I'm not ready for October to end. Yes, my kids have Halloween costumes which is better than last year when I was trying to find one on this day. But I have a book due Nov. 15. I still have a lot of work to do on it so that my editor doesn't want to beat me with a stick. I have revisions due Thursday, but those will be done today. I'm a crazy person, but we talked about that a while ago.
I'm also still patiently waiting for my box of books. I received the author copies of The Christmas Date weeks ago. I haven't yet seen Hart's Victory.
My daughter needs it for a book report. She's scanning the porch more than me. Well, that and planning the fifty million places I need to drive her this week. (Uh, honey? Book due. Can't get it done with butt in the car. Need butt in chair at computer.)
The other daughter's book report form got eaten--my house makes homework assignments vanish. It's amazing. We don't have a dog, the carpet eats them. I'm serious. I need to contact her teacher. God help me if I forget.
So November's on its way in and I'm realizing that I've cut things close. I can do it. Four deadlines, one already down, and as of today, two to go. Oh, I'll be in Philly for 3 nights, Nov. 7-9, taking those out of the equation. I'm there for a jouralism convention where I'm writing and judging.
BTW, although I haven't yet seen my book, Harriet Klausner has. She wrote a review on her blog. http://genregoroundreviews.blogspot.com/
For fun, I'm posting the review here. It's my first book outside the American line (The Christmas Date is my 15th for American since my debut in Oct. 200o). So here's #16.
Hart's Victory
Michele Dunaway
Harlequin NASCAR,
Dec 2007, $5.99
ISBN: 9780373217823
Single mom Kellie Thompson’s beloved son Charlie is battling for his life against cancer. Charlie is a rabid NASCAR fan; so when a NASCAR camp for terminally ill children is arranged, Kellie insures her child attends.Charlie's hero NASCAR driver Hart Hampton has been in a slump so is relegated to the charity event for the terminally ill.
After meeting mother and son, Hart agrees with Charlie that he and Kellie are perfect for one another. However, she rejects his attention although she is attracted to him; her focus is Charlie. Hart wants both in his life, but though he won the kid over and the mom recognizes he is a caring soul, she still refuses his overtures; Charlie comes in first, second and third.
The romance places second and NASCAR shows up third as the star of this heart-wrenching tale is Charlie as he fights for his life yet wants the best for his mom whom he believes is his hero Hart. The three prime players are fully developed leading to readers feeling deep emotions almost as if they know the ailing child and care for him as much as Hart does. Michele Dunaway provides an angst-laden five tissue box character driven tale.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
My sick "child"
Okay, so Da Vinci isn't a real, human child. He's a cockatiel, a little gray bird with a yellow head and orange cheeks. He is 20 years old, which is ancient, and he's never been to a vet because he's been healthy his whole life ... until now.
Recently he started pulling his feathers out. So I tracked down an avian vet (across town) and scheduled an appointment. But getting him there was no easy task because he doesn't willingly come out of his cage. I had to reach into the cage with a towel and grab him, then stuff him into a shoebox for transport. (This was the method recommended to me by the vet.) Let me tell you, you've never heard a shriek until you've heard an angry cockatiel stuffed into a shoebox. When I walked into the vet's waiting room, another client heard the commotion and asked, "My God, what's in there?"
With the help of an assistant who held him (with a towel, like I did, because he bites), the vet checked him out and said he appeared remarkably healthy for an old bird, and his plucking problem was probably nutrition related. Or he might be going senile, but I was hoping for the first option. For twenty years I've been feeding him the wrong things.
So now he gets a healthier diet than I do. I offer him all kinds of fruits and veggies, Cheerios, whole-wheat crackers, corn, beans, meat, cheese, plus a kind of bird chow. He eats the chow. He's afraid of everything else.
But anyway, he's doing better. It's been almost a week since he plucked any feathers. But he's still mad at me for the shoebox incident, and he hisses every time I get near his cage.
Stuff like this is no fun while it's going on. I honestly was afraid the bird was going to have a heart attack and expire in that shoebox. But now that it's over, I'm thinking I have to use this in a book. And that is the wonderful thing about writing. It gives me a constructive use for all the crazy stuff that happens in my life. I mean, you can't make this stuff up!
Kara
ONE STUBBORN TEXAN, September '07
GOOD HUSBAND MATERIAL, January '08
RELUCTANT PARTNERS, June '08
Recently he started pulling his feathers out. So I tracked down an avian vet (across town) and scheduled an appointment. But getting him there was no easy task because he doesn't willingly come out of his cage. I had to reach into the cage with a towel and grab him, then stuff him into a shoebox for transport. (This was the method recommended to me by the vet.) Let me tell you, you've never heard a shriek until you've heard an angry cockatiel stuffed into a shoebox. When I walked into the vet's waiting room, another client heard the commotion and asked, "My God, what's in there?"
With the help of an assistant who held him (with a towel, like I did, because he bites), the vet checked him out and said he appeared remarkably healthy for an old bird, and his plucking problem was probably nutrition related. Or he might be going senile, but I was hoping for the first option. For twenty years I've been feeding him the wrong things.
So now he gets a healthier diet than I do. I offer him all kinds of fruits and veggies, Cheerios, whole-wheat crackers, corn, beans, meat, cheese, plus a kind of bird chow. He eats the chow. He's afraid of everything else.
But anyway, he's doing better. It's been almost a week since he plucked any feathers. But he's still mad at me for the shoebox incident, and he hisses every time I get near his cage.
Stuff like this is no fun while it's going on. I honestly was afraid the bird was going to have a heart attack and expire in that shoebox. But now that it's over, I'm thinking I have to use this in a book. And that is the wonderful thing about writing. It gives me a constructive use for all the crazy stuff that happens in my life. I mean, you can't make this stuff up!
Kara
ONE STUBBORN TEXAN, September '07
GOOD HUSBAND MATERIAL, January '08
RELUCTANT PARTNERS, June '08
Friday, October 26, 2007
When Words Fail
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I can’t think of the right word for something. I’ll say to my husband, “Would you mind taking a look at the thingamabob? It won’t stay closed.” (As you know, he’s not exactly Mr. FixIt, but he can handle most of the little stuff.)
If I’m lucky, he knows exactly what I mean. If not, I get a blank look. So I try again. “You know, that whatsit under the counter in the laundry room?”
“Oh,” he says. “That thingamabob.”
We writers are particular about our craft. We would never substitute the word thingamabob for the correct word (except when a character might use that word in dialogue). Can you imagine? Editors and readers would have fits!
Writers choose words carefully. When a needed word fails to come to mind it can be terribly frustrating. Luckily, fellow writer friends are there to help. If they don’t know, either, or if I don’t want to bother them, I turn to a reverse dictionary some kind soul once mentioned on one of the writing loops.
At this wonderful website you can actually find the word you want by typing in its meaning. When I needed the name of a particular kind of bench for my March 2008 book, I typed in “bench with upholstered seat.” The word I sought was at the top of a list of possibilities: banquette. Problem solved in mere seconds!
If you’re interested in checking out this little gem of a site, here’s the address: http://www.onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml
Now it’s your turn to share. Are there any useful websites you recommend?
Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007
If I’m lucky, he knows exactly what I mean. If not, I get a blank look. So I try again. “You know, that whatsit under the counter in the laundry room?”
“Oh,” he says. “That thingamabob.”
We writers are particular about our craft. We would never substitute the word thingamabob for the correct word (except when a character might use that word in dialogue). Can you imagine? Editors and readers would have fits!
Writers choose words carefully. When a needed word fails to come to mind it can be terribly frustrating. Luckily, fellow writer friends are there to help. If they don’t know, either, or if I don’t want to bother them, I turn to a reverse dictionary some kind soul once mentioned on one of the writing loops.
At this wonderful website you can actually find the word you want by typing in its meaning. When I needed the name of a particular kind of bench for my March 2008 book, I typed in “bench with upholstered seat.” The word I sought was at the top of a list of possibilities: banquette. Problem solved in mere seconds!
If you’re interested in checking out this little gem of a site, here’s the address: http://www.onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml
Now it’s your turn to share. Are there any useful websites you recommend?
Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
All Work and No Play . . .
. . . makes a Jane a dull girl, or so the saying says. It also makes me a stressed-out basket case.
October has been an all-work, no-play kind of month. I’ve had a full-time albeit temporary job and I’m working on my next Harlequin American Romance. For both family and professional reasons, I’ve also had to go out of town for three consecutive weekends.
Of course the great thing about a temporary job is its temporariness. Much as I’ve enjoyed being a fill-in personnel administrator, I’m counting down the days to October 31, when I go back to being a full-time writer. And I won’t be sorry to trade in the pantyhose for a pair of sweat pants either.
When I came across this picture of Winnie the Pooh and friends playing in the autumn leaves, I was inspired to schedule a fun day to help me make that transition. Doesn’t this picture make you want to take a day off and have some fun? So November 1 is officially Lee’s Play Day.
I don’t plan to play in the leaves, but I’m already giving some thought to what I will do, starting with a walk on the beach. I’m lucky to live near the ocean and like to take advantage of it every chance I get. I’ve also booked a massage appointment for mid-morning.
Sometime during the day there’ll be a trip to the bookstore, and maybe an hour or two spent prowling through a couple of my favorite secondhand shops. Not looking for anything in particular. Just looking.
My day will wrap up by going out for dinner with my husband, because a play day does not involve time in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure there’s even a law against it.
I’m not sure what else I’ll do but I love to try new things. What do you like to do for fun and relaxation? I’m open to suggestions . . . as long as I don’t have to wear pantyhose!
Lee
www.leemckenzie.com
thewritersideoflife.blogspot.com
October has been an all-work, no-play kind of month. I’ve had a full-time albeit temporary job and I’m working on my next Harlequin American Romance. For both family and professional reasons, I’ve also had to go out of town for three consecutive weekends.
Of course the great thing about a temporary job is its temporariness. Much as I’ve enjoyed being a fill-in personnel administrator, I’m counting down the days to October 31, when I go back to being a full-time writer. And I won’t be sorry to trade in the pantyhose for a pair of sweat pants either.
When I came across this picture of Winnie the Pooh and friends playing in the autumn leaves, I was inspired to schedule a fun day to help me make that transition. Doesn’t this picture make you want to take a day off and have some fun? So November 1 is officially Lee’s Play Day.I don’t plan to play in the leaves, but I’m already giving some thought to what I will do, starting with a walk on the beach. I’m lucky to live near the ocean and like to take advantage of it every chance I get. I’ve also booked a massage appointment for mid-morning.
Sometime during the day there’ll be a trip to the bookstore, and maybe an hour or two spent prowling through a couple of my favorite secondhand shops. Not looking for anything in particular. Just looking.
My day will wrap up by going out for dinner with my husband, because a play day does not involve time in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure there’s even a law against it.
I’m not sure what else I’ll do but I love to try new things. What do you like to do for fun and relaxation? I’m open to suggestions . . . as long as I don’t have to wear pantyhose!
Lee
www.leemckenzie.com
thewritersideoflife.blogspot.com
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Mars and Venus Never More Apparrent
Men and women are different. Yeah, we all know that. Different in the way we look, feel, and think. That became very apparent to me the other day in a quite humorous situation I just have to share with everyone.
I was invited to speak at a local Christian writers group by one of my good friends. This is a multi-genre writing group and as a result, boasts several male members. One of the men was wearing a ball cap with the saying, "Center for Domestic Preparedness" on it. Now quick, tell me, what do you think that means?
If you're like me, and EVERY SINGLE WOMAN IN THE ROOM you figure it has something to do with marriage. A joke maybe. I was envisioning a place where men go and prepare themselves before entering the noble and honorable state of matrimony.
Wrong.
As the fellow wearing the hat explained to us when one woman made a comment, the center is part of a military base in California and domestic preparedness is a term for the training soldiers go through in order to ready themselves in the event of an attack on the U.S. Could anything be more different than marriage?
When every woman chimed in that she, too, thought the saying was marriage related, the men there looked at us as if we were freaks or alien beings. We, on the other hand, looked at each other and burst out laughing. It really was funny.
So, I guess when it comes to sayings on baseball caps, women truly are from Venus and men from Mars.
Cathy Mc
"His Only Wife" 6/07 Harlequin American
"The Family Plan" 2/08 Harlequin American
www.cathymcdavid
I was invited to speak at a local Christian writers group by one of my good friends. This is a multi-genre writing group and as a result, boasts several male members. One of the men was wearing a ball cap with the saying, "Center for Domestic Preparedness" on it. Now quick, tell me, what do you think that means?
If you're like me, and EVERY SINGLE WOMAN IN THE ROOM you figure it has something to do with marriage. A joke maybe. I was envisioning a place where men go and prepare themselves before entering the noble and honorable state of matrimony.
Wrong.
As the fellow wearing the hat explained to us when one woman made a comment, the center is part of a military base in California and domestic preparedness is a term for the training soldiers go through in order to ready themselves in the event of an attack on the U.S. Could anything be more different than marriage?
When every woman chimed in that she, too, thought the saying was marriage related, the men there looked at us as if we were freaks or alien beings. We, on the other hand, looked at each other and burst out laughing. It really was funny.
So, I guess when it comes to sayings on baseball caps, women truly are from Venus and men from Mars.
Cathy Mc
"His Only Wife" 6/07 Harlequin American
"The Family Plan" 2/08 Harlequin American
www.cathymcdavid
Monday, October 22, 2007
Hot Dog, Anyone?
Friday night was wrestling parent concession night. For those of you who haven’t been blessed with this activity, it means that last Friday was the wrestling parents’ turn to help sell concessions during the Friday night Varsity Football Game. We didn’t actually volunteer for this job. The parent liaison called our home late one night and my husband caved in. You know how it goes-every parent in a high school booster club has to do their part.
There were twelve of us in there, each given stations. Some had ‘nachos’. Others had ‘popcorn’ or ‘Gatorade’. Another was the runner, passing hot dogs and pretzels to the ticket windows. One poor gal had the thankless job of hot chocolate maker (it was cold and windy on Friday night). My husband and I were given Window #2.
The job was pretty easy. Basically, tons of people line up, tell us want they want, we make sure they get it, and take their money and give them change.
That’s how it was supposed to go.
In reality it was like something out of an old Saturday Day Night Live ‘Cheeseburger!’ episode. Things moved at a frantic pace. Tom and I each waited on kids and parents and got pretty good at yelling out orders. Well, enough to do any diner waitress proud. It was noisy. It was windy. I had to be loud. “Two hot chocolates, one popcorn, one walking taco, and a Pepsi!” And then I had to add it all up in my head. And give correct change.
Of course, we had lots of people who changed their minds. Two popcorns. No one hot dog. No, two pieces of pizza. Don’t even get me started on the kiddos with one wadded up dollar in their hands and twenty kinds of candy bars to choose from. The game finished at 9:45. We got out of there about 10:30-anxious to get off our feet and drink some hot tea. I had lost my voice during the last two minutes of the game!
What did I learn? 1) All of us parents, no matter what we do for a living, can come together and make a stand run like clockwork. No egos can be involved in the tricky dance of delivering three plastic containers filled with steaming cheese sauce and over-flowing nacho chips to antsy eight year olds! I got pretty good at telling the president of our local bank to hurry up with the purple Gatorade.
2) Kids, by and large, are polite. They stood in line and didn’t push and shove. They asked for their order politely. They said thank you. Even the kids who wore letter jackets. Even the kids with the earrings through their eyebrows. Even, uh, my kids.
Finally, I learned what I sometimes forget-that there’s a whole lot of volunteers out there who work really hard and deserve my thanks. So, here’s to volunteers!
This week, I’m going to rest for a little bit—finish a book! Because, well, the spirit sale is next weekend and I’m on the list for that, too.
Any one else have a volunteer story?
Shelley
There were twelve of us in there, each given stations. Some had ‘nachos’. Others had ‘popcorn’ or ‘Gatorade’. Another was the runner, passing hot dogs and pretzels to the ticket windows. One poor gal had the thankless job of hot chocolate maker (it was cold and windy on Friday night). My husband and I were given Window #2.
The job was pretty easy. Basically, tons of people line up, tell us want they want, we make sure they get it, and take their money and give them change.
That’s how it was supposed to go.
In reality it was like something out of an old Saturday Day Night Live ‘Cheeseburger!’ episode. Things moved at a frantic pace. Tom and I each waited on kids and parents and got pretty good at yelling out orders. Well, enough to do any diner waitress proud. It was noisy. It was windy. I had to be loud. “Two hot chocolates, one popcorn, one walking taco, and a Pepsi!” And then I had to add it all up in my head. And give correct change.
Of course, we had lots of people who changed their minds. Two popcorns. No one hot dog. No, two pieces of pizza. Don’t even get me started on the kiddos with one wadded up dollar in their hands and twenty kinds of candy bars to choose from. The game finished at 9:45. We got out of there about 10:30-anxious to get off our feet and drink some hot tea. I had lost my voice during the last two minutes of the game!
What did I learn? 1) All of us parents, no matter what we do for a living, can come together and make a stand run like clockwork. No egos can be involved in the tricky dance of delivering three plastic containers filled with steaming cheese sauce and over-flowing nacho chips to antsy eight year olds! I got pretty good at telling the president of our local bank to hurry up with the purple Gatorade.
2) Kids, by and large, are polite. They stood in line and didn’t push and shove. They asked for their order politely. They said thank you. Even the kids who wore letter jackets. Even the kids with the earrings through their eyebrows. Even, uh, my kids.
Finally, I learned what I sometimes forget-that there’s a whole lot of volunteers out there who work really hard and deserve my thanks. So, here’s to volunteers!
This week, I’m going to rest for a little bit—finish a book! Because, well, the spirit sale is next weekend and I’m on the list for that, too.
Any one else have a volunteer story?
Shelley
Sunday, October 21, 2007
My Cousin's Wedding-2
I added the link in the comments in the post below, but figured it would be easier if I just posted a picture of the plane we flew in to get to Greensburg, IN.
Michele
Michele
Saturday, October 20, 2007
My cousin's wedding
I'm in wedding mode. Last September I attended the wedding of Kate McMenamy, who I have known since she was in first grade. I was her afterschool and summer nanny for almost 6 years.
My cousin, who is my age, married for the second time last Sunday. Since our mothers were sisters, we've been close since being in diapers. The wedding occurred Sunday afternoon in Batesville, IN. Many of you may recognize Batesville, for I've set books near there: Legally Tender and my upcoming The Marriage Recipe (April 2008).
Since I'm on deadline and had to work on Monday, there was no way I could do the drive up and back. I left at 6 PM that night, and driving would have gotten back to St. Louis around midnight. Instead, I flew.
Well, not me personally, but for a little bit my daughter got to fly the Diamond Star four-seater we took across the country. The hero of The Marriage Recipe is a pilot. One of my former students is a commercial pilot and he helped out wwth all the research for the book.
While in The Marriage Recipe I used a Cessna, I have to say I liked this plane better. You actually step on the wing to get in and the windows are bigger--you pull the glass down to close the plane. We left Spirit of St. Louis Airport and headed for Greensburg, where my cousin had someone waiting with her van to pick us up and get us back to her house. We arrived on time, the wedding was beautiful, my cousin gorgeous and happy, and we were back on the ground in St. Louis by eight.
I'm a nervous flyer, but we went right over the Arch and I've never been able to see my hometown so well (amazing at 6,000 feet). The skies were kind and one the way home the lights below contrasted with dark patches. I'm spoiled now. No security, pilot I know--great way to travel.
I have feeling you may see more pilots in future books...in The Marriage Recipe Colin takes Rachel to dinner--in Chicago. Ah, the romance.
Michele
My cousin, who is my age, married for the second time last Sunday. Since our mothers were sisters, we've been close since being in diapers. The wedding occurred Sunday afternoon in Batesville, IN. Many of you may recognize Batesville, for I've set books near there: Legally Tender and my upcoming The Marriage Recipe (April 2008).
Since I'm on deadline and had to work on Monday, there was no way I could do the drive up and back. I left at 6 PM that night, and driving would have gotten back to St. Louis around midnight. Instead, I flew.
Well, not me personally, but for a little bit my daughter got to fly the Diamond Star four-seater we took across the country. The hero of The Marriage Recipe is a pilot. One of my former students is a commercial pilot and he helped out wwth all the research for the book.
While in The Marriage Recipe I used a Cessna, I have to say I liked this plane better. You actually step on the wing to get in and the windows are bigger--you pull the glass down to close the plane. We left Spirit of St. Louis Airport and headed for Greensburg, where my cousin had someone waiting with her van to pick us up and get us back to her house. We arrived on time, the wedding was beautiful, my cousin gorgeous and happy, and we were back on the ground in St. Louis by eight.
I'm a nervous flyer, but we went right over the Arch and I've never been able to see my hometown so well (amazing at 6,000 feet). The skies were kind and one the way home the lights below contrasted with dark patches. I'm spoiled now. No security, pilot I know--great way to travel.
I have feeling you may see more pilots in future books...in The Marriage Recipe Colin takes Rachel to dinner--in Chicago. Ah, the romance.
Michele
Friday, October 19, 2007
I love autumn, but yikes!
Fall is one of my favorite seasons. This year the leaves are especially vivid for the Seattle area. Probably because it’s chilly. more like a typical Midwest October than Seattle’s usual mild weather. About a week ago we turned on the furnace. The thing went on and off and on and off. Neither my husband nor I is mechanically inclined or do-it-yourselfers (you did not want to be at my house the one time he installed a new toilet!), so we called for help. The expert who came out replaced a part and recommended a good cleaning. He also expressed grave doubts that our furnace would live much longer. (It’s really old!) a few days later the cleaning guy showed up, About an hour into vacuuming the vents he noticed what the repair man had not: a huge hole in the exhaust pipe. This cavity was spitting toxic fumes into our house—and we didn’t even know it! Cleaning guy promptly disconnected the burner. He also charged us for his services, which were no longer needed. Ouch!
Next we invited two furnace experts into our home for advice and bids on a replacement furnace. The old one was oil, and we hoped that maybe we could switch without too much expense. Wrong! Oil it is—bio-diesel, which is better for the planet than regular oil. It’ll be another week or so before the furnace is installed. Thank goodness for the fireplace insert in the family room, and for portable heaters.
New furnace or not, from now on were having the thing serviced every year as a preventative.
How does this apply to writing (you so knew it would)? Hint: the clue is the annual servicing.
I’m a goal-setter. (If you don’t set goals, how will you know what to aim for?) I set annual, five-year, and even ten-year goals. But it’s been awhile since I’ve done any long-range planning. So, along with the annual furnace checkup, I have made a pact with myself to update both my short -and long-range goals once a year. In December, when I’m thinking about the new year.
What about you? Do you have goals? Do you update them on a regular basis? I’d love to know.
Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007
Next we invited two furnace experts into our home for advice and bids on a replacement furnace. The old one was oil, and we hoped that maybe we could switch without too much expense. Wrong! Oil it is—bio-diesel, which is better for the planet than regular oil. It’ll be another week or so before the furnace is installed. Thank goodness for the fireplace insert in the family room, and for portable heaters.
New furnace or not, from now on were having the thing serviced every year as a preventative.
How does this apply to writing (you so knew it would)? Hint: the clue is the annual servicing.
I’m a goal-setter. (If you don’t set goals, how will you know what to aim for?) I set annual, five-year, and even ten-year goals. But it’s been awhile since I’ve done any long-range planning. So, along with the annual furnace checkup, I have made a pact with myself to update both my short -and long-range goals once a year. In December, when I’m thinking about the new year.
What about you? Do you have goals? Do you update them on a regular basis? I’d love to know.
Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Night and Day
I freely admit that I'm a nightowl and have been for as long as I remember. The story goes that, before I was adopted at the age of 7 weeks, the nuns in the hospital would wait until all the other babies were asleep, then they would get me up and play with me. After I was adopted, my dad worked second shift, so it wasn't unusual that I was kept up late so he could see me at the end of his workday. As a young child, I would "read" books by the light of my nightlight, long after bedtime. I'd still rather stay up long past the time everyone is asleep and have my alone time, when I can get done the things that need doing.
But life doesn't always comply with our internal clocks, so I work around it and try to compromise, going to bed later than I should, getting up when I have to, and struggling with the loss of sleep later in the day. Today was one of those "struggle" days, so I managed to sneak a two hour nap this evening. Which of course meant that I'd be late posting to the blog.
I know a lot of nightowls, many of them writers. Michele Dunnaway mentioned in an earlier blog post that she writes in spurts when she has chunks of time. I have a feeling that many of us do the same. With other priorities, we have to sometimes save the things we love doing the most until later. I hope that means that we do them better because of that.
Are you a nightowl like me, saving your reading or writing until the day has settled into night and you can treat yourself to that quiet time? Or do you jump out of bed early, eager to start the day, with special times you've built in for your treats? Do you read/write during the day, or do you save it for later? By choice or by circumstance?
But life doesn't always comply with our internal clocks, so I work around it and try to compromise, going to bed later than I should, getting up when I have to, and struggling with the loss of sleep later in the day. Today was one of those "struggle" days, so I managed to sneak a two hour nap this evening. Which of course meant that I'd be late posting to the blog.
I know a lot of nightowls, many of them writers. Michele Dunnaway mentioned in an earlier blog post that she writes in spurts when she has chunks of time. I have a feeling that many of us do the same. With other priorities, we have to sometimes save the things we love doing the most until later. I hope that means that we do them better because of that.
Are you a nightowl like me, saving your reading or writing until the day has settled into night and you can treat yourself to that quiet time? Or do you jump out of bed early, eager to start the day, with special times you've built in for your treats? Do you read/write during the day, or do you save it for later? By choice or by circumstance?
Trick or Treat!
As a self-confessed chocoholic, I have to admit that when it comes to Halloween, I'm all about the candy.
Growing up, I also liked the fun of dressing up, the scariness of going door to door in the dark, and the anticipation of the goodies I'd get in my candy sack.
Over the years, I'd dressed in a lot of different costumes, from Cinderella to a space-age robot, a ballerina to a bum, a cowboy to Count Dracula, and a bunch of other characters in between.
My most lasting Halloween memory didn't happen on Halloween itself, but the night before. One Mischief Night, my friends and I decided the time had come to investigate the local haunted mansion, an old, decaying house just a couple of blocks away. The house had sat empty for as long as any of us could remember, and year after year, it became more run-down and ratty-looking--perfect for Mischief Night marauders.
We set out with a few kids, a couple of flashlights, and a whole lot of manufactured nerve. Truthfully, I think the closer we got to the house, the more we all wanted to go home. But no one wanted to be first to back out.
One of the boys found an open window at ground level
--lucky for us, huh?--and lowered himself into the cellar. He dragged over an old wooden chair he found inside and, one by one, we followed, until we all stood in a tight circle in a cold, dank, cobweb-draped room that echoed with the scrabbling of rats' toenails and the flapping of bats' wings....
Or so it seemed to us!
The adventure didn't last long. At the first whimpered "I want out," we all rushed back to the window, climbed through it, and ran home.
Give us a break, though--we were only eight years old!
Now it's your turn. What's your scariest, funniest, or favorite memory of Halloween?
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com
Growing up, I also liked the fun of dressing up, the scariness of going door to door in the dark, and the anticipation of the goodies I'd get in my candy sack.
Over the years, I'd dressed in a lot of different costumes, from Cinderella to a space-age robot, a ballerina to a bum, a cowboy to Count Dracula, and a bunch of other characters in between.
My most lasting Halloween memory didn't happen on Halloween itself, but the night before. One Mischief Night, my friends and I decided the time had come to investigate the local haunted mansion, an old, decaying house just a couple of blocks away. The house had sat empty for as long as any of us could remember, and year after year, it became more run-down and ratty-looking--perfect for Mischief Night marauders.
We set out with a few kids, a couple of flashlights, and a whole lot of manufactured nerve. Truthfully, I think the closer we got to the house, the more we all wanted to go home. But no one wanted to be first to back out.
One of the boys found an open window at ground level
--lucky for us, huh?--and lowered himself into the cellar. He dragged over an old wooden chair he found inside and, one by one, we followed, until we all stood in a tight circle in a cold, dank, cobweb-draped room that echoed with the scrabbling of rats' toenails and the flapping of bats' wings....
Or so it seemed to us!
The adventure didn't last long. At the first whimpered "I want out," we all rushed back to the window, climbed through it, and ran home.
Give us a break, though--we were only eight years old!
Now it's your turn. What's your scariest, funniest, or favorite memory of Halloween?
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Power Foods
Following is a list of power foods I came across in a women's health article:
Apples, Avocados, Beans, Berries, Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, Canola Oil, Carrots, Cold Water Fatty Fish, Dark Chocolate, Garlic, Kiwifruit, Nuts, Olives/Olive Oil, Oranges, Pumpkin, Red Grapes, Skim Milk, Soy, Spices, Spinach, Tea, Tomatoes, Whole Grains, Yogurt. (All good foods that are also known to help prevent cancer)
Here's what I consume on a weekly basis:
Canola Oil, Dark Chocolate, Nuts, Spices, Garlic, Whole Grains, V-8 juice and orange juice. As for the others…hit and miss throughout the month.
I have to confess that the older I become the more and more I "think" about what I eat. Even so, I'll never turn down an order of chips and salsa from Chili's or potato skins from Fridays. Those foods make me "Happy" although they aren't healthy--well, the salsa is good for me I guess.
What about Happy Foods? I never come across articles on various foods that improve a person's mood. Any recommendations on healthy foods that put a smile on one's face and relieve stress? Right now my daily square of dark chocolate is my only defense against stress and makes me smile--but one measly square doesn't maintain the mood all day long.
Apples, Avocados, Beans, Berries, Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, Canola Oil, Carrots, Cold Water Fatty Fish, Dark Chocolate, Garlic, Kiwifruit, Nuts, Olives/Olive Oil, Oranges, Pumpkin, Red Grapes, Skim Milk, Soy, Spices, Spinach, Tea, Tomatoes, Whole Grains, Yogurt. (All good foods that are also known to help prevent cancer)
Here's what I consume on a weekly basis:
Canola Oil, Dark Chocolate, Nuts, Spices, Garlic, Whole Grains, V-8 juice and orange juice. As for the others…hit and miss throughout the month.
I have to confess that the older I become the more and more I "think" about what I eat. Even so, I'll never turn down an order of chips and salsa from Chili's or potato skins from Fridays. Those foods make me "Happy" although they aren't healthy--well, the salsa is good for me I guess.
What about Happy Foods? I never come across articles on various foods that improve a person's mood. Any recommendations on healthy foods that put a smile on one's face and relieve stress? Right now my daily square of dark chocolate is my only defense against stress and makes me smile--but one measly square doesn't maintain the mood all day long.
I keep thinking how productive I could be with my daily writing goals, dealing with the kids, housework and the million other things us women do every day if we were always in a good mood. Then again there's the risk we'd get nothing done because we're content to sit around and eat happy foods all day long!
Happy Reading…and Eating
Marin Thomas
For The Children (Oct 07)
Happy Reading…and Eating
Marin Thomas
For The Children (Oct 07)
Monday, October 15, 2007
What writers have in common
On Saturday, best-selling mystery author Robert Crais spoke to my local chapter (Orange County, California) of Romance Writers of America. You might wonder what the writer of a hardboiled mystery series has in common with a roomful of women -- and a few men -- who tell love stories.
Of course, it’s fun for any audience to hear a personable speaker, and Robert’s darn good-looking too. But he’s blunt about the fact that he has no insights to share re plotting or characterization, because he handles those elements by instinct.
Yet he had an important point to share that resonated with us. It began when someone asked how a guy from Louisiana, whose family by his own account opposed his plans to become a writer, landed in LA and snagged a series of TV writing jobs. And how, from there, he wrote a mystery, The Monkey’s Raincoat, that won awards and launched his best-selling Elvis Cole series.
The answer was one we could all identify with, whether we’re published or not. He didn’t toss off a manuscript and get discovered. He didn’t have a friend or writing teacher or relative who introduced him to an agent.
Instead, he worked hard to learn his craft and faced rejection by submitting. His first two novels failed to sell. The Monkey’s Raincoat got rejected nine times. When it was finally accepted, he had to beat the bushes for publicity because his publisher didn’t do much to promote it.
I’m fortunate enough to know a lot of professional writers. What they all have in common is the same thing Robert Crais displayed: not just talent, not just determination, but courage.
The courage to try new things, to risk failure, and to reinvent ourselves when necessary. That’s one quality working writers – and serious aspiring writers – have to possess, or they fall by the wayside.
Developing this kind of courage helps us understand people who face a variety of situations – illness, the loss of loved ones, family problems, war, layoffs, addictions – and manage to triumph, even if it’s only one day at a time. We channel that understanding into our characters, however humorous or warm-hearted the framework.
So thanks to Robert Crais, to my fellow writers, and especially to our readers for keeping us going!
Of course, it’s fun for any audience to hear a personable speaker, and Robert’s darn good-looking too. But he’s blunt about the fact that he has no insights to share re plotting or characterization, because he handles those elements by instinct.
Yet he had an important point to share that resonated with us. It began when someone asked how a guy from Louisiana, whose family by his own account opposed his plans to become a writer, landed in LA and snagged a series of TV writing jobs. And how, from there, he wrote a mystery, The Monkey’s Raincoat, that won awards and launched his best-selling Elvis Cole series.
The answer was one we could all identify with, whether we’re published or not. He didn’t toss off a manuscript and get discovered. He didn’t have a friend or writing teacher or relative who introduced him to an agent.
Instead, he worked hard to learn his craft and faced rejection by submitting. His first two novels failed to sell. The Monkey’s Raincoat got rejected nine times. When it was finally accepted, he had to beat the bushes for publicity because his publisher didn’t do much to promote it.
I’m fortunate enough to know a lot of professional writers. What they all have in common is the same thing Robert Crais displayed: not just talent, not just determination, but courage.
The courage to try new things, to risk failure, and to reinvent ourselves when necessary. That’s one quality working writers – and serious aspiring writers – have to possess, or they fall by the wayside.
Developing this kind of courage helps us understand people who face a variety of situations – illness, the loss of loved ones, family problems, war, layoffs, addictions – and manage to triumph, even if it’s only one day at a time. We channel that understanding into our characters, however humorous or warm-hearted the framework.
So thanks to Robert Crais, to my fellow writers, and especially to our readers for keeping us going!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Podcasts?
I try - honestly I do - to keep up with technology. I'm a whiz at word processing. I'm also fairly efficient at Excel, Adobe and Publisher. I'm a D- techie, and in the general scheme of things, that's not too bad. I know folks who can't even retrieve their e-mails. But now I'm faced with - ta da! - doing a podcast. Yikes! Roz Fox, Tanya Michaels and I have been asked to interview for a podcast to promote out November Christmas anthology, The Perfect Tree - available soon on the E-Harlequin website. Wow! Talk about being immersed in the twenty-first century.
So, when it comes out, please download it. I had a YouTube that was viewed by about fifty of my favorite family and friends. Dean Koontz had something like a bazillion hits. Maybe I should add some fire-breathing dragons on deranged aliens to my Americans. LOL
So with a podcast under my belt, am I going to have to do the Bluetooth thingie??
Have a great week.
Ann
Ann DeFee
One Magic Christmas, The Perfect Tree, Harlequin American Romance Christmas Anthology, November 2007
Goin' Down to Georgia, Harlequin American Romance, March 2008
So, when it comes out, please download it. I had a YouTube that was viewed by about fifty of my favorite family and friends. Dean Koontz had something like a bazillion hits. Maybe I should add some fire-breathing dragons on deranged aliens to my Americans. LOL
So with a podcast under my belt, am I going to have to do the Bluetooth thingie??
Have a great week.
Ann
Ann DeFee
One Magic Christmas, The Perfect Tree, Harlequin American Romance Christmas Anthology, November 2007
Goin' Down to Georgia, Harlequin American Romance, March 2008
Poke a fork in me . . . I'm done!!
Whew, it's official. Two months into the school year and I'm pooped!! Why didn't anyone tell me teaching is so much harder than writing? LOL!! I did have some fun news, though, in that I'm now certified to teach English, so as soon as a position opens up, I'm hoping that'll be somewhat less stressful than special ed.
On the homefront, all is great. We're getting ready for a Halloween party. I've told each of the kids they can invite ten
friends apiece. Well, Son # 2 hates parties and doesn't want to invite anyone. Son #1 is complaining that he wants to invite fifty friends, and Daughter is complaining she doesn't like her brother's friends, and just wants to invite her own fifty friends. ARGH!!! I'm about to the point that maybe we should spend a nice, quiet Halloween with just family!! (The top pic is of Son #1 & Son #2 with friends at last year's party. They were the Village People. Son #1 was the sailor and Son #2 was the policeman. The bottom pic is of Daughter & friend at last year's party.
)
I went yard-saling yesterday and found an AWESOME sofa. Eight-way, hand-tied springs, cream-colored, embroidered cushions. Loads of extra pillows with tassels. I'm soooo excited. (Especially since it's going in our bedroom, theoretically meaning no kids or dogs!) When I asked the price, I was thinking $300 would be a steal. I got it for $75!!! Only problem is, Daughter programmed the woman's number into her phone and lost the number. GRRRRR. I have all the cushions in my car, but was planning to pay Son #1's friend to haul the actual sofa in his truck. (The woman is moving, and not living in the house.) Let's just say if Daughter doesn't somehow find the number, she may be moving, as well--along with her stinky dogs!!!!! LOL!!!
In other icky news, we've had a moth infestion in the pantry, so I'm off to clean and sort dry goods and squash bugs!!
Happy Early Halloween!!! ;-)
On the homefront, all is great. We're getting ready for a Halloween party. I've told each of the kids they can invite ten
friends apiece. Well, Son # 2 hates parties and doesn't want to invite anyone. Son #1 is complaining that he wants to invite fifty friends, and Daughter is complaining she doesn't like her brother's friends, and just wants to invite her own fifty friends. ARGH!!! I'm about to the point that maybe we should spend a nice, quiet Halloween with just family!! (The top pic is of Son #1 & Son #2 with friends at last year's party. They were the Village People. Son #1 was the sailor and Son #2 was the policeman. The bottom pic is of Daughter & friend at last year's party.
)I went yard-saling yesterday and found an AWESOME sofa. Eight-way, hand-tied springs, cream-colored, embroidered cushions. Loads of extra pillows with tassels. I'm soooo excited. (Especially since it's going in our bedroom, theoretically meaning no kids or dogs!) When I asked the price, I was thinking $300 would be a steal. I got it for $75!!! Only problem is, Daughter programmed the woman's number into her phone and lost the number. GRRRRR. I have all the cushions in my car, but was planning to pay Son #1's friend to haul the actual sofa in his truck. (The woman is moving, and not living in the house.) Let's just say if Daughter doesn't somehow find the number, she may be moving, as well--along with her stinky dogs!!!!! LOL!!!
In other icky news, we've had a moth infestion in the pantry, so I'm off to clean and sort dry goods and squash bugs!!
Happy Early Halloween!!! ;-)
Friday, October 12, 2007
The Busy Life (AKA Insanity--to be read tongue in cheek)
I laughed when I read Kara's last line in her blog below. She wrote, "Really, though, I shouldn't complain. My life is a cakewalk compared to that of an author with a 9-5 job and kids who still manages to write three or more books a year. Now, if you really want something done, ask one of them, not me!"
My answer--Don't ask me. I can't handle anymore. I'm insane enough as it is. I'm a woman who does too much but doesn't know how to stop. There probably has to be a course out there I can take which will help me learn the word no. Of course, I have no time to take it.
Seriously. To deal with the stress that has been constant to my Type A personality, I 've started working out, thus reducing the amount of writing time I have. Not sure how sane that is but writing is giving me desk butt. I'm crazy enough to still believe the fantasy that I can still be as slim as I was in college.
There's that Gnarls Barkley song "Crazy" that goes "I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind..."
There's something pleasant about the fact that I've learned to admit that, somewhere along the line, my life became a coke and a sandwich short of a picnic. People seem to accept my honesty. I emailed my editor these exact words: "Since I'm officially insane, change the last line of my bio to read: five extremely lazy house cats and one rambunctious kitten that rule the roost."
Her reply, "Sure." She knows me. She didn't blink an eye that I have six cats. Thankfully when you count the basement we have over 4,600 sqare feet in our house. That helps a little, but it's still eight cat boxes. Admittedly insane. However, the fact that the kids now have to clean four cat boxes each to get their weekly allowance (while I do nothing) makes me brilliant and smart. Important little known fact: losing your mind doesn't mean you get stupid.
Parties can be fun. Typical conversation starter: So what do you do? Being a writer is like being a doctor or a lawyer--people go "Wow." No one wants to be a teacher. In fact, people hear that I'm a teacher and say, "Wow, you must be crazy to teach high school." If they are a teacher themselves, they shake their head and tell me they couldn't work with anything but elementary kids. And when you find another high school teacher, then the fun really starts. Trust me.
So back to doing too much--somewhere out there someone has my nice, quiet, calm, sane life. The day I gave up trying to find that person and take it back was a pretty freeing moment. As much as I meet myself coming and going, I'm enjoying every minute. I'll see my 15th and 16th book published in December and that's worth all the mayhem that it takes.
So, I'll leave you with the chorus to the Warren Brothers' song "Change" from their album Well Deserved Obsurity. The Warren Brothers are Barely Famous and their show on CMT by that name was positively a riot.
"One of these days
my luck is gonna change
they'll think I'm brillant instead of insane
eveything will be different
but I'll be the same
one of these days my luck is gonna change..."
So if you really want something done, go find that person who's bored out of their mind living my sane life. They could probably use a shake up. As for me, the roller coaster goes on and I'm ready for the ride to continue.
Michele
Ps--on the very serious note--hopefully I haven't insulted anyone with my post. My adoptive mother has a history of mental illness, so I know exactly how hard dealing with it can be. Let me reassure you, it's something I take very seriously.
My answer--Don't ask me. I can't handle anymore. I'm insane enough as it is. I'm a woman who does too much but doesn't know how to stop. There probably has to be a course out there I can take which will help me learn the word no. Of course, I have no time to take it.
Seriously. To deal with the stress that has been constant to my Type A personality, I 've started working out, thus reducing the amount of writing time I have. Not sure how sane that is but writing is giving me desk butt. I'm crazy enough to still believe the fantasy that I can still be as slim as I was in college.
There's that Gnarls Barkley song "Crazy" that goes "I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind..."
There's something pleasant about the fact that I've learned to admit that, somewhere along the line, my life became a coke and a sandwich short of a picnic. People seem to accept my honesty. I emailed my editor these exact words: "Since I'm officially insane, change the last line of my bio to read: five extremely lazy house cats and one rambunctious kitten that rule the roost."
Her reply, "Sure." She knows me. She didn't blink an eye that I have six cats. Thankfully when you count the basement we have over 4,600 sqare feet in our house. That helps a little, but it's still eight cat boxes. Admittedly insane. However, the fact that the kids now have to clean four cat boxes each to get their weekly allowance (while I do nothing) makes me brilliant and smart. Important little known fact: losing your mind doesn't mean you get stupid.
Parties can be fun. Typical conversation starter: So what do you do? Being a writer is like being a doctor or a lawyer--people go "Wow." No one wants to be a teacher. In fact, people hear that I'm a teacher and say, "Wow, you must be crazy to teach high school." If they are a teacher themselves, they shake their head and tell me they couldn't work with anything but elementary kids. And when you find another high school teacher, then the fun really starts. Trust me.
So back to doing too much--somewhere out there someone has my nice, quiet, calm, sane life. The day I gave up trying to find that person and take it back was a pretty freeing moment. As much as I meet myself coming and going, I'm enjoying every minute. I'll see my 15th and 16th book published in December and that's worth all the mayhem that it takes.
So, I'll leave you with the chorus to the Warren Brothers' song "Change" from their album Well Deserved Obsurity. The Warren Brothers are Barely Famous and their show on CMT by that name was positively a riot.
"One of these days
my luck is gonna change
they'll think I'm brillant instead of insane
eveything will be different
but I'll be the same
one of these days my luck is gonna change..."
So if you really want something done, go find that person who's bored out of their mind living my sane life. They could probably use a shake up. As for me, the roller coaster goes on and I'm ready for the ride to continue.
Michele
Ps--on the very serious note--hopefully I haven't insulted anyone with my post. My adoptive mother has a history of mental illness, so I know exactly how hard dealing with it can be. Let me reassure you, it's something I take very seriously.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
If you want something done ...
... ask a busy person to do it.
I love that saying, because it's so true. When I overschedule myself, I have to use my time wisely or I'll miss deadlines or appointments. But during a week when nothing much is going on, I move like a snail on Dramamine. I figure there's always plenty of time, no need to hurry, and so I don't.
When my schedule is packed and my To-Do list won't fit on one sheet of paper, I'm in efficiency mode. If I can multi-task, I do it. And usually, if someone asks me to do something, I say yes because I can always squeeze in one more thing. But if my week stretches ahead of me gloriously empty, I'm reluctant to take on a task because I don't want to spoil the slothfulness of it all.
Peeking at my schedule for the next six weeks is a little bit terrifying. Seems everything I volunteered to do over the past year is coming to roost in October and November--booksignings, contest judging, critiques, family gatherings, travel, tree planting, workshops, pet vaccinations, Halloween and Thanksgiving and ... oh, yes, I have both a book and a proposal due.
So someone explain to me why I volunteered to host a neighborhood wine-tasting party in two weeks? Because I'm busy and I want to be busier? Because I'm just not stressed enough?
Really, though, I shouldn't complain. My life is a cakewalk compared to that of an author with a 9-5 job and kids who still manages to write three or more books a year. Now, if you really want something done, ask one of them, not me!
I love that saying, because it's so true. When I overschedule myself, I have to use my time wisely or I'll miss deadlines or appointments. But during a week when nothing much is going on, I move like a snail on Dramamine. I figure there's always plenty of time, no need to hurry, and so I don't.
When my schedule is packed and my To-Do list won't fit on one sheet of paper, I'm in efficiency mode. If I can multi-task, I do it. And usually, if someone asks me to do something, I say yes because I can always squeeze in one more thing. But if my week stretches ahead of me gloriously empty, I'm reluctant to take on a task because I don't want to spoil the slothfulness of it all.
Peeking at my schedule for the next six weeks is a little bit terrifying. Seems everything I volunteered to do over the past year is coming to roost in October and November--booksignings, contest judging, critiques, family gatherings, travel, tree planting, workshops, pet vaccinations, Halloween and Thanksgiving and ... oh, yes, I have both a book and a proposal due.
So someone explain to me why I volunteered to host a neighborhood wine-tasting party in two weeks? Because I'm busy and I want to be busier? Because I'm just not stressed enough?
Really, though, I shouldn't complain. My life is a cakewalk compared to that of an author with a 9-5 job and kids who still manages to write three or more books a year. Now, if you really want something done, ask one of them, not me!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Fun in a Small Town
First up, thanks to all the wonderful American Romance authors for inviting me to join them on this blog. They’re a great bunch of ladies and I’m so happy to be one of them.
My first Harlequin American Romance, Marriage On Her Mind, goes on sale this week. (You can see the cover at the right side of this blog)It’s the first of what I hope will be a series of books set in Crested Butte, Colorado. (The second book, The Right Mr. Wrong, comes out in February.)
While I’ve often written about made-up places, Crested Butte is a real, live Colorado town, one I visit often and have come to love dearly. It’s an old mining town turned ski mecca, with a penchant for quirky festivals that often involve costume parties. It seemed the perfect place to set a series of fun romances. While all the people in the book are products of my own imagination, I used many real businesses, along with many of the fun festivals from the town.
Of course, there’s a danger in setting a book in a real place. Since I don’t live there and am not a native, there’s a chance I got something wrong in sprite of all my research. Even though none of my characters are based on real people, someone might think they are. And while I meant the book to portray the town and its people in the most positive manner, someone might take offense.
Last week the county paper did a nice article about the book, and the bookstore on the town’s main street tells me they’ve ordered a bunch and will do a special display. Now I sit nervously on my hands and wait for the reaction from the town. I hope they appreciate how I’ve portrayed their home. I hope my love for the place comes through.
Over Thanksgiving I’m visiting the town and will be signing at the bookstore, so I guess I’ll find out then what they really think!
Sunday, October 07, 2007
IN SEARCH OF A TITLE
Hi all,
I’m in search of a title and I could use your help. I have to come up with a list of titles for my next American and, okay, I’ll admit I’m stuck. The working title is Down In Texas.
Are you good with titles? I hope this will be fun and it will really help me. I’ll give you a short synopsis and see what you can come up with. I’ll draw a winner from those who post. The winner will receive a Texas beaded bookmark. You can see these on my Web site lindawarren.net. If your title is chosen, I’ll give you a free copy of the book when it is released. So do you feel like playing name that book:
Here goes: The hero, Reed, is CEO of a family owned Texas chain of department stores. Cari, the heroine, is a vice president in the company. She’s worked her way up the corporate ladder from a saleslady. Somewhere along the way she’s fallen in love with the handsome CEO. But Reed has a motto: he never dates the women working for him. It’s bad for the company.
Cari is torn between her heart and her job. At the risk of losing it all, she has to tell him how she feels. Just as she screws up her courage, Reed announces his engagement. Cari is devastated and knows she can no longer work for the company.
After a scheduled trip to an El Paso store, she plans to turn in her resignation. Then the unthinkable happens; the plane crashes in desolate west Texas. They are the only two survivors.
Now their lives are not about numbers, big business or broken hearts. It’s about survival. As they wait for a rescue team, they talk, shared and learn personal things about the other. When help doesn’t arrive, they start the long trek to civilization. Along the way they lean on each other and find courage, hope and love.
But is it real? Or is it something fabricated from their dire situation? Will it stand the test of the real world…
What do you think? Anything come to mind?
Have a great Monday.
Linda
I’m in search of a title and I could use your help. I have to come up with a list of titles for my next American and, okay, I’ll admit I’m stuck. The working title is Down In Texas.
Are you good with titles? I hope this will be fun and it will really help me. I’ll give you a short synopsis and see what you can come up with. I’ll draw a winner from those who post. The winner will receive a Texas beaded bookmark. You can see these on my Web site lindawarren.net. If your title is chosen, I’ll give you a free copy of the book when it is released. So do you feel like playing name that book:
Here goes: The hero, Reed, is CEO of a family owned Texas chain of department stores. Cari, the heroine, is a vice president in the company. She’s worked her way up the corporate ladder from a saleslady. Somewhere along the way she’s fallen in love with the handsome CEO. But Reed has a motto: he never dates the women working for him. It’s bad for the company.
Cari is torn between her heart and her job. At the risk of losing it all, she has to tell him how she feels. Just as she screws up her courage, Reed announces his engagement. Cari is devastated and knows she can no longer work for the company.
After a scheduled trip to an El Paso store, she plans to turn in her resignation. Then the unthinkable happens; the plane crashes in desolate west Texas. They are the only two survivors.
Now their lives are not about numbers, big business or broken hearts. It’s about survival. As they wait for a rescue team, they talk, shared and learn personal things about the other. When help doesn’t arrive, they start the long trek to civilization. Along the way they lean on each other and find courage, hope and love.
But is it real? Or is it something fabricated from their dire situation? Will it stand the test of the real world…
What do you think? Anything come to mind?
Have a great Monday.
Linda
Friday, October 05, 2007
Home from the Women’s Fiction Festival
I am just back from 18 days in Italy! What a wonderful time we had (my husband went with me). I could go on for hours about the food, the people, the poetry of the language, and all the fabulous art and buildings. Instead, I’m going to focus on the Women’s Fiction Festival in Matera, which I attended. I also gave a workshop there and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
First, a little about Matera. This unusual town of 65,000 is divided into old and new sections. The conference and our hotel was in the old section, where about 3,000 people currently live. This part of town has been populated for 7,000 years (that’s no typo— seven thousand), making it the longest ongoing town in the world. The first dwellers built their homes in the rock that rims the city. They lived in these caves (called Sassi, or homes of stone) along with their animals as if they were in the middle ages until 1950, when the Italian government was shamed into moving many of the people into homes with running water and electricity. (Thanks to a book about the subject, Christ Stopped in Eboli by Carlo Levi, which I intend to read in the near future.)
Many of the Sassi have been modernized. In fact, our 28-room hotel was once a group of Sassi houses and businesses. Our room was part of a church built in 800 and de-sanctified in 1950. It looked like a roomy cave, with light, heat and air conditioning, comfortable furnishings, and even a few windows. A fun, novel place to stay! (For a few photos of the hotel, visit http://www.travelitalia.com/it/hotels/Matera/1439/ )
The conference was small, about 50 attendees (mostly female) from the US, England, Italy, Germany, France and Sweden. Translators were available, too, and these amazing ladies were able to instantly translate English into Italian—no easy feat. Liz Jennings, the organizer of the festival, promised to make us speakers feel loved and welcomed. She lived up to that promise and then some. The night before the conference we met in an upscale boutique in Matera for a lovely cocktail party. Food and wine abounded, and we met other writers in town for the conference. After that, we enjoyed Happy Hour in one of the old squares, sitting outside to enjoy hors d’oeuvres and wine, while we listened to two very attractive actors read poetry in Italian. Made my little heart go pitty pat. ☺
Friday evening, Liz organized a tour of the town (during a full moon!), complete with a visit to Musma, a unique sculpture museum. We wandered into a huge cave consisting of room after room on various levels into the earth, where modern sculpture is artfully displayed. The juxtaposition of ancient and modern is truly marvelous.
And the food… There is nothing better than slow food. By that I mean pasta made and prepared on site, using fresh ingredients. Long, leisurely lunches and dinners. Oh!!
There were several agents and editors in attendance, and it was easy to sit down and chat. Plus lots of wonderful authors from America. Barbara Samuel, who I thoroughly enjoyed, Cindy Gerard with her fabulous energy, Kayle Perrin, Rosemary Laurey (aka Madeleine Oh) and Rachelle Chase. Liz Fielding (a Harlequin author from England) was there, too. Also editors Raelene Gorlinsky, Hilary Sares, and Karen Stoecker—fun ladies, indeed. The two agents from the U.S., Katharine Sands from the Jane Freymann Agency, and Christine Whitthohn from Book Cents Agency, both stayed at my hotel. I enjoyed our morning walk to the conference center. So we trudged up tons and tons of stairs that left us panting and somewhat warm from all that exertion. The exercise kept me from gaining a single pound, despite enjoying plenty of pasta, gelato and wine.
I gave a talk on creating realistic characters. It seemed to be well-received. A real thrill for me was when an Italian woman who runs a blog brought Another Life, which she had ordered from Amazon, for me to autograph. Another was that my name was mentioned in the local paper—in bold! If only I could fully comprehend Italian… ☺ For all I know, they said I was no mountain goat. Which would’ve come in handy for scaling all those stairs…
I didn’t stay for the Saturday cocktail party (we wanted to spend time in Rome before coming home), but it was hosted in an old olive oil factory/cave. For more info on the festival, visit www.womensfictionfestival.com .
Well, I’ve rattled on enough for one time. It’s good to be back, and I don’t intend to miss any more blogging days if I can help it.
Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007
First, a little about Matera. This unusual town of 65,000 is divided into old and new sections. The conference and our hotel was in the old section, where about 3,000 people currently live. This part of town has been populated for 7,000 years (that’s no typo— seven thousand), making it the longest ongoing town in the world. The first dwellers built their homes in the rock that rims the city. They lived in these caves (called Sassi, or homes of stone) along with their animals as if they were in the middle ages until 1950, when the Italian government was shamed into moving many of the people into homes with running water and electricity. (Thanks to a book about the subject, Christ Stopped in Eboli by Carlo Levi, which I intend to read in the near future.)
Many of the Sassi have been modernized. In fact, our 28-room hotel was once a group of Sassi houses and businesses. Our room was part of a church built in 800 and de-sanctified in 1950. It looked like a roomy cave, with light, heat and air conditioning, comfortable furnishings, and even a few windows. A fun, novel place to stay! (For a few photos of the hotel, visit http://www.travelitalia.com/it/hotels/Matera/1439/ )
The conference was small, about 50 attendees (mostly female) from the US, England, Italy, Germany, France and Sweden. Translators were available, too, and these amazing ladies were able to instantly translate English into Italian—no easy feat. Liz Jennings, the organizer of the festival, promised to make us speakers feel loved and welcomed. She lived up to that promise and then some. The night before the conference we met in an upscale boutique in Matera for a lovely cocktail party. Food and wine abounded, and we met other writers in town for the conference. After that, we enjoyed Happy Hour in one of the old squares, sitting outside to enjoy hors d’oeuvres and wine, while we listened to two very attractive actors read poetry in Italian. Made my little heart go pitty pat. ☺
Friday evening, Liz organized a tour of the town (during a full moon!), complete with a visit to Musma, a unique sculpture museum. We wandered into a huge cave consisting of room after room on various levels into the earth, where modern sculpture is artfully displayed. The juxtaposition of ancient and modern is truly marvelous.
And the food… There is nothing better than slow food. By that I mean pasta made and prepared on site, using fresh ingredients. Long, leisurely lunches and dinners. Oh!!
There were several agents and editors in attendance, and it was easy to sit down and chat. Plus lots of wonderful authors from America. Barbara Samuel, who I thoroughly enjoyed, Cindy Gerard with her fabulous energy, Kayle Perrin, Rosemary Laurey (aka Madeleine Oh) and Rachelle Chase. Liz Fielding (a Harlequin author from England) was there, too. Also editors Raelene Gorlinsky, Hilary Sares, and Karen Stoecker—fun ladies, indeed. The two agents from the U.S., Katharine Sands from the Jane Freymann Agency, and Christine Whitthohn from Book Cents Agency, both stayed at my hotel. I enjoyed our morning walk to the conference center. So we trudged up tons and tons of stairs that left us panting and somewhat warm from all that exertion. The exercise kept me from gaining a single pound, despite enjoying plenty of pasta, gelato and wine.
I gave a talk on creating realistic characters. It seemed to be well-received. A real thrill for me was when an Italian woman who runs a blog brought Another Life, which she had ordered from Amazon, for me to autograph. Another was that my name was mentioned in the local paper—in bold! If only I could fully comprehend Italian… ☺ For all I know, they said I was no mountain goat. Which would’ve come in handy for scaling all those stairs…
I didn’t stay for the Saturday cocktail party (we wanted to spend time in Rome before coming home), but it was hosted in an old olive oil factory/cave. For more info on the festival, visit www.womensfictionfestival.com .
Well, I’ve rattled on enough for one time. It’s good to be back, and I don’t intend to miss any more blogging days if I can help it.
Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007
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