breath, some didn’t care and said one of several expletives common to the time. The masses seemed to have no thoughts on their minds other than finding that perfect gift, even if it meant maxing out their credit cards.
Yeah, they had the Christmas spirit all right.
He’d been sent here to find and protect one woman for the next thirty-three days. He hadn’t seen any sign of her yet, and day was quickly turning to night. To make matters worse, The Boss sent him here without his powers. He was to do this job as a human. Who said The Boss didn’t have a sense of humor? Many didn’t think The Boss did, when actually, He had a good one, and at times it could be labeled as twisted. One word came to mind about The Boss’s humor, platypus. Gabriel shook his head. He was still trying to figure that one out and why The Boss snorted and guffawed when the word platypus was uttered.
“Excuse me. Happy Holidays!”
The voice yanked him from his morose thoughts.
“Merry Christmas.”
The voice, clear in the crisp air, rang out over the clash of bodies and traffic. Gabriel focused on the sweet sound and zeroed in on her voice. A dark blur caught his peripheral vision amidst the colorful shoppers snatching his attention away from her for a split second.
A terrified scream yanked him back. His assignment was flying through the air…straight into the path of an oncoming car.
Gabriel vaulted a bench, hit the ground running, and didn’t think; he just dove. He was a warrior and fierce as they come.
His six foot six frame wrapped around her mere five foot seven one as he snatched her from the path of the car sliding on the ice straight for her. The throngs on the sidewalk had bumped her into its path.
Twisting his linebacker’s bulk to take the impact of the landing, he smacked the frozen ground, breaking their fall. They skittered across the slippery road, causing other pedestrians to scatter out of the way. He slid with her atop him to finally land in a heap against a pile of snow left by a plow.
Great puffs of white escaped from his mouth as his inside warmth met the frigid outside air. He’d never seen his breath before. Holiday lights danced above his head from strings on lampposts blinking their celebratory colors. Quarter-sized snowflakes drifted lazily down on his dark chestnut hair like an afterthought to splat on his nose and cheeks.
All new experiences for him.
“Wow! That was some ride.” She squirmed against him. “Hmm, sir, you can let go of me now.”
Gabriel lay on his back and dipped his chin to look at the bundle he held tight to his chest. Pansies. Big. Spring. Purple pansies, was his first thought. He’d never seen eyes that shade on a person. Her skin, almost translucent, made the dots of pink from the cold on her cheeks stand out like paint on a doll’s face. A red and green knit cap adorned hair as black and shiny as a crow’s wing, hair that swooped forward to brush and tickle his nose.
“Sir, are you okay?” said the bundle that wiggled against him, stirring things down below that shouldn’t be stirring. After all, he was an angel, and angels weren’t supposed to have stirrings.

Buy Link: www.whispershome.com and Amazon.com

Social Media Sites of
J. Paulette Forshey
FaceBook: paulette.forshey@facebook.com
Twitter@ ForsheyJ
Email: lvkkincaid7@yahoo.com
www.jpauletteforshey.com

Other book by J. Paulette Forshey
"The Tarczal Alliance" which is about my own breed of blood drinkers is the start to my Tarczal series. I just love the Tarczal guys so alpha and not looking for love, until it and the woman who rides in with it smacks them in the face.
"Chances Taken" my contemporary romance whisks you off to the Emerald Isle where asking for a ride can get you more than you expected.
The Tarczal Alliance and Chances Taken are available from www.whispershome.com
Cat and the Wizard is an adult fairy tale written in the language of traditional Celtic folklore. This book is available from smashwords

I'm working on a horror short "The Estate" due out July 2012 from Whispers Publishing. It's about magical books, an abandoned house, and a spirit looking for love. Also, hoping to have the next in the Tarczal series, The Archway, finished and out, it's a time travel romance.

When I Was A Kid

2011-12-15T06:00:00.000-05:00

Hello Everyone. Please join me in welcoming Pepper Goodrich to the blog today. Sit back, grab a candy cane, and enjoy!

Hi, Shawn. Thanks for this opportunity to blog with you.

When I was a kid, as far back as I can remember, on Christmas morning we ate breakfast before opening presents. My mother started the tradition when I was three or four because I got sick the year before from eating candy before breakfast, or at least that was the story. Because of where the Christmas tree was located, we could see it from the kitchen table. Therefore, the night before, Mum and Dad moved the table to the center of the room. This denied even a glimpse of the tree, necessary because, at least at our house, Santa didn’t wrap presents and he brought most of the gifts.

After I crawled into their bed and woke them up, my dad carried me through the living room with my head buried on his shoulder so I couldn’t peek. As I got older, he carried my younger brother and held my hand. Eyes squeezed shut, I made the trip to the kitchen—even as a teenager.

Phooey, you may say. What’s a couple of spoonfuls of cereal before opening presents? Except we traditionally had either pancakes or waffles for breakfast. Which my mother made from scratch. Pancakes. Not so bad. Waffles were the worst. You may know from experience that they take MUCH longer to cook than pancakes. And then she heated the homemade maple syrup. And brewed coffee for Dad. Who always teased us with asking for another cup when we had all finished eating. The groans from my brother and I were loud and long.

Then, that magic moment when Dad relented and said he would drink his coffee in the living room. Even then, we didn’t run. Although we did walk fast.

I think the greatest gift I received from starting Christmas this way was the delightful torture and delicious anticipation I experienced. To this day, I look forward to the smallest and biggest events. And even if something doesn’t always live up to my expectations, I have lots of fun thinking about what’s ahead.

Now, let’s shift gears. I would like to share with you my hot little Christmas story for grown-ups, written by Pepper Goodrich (my spicy side).

Can the Love Genie work his magic on a widow looking for a cuddle-buddy and a bitter divorced man in search of a hot Christmas? A lonely widow looking for a nice man to spend Christmas with and a bitter divorced man in search of hot holiday cheer meet up at the Love Genie's motel in a Victorian fantasy.

The Love Genie continues the sexual fantasies with a touch of magic in Christmas Cheer.

Irene Landin, fifty-something and widowed for two years, doesn't want to spend Christmas alone. When she comes across an ad from The Love Genie, she decides this might be a solution. Snuggling, even with a stranger, was better than being by herself. Especially in a romantic Victorian setting.
Mitch McDonald, out of town on an extended assignment, is alone after a failed marriage and bitter divorce. A friend e-mails him about the Love Genie, and he decides this is the year he can have a hot Christmas.
Between interruptions by the Genie delivering a Victorian dinner and opening well-chosen presents, Irene decides she wants more than snuggling and Mitch realizes he wants more than just hot sex. Once again, The Love Genie has worked his magic.

Author Interview: Christine Bell!

2011-12-14T07:00:00.013-05:00

Hi, everyone! We're continuing our published authors week with the fantabulous Christine Bell - who is also known as Chloe Cole. Christine's books are quirky, funny (just like her) and - of course - emotional reads. She writes for Ellora's Cave and Carina Press. On with the interview!

Did you always want to be a writer?

I always wrote, but I didn't even really know that was an option or a realjob. It was more like a hobby. I wrote funny stories for my kids, limericks and spoof-type song lyrics. My quest for publication really didn't start until Dec. of 2009, and I was 36 years old.

What really excites you about writing/publishing?

I love creating. Nothing gives me more pleasure than seeing tangible results from my labor, and to step back and kind of go, "I just wrote that. One hundred-fifty pages, and I did that." It's surreal at times. Then to have people actually want to read it, or gaspemail you to tell you how much they loved it? Crazy.

You write under two names - Christine Bell and Chloe Cole. Is it hard keeping the two separate?

Nope. It's SO necessary, I just think of it like a must-do. My Christine Bell work is SO different than my Chloe Cole stuff, sometimes I think I'm saving lives by keeping two names, lol! If a Christine Bell reader picked up Three to Tango, say, and read it expecting it to be like The Twisted Tale of Stormy Gale? That would be unfortunate. The heat levels are like night and day. Christine books are more adventure oriented, and, while there will be an open door love scene or two, they are couched in euphemisms and not too graphic. Chloe books are raw, super sexy and no holds barred. If it was all under my real name (Christine Bell), there would be unhappy people on both ends of the spectrum and it would be really confusing. I think there is a thread of humor that ties all my books together, and I know there are some readers who like all heat levels (I'm one of them) but I don't want to give some poor person an apoplexy! I can't have that on my conscience.

Your books have really funny moments - do you have to 'work' to be funny or does it come naturally?

Ack. Well, I'll say this. There is nothing more prized in my family (or my circle of friends) than funny. We'll forgive almost anything for funny. My kids are master ball-breakers, we parry back and forth with one-liners, and laugh a LOT. Getting it on paper really depends on how well I know my characters. I don't want all my heroines to be funny like me, I want them to be funny like them. So when I really get in there and dig deep, I can find the sweet spot, like their funny bone, and the humor sort of drives itself. If a heroine is clumsy or neurotic, the humor takes a more slap-stick-y bent. If she's a wounded soul, it'll be more biting as sarcasm takes over.

You have four teenage boys and a husband - how do you survive all that testosterone?

Alcohol. The hooch. Liquid courage. The hair o' the dog. Okay, not really, although I do love me some red wine on occasion. I actually don't know any better. I was a teenage girl once, and I would've sent me off to live with a crazy aunt in Nebraska if I was my mother. The melodrama was just off the charts. Boys are easier. There are more broken bones than broken hearts, and our issues are less "You don't understand me!" or "But I LOVE him!" *sob* *flounce* *slam* and more "Hey, um, could you not eat five granola bars in one sitting? Awesome." or "You know the toilet has a hole in the middle you're supposed to aim for, right? Think of it like a dart board, and that's the bull's eye." Yeah, I'll take testosterone ALL DAY.

Tell us about your new release...

Book two of my Rock Hard series, for Ellora's Cave, is out now. It's called Breaking Beau, and I have to say, it's one of my favorite books I've written so far. The heroine is funny and adorable, and the hero is just delicious.

The Blurb:
When Rex and Quinn hire a chef to come on tour with the band, Beau Trudeau finds a welcome distraction in quirky Gigi Somerville. She’s not his type at all, but she’s fun to have around, and she’s sort of growing on him.

If Gigi wants to start the business she’s worked so hard for, she needs something big to happen. When the members of Hank Lemon and the Law contact her to cook for them during their summer concert tour, she’s elated. Not only is this a dream opportunity, when she meets Beau Trudeau, she realizes she can kill two birds with one stone. He’s the perfect guy to foist her unwanted virginity upon before she has to go back to the real world and fifteen-hour work days. He’s scorching hot but, even better, he has no interest in a relationship. In fact, he’s so perfectly wrong for her, there’s no chance of her actually falling for him..

And an excerpt!
Five days later, bags packed, Gigi waited for the bus to pick her up. The butterflies that had been camping out in her belly for the last few days kicked up a huge fuss as the behemoth vehicle came around the corner, right on time.

She grabbed two bags and lugged them to the curb, leaving behind several others and a cooler in case the refrigerator wasn’t big enough for all the food she’d purchased. She was all prepped to walk in and focus one hundred percent of her energy on cooking. Maybe it would keep her mind off the fact that it was going to be her and Beau all alone for a day and a half on that bus.

Beau had been staying at his fishing cabin in the Florida Keys, so the band had decided that he would swing by and get her in Tennessee on his way north. Then, they’d meet up with the rest of the band in New York to play their first show of the tour. After that, there would be ten more shows with almost non-stop travel back down the East Coast. In spite of constantly reminding herself this was just work, she couldn’t suppress the feeling that she was embarking on a great adventure.

The door folded opened and Beau came down the steps to meet her. His hair glowed like a burnished halo over his head, but the grin was all devil. She resisted the urge to swipe a hand over her mouth to check for drool.

“Hey there, girl. Looks like you got a lot of clothes there for just two weeks. I woulda never took you for that type.”

His puzzled gaze traveled over her jeans and polo shirt and she tried not to cringe.

“Your first instinct was dead-on. I’m not exactly what you’d call a fashion plate. Most of this stuff is cookware, then some staples for the next few days. It’s heavy, so be careful,” she warned as he bent low.

He hoisted up one of the largest boxes without even a grimace. His biceps bulged and she had to look away for fear of grabbing hold of one and squeezing. This nonsense had to stop before it started. He was so far out of her league it was as if they weren’t even playing the same sport.

Her gaze returned to him just the same, and she watched as he boarded the bus. She grabbed a bag and followed. She was so taken with his rear twitching as he walked, she wasn’t watching where she was going. A terrifying, one-armed, wind-milling second later, she was sprawled out over the steps, on top of a bag that had both sounded and felt suspiciously like a carton of eggs.

“What the— Are you okay?”

She craned her neck up to see that Beau had abandoned his box and was bent over her, his face tight with concern. If she had three wishes, she would have used one in a heartbeat to have a do-over of the previous ten seconds. Her knees throbbed where they’d connected with the metal steps and her face burned in abject humiliation.

“Damn it, Gigi, answer me. Did you break something?”

“My eggs,” she muttered miserably.

“Your eggs? You mean…” His eyes went a little wide as he struggled to make sense of her words.

“No! I don’t even—no. Like, eggs. From chickens.”

He stared at her for a long second and then flashed his dimples. “Well, that’s all right then. We can get more of those at the store. Come on, let me help you up.”

She pushed herself onto her knees and winced. Beau took her elbow and guided her to her feet. Sparing a glance at her ruined shirtfront, she groaned. Judging by the carnage, she’d managed to land on the entire dozen. Gloppy whites mixed with runny yolks, saturating her top.

Beau stared at her chest intently until she cleared her throat. “Um, I gotta change.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking, from this angle it kind of looks like one of those abstract, artsy-fartsy paintings.”

She laughed in spite of her embarrassment. “If you’re nice, I’ll frame it for you.”

“I’m always nice.”

His voice had gone low and ran over her like an intimate caress. She stared up into his true-blue eyes and tried to think of a response. Jesus, he was beautiful.

He stepped back and released her arm abruptly. “Besides, usually I get panties thrown at me, so this will be an interesting change of pace.”

“I bet.”

“Come on, let me show you to the bathroom. There’s clean wash cloths under the sink. You can throw on one of my T-shirts for the time being until you get your stuff unpacked. I’m going to finish loading the bus then clean up this mess.”

“I can clean it,” she protested. She’d already caused enough trouble and it was only her first day.

“Just get washed up. You’ll have plenty to do after with unpacking all this stuff and making me a gourmet meal tonight.”

The eggs had started to coagulate and were sticking to her stomach so she nodded then followed him into a bedroom. He rifled through the drawers and tossed her a shirt. He pointed to the bathroom then headed out to get the rest of her bags.

“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, Beau.”

“It’s not your fault, girl,” he drawled, a wicked light blazing in his eyes. “Women tend to get wet when I’m around.” He stepped off the bus, but his low chuckle trailed behind him.

Okay, Kristina back. Wasn't that a great teaser to the book? And what a yummy cover! You can buy a copy here. Christine is giving away a copy of Breaking Beau to one lucky commenter so - come on! Have a question for her? A compliment? Are you desperate for something hot to read on a cold winter's night? :)

CJ Clark Visits The WordWranglers!

2011-12-13T07:00:00.001-05:00

Welcome to Wordwranglers, Cj! You and I met some time ago on a writer’s loop, and we were crit partners for a while and I had the pleasure of reading Wyoming Dreamer, your first book. So here are my questions for you.

Both Wyoming Dreamer and Marry Me Under the Mistletoe are set in the west, obviously you have a special affinity for the this part of the world. What draws you here?

My original pull came from reading westerns and western romances. A dastardly outlaw or a handsome, rugged cowboy always get my attention. More realistically, I love the mountains, the vistas, the wide open spaces and the wildlife. Consciously or unconsciously, I think westerners toil harder and I like that struggle. I also have a secret yen to own a ranch someday.

You have won awards for your poetry. Do you consider yourself a poetic fiction writer?

Not at all. When I think poetry+fiction, I think of literary works. That’s not me. I see myself as a genre writer—mainstream or romance.

You chose to self publish, rather than go the tradition route. Do you have any sage advice for those considering the same?

As you know the battle between self pubbing and going traditional still rages. For myself, at my age, I didn’t have five to ten years or more to do the rounds of editors and wait to

be “taken on”. Advice-wise: If you have the time and desire to learn the parts of a book and how they are put together, the hunt for cover art, choosing the self publishing medium for you (Lulu, CreateSpace, etc.) and managing the requirements (converting to pdf’s and covers have to be a certain size, so many pixels, etc) then do so. You’ll also need the money to buy and distribute your book(s), along with the contacts and resources to promote/market/distribute your book(s). It can be a long, slow road, so consider your choices wisely.

I absolutely love your covers. What was the process like choosing them?

In a word, tedious. Hours and hours were spent searching out stock photos on the Internet. Trying to come up with something appropriate to the title is not always easy. It is also challenging because images cannot be superimposed as you often see on covers from the big publishing houses. Also, the photo has to be purchased in order to get it without a watermark. Then you have to be sure you have the right size, right amount of pixels, etc. to download it. For Wyoming Dreamer I had to get permission from the photographer to use the image.

What was the hardest part of writing these two books? The easiest?

Although I lived in Wyoming for five years, I was in the city. My only ranch experience was one cold, snowy night, around midnight, when an acquaintance called my husband and I to help (more like witness) a calf pulling. Maybe it was my maternal side, but I think I fell in love with ranching at that moment. The hardest part of writing Wyoming Dreamer was getting all the facets of ranching correct. Easiest? Many of the elements in the heroine’s life were my past experiences. For Mistletoe, it was the setting. Never having been to Steamboat Springs, CO, I hope I didn’t botch it up too badly. Easiest?

The humorous parts.

How long does it take you to write a book, for idea to finished product?

Wyoming Dreamer was an on-again-off-again project. Collectively, it probably took about a year, year and a half. Mistletoe took a year start to finish. A lot of time is spent wading through research.

What has your journey taught you about yourself?

That I can do it. That although I’m not a big name author (yet) I can write a damn good story.

What advice would you give a beginner, just starting out?

Read what you want to write. Study the craft/elements of writing. Write, write, and write some more. Write what you want to write even if it doesn’t fit a niche. And never give up.

Where can we find your books?

Both books are available at www.Amazon.com, www.CreateSpace.com, and just recently were put into Kindle and Nook versions.

What’s next for you?

I’m working on a third novel about a young girl with dysfunctional parents that disapprove of her dating. They send her away to a catholic school, but she can’t forget her sweetheart. It turns out the school is actually a nunnery with lots of dark secrets.

She escapes only to be caught in the clutches of prostitution until the day she finds herself face to face with her sweetheart again.

I have a mystery roiling around my brain, but I have to acquaint myself with that genre before I pursue writing that book.

And I have a couple of non-fiction book ideas I’m toying with.

CJ lives in the foothills of White Horse Mountain in the Arkansas Ozarks where she has often been dubbed “The Cat Lady” because of her affinity for adopting strays. When she hasn’t got her nose in a book, she likes to take long walks, cooks, or enjoys the companionship of a Siberian Husky and German Shepherd Mix while her nine cats are sequestered in the bedrooms.

Excerpt from Marry Me Under the Mistletoe:

By the time they arrived back at the Lodge it was after 10 p.m. Candace felt very mellow in spite of only one glass of wine. After such a long spell of non-dating, tonight she felt like Cinderella. And now the ball was over, but her sexually bankrupt body didn’t know that. Her hormones were jumping all over the place with Trav’s attentiveness.

They sat in the lobby near the fireplace, Candy not wanting the night to end. It had been a fluke of fate that someone checked out earlier in the day leaving a room vacant. Candy had snatched it up the minute she’d returned from Steamboat. Now, she pondered whether to invite Travis up to her room.

She fought her thoughts for a few seconds. Was it too soon? Would he think her a hussy? Her new red nightie floating through her thoughts she decided she couldn’t waste another minute. She took his hand and stood, then led him over to the glass elevator.

“Would you like to come up to my room for a while?”

“You have a room?”

Candy wondered why he was so surprised. He was the one who’d made it possible, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that what his note earlier that day meant?

“Of course, silly.”

He looked into her eyes, gently clasped her hand in his, raised it to his mouth and kissed it. “Not tonight,” he whispered.

The thrill of his chivalrous kiss singed her fingertips while his words tinged the mounting hope she’d held. She nodded slightly. No red negligee. No seduction. Did that mean he hadn’t had a good time? Was this a one night deal? Wasn’t he interested in sex? Or was his “Not tonight” a teaser for some other night?

The Word Wranglers welcome Linda LaRoque

2011-12-12T05:00:00.003-05:00

Linda LaRoque is a Texas girl, but the first time she got on a horse, it tossed her in the road dislocating her right shoulder. Forty years passed before she got on another, but it was older, slower, and she was wiser. Plus, her students looked on and it was important to save face.

A retired teacher who loves West Texas, its flora and fauna, and its people, Linda’s stories paint pictures of life, love, and learning set against the raw landscape of ranches and rural communities in Texas and the Midwest. She is a member of RWA, her local chapter of HOTRWA, NTRWA and Texas Mountain Trail Writers.

Born in Ice

This futuristic romantic suspense story grew from a dream, one of a woman frozen in a block of ice and found by fishermen from an undersea world. She’s taken to their home and with the help of advanced medical technology, she recovers. In time she learns she must learn to fit into their social system, one different from what she’s known.

Blurb:

Pulled from an icy grave…into a world of doubt and danger.

Frozen in ice for seventy-five years, Zana Forrester suffers the agony of rebirth to learn her son is dead, and her daughter's whereabouts is unknown. The year is 2155. A man's soothing voice and gray eyes haunt her drug induced dreams. When she recovers, she meets their owner and finds her heart in danger. But, a relationship isn’t a consideration; she must find her daughter.

Brock Callahan is drawn to the beautiful woman taken aboard his salvage ship. He's determined she'll be his wife and a mother to his young daughter, but he vows not to love her. All the women he’s loved died. While Zana searches for her daughter, Brock must protect Zana from the evil that threatens.

My editor for Champagne Books has graciously given permission for me to post the Prologue and Chapter One of Born in Ice, so for 10 days I’ll be sharing another installment.

Chapter One – installment 9

Thirty minutes later the vehicle was aboard and secured to the deck
alongside their submersible. Brock jogged back up top and stopped beside
Luke. “Keep several men on the lookout for at least another hour.”

“Roger, sir.”

Hopefully the pirates had given up and turned back. Just in case,
they’d remain on alert. The results could spell disaster if outsiders, especially
Rafael and his bunch, located their secured dock.

After checking the controls, Brock left the deck and trotted toward
sick bay. Before he reached the open door, he heard Pepe grousing. “This is
stupid. I’m fine. Let me up from here.”

Digger, jaw rigid, stormed from the room. Brock held out his arms to
avoid a collision.

“If the kid doesn’t shut up,” Luke muttered, “I’m gonna pop him in
the jaw.”

Brock grinned, turned and headed back in the direction he’d come.
The kid would be fine. Brock had other issues to worry about.
~ * ~
Eight hours later, Retriever entered the heavily guarded cove near
Refuge. Powered doors, camouflaged with dense foliage, swung open. Brock
eased his boat into the well-lit passageway. The tunnel was hidden from
view. His men and a few citizens of Refuge knew of its existence. The bay
door closed, and lights lit their way, winking off behind them as they traveled
forward a half mile to reach their dock and well-sealed workshop. Located
under a rock encrusted mountain, a freight lift carried crew and cargo up into
a garage in Refuge. The grotto was the dock’s only access.

A vehicle waited to transport a now asleep Pepe to the hospital. He’d
succumbed to the pain and asked for more pain medicine.

While their docking crew secured the craft, Brock, Digger, Luke, and
Jonas used a winch to lift and move the vehicle onto the platform. With a
high pressure water hose, they knocked away the chunks of ice that had kept
the Excursion afloat. Silent, each with his own thoughts, they stood and
studied the vehicle they’d salvaged. What would they find inside?

Tune in tomorrow for installment 10. I’ll be on Julianne D.’s blog at http://harshadpassion.wordpress.com/

Please leave a comment today to be entered into a drawing for an ecopy of A Way Back, my time travel set in the 1930s oil fields of Texas. Your name will also be entered in the GRAND PRIZE drawing for my blog tour—a KINDLE. A name will be draw at the end of my tour on December 16th.

I also have a release contest going. Sign up for my newsletter by emailing me at linda@lindalaroque.com with Born in Ice in the subject line. Your name will be added to the drawing for this rhinestone frog pin. For each of my releases I try to find a piece of jewelry significant to the story. After reading Born in Ice you’ll understand why I chose this frog.

Thank you, Liz, for having me here today, and thank you readers for stopping by. Good luck in all the give-a-ways!

Happy Reading and Writing!

Linda
www.lindalaroque.com
http://www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com
http://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tinyman#!/linda.laroque
http://twitter.com/#!/LindaLaRoque

Welcome Emma Lai

2011-12-10T05:00:00.000-05:00

Hello, Emma, and welcome to Word Wranglers. We’re so glad to have you join us! Are you buried deep in the holidays right now or is it life as usual?

I’m buried deep in the holidays. I’ve been happily shopping instead of writing and can report that my Christmas gift list has been taken care of. The downside is that I still keep coming up with new ideas for more gifts, like what I have isn’t enough. Told my husband he should take my debit card away, but since he loves Christmas, he just smiled and said, “No.” So, I’m trying to exercise restraint and do more work.

Where would you like to be in ten years—both writing- and life-wise?

Ten years, huh? I don’t do long-term planning like that generally. I am in the midst of considering graduate schools for a PhD, and if I commit then hopefully in ten years, I’ll have my doctorate in political science and be teaching at a university. Alternately, my family will be traveling the world and writing about our experiences. As for my fiction career, I’d like to see my YA published by that time. I’m planning on completing the first in the series next year and shopping it to agents.

Do you have a favorite author who has been an unwitting mentor to you?

I love the worlds of Tolkien, Feist and Erikson. Their skills at crafting alternate realities and writing memorable characters are amazing. I’m nowhere near their level though.

Any tips on writing?

Layer. Layer. Layer. I don’t outline so my first pass through is to capture the essence of the plot and characters. My next pass is to smooth any issues out. Then, I send off to my critique partners. After addressing their concerns, I do another pass and add those little details, thoughts and comments that help polish the setting and characters.

What’s your favorite part of writing? And your un-favorite?

My favorite part of writing is capturing the story idea and creating the characters. I also like polishing the story. My least favorite part is waiting for responses to submissions.

Do you have a schedule?

I have a two-year old who dictates my schedule. Currently, I check email first thing in the morning. If he’s in the mood to play quietly by himself, I might get some promo time in during the morning as well. Nap time is when I get to write and edit. If I’m lucky and hubby doesn’t have any jobs scheduled for the day (he owns his own business) then I leave the house between 9 and 10 and don’t come back until after 6. Those days I get a lot done. :)

I’m a genre-jumper, both in reading and writing. Does your muse like to skip around or does she stay in one spot and behave herself?

I’m a genre-jumper through and through. I love sci-fi/fantasy and romance and can’t seem to keep the two from combining on a frequent basis. I’m also a big historical fan, so hello time-travel.

My favorite question, the one I ask everybody—what woman, past or present, would you like to have dinner with and what would you like to talk about? Also, just for the heck of it, where would you go and what would you eat? (I know that’s four questions, but, hey, since I have you here…)

I’ve been asked this question before and have always skipped it or made something up, but this time I can honestly say, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. I’ve long been a fan of hers. I love the idea that Frankenstein was written as a sort of challenge. She lived in one of my favorite time periods and places—Regency England. She was married to Percy Bysshe Shelley and ran in the same circles as Lord Byron. Needless to say, I’d just want to talk about her life and times.

I think we’d have to eat French food, preferably in Paris. Definitely wouldn’t want Italian since it might remind her of too many of the tragedies that made up her life.

Tell us about your books, past, present, and future? Also, tell us where we can get your books and where we can find you.)

I currently have seven titles available and one scheduled for release next year. (Technically there are more scheduled for release next year, but under another pen name. :))

My paranormal, time travel series, Mates of the Guardians, has two titles out: His Ship, Her Fantasy and His Hope, Her Salvation, with a third, His Capture, Her Rescue, waiting for a release date. I have five eroticas: Twice is Not Enough (Regency), Slave to Innocence (F/F set in ancient Greece), Tempting Terms (contemporary), Not Just Friends (contemporary) and Riding Rodeo (M/F/M contemporary cowboy).

Riding Rodeo is my latest release, and I’ll be giving away a copy to one person who leaves a comment. Everyone who leaves a comment will also be entered to win a $25 gift certificate to Amazon, Barnes & Noble or The Wild Rose Press, winner’s choice.

All my stories are available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Website: http://www.emmalaiwrites.com
Blog: http://emmalaiwrites.blogspot.com
Facebook: AuthorEmmaLai
Twitter: @EmmaLaiWrites

The Simple Things in Life

2011-12-09T06:00:00.000-05:00

I love the holidays. Having the whole family around, a crowded kitchen full of men and women making their favorite dishes for the holiday dinner. The loud conversations, lively debates, bad karaoke.

But my favorite holiday memory had none of those things. It was Thanksgiving Day, eons ago. My sister and her hubby took our three children to Dayton, Ohio to spend the week with my parents. Hubby and I were alone. No family, no friends. We snuggled up on the living room floor in our tiny apartment eating sub sandwiches and watching movies. When the movie was over, we stretched out and played monopoly. Hubby is a master monopoly player, so when I ran out of money, I paid rent with kisses. We talked, laughed, told corny jokes. It was the most fun I ever had.

No fuss, no mess to clean, no bad karaoke. Just hubby and I. I guess I like the simple things in life.

Christmas in Iceland

2011-12-08T15:54:00.003-05:00

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but I was a child of the Navy. And in the late sixties, when I was seven, my family was stationed in Keflavik, Iceland.

Now, from my experience the best thing about being abroad in the service during the holidays is that you get to celebrate American holidays and the tradition of your host country.

And when you're seven, Christmas in Iceland is awesome.

We had our traditional red-suited fat guy and the Icelandic people had their yule lads.

What? You've never heard of these little guys? There are thirteen of them. That's thirteen times as many santas as I was used to. Score!

The yule lads are descended from trolls. The story I heard as a child was that one came each night for nine nights before Christmas. We put a shoe in the window--mine was gold elf-toed slipper--and if we were good we were left a present--a dime, a piece of peppermint or a chocolate coin. If we were bad, our shoes were knocked out of the window.

Their names described their behavior, like Door Slammer, Meat Thief, Sausage Begger, Skyr Lover, and in our home, the dreaded Window Peeker. Window Peeker could be lurking about at any moment, looking in the windows making sure we were on our best behavior. And my mom, she drew his name like a gun to keep us in line during December. She'd always pretend not to know who was coming, saying it could be Window Peeker's night.

The only night we were sure about was Christmas Eve because that's the night Candle Begger arrived. On that night we left a candle in our shoe and in exchange, Candle Begger left presents under the tree. The Yule Lads use the candles collected on that night to light their cave for the next year.

Yeah, Christmas in Iceland was the best. Plus, we were almost guaranteed a White Christmas, which is an anomaly here in the Pacific Northwest, where we moved two years later after my dad retired.

The Perfect Gift For A Writer-to-Be

2011-12-07T07:00:00.002-05:00

I'm a child of the 80's which means I've had the dubious distinction of having several 'techie' Christmases. There was Atari Christmas - you know, the year the Atari first came out? My older brother and I fought for game time, let me tell you. Half way through Christmas morning we were both banned from the game. A few years later the first Nintendo came out and, yeah, it was under the tree, too. Another banning from a gaming system and I was in my room - where I spent most of my time as a kid - reading one book or another that came in my stocking.

I can't remember my exact age, but I was definitely a pre-teen. Probably 11ish and we were going to Kansas City to see my great-aunt. I didn't mindgoing to see an aging relative where I wouldn't be allowed to watch TV and where mostly I'd be expected to sit and be quiet. I didn't mind because I had my secret weapon in my backpack - a fresh book to read.

She kept watching my older brother and I closely over lunch and while we were cleaning up the kitchen afterward and then, just when we figured it was Sofa City Time, she grabbed her purse and our jackets and pushed us out the door to the car. No parents. No younger siblings. We had no idea where we were going but then she pulled into the largest parking lot I'd ever seen in my life. She marched us up to the door and said she was not going to be the relative who bought us uncool underwear or socks. And then said we had the run of the store - we could pick out one thing. Anything we wanted. And that was our gift from her.

Children's Palace was a rambling monstrosity of a store - not as big as the supercenters of today but ginormous to a little country girl. I wandered aisles filled with every Barbie accessory you can imagine. Puzzles, chemistry sets. Aisle upon aisle of board games. And then I saw it, the most perfect space in the store - shelves and shelves of books. And chairs to sit, cozy up in and read. I was in heaven. I must have wandered the book aisles for a half hour before I found the perfect gift, but I was certain it was too expensive so I started looking for a second choice.

My aunt found me a little while later, holding a single, skinny edition of some pre-teen drama-laden book. I wanted it, but it wasn't what I really wanted. She poked and prodded but I wouldn't tell her about my dream gift.

We got back to the house a while later and I cozied up with my new read, just to prove that really was all I wanted. When it was time to go she sent me into the guest room to retrieve our coats and there, on the bed, was the gift I'd salivated over in the store. A collection of The Chronicles of Narnia - they were paperback but came in the coolest box I'd ever seen and a red ribbon was tied around them. But I was sure they weren't for me. After all, how could she have known? I sat down on the bed and petted that box of books. I pulled one book out, looked at the cover and caressed the spine. Then repeated that action for the rest of them. I stayed there, looking at those books for a long time, knowing that I'd done the right thing because a whole set of books had to be EXPENSIVE. Long enough that she came in after me, smiled and told me the books were for me. Just me. No sharing. No hand-me-down, no scribbles in crayon because I could put these books away where only I could reach them. My hands would dog-ear the first pages. My reading would put creases in the spines.

I cried a little and hugged her so tight she couldn't breathe. I think I forgot to say thank you, but I remember hearing her say you're welcome. And I love you.

I read and re-read those books for years until the spines broke and I had to use tape to keep them together. A lot of us grew up on the Narnia books, but for me, these were the first books that made me think, 'I want to do that'. I wanted to create a world where readers could get lost in the imagery and storytelling. Where things ended happily. And I'm blessed today to do exactly that...thanks to a little gift from a great-aunt who seemed like the perfect Santa on my favorite childhood Christmas.

One Minute After Midnight

2011-12-06T09:41:00.004-05:00

When I was a kid, my parents had a dude horse business. We had a small stable in Ouray, Colorado for summer riders, and then in October, we would take the horses to Phoenix, Arizona, for the winter season at a resort.

We hauled the horses in a two-ton truck, nose to tail, ten at a time. To get to Phoenix, we had to travel over a treacherous two-lane mountain pass. I always sat by the passenger window, my mom and two sisters to my left. Dad driving, of course.

I was, and still am, terrified of heights, and the drop off to my right, inches from the highway always gave me the shakes. That part of the road seemed endless back then, and even today is about forty minutes of terror. A sheer drop-off with nothing but air between a vehicle and the bottom of the canyon.

We didn't celebrate Christmas when I was a kid. We didn't have tree. Or turkey. Or stockings. We were poor, and my parents just don't spend a lot of time worrying about holidays. For three little girls growing surrounded by a very affluent neighborhood, this was sometimes tough.

This year, for some reason I can't remember, we had to take some horses to Colorado from Arizona. My dad decided on Christmas Eve for the trip. We set out from Phoenix, hitting the Lizard Head pass late, close to Midnight.

As we neared the dreaded pass, I began to sweat, to breathe heavily. My dad can do anything, and I knew he could drive that pass in his sleep, but it still scared me. As we began to inch over the highway, I realized we were on a sheet of glassy ice.

And the truck, filled with ten heavy horses, began to slide. Toward the edge, for the cliff's edge. To certain death for my mom and dad and my two little sisters. And me, too.

Dad tapped the brakes, guided the truck away from the danger. That big truck spun sideways, my door and the racks screaming against the side of the red cliffs. The tire fell into the ditch on the safe side of the road, tipping the horses. We slid for what seemed forever.

But we stopped. Alive. Scared to death.

We all piled out on shaky legs. Praised God to be alive.

For some reason, my mom asked the time.

One minute after midnight. Christmas.

I have no writing analogy here, other than Christmas miracles occur all the time.

Merry Christmas!

My hero, me, and Holly Hobby

2011-12-05T05:00:00.000-05:00

I’m what’s known in the stitching world as a “sewist.” This term was coined because saying you’re a sewer looks like…well, you can see what it looks like. Other than writing, sewing is my very favorite productive thing to do. I make quilts, I sew for the children’s hospital, I put together Christmas things I’m not sure anyone really wants but they take because I think they know a piece of my heart comes with it. I spend way too much money in fabric stores and my stash is…oh, it’s mountainous.

It hasn’t always been so. I hated (and was terrible at) home economics, hated my mom’s treadle sewing machine, and never, ever, EVER wanted to sew anything.

Ahem. At some point in early marriage-parenthood years, a friend gave me an ancient electric sewing machine that went forwards and backwards. Sometimes. And…I don’t know, there was something about it that drew me. I began sewing, teaching myself in fits and starts.

Segue to Christmas of 1975. My daughter Kari was nearly four, and she loved Holly Hobby. No, I mean really, she LOVED her. She had Holly Hobby wallpaper, dolls, and dishes. I wanted her to have a long Holly Hobby dress, too, but couldn’t find one within the Santa budget. I did find some fabric, though. Yellow, with Holly Hobbies all over it. It was so pretty and I bought it. Cut it out wrong and bought some more.

Of course, there was never enough time to go around in those days, so I ended up on Christmas Eve, sitting at the dining room table and making the dress while Duane assembled little-boy toys and watched television. Long after the toys were assembled, I was still sewing. The machine was giving me fits. I was exhausted. Tears dribbled on the fabric.

Duane, who watches television every waking moment—I’ve always said if I had a rival in our marriage, it was a remote control—turned it off at about ten and came to sit at the table with me. “Can I help?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Coffee?”

“Oh, yes.”

I sewed and drank coffee until midnight, re-sewing where the machine skipped stitches. I gathered. Ripped out.

“Here. Open this.” Duane thrust a package at me. It was a little sewing case, the tools inside including a sharp seam-ripper. I made good use of it. Cried some more. Sewed. He sat with me.

“Why don’t you open—” he started.

“No. Thank you.” He was trying to make me feel better. I knew that.

We drank more coffee, being careful not to spill any on the fabric. I sewed, ripped out, wept.

It was after 2:00 AM when he folded the dress in tissue paper, put it in a box, and wrapped it in Holly Hobby wrapping paper. We stacked the sewing mess into a corner—we’d need the table in the morning—and went to bed, sleeping like the dead for the three or four hours until the kids woke.

The dress fit Kari. It was beautiful. I still have it. I also still have the sewing machine that was under the tree the next morning, the one my husband wanted me to open the night before, although it’s a spare machine now.

I still have Duane, too, and I have never forgotten how he sat at that table with me until the wee hours, laughing and talking and handing me tissues. That was the real present.

What the Hell is "pov"?

2011-12-02T06:00:00.001-05:00

Trust and Betrayal. That was the first novel I ever finished. It took me ten years to write. That's ten years I'll never get back. The heroine was perfect, had two perfect children and was dull as dishwater. When she wasn't being a bitch to her ex-husband. The hero was perfect to the point of being bizarre. He owned a restaurant, could cook, was artistic, gorgeous without being conceited and never lost patience with the heroine, even when she was being a bitch to him.

I thought I had written a masterpiece. I even entered it in the Golden Heart. (I'm hanging my head in shame now.)

I figured while I waited for my perfect scores, I'd submit it to a critique loop I'd discovered. Imagine my surprise to find my masterpiece was mastercrap. One critiquer said there was so many problems, she wasn't going to crit it, just comment. She said all I did was "tell." I was all about the telling. I had no idea what she was talking about. Several others made the same comment. One person said my pov was all over the place. "Pov?" I couldn't figure out what the hell "pov" was. I thought it was a word. I had several comments on my story and still didn't know what was wrong with it. I was ready to throw in the towel.

Then, here comes Sharon Cullen. She started off with, "Everyone 'told' you what was wrong with your chapter, now I'm going to 'show' you. She went through the chapter and pointed out my mistakes and explained why they were mistakes. Going to always be grateful to her for that.

I realized the story was beyond repair, so I started on something totally different. With the help of my cp's, several workshops, and interactions on-line with other writers, I was able to write a good story. It comes out in January. Now I'm on my third novel with three more waiting to be finished. I still sometimes fall into bad habits. Word repetition, passive writing, pov slips. But at least now I know it when I see it.

BTW. My Golden Heart scores were 3, 3, and 6. Couldn't believe I got a six. Maybe someone took pity on me. So there it is folks. The hell of my first finished novel.

My Pile of Books

2011-12-01T14:09:00.003-05:00

My journey to completing that first book is somewhat different from my blogmates.

I started out writing short stories--back when there was still a marginal short story market besides scifi-fantasy. And the first short story I submitted to Redbook advanced. That was back in 1984--I only know because I was a newlywed.

My rejection came a couple of months later with a handwritten note along the bottom of the form letter--This ulitmately did not seem right for us.

Seeing as it was the story of a man, a wife, and the mermaid who tries to come between them, I wasn't surprised. I think I was more surprised that it got moved up the chain. Just for the record, my mermaid story predates Splash or Ariel.

But, that handwritten note was enough to bolster my confidence. Someone thought I was good writer.

The first book I completed was a few years later and my daughter was like one, so 1988ish. It was YA romance about a journalist on the school paper. I entered that in Delacorte's yearly contest and again got a scribbled note on my rejection--While this is well-written, we don't publish romance.

My second book, Yesterday's Sins, a long--probably should be split into two books--was a mainstream novel about a woman who loses her chance to have children because of a drunk driver and exacts her brand of revenge. It includes the seduction of a younger man--pre-couger popularity. Maybe I should face that I am just ahead of my time--a plotted murder and blackmail. It's very dark without a discernible hero or heroine.

And until I met Bix, this was the story of my heart. I worked on it on and off for about ten years, but two years of solid dedication. It was with an agent for months and months. By the time I received the rejection, I had moved onto my third novel, returning again to writing for children or young adults. Since then I've finished two YA, a middle grade, and a early-reader.

Most of them are well-written and polished but have inherent plot problems that I haven't found a way to fix. For example, the early reader is about a little girl who wants to grow a dinosaur in her tummy. When she goes into surgery for an appendicitis she's sure she's going to have that dinosaur. Under anesthesia, she enters a land inspired by a Simon and Garfunkel CD that's playing in the background. She's meets a sassy swan named Cecelia, and Silvergirl who speaks backwards, visits Scarborough Fair. I even obtained permission from Paul Simon to use the images--okay, his attorneys. He probably never even read it, but a writer can dream, can't she?

The problem? After reading the first ten pages or so at a conference---and laughing or smiling in the right places--lit agent Andrea Brown told me that no publisher would publish a book about an 8yo girl who wanted to be pregnant, even if was a dinosaur. I have to admit she's right and I've never figured out a way around that. One day it may come to me and I'll rework it, but for now it's in a notebook and if anyone wants to read it, I let them.

All of the books that I've completed have gone through the critique process and are pretty polished. Over the years I've let friends and coworkers read them. Why not? They aren't doing me any good just sitting on a shelf. They may never be good enough to be published, but they're better than not ever finishing a book.

I Wrote What?!?

2011-11-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

My first completed book makes me feel a lot like Stephen Colbert in this picture. Because I really should have known better as it was going along. But I kept randomly wandering around the fictional world I'd created to tell my paranormal (because the hero and heroine jumped to a lot of correct conclusions; I've decided they were psychic) suspense (because there was a veddy bad man trying to kill them) comedy (because even my dramatic moments have odd-ball stuff in them) with some time-travel involved (because who wants *just* one time-period in a book?).

It was horrible. In oh-so-many ways. It head-hopped - and not just between the hero and heroine within a scene, but random strangers were hopping in to yak. There were plot-holes that could suck up your entire neighborhood and still have room for a few more residents. At one point the hero and heroine were about to get dead by the villain when, for some reason, they decided they'd have a picnic and talk about their options instead. And then they had sex. And then they time-traveled to just before the villain caught up to them. I could go on but then I'd really scare you. Suffice it to say, the characters were okay but other than that, there is a reason that book is on a file that may never be opened.

I started telling stories when I was a kid to entertain myself. I had, at one point, a notebook filled with my versions of classics like "The Three Musketeers" and "Moby Dick" - none of which went on for much more than a few paragraphs or maybe two complete pages. Once, in a creative writing class, I started a short story. And couldn't finish it. It was supposed to be 5 pages, I think, and I couldn't get past Page 3. What did all these started-and-stopped books have in common? I'd been writing them with my teachers or friends or whomever in mind. I hadn't just told the story for me. And with The Manuscript Which Will Not Be Shared I didn't do that. I had these two characters talking to me and I let them talk. To me. To each other. Over each other. I let them talk and I wrote down what they said and I loved every minute of it.

I've learned so much since then - proper use of POV, when to break The Rules, what stories I want to tell. But one thing I kept from that book - when the characters are talking, I let them. I try to corral them into cohesive thought as I go along, but mostly I let them go. I love that book because it taught me two very important things: 1) I could finish a manuscript. Even a terrible one. 2) I wanted to tell the stories in my head. What was your first manuscript like? Does it make you cringe to think of it?

My First Time

2011-11-29T10:56:00.003-05:00

This week on WordWranglers we're talking about our very first manuscript!

Oh, gosh.

My BFF, Kim, and I took a class at the college and I started a book. I titled it Dance the Dance. It was the only good thing about that piece of work! I knew nothinbg about POV, grammar or voice.

I, however, finished a book!

Dance was about an older woman/younger man, and the obstacles they overcame (conflict) to be together, including his mother who hated the relationship and her younger sister who was jealous of it.

I entered it in a couple of contests (yeah, I've been contesting that long), and unlike Liz yesterday, it did NOT win! Boy, did the judges rip it up. Not only did they point out every error, they hated the story. They absolutely detested the younger man. I'lll never forget that one judge told me she had a son older than my hero. Another one asked just how big were my heroine's boobs because I mentioned his attraction a couple of times!

Shawn, who picked this topic, asked if this was someting you would dig out to try to fix.

NO!

Dance the Dance is awful; I know that now.

But what Dance did for me was prove to me I can finish a manuscript--and that, my friends, is not as big of a group as one would think!

Tell me about your first manuscript? Did you finish it? Sell it? Burn it?

The Book Under the Bed

2011-11-28T05:00:00.001-05:00

I wrote The Growing Season sometime in the 1990s--I think. I've slept since then, and written many more manuscripts that have gone to their imaginary home under the bed. The Growing Season had another title to start with, but I don't remember what it was. It had somewhere around 60,000 words if I remember right, and its protagonists were named Micky and Pat. Micky was the widowed mother of four teenagers and Pat the widowed father of two. They lived in the country in central Indiana (just like me), Micky was short and a little overweight with curly brown hair (just like me), and I thought it was a wonderful story.

I was new to RWA, new to everything romance except the reading of it, and RWA in general and the Outreach chapter specifically were more help than I can begin to thank them for. I gritted my teeth and entered The Growing Season in its first contest.

It won it. I was on top of the world. I knew, without any doubt at all, that I was on my way.

The prize in the contest was a critique by members of another chapter. By the time I finished reading the individual comments, I was ready to give up writing forever. I have no idea how the manuscript won the contest, because the women of the Saskatchewan chapter hated everything about it. Including the curly-haired Hoosier heroine. In my mind, in my heart, it was me they hated.

From 15 or so years out, I can still feel the pain of those comments. The experience made me a kinder (some would say mealymouthed) judge of other people's work. It also cost me three months of productivity, because that's how long it took me to start writing again. Only after those three months was I able to sift out that those other writers--many of them much more experienced than I--were right about point of view, about the strength of secondary characters, about...many things.

It took years for me to know for sure they were wrong about some things, too. When they indicated the Rules are written in stone. When they said no one wanted to read about less-than-perfect heroines or rural people who carried around ten extra pounds.

I feel melancholy when I think of Micky and Pat, of the hopes I had for their story, of the dreamer I was then, but grateful for the things I learned. I've sold five books since then, started God knows how many, and finished...well, a lot more than five. I'll never drag most of them out again. But thank you, Micky and Pat. I'm still on my way.

My Favorite Time...

2011-11-23T14:08:00.000-05:00

...for research is when I'm stuck. Doesn't sound very smart, does it? What I mean is, I don't necessarily research the place I'm writing about, the profession, the weather, etc. before I start writing. The beginnings of stories, for me, are kind of like epiphanies. D'Ann has written here about seeing a fully-drawn scene in her head and writing it down. I'm like that. I see a character, maybe two, hear a bit of dialogue and I'm off. The more the character 'talks' the more I see - foliage, buildings, beaches. It kind of draws itself in my imagination. All because the character is talking to me.

So I let that character talk and talk and talk. Until they can't talk any more. Sometimes they stop talking because I've written them into a corner or because I need to know something they aren't telling me. In either case, from that point, the research starts. I look up websites with pictures of the place I'm writing about, research the professions of my main characters, what homes in that area are built like/from, what the decor is..you name it, I look it up. Google is my friend, although I try to look at at least three sites before making a decision on anything. I also ask my friend and CPs (Facebook and Twitter are my friends when questions come calling), but I also try to look through professional sites - journalism, investment banking, professional surfing...and, on sites like the one for pro surfers, the eye candy isn't bad, either.

From that research I may - or may not - find pictures of my main characters, people who remind me of them or look like them in some way. I make a collage of the 'best' pictures I find that evoke the feeling of that book. While I'm making the collage, I'll also make my WIP playlist. Sometimes this is fast - less than an afternoon. Sometimes it takes days and I write a little and research a little. It's a clunky process but it works for me.

How about you? What's your research process?

The Fact of the Matter

2011-11-22T10:55:00.000-05:00

This week on WordWranglers we're talking about research. How, when, where you do it.

Anyone who knows me knows I hate to do research. I live in the middle of nowhere, and the two closest libraries are tiny without much to offer. If I do need a fact checked, I tend to use Google, which I hate. Yes, hate. For one thing, who knows if the sites are accurate? Anyone with an opinion can put up a site and claim anything. So then I go to the next site, then the next. I end up spending what should have been a simple fact check into an all day time suck.

As you know, I mostly write contemporary western suspense.

If I need to know something about cows or horses, I call my dad. He's an expert. Easy.

I also tend to stay in my comfort zone. I can write a million cowboy stories. Easy.

Awhile back I started two stories that weren't cowboy stories and they lasted about two chapters. The first one is about a woman who has a child with leukemia. To share bone marrow with the older child, she wants another baby with the father, who didn't know he had a first baby. Fine. All was well until I had to start checking leukemia facts. Ugh. I spent more time on fact checking than I did writing and that went to fun to chore real quick.

The second was about an Arizona border guard and an illegal sympathizer. Do you know that there are Arizonians who go out into the desert and leave water stations for the illegals crossing into the states? Neither did I. And I didn't know a whole bunch of other stuff that made me ditch that ms.

I recently started a new manuscript about a country music star. I've listened to country music most of my life. I have gone to a million concerts. Easy, right? Not so much. I wasn't halfway into the first chapter before I hit a factoid I wasn't sure about.

Lucky for me, a few CPs and others from writing loops know the stuff I don't. No Googling for me. I made it through that crisis without having to spend hours and day on the Internet looking to see if one small fact was correct.

I think I'll stick with what I know and love, cowboys! It makes me a happier writer.

Research? Must I?

2011-11-21T05:30:00.000-05:00

Uhm…research…one of those things you love or hate. Since I am a moderate in nearly all things, it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that I straddle that love-hate fence on this subject, too.

I tend to give the heroes of my stories livelihoods I don’t know the first thing about. No, this isn’t very bright—I didn’t say I was, did I?—and this does create the necessity for research. I do this with minimal grumbling. Thank goodness for the internet. And for Google. You can find anything on there, and every site you visit is…different from the last. When this happens, I go for the best two out of three and hope very hard I don’t make any glaring errors. I give it the time it needs whenever I have to know something and I search until I find the right answer at least twice. I sigh a lot and maybe grumble a little more than minimally.
That’s the hate part.

But once upon a time I wrote a historical romance, Home to Singing Trees, that took place right here in the county where I’ve lived my entire life. I went to the library, which isn’t a hardship—I go there nearly every week. With me, I had a couple of pens, a coil-bound notebook (I don’t do those little cards, even though I like the idea of them), reading glasses, and change for the copy machine. I also allowed a couple of hours. Sigh. Grumble. Maybe whine just a wee bit.

At some point, my stomach grumbled loudly enough to wake all those dead people in the genealogy section I was perusing, so I gathered up my paraphernalia and departed for McDonald’s, visions of Big Macs dancing in my head…oh, sorry, I do have this focus problem, plus I’m hungry and forever on a diet, and Christmas is coming. Ahem. Anyway, I had lunch. And went back to the library. The only problem with researching Singing Trees was that at some point I had to stop looking things up and reading and saying, “Imagine that,” to anyone who would listen. I had to actually write. Sigh. Grumble. Mutter unintelligibly.

That’s the love part. I love learning stuff I didn’t know. I love paper and pen and the sounds, smells, and feel of libraries. Librarians are fun people who help you with whatever you need and if you’re getting silly because you’re tired (and hungry again) they can snort laughter through their noses with the best of them. When you combine history with libraries and librarians, it is the stuff this writer’s dreams are made of.

So there you are. I absolutely hate research. But thank goodness I love it even more.

2011-11-18T06:00:00.000-05:00

I've got a secret. My downstairs closet has three folders almost bursting open. Two floppy disks have five stories on them. I have four stories on a flash drive and one on my hard drive. So what's the big secret? All of them contain the same story! I have no idea which one contains the original.

Here's the deal. Once I started to learn how to write, I hated my original story so much, I was about to delete it. Hubby caught me, and backed it up in as many different ways as he could find. He thought maybe one day I would regret it. He even has a copy on his office computer. It may chafe my ass to say this, but he was right. No, I have no plans to go back and fix it. It's a mess. But I have used parts in stories I'm working on now. I even have a folder on a flash drive marked 'scrap pile.'

It's the only story I've ever finished, besides the one I have coming out in January. I've got four other stories waiting in the wings that are on a flash drive, an external hard drive, and in e-mail folders.

Do you have a scrap pile? What do you do with your old stories?

Oh, if the files could only speak

2011-11-17T12:55:00.003-05:00

I'm a hard copy gal and I have saved most everything I've ever written. I have milk crates full of files in the garage, a file cabinet at my desk, along with a file carton on top of my desk and several file trays. I love my files, I do.

I have notebooks with finished manuscripts lining a closet shelf. Floppy disks, and jump drives stashed in desk drawers. Most of my past writings bring back memories of what I was going through at the time that I wrote it and transport me back to the Margie that once was.

circa 1973--I was 11:

From: Dot and the Covered Wagons

Let me tell you about the time in 1801, when I and my family crossed the plains. I had an elder brother, James, and a younger brother, lil Jon.

That was the story that made me want to be a writer. It was the first time I realized that I could create a story. And no, I'd never read the Little House books and this was before the television series debuted. It was simply an exercise the teacher put up on the board and we chose the first sentence and went from there.

My grandmother hated the story. Mostly because she was offended that I chose her name as the heroine. "I'm not that old!" But as all writers know, any reaction is a good reaction.

As I dug this out of a file, I came across some notes and diagrams for the story. And had to chuckle, because I'm still doing diagrams to plot out my action scenes. And my chapter lengths? One-two handwritten pages. Yeah, even back then I was into short chapters.

circa 1977--I was 13

From: A World of Dreams

"My name is Kevin Kansa." I stood there and stared at him, then I heard a whistle of a dove that brought me back to my senses.

"Oh," I said. "My name is Keliegh Kontosova."

"Kontosova? What a nice name. Recon you could take me home for one meal?"

"Reckon I could," I said, smiling. He smiled back like we shared a big secret noone else could ever share.

So, I apparently I thought I lived in the rural west or something and I really liked the letter "K" because 90% of the names in this particular story begin with a K. Side note: My oldest daughter's name? Kristen.

My junior high/high school writings are filled with angst and teenage fantasy. If I couldn't get the boy of my dreams for real, I could capture him on the page.

circa 1981--age 19

From: The Death Phase

DeeDee rolled over and opened the drawer in her nightstand. Digging behind the books and general junk she felt the smoothness of iron. Glancing at the closed door, DeeDee puller father's .38 revolver out of the drawer. Running her hand over the barrel, she smiled. The coldness of iron seemed to fit her mood. She opened the cylinder. The six bright silver bullets stared back at her.

Yep, those were some dark days, my post-high school, pre-hubbie days. That story was actually written after a neighbor girl, 12, shot and killed herself. It was my way of trying to understand what could have been going on in her head.

For me, sometimes writing stories was a way of journaling. I found several vignettes told in the third person of things that actually happened or explained feelings I was actually having at that time. Things that were far too personal to actually assign to myself at the time. A lot of my early stuff were also my fantasies come to print. Not lurid fantasies, more like alternative lifelines.

Personally, I'm glad I have all these--if only to see how far I've come and how much my penmanship has improved :)

But, as a writer, these are my history. My legacy.

Things Live On My Desk...

2011-11-16T07:00:00.002-05:00

This is the desk I wish I had. A few papers in sight, but mostly free of clutter. Because a totally empty desk is a horrible terrible thing. In reality, my desk is a clutter-fixer's nightmare. It's not something I'm proud of - especially since my office is a corner of the living room - but my desk is alive. There is an ever-growing pile of bebe stuff that needs to be scrapbooked (I'm not sure why it's still growing, I swore not to feed it), a stack of magazines (some writing-related, most other interests) waiting to be read, an open bag of cough-drops and two different kinds of mints because - as we all know - cough-drops make breath yukky, more pens and pencils than I can count and two calendars because - you know - I might forget to write something down in one or the other of those things.

So, yes, my desk is a mess. However, in my defense, I know where everything is and what everything is in each of the Piles of Death. I just haven't gotten around to actually filing everything.

And so it might surprise you that I'm actually very organized when it comes to my work. I have folders upon folders - on my computer, mind you - for my non-fiction writing. Folders with article ideas, folders with finished articles, folders with contact information, folders with contracts. Folders, folders, folders. Plus, since I've had a computer crash or 12 (apparently my computers don't like the dearth of files I have), I'm a backer-upper. Those non-fiction files plus an innumerable number of files for the fiction - divided up according to publisher I'm targeting, finished MS's, in-progress WIPs, chapters needing edits, critiques I've gotten back, story ideas, lines/paragraphs/entire chapters that have been cut...you name it, I have a file. I even have files for submissions. Those files live on my hard-drive. On a flash-drive. On an external hard drive. And in cloud storage (DropBox is my friend, lemme tell you).

And yet I'm missing a few things. Two of the first novels I wrote are gone. They live on a floppy disk somewhere in my garage filing cabinets...I could pull them down if I tried hard enough (have an external floppy drive purchased several years ago with a USB cable). But I don't. I think about it from time to time, but the truth is I like to remember those books As I See Them. The imperfect pieces of perfection that only a newbie writer could produce. Filled with cliches, bad grammar (because, hey, I was getting the words down not paying attention to the order of things), huge leaps of logic, very little internal conflict and way too much external going on. I think one of them has an insane-monster-in-law *and* a bitchy-best-friend in the way of the happy couple. These aren't books I could save. Maybe the *idea* behind the book, but not the books themselves. And so I let them live on that floppy in the garage, hidden away in a filing cabinet. The more perfect versions of those MS's are still in my head and I pull them out every now and again...to remember.

What do you do with those old manuscripts?

Lost? Probably.

2011-11-15T10:55:00.000-05:00

This week on Wordwranglers, we're talking about dead manuscripts, what have you done with yours?

Mine?

In the shed.

Lost on floppies.

Some on a computer I can't open.

Yeah, all over. I have 15 dead mss. As mentioned, I have five of them printed and stored in boxes in the shed, which drives my husband crazy. What is all this junk, he roars periodically.

Like Liz said yesterday, I have several lost on floppies. I thought they were such a great storage. Not. I can't access any of them.

Last but not least, I have some on a computer I can't open. In reality, I only have about five manuscripts I can actually access easily. They are burned on a CD, safely stored right here on my desk.

I don't think much of what's lost is viable, but it's not a good feeling to not have them handy if I ever should need them.

And you? Where are your old mss stored?

Where do you keep your memories?

2011-11-14T05:00:00.000-05:00

What do you do with your writing that you decide not to use? The first chapters that never go any further. The essays no one but you would enjoy. The things you’ve sent out over and over and over again to no avail. The “under the bed” manuscripts that must never, never see the light of day.

Back in the days—yeah, I’m dating myself here. Not a problem; I am old—of typewriters and (shudder) carbon copies, you sent out the original and kept the carbons. I actually have some of these in some folders in my files. Then, along with my first computer came floppy disks. I have tons of them, but have found out they don’t really “keep” well. Now there are shiny CDs, memory sticks, and on-line storage. Plus you can print things out if you like, and file them with the carbon copies in your files.

I’m not always good about saving things. Years ago, I was writing a story meant oh-so-hopefully for Harlequin or Silhouette Romance, aiming for 55K words. It was a pretty good story until along about 50K. When my hard drive crashed and took it with it. Every single word. Being a confirmed pantser, I didn’t even have notes.

My first book-length manuscripts are probably gone. I’ve loaned out the hard copies and the diskettes are no longer viable.

I wish I’d been more careful. Because I think sometimes about The Growing Season and Sycamore Summer, those first two Godawful attempts at category romance. I think about the heroine Tolly—that would be Francesca Tolliver Carpenter; what a name!—and Ben who loved her. I think about essays I’ve written but didn’t keep. Not that they were so good, but they were who I was then, and even though the woman I am now is way different, I kind of liked the younger one, too. Old writing “stuff” is like baby pictures; you might not look at them a lot, but oh, the memories they bring forth!

So what do you do with your old stuff, the writings you never want anyone else to see? Are they filed, stored electronically, or on a special shelf in the back of your heart?

It's Gettig Cold Outside

2011-11-11T06:00:00.000-05:00

This week we're talking about how the weather effects our writing. I never get much writing done in the spring or summer months. Whenever it's pretty outside, I feel like I have to be out there enjoying the fresh air. Besides, there's too much to do in Atlanta during the spring and summer. Festivals, screen on the green, free outside concerts. The list goes on.

Winter is a perfect writing season for me. I hate to be out in the cold. I'd rather stay in where it's warm and toasty. I absolutely love to write when it snows, but that doesn't happen here much. Strange, most of my stories take place in the spring or summer. During the cold months, I can sit in front of the computer for hours, and not feel like I've missed a thing.

I also like to write when it rains.The rhythmic tap on the roof is like a form of white noise but keeps me from getting distracted. I can't write in complete silence. I find perfect silence kind of creepy. It's why I have to go the sleep with the TV on.

So here's to my favorite writing time of year. It's already started to get cold. Let the writing marathons begin.

Good Weather Vibes

2011-11-10T18:39:00.002-05:00

It's a beautiful day in the Pacific Northwest today. Bright sunshine, high clouds, and 60 degrees. People are lunching outside and I'm inside writing.

I can write in almost any kind of weather. Living in the NW, I don't really have a choice. One day it can be like today, crisp and warm and then next, raining buckets. In fact, I think next week the rain is coming.

If weather dictated my writing, I'd never get anything done. Or I'd get a lot done, depending on if rain was my writing instigator.

Today I've written over 3K, edited and moved things around--creating a Bix Beta3 version of my novel. I've also mapped out the finale challenge which has become a paintball version of Chutes and Ladders combined with Capture the Flag--thank God for graph paper and colored pens. I wonder if JK Rowling has pencil grams of key scenes in her books, say like the first Quidditch scene?

Now off to hopefully add another 1000 words or so to my NANO project. Word count right now?
7655. Still behind where I should be, but I'm okay with that. I've made the progress I wanted.

Have a great weekend. I know it's Thursday, but tomorrow's my Monday, so I'm wishing all of you the best. Happy writings.

All Rained Out?

2011-11-09T07:00:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid I was petrified of storms. I think it has (mostly) to do with being raised on the Plains of the Mid-West where thunderstorms could develop in a matter of minutes, where lightning seemed to fork down directly at you from the heavens and where tornadoes were a regular course of events. I was raised in a Victorian house, on a farm, no other people around for miles. Snow? Give it to me. Misty rain in the mornings? Loved it. A big storm? You'd find me cowering under the covers, praying for it to be over.

But as I've grown up, I've developed a certain love for those old storms. Yeah, they still give me the willies, but not more than I can handle. I even like writing when it's stormy - stormy, mind you, not just rainy. Just rainy days make me tired and woozy and...that is not conducive to good writing. When storms pop in the Great North, and since we live on a lake, the summers can be quite stormy, you'll find me with my laptop (unplugged, of course, I'm not crazy!) or iPad on my lap, curled into my favorite chair so that I can look out the window from time to time...creating what I hope are some great scenes.

I've found that storm-writing can be great for those emotional scenes - the ones where the Hero or Heroine have a lot to lose by opening up? Yep, give me a thunderstorm and I'll make myself cry.

Are you a weather writer? What kind of weather is your best ally?

A Place to Call Home

2011-11-08T12:39:00.003-05:00

A place to hang your hat.

Isn't this what everone wants?

For the last two weeks, we have been moving into a new house. It's right next door to my old place, but it has new paint, new floors, new stuff all around. It's bright and shiny and clean.

My stuff is being moved one box at a time.

It's slowly becoming familiar here. After living in one home for twenty years, it's weird to not wake up in my bedroom, use my familiar stove that the one burner doesn't work.

Odd as it sounds, I miss home.

It's kind of like that with my latest finished manuscript. I miss it. I miss my characters, their story.

I know, I have a new couple to meet. To get to know. But I long for the comfort of the last people I created.

I long for the familiar.

Coming up with new GMC, new places, new story. It's fun, it's exciting. But it's also overwhelming at times.

Sort of like moving into a new house.

Weather or not...

2011-11-07T06:16:00.003-05:00

Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

No, it’s not snowing yet. Matter of fact, the weather’s been unseasonably beautiful here in North Central Nowhere. It’s been great for my exercise program—I walk; don’t be asking me to bend and fold muscles that haven’t moved since 1989—and the colors have been even more gorgeous than usual. The sun shines most days, a happy event for me, so I should be very, very productive.

But I’m not.

Since I’ve given this business of weather-effect-on-writing some thought, I think I’m a foul-weather writer. I’ve reached this conclusion by process of elimination.

When we go on vacation to the beach, which we try to manage at least every year or two, I take my laptop, my memory sticks, and everything else I can think of to get some work done while we’re there. Since I’m a morning person and always get up before anyone else, I plan to spend my early hours of aloneness on the deck with a cup of something hot, writing. And I do some of that. I get up early. I sit alone on the deck. With a cup. And the laptop. I open it, and then—DOLPHINS! ARE THOSE DOLPHINS? LOOK, EVERYBODY, DOLPHINS!

We spend the occasional weekend at state parks, too. They’re quiet and beautiful. I take my laptop to a quiet place to create. I mean, honestly, how could one not create in this relaxing place? Oops, let me get my coffee and I’ll—WATCH HIM! IS ANYBODY WATCHING THIS KID, FOR GOODNESS SAKE? HE’S GONNA GO EYEBROWS OVER TOENAILS DOWN THOSE STAIRS ANY MINUTE!

Even though I’m retired, I count on weekends as writing time. It’s just a habit I haven’t broken. When we go away—and the weather’s always good when we travel—I get to write in motel dining areas in those early hours. I love doing this. I try and hit the room about 5:30, when the coffee’s done but no one else will be there unless there’s another writer around. She and I grin at each other, raise our cups in silent salute, and get busy. Until a man with compromised hearing comes into the room and finds the remote control for the television that’s on the wall in all motel lobbies. He changes channels, but before that, he turns it ups so that THE PEOPLE IN THE GAS STATION ACROSS THE STREET CAN HEAR EVERY WORD.

And there you have it. Bring on that frightful weather, when I’ll sit in my rocker with my lap desk, laptop, and hot chocolate and write and write and write. If it’s snowing, I’ll look out and smile and plan to watch old Christmas movies later on, when my writing muse has settled in for a nap. If it’s raining, I’ll ignore it, other than enjoying the sound of it on the roof. If it’s storming, I ignore that, too—except for a flinch now and then.

It seems that when the world outside my window is less than perfect, I’m better at creating a world in book form that is more to my liking. What about you? When are you most productive?

Welcome Cheryl St. John...

2011-11-05T06:00:00.002-04:00

Okay, allow me a little gushing time here. I've been reading Cheryl's work from the get-go, when we were both spending much of our time picking up and dropping off our housefuls of kids. I have never been disappointed in the first word she's written, and this interview is no exception. Cheryl, thanks so much for coming!

Where are you from?

I'm a Midwest girl, born in Iowa, but raised in Nebraska. I live in a big city, however, so don't ask me about cows or corn-unless it’s Cornhuskers, and then I'm all over that. Go Huskers!

Cheryl, how long have you been writing?

I've always written in one form or another. As a child I wrote stories, drew the covers, and stapled them into mini-books. My first rejection came at age fourteen when I submitted a romantic short story to Redbook Magazine. I still have the form rejection.
I wrote long hand off and on after that, occasionally typing a story on my Grandma St.John's manual typewriter. I submitted a novella length story to a magazine. Remember how the women’s magazines used to print a condensed version of a popular author’s book? What a dreamer I was! Then for years I pretty much dedicated myself to my family, and raised my four kids. I used to read only horror, mystery and mainstream novels, but I read a few by Victoria Holt and Catherine Cookson I'd received from the book club and found them appealing, yet somewhat unsatisfactory.
On a whim one day, while browsing the store shelves, I bought Lisa Gregory's The Rainbow Season and LaVyrle Spencer's Hummingbird. Imagine that out of all the books available, I chose those two classics for my first taste of romance! Needless to say, I was hooked from that day forward. I devoured everything either of those two authors ever wrote, and went on to Janelle Taylor, Jude Devereaux, Johanna Lindsey, Francine Rivers, and Kathleen Woodiwiss.
When my youngest daughter went to Kindergarten, I was lost without her. In retrospect, it was empty nest syndrome, but instead of having another baby, which many women do, I decided it was time to write the novel that would launch me to stardom.
Yeah, right. The rest of the process took a little longer. And I’m still not sure about the stardom part.

On that same order, is there any specific writer, living or dead, who made you know that's what you wanted to do?

That would have to be LaVyrle Spencer. I fell in love with romance when I discovered her books, and from then on I knew I had to be a writer.

Can you tell us how you found a publisher and/or agent?

The really ignorant way, I assure you. I was clueless, unlike the beginning writers today who have the Internet and online communities. I didn't even know any other writers to ask about the process. Looking back on my amateurish manuscript preparation, all the stories with no plot or conflict, and the volume of editors I sent the manuscripts to is a humiliating, yet laughable experience. I can't believe I did that! I wrote in a vacuum for years, reading how-to books from the library and sending stuff out to everyone in The Writer's Market. Those early books are still on a shelf in my basement, along with a few others, and rightly so.

Cheryl, you’ve written a lot of romances over a number of years. Can you share some tips on sustaining a writing career in romance?

I think for me, consistency has been the key. I know a lot of authors reinvented themselves when the market got tough. Some are doing well in new genres, but others aren’t having much success. There was never anything I wanted to write as much as I wanted to write American West, so I stayed with it. Even when Harlequin Historicals looked like it might take a dive and the publisher asked if we wanted our scheduled books back, some authors took theirs back, but I gave them mine, in a let-the-chips-fall-where-they-may sort of way. And now westerns are once again thriving, with writers like Linda Lael Miller, Margaret Brownley and Jill Marie Landis right in there on top again.
I’ve stuck with an era I really love, and I’ve written characters who could be someone we all know. I think readers can identify with the down-to-earth story people and their struggles for love and happiness.

What do you enjoy most about the writing process and what do you find the most challenging aspect of the writing process?

I absolutely love the creative process. Brainstorming with my writing partners is an amazing experience. No suggestion is too crazy. I jot down all the ideas as fast as I can. And then I let it all simmer in my head for a couple of days. Before long I get out my character grids and plot grid, several different colored pens, my name books, and I sit on a comfy sofa in a quiet house and come up with a story.
Sometimes I watch a few movies for inspiration. I always have a steaming cup of tea. This process takes a day or two, and once I’ve filled out my paperwork, I take it to the PC and write a synopsis. This part of the process never fails to get me excited.
The most challenging aspect is staying on target with a deadline, while life is happening all around me. It takes a lot of self-discipline to be a writer.

So what are some of Cheryl St.John’s favorite things to do when you aren’t writing away the day?

I enjoy hanging out with my family. My grandkids are great, and we have so much fun together. I collect recipes and love to bake. Ever so rarely, I lose myself in a movie marathon and either Netflix to my heart’s content or get out all my favorites and watch them right in a row. Occasionally I go to a matinee all by myself, and once in a while I sneak off to the antique mall.

Western historical romances are unique to the American experience. Any lessons modern Americans should learn from those who tamed the Old West?A spirit of independence and hard work created this nation in which we live. Good things are worth working for—and sometimes waiting for. As Americans, family is the backbone of everything we stand for. We all want to make better lives for ourselves and our children, and we need to learn from past mistakes and past successes to make that happen. So stand tall and don’t squat with your spurs on.

What’s a typical writing day like?

It’s changed over the years as my life has changed. I went from dropping off kids at school to having an empty nest, to dropping off one child—my grandson. Right now I don’t have any kid duties, so I get up, make a fresh pot of tea—chai is my preference—and read through my email, take care of the things that are pressing that day, and then open my Word file.
I read over what I wrote the day before, edit a little as I go, and then continue forward.
Many nights after supper and my favorite evening shows, like American Idol and Bones, I go back to my desk and work. If my brain is too tired to write much past 11 or 12, I do promo work and blog.
I teach several online classes each year, so sometimes I’m up until 2 or 3 preparing lessons. Bookmark my workshop: http://cheryl-stjohn-workshop.blogspot.com/

What's on your TBR pile?

A mountain! Pictures from an Expedition, Diane Smith, A Texas Christmas, Linda Broday, et all, Captive Trail, Susan Page Davis, We Who Worship, Cheryl Salem, Failing Forward, John C. Maxwell, A River to Cross, Yvonne Harris, A Bride in the Bargain, Deeanne Gist, Leota’s Garden, Francine Rivers to list the pile in front.

What’s new for you?

My October release is a Christmas anthology, Snowflakes and Stetsons. In April, I kick off a Love Inspired continuity about three Irish sisters coming to America in 1850 with The Wedding Journey.

What's your favorite thing about yourself? Your least favorite?

The least favorite is the easiest. I’m easily distracted. I start a task in one room and before I know it I’m in another room and have forgotten what I started out to do. I have lists and a planner to keep me on track with writing, and I need the same checklists and deadlines for other things, as well.
I thought the favorite thing would be tough, but it didn’t take me long to think of something. I think it would be that I’m a positive and optimistic person. I don’t get bogged down with what I can’t do, but focus on the possibilities. Every day is a do over. I encourage myself and believe for the best. And I enjoy being able to encourage others.

Visit me on the web:

http://www.cherylstjohn.net/

And check out my blog:

http://cherylstjohn.blogspot.com/

The Writing Chaos

2011-11-04T06:00:00.000-04:00

This month, I had to sit down and get my writing life organized. I was slipping into a web of chaos. Usually, chaos is something that I can handle, but this a whole new can of worms. I was trying to juggle writing, promotion ideas, and day job roles. It wasn't working. I was always exhausted, and in the end, not accomplishing much. Hubby has become my lifeline. He's helping me keep track of upcoming promotional obligations. Hubby also did my book trailer and banner for a promotional website blog in January.

During the week, all I do is write. Weekends is for setting up promotions. Don't plan on promoting ad nauseum, just enough to be seen.(Hopefully). I now have office hours. Time when no one is allowed to disturb me. Hubby has become security in that department.

Funny, but my upcoming release has made me stick to a routine. I really have to look at this as a business. I've noticed that since adopting a routine I have extra time that I didn't have when I was letting the chaos rule. I guess being organized really does have its perks. It also helps to have hubby in my corner, and for that, I am truly grateful.

Cut Loose

2011-11-03T00:52:00.005-04:00

Tuesday afternoon, my sister, mom, and I went to the Footloose remake. Just for the record, I resisted this at first. There are some movies that just don't need to be remade. Footloose is one of those. Or so I thought. And then I saw it.

To start off, I just want to confess, I loved the new Footloose. I think it might be one of the best remakes I've seen in a long time. Seeing as Parent Trap is another one, I'm totally crediting Dennis Quaid. Let's admit it, he makes a way hotter father-figure than John Lithgow.

But that wasn't the only improvement. Yes. Improvement.

That's why the remake worked. It took a great story, tweaked it, and improved it.

In the new version, the car wreck that shocks the population of Bomont is shown at the beginning so the viewer feels the horror and devastation of the small town. Ren's uncle is supportive and almost encouraging of Ren. And Ren's mother died after a luekemia battle which gives Ren substance and a connective thread to the Reverend who lost his son.

These changes while minor on the surface--most of the key scenes remained; Willard still can't dance and learns to a new version of Let's Hear It For the Boy, sneaking out of town to dance at a country bar that doesn't seem to card obvious minors, and Ren quoting the Bible at a town council meeting--were just what the script doctor ordered.

I've been going through beta comments on my novel and reworking the things that didn't pan out and rewriting scenes--particularly those close to the end. I've come to realize that I just had to cut loose and look at it with new eyes. And I'm hoping those edits--deleting a Challenge scene, adding a new scene, cutting back a character, and plumping up the end reveal--will take a good story and turn it into a great story. A sale-able story.

Nano count: 1870: two days, not enough but on my way.

Waaaay Scarier than Ghosts & Demons

2011-10-31T10:14:00.002-04:00

Ghosts don't scare me. Of course, that's easy to say in broad daylight, isn't it? Honestly, ghosts fascinate me, and I'd love the chance to encounter the real thing. I'm currently writing a haunted paranormal. Meeting a ghost would just be smart research!

But I'll tell you what does scare the pants off me - the thought of anyone not liking my books. When an accountant presents a report, it is nothing more than facts and numbers. But when I present my work to the world, it is intensely personal. My thoughts, my personality, my imagination are strung across every single page. Basically it's my mind, parading naked in front of the world. As I sit here, waiting for reviews to roll in on my latest release (and they've all been good so far!), I am white knuckling the chair.

The scariest part is the fear of letting down a reader. Someone who's not only plunked down their hard-earned cash, but carved out an all-too-rare pocket of free time to spend engrossed in my words. Said reader is looking for entertainment, for an escape, and I darn well better provide it to them! That onus hangs over my head every time I sit down at the keybaord. For as much as I write for my enjoyment (and a paycheck), I must never lose sight of the ultimate satisfaction of my readers.

For the record, I am scared of demons. I'm curious, but not stupid!

I'm a writer with another job on the side

2011-10-28T06:00:00.001-04:00

This week I had an inspiring conversation with my brother. He went on and on about how proud of me he was that I was pursuing my dream as a writer. I spent time complaining about my day job. Then he said something that stunned me. He said "Remember, you're a writer with a side job as a nurse. Don't let your side job ruin your day." I never looked at it that way. I always thought I was a nurse that wrote on the side.

Don't get me wrong. I don't hate being a nurse, but I'm not passionate about it. I love writing, but I don't give it half the time or effort I give my nursing career. Nursing helps pay the bills, but it doesn't make me happy. Adding words to the page, helping my h/h reach their HEA, that makes me happy. So why do I treat it like it's not as important as my day job?

Ever since that conversation, I've been writing like a mad woman. I've hit a few snags here and there. In one scene, a serial killer made an appearance. Weird, huh? It'll probably get cut, but for right now, it works. But I'm allowed to be a little strange. After all, I'm a writer.

Writing Places

2011-10-27T11:30:00.003-04:00

I'm not one of those writers that writes well at home. I get too distracted by the dust bunnies--killer or not--the yard that needs to be mowed, and the flowers that need to be put to bed.

As many loyal readers may have realized, my favorite place is my local B&N Cafe where the baristas know my order and call me by name.

A number of years ago, I loved the airport. I live just over the river and down a couple of roads from Portland International Airport (PDX)--see Mt. Hood in the distance?

Tuesday morning I took my daughter to the airport at 4 a.m. We had a quick coffee, croissant, and maple bar at the Beaverton Bakery and then she was ready to head to her gate.

I hate what the terrorists have done to our airport experience. Its bad enough that I can't stay with my daughter until she boards, but I can't watch her plane taxi off and take to the air.

I used to come to the airport to write. I loved the hubbub around me--excited faces of those leaving for vacation, the wearied relief of those returning home and the at-the-gate reunions. And after bidding Kristen adieu, I took a table in the almost vacant food court.

Pre 9-11, the food court tables overlooked the tarmac and a window seat was actually a window seat. I could watch the planes arrive and depart, running parallel with the Columbia River until the wings engaged and they took flight.

I imagined exotic locations, feeling alive with hope, wonder, and possibility.

Now, post 9-11, a window seat in the food courts looks over a breezway that borders the tarmac. And vaguely through the well-lit hall and low clouds--I am in Portland, after all--I can see the spector of a plane.

And you know what, it's just not the same.

Are You Watching?

2011-10-26T07:00:00.002-04:00

I'm a people watcher. Have been all my life. I like finding little quirks in people that maybe they don't realize they have. For a long time I just watched (I know, makes me sound like a stalker. I'm not) and filed the information away. Had no idea why.

And then I realized I was a writer. Not just a non-fiction journalist, but a real writer. All these character bumps and weird habits I'd filed away? Yep, in my subconscious, fictional characters were forming with these same habits. Now that I know what my brain was doing all along, I'm a little more descriptive in my people watching. I usually have a notebook handy and if something at the mall or a harvest festival or whatever catches my attention, I'll jot down a few notes. Not just 'lady picking nailpolish' but 'lady in a red dress, county fair, desperate for attention, looks bored but very aware'. To anyone else, my notes probably read like an investigator's report. And that's fine with me. I'll know how to use Ms. Red Dress one of these days.

In the meantime, thought I'd share poem with y'all, shared with me by a new writing friend....all about people watching.

The Thief

by Nance Hill

Beyond your perception, I'm full of deception;

from you, I will loot, filch and forage,

I'll approach with a smile, and steal all the while;

The stash goes in notebooks for storage.

I'll pilfer your grin, or the last place you've been,

or your habit of slapping your knees,

the puns that you sprinkle, your lips as they crinkle;

Whatever I fancy, I'll seize.

Perhaps I'll abscond with a faux pas you've spawned,

or a client you met on the job,

your wild-patterned tie, the half-tear in your eye;

With a swipe of the pen, I will rob.

Then I'll gather my plunder and rend it asunder,

revise 'til there's only a hint.

You won't know what I've taken until you're quite shaken

to see that I fenced it in print.

The Mesa

2011-10-25T11:28:00.003-04:00

My daughter Brandi and I love Grand Mesa more than any other place. It's filled with lakes, streams, plenty of riding trails that wind through pines and aspens. We go as often as we can. Not a far drive, about 45 minutes, it is still hard to get away as often as we'd like. If it were up to us we'd go every day.

This pic is from our last trip up there, about two weeks ago. It's not likely we will visit again this year. Snow clouds are hovering today, and will probably unleash on the mountains.

Still, I'm dying to go today. Itching to go take pictures, look for that elusive moose we've been searching for all summer.

But there's too much to do around here to justify one last trip up to the Mesa. We need to clean and sort tack. We're remodeling our house, so that takes precedence over a trip.

It's the same way with Branded.

It's done. Well...the first draft is done. Now comes the part I hate, the rewriting and revising. Ugh. Some people love this part, I hate it. I want to go the Mesa instead.

I'm dying to move onto the next thing. I have a new story itching to be written, and like the Mesa, it's calling me like a siren.

But I should do the right thing, stay home and work. Do the rewrites first, then move on to the new one.

Right?

Or, could I sneak in a few sentences on the new project? Or maybe go the Mesa?

If Only I Could Write Like....

2011-10-23T21:49:00.005-04:00

There are lots of good books. There are many great books. There are books you race through because they're fun. Then there are the books that inspire you to be a better writer, while at the same time bringing you to the depths of despair, sure you'll never write that beautifully.

The first time that sensation hit me was when I finished reading the Harry Potter series. Recently, it happened to me after reading a Black Dagger Brotherhood novel by J.R. Ward. I began reading this series in August, and I'm already through book #7. And with each and every one, I'm struck multiple times throughout the book as to how brilliant Ms. Ward is. The depth of her characterizations, the plotting - sometimes just a sentence that then bursts into clarity three books later - is astounding. It literally takes my breath away. Each one is so intricately crafted, it is like a master class in writing. Sooo motivating.

And yet so depressing. I'm in the middle of plotting a paranormal right now. Pretty proud of myself for the plot, for weaving a trilogy....at least I was until I finished Lover Enshrined last weekend. I caught a crushing case of why should I even try because I'll never be as good as her. Followed by an absolute certainty that my previously brilliant plot was about as solid as a cobweb.

I've picked myself up over the past few days. Reminded myself I've sold three books, am working on selling #4, and am deep in writing #5. Obviously I do indeed know how to write (I keep repeating that phrase like a mantra). So I shall learn from Ms. Ward as much as possible, and keep striving to be a better writer. But Lover Avenged is on my coffeetable right now, so I'm pretty sure my tongue will be rolling out of my mouth in shock and awe again very soon.

Do you have any authors that knock you onto the seat of your pants?

Bust A Move!

2011-10-21T17:00:00.003-04:00

When I was in High school,I couldn't dance. I got better after I joined the military. I was stationed in the Korea and frankly, after work hours, there was nothing better to do than go to the clubs and dance the night away. Dancing became my fovortie past time, even after my military years were over. Nowadays, I don't dance much anymore. I don't even know if I can. I guess just like anything else, if you don't use it, you lose it.

Writing is like my experience with dance. When I started, I didn't know what I was doing. It took, patience, practice, and cp's who aren't afraid to tell me when I'm doing something that doesn't work.

Now I make sure I write something every day. I never want to lose what I've learned.

As far as dancing goes,maybe I'll get back to it someday. Who knows? Maybe I can still bust a move!

Why I write

2011-10-20T13:16:00.007-04:00

Where else can you be the person of your dreams doing the job of your dreams and having it all wrap up happily ever after--or at least a good attempt at it.

Besides being a NYT best-selling author with big buck advances, my dream job is--or my dream jobs are:

A spy. At least someone in intelligence. Or someone of intelligence. I want to be trusted with national secrets---although there's a really good reason why I'm not. I want to be kick-ass, quick-thinking, and speak a variety of languages like Sydney Bristow.

An archeologist. The thought of finding something rare and unique really appeals to me. However, the sand in my hair and the sun beating down on my back, not so much.

A travel reporter, ala Samantha Brown on the Travel Channel. I love the places she goes, the people she meets, the off-the-beaten path places she finds.

Treasure hunter--except for the part where they mostly are deep-sea divers and I'm afraid of water and can barely swim. Do treasure hunters like Nic Cage really exist, because I could do that. In my dreams.

And these are some of the reasons I write. To become the person in my dreams, at least for the duration of a book.

What's your dream job???

Doing The Hard Work

2011-10-19T09:37:00.001-04:00

It's getting colder in our area, no surprise since we're half-way through October. But with all the rain we've gotten - yes, we are blessed to NOT be in drought mode - it's felt colder than it really has been. So when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds yesterday I had to take advantage.

And take all my flowers out of our flowerbeds. My least favorite chore because it takes the garden from pretty to ugly in a heartbeat. All that churned up dirt? Blech. Even though it takes about 1/10 the time to take them out as to put them in, it's a chore I dread each year. This year, though, bebe wanted to ~~be under foot~~ help and I thought, "Well, it might be fun." Plus it would be a good teaching moment - she's planted with me basically since birth, but un-planting? Never.

Yeah, my brilliant idea lasted about 2 minutes, at which point she declared un-planting to be boring (in bebe-speak, 'this isn't fun like when we plant') and started wandering the yard. Piling up some leaves and jumping in and asking me if we were almost done. I finally distracted her with bubbles and a rake - don't ask, but our leaves are shiny and clean this morning.

What does this have to do with writing? Writing - actually revising - can be the same way. When I'm putting a story on paper for the first time, I love it. It may be clunky in places and it may take longer than I think (like planting) but I'm envisioning the book finished and polished and tumbling over my flowerbeds like my impatiens and roses. Doing the work to make it pretty and beautiful (I.E. revising - weeding the beds, cleaning them out, adding topsoil) isn't so fun. It can be downright painful, just like pulling our flowers out was painful for bebe.

But the reward? Priceless. My flowerbeds are dull and boring this morning. Over the weekend we'll put down mulch and plant some tulip bulbs for spring...and in about 6 months, I'll have a pretty garden again. Just like, when I finish the WIP, I'll have a shiney new book that makes me smile.

Is there a painful part of writing to you?

Get Tough

2011-10-18T11:22:00.005-04:00

I've been riding this same old mare for twenty years. Lovely Fawn. Well, that's a post for Ridingwrite.

Ahem

Riding one horse for twenty years.

The same amount of time I've been writing, trying to sell.

Yeah, really.

I can't believe it myself.

Twenty.

My daughter was five, just starting Kindergarten when I began. She's a Junior in college now.

I began after I went to a non-credit class at the same college she's now attending. Wow.

But, really, this post isn't about how old I am. Old! Ha!

I read a rant by an author on another blog the other day, railing against agents and editors. I won't go into all the details, but she was ugly, including flipping off the camera. You can read it for yourself here:

http://www.justbreathenovel.com/?p=2529

Don't get me wrong. I get mad, discouraged and very frustrated by this business. Who doesn't? I rail sometimes. But I do it in private or to very close, trusted friends and CPs. I bet NYT best sellers get tired and discouraged at times. I know they do. A friend quit last year after a particularly hard year.

But I haven't quit.

I had a hard time early on. My grammar was so bad a mentor told me I should go back to the eighth grade to re-learn it. I quit an agent who has a lot of authors you would recognize by their published books. I walked away from writing for a year.

There's nothing wrong with wanting an agent. There's nothing wrong with wanting to sell to NY. Is it close to impossible? Yes. But it does happen. Last year, after nationals, G. Jillian Stone sold. So did Robin Perrini, who a (defunct chapter) mate used to brainstorm with way back in the day.

My aggravation with writers who write one or two manuscripts, get a rejection, maybe two, or enter a contest and get hammered, then quit or self pub because editors are assholes, is huge.

If I had that mentality, I would have quit nineteen years ago after an editor told me to learn to write.

Or after my 15th manuscript that didn't sell.

Like that lovely old mare, who only grew better with age, so have I. My writing is good enough to land me an up and coming agent. Branded is the best thing I've ever written. I have hopes it might be the one.

So, instead of whining, bitching and moaning about how hard things are, get tough, people.

I did.

Inspiration Far...and Near

2011-10-17T18:30:00.000-04:00

For those of you who follow this blog closely, I've often mentioned how travel gives me story ideas. This weekend I'm off to a resorted I visited almost 4 years ago. Back then I had yet to sell my first book, and wasn't sure what would come of the ideas buzzing through my head.

But look at this portion of the lobby. How can you look at it and not be inspired? Go ahead, take a moment and think of how you could work this into a story. Fill it with Scarlett O'Hara types circa 1850, faces pressed against the windows spotting for the perfect man. Or a 1950s family reunion, complete with crazy aunt and two sisters who haven't spoken in ten years, both set on snaring the handsome visitor from they spot the moment they step into this lobby.

Now move on to the indoor pool, filled with water from the hot springs that made the area famous. The bonus is that in additional to all the medicinal properties of the water, it makes it twice as easy to float. How would you use that information in a red-hot love scene? Stealing through the long hallways to come to this beautiful, steamy room, bobbing on the water?

New sights are exciting and fresh - easy to let your imagination roam. But you can try the same thing wherever you are, whatever you're looking at. Remember, to quote NBC Thursday night theme from the 1990s "If you haven't seen it yet, its new to you".

So take a spin around where you live, and look at it with fresh eyes. See if you can spin ideas out of what is usual and run of the mill to you. Remember that to everyone else, if they were visiting you, it would be fresh and story-worthy.

Welcome Shawna Thomas

2011-10-15T05:45:00.000-04:00

Thanks so much for coming. We love company, and I have a soft spot for Carina authors.

1. Question of great imagination--tell us about you!

Wow! isn't it funny that I really don't know how to answer that question? I'm a mom of six kids and married to an amazing man. I love to garden and bake. I dream of a time I'll have the luxury to create fabulous desserts like you see on Food Network. I write--I always have and it's a big part of who I am. If I'm not writing down stories, I'm telling them to my children.

2. Here in the Midwest, we're tumbling headlong into autumn. What do you like about this time of year? Is it friendly to your muse?
I LOVE autumn! Unfortunately, here in the desert, autumn, and spring, are short. I love the colors of fall, the weather, the holidays. Everything! As my computer is very near a large single-pane window, the cooler weather is definitely friendly to my muse. It's hard to be creative when you have sweat trickling down your back. : ) And in the winter, my fingers are always cold. I have to keep a hot cup of coffee by my computer just to warm my hands enough to type. Okay, I'd keep the coffee nearby anyway. ; )

3. What's on your TBR pile?

Number one right now is the new Ilona Andrews. I love that series. Looking forward to reading Fight or Flight by Natalie Damschroder, A Taste of Texas by Liz Talley, Stone Kissed by Keri Stevens, and oh, so many more! Right now I'm finishing up Heart of the Druid Laird by Barbara Longley.

4. Do you read mostly inside your own genre or sub-genre or outside it? Why?

I love romance so I read anything within that genre. Even novels labeled urban fantasy usually have a good deal of romance. (I love the romance between Curran and Kate in the Kate Daniel's series) I also love to read YA. Although I don't strictly write YA, some of my books have that flavor. I used to read only outside my genre to keep my ideas pure, but I realize that's silly. Most things have been done, or written about, it's all how you tell the story. Besides, I love everything romance and everything fantasy. : )

5. What's your favorite thing about yourself? Your least favorite? (Okay, I know I'm doubling these up. Sorry. I'm just way too people-curious!)

My favorite thing about myself... If it really matters to me, I don't give up. Knock me down and I'll generally dust myself off and get back to work. I may feel discouraged, sorry for myself and need copious amounts of chocolate, but I won't lose hope for long. The least favorite? I think I have to do everything myself. Well, no, I don't think that way, but I act that way. I guess it comes from being a single mom for so long and before that, the oldest in charge of her siblings. I don't tend to ask for help, even when I feel like I'm drowning in responsibilities. I'll lose sleep, stress, and make myself sick first. LOL That's probably more honest then you were looking for. ; )

6. Careerwise, where would you like to be in 10 years?

I'd like to have at least 6 more books published. Hopefully some of them in brick and mortar stores. I'd also like to be able to quit the day job and focus on my writing.

7. Do you have a favorite hero type? Heroine?

I'm a sucker for the bad boy with the soft heart. I think that's why vampires are so appealing. This is the ultimate badboy, but oh, when he loves the heroine enough to be vulnerable? Ultimate turn on! I like strong heroines. A woman who knows what to do and how to do it. Someone who is independent and maybe a bit surprised to find she needs the hero in her life.

8. If you could have dinner with any woman, living or dead, who would it be? What would you talk about?

Dead, my grandma, hands down. She was the most influential person in my life and I miss her every day. Living...just one? I'd have to say my friend, Crystal, who lives very far away.

9. On that same order, is there any specific writer, living or dead, who made you know that's what you wanted to do?

From the time I could remember I've been addicted to Tolkien. I've lost count how many times I've read the series. I was in love with Legolas, then Aragorn. When the movie came out, it was Eomer that stole my heart. I cut my reading teeth on CS Lewis and Terry Brooks. These men are master of the craft. The world building is out of this world. Pun intended. ; )

Find Shawna at http://shawnathomas.com
http://authorshawnathomas.blogspot.com/

ALTERED DESTINY by Shawna Thomas
Carina Press

Selia has run her family's tavern since she was fifteen and can hunt and fight the equal of any man. When she rescues a badly wounded man and nurses him back to health, she has no idea she's about to change not only her life, but also the destinies of two peoples...
The battered warrior is Svistra—a race of bloodthirsty savages determined to destroy her homeland. Or so the stories claim. Jaden reveals a different truth: how his ancestors were driven into the barren northern mountains. Now they are strong and war parties are pushing south wanting their land back.
The son of a Svistra Commander, Jaden is looking for a way to bring peace to both humans and Svistrans. He tries to ignore his growing passion for Selia, but when she is captured he has to decide what he would be willing to sacrifice to save the woman he loves...

How Do You Handle Deadlines?

2011-10-14T16:08:00.003-04:00

Last Monday I got edits requested by my editor. She asked that I have them back in a week. Luckily, there weren't a lot of changes needed, so I thought, "No, problem." Until I got to some changes needed in a fight scene. Whoa! There was my problem. I'm not great with fight scenes. I can see them in my head, but getting it on paper is a different story. The largest portion of my time was spent trying to get it right. But I kept at it until I did what I needed to do.

This got me to thinking about the way I handle my writing. I wonder if I kept at it because there was a deadline involved? Usually, when I get stuck, I close the laptop and do something else until a way out comes to me. I didn't have that luxury this time.

How do you handle working on a deadline? Are they helpful, or do they stress you out?

Do you, will you Nano???

2011-10-13T16:18:00.002-04:00

Yep, it's that time of year again, the great NaNoWriMo onslaught. Are you, will you, do you???

I did in 2008 and got about half way when I discovered the book was turning inside out on itself and I was losing control and thus, lost interest. I knew I was going to have to do a major overhaul to ever get it back on track and thus lose my word count.

I know, I know. You're supposed to shut off that infernal inner editor during November, but there were definite plot points that I couldn't fix without rewriting and I'm basically a linear writer so I couldn't progress without regress. Does that make any kind of sense???

Anyhoo--I haven't done it since. But yesterday, I signed up. I've decided to write Bix book 2 in November. At least 50K words of it.

So, in the next two weeks, I have to finish my rewrite of the Challenge scenes, write a synopsis, send the full in on request, and do a rough plot draft of book two.

AGH! I have a lot of work to do. Why am I wasting valuable writing time by talking to you????

Kidding. So, tell me, are you going to NaNo and if you are, do you want to be my buddy?

Simply Irresistible

2011-10-12T09:19:00.000-04:00

The leaves are beginning to stack up here at Casa Knight. Today's rain isn't helping much. But I will say it's nice to see a lump of red, yellow, orange and gold on our curb every morning instead of plain old concrete. Kind of like a colorful snowbank. And every morning at the crack of dawn and every afternoon at precisely 3 PM I get to hear the crunch-cruch of little feet wandering through our yard.

It seems the neighborhood kids (maybe all kids?) can't resist a pile of leaves. So far no one has gone swimming in the leaves, but there's hope since about 2 million more leaves have yet to fall. If anyone does, I have a camera at the ready.

As I was ~~rudely awakened~~ listening to the crunch-crunch this morning I realized some things never change. No, I haven't been tempted to go swimming in those leaves (since I was about 7), but I still find some things simple irresistible.

Mounds candy bars. Romantic comedies - and if there's a bit of action a la "Fool's Gold" or "Romancing the Stone" so much the better. Gerard Butler. The pull of a new story - one I'm writing or one I'm reading. New releases from my favorite authors - and finding unknown-to-me backlists. Lemonade. E! (television and online, something about celebrity gossip pulls me in against my will).

What about you? What are some of your Simply Irresistible indulgences?

A Touch of History

2011-10-11T10:35:00.003-04:00

I'm considering writing a historical.

After years of writing contemporary suspense, a historical western is calling my name.

I grew up in history, literally. My parents ran dude horses out of the 150 year old stable in downtown Ouray, Colorado, for 35 years, then my sister did for another five. From the time I could ride, I spent my days in that old building. There are original posters on the walls, old tack and buggies in the building. Ghosts of the men and mules who toiled to carry the silver out of the mountains fill the old place.

Ouray (pronounced U-ray) is living history. It's a mining town, full of old buildings, and many descendants of settlers who came here mostly from Italy to mine the gold and silver in the mountains still live there.

Not too far away is Silverton and Telluride, with similar backgrounds.

History has never been my "thing". My daughter is a history major in college, and she loves it.

So why write a historical now?

I loathe research. Bleh. Kick me in the leg; I'd rather.

I can't find the kind of westerns I want to read. There are a few, but I picked up everything our bookstore had and was left wanting more. So I turned to historicals. I've really been enjoying reading the western ones. I like a good regency, too, but the westerns have been especially good.

Do I want to spend the next 4-6 months on a sub-genre that I'm not that familiar with? Is the story idea I have strong enough to carry a whole manuscript? I'm not sure.

I'm curious if any of you have changed directions and sub-genres, and what your results were?

Does Everything Come Back to Writing?

2011-10-10T11:39:00.003-04:00

I hosted a poker game at my house this weekend. Along with my husband, two of my chapter-mates brought their hubbies along. We had dinner, played cards, discovered insanely good carmel corn....and talked about writing.

Don't get me wrong - we tried not to, I swear! Our husbands are all incredibly patient men who valiently put up with lots of romance related activities. They accompany us to our conferences (where of course the only topic is romance writing), they support us at signing events (where of course the only topic is romance writing), and even come to hear us speak at book festivals (where...of course...the only topic is books). But poker, well, that sounded like a night off to them. A night where they could throw some cards and just be normal, testosterone fueled guys.

We tried soooo hard to be normal couples, talking about THEIR work, movies, the Yankees falling out of contention. But (and I've mentioned this before) writing is such a solitary endeavor that whenever another author comes within five feet, we start blabbing. I've decided it is an uncontrollable side effect of being an author. We made it all of ten minutes into the evening before sidetracking into a Dear Author controversy. Then I started to feel guilty, and righted the conversational ship. That lasted until dinner, when critique groups came up. We even tried talking about Big Love, and I couldn't help but bring up a book (what was I thinking?!?!) I'm reading called The Lonely Polygamist. You see the pattern developing?

I've come to the conclusion that yes, indeed, everything will find its way back to the topic of writing when authors are together. We're starved for water-cooler chat, Twitter notwithstanding. And as long as you are married to men as terrific as ours, that's okay. What about you guys - are you struck with this affliction, too?

Welcome Author Sarah Grimm

2011-10-08T05:00:00.002-04:00

Welcome Sarah Grimm to Word Wranglers today, with my apologies because the pictures are in here kind of...funny.

My Dear Reader-

My name is Isabeau Montgomery. You may know me as the owner of Izzy’s Bar in Long Island City, New York, but thirteen years ago...

I’m sorry. The past is difficult for me to talk about. You see, when I was four I turned the music world on its ear by sitting down at a piano and playing Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor perfectly, after hearing it only once. I’m what they call a piano phenom, a child with an ear for music; a prodigy. Instantly, I became an international sensation. The media went crazy, people flocked from all over the world to watch me play. I didn’t understand any of it. I was just a little girl doing what I loved. Until what I loved was turned against me.

I survived the accident that took my mother’s life. I recovered the use of my left hand, but never played the piano again. I grew up, inherited the bar after my biological father passed away, and settled into life as a business owner. A life without music was a struggle at first, but I was doing fine. I was happy…until one night, after midnight, Noah Clark walked through my door.

He came to town to record a demo, secure a record contract that will help him reclaim his past and put Black Phoenix back on the charts. I recognized him the moment I saw him, not as the famous rock singer, but as the man who was going to change my life—whether I wanted him to or not.

Noah has this way of looking at me, of seeing me, the real me, not the mask I wear. I feel connected to him, felt it the moment he entered my world. He calls to me, on a level much deeper than simple sexual attraction. When I’m with him I’m not as lost or alone. When I’m with Noah…I hear music where for years there was nothing but silence.

Which is why I push him away. I can’t allow him to get too close to me or he’ll discover my secret, uncover the lie I’ve been hiding behind. Noah might understand me on a level no one before him ever has, but what he doesn’t understand—what he can’t possibly understand—is sometimes the past is better left alone.

~*~

Sarah Grimm is an award winning author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. She lives in West Michigan with her husband, two sons and three miniature schnauzers. Between mom's taxi service, parts runs, and answering the phone for the family marine repair business, Sarah can be found curled in her favorite chair, crafting her next novel.

Find Sarah here:

Website: http://www.sarahgrimm.com

Blog: http://www.authorsarahgrimm.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/SarahGrimm.Author

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/SGrimmAuthor

Why I Won't Self Publish

2011-10-07T16:00:00.003-04:00

I'm not a person who thinks self publishing is a bad idea. I think it could possibly open doors for some really good authors to be discovered. One of my fave books was a self published book that I read over ten years ago called Love and Pain. But is self publishing for me? No. Here's why.

I'm a horrible editor. I can read my own work ten times and every time, I'll find a mistake. I correct them and send the chapter to my cp's and they find more mistakes.

I don't have the time. I work from eight to five, five days a week. Sometimes, the commute from work to home can take an hour and a half. I like to unwind and spend time with hubby. If I self published, it would take way to much of my time. Not only would I have to wirte the story, edit, format it, design or choose a cover, but I'd have to sell it too. I'd rather spend my spare time writing.

I'm not computer savvy. Sure I can check my e-mail, blog, and blab on the social networks. But uploading to kindle or doing a cover? Thinking about it gives me a headache.

I haven't paid my dues. Let's face it. Some of the self pubbed workout there is bad. I think this may be because some authors don't want to take the time to learn their craft. They want to be published and they want it now. I haven't been seriously writing for very long. Just a few years. But there is so much I still have to learn. So, right now, self publishing is not for me.

I want to be like Joan---

2011-10-06T11:47:00.009-04:00

In high school, I wrote the school paper, The Bay Window, and our tagline was "through the window, shines the light".

What's that got to do with self-publishing? Well, it's a new window for writers, right?

Or is it?

Vanity publishing has been around for the ages. That's what we called it in the old-pre cyber days. Vanity Publishing.

You had to pay someone to take your words and put them into a book, then you had to hawk the books yourself to try and make back the thousands you'd spent to get "published". Basically anyone could be published if they had the funds.

No self-respecting writer--SRW--would ever do it. SRW wanted to be paid to be published. SRW wanted the agent call, the editor to help polish the book, the book to hold in their hand, and finally the book on the shelf.

Imagine Joan Wilder without the posters in her apartment, without lugging her 5oo page monstrosity to the bar to give to her agent, or the prefinal scene in her agents office, staring wistfully out the window. I remember wanting an agent who cared about me, cared about my writing, cared enough to share a drink and check out the guys in the bar. Or the moment when the drug lord recognizes her name, "Joan Wilder? The Joan Wilder?"

Whole different movie if Joan Wilder is a self-published author, isn't it?

For me, I still want the Joan Wilder dream.
I want the validation of an agent. I want the publisher who believes that I'm worth the risk of giving me an advance. I want the book on the shelf and I want to build a readership that makes someone pull my book off the shelf just because I'm the author.

I also want Michael Douglas as my Jack Colton, but that's a different post.

Would I? Should I? Could I? A Questioner's Thoughts on Self-Publishing

2011-10-05T07:00:00.026-04:00

Writing is a lonely business. Those of you reading this know that because...you're writers. We sit alone for hours on end, with either low music playing or only the clacking of the keyboard to keep us company. When the words aren't flowing, it's like the worst kind of death. When the words are flowing, woe to anyone who might interrupt us.

The online world changed that. When once there were only local writer's groups - if we were lucky! - to share our stories with, now there are a multitude of online groups, blogs, social media...and the list goes on. Still, when something good happens - and even more, something bad - we want to reach out. To talk to someone who understands, to get advice on how to bounce back from defeat.

This year, even our online world changed...because, although they'd been out for a while, e-readers have become quite common. And a lot of people we know decided it was time to stop waiting for Someone Important to notice them and take the bull by the horn. The success stories are staggering: Amanda Hocking is a millionaire after a little over a year of self-publishing...and she got a traditional contract to boot. JA Konrath has sold millions of books, Bob Mayer...the list goes on. But the list of self-published authors who haven't taken the world by storm? That list is even longer - because, as Christi and D'Ann have already pointed out - there is a lot of dreck in the world. Not all of it is self-pub, which sometimes makes the self-pub realm look really, really lucrative - because if X Self-Pub Author published and I'm much better than that then I'll make a killing, right?

Not necessarily.

I don't know the answer, but I'm studying the self-pub marketplace and one of the best blogs I've found is by Bob Mayer - he doesn't sugar-coat, he offers good advice. His biggest word of caution? Don't have only one book - have a backlist ready - whether series or not - because if a reader likes you, they won't want to wait months and months and months to read your next book.
What good advice have you heard - good or bad - about self-publishing?

Self-Publish? Me?

2011-10-04T10:29:00.004-04:00

My stack of finished, but unsold manuscripts remind me a bit of theses leaves--dead and pretty much useless at this point.

Because I have focused on Harlequin lines for so long with their stringent word counts, I don't have a whole lot of other options for the stories they didn't want.

Until now!

I can self pub them.

I know, I know. Only losers self-pub. Those who aren't good enough.

In a word, baloney.

The romance market is glutted. I personally have a dozen CPs, anyone of whom is good enough to be published by the Big Six, and a couple of them are.

But a whole bunch of those very talented CPs aren't published. And they should be.

Published doesn't automatically mean good anymore. Published doesn't mean diddly. You can pick up a book from a small e-pub that's just awful and you can pick up a book from one of the big houses that's horrible, too. Of course the opposite is true, too.

Self-pubbing gives those manuscripts, which are good, but unsold, a place.

I've always been dead-set against self-publishing. I've always been dead-set against e-pubbling. Not that their the same, they aren't.

But I'm coming around.

For that stack of manuscripts that sit under my bed, with no future but the burn pit, maybe self-publishing them is the way to go. If only one person not related to me or a crit partner would read them, that would feel good.

I wouldn't feel like a loser if that were to happen. It doesn't mean I'm less of a writer, or not good enough. It means that I am willing to take a risk that Harlequin wouldn't.

My friend, Trish McCallan, is being brutally honest about the process. Check out her numbers, stats and all other things of interest to self-pubishing here... http://stumblingthroughself-publishing.blogspot.com/

Do you feel that self-publishing is a mistake? Only for the people who can't write? Or do you feel it's a viable option for your unsold work?

Self-Publishing - Good Idea or Bad?

2011-10-03T09:20:00.003-04:00

For the past few years, at every romance conference and chapter meeting, e-publishing has been the hot-button topic. It still is, but now talk is turning as well to self-publishing. I thought we'd spend the entire week discussing it, because there are so many different viewpoints out there. In fact, I have 2 chapter mates doing it now, as well as several NY Times bestselling authors I personally know about to roll into it.

See the picture at the top of this page? It is a beautiful, clear mountain lake. Pictures like that have sold millions of bottles of 'pure' water for years. But what if, floating in the middle of that lake, there was an oil slick? It wouldn't contaminate the whole thing, but you'd still probably refrain from purchasing that water ever again, right?

That's where I stand on previously unpublished authors self-publishing. It might work, but chances are that their work has never been published for a reason. Even if they hire an editor, it won't reach the level of professionalism necessary. People who purchase it will be disappointed, and begin to distrust e-books in general. Why ruin an entire genre because of hubris?

The other side of the coin are published authors deciding to self-publish for a variety of reasons, contract related or otherwise. They can be trusted to put out a reputable product. Self-publishing is an exciting opportunity for them to stretch their wings, or re-energize backlist titles.

If you self-publish before your manuscript is ready, the bottom line is that it will only hurt you. Bad reviews will be posted, things that will never go away and editors may stumble across. You'll pay out hundreds of dollars to an editor and copy artist, and may end up only making a fraction of that back. Where, exactly, is the up side to that?

I Can't Write That !

2011-09-30T06:00:00.000-04:00

I'm sure we've all heard the advice, "Write the kind of books you'd like to read." I agree with that. To a certain extent. My favorite books of all time are time travels. When I browse the shelves, if it's a time travel, it's sold. Here's the thing. I wouldn't be able to write one to save my life. Why? I HATE RESEARCH!

Sure,there are some things I don't mind researching. Lost societies, Egyptian tombs, ancient mysteries. My fave is what's really at the top of Mount Sinai? Did someone actually find Noah's ark? If not, why are a lot of the photos classified? There have to be unanswered questions. But things that have no mystery to them, like the history of Louisiana,is a snooze fest for me.

In historic and time travel romance, an author can have every historical fact wrong, and I would never know. An author once said that she hated the movie, Braveheart because the history was so inaccurate. I loved that movie. Probably would love it had it been a book. It's why I don't write anything that requires a lot of research. I'd get bored. Some authors love research, and that's cool. But give me a good story and hey, I'm all yours!

Waiting Game

2011-09-29T14:27:00.003-04:00

It's been years since I've queried.

And I guess I forgot how time consuming it can be. What with the research--who's the perfect agent for this? Okay, who are the perfect fifty agents for this? Who had comments left on Query Tracker today? Are there any updates I need to research?

Then you have to write the query letter and try to find some sort of informational tidbit that you can use to personalize it toward one of the fifty agents. I actually used the fact that we both enjoy the music stylings of Lily Allen in one of my queries. Jury's still out whether that will be a selling point in considering my ten pages.

And now comes the waiting part.

The last time I queried a novel it was done via snail mail.

Told you it'd been a while.

And there's one--and only one--way that I like that better. The mail comes once a day. Way less time consuming.

I'm now checking email on my computer, on my phone at work, at stop lights. I've become obsessed to see "re:query" in my inbox.

I tell myself, "No news is good news" and "It's good--they're considering.." I'm not sure if I'm right or simply delusional.

Nine queries out, one form rejection, eight to go.
Time to check my email.

Something's Off...

2011-09-28T14:23:00.000-04:00

A couple of years ago, we visited my husband's aunt over the holidays. This isn't an unusual event, we visit quite a bit. But this visit was...different. It started on Saturday morning when I was awoken by the smell of garlic and syrup. No, that isn't a typo.

She'd gotten this great recipe for baked french toast from a co-worker; one of the ingredients was 'texas style toast'. She took that literally and bought a brand of bread called Texas Toast...yeah, the kind sold in a box to serve with spaghetti. The garlic kind. I have been forever thankful that she chose plain-garlic and not garlic-cheesy...I might never have recovered. I'm not much of a breakfast person under the best of circumstances and this was...definitely not the best. The smells warred in my nose until I felt sick to my stomach. Needless to say, no breakfast was eaten that day but thankfully she's a good sport because her children have been teasing her about it ever since.

What does this story have to do with writing? Sometimes, writing books is that way. At first it's a niggling feeling - like the niggling smell that awoke me that morning. Then it morphs into a full-on oh-my-god-thats-bad gasp. Quickly followed by the need to retch into the nearest trash can.

I had one of those recently, but the beauty of a badly written beginning is that it can be fixed. Deleted. Started over. Sure, there is the lingering how-did-i-do-that feeling lingering in the air (kind of like syrupy garlic in the kitchen), but once the clean up is begun, it's easier to joke about that bad beginning...and pretend it never happened.

Quitting

2011-09-27T13:22:00.003-04:00

Yesterday, on one of the loops I'm on, a woman wrote a long, emotion-filled post about how she had gotten a hurtful rejection and she was quitting.

I've been there many times.

Not even over painful rejections. But burn-out, tired of the drill, all of it have caused me to quit.

I've rarely told the story of the first manuscript I ever subbed, but thought I would share today. I used to belong to a tiny chapter, CWRW, and one of the authors was in the Intrigue stable. Somehow, she managed to get her editor all the way from NYC to our tiny chapter. I got to pitch a manuscript called Wild Horse Moon, not to be confused with Wild Horses. (I do like wild horses, don't I?)

Anyway, the editor requested the ms. I was on my way! I made plans of what to spend the check on, who I would thank in my acknowledgement page...yada, yada, yada.

I didn't sell that manuscript, or the next fifteen. Yeah, fifteen.

The editor said, and I'll never forget it, "I'm not going to sugarcoat this, you need to learn to write."

I quit that day.

I called my published friend, sobbing so hard I was choking, and she very mildly reminded me that if I quit I would never see my name on a book. It snapped me out of it, and I began the next manuscript that day.

There have been other times I have quit. When I left my first agent, I stopped writing. I was tired, discouraged beyond repair. But eventually, almost a year later, I came back.

This business isn't easy. It's full of artists in a business world. Filled with people who have their eye on the bottom line, and not necessarily our tender feelings.

I get tired of it all sometimes. Want to quit. But the truth is, writing is so much a part of me now, that to make me stop, I think you'll have to bury me.

Book Festival Goodness!

2011-09-26T10:26:00.004-04:00

I write this completely exhausted, but happy. This weekend was a three day marathon of participation in the 16th annual Baltimore Book Festival. We had panels and readings non-stop from my chapter, the Maryland Romance Writers. Of course, we weren't alone, by any means. Here's the official description:

The Baltimore Book Festival features hundreds of author appearances and book signings, 100+ exhibitors and booksellers, non-stop readings on multiple stages, cooking demos by celebrity chefs, poetry readings and workshops, panel discussions, walking tours, storytellers and hands-on projects for kids, street theater, live music, and a delicious variety of food, beer and wine.

What made the weekend so special? It was a living, breathing celebration of reading. This wasn't a writer's conference, or a fan convention. It was the City of Baltimore inviting all its residents out to revel in books. And they did! We had EPIC rain on Friday, and yet still had standing room only in our tent. When the weather took a turn for the better on Saturday, the crowds grew exponentially. People purchased our books. Aspiring authors hung on our every word, and plan to join our chapter. Passers by paused to hear a reading, then sat down and stayed for the whole hour, sucked in by three more readings.

Coincidentally, the National Book Festival ran down in DC this weekend. I'm sure there are many others across the country. So if you have one in your town, I encourage you to make the time to attend. And if there isn't one yet, start the ball rolling!

My Writing Hiatus

2011-09-23T06:00:00.000-04:00

I've been on hiatus this week, trying to see if the characters of my current wip would come out to play. BIG surprise. All of my characters from all of my half started stories are screaming for attention. Every last one. Jude and Kalyste. Allen and Kamala. Deliliah and Demitri. And my latest two, Lucien and Astrid. They're all yelling, "Me first!" Lucien has become the loudest. He's a secodary character from my last story, Dreamers. I don't know if I'm ready to deal with him yet. He has a bit of a nasty temper, and is a loud mouth. He also has the hardest story.
So right now, I'm letting them all fight it out in my head and will try to figure out which one has impreesed me the most. So far, Kalyste and Jude, from Life After is in the lead. Even the secondary character, Ella is putting her two cents in. I'm getting excited about writing again. Now, if only everyone would wait their turn.

Falling Leaves

2011-09-22T15:32:00.004-04:00

Fall is here. Except for the labor intensive raking, I wish my yard looked like this. But cherry and apple trees just drop old yellow leaves--death in the wind.

This years it's my season of change.

My oldest daughter announced that she's finally leaving home. I'm excited for this new chapter in her life, but I'm also sad to see her leave me. Sure, it's only about a seven minute drive, but I'll miss having her around. I am fortunate enough to claim her as one of my favorite people and one of my closest confidantes.

On the plus side, I'm starting to imagine the changes (aka improvements) I can make in the bonus room that has been her bedroom for the past three years. I could have a Margie haven of escape. My puzzles can get off the kitchen table--which dh would love. I can create a reading corner. Oh, the possibilities.

Also, I've decided to begin the second Bix book. Maybe I'm jinxing myself since I have yet to sell or even get representation for the first one, but I SO believe in this character and honestly, he just won't shut up. And I'm more excited about this new story that I can't just let it wait.

For me, fall is a seasoning of letting go, but also a season of beginning a new. If you don't believe me, check out your tv schedule.

My Wall Inspires Me...

2011-09-21T07:00:00.001-04:00

On my wall is a cherry tree branch. D'Ann's post yesterday, about moving forward, got me thinking about my work space. That tree branch helps me look forward - especially in the dog days of winter when we're surrounded by ice and snow and cold...all not fun things to be surrounded by, in my opinion.

It's not a piece of great artwork and no, it isn't real. It's one of those wall decal things. Chocolate brown branch, butterfly sniffing a blossom and baby-pink blooms hanging on. A few of the blossoms look like they're blowing away in the wind - I took a little artistic license when I put it up. I think what I like best about the branch is that it's spring to me - and spring is everything hopeful.

When the grass greens up, when those first tulip bulbs pop out of the earth, when the birds wake me up at the crack of dawn...I know the snow is just about over and long, warm days are in my future. But more than that, I know that I am not stuck, because just as the seasons keep our flowers and trees from being perennially bare or blossoming, the bloom on my wall helps me remember - even on days when the writing is hard - that some of the days are perfect 77-degree, not a grey cloud in the sky day. And that keeps me going.

Lookin' Ahead

2011-09-20T02:01:00.004-04:00

This picture is of my daughter Brandi's mare, Lantana. I love this picture because of the way Lantana's ears are up and she's looking ahead, down the trail. She's excited about what's coming up, looking forward to seeing what's around the bend.

I know how she feels.

I feel this way about writing lately.

A lot of exciting things are happening and I feel good about them.

1. I have a full out at Supers. It has been there awhile and this is a good thing, I think.

2. I'm almost finished with Branded. I'm really getting excited about tying the plot threads together. I'm anxious to do some revisions that will make the book better. And I'm ancy to get done and move on to the next thing.

3. For a long time, I didn't have a place I felt comfortable. Now I do. It was there all along. I'm a contemporary western suspense writer. Period. That's my brand. I always had it, I just never named it until I began introducing myself, and there it was!

4. I have several projects in mind. Sunny? Burn? Or start something thing brand new? I can't decide yet. The possibilities are endless and I'm jumping to get to them.

5. For the first time ever, I'm considering self-pubbing an old manuscript or two. A couple of writers who I really admire are jumping in, and they're encouraging me to do it, too. The water is looking a little more inviting all the time.

6. I feel the future of publishing is actually brighter than a lot of people do. With all the options, there's a place for everyone. If not the Big Six, then self-publishing or e-publishing.

I could keep going, but for now, these are the trails I'm looking down. I'm anxious to saddle up and ride.

What excites you about writing?

On The Road Again

2011-09-19T10:19:00.002-04:00

I've hit the road again - or rather, the e-highway - on a blog tour for my latest release. It is EXHAUSTING! I don't know how authors did it back in the day traveling for real around the country. Do you want to know what makes it so hard? Making myself sound interesting.

All you really want to do is get people to read your blurb, like it, and immediately rush off to buy the book. But on a blog tour, there are all sorts of interviews. And that is when you start to question yourself. Is my life actually interesting to someone who has never met me? Do they truly want to know where I'm from and what book I'm reading right now? The pressure sets in to make every answer witty, and at least every other one humorous. Each response feels like an extended job interview, trying to sell the unseen masses on me, rather than just on the merits of my book. Or, like an endless series of first dates (without even a fancy dessert paid for by someone else as my reward for getting through each one).

When you stop by blogs, are you genuinely curious about the writing process? Whether I plot or not, whether I write at midnight or at dawn? Let me know what you've always wanted to learn from a writer, and I promise to work it into an upcoming jaunt across the blogosphere.

Dream a Little Dream

2011-09-16T06:00:00.000-04:00

Working through a case of the blahs. The scary thing is I'm feeling blah about writing. I lost the excitement I used to have to open up the laptop and fill the blank page with words. I think a lot of it may be stress. The day job has changed dramatically and it's driving me crazy.
So here's what I figured I'll do. Take a week off writing. Decompress a little. See if I miss it. Hope the characters will come out to play. I realized if I try to force the story, it stinks.
Maybe my dreams will take me where I need to go. That's got to be the key. I've forgotten to dream. My dreams used to drive me. I haven't taken the time out to dream lately. Daydreams or otherwise. Lately, I haven't been able to remember my sleeping dreams. So tonight, I'll close the laptop, put it away, and hopefully, see where my dreams take me.

Limbo Land

2011-09-15T12:26:00.002-04:00

I am stuck in Limbo Land.

I worked for two years on Bix. And now, I'm kind of adrift not to be constantly thinking about him and wondering how I'm going to cook all the eggs I put into the pot.

Sure, I have another Bix story in my head--a story that picks up the day after the current book ends. And I do have a rough draft of the first chapter. But, all the writerly advice out there tells authors to wait to write a sequel in case you don't sell the first one.

So, where do I focus? Do I ignore the writing sages? Work on an old project--after all, I really hate for my research and world-building that I did for the dystopian to go to waste? Begin something new--What if Rip Van Winkle had descendants who were cursed? Focus on the business end--I emailed 5 queries last night.

Where, oh where to go?

Well, while you discuss it among yourselves, I'm going to pull out my procrastinated list and do some projects I've put off for a while. My husband will be so surprised when he comes home to a sparkling home.

Having Fun - Again

2011-09-14T07:00:00.002-04:00

With Labor Day officially behind us, school is in front of us. Yeah, bebe is only 3 but we started her in pre-school during the winter semester last year - 1) as an 'only' she needed the socialization and 2) she's flippin' smart and needed the mental stimulation. So I got into a really good writing place - I would stop at our local Starbucks or MickeyD's and write for the 2.5 hours she was in school. No email interruptions, no social networks - although I should admit I did look for writing sprints on Twitter each morning - and best of all no ringing phone or pinging non-fiction reminders. Just me, my iPad and my words.

Heaven.

Of course, during the summer, that great momentum I had going totally fizzled. Oh, I still met my writing goals, but I didn't feel like I was in the zone. If that makes any sense.

So when school started last Friday I was on Cloud 9. Two hours to write. Two hours to ignore everything else and just focus.

Heaven.

And so far it has been. No I don't have any amazing 10,000 day word counts to share, but my new WIP research is solid and I'm moving forward on the new novel - *and* the novella that hit the wayside during the summer. It's nice to be back in my routine, especially when I didn't realize how out of routine I'd gotten thanks to summer sunshine - and no preschool!

How about you? Do you thrive on routine? Can you write at the drop of a hat?

Bucked Off!

2011-09-13T14:16:00.001-04:00

Two weeks ago today I went with my dad to move cows. My old mare Fawn is lame, so I looked around and decided to ride Cinnamon, the young mare. She should be broke. I've ridden her all over the mountains. I've put my time in on her. I've done the groundwork, built the foundation.

But she surprised me. Bucked me off. Hard.

I landed on the backs of my hands, flipped over onto my back. I was knocked out. Came to looking at my dad's boots.

I sat up, lip quivering a little. But then I cussed, stood up and got back on her. I rode her.

I was hurt pretty bad, both hands swelled like basketballs, my spine looked like it had been slashed with black and blue paintballs. I didn't have a spot that didn't have a bruise. I think I had a concussion.

Cinnamon needs some more work before she goes out again.

Kind of like my book. I thought it was ready, polished. I've entered it in some contests lately. And got bucked off hard.

I was bruised up pretty bad.

Like Cinnamon, the book isn't ready to go out yet.

It needs some more groundwork, some more fixing.

But I will get it back out there.

And ain't that the whole point...get back up and get back on?

Welcome Guest Blogger Kathryn Meyer Griffith Today!!!!!

2011-09-12T09:20:00.008-04:00

The Story of Egyptian Heart - A backstory and other tidbits from an old writer’s life

Let me start with this: I have always loved ancient Egyptian stories since I was a child. I remember I wrote one of my first school papers at around eleven years old in pencil on the ancient Egyptians after dragging home an armful of musty smelling books from the library. I don’t recall exactly why I loved this particular time period and the people that lived in it but it might have had something to do with the movies The Ten Commandments (I was raised a Catholic), the horror mummy movies of the 1960’s and the early TV shows on Nefertiti and Cleopatra. I just had this affinity for the period.

It was February 1994 (I noted it on the outside of the manila folder where I keep a running book history on each novel) when I began Egyptian Heart. Originally I called it The Cursed Scarab. Later, I retitled it Egyptian Heart because I wanted it to more reflect the romance tale it had become.

I still had my agent, Lori Perkins, who’d sold four earlier novels for me to Zebra Books (Vampire Blood, 1991; The Last Vampire, 1992; Witches, 1993 and The Calling, 1994…after I’d sold my first three novels on my own to Leisure Books: Evil Stalks the Night, 1984: The Heart of the Rose, 1985; Blood Forge,1989) and she’d told me about a new romantic horror line that Silhouette was starting called the Shadows Line. They wanted to tap into the darker romantic paranormal market. Lori said they wanted the kind of story I wrote but with more romance. It was Silhouette after all. I’d been labeled as a horror writer from the get go, though all my novels blended genres; usually I wrote a romantic horror mixture with dashes of adventure, suspense and sometimes threw in a little history or mystery as well…but in those days the big publishers felt the need (and I think they still do) to squeeze a writer into one narrow slot. So I was a horror writer.

But by 1994 I’d lost my sweet editor at Zebra and a new one took her place...and over the next year he didn’t like anything I wrote for him and later that year Zebra unceremoniously dropped me and my latest book (Predator, a story about a dinosaur in Crater Lake…which never came out but still lingers like some weird ghost book in every computer on the global Internet) only six weeks away from going to the bookstore shelves. I’d begged the new editor not to call it Predator, bad title since there was a popular movie out of that name and it was nothing about a dinosaur, and the cover was awful, an empty boat on a lake…what!!! Having that book – my first ever – dumped like that was a crushing experience, let me tell you. I had a stack of finished, printed covers and had already done my final edits! I got to keep my advance but the book was officially dead. The new editor-that-didn’t-like-my-writing explained: “No one wants to read a book about a dinosaur.” And six months later Jurassic Park came out! The book is still sitting in a drawer somewhere and perhaps one day I’ll resurrect and finish it as well).

At that point, my agent wanted me to branch out so I wrote two manuscripts for the Silhouette Shadows Line or tried to. Egyptian Heart and Shadow Road (a romantic suspense about a woman truck driver driving a dangerous wintry route with a murderer on her tail, and a hitchhiker in her cab that she feels she’s falling in love with…and fears, at times, he’s the killer; which later I retitled and sold as Winter’s Journey). To make a long story short, Silhouette Shadows turned both down. Seems I had too much horror in them; not enough sex. I didn’t follow the formula. Sheesh. I’ve never liked depending too much on sex in any of my books or writing a book too predictable. The originality of the novel and the characters make the story for me.

After that my agent dropped me. Ah, the life of a writer.

So, then life (as it has many times in my 39 year writing career), family and job problems, and my other novels (I was into murder mysteries for years and sold two to Avalon Books), got in the way and Egyptian Heart and Shadow Road went into drawer hibernation until, oh, about 2004, when I rediscovered them, dug them out, rewrote them and began trying to sell them again. Sometimes, I’ve found, a book left alone in a dark cubbyhole ages like good wine. (Or sometimes it just turns to vinegar.)

Fast forward three years to 2007 and a new e-book (e-books still being considered a risky new-fangled craze at that time!) publisher called The Wild Rose Press contracted both and eventually a third called The Ice Bridge, a ghostly romantic murder mystery set on Mackinac Island, and published them. Good publisher. They treated me well. But in 2010 when I contracted my two newest novels, Before the End: A Time of Demons and The Woman in Crimson (both romantic horror) my new publisher, Kim Richards Gilchrist at Damnation Books wanted to bring out all my old out-of-print novels again (going back to those early Leisure Books from the 1980’s) in print – and e-books for the first time ever. Seven old paperbacks. I’d rewrite them all, get new covers and they’d all live again. I was thrilled. And grateful. It would take a lot of work on both our parts but when we were done ALL my old novels would be in print again and in electronic form out in the world. I jumped right in.

Then when my two year contract (I was lucky, e-books still being new, it was only for two years; now most e-book publishers contract for five years or longer) ran out with The Wild Rose Press. I happily switched Egyptian Heart, Winter’s Journey, The Ice Bridge and a novella Don’t Look Back, Agnes to Eternal Press (Damnation Books sister company). Kim Richards, and her husband William, had just brought Realms of Fantasy Magazine into the fold, as well.
So. Egyptian Heart has had a very long history. Simply put, it’s a time travel paranormal romance set in the ancient times of Nefertiti and her heretic Pharaoh Akhenaton. It’s more romance than history, though I did a lot of research in 1994… originally for my 1994 Zebra horror paperback The Calling. I thought: why waste all this hard worked for research on just one novel? So I also used it for Egyptian Heart and an erotic short story, The Nameless One, one that Zebra had placed in their 1994 horror anthology Dark Seductions and now it’s available from Damnation Books.

The new cover for Egyptian Heart by Dawne Dominique is amazingly beautiful and Kim Richards herself was my editor. Thank you both.

So from a child’s love of ancient Egypt to the finished book, it’s been a long journey and goes to show all you writer’s out there that, yes, persistence does sometimes win out. And a good book never dies. It just ages like wine in a dark drawer.

I hope you’ll give Egyptian Heart a look and a read. The best way to describe it is through its blurb and so here it is:

Maggie Owen is a beautiful, spirited Egyptologist, but lonely. Even being in Egypt on a grant from the college she teaches at to search for an undiscovered necropolis she’s certain lies below the sands beyond the pyramids of Gizah doesn’t give her the happiness she’d hoped it would.

There’s always been and is something missing. Love.

Then her workmen uncover Ramose Nakh-Min’s ancient tomb and an amulet from his sarcophagus hurls her back to 1340 B.C – where she falls hopelessly in love with the man she was destined to be with, noble Ramose, who faithfully serves the heretic Pharaoh Akhenaton and his queen Nefertiti.

She’s fallen into perilous times with civil war threatening Egypt. She’s been mistaken for one of Ramose’s runaway slaves and with her light hair, jinn green eyes and fair skin she doesn’t fit in. Some say she’s magical and evil. Ramose’s favorite, Makere, tries to kill her.

The people, angry the Pharaoh has set his Queen aside and forced them to worship one god are rising up against him.

Maggie’s caught dangerously in the middle.

In the end, desperately in love, will she find a way to stay alive and with Ramose in ancient Egypt–and to make a difference in his world and history?
Because Maggie has finally found love. ***

And thank you for having me on your blog! Kathryn Meyer Griffith

Eternal Press buy link: http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615724437
You Tube Video Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cogCNYKzPqc

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A word about Kathryn Meyer Griffith, August 2011...
Since childhood I’ve always been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in the corporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit to write full time. I began writing novels at 21 and have had fourteen (nine romantic horror, one historical romance and two mysteries) previous novels published from Zebra Books, Leisure Books, Avalon Books, The Wild Rose Press, Damnation Books and Eternal Press.
I’ve been married to Russell for thirty-three years; have a son, James, and two grandchildren, Joshua and Caitlyn, and I live in a small quaint town in Illinois called Columbia, which is right across the JB Bridge from St. Louis, Mo. We have two quirky cats, Sasha and Cleo, and the four of us live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist, and a folk singer in my youth with my brother Jim, writing has always been my greatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until the day I die.

Novels and short stories from Kathryn Meyer Griffith:
Evil Stalks the Night (Leisure, 1984; Damnation Books, July 2012)
The Heart of the Rose (Leisure, 1985; Eternal Press Author’s Revised Edition out Nov.7, 2010)
Blood Forge (Leisure, 1989; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out February 2012)
Vampire Blood (Zebra, 1991; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out July 2011)
The Last Vampire (Zebra, 1992; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out October 2010)
Witches (Zebra, 1993; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out April 2011)
The Nameless One (short story in 1993 Zebra Anthology Dark Seductions;
Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out February 2011)
The Calling (Zebra, 1994; Damnation Books Author’s Revised Edition out October 2011)
Scraps of Paper (Avalon Books Murder Mystery, 2003)
All Things Slip Away (Avalon Books Murder Mystery, 2006)
Egyptian Heart (The Wild Rose Press, 2007; Author’s Revised Edition out again from Eternal Press in August 2011)
Winter’s Journey (The Wild Rose Press, 2008; Author’s Revised Edition out again from Eternal Press in September 2011)
The Ice Bridge (The Wild Rose Press, 2008; Author’s Revised Edition out again from Eternal Press in November 2011)
Don’t Look Back, Agnes novella and bonus short story: In This House (2008; ghostly romantic short story out again from Eternal Press in January 2012)
BEFORE THE END: A Time of Demons (Out from Damnation Books June 2010)
The Woman in Crimson (Out from Damnation Books September 2010)

Her Websites:
http://www.myspace.com/kathrynmeyergriffith (to see all my book trailers with original music by my singer/songwriter brother JS Meyer)
http:// www.bebo.com/kathrynmeyerG
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1019954486
http://www.authorsden.com/kathrynmeyergriffith
http://www.jacketflap.com/K.Griffith
http://www.shoutlife.com/kathrynmeyergriffith
http://www.goodreads.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith
http://romancewriterandreader.ning.com/profile/KathrynMeyerGriffith
http://romancebookjunction.ning.com/profile/kathrynmeyergriffith

E-mail me at rdgriff@htc.net I love to hear from my readers.

Everybody Snoopy Dance!

2011-09-09T06:00:00.000-04:00

Snoopy dancing. I see this on loops and blogs, I've actually posted it a time or two. I've even done it. Yeah, I love the Snoopy dance. It makes me laugh, makes me happy. I watch Charlie Brown specials just to see the Snoopy dance.

What makes me Snoopy dance? Whenever any of you have good news, I break into the Snoopy dance. Finished a story? Snoopy dance. Reach a word goal? Snoopy dance. Sell a story? Say it with me now,Snoopy dance.

Writing has given me several reasons to break out into a Snoopy dance whenever I want. I'd forgotten how much I loved doing it as a kid. I like how silly it looks. I love not caring how silly it looks. I don't want to be the mature adult all the time. Funny, that's not what I was saying when I was a kid, but I digress. Come on everybody, let your hair down, untuck your shirt, throw your head back and dance! Take a chance at looking ridiculous! I want everybody to send me any good news you have. Snoopy dancing is best when you have a reason to celebrate. Trust me, you'll feel great!

To Critique or Not Critique

2011-09-08T13:27:00.003-04:00

I always wondered why I never saw the end of Christi's stories in critique group or Kristi's. Until I finished my book. And now I get it. There comes a time in your manuscript where you stop needing input because you, as the writer, have got the story and it's flowing to the end. And getting feedback will only hinder your forward progress.

Early in my book--about the first half or so, I needed the voices of my crit partners. I needed the validation, the inspiration, and the fixes for things gone wrong. But then the writing took off and I stopped relying on the feedback. And this is in no way a reflection of my crit partners, it's just a part of the process.

Now, I've sent my manuscript out to beta readers to see if I got the whole enchilada right. Enough cheese here? More sauce there?

But soon, I'll be starting a new book and then I'm going to need my crit buddies again, just to make sure I'm getting it right and not wasting time on drivel.

Tell me, is there a stage in your writing when you stop relying on your cp's as much as you did earlier?

*the cartoon is honor of Bix ;) I think I'm going to have to get a coffee mug or tee shirt with that on it.

Strange Happenings

2011-09-07T09:09:00.000-04:00

So, it's been a weird few days at the Knight house. On Friday, I was playing in our pool with the kiddo when my foot caught on the bottom and I sprained the heck out of my ankle. Five days later it's still a little swollen and very stiff - no real pain, so that's a good thing. Monday was my birthday - and a national holiday! - but the day didn't feel like either. Probably because I'm still not getting around all that easily. But it felt like the day was holding it's breath and waiting. Today is the kiddo's open house before pre-school starts on Friday and still that waiting feeling is hanging around.

In the meantime, I have one book out on submission and I'm waiting - could that be the reason for the weirdness floating around? - to start the next book. I'm not totally in waiting. I've done my character sketches, have a rough outline of what I think will happen down. I'm ready to write, but not writing just yet. Partially because bebe's school hasn't started and partially because I just can't sit at a desk for long periods of time yet - have to keep the ankle elevated.

So, I'm waiting. And it seems the world is waiting with me. Does that ever happen to you?