Sisters by Megan

I've had some hectic days lately. After attending the Georgia Romance Writers' conference, Moonlight and Magnolias, I spent three days with my sister, who lives in the Atlanta area. At the M&Ms, I presented two workshops. At my sister's house, I ate and slept and watched my Cardinals baseball team on TV (Y'all knew I was going to mention them, right?) and talked with my niece and nephew and my sister. I played with her grandchildren, and I walked with the new baby until he fell asleep in my arms. Is there anything more precious than a sleeping baby? (Except of course for my two kids, although they've long ago left the newborn stage behind.) Even after my niece rounded up her children and went home and I changed into my pajamas, I could still smell that newborn baby scent on my skin. What a lovely way to fall asleep.
NOTE--I did not have to stay up with him all night, or change his diaper, or soothe his tummy ache, or any of the myriad chores a new parent has to do. Trust me, I have not forgotten how tiring that is, and in no way am I wishing I was going through that again! But I love being an aunt, who hands the baby back when he cries. lol

When my sister and I were younger, we shared a bedroom for many years. I wore her hand-me-downs. We had sort of matching dresses (she had blue velvet and I had red velvet for Christmas, but they were the same style. The next year, I wore the blue velvet.) We bickered, we played together, we endured the same upbringing, we went to the same schools. There's so much about me I don't have to explain to her because she experienced it also. Our father passed away when we were young, and our lives changed. As the youngest, I had some of her teachers, and I had the "legacy" of all my siblings to live up to -- or to live down, lol. [waving to a certain sibling!]

This past week, I started out wearing my writer hat, presenting workshops, meeting other writers who I hope become new friends, and promoting my work. Then I was simply myself, enjoying my far-away family. I thoroughly enjoyed both ends of my vacation, and now I'm more than ready to be home.

I hope this post makes y'all think of the happy moments of childhood.
Megan

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Me among the birdies

I swore I would never Tweet. Actually, I doubted I was mentally capable of mastering this new weird art form.

A few years ago, I tried. I set up an account and tried to figure out what to do with it. Who would I Tweet to? What wonders of the modern world would reach me via Twitter? How many zillion books would I sell with my brilliant twiddling and twaddling?

For about fifteen minutes, I clicked on things and got nowhere. Frustrated, I quit.

Recently, I’ve been reissuing some of my beloved older books, including Regencies and mysteries, in digital editions. (Quick sales pitch: On my website, www.jacquelinediamond.com, they’re all listed on the right side of the Books page, with links. Some as low as 99 cents.)

Now the hard work: publicity. A friend of mine, legal thriller author Rebecca Forster, insisted I learn to Twitter. I cried, moaned and threw a tantrum, but it was no use. She stood firm.

This is just a theory, but either someone improved Twitter or my brain has become magically attuned to the digital age. I figured out what to do in about five minutes. Well, it took me a day or so to find Rebecca. She had a little trouble finding me too, but we finally got our acts together and now we chirp at each other regularly.

Next issue: how to write messages in 140 letters and spaces or less. Fortunately, I had experience that made Twitter look verbose.

During my newspaper days, I not only reported but also did some editing in an age when there were still street editions with screaming headlines. One day, I was working on a copy desk and got handed a story about a Las Vegas brothel persuading the IRS to treat its payments to prostitutes as a business expense.

The headline requirement: three lines, each no more than 10 letters and spaces. Here’s what I wrote:

Wages of

Sin Said

Deductible

The editor liked it. He came out and praised my 20-something-year-old self. I remember it clearly 30-plus years later.

And so, this past month, I began singing with the birdies. My handle, in case you’re wondering, is @Jacquediamond. I post writing tips, news about writing and publishing, and stuff about my books. If you Tweet me, I’ll Tweet you back.

Thanks, Rebecca, for pushing me out of the nest.