Okay, I know that sounds whacky, but sometimes I really think I lived in another time period. And here's why:
--I hate technology…don't even ask me how to use the TIVO in our house. Don't ask me how to program the remote control not when I just mastered how to set the clock on the microwave. My DD typed out and printed off step-by-step directions on how to save my books onto a thumb drive--took me forever to memorize them. This month I used my last 3 ½ floppy to save the book I just sent my editor-- now I'm all in a panic because I don't have a valid excuse not to save my next book to a CD when I send it in.
--If someone asks me to choose between shopping at a high-end department store or checking out the local flea market--flea market wins every time.
--If I had a choice of spending the day at a resort spa or treasure hunting in an off-the-beaten-path hole in the wall town somewhere in Texas--I'll take the hole-in-the-wall
--I don’t get excited when my husband sends me flowers, but I'm over the moon when he says "Oh, go ahead and buy that old fashioned milk can for the front porch."
--If I don’t drive through the country and see cornfields, silos and barns at least every other day I feel lost.
--When I drive past an old dilapidated barn circa 1900's I shiver and my mind races with images of days gone by
--I get all excited going into a historical meat market in a nearby town because I get to look at the old photographs circa 1800's of the town and its people displayed on the walls.
--One entire wall (from floor to ceiling) in my living room is filled with vintage black and white portraits of my ancestors some dating back to the Civil war era
--I'm more at ease eating in a rundown diner than swank restaurant
--I like physical labor, don’t mind sweating and love working in a garden
--my dream vacation is following the Oregon Trail in a Winnebago
--I get excited when I see Historical Markers alongside the road
--I got light-headed and dizzy and swore I heard voices in my head when I stood by the fossilized ruts of the wagon trains that traveled the Oregon Trail through South Dakota
--Out of all the books I've written for the American line, I felt most connected with the characters in my *Hearts of Appalachia* series.
Anyone else ever feel like they've lived in another century--or know someone who swears they have? If not, then maybe I am whacky!
Marin
For The Children *Honorable Mention 2008 Hollywood Book Festival*
In A Cowboy's Arms www.eharlequin.com Free on-line Read
A Coal Miner's Wife August 2008
http://www.marinthomas.com/
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
My Olympic experience
Like many of you, I’m avidly watching the Olympics on TV. When my sons – ages nineteen and twenty-two -- sit with me, they too enjoy both the spectacle and the excitement of competition.
But unlike their viewing, mine is overlaid with memories.
Memorable scenes from past Olympics filter across my mental screen. There are highs and lows, the most painful being the 1972 murders of the Israeli athletes. I also recall disappointments when outstanding athletes like Mary Decker Slaney and Kim Zmeskal stumbled and fell heartbreakingly short.
There are also shining glories: Olga Korbut and Nadia Comenici and Mary Lou Retton and Carly Patterson. As you can tell, I’m a huge fan of gymnastics.
In fact, in the early Seventies I worked for a public relations office that represented a gymnastics team called the SCATS (Southern California Acro Team), which trained Cathy Rigby. I had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing Cathy several times, and of watching talented gymnasts compete long before the sport became as well known as it is today.
It was so little known, in fact, that when I called the local newspaper with the scores of a major gymnastics meet, the sports reporter asked, “Okay, how fast was the first girl?” It took me a minute to explain that speed wasn’t the point.
My only personal experience with the Olympics came in 1984, when they were held in Los Angeles. Although I’d left my job with The Associated Press the previous year, I still covered theater and the arts on a freelance basis, and was asked by AP to cover the Olympic Arts Festival.
Always held in association with the Olympics, this festival receives less coverage than it deserves. In Beijing this year, for example, there’s a concert series feature some of the world’s most popular opera singers: Renée Fleming, Sumi Jo, Angela Gheorghiu, Salvatore Licitra, Ramon Vargas, Jonas Kaufmann, Marcello Giordani and Dmitri Hvorostovsky (okay, I'm an opera buff, too). In the case of LA, the attractions included the Royal Opera of Covent Garden, the Royal Shakespeare Company and a host of talented groups from around the world. I had a ball interviewing stars and viewing as many performances as I could squeeze in.
I’m not going to make it to this year’s Olympics in person, but if all goes well with my mother’s health (at age 90, she’s recovering from surgery), we’ll be visiting China next month to attend an international ceramics conference. As you know if you’ve visited my Web site (www.jacquelinediamond.com), my mom, Sylvia Hyman, is an internationally known ceramic sculptor.
She last visited China thirty years ago, when the country was much less developed. So while I’ll be viewing the new skyscrapers and bridges with fresh eyes, she’ll be seeing them through a veil of memories.
Funny how that happens.
But unlike their viewing, mine is overlaid with memories.
Memorable scenes from past Olympics filter across my mental screen. There are highs and lows, the most painful being the 1972 murders of the Israeli athletes. I also recall disappointments when outstanding athletes like Mary Decker Slaney and Kim Zmeskal stumbled and fell heartbreakingly short.
There are also shining glories: Olga Korbut and Nadia Comenici and Mary Lou Retton and Carly Patterson. As you can tell, I’m a huge fan of gymnastics.
In fact, in the early Seventies I worked for a public relations office that represented a gymnastics team called the SCATS (Southern California Acro Team), which trained Cathy Rigby. I had the pleasure of meeting and interviewing Cathy several times, and of watching talented gymnasts compete long before the sport became as well known as it is today.
It was so little known, in fact, that when I called the local newspaper with the scores of a major gymnastics meet, the sports reporter asked, “Okay, how fast was the first girl?” It took me a minute to explain that speed wasn’t the point.
My only personal experience with the Olympics came in 1984, when they were held in Los Angeles. Although I’d left my job with The Associated Press the previous year, I still covered theater and the arts on a freelance basis, and was asked by AP to cover the Olympic Arts Festival.
Always held in association with the Olympics, this festival receives less coverage than it deserves. In Beijing this year, for example, there’s a concert series feature some of the world’s most popular opera singers: Renée Fleming, Sumi Jo, Angela Gheorghiu, Salvatore Licitra, Ramon Vargas, Jonas Kaufmann, Marcello Giordani and Dmitri Hvorostovsky (okay, I'm an opera buff, too). In the case of LA, the attractions included the Royal Opera of Covent Garden, the Royal Shakespeare Company and a host of talented groups from around the world. I had a ball interviewing stars and viewing as many performances as I could squeeze in.
I’m not going to make it to this year’s Olympics in person, but if all goes well with my mother’s health (at age 90, she’s recovering from surgery), we’ll be visiting China next month to attend an international ceramics conference. As you know if you’ve visited my Web site (www.jacquelinediamond.com), my mom, Sylvia Hyman, is an internationally known ceramic sculptor.
She last visited China thirty years ago, when the country was much less developed. So while I’ll be viewing the new skyscrapers and bridges with fresh eyes, she’ll be seeing them through a veil of memories.
Funny how that happens.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Recharged, refreshed and Ready
School starts today. While I've been technically back at work since July 29, today was my first day with a full slate of classes. I'm teaching yearbook, newspaper, journalism, photojournalism, ninth grade English and next semester, one section of novel. It's a lot. But I'm ready.
It's been a great summer, but I admit I missed my classroom. Yesterday was freshmen orientation and my class came by so I got to meet some of them. Yesterday we also had our professional development sampler. This year my publication staffs will build a website and blog. I will work on studying Marzano. I'm recharged and refreshed, and excited about everything--and refusing to panic as it seems way too much.
My ninth graders are starting with To Kill a Mockingbird, and I'm tying it into the November presidental election. Back in Scout Finch's day, no one would have thought we'd see a woman and a black man vie for a nomination, much less a black man be the candidate for president. No matter the vote, it's like the 4x100 freestyle relay where America won. It gives you positive chills.
Today was only a half day, but tomorrow is the full day. I'm ready.
Michele
It's been a great summer, but I admit I missed my classroom. Yesterday was freshmen orientation and my class came by so I got to meet some of them. Yesterday we also had our professional development sampler. This year my publication staffs will build a website and blog. I will work on studying Marzano. I'm recharged and refreshed, and excited about everything--and refusing to panic as it seems way too much.
My ninth graders are starting with To Kill a Mockingbird, and I'm tying it into the November presidental election. Back in Scout Finch's day, no one would have thought we'd see a woman and a black man vie for a nomination, much less a black man be the candidate for president. No matter the vote, it's like the 4x100 freestyle relay where America won. It gives you positive chills.
Today was only a half day, but tomorrow is the full day. I'm ready.
Michele
Monday, August 11, 2008
Ever had a Trojan Horse virus?
It's scary. I've been fighting it since yesterday, and this morning I wasn't able to go online at all. I've finally resorted to kicking my husband off his computer so I could at least check in on my blog day! (And, no, this is not a thinly veiled excuse for not having written a blog in advance. Though I didn't, in fact, write a blog in advance.)
So what have I been up to since I returned from the Romance Writers of America conference, flush with inspiration and motivation and ready to light the world on fire with my brilliant fiction? Actually I have been writing some. I've also been watching the Olympics, but I find myself cheering for athletes from other countries as often as I do the Americans. (Maybe I shouldn't admit that, as a Harlequin American author!) I think the Russian gymnasts are incredible, and the commentators aren't giving them much praise. And they aren't showing enough bicycling!
Well, back to check on my virus scan. At least the virus has been detected and I know what it is. Next I have to figure out how to get rid of it. We'll see what's left of my disk drive when I'm through!
So what have I been up to since I returned from the Romance Writers of America conference, flush with inspiration and motivation and ready to light the world on fire with my brilliant fiction? Actually I have been writing some. I've also been watching the Olympics, but I find myself cheering for athletes from other countries as often as I do the Americans. (Maybe I shouldn't admit that, as a Harlequin American author!) I think the Russian gymnasts are incredible, and the commentators aren't giving them much praise. And they aren't showing enough bicycling!
Well, back to check on my virus scan. At least the virus has been detected and I know what it is. Next I have to figure out how to get rid of it. We'll see what's left of my disk drive when I'm through!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Love to Travel
I just returned from attending the RWA conference in San Francisco, before which I spent the weekend in Wisconsin, and now I'm heading off to Colorado for some relaxation and research on a book idea. I LOVE to travel. Maybe because we didn't do much when I was growing up. Maybe because it's more interesting than cleaning my house (is that my husband laughing in the background?). Maybe because I'm meeting new people and seeing new places.
In Wisconsin, I met family I didn't know existed and toured a beautiful hospice facility outside Milwaukee. I had a wonderful time at the RWA conference, meeting old friends and new, even though I didn't see anything of the city or my family there. :( Fortunately, I'd been there four years ago and toured some of it with them then. Now I'm heading to the mountains, where I've heard the wildflowers are stunning. We'll see some family too.
So, do you have a travel preference? Like to visit where there's family? Prefer to go totally new places? And do you make hotel reservations or wing it?
Megan Kelly
megankellybooks.com
In Wisconsin, I met family I didn't know existed and toured a beautiful hospice facility outside Milwaukee. I had a wonderful time at the RWA conference, meeting old friends and new, even though I didn't see anything of the city or my family there. :( Fortunately, I'd been there four years ago and toured some of it with them then. Now I'm heading to the mountains, where I've heard the wildflowers are stunning. We'll see some family too.
So, do you have a travel preference? Like to visit where there's family? Prefer to go totally new places? And do you make hotel reservations or wing it?
Megan Kelly
megankellybooks.com
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
RWA Conference
Whew! I’m just now recovering from the RWA conference held last week in San Francisco. My laundry is done, I’ve cleaned out my purse, my domestic crises are solved, and I’m looking forward to getting caught up on my sleep. On the turista front we rode a cable car (squashed in with tons of vacationers), enjoyed ice cream at Ghirardelli Square (chocolate, of course) and shopped in China Town (can you say jewelry). Not to mention we made several visits to a gigantic mall (including the biggest Nordstrom’s I’ve ever seen) that was conveniently located half a block from our hotel.
Oh, that’s right - we were there on business, and believe it or not we did manage to conduct a lot of business. For me, national conferences are vital to my understanding of the publishing game. It’s a great time to see old friends, to get caught up on the market trends, to have one-on-one meetings with my agent and editor, to learn something new and to spend quality time with people who understand sitting in front of a computer and talking to imaginary friends.
As a bonus we celebrated Harlequin American’s 25th birthday. HAR authors – you rock, and happy birthday HAR!
Ann
Ann DeFee
2008 Book Buyer’s Best Award (long contemporary) for Summer After Summer, Harlequin Everlasting Love, September 2007
2008 Holt Merit Award (short contemporary and southern theme), Georgia On His Mind, HAR August 2007
HAR, The Man She Married, February 2009
Oh, that’s right - we were there on business, and believe it or not we did manage to conduct a lot of business. For me, national conferences are vital to my understanding of the publishing game. It’s a great time to see old friends, to get caught up on the market trends, to have one-on-one meetings with my agent and editor, to learn something new and to spend quality time with people who understand sitting in front of a computer and talking to imaginary friends.
As a bonus we celebrated Harlequin American’s 25th birthday. HAR authors – you rock, and happy birthday HAR!
Ann
Ann DeFee
2008 Book Buyer’s Best Award (long contemporary) for Summer After Summer, Harlequin Everlasting Love, September 2007
2008 Holt Merit Award (short contemporary and southern theme), Georgia On His Mind, HAR August 2007
HAR, The Man She Married, February 2009
Interview with new to Harlequin American author Lisa Childs
I'm thrilled to be writing for Harlequin American and was happy to answer some questions about myself. If you have a question of your own, please ask away.
1) Tell us a little about your family and where you're from.
I'm married with two daughters. I'm also the youngest of seven kids with lots of uncles, aunts and cousins, too. So I love writing about families. I live a mile from where I grew up in west Michigan -- it's a great community, where I'm either related to or know most of the people, so it's a wonderful place to raise my kids. Must be why I love writing about community, too -- so Harlequin American is a perfect fit for me.
2) Tell us about your book.
FOREVER HIS BRIDE is the third book in my Wedding Party series for Harlequin American. I brainstormed the series while cleaning my closet, when I came across all my old bridesmaid dresses in the back of it. I love being part of weddings -- the romance, the family, the fun, the drama -- and of course all of that is in my series. When the bride jilts the groom, maid of honor, Brenna Kelly, isn't that disappointed nor is the groom that devastated as he realizes he'd proposed to the wrong woman. But he has a lot of convincing to do before he can make Brenna FOREVER HIS BRIDE.
3) If you could be lazy for an entire day what would you do?
READ!!!! I have so many wonderful books on my TBR (to be read) pile!
4) What is your writing routine?
I have to write every day or I suffer withdrawal! Of course I write more when I'm under deadline so that usually involves late nights -- if I'm busy with family stuff during the day.
5) What was the hardest part of writing your book?
I really enjoyed writing FOREVER HIS BRIDE. It was hard writing the last book, FINALLY A BRIDE, in the Wedding Party series though because I didn't want to leave this fictional town of Cloverville, Michigan or these fun characters.
6) What inspired you to write your first book?
My love of books. Even before I could read, I loved when my mom, dad or older siblings read to me.
7) What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I have so many ideas that I often work on more than one project at a time -- even going from writing a Harlequin American to a Silhouette Nocturne -- which are quite different subgenres of romance.
8) When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Always -- since I was a kid. I didn't need to get published to know I was a writer.
9) What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book?
How much fun it was to write a plus-sized heroine -- one who is "allergic" to exercise and dieting. It was a really freeing experience and helped me accept my figure as it is now -- after having two kids and spending too much time sitting at my desk.
10) What's your favorite dessert?
Anything chocolate -- preferably dark chocolate.
11) If you were stranded on Island for a month and could bring three things along what would they be?
Hmmm...since things don't include people then I can't bring my family. And seriously, if there's no electricity I wouldn't do well. It's gone out for six hours over a storm and I've nearly lost what's left of my sanity. I'd have to have my laptop, a TV and air-conditioning -- without, I really wouldn’t make it.
12) Why did you target the American Romance Line? I LOVE the books -- I love writing about families, and including humor with emotion. The perfect book for me is one that makes me laugh and cry. American Romances do that!
1) Tell us a little about your family and where you're from.
I'm married with two daughters. I'm also the youngest of seven kids with lots of uncles, aunts and cousins, too. So I love writing about families. I live a mile from where I grew up in west Michigan -- it's a great community, where I'm either related to or know most of the people, so it's a wonderful place to raise my kids. Must be why I love writing about community, too -- so Harlequin American is a perfect fit for me.
2) Tell us about your book.
FOREVER HIS BRIDE is the third book in my Wedding Party series for Harlequin American. I brainstormed the series while cleaning my closet, when I came across all my old bridesmaid dresses in the back of it. I love being part of weddings -- the romance, the family, the fun, the drama -- and of course all of that is in my series. When the bride jilts the groom, maid of honor, Brenna Kelly, isn't that disappointed nor is the groom that devastated as he realizes he'd proposed to the wrong woman. But he has a lot of convincing to do before he can make Brenna FOREVER HIS BRIDE.
3) If you could be lazy for an entire day what would you do?
READ!!!! I have so many wonderful books on my TBR (to be read) pile!
4) What is your writing routine?
I have to write every day or I suffer withdrawal! Of course I write more when I'm under deadline so that usually involves late nights -- if I'm busy with family stuff during the day.
5) What was the hardest part of writing your book?
I really enjoyed writing FOREVER HIS BRIDE. It was hard writing the last book, FINALLY A BRIDE, in the Wedding Party series though because I didn't want to leave this fictional town of Cloverville, Michigan or these fun characters.
6) What inspired you to write your first book?
My love of books. Even before I could read, I loved when my mom, dad or older siblings read to me.
7) What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I have so many ideas that I often work on more than one project at a time -- even going from writing a Harlequin American to a Silhouette Nocturne -- which are quite different subgenres of romance.
8) When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Always -- since I was a kid. I didn't need to get published to know I was a writer.
9) What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book?
How much fun it was to write a plus-sized heroine -- one who is "allergic" to exercise and dieting. It was a really freeing experience and helped me accept my figure as it is now -- after having two kids and spending too much time sitting at my desk.
10) What's your favorite dessert?
Anything chocolate -- preferably dark chocolate.
11) If you were stranded on Island for a month and could bring three things along what would they be?
Hmmm...since things don't include people then I can't bring my family. And seriously, if there's no electricity I wouldn't do well. It's gone out for six hours over a storm and I've nearly lost what's left of my sanity.
12) Why did you target the American Romance Line? I LOVE the books -- I love writing about families, and including humor with emotion. The perfect book for me is one that makes me laugh and cry. American Romances do that!
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Spots on my blouse
A few days ago, before I left for RWA in San Francisco, I took a friend to lunch for her birthday. A tradition we both enjoy, as lunch for both our birthdays insures we see each other at least twice a year. She chose a really good Asian place that serves delicious, healthful food. We had fun—yummy food, great conversation, lots of laughter. When I got home, I happened to glance down. There on the front of my pretty, light-teal color blouse, was a ginormous grease spot. (I’ll be honest here—there were several little ones, too.) Now I love food and love to eat, but I’m no wild ape. I lean over and try to be careful. But one or more of the dishes must’ve splattered.
It’s not the spots that bother me.(Okay, the DO bother me a little. What a slob!!) It’s the fact that my friend never said, oops, you got grease on your blouse. I would tell her, I swear. I realize I couldn’t have done anything about the spots, but I wish she’d have said something so I’d have realized.
Which leads to a big question that’s now on my mind: Do you tell people if they have spots on their clothes? Or maybe the tag on the back of their shirt is sticking up. Or they have food in their teeth. Or anything else that is amiss. I’m wondering whether you tell people about these things so that they can fix the problem? Or do you just let them walk around unaware?
Until next time and wishing you spot-free clothes, food-free teeth, and tucked in tags,
Ann Roth
www.annroth.net
It’s not the spots that bother me.(Okay, the DO bother me a little. What a slob!!) It’s the fact that my friend never said, oops, you got grease on your blouse. I would tell her, I swear. I realize I couldn’t have done anything about the spots, but I wish she’d have said something so I’d have realized.
Which leads to a big question that’s now on my mind: Do you tell people if they have spots on their clothes? Or maybe the tag on the back of their shirt is sticking up. Or they have food in their teeth. Or anything else that is amiss. I’m wondering whether you tell people about these things so that they can fix the problem? Or do you just let them walk around unaware?
Until next time and wishing you spot-free clothes, food-free teeth, and tucked in tags,
Ann Roth
www.annroth.net
Monday, August 04, 2008
Summer's flying fast!
I didn't attend this year's Romance Writers of America conference. This year, for the first time since I can't remember when, I was a stay-at-home while all the other conferees went off to the designated city--San Francisco, this time around--and had fun.
Did I cry, did I pout, did I stomp around the house in a poor-little-me pity party?
Well...yes, of course, I did! At least, a teeny-weeny part of the time. ;-)
The other--and much greater--part of the time, I spent with my fingers on the keyboard, pounding away at my work in progress. I've been off from the day job for the summer and making the most of it.
So, while I didn't schmooze with agents and editors and authors and writers, didn't workshop till I dropped, and didn't party into the wee hours, I have to admit--I had myself a wonderful time!
I'd love to hear what you all have been doing during the summer, the places you've been, the things you've accomplished, the projects you've finally crossed off your To-Do lists.
Me, I'm going back to the keyboard right now. But I'll be sure to stop by to see what you've been up to!
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com
Did I cry, did I pout, did I stomp around the house in a poor-little-me pity party?
Well...yes, of course, I did! At least, a teeny-weeny part of the time. ;-)
The other--and much greater--part of the time, I spent with my fingers on the keyboard, pounding away at my work in progress. I've been off from the day job for the summer and making the most of it.
So, while I didn't schmooze with agents and editors and authors and writers, didn't workshop till I dropped, and didn't party into the wee hours, I have to admit--I had myself a wonderful time!
I'd love to hear what you all have been doing during the summer, the places you've been, the things you've accomplished, the projects you've finally crossed off your To-Do lists.
Me, I'm going back to the keyboard right now. But I'll be sure to stop by to see what you've been up to!
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Steak Night At the Galloway House
I’m typing this note from the Houston Intercontinental Airport, which is my mid-way stop until I get home to Cincinnati. I’ve been in California for a solid week, first seeing my mother, then attending the annual Romance Writers of America conference.
I have a feeling lots of other Harlequin American writers will have far more insightful things to say about the experience than me. So I’ll let them tell y’all about all the fun things that happened at RWA.
Instead, I’ll share with you the latest installment in what is beginning to be known as Steak Night at the Galloway House.
I have to tell you that I did not name this Important Event. My kids did. However, I kind of like the label, because well, this dinner is a pretty big deal in our little family of four.
See, we really like steak.
And no, we don’t have it all that much. I’m a very good cookie baker, but not a great cook. So, I’m constantly trying out new recipes, much to my teenagers’ dismay. (Their grading system of my meals is a whole other story). Anyway, we like our steak, and these dinners usually fall on Sunday nights, or when no one can take another episode of “Shelley trying to make fancy food.”
Unfortunately, steak night rarely goes off without a hitch. Our crazy beagle has been known to pull New York strips off of countertops (raw and cooked) , the grill mysteriously runs out of gas, and, well, sometimes the side dishes have been known to go awry, culminating in the time three potatoes blew up in the microwave.
That was a real mess.
One time our dear daughter made the mistake of inviting a new boyfriend to these special meals. It didn’t go over so well. We knew he wouldn’t last when a)he wouldn’t eat a baked potato (our obvious standard side dish-when whole and not blown up) and b) insisted on smothering his steak with ketchup (Galloways don’t do that) and then c) only eating half his steak. When the boyfriend tossed his leftover steak in the trashcan, my son merely looked at the poor kid with disdain. Obviously, he didn’t-and never would- fit in.
She broke up with him three days later.
Anyway, since I was gone for a week, and my husband is not the cookbook fan that I am- steak night was last Thursday. I only knew this because I received an SOS call at 2 o’clock California time. Seems steaks had been taken outside to thaw, been forgotten about, and retrieved five hours later. All three of my favorite carnivores were staring at a zip locked bag with three very brown, warm steaks inside. “Shelley, any chance they might still be good?” my husband asked.
I regretfully told them that no, probably not.
They ended up eating grilled cheese sandwiches.
Special dinners are on my mind because I just received a text. It seems potatoes are in the oven, a salad is being tossed, and four fresh steaks are thawing-in the refrigerator this time! Tonight will be wonderful, indeed. I’ll finally be home-and will definitely be ready to sit down to a great dinner-with three of my favorite people in the world.
So, anyone have a special dinner that says ‘home’ to you?
Shelley
I have a feeling lots of other Harlequin American writers will have far more insightful things to say about the experience than me. So I’ll let them tell y’all about all the fun things that happened at RWA.
Instead, I’ll share with you the latest installment in what is beginning to be known as Steak Night at the Galloway House.
I have to tell you that I did not name this Important Event. My kids did. However, I kind of like the label, because well, this dinner is a pretty big deal in our little family of four.
See, we really like steak.
And no, we don’t have it all that much. I’m a very good cookie baker, but not a great cook. So, I’m constantly trying out new recipes, much to my teenagers’ dismay. (Their grading system of my meals is a whole other story). Anyway, we like our steak, and these dinners usually fall on Sunday nights, or when no one can take another episode of “Shelley trying to make fancy food.”
Unfortunately, steak night rarely goes off without a hitch. Our crazy beagle has been known to pull New York strips off of countertops (raw and cooked) , the grill mysteriously runs out of gas, and, well, sometimes the side dishes have been known to go awry, culminating in the time three potatoes blew up in the microwave.
That was a real mess.
One time our dear daughter made the mistake of inviting a new boyfriend to these special meals. It didn’t go over so well. We knew he wouldn’t last when a)he wouldn’t eat a baked potato (our obvious standard side dish-when whole and not blown up) and b) insisted on smothering his steak with ketchup (Galloways don’t do that) and then c) only eating half his steak. When the boyfriend tossed his leftover steak in the trashcan, my son merely looked at the poor kid with disdain. Obviously, he didn’t-and never would- fit in.
She broke up with him three days later.
Anyway, since I was gone for a week, and my husband is not the cookbook fan that I am- steak night was last Thursday. I only knew this because I received an SOS call at 2 o’clock California time. Seems steaks had been taken outside to thaw, been forgotten about, and retrieved five hours later. All three of my favorite carnivores were staring at a zip locked bag with three very brown, warm steaks inside. “Shelley, any chance they might still be good?” my husband asked.
I regretfully told them that no, probably not.
They ended up eating grilled cheese sandwiches.
Special dinners are on my mind because I just received a text. It seems potatoes are in the oven, a salad is being tossed, and four fresh steaks are thawing-in the refrigerator this time! Tonight will be wonderful, indeed. I’ll finally be home-and will definitely be ready to sit down to a great dinner-with three of my favorite people in the world.
So, anyone have a special dinner that says ‘home’ to you?
Shelley
Saturday, August 02, 2008
JULY WINNER!!!!
This month's winner is MaryF!!!!!! Congratulations!!! To get your free, autographed books, please contact Megan Kelly, and Lee McKenzie and Ann Defee through their websites.
Tell all your friends to visit us. To win, simply comment and your name is entered in our drawing.
Tell all your friends to visit us. To win, simply comment and your name is entered in our drawing.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Not-so-secret Sources
In my books, I write a lot about doctors and babies and pregnancies. Take, for example, my current Harlequin American, Baby in Waiting. The title just about says it, doesn’t it?
You may wonder where I do my research. Well, it’s not a secret … but it’s complicated.
First, as you may have read on my Web site (http://www.jacquelinediamond.com/), my father was a doctor who delivered me at home. His status as a small-town doctor – before he decided to return for a residency in psychiatry – inspired my Downhome Doctors series for Harlequin (recently issued in Australia) and informs my current Harmony Circle series.
Second, I draw on personal experience. While I can’t claim to have undergone every pregnancy and infertility complication known to womankind, I sometimes feel as if I did. I certainly spent a huge amount of time in doctors’ offices, clinics and hospitals. Rather than go into all the extensive details, I’ll just say I was very fortunate to emerge with two healthy sons.
Out of interest, I read a great deal on medical subjects. And for every book, I go to the Internet to seek out the latest information on relevant topics. Among other sites, my friend Doug Lyle, M.D., author of Forensics: A Guide for Writers, answers medical questions of interest to writers at http://www.dplylemd.com/.
Then there’s my volunteer consultant, Marcia Holman, an experienced nurse. A friend and former neighbor, she’s overcome plenty of health issues of her own and given birth to five wonderful kids, the youngest of whom is in high school. When in doubt, I call on her, and she’s always generous with her time.
The tricky part about researching novels, you see, is that not everything fits neatly on an informational Web site. For example, how is a doctor’s office organized? How often do obstetricians serve on-call duty? What’s the role of a nurse in relation to the doctor she works with? Personal observation has given me a sense of these things, but I rely on Marcia to help me with the details.
Where would we writers be without our friends? And, of course, our readers!
You may wonder where I do my research. Well, it’s not a secret … but it’s complicated.
First, as you may have read on my Web site (http://www.jacquelinediamond.com/), my father was a doctor who delivered me at home. His status as a small-town doctor – before he decided to return for a residency in psychiatry – inspired my Downhome Doctors series for Harlequin (recently issued in Australia) and informs my current Harmony Circle series.
Second, I draw on personal experience. While I can’t claim to have undergone every pregnancy and infertility complication known to womankind, I sometimes feel as if I did. I certainly spent a huge amount of time in doctors’ offices, clinics and hospitals. Rather than go into all the extensive details, I’ll just say I was very fortunate to emerge with two healthy sons.
Out of interest, I read a great deal on medical subjects. And for every book, I go to the Internet to seek out the latest information on relevant topics. Among other sites, my friend Doug Lyle, M.D., author of Forensics: A Guide for Writers, answers medical questions of interest to writers at http://www.dplylemd.com/.
Then there’s my volunteer consultant, Marcia Holman, an experienced nurse. A friend and former neighbor, she’s overcome plenty of health issues of her own and given birth to five wonderful kids, the youngest of whom is in high school. When in doubt, I call on her, and she’s always generous with her time.
The tricky part about researching novels, you see, is that not everything fits neatly on an informational Web site. For example, how is a doctor’s office organized? How often do obstetricians serve on-call duty? What’s the role of a nurse in relation to the doctor she works with? Personal observation has given me a sense of these things, but I rely on Marcia to help me with the details.
Where would we writers be without our friends? And, of course, our readers!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So who's done eBay?
I have discovered eBay. I know; I’m a little late to the party. Most people have been buying and selling things on eBay and being PayPal gurus for years. Not me. Bombarded long ago by all those fake emails, I’ve stayed away.
I’ve started to slowly come back as eBay has some stuff I just can’t find in stores. I bought a set of Fruits Basket videos for my daughter. I just bought a Harvest Moon game for her Nintendo DS. For both I sat there in the last hour and refreshed my screen a dozen times in dread that I might get outbid and not get the emails in time. (I’m thinking that in the beginning the sellers are the ones bidding against me to get the price up, but that’s another blog.) I did get both items for a fair price. So that’s my entire eBay experience. I still don’t have a PayPal account. I pay as I go.
I’m guess I’m also leery of eBay because I am not a used-item shopper. Perhaps it comes from all those used cars I had in my teens. The timing belt of my Mercury Lynx broke, twice. After the second time, the car was dead. My mom paid $50 to have it hauled away. My next car was a Ford Maverick that would die at every intersection during the winter. I could get out, pop the hood, stick a screwdriver in the carburetor, shoot starter fluid and crank the engine all in less than two minutes (or while the light was still red). When I finally got my first brand-new car, the dealer gave me $50 to take my Maverick away.
Used things freak me out. I have this prejudiced paranoia. I like selling at garage sales, but I rarely buy anything unless it’s something I can wash with extremely hot water, bleach or Windex.
Being curious about books on eBay, I plugged in my name into the search field. On July 5, four items were up for auction, starting at 99 cents. In the “buy it now” store, I found 43 items. One was a brand new Michele Dunaway Legally Tender book for $6.01, plus $3.99 for priority shipping. That doesn’t include the $1.30 for insurance.
That got me thinking. Sure, that book is off the shelves. However, Legally Tender never cost $6.01. It was, at most, $4.99. Perhaps the upcharge is for some kind of shrink-wrap, for the seller says the book comes sealed. I don’t get my author copies sealed, as Harlequin doesn’t ship my books that way and the ones I’ve gotten off eharlequin haven’t been sealed. I’m not curious enough click the “ask the seller” icon and find out what she means.
I also found, for $1 buy-it-now, A Little Office Romance, my very first book. I only have two copies in my possession. This seller says the cost to ship will be $3.23 media. However, one book first class in a plain 6×9 envelope costs under $2. Perhaps the extra money is being spent on delivery confirmation. But I don’t think you can get DC for media mail, but I might be wrong.
That brings me to another reason I am eBaying slowly. I’ve discovered that it’s very easy to overpay, and in this economy every nickel and dime counts. My daughter wanted a Wii. She earned most of the money selling all our used junk at a garage sale. However, we couldn’t find a Wii console in the store anywhere. Toys-R-Us said we could come get in line early Sunday morning for a chance, but church services took precedent. So we tried eBay. The price mark up was close to $100, before shipping. I told my daughter no way to eBay and that, if we were supposed to have a Wii, we would walk into Target (where we had a $10 off coupon and $65 in gift cards) and the game console would be there waiting for us.
Amazingly, that’s exactly what happened. Less than three weeks later, my daughter and I went to Target for something else, checked the electronics section, and there were two Wiis on the shelf. We now have our Wii, for the regular retail price of $249, and we used our gift cards and coupon.
So those are my eBay experiences. As a newbie, help me out. Enlighten me! I want to hear your eBay stories: the good, the bad, the ugly, the happy and the horrible. I’ll be responding to your comments this afternoon and tomorrow, so share with me, the eBay novice. I really want to know.
I’ve started to slowly come back as eBay has some stuff I just can’t find in stores. I bought a set of Fruits Basket videos for my daughter. I just bought a Harvest Moon game for her Nintendo DS. For both I sat there in the last hour and refreshed my screen a dozen times in dread that I might get outbid and not get the emails in time. (I’m thinking that in the beginning the sellers are the ones bidding against me to get the price up, but that’s another blog.) I did get both items for a fair price. So that’s my entire eBay experience. I still don’t have a PayPal account. I pay as I go.
I’m guess I’m also leery of eBay because I am not a used-item shopper. Perhaps it comes from all those used cars I had in my teens. The timing belt of my Mercury Lynx broke, twice. After the second time, the car was dead. My mom paid $50 to have it hauled away. My next car was a Ford Maverick that would die at every intersection during the winter. I could get out, pop the hood, stick a screwdriver in the carburetor, shoot starter fluid and crank the engine all in less than two minutes (or while the light was still red). When I finally got my first brand-new car, the dealer gave me $50 to take my Maverick away.
Used things freak me out. I have this prejudiced paranoia. I like selling at garage sales, but I rarely buy anything unless it’s something I can wash with extremely hot water, bleach or Windex.
Being curious about books on eBay, I plugged in my name into the search field. On July 5, four items were up for auction, starting at 99 cents. In the “buy it now” store, I found 43 items. One was a brand new Michele Dunaway Legally Tender book for $6.01, plus $3.99 for priority shipping. That doesn’t include the $1.30 for insurance.
That got me thinking. Sure, that book is off the shelves. However, Legally Tender never cost $6.01. It was, at most, $4.99. Perhaps the upcharge is for some kind of shrink-wrap, for the seller says the book comes sealed. I don’t get my author copies sealed, as Harlequin doesn’t ship my books that way and the ones I’ve gotten off eharlequin haven’t been sealed. I’m not curious enough click the “ask the seller” icon and find out what she means.
I also found, for $1 buy-it-now, A Little Office Romance, my very first book. I only have two copies in my possession. This seller says the cost to ship will be $3.23 media. However, one book first class in a plain 6×9 envelope costs under $2. Perhaps the extra money is being spent on delivery confirmation. But I don’t think you can get DC for media mail, but I might be wrong.
That brings me to another reason I am eBaying slowly. I’ve discovered that it’s very easy to overpay, and in this economy every nickel and dime counts. My daughter wanted a Wii. She earned most of the money selling all our used junk at a garage sale. However, we couldn’t find a Wii console in the store anywhere. Toys-R-Us said we could come get in line early Sunday morning for a chance, but church services took precedent. So we tried eBay. The price mark up was close to $100, before shipping. I told my daughter no way to eBay and that, if we were supposed to have a Wii, we would walk into Target (where we had a $10 off coupon and $65 in gift cards) and the game console would be there waiting for us.
Amazingly, that’s exactly what happened. Less than three weeks later, my daughter and I went to Target for something else, checked the electronics section, and there were two Wiis on the shelf. We now have our Wii, for the regular retail price of $249, and we used our gift cards and coupon.
So those are my eBay experiences. As a newbie, help me out. Enlighten me! I want to hear your eBay stories: the good, the bad, the ugly, the happy and the horrible. I’ll be responding to your comments this afternoon and tomorrow, so share with me, the eBay novice. I really want to know.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Off to San Francisco
As you read this, I'm on a plane winging my way to San Francisco for my 20th Romance Writers of America national conference. This annual event is the highlight of my year. It's the one chance I have all year to visit with my long-distance writer friends, get face time with my editor, workshop myself ragged and attend wild parties.
Well, not so wild anymore. Nothing will ever top the Harlequin Party in Seattle in ... 1988, perhaps? All I can tell you is, it involved about a dozen scantily dressed male models (including a cowboy wearing chaps and no pants). Ah, those were the days.
Nowadays, Harlequin opts for a nice ballroom, a D.J., and an open bar with STRONG drinks. The dance floor turns into a mosh pit. It is, without a doubt, the most fun party I'll attend all year. This year is especially special for me because I'll be receiving my 50-book pin. My 50th Harlequin/Silhouette book will be published in December by Harlequin American. What a long, strange trip it's been.
Well, not so wild anymore. Nothing will ever top the Harlequin Party in Seattle in ... 1988, perhaps? All I can tell you is, it involved about a dozen scantily dressed male models (including a cowboy wearing chaps and no pants). Ah, those were the days.
Nowadays, Harlequin opts for a nice ballroom, a D.J., and an open bar with STRONG drinks. The dance floor turns into a mosh pit. It is, without a doubt, the most fun party I'll attend all year. This year is especially special for me because I'll be receiving my 50-book pin. My 50th Harlequin/Silhouette book will be published in December by Harlequin American. What a long, strange trip it's been.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sentimental Clutter
So with the annual Romance Writers of America coming up this week, I've had to dig through closets to find things for the conference, stuff that in some cases I haven't used since LAST summer's conference (like my special name badge holder with the three RITA finalist pins that mean so much to me or the bright garment bag that's so easy to spot on airline carousels among navy and black luggage). Anyway, whenever I'm forced to brave the walk-in closet of my office or start pulling things out from under the bed, I always bang up against these two truths:
1. I can never find anything
in large part because
2. I keep EVERYTHING!
I hold onto the strangest things. There's a piece of driftwood my husband and I found walking on the beach when we were engaged. There's a tag cut off the first dress he brought me (a cute red and white polka dot number that went in the Goodwill pile YEARS ago and would not fit on this post-baby body, but I still have the price tag from a chain store that I don't even think exists these days). There's an old copy of Gone with the Wind that's literally rubber-banded together because the binding broke, it's missing pages and what's left has yellowed (then again, it was my first copy of GWTW, given to me by a favorite English teacher who encouraged me to write.) I have approximately nine zillion business cards that I've accumulated at all manner of events but don't actually use for any practical purpose. I have drawings from kids who were once in my Pre-K class, back when I dreamed of one day having children of my own but were told my doctors that it was unlikely. (So dh and I filed for adoption, immediately got pregnant and now have TWO children, one of whom just finished Pre-K this year).
When I open that closet door and see the piles and shelves and overstuffed bags, I always think that it's time to get stern with myself and throw at least half of it away. Do I really NEED the champagne cork from the day J proposed? (Sunday, Dec 1, 12 and a half years ago). I have this conversation with myself about three times a year, and wade into the mess, resolute.
And the same thing always happens. Two hours later, I find myself sitting on old newspapers, my eyes misting up at my mother's wedding picture and the plaster cast I made of my daughter's foot when she was a few months old. I didn't get much packing done, but I thumbed through cover flats of my first three books and relived the thrill of my first sale. I stopped to appreciate all that I've accomplished in the last decade and thought about the people who mean the most to me. (Note to self: It's been way too long since you talked to your aunt in Tennessee or your best friend from high school.) I called my children into the closet to laugh at early pieces of artwork and to show my ballerina daughter pictures of me in a recital twentysomething years ago. (We were doing Cinderella. I was a lady in waiting, and my younger sister was a mouse in the same production.) And, oh yeah, I found my conference badge with its three lovely silver RITA pins.
Even if it wasn't a productive afternoon in the strictest sense, it was time well spent. Eventually, I shut the door on my memories and told myself that maybe NEXT time I'll clean some of it out...but I doubt it.
So what about you guys? Pack-rats, neatnicks, or a healthy, happy medium somewhere in between?
1. I can never find anything
in large part because
2. I keep EVERYTHING!
I hold onto the strangest things. There's a piece of driftwood my husband and I found walking on the beach when we were engaged. There's a tag cut off the first dress he brought me (a cute red and white polka dot number that went in the Goodwill pile YEARS ago and would not fit on this post-baby body, but I still have the price tag from a chain store that I don't even think exists these days). There's an old copy of Gone with the Wind that's literally rubber-banded together because the binding broke, it's missing pages and what's left has yellowed (then again, it was my first copy of GWTW, given to me by a favorite English teacher who encouraged me to write.) I have approximately nine zillion business cards that I've accumulated at all manner of events but don't actually use for any practical purpose. I have drawings from kids who were once in my Pre-K class, back when I dreamed of one day having children of my own but were told my doctors that it was unlikely. (So dh and I filed for adoption, immediately got pregnant and now have TWO children, one of whom just finished Pre-K this year).
When I open that closet door and see the piles and shelves and overstuffed bags, I always think that it's time to get stern with myself and throw at least half of it away. Do I really NEED the champagne cork from the day J proposed? (Sunday, Dec 1, 12 and a half years ago). I have this conversation with myself about three times a year, and wade into the mess, resolute.
And the same thing always happens. Two hours later, I find myself sitting on old newspapers, my eyes misting up at my mother's wedding picture and the plaster cast I made of my daughter's foot when she was a few months old. I didn't get much packing done, but I thumbed through cover flats of my first three books and relived the thrill of my first sale. I stopped to appreciate all that I've accomplished in the last decade and thought about the people who mean the most to me. (Note to self: It's been way too long since you talked to your aunt in Tennessee or your best friend from high school.) I called my children into the closet to laugh at early pieces of artwork and to show my ballerina daughter pictures of me in a recital twentysomething years ago. (We were doing Cinderella. I was a lady in waiting, and my younger sister was a mouse in the same production.) And, oh yeah, I found my conference badge with its three lovely silver RITA pins.
Even if it wasn't a productive afternoon in the strictest sense, it was time well spent. Eventually, I shut the door on my memories and told myself that maybe NEXT time I'll clean some of it out...but I doubt it.
So what about you guys? Pack-rats, neatnicks, or a healthy, happy medium somewhere in between?
A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss
A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss
Thanks and have a great week.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Rolling through the Heartland
When this post goes live in the early hours of Saturday morning, I'll be rolling through the desert in either Utah or Nevada on my way to San Francisco for the Romance Writers of America National Conference. I'm not a flyer, so I like to travel by Amtrak. I get to kick back, do some work, watch the scenery go by, and dream up stories about the places and people outside the train's windows. Because while the middle of the nation may be "fly-over" country, the train takes me through the areas filled with Harlequin American readers and the settings for many wonderful small-town stories. Places like Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Utah, and Nevada.
There's nothing quite like writing a story set in Colorado while sitting on a train winding along the Colorado River in the rugged western part of the state. Or watching the sun come up over the desert, a landscape so very different from where I live in the South, and brainstorming ideas for a story set there. What characters would live there? Why? What would their romantic conflict be?
I've done the same thing on car trips. How many of you have gone on vacation and come back with at least one story idea?
It's interesting to think about creating a story in a setting that perhaps doesn't get as much exposure as, say, Texas. :) I mean, I'm sure there are wonderful hero types in Nebraska. Maybe he runs a wagon train for tourists who want to experience life along the Oregon Trail. Or what about a firefighter in Iowa? He not only fights fires, but he has to rescue people caught in blizzards. Imagine if you were the heroine caught in that blizzard and hunky rescue guy showed up to dig you out of the snow. Oh yeah, the ideas are popping. I have a feeling I'll be jotting down snippets in my notebook as my train rolls across the Great Plains, the Front Range, the Rockies, the desert Southwest, and the Sierra Nevada.
So, readers, tell me about some places you'd like to see stories set that you haven't seen. And writers, what story ideas have you had that were generated by trips not taken for that purpose?
There's nothing quite like writing a story set in Colorado while sitting on a train winding along the Colorado River in the rugged western part of the state. Or watching the sun come up over the desert, a landscape so very different from where I live in the South, and brainstorming ideas for a story set there. What characters would live there? Why? What would their romantic conflict be?
I've done the same thing on car trips. How many of you have gone on vacation and come back with at least one story idea?
It's interesting to think about creating a story in a setting that perhaps doesn't get as much exposure as, say, Texas. :) I mean, I'm sure there are wonderful hero types in Nebraska. Maybe he runs a wagon train for tourists who want to experience life along the Oregon Trail. Or what about a firefighter in Iowa? He not only fights fires, but he has to rescue people caught in blizzards. Imagine if you were the heroine caught in that blizzard and hunky rescue guy showed up to dig you out of the snow. Oh yeah, the ideas are popping. I have a feeling I'll be jotting down snippets in my notebook as my train rolls across the Great Plains, the Front Range, the Rockies, the desert Southwest, and the Sierra Nevada.
So, readers, tell me about some places you'd like to see stories set that you haven't seen. And writers, what story ideas have you had that were generated by trips not taken for that purpose?
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Forever Blowing Bubbles
Blowing bubbles is one of those timeless things. Kids loved it when I was a kid, kids love it today—and apparently lots of grownups love it, too.There are no longer any young children at my house, but every summer I still buy several colorful plastic bottles of bubble solution—the kind that come with the little plastic wands inside—and set them around outside on patio tables.
I always smile when bubbles float past the kitchen window and the only person lounging in the backyard is my husband. Guests will often take a minute or two to blow some bubbles, which usually prompts someone to say, “Hey, remember when we were kids and we used to...?”
When I bought this year’s supply of bubble solution, the store was also selling a device called a Bubblator. It promised to make lots of big bubbles, but it required some assembly and some batteries. The Bubblator didn’t seem as active as the old dip-and-blow method, so I put it back on the rack and came home with the usual bottles and wands instead.
But as I sat down to write this blog, curiosity got the better of me. I did a Google search for “bubblator” and discovered what I’m missing.
I might just go back to the store and buy a Bubblator after all, because we all know bubbles aren’t just for kids, right?
Until next time,
Lee
The Writer Side of Life
ETA: Ellen posted a comment about homemade bubble solutions. Neither of us could remember all of the ingredients, but this link tells all! If you try any of these recipes, we'd love to hear about them!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
I probably blogged about this sometime before but for those who don't know, my daughter and I recently went on a cruise to Alaska. We had a wonderful time (oh, my gosh, who couldn't?) and saw things you can only imagine (and we ate A LOT of food, too).One of the highlights for me was bingo - just kidding, I didn't win a thing. Actually, if I were pressed to say, the two coolest things were the glacier we visited and the canoe ride and rain forest hike we took on Prince Rupert Island.
Because of too much ice, our ship was diverted from the original glacier we were scheduled to visit. What at first seemed like a disappoint-ment turned into a history making day. Our captain obtained permission to take us to another glacier, one reserved for cruise ships one-tenth our size. He handled our giant ship like it was a VW Bug and got us to within 600 feet of the glacier, the closest a cruise ship our size has ever been. Yes, I took a million pictures.
Prince Rupert was absolutely the greenest and vastest place I have ever seen - remember, I live in the Phoenix area and am a desert rat. About 18 of us boarded a canoe and paddled across the bay to an isolated arm of the island. Besides the amazing lushness of the forest, the wildlife was incredible. I saw (and took a million pictures of) about a dozen eagles, most immature with brown heads but a few "bald". Our Native American guides caught fresh Dungeness crab right off the shore and boiled it for our lunch. I also learned how to survive in the Prince Rupert rain forest by eating local plants, should I ever be lost there (grin).
Here's on picture of my daughter and I getting off the ship at Juno. She's the young, very pretty girl if you couldn't tell. If anyone is going to be at the RWA National convention next week, stop to chat if you want to hear more about our incredible trip.
Warmest wishes,
Cathy McDavid
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Waiting and Waiting
On Friday night, my son returned home from Europe. This two week trip was the culmination of eleven months of anxious preparation. We signed him up last August, and ever since, we’ve been paying for the trip and counting down days. Oh, he was so excited when he left. I was excited for him - and I couldn’t wait to get emails from him along the way, sharing all kinds of stories about his trip.
That didn’t happen.
See, we thought there were going to be all kinds of Internet cafes everywhere he went. If there were, he didn’t find them.(or didn't look very hard!) No, for two weeks, all we got were two texts from friends’ phones and one short paragraph from Austria.
One was a request for more money.
So, I worried. I wondered what he was doing. I missed him. And then well, I started getting irritated. I mean, honestly, couldn’t he have tried just a little bit harder to contact us?
All those grumpy feelings gave way to sympathy last Friday night. He had the worst flight schedule. He flew from Prague to Frankfort to Washington, DC to Chicago to Cincinnati, arriving bright and shiny at midnight. (yawn!) Even that crazy schedule didn’t go as planned.
But we did get a phone call out of it.
He called at 4:30 am from Frankfort. “There’s a bomb scare, so they closed the terminal,” said in only the way a 17 year old can alternately ask for sympathy and inform us to not make a fuss. After that phone call, we started hearing from him a lot. He got out of Germany. Almost didn’t make it through customs in Washington. Oh…his plane was delayed in Chicago. Actually, it was really delayed.
Actually it was two hours late.
So, that’s how I ended up being at the Cincinnati airport at two in the morning last Friday night-er Saturday morning. Finally, at 2:15 a crowd of kids came out of the terminal-each looking more exhausted than the next. There, in the middle, was my son. Six inches taller than me. Looking tired but happy. "Hi Dad," he said, but I got the first hug.
I reached up, kissed his cheek, hugged him tight, and finally breathed a big sigh of relief.
My prodigal son had come back home.
That didn’t happen.
See, we thought there were going to be all kinds of Internet cafes everywhere he went. If there were, he didn’t find them.(or didn't look very hard!) No, for two weeks, all we got were two texts from friends’ phones and one short paragraph from Austria.
One was a request for more money.
So, I worried. I wondered what he was doing. I missed him. And then well, I started getting irritated. I mean, honestly, couldn’t he have tried just a little bit harder to contact us?
All those grumpy feelings gave way to sympathy last Friday night. He had the worst flight schedule. He flew from Prague to Frankfort to Washington, DC to Chicago to Cincinnati, arriving bright and shiny at midnight. (yawn!) Even that crazy schedule didn’t go as planned.
But we did get a phone call out of it.
He called at 4:30 am from Frankfort. “There’s a bomb scare, so they closed the terminal,” said in only the way a 17 year old can alternately ask for sympathy and inform us to not make a fuss. After that phone call, we started hearing from him a lot. He got out of Germany. Almost didn’t make it through customs in Washington. Oh…his plane was delayed in Chicago. Actually, it was really delayed.
Actually it was two hours late.
So, that’s how I ended up being at the Cincinnati airport at two in the morning last Friday night-er Saturday morning. Finally, at 2:15 a crowd of kids came out of the terminal-each looking more exhausted than the next. There, in the middle, was my son. Six inches taller than me. Looking tired but happy. "Hi Dad," he said, but I got the first hug.
I reached up, kissed his cheek, hugged him tight, and finally breathed a big sigh of relief.
My prodigal son had come back home.
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