CONQUERING FEARS

My family went on a cruise last week. With two teenagers, it’s the perfect vacation for us…plenty to do, relatively safe surroundings, sun and plenty of places to sit and tan and relax. For one week, we did all that. I returned last night a whole lot tanner, a whole lot more relaxed, and with a whole lot of laundry to do.

The highlight of the trip was an all day excursion called ‘Conquering Your Fears’. It involved hanging from a zip line in the Costa Rican jungle, followed by lunch and then hanging on for dear life while white water rafting.

No, this wasn’t my choice.

For some reason, I gave birth to two children who have no fears when it comes to either heights or deep water with big rocks in it. Nope, when it comes to excitement and fun, they’re my husband’s kids, through and through. At 7am, when we boarded the bus, they were all smiles. I looked longingly at the group of people off to study sloths.

First up, the zip-line. After outfitting us with helmets, liability forms, and a whole lot of hooks and cords, our group climbed a rather narrow, steep path to a platform. Then, one by one, we were hooked onto the zip line, given instructions how to slow down, and told to jump. Yeah. Being the good mother that I am, I made my kids go first. My husband, knowing me as well as he does, made me go before him.

I jumped and sped along the line, doing my best not to scream so I wouldn’t embarrass my 14 year old. I was never so happy to see the platform and the cute Costa Rican with arms outstretched, ready to grab me and pull me back to solid ground. But, no, it wasn’t over. I had to do it all over again six more times.

Whitewater rafting wasn’t much better. Oh, I’ve rafted before on the Colorado River. Somehow, though, it’s a whole lot different when we were subjected to an hour and fifteen minutes of class II and III rapids and monkeys laughing at us from the trees. Lucky for me, they had a guy taking pictures in a nearby kayak.

Now we have lots of memories of me holding on for dear life while trying not to scream.

Ten hours later, we boarded the ship just before we left beautiful Costa Rica. My husband, being the good guy that he is, let me use the shower first, handed me a drink, and told me he heard Baked Alaska was on the menu for dinner. For the first time all day, I smiled.

Did I conquer my fears? No, not really. I jumped and clung and closed my eyes and prayed. I experienced things I know I’ll never forget. And I told my family that they should never, ever doubt how much I loved them…because I wouldn’t have done that day for anyone else. And my kids and husband, God bless them, said the day wouldn’t have been the same without me. Hearing that, as they say….was priceless.

Frustrated Bargain Hunter

Why is it that every time I see something I really, really want, it's too much money? I'd like to believe it's because I have good taste, but I think it's more along the lines of bad timing--just missing the sale.

I don’t know about anyone else but I'm a bargain hunter. I keep a list of things (my want list, not my need list) in my purse at all times. For the past four or five months I've been searching for something to go on the wall above our bed. I finally found it--a gorgeous mirror at Pier One Imports. I've been watching it for two months--never goes on sale. I joined their e-mail list and received a promise of a fantastic coupon "soon." It's been a month and no coupon. Made two trips back to the store--still not on sale.

The other object of my desire is a framed picture from Hobby Lobby for the master bathroom wall. The one I found in the store was damaged and even at a 60% discount I didn’t think I could repair the frame. So I asked for a rain check and they assured me it would be in last week. Nope. No Picture. They gave me another rain check and told me to return next week if they didn't call me. More waiting.

Yesterday my husband asked me to tally up the savings on both items…$60. Then he asked how much money I spent in gas keeping tabs on the items. Over two months, maybe $10-15. Then he asked me how much writing time I gave up to track the items, maybe 5-6 hours. I always stop and check out a few other stores along the way--but that's beside the point. You see where I'm heading with this….?

So I'm proud to report that I bought the da**ed mirror yesterday! Yeah!! As for the picture, I'm still waiting. (Sigh)

Anyone care to share their latest bargain hunting woes?

Happy Shopping!
Marin Thomas
www.marinthomas.com

Ouch! That Feels Good

Imagine this conversation among a group of women at the local park, while they keep an eye on their romping kids:

1st Woman: Molly, you feed your son too much junk food. And frankly, he needs a good spanking.

2nd Woman: I’m not sure I agree about the spanking, but he’s definitely overactive. You should take him to a psychologist.

3rd Woman: It’s probably the sugar that’s making him act up. If I were you, I’d empty all my cabinets of sweets. Also, he’s outgrowing his clothes, and those pants have big holes in the knees.

Can you imagine Molly’s response? Possibly, “Who the heck do you people think you are?” Or, “You’re not so perfect yourselves!”

Yet we authors voluntarily do this to each other. I’ve belonged to a critique group for more than thirty years, and every other week, we take turns reading our work aloud and receiving criticism. There’s praise as well, but plenty of suggestions for improvement.

In case you’re wondering if it hurts, the answer is yes. We’d all love to be told that no one can find a thing wrong with what we’ve written. But that’s pointless. A dedicated writer wants to improve any way she can. She HAS to improve, for the sake of her readers and her career.

I’m fortunate to belong to a group of terrific writers whom, over the years, I’ve had the great pleasure of hearing read their work aloud. Among past and present members: Neal Shusterman, Donald Stanwood, Elizabeth George, T. Jefferson Parker, and the late Barbara Seranella. I can’t claim that my critiques made a significant difference in their novels, but perhaps I helped with a tweak here or there.

Writing’s hard, no matter how long you’ve been doing it. Every story is a challenge, and when I venture into new territory, such as women’s fiction, I have to learn my craft all over again. True, at a higher level than when I started, but there are still a lot of stumbles. I’d rather hear about them from my friends than from a disappointed reviewer or reader.

I’ve outgrown the stage of life where I take my little kids to the park and share a bench with my fellow moms. But I’ll never outgrow my need for constructive criticism from my fellow authors.

Time Off for Good Behavior

Writers in general are awfully hard on themselves, and I am no exception. Way back in the dark ages, when I decided to quit my job to become a full-time writer, I made a promise to myself. I was not going to be one of those writers who played around at the craft, who wrote "when I have time." I was a full-time, eight-hours-a-day writer, often including weekends. I did not take vacations or sick days or mental health days. I intended to give it all I had, every ounce of time, energy and determination I could squeeze out of myself.

And I did.

Flash forward twenty years. Although I'm not quite the whip-cracker I used to be, I still spend at least seven or eight hours a day in my office minimum, working on writing or writing-related activities. If I travel for any reason, I take the laptop with me so I can write during any lull in activities. In my car, I listen to writing workshops or I use my little recorder to dictate my writing. I am literally afraid to take time off. I'm afraid the gods will punish me for being "lazy."

But I've just come off an incredibly difficult year of tight deadlines, lots of revisions, editor changes, and teaching lots and lots of workshops. I promised myself I would take some time off to handle everything I've neglected in recent months--getting my hair cut, for example. Taking my pets to the vet. Income tax forms. Scrubbing the bathtub.

My original plan was to take off a year from Harlequin American. Yes, a year! I have books scheduled pretty far into the future, so I wouldn't be interrupting my publication schedule. I wanted to take one month off of writing completely, then spend the rest of the year working on a couple of other books (big suspense books) that I never seem to find time to write.

I quickly revised the initial plan. A year without Harlequin was unthinkable. Six months would surely be enough of a break to refresh me.

But now, two weeks into my "vacation" (hah!) I'm already starting to get antsy to write another Harlequin American. As a matter of fact, I have a proposal for a new trilogy almost ready to go--it just needs a bit of polish. It's calling to me from its file folder with its siren song. Forget that dark, scary suspense book. Come play with me, I'm light and funny!

Three weeks off is enough, right?

More than One Way to Turn Pages...by Tanya Michaels

Does anyone remember that ad campaign for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (mmmm, peanut butter cups) about how there’s “more than one way to eat a Reese’s?” Well, it never occurred to me that there’s more than one way to read a book. I assumed most readers followed a similar pattern to mine…pick the book up, start at that opening first paragraph and read (often compulsively and through the night!) until I hit the last page, then sigh in satisfaction as I close the covers and reach for the lamp.

Yet there seems to be—gasp—an epidemic of people who do nearly the opposite! Imagine my surprise when I learned that my sister, best friend and favorite aunt all read the last chapter first. This blows my mind. “But doesn’t that spoil the ending? Aren’t you taking it all out of context? It probably makes more sense when you understand…” Yet these people hold firm that if they hate the way it ends or there’s an unhappy resolution, they don’t want to waste their time reading the 300 pages that come before.

What about you guys? Do you like the safety of knowing how a book or movie ends before you spend time or money on it? Do you trail the internet looking for spoilers on your favorite television shows, or when someone starts to tell you the latest rumor of who breaks up with whom on Grey’s Anatomy, do you cover your ears?

I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. I love romance novels because 99.99% of the time, the hero and heroine resolve their differences and find happiness together, so in a way, I do know the end. But I like taking the journey with them instead of “cheating” and looking at the map ahead of time. Of course, my husband would tell you I wouldn’t get in half as much trouble as I do if I bothered to read maps, but that’s another story…

New York, New York

Hi guys,
I'm off to the Big Apple - home of Times Square, the Statue of Liberty and knock-off purses. I've been up to my neck in deadlines, but I managed to finish everything yesterday. Yeah! And now I'm ready to go to the PASIC (RWA's Published Authors' Special Interest Chapter) conference. It'll be a wonderful opportunity to meet new people, learn some great stuff about the publishing industry, and see a couple of Broadway shows. What better way to spend a long weekend? So until later - right now, I'm heading downstairs to pack. Ann

Spring has sprung

I love spring. Here in the Seattle area, spring means vivid and abundant color. Cherry and magnolia trees, forsythia, tulips, daffodils, and a host of other flowers—we have them all in our yard. But while I love the beauty, I don’t enjoy pulling weeds and keeping the plants healthy and producing.

I’m what you call an armchair garden lover. I appreciate the beauty and like to sit outside and enjoy it, but I don’t do much of the upkeep. If I lived alone I’d hire a gardener, even if it is expensive. Fortunately, my husband loves to putz around in garden as often as possible. Weather permitting, he’s out there pulling weeds, digging, planting, mulching. All organically. Yep, he’s one of those.

Out of chicken wire he made a compost bin where we dump our non-meat, non-dairy food waste. It’s out back, on the side of the house, and for some reason, doesn’t smell at all. Every so often he turns the decomposing goop with a shovel. When it decomposes enough, he spreads it over the garden to enrich the soil. This year he and a friend drove to a farm and picked up a truckload of manure. Now that smelled. I stayed inside that day! But I’ll reap the rewards when the raspberry and blueberry bushes produce huge crops.

I’m thinking that writing is a lot like tending a garden. We writers have our own brain compost piles, that creative well within. We’re always tossing in tidbits—overheard snippets of conversation, intriguing newspaper stories, or anything that catches our interest. The mixture sits in our head awhile, and now and then we stir it a bit, thinking, I wonder whether… What would happen if? And voilá—a story is born.

As for the manure… Well, I’ll leave you to draw your own analogies.

Happy spring, everyone.


Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net

What's upcoming????

I just heard from my editor last week about my release schedule for 2007 & the first part of 2008.

Thought this would be a good time for the HAR authors to chime in and comment on what you can be looking forward to for the rest of 2007. I know I'm always curious as to when things are coming out, and eharlequin only gives you a few months in advance. Now you'll be able to access the archive if you forget when that next book by your favorite author is out.

Here's mine:

Nine Months' Notice (4 stars from RT), out April 2007 (so look for it next month)! This ends the American Beauties miniseries.

Hart's Victory, my NASCAR continuity book, out in November 2007.

The Christmas Date (formerly titled Picture Perfect), a Harlequin American out in December 2007.

Michele Dunaway

TEACHING AND WRITING AND BEARS, OH, MY

The hero of A Small-Town Girl is Cary Hudson. Cary’s a high school teacher…Algebra to be exact.
I had a lot of fun imagining his life at Lane’s End High because for ten years, I taught school, too. And, if I’m going to be completely honest, I miss the friendships I made, and the sense of community a faculty has more than I miss being around twelve year olds. Hmm…maybe because I have two teenagers at home?
I seem to run into a lot of writers who are former teachers. I stopped teaching because we got transferred to Ohio and my husband encouraged me to finally give writing a try. Usually, I never think about the days of sweaty classrooms or ‘morning work’. But every now and then, a memory surfaces, and I have to smile.
Yesterday was one of those days. My son was talking about taking drivers ed in a trailer and how thin the walls were—a Jazzersize class was going on next door.
For two years, I taught in a mountain school in Colorado, in a trailer. We’d just been transferred to the Denver area from Dallas, and I was extremely lucky to get a job. But what a change that school was! No longer was I teaching executives’ kids in suburban Dallas…now I was teaching rancher’s kids, country kids…kids who did chores at six in the morning before coming to school. I learned a lot about life from them, and I’m sure they got a laugh out of me…the city girl from Texas who wore heels and didn’t know a thing about snowstorms, cattle ranches…or bears.
Yep, one day, there I was, teaching spelling, when I noticed not a one of them was paying a bit of attention to me. They were all looking out the window. Next, I got a message on the intercom, telling me not to let any kids out of the trailer—there was a bear on the playground.
I ran to the window, and finally noticed what my twenty-five kids had already seen—a big black bear, just twenty feet away, wandering around.
I had never read anything about bears in the teaching manuals. Doing my best, I swallowed my fear and told everyone to REMAIN CALM.
And that’s when it hit me…they knew that bear. He’d been in a couple of the kids’ trashcans just the week before. He visited the school a few times a year. I was the only one freaking out. Those fifth graders started laughing at me. Finally, I started laughing, too. Spelling went away and we spent the next hour sitting on desks and watching the bear. The kids told me stories about his antics and I learned to appreciate being in a mountain school.
Any other teachers or former teachers who remember little stories like that? When the lesson plans go out the window and life takes over? Here’s to all of us having little experiences that are new and different and perfectly memorable.

Welcome, Spring!

Hello on this first day of Spring, 2007. In Dallas it is rather dreary but warm today. The birds are chirping and the squirrels are searching and I'm sneezing. Well, the pollen count is rather high down here in Texas. Since I grew up in a colder climate, I'm actually pretty glad to see Spring right now, rather than a few months away.

The weather often reminds me that I would rather be outdoors than sitting at my desk, writing my new proposals for "Brody's Crossing," my new series for Harlequin American Romance which begins in July. I've tried to take my laptop outside, but then the dog wants to play ball, and I see some weeds that need to be pulled, and the little fountain needs water. On and on. I believe that's called writing avoidance. I'm rather good at it! Fortunately, once I do get focused, I'm a fairly fast writer, so I try to make up some of the time I should have spent writing.

I'm very excited about my new stories. They are about characters I've introduced in the first two books - the brother of the hero from the first book, and the childhood best friend of the hero in the second book. I also gave my new Texas town a female mayor. I've tried to set up defunct businesses like we see in most small towns - motels that have failed, an empty train station, former small businesses that have gone away once a megastore moves in. My mayor is on a quest to revitalize the town, so I gave her plenty of places to work her magic. And, for me, plenty of opportunities for new characters to come to town. For example, the heroine in the third book that I'm working on right now is going to fix up the Sweet Dreams Motel in a retro style that will be a lot of fun to research. There are several motels in Texas already done this way. And, of course, since I'm of "a certain age," I remember the actual style when it wasn't retro!

So, happy springtime, everyone, and happy writing, whether you are currently looking out your window at storms, snow, sunshine, or clouds.

Victoria

When Funny Things Happen at Sober Moments

It was a sober moment. My husband was outside my car, standing in the pouring rain, motioning me closer to the curb. After maneuvering back and forth between two parked cars, I finally got the job done. I grabbed my umbrella. Not just any umbrella. (Warming: I am about to go off on a brief tangent.)This baby is a beaut. I first saw her in a SkyMall magazine, when I was flying home from a visit with my parents. I live in Seattle, where it rains all winter long, and this big ol’ umbrella called to me. I’ve never bought a thing from an airplane magazine, and I stuffed the thing into the seat pocket. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that umbrella. Black, with a row of red silk roses sewn round the rim. Closed it looks like a bouquet. Open, it’s an umbrella rimmed with roses. Pretty! I was in love, and darned if I didn’t slide the magazine back out of the pocket and stash it in my purse.

The next morning I went online and ordered. Ten days later she arrived (yes, I have given her a sex and a name—female, Rosie.) To my surprise, those roses aren’t silk at all. They’re made of some nameless red fabric and stitched into the rim by their plastic, two-inch-long stems. The funkiest thing you ever saw! Not so beautiful as the picture; in fact kinda ugly. But she’s still ultra cool, and I’m not the only one who believes this. Everywhere I carry Rosie, I get comments from women who want one just like her. Who’d have thought?

Anyway, as soon as I parked the car nice and close to the curb, I grabbed Rosie, whom I keep in the back seat of my car. When I pulled her into the front seat I accidentally hit the latch. She popped open. Fully open she’s way too big for my car. I couldn’t even open her all the way. I tried to close her back up to her trim little self, but for some reason that didn’t work, either. I tried twice without any luck. Then I realized how funny the whole thing was. Well, I got the giggles. There I was, in the front seat of my Prius, laughing hysterically and trying to control my rebellious umbrella, while my husband got wetter by the second. Hey, he could’ve stayed dry if only he’d grabbed Rosie for himself. But for some reason he won’t touch her.

At last I closed the thing and exited the car. My husband just shook his head. But I kept on laughing.

Next time he rides in my car he’ll bring his own umbrella.

Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net

First Sale!!!!

The Harlequin American Romance authors are delighted to announce that one lucky lady got the call from Kathleen Scheibling. Joining the line with a 2008 release is author Megan Kelly, a resident of Illinois and member of the Missouri RWA chapter (www.morwa.org). And yes, for those of you curious, the book was sold on complete! Congrats, Megan.

Hi, I’m a brand new Harlequin American author, Megan Kelly. So new, in fact, we haven’t decided on a title for my book yet! However, it’s due on the shelves next spring, so I’ll keep you posted. I’ve been writing for quite a few years, striving to improve my work in hopes of finding a home with Harlequin.

I read my first Harlequin Romance at thirteen and fell in love with the stories. I started writing four years later, but it wasn’t until I’d married and had two children that I met one of my favorite authors, Kathleen Korbel (aka thriller writer Eileen Dreyer) and discovered RWA. Without the support of my local chapter, I’d still be struggling with my first manuscript.

I’ve been very lucky to have my mss recognized in RWA chapter contests, winning the Maggie and the Molly, and finaling in the Emily and the 1st Impressions, each with different works.

My upcoming release—how exciting that sounds!—is a story of unlikely lovers vying for the CEO position of a major Chicago firm. Sort of Romeo and Juliet meets “The Apprentice.” LOL

I want to thank Michele Dunaway for all her advice and kindness over the years and for this opportunity to say hi.

Megan

Aren't I the lucky one!

Seventeen's my favorite number, I'm blogging on dear old St. Paddy's Day and, sure and y'know, I'm Irish, to boot! At least three-eighths, by the family's last reckoning.

The funny thing is, though, on St. Patrick's Day that fraction turns to 100 proof... Uh, I mean 100 percent. (Don't blame me. I was led astray by a recent blogging here about moonshine. Nothing my ancestors would know anything about!)

Anyhow...

This all has gotten me thinking again about a story idea I have in mind, one I hope will hit the shelves some day. It's about a heroine from a 100-percent Irish family, a large loving group of eccentrics, including one close relative who's considered "more Irish than the Irish" even when it's not the family's favorite holiday.

Don't you have friends and relations like that, too? People who suddenly become more of...whatever they need to be when the occasion arises? The life of the party. The master of ceremonies. Santa Claus in a red suit or the Easter bunny if the situation demands it. They'd convert to a new religion if it would get them more gifts for the holidays.

I meet a heckuva of a lot of Irishmen on March 17th who haven't got a drop of Irish blood in them. (Whiskey's another story, however.)
But what the hey, I'm not greedy. I don't drink whiskey, so there's plenty to go around.

And believe it or not, it's not all about the booze! There's just something magical about being an Irishman in tribute to St. Patrick.

So if those friends or relatives like to sign on as honorary members for the day—or if you've a mind to give it a whirl, yourself, now—I say, have at it.

Or, maybe I should I say, the luck o' the Irish to you!


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

Barbara White Daille

Fact or Fiction

Are readers demanding more "reality" in their fiction these days? I think so.

And it's not the suspense, mystery or thriller novels I'm referring to--it's straight up romance. What does that mean for the romance writer? Research. And lots of it.

Today's romance heroes and heroines are DEA agents, firefighters, cops, soldiers, country western singers and a slew of other occupations, each demanding factual data to support their character. I've done more research for the book I'm working on right now, FOR THE CHILDREN (Oct 07) the first book in my new series "Heart of Appalachia" than I have in all my other books combined. Not only was I faced with the challenge of researching an area of the country I've never lived in or visited for any length of time, but the occupation of my heroine was something I knew zip about--bootlegging. Yes, my heroine has her own still and makes moonshine

It's easy for me to lose myself in the factual details and often my CP will remind me that first and foremost the story is about two people falling in love. I sometimes struggle with how much is too much or not enough when it comes to adding tidbits of truth and reality to my stories.

Opinions anyone? How much factual information do you like in your romances?

Happy reading!
Marin
www.marinthomas.com

Harlequin American Romance Authors: The voice on the phone

Harlequin American Romance Authors: The voice on the phone

The voice on the phone

When I first started sending out manuscripts in the hopes of selling one, I ran to the mailbox eagerly each day. Okay, I was about twelve, but I think at any age a writer nurtures dreams and fantasies of that wonderful letter of acceptance.

Well, as a beginner, I did receive a few. A small essay published in the readers’ section of a teen magazine. A poem here. A book review there.

But as I grew up, I discovered that mostly what comes in the mail are rejections. Although I’ve sold 80 books over the past 25 years, my rejections are probably (no exaggeration) ten times that many. I could paper my two-story house if I’d saved them all.

Creative people are really good at finding ways to torture ourselves. (Maybe my story is totally off-base … I didn’t put in enough sexual tension …it can’t possibly compare to all those wonderful books I see at the store.) Rejection hurts because it makes us doubt ourselves. And that gets old fast.

What never gets old is the voice of an editor on the phone saying, “I love your book. I want to buy it.”

There are variations, especially in an ongoing editor-author relationship. Sometimes it’s more along the lines of, “It’s a go. Now for the revisions…” Or, “This works fine. But about those contract terms…”

But buried inside is the happy news. There’s going to be a beautiful book – or two or three -- with your name on it.

I’m pleased to report that last week I once again heard a voice on the phone. For Harlequin American, my editor bought a trilogy about a group of neighbors who could give Desperate Housewives a run for their money. It’s going to be fun to write and, I hope, fun to read when it comes out in 2008.

I’ve earned another chance to touch readers’ hearts. What more could an author ask?

Happy International Pi Day!!!

Ahh . . . Nothing quite says fun like a double trip to the dentist--not!! LOL!! Alas, that's my day's fate. Son #1 has a cleaning scheduled in the morning, and Son #2 has a couple cavities to be filled in the afternoon.

I so envy friends who are able to hammer out a day's pages in fifteen-minute snippets, but it seems like more and more I need loads of uninterrupted time to write. Not that I'll even spend it all writing, just that emotionally, if I know I've got to look presentable and chat with school ladies and the dental office receptionist, I figure what's the point of even trying to write? If there are any armchair psychiatrists lurking out there, why do I suffer from this affliction??

In fun happenings, my new website's up and running! (lauramariealtom.com)After years of working through a middleman, I'm proud to say I did this one myself!! Funny how no one in the family views my writing as any big deal, other than that if I'm needing the computer during *myspace* time, I'm a huge imposition!! That said, everyone wanted to have a say in what pics of them went up. In the end, I went with the pics I like best, but for the record, both sons wanted *cooler* fare. Daughter was happy, and Hubby was happy once I put his Cozumel pic back up, which apparently he really likes--who knew?? LOL!!

Today is International Pi Day!!! How do I know? I spent a large portion of last night coloring a Pi Day poster. Good thing I write instead of doing math, because even after studying this fact for three hours, I still don't get it!! What I do get, is that it's a great excuse to eat pie, which I'm always up for!! LOL!!

Guys simply don't get it

Hi,
I just got back from visiting my friend Geri Krotow (another Everlasting Love author) in Belgium. We had a ball - it was true outlet shopping at its best. Skip the cathedrals - okay, I'll confess, we did visit the one in Ghent on our way to the 40% off Flemish tapestry shop. Bypass the art museums - there was a Van Gogh in that same cathedral. One of the monks in the painting was wearing the same shoes I was - amend that to the same type of shoes. I don't think mine are three centuries old.

The Eiffel Tower - I've already see it. Ditto for the Mannequin Pis in Brussels. Give me the Le Cruset factory with its 75% off pots and pans. Or the Villeroy and Bock outlet in Mettlach, Germany where we rolled up our sleeves and battled the hausfraus for fine china at 4 Euro a plate.

And did I mention the bazaar in Kaiserslautern with over 200 vendors from all over Europe. It was a true black belt shoppers idea of Nirvana. Guys simply don't get it.

So here's to gourmet chocolate, German wine, Belgian beer and good friends. Ann

March Madness

March is one of my favorite months. First, spring finally arrives in Missouri. I'm one of the SAD people--I really do get the seasonal affective disorder. I need sun and lots of brightness, and the gloom of winter does me in. By the time March arrives, I'm ready.

Second, March means that spring sports begin. NASCAR. Baseball. Even better, my plants start breaking through and the buds hit the trees. I'm writing this while on spring break (hooray)!

Third, St. Patrick's Day, my favorite holiday. My daughter's and my best friend's birthday (same day--30 years apart) both follow on the 18th. This year I'm also traveling to NYC at the end of the month.

So far, March has been good to me. I've learned I get a tax refund. I've reached all my writing deadlines. I've been the lucky person updating the blog and sharing all the news about all the great sales to the Harlequin American line. I have a book out in April, and I'm getting ready for that.

I've also learned that I just sold another book--another Harlequin NASCAR series continuity. Out of Line will be a May 2008 release.

So I'm quite upbeat and excited. I love sharing good news, and there's a lot of it! (Congrats to Jacqueline Diamond on a 3-book sale!) After March 17, I'll post all the details about the first saler to the line.

So in this season of March Madness, let me take a minute to thank you, the reader. You are our fans, cheering us on to victory. You're there when we lose some and there when we win some. You make us shine. Thank you.

Better Late Than Never!

I'm posting late because I've been out of town, in sunny (but freezing) Virginia Beach. I had planned to post from the airport early this morning, but I couldn't find a hot spot and I ran out of time.

I wish I could say I'd been in VB on a book tour, or at least doing booksignings or workshops or researching a location. But the fact is I was being a bum. Rob, my husband, was attending EpiCon, a conference for e-publishers and writers. (He is the publisher of www.BooksForABuck.com.) But I was just along for the ride, mooching his beachfront hotel room.

I'd been writing frantically on deadline for the past few weeks, so it was nice to have a few days with no agenda. I could have written if I wanted (since I brought my teeny-tiny computer), but mostly I chose to walk (on the cold beach) and birdwatch. I added five, possibly six new birds to my list. (The sixth I spotted at the airport, some kind of duck. I'll have to check the field guide to see if I can make a definitive I.D.)

It's nice to do nothing. I became a writer to get away from the overscheduled, stressful life, but lately my life has been nuts.

Downtime is essential to my writer's brain. If I don't take breaks occasionally, my subconscious rebels and refuses to give me anything. I run out of ideas and find it difficult to write. Doing nothing recharges the batteries. So does the change of scenery.

So that means I should have a new book plotted out in my head by now, eh? Well, it doesn't work quite that well. But I do feel eager to get back to my computer and start something new.

Happy Reading to You,
Kara

Surprise Blog--Lisa Childs

Harlequin American Romance is acquiring. You heard Kathleen say it in her post! This line is happening. You'll see books from established authors new to the line (Lisa Childs, Roxann Delaney, Cathy McDavid, Tanya Michaes) in 2007-2008 and you'll see a new, first sale author (we'll post more on her after March 17). You'll see those authors being added to this blog on a permanent basis in the upcoming months.

Right now, here's Lisa Childs, and I'll turn it over to her!

Hi, I’m Lisa Childs. I’ve written for Harlequin Intrigue, Harlequin NeXt, Silhouette Nocturne and now Harlequin American. I’m thrilled to be writing for Harlequin American with some of my favorite authors. My four book series, THE WEDDING PARTY, will be released in 2008.

When four old school friends reunite for one’s wedding, romance ensues between everyone but the intended bride and groom. UNEXPECTED BRIDE Abby Hamilton is used to getting blamed for everything that goes wrong in Clover, Michigan – that’s why she ran away eight years ago and never returned until her best friend asked her to stand up in her wedding. She agreed to be a bridesmaid, never a bride. Clayton McClintock isn’t thrilled Abby’s back in Clover; she’s always been a troublemaker. But now he’s the one having trouble resisting her and her adorable daughter.

In THE BEST MAN’S BRIDE, Dr. Nick Jameson never gets a chance to hand off the ring to the groom, but he finds himself tempted to slip one on the finger of the bride’s younger sister, Colleen McClintock. Too bad watching his friend get hurt has made him even more mistrusting of women.

In FOREVER HIS BRIDE jilted groom Dr. Adam Towers isn’t too upset to find himself left at the altar with the maid of honor, Brenna Kelly. While Brenna is attracted to the groom, she knows her friend will come to her senses and claim her man and his cute twin boys. Despite loyalty and friendship, she finds herself falling for Adam and his sons.

FINALLY A BRIDE Molly McClintock ran out on the wrong man into the arms of the right one. But Eric South isn’t convinced that anyone, let alone Molly, can love him and his scars. She’s already broken one engagement with Eric since she first promised to marry him when they were in second grade. Can he trust her to finally be his bride?

Lisa

Writing for Fun or Profit?

Two events made me think about writing commercial fiction; first, our lunch group (comprised of seven published and unpublished authors) is going back to our roots as a critique group. Second, I’m presenting my workshop “Writing a Synopsis That Sells” in Austin on April 10. Both critiques and synopses are necessary only if you are trying to sell your writing project. If you are writing for the pleasure of the process, you don’t need either. (In my opinion, of course!)

Critiques can be a tricky thing. Whoever is critiquing your work, whether they are multi-published or non-published readers, gives you their opinion and brings their own experience and preferences. Hopefully, they will let you know if something is a personal preference rather than a universally held truth. For example, I don’t like romances where there are two possible love interests for the heroine. (This was quite popular years ago.) That doesn’t mean some very wonderful books can’t be written with this premise. I would always tell a person I was critiquing that, if their book contained two possible heroes, it wasn’t my personal favorite. However, in another example, if someone wrote an ending to a romance where one hero and one heroine didn’t have a happy ending, I would tell them this was not workable in commercial romance fiction. The happy ending is a rule in romance. It’s one of the reasons I absolutely love reading and writing romance novels.

A synopsis is often prefaced with “dreaded,” which I don’t understand because I love to write synopses! I sold my first two books – one a historical and the other a short contemporary – on a synopsis and three chapters. I always write a synopsis before I write the book because I must. I’m not a “pantser,” who writes “from the seat of their pants.” This is a perfectly legitimate method, but it’s not mine. So, my synopsis serves as an outline to the story, defines the characters, shows motivation, action and reaction, the black moment, and the resolution.

Here’s the “commercial” part – if you’re not trying to sell your work, you don’t need to put yourself through a critique or write a synopsis. You can create what you want in any format, style or length you want, without putting yourself through hoops. That’s the joy of writing non-commercial fiction. The only problem may come when you try to mix the two! If your heart is set on selling to Harlequin, for example, there are limits to content, length, sensuality, etc. for each line. On the other hand, if you write for the joy of the written word, then don’t feel you must ever fit the mold.

Writing can be a wonderful hobby or a wonderful career. Happy writing, whatever you choose to pursue.

Old Dishes

My mom has a dozen off the most unique and beautiful plates I’ve ever seen. Her father—my grandpa— bought them for her when she was newly married. They were wandering around the Jewish section of New York City when Mom saw the big, dark-blue plates with scenes of people in the woods, on the mountains, farming, and other outdoor settings. The details are slightly raised and hand painted. Mom wanted these plates, which are about one-third larger than normal dinner plates and were designed to hang on the wall, for Thanksgiving. Her father bought them for her. We ate off them just once that I remember, back when I was a little girl. Using those plates felt so special. Recently Mom asked if I wanted the set. Do I ever! We live far apart, she in Indianapolis and I in Seattle, so she’s having them carefully wrapped and shipped to me.

I plan to use them more often than Mom did. But what if we chip one? That’s a fear I have. My grandpa wouldn’t want me to worry about that. He’d say what he always used to say, “Use them in the best of health.” And I will, but carefully.

They’ll have to be hand-washed, too, but that’s a small price to pay. The warmth I feel from this gift is deep and lovely. I’ve never considered myself sentimental, but I guess I am. It’ll be as if my grandpa, who died in 1976, were here with us.

Anyone out there feel sentimental about certain inanimate objects? Please share your stories because I’d love to know I’m not alone.

Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net

Just go with the flow!

I left town before sunrise this morning, traveling half the state away to take a test for what I do when I'm not writing, AKA the day job.

Performance test, they call it. Ha! Stress test, those of us who know better say.

I've lived through this torture before, you see, and first time around, I did stress. I studied, practiced, agonized. Tore hair, gnashed teeth, sweat blood.

This time, I said, "Forget it. I'm just gonna wing it."

And I did.

Funny thing was, this time, I felt better. I have no idea about my test results, but it felt good just to go with the flow.

"Flow" is a word that's been kicked around in psychology circles for a while now. According to the literature, flow is something you get. Something you experience. Something that is produced by doing something you really want to do.

In other words, when you're truly involved in a job or a task or a hobby, you lose yourself in the moment.

You get flow.

You could be at the office creating the perfect spreadsheet or at home polishing silverware to a diamond-bright glare. You could be cooking, painting a sunset, grouting the tub, or teaching your three-year-old to tango. You could be lazing in a hammock watching the fluttering progress of a nearby butterfly.

What you're doing doesn't matter. What's important is how you feel when you're doing it. If time stops for you, you're in flow.

That happens to me when I'm writing. Hours can go by; I don't notice. The world could go away; I wouldn't care. Heck, I can miss a meal when I'm writing—and if you knew me, you'd realize that's a very big deal! Food doesn't matter when I'm wrapped up in something I truly enjoy.

When I'm winging it.

When I've got my flow.

You know when you've got yours, too. And I'd love to hear when that is.


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

Barbara White Daille

THE DINNER PARTY THAT ALMOST WASN’T

In A Small-Town Girl, two beagles cause all kinds of trouble. Unfortunately, I have first-hand experience with this! So, in honor of my March release, here’s my personal beagle story.

I’m not a great entertainer, but I am a pretty organized hostess. I enjoy having people over, and I do enjoy that crazy, hectic excitement that comes just hours before everyone is supposed to arrive.
Unfortunately, my hostessing claim to fame is not on the many dinner parties that have been successful, but instead on the Dinner Party That Almost Wasn’t. I blame all of this on our beagle.
We have the sweetest beagle in the world. Her name is Phoebe, and she’s now 11 years old. Basically, all she really does is sleep. Her other main activity is eating…and that’s when one evening everything went wrong.
It all started when my husband, a salesman, was given an account to try to sell. After two years of hard work, he and his team were very close to getting a decision. Six people flew into Cincinnati to prepare and ultimately give the final presentation. After months of meeting in hotels, my husband and I thought it would be great to have everyone over at our house for dinner. It was a piece of cake for me to plan. I ordered a beautiful Honey Baked Ham and made a whole bunch of side dishes. The afternoon that everyone was due to arrive, I set the table, bought flowers, made sure I had drinks and coffee…even made a cake. I waited until the very last moment to get out of my sweats and put on a dress.
Well, when I got back downstairs, two things happened: the phone rang,--my husband, saying they were five minutes away, and I noticed Phoebe lying on the ground. Beside her was my ham. Yep, my beagle somehow found supernatural powers, jumped up on the table and pulled the whole 9 pound ham to the ground. She’d managed to eat a big chunk of it, too.
Oh no!
Panic set in. I had the vice president of my husband’s company due any minute! I had a giant ham mark on my white tablecloth from where the ham had been dragged off the plate and pulled down to the floor. Phoebe also wasn’t doing too well, either. She was looking a little green…obviously no ham was intended for such beagle consumption.
Hastily, I did the only thing I could…I picked up the ham, rinsed it off, lopped off the corner that looked attacked, and put it back on the plate. I found a pretty cloth napkin and hastily covered the grease spot on my linen tablecloth. I tossed the beagle outside just as the garage door opened.
After serving drinks and appetizers, everyone sat down. As everyone ate, Phoebe circled the table, just like a shark. I glared at her and tried to pretend she didn’t look seriously like she was about to, well…divest herself of the ham.
Finally, when the rest of the table was busy talking, Tom said, “Shelley, what’s wrong?”
“The dog ate half the ham,” I whispered.
Unfortunately…there’d been a break in the conversation. Everyone heard. “What?” someone asked.
I could feel my husband’s horrified glare as I tried to laugh it off. As confidently as possible, I relayed how we were all eating Phoebe’s leftovers--just as everyone was staring at their now empty plates. Almost in unison, eight forks hit the table.
And the beagle’s stomach started to gurgle.
Oh no!
Well, before I knew it, everyone left the house in a rush and I was left alone with a sick dog.
But still, there’s more!
Of course, my son needed a poster board for a school project, so I loaded my son in the front seat, beagle in the back, and ran to Walgreens. By this time it was dark. We left the beagle in the car, got the posterboard, got home and cleaned up.
The next morning, my husband woke up late, took the car, drove to the big meeting, gave his presentation, then offered to the drive the VP to the airport…where they both discovered that the beagle had uh, gotten rid of the ham in the backseat while I’d been at Walgreens. I’d been too busy with my son to notice, and my husband had been too worried about the big meeting to notice.
Needless to say, the VP wasn’t impressed.
That’s the last time I’ve offered to give a dinner party. In fact, the last time someone came in town for a meeting, Tom offered to take them to a very nice restaurant. Far away from beagles!

Generation Me

Did anyone see the news coverage citing that kids who grew up in the 1980's are "more narcissistic and self-centered than their predecessors"? Evidently teachers and parents are to blame for going overboard with phrases like "You're special." And supposedly "studies show that these kids already know their special." The article went on to say "this trend could be harmful to personal relationships and American society."

Hmm…that got me wondering if the trend might be harmful to the romance book industry. Seriously, what kind of reading material will Generation Me select as they grow older? More specifically, will Generation Me women even want to read the kind of romance novels I write?

I ponder these things because a sense of community plays an important role in the Harlequin American Romance line. Our characters' lives revolve around neighbors, friends and family. Many of the books contain story lines where the hero and heroine's goals are to help others first, themselves last. I'm worried a story like that might not appeal to a Generation Me reader.

Maybe I'm concerned for nothing. Generation Me won’t be exempt from aging. Eventually, many of them will marry and have families and along the way discover that life doesn’t revolve around them. Years down the road, the American Romance line might very well see a surge in readership. I just hope I'm still putting out books then--sheesh!

Any thoughts regarding the reading preferences of Generation Me?

Marin
www.marinthomas.com

Getting Our Names Out

When I sold my first book some 25 years ago, authors lived in a different world. No Internet. No blogs. No e-mail letters to readers. If we arranged our own publicity, it consisted of participating in a few booksignings and mailing press releases to newspapers in our home towns.

Today, there are classes and seminars devoted to teaching authors how to get their names out. We send copies of our books to websites for review, participate in chats and blogs like this one, and, of course, maintain websites (you can find mine at www.jacquelinediamond.com). We struggle to master concepts like viral marketing and virtual book tour.

Publishers have come to expect this from authors. What a mixed blessing! I love the chance to communicate directly with readers, but sometimes it’s hard to find the time.

Now, thanks to all this technology, I’m trying something new. In May, Triskelion Publishing (www.triskelionpublishing.com) will issue my first e-book, a paranormal romantic suspense called Touch Me in the Dark. It’s a sexy Gothic with a murder mystery, a ghost and a brooding, sensual hero. I’m learning the publicity ropes all over again, looking into e-book sites and chats and loops. It’s enough to make an author dizzy.

With four books coming out this year, I’ve even dared to take a shot at the Holy Grail of authors by pitching a story to Oprah. My mother, Sylvia Hyman, an internationally renowned ceramic sculptor, will turn 90 in September and has three major shows scheduled this year, including one in South Korea. I suggested a segment about mother-and-daughter creative artists and how we’ve encouraged and inspired each other throughout our long careers.

I’ll let you know how this venture turns out! In the meantime, I hope you’ll enjoy my trilogy for Harlequin American about police officers finding love and parenthood in a small town. It started with February’s The Doctor’s Little Secret, continues with May’s Daddy Protector and concludes in September with Twin Surprise.

Thanks for reading!

Vocabulary Brought to You by...

Hi, I'm Tanya Michaels and my first American Trouble in Tennessee will be out this July. I have a long history with Harlequin--not only have I written over a dozen books for them, I've been reading Harlequins since...well, since probably before I should have been *g*

I've loved romance novels since I was young and learned a lot about different careers and different countries, people in different life situations than I've faced (or would want to...particularly when those situations involve suspense plots or getting trapped in blizzards). Reading Harlequin Historicals set during the Regency period led to curiosity that prompted my degree in History with a focus on Great Britain. And because I often read above my grade level, I had a superior vocabulary. Not that I could always pronounce the words in my great vocabulary.

See, the problem with picking words up through context is not having anyone to go over the pronounciation with you (especially when it's an old-fashioned word most people stopped using around 1900).

I have a friend with a similar reading history who told her mom at a young age that she thought it would be quite romantic to be married in a gaze-beau, because as far as she knew that was how you said gazebo. And my mother and sister who work professionally with dogs had quite a laugh at my mangling of Papillon (don't even talk to me about Bichon Frise--come on, if you'd never heard of the breed before, wouldn't you think Bitchin' Fries was perfectly logical?) At least with the Harry Potter movies, they helped me out and made movies...it's how I finally figured out Hermione.

So I thank all the authors over the years who have contributed to my knowledge of words! I'm incredibly grateful that I have a job where I get to use my love of words every single day...without having to say them out loud.

Thanks, Buddy

Buddy, the musical about Buddy Holly, is in Seattle. The other night my husband and I went, along with his cousin and wife. Buddy Holly was a bit before my time, but I’ve always loved his music. The show was fabulous! People of all ages were there, and everyone was rockin’ out to the music, which comes as no surprise. Few can resist the lure of Buddy Holly’s music.

The rhythm and the tune and the lyrics get under your skin and into your soul and before you know it, you’re boppin’ in your seat and maybe singing along. You might even belt out the tunes in the shower. Why is that? Because Holly taps universal themes within us. We are rhythmic creatures: our heartbeat and our breathing and the systems within our bodies all create continual rhythms within us. The themes in Holly’s music, love, loneliness, heartache, are themes we all can relate to because we, too, have experienced these things. Did I mention that this stuff is universal?

A good book is much like that—timeless, with a story that gets under your skin and into your soul. You may not physically dance with a book, but your mind does that dance, whether it be slow, fast, or in-between. You think about the characters and the story even when it’s over, and you may go back and read it again. Because it is on your keeper shelf.

As authors, we’d all like to write books like that. I know I do. Buddy has taught me that the things bubbling in my head and touching my heart are probably not so different from what every woman thinks and dreams about—family, love, happiness. My challenge is to connect with the reader the way Buddy connected with anyone listening to him.

Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net

Guest Post: Lindsey Brookes, Winner of Harlequin's Great American Romance Contest

First, let me say that I’m thrilled to have been asked to guest blog on the American authors’ blog site. I’ve been reading Americans for a very long time – love them! Besides being an avid reader, I’m a writer as well. Not published yet, but hoping to be someday soon.

It’s been a very big contest year for me. One of my manuscripts, OPERATION: DATE ESCAPE was an American Title III finalist. And then last week I learned that my entry – LOVING ELLIE – won Harlequin’s Great American Romance Novel contest.

Note to all: if you have an answering machine, be sure to check it every day. There just might be a call from an editor on it. J Let me explain - we are in the midst of huge house renovations and our answering machine was in the kitchen where our construction workers were dry walling last week. So needless to say I never checked it. I think every unpubbed author dreams of getting a call from an editor. Wouldn’t you know I finally get one and it had to come in the one day my answering machine was covered in drywall dust and not accessible. Fortunately for me, the stars were aligned just right the next day because I was actually home (and not out shopping J ) when Kathleen Scheibling tried to reach me again with the good news. She even asked to see the full! Yay! So as soon as I receive the crit of LOVING ELLIE that I get along with a free one year subscription to Harlequin American, I will make any necessary changes and get it right out to her and pray that this is the one.

LOVING ELLIE is a story about pregnant heroine who is determined to make it on her own after the untimely death of her baby’s father, and an emotionally scarred hero that returns home after several years away to settle his brother’s estate. Only to his surprise, he discovers his brother had not only a fiancée, but a baby on the way as well. Now he has to convince the heroine to let him help her with the ranch until the baby comes, knowing that in doing so he’ll have to face the ghosts of his past.

I hope you’ll all get the chance to read Ellie and Lucas’s story someday. Don’t you just love those cowboys!

Lindsey Brookeswww.lindseybrookes.com

Second Chances

On Saturday, I’ll join several other authors and speak at a program called The Romance of Writing. My topic is writing as a second career.

About ten years ago, after completing two years of night school to earn my master’s degree, I was sure I was on my way to a long career in educational administration. However, just six months after, my husband was asked to move to Cincinnati. Has that ever happened to any of y’all? You’re on one track, just to find out that life has a whole other one in store for you?

Two weeks after we moved, my husband found a meeting announcement in our local paper. Ohio Valley Romance Writers of America was having a meeting at a bookstore near where we lived. That Saturday! He thought I should go.

I’ve always loved romance novels. I always wanted to write a romance, but never thought I could do it. But, well, I wasn’t a teacher anymore and was feeling kind of at loose ends….so I gathered my courage and went.

I can honestly say it was one of the scariest moments of my life. It was also one of the most eye-opening. Truly, I thought I was the only woman who had a dream of writing for Harlequin. Almost fifty women were at the meeting. And though they were from all walks of life, they had one thing in common. Together, they celebrated and supported each other’s dreams--celebrating cheers and tears and giving out information. To me, it was simply amazing.

There was also a booksigning. Lori Foster was there, signing one of her Temptations. I gathered all my courage and stood in line to get one of her books. The smile she gave me was all warmth and full of welcome.

Well, of course I joined RWA, OVRWA, and finally decided to start writing a real book. A romance. During one of those first meetings, I sat next to a gal named Heather and we hit it off and became critique partners. Over the years, two other women joined us, Hilda and Cathy.

Years passed. Now there’s a whole lot of new faces at OVRWA. Lori and I usually sit next to each other at local booksignings, since she’s an F and I’m a G.

And on Saturday, at the library gathering organized by Hilda, two women I now know very well will also be speaking-- Cathy Liggett and Heather Webber. To our surprise, Cathy, Heather, and I are published now, and Hilda’s very close.

So that’s how I began my second career—a surprise transfer, a serendipitous ad in the paper, and the support of some amazing women. Anyone else have a start they’d like to share?

The best laid plans

Today I thought I'd blog about how I finished my most recent Harlequin American and shipped it off before deadline. I've alreay started my next book, and need to have 3 chapters done for my editor's approval (since the book was bought on synopsis) by April first. I'm already half way there. I thought I'd talk a bit about the writing process.

But what you got above is all that's going to happen. One of the reasons I love the American line so much is that realist characters find love in all sort of places. I love that fantasy. I fall in love with every one of my heroes, and wonder where they are on days like today when my daughter wakes up with a cough and a 101.5 degree fever, meaning I call in using my last sick day of the year. From here on out, any day I miss is going to be very, very costly.

I'll take my youngest to the doctor, pray we don't have another strain of flu (she lost a week earlier this year and lived in my classroom's back office for 3 days since I had to work and she couldn't go to school) and while not at the doctor, I'll lose myself in my work in progress. I've got my older child home, too. I take her into the district where I work, and as I had to pick her up early for a doctor appointment for me at 3:30, it's just not worth making the 60 mile, 1.5 hour round trip for her to go a partial day. My youngest is also not up to two car rides.

So, I'm not feeling like a very good parent at this moment for one, while the other I'm waiting on her hand and foot and worried. I'm a single parent--the ex lives several states away so I do 365, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day at all times. Have for years. It's days like these that get ya.

So like the Robert Burns poem says, the best laid plans often go astray. Today a sub is in my room, my student presentations have to be postponed, and like my current American heroine, I'm simply going to roll with it. She's feisty, like me. For today, I'm going to lose myself in creating Rachel. She's a pastry chef, recently transplanted to her home town after finding her fiance doing a few unsavory things with the sous-chef.

Since it's too early to drink wine, I'm following her example and have a pan of milk chocolate brownies cooking in the oven (yes, at 7:34 AM CST). There have to be some perks to parenting!

Michele

The Year of the Boar

My husband and I went to a bang-up Chinese New Year’s party Saturday night. Interesting people of all ages, from all over the country, copious amounts of fine wine, and fabulous food—enough home-made Chinese dishes to feed a ... well, a few dozen piggies. Can you say, oink? (Oh, my poor, stretched tummy.)

Speaking of pigs, this is the year of the boar. Or pig, but frankly, I prefer “boar. “ Pigs bring to mind laziness and filth, though in truth, they are clean, intelligent animals. Who overindulge, but who am I to judge? ☺ But boars... when I think “boar” I think feral, trong, protective. Alpha male, if you will.

But in the context of the Chinese New Year, I am wrong, wrong, wrong! If you were born in the year of the boar (2007, 1995, 1983, 1971, 1959, 1947—you get the idea. It’s a twelve-year cycle) you have the following characteristics (courtesy of www.topmarks.co.uk/ChineseNewYear/?Zodiac=Boar):

Honest, peace-loving and make good friends. Will try not to argue and rarely lose their temper. Love the good things in life and are very willing to share with others. Enjoy gossip and fall in love easily. Can be untidy people at home.

In other words, people born in the Year of the Boar are danged cool people.

If you’re like me and weren’t born in the Year of the Boar, don’t fret. Sometime in the next 12 years, your year will come.

Gung hai, fat choy to everyone.

Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net

Little ripples...

My local school district is supporting a nation-wide drive to raise money for research into an illness that strikes young and old alike.

The drive involves having every homeroom in the school individually gather up and donate whatever loose change they can spare, find, beg, or borrow. (I'm sure the district draws the line at stealing. (smile)) The homeroom making the highest contribution gets a free lunch from a local restaurant.

Not a bad deal, huh, for a few pennies here and there?

News of the drive made me think about the old bottle I've been using as a piggybank for coins left at the end of the week, every week, for almost a year now. And I promptly decided to see just how much I'd actually saved. Grand total: forty-two dollars and eighty-seven cents.

Not a bad haul, considering that money might have trickled through my fingers. Which got me thinking...

Maybe little trickles, tiny little ripples, could make an awfully big difference out there somewhere.

It could be the cash we collect for a good cause, like the local school drive.

Or the pennies we find in the street and drop into a collection jar at a cash register.

The bagsful of clothing we donate instead of letting collect dust in our closets.

The time we spend at a homeless shelter or soup kitchen or literacy program.

The parking space we give up to the next harried shopper we see at the mall.

The empathetic smile we share with the woman in the department store with the wailing toddler wrapped around her leg.

Or the funny face we make that leaves the toddler laughing.

We might never learn what comes of those little ripples we set off. But if they hit the right place at the right time, anything could happen!

Got any ideas for making a big splash?

All my best to you,

Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille

Winter Blues

Happy Friday everyone!


Did you know there's a website called www.ireallyhatethat.com --a place for those who get annoyed by everyday life?

Maybe it's Chicago's frigid winter temps and more snow expected tonight--just in time for the weekend (sigh) that is the cause of my grumpiness lately, but this website really spoke to me. So here are a few of my-- I really hate it whens….

I really hate it when I have to grocery shop and the outside temperature is 9 degrees/13 below with wind chill.

I really hate when I arrive at the checkout register and my bag of Fritos has a tear and the clerk doesn’t offer to send someone to replace the bag and then I say "That's okay, I don't need all the transfat," then I really hate it when I get home and suffer a transfat withdrawl and curse myself for not having demanded that new bag of Fritos.

I really hate it when my favorite pair of panties gets a tear because then I have shop for new ones and that means I probably have to buy a bigger size.

Writing related….

I really hate it when the characters in my current wip begin getting along too early in the story.

I really hate it when the ink cartridge in the printer runs out in the middle of printing off a book.

I really hate it when I have to delete an entire scene because I came up with a better idea.

I really hate it when I keep mixing up the name of my heroes or heroines because I'm working on revisions for one book while at the same time pushing forward in another book.

Ah, that felt good! Thanks for letting me vent. Want to share your..."I really hate it whens?"

Marin Thomas
Nelson in Command (Jan 07)
Enter Marin's Rooster Contest at www.marinthomas.com

What's in a title?

It’s ironic: as authors, we labor to put just the right touch in our titles, to make them grab the reader’s interest and capture the spirit of the books.

Then, more often than not, the editors change them.

Sometimes, it’s frustrating. Other times, we’re wowed by the editor’s wisdom. Mostly, we accept that she knows her business and that she’s got a tough job, balancing the marketing department’s instructions, the reader’s expectations and the need to avoid duplicating titles on other books.

It’s an interesting process, regardless of the final result. My current release, The Doctor’s Little Secret, actually bears my original title. Although it launches three books that feature police officers – in this book, the heroine – I’m known for a recent series (Downhome Doctors) about physicians. Since my latest hero is a pediatrician, I chose to put that element up front.

Plus, readers seem to love stories about “secret” babies. In this case, the hero gets a chance to reclaim the five-year-old daughter he’s always regretted giving up for adoption, so I wanted to include that angle. She’s the “little secret.”

On the other hand, my May release, Daddy Protector, was renamed. It turned out that another author recently used my first title (The Daddy Next Door), so that was the luck of the draw.

Over the course of selling more than 75 novels, I’ve wrestled with this business a lot. One editor had been looking for a book to dub A Warm December, and handed it to me (which was fine). I still would have preferred my first choice, Prince of Rogues, over its replacement, Million-Dollar Mommy, but I yielded to wiser heads. That story of a prince and the woman he hired to bear his child is still one of my favorites.

Rather to my surprise, Harlequin retained my title Daddy Warlock on a story about a man struggling with his inner wizard. Other favorite titles that I originated are The Bride Wore Gym Shoes and Excuse Me? Whose Baby? Among my top picks that editors created are Assignment: Groom! and Diagnosis: Expecting Boss’s Baby.

Funniest story: One book in a special series started out with the Harlequin-created title The Royally Knocked-Up Princess, which I found hilarious. However, the slang expression "knocked up" didn’t mean the same thing in other English-speaking countries, so it got switched to The Improperly Pregnant Princess.

Not nearly as much fun, at least to Americans. But once again, the editors knew best!

I'm Too Pooped to Smooch!!

Ahh . . . Valentine’s Day.

Having almost literally just stepped off a plane after spending a week with ten thousand cheerleaders in Orlando for the UCA National Cheerleading Championship, romance is the last thing on my mind!! Smooches? Um, truthfully, I’d rather sleep!! LOL!!

Some of my fave Valentine’s Day memories are actually with my dad. He’d always come home extra late with gifts for me and Mom that were wrapped in tin foil. When I was little, he’d get me candy bars and piles of fab magazines like Tiger Beat! When I was older, he switched to jewelry. He has a friend who designs jewelry, so Mom and I would always get something awesome. One year, I got a gold mouse ring-- "he’s" adorable, and has rubies for eyes. Another year, Dad gave Mom and I matching Razorback necklace charms. As wonderful as those gifts were, the most memorable, was my freshman year in college.

Dad made a surprise visit to my dorm at the University of Arkansas, with candy and a cute tea mug with a lid to keep my tea warm. That year, I was lonely, and really missing my dad. Then poof!! There he was!! I still use the mug!!

Hubby and I have always celebrated quietly. Like steaks or pizza at a home, followed by a cuddling and a video rental.

Both sons, on the other hand, are all about the sweeping romantic gestures. Right now, I’m supposed to be grabbing a dozen roses for Son #1’s girlfriend. Son #2 was thoughtful enough to have done of all his shopping early!! Hubby greeted me and Daughter at the airport with super pretty hot pink dozens.

Anyone out there have a crazy romantic Valentine’s story to share? If so, I’d love to hear it!!

Happy Smooching!! ;-)

Romancing the Stone

Do you guys remember Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone when she was on a tight deadline? Well, that's me. The cat's walking across my keyboard, the coffee's spilled, my hair would scare Cruella DeVille, and I have on the same ratty jogging suit I wore to the park this morning. In other words - help! - I've fallen into deadline hell and I can't get out.
That's it for today. Wish me luck, I really, really need it.
Ann DeFee

Somewhere Down in Texas - Harlequin American, March 2007

Deadline Dementia

Some writers thrive on deadlines. They deliberately take on more than they can handle, or spend two months redecorating or buying shoes, then freak out about having to finish their book in two weeks.

Some writers love to take it down to the wire. They're still writing those last five pages as they're printing out the manuscript, then rushing down to the 24-hour Fed Ex office to overnight the thing. They get an adrenaline high from all the rush, rush, rush.

Not me. I do not perform well under pressure. I freak out, I freeze up, I panic. Which is why I always give myself plenty of time. I write a certain number of pages every day in a very orderly fashion so that I can easily finish on time, even early, completely relaxed.

Unfortunately, it doesn't always work out that way. My current book is a good example. When I agreed to my deadline, I didn't remember that I'd volunteered to judge the Rita competition. I have six very long books to read in the next month. I've also signed on to do a lot of workshops and book-signings, most of which involve travel. And then there's this cold. I can't write when I feel sick.

Today was the crowning glory. I found a package on my doorstep ... a line-edited manuscript for my September book, ONE STUBBORN TEXAN, which has to be proofread and revised in about a week. Just as I'm recovering from that, I find out my sister and her family are coming to town this weekend.

I’m freaking here. Freezing up. The first tendrils of panic. I am approximately 50 pages behind where I should be ... eeek! Eeek!

But then, I pause and slap myself. Jeez, this is the life I wanted, and I'm complaining? Would I prefer not to have any deadlines? Would I prefer not to have books on the shelves that I need to promote? Sheesh, what a big whiney baby I am.

The book will get done. The book always gets done. Meanwhile, I intend to be grateful for my life (and my family!) whenever I can.

* * *

In other news, I have a new newsletter out and a new contest on my website, www.karalennox.com. If you like to win fun stuff, including books and chocolate, come visit me online!

Valentine's Day is fast approaching...

Valentine’s Day is fast approaching…

At this time of the year I’m always thinking about what to get my husband on this special day. His gift for me has been the same for many years; he brings home flowers, it’s been a variation over the years, and we go out to eat at a nice restaurant--my favorite thing because I don’t have to cook.

It’s his gift that gives me a headache. It has ranged from fishing and hunting magazine subscriptions and fishing lures to wine and sporting event tickets. This year I’m doing something entirely different. He loves fig preserves and his mother, who has two big fig trees, always makes them for him. But she fell and broke her hip in early summer and didn’t make any last year. She froze several bags of figs though. I now have them and tomorrow I’m making fig preserves. I think I’ve lost my mind, but love makes us do crazy things.

I’m going to do this while he’s at work so he won’t know about it until February 14. I’ve never made fig preserves before so I’m hoping for the best. I have some festive jars and lids and his mother’s recipe. What could go wrong? Ah, I may be buying a bottle of wine at the last minute.

Are you doing anything special for your loved one?

Linda Warren
ONCE A COWBOY—Feb 2007

Research Trips

I'm working on my December 2007 release, Texan for the Holidays, and needed to make a research trip to Graham, Texas. That's about two and a half hours from my home near Dallas. I went with my friend and fellow writer, Rebecca Russell, tracing the route of my heroine, Scarlett, who gets lost (now I can really see how!) and ends up in fictional Brody's Crossing. (This will be a new series which begins with Temporarily Texan in July, 2007.) Since I'm planning a series, I created a town based on all the small Texas towns I've visited in the past 30 years, living in Texas. Brody's Crossing is not a county seat, so I gave it a few streets and no town square. However, I wanted the folks downtown to have someplace special to go, so I created a small park next to the building housing the law offices and apartment of hero James Brody. It's the size of a narrow, long lot as you might find in any small downtown area.

The point of this rather long story is that when Rebecca and I went to Graham on our research trip (which also involved antique shopping and the search for the perfect coconut pie, of course!) we found a small park/courtyard on a street around the town square. It's right across from the Young County Courthouse (which I was researching) and, as Rebecca pointed out, right next door to the law offices! I took photos and emailed them to my editor under the caption, "bizarre." Sometimes, reality is really stranger than fiction!

A similar event happened years ago when I was writing for the Kensington Precious Gems line. Back "in the day" before easy Internet research, I relied on the zip code directory online, plus a hard copy of the Texas map to make sure my fictional town of Scottsville didn't really exist in East Texas. I found no listings for the name, so wrote two books set there. To my shock, when driving back from a writer's conference in Shreveport, Louisiana (with Kara Lennox, Judy Christenberry and another writer) we saw a sign in East Texas for Scottsville! Apparently there was an old town which is now just a community center, gas station, and cemetary. They don't have their own zip code. They aren't on most maps. Again, bizarre but true! Perhaps I had seen the sign when driving there before, but honestly, I don't remember.

So, if you find places, people or events in some books that seem familiar or bizarre, please know that we try to make sure we're really writing fiction. Best wishes and happy reading until next time.

There's something about going home.

Last week my sister and I went back to our hometown to take care of family business. She hadn't been there in quite a while, and every place we went she commented on how small things seemed. When you were a kid your grandmother's kitchen looked like the Taj Mahal, although in reality it was probably your normal run-of-the mill room. But what do you expect when you're only four feet tall. I haven't been a kid in a long, long time so I'm not sure why everything seemed a bit Lilliputian.

And that brings me to the delightful part of our trip. I was able to connect with several people I hadn't seen since high school. Catching up on the gossip was a ton of fun, and more than once my reaction was a resounding "You've got to be kidding!"

Since I write about small towns, it was great opportunity to stock up on stories about colorful characters. And believe me, small southern towns are a treasure trove of eccentric folks.

So, if you're thinking about going home - just remember that some things will feel so right, and others will feel like a tight pair of jeans - a wee bit tight and a tad uncomfortable.

Have a wonderful day.
Ann DeFee

Accidents Happen

They say that when you cut your finger, your life is about to change. Well...

Last week we had guests over for dinner. I love to cook and was making a Greek dinner and a delicious hors d’oeuvre, a roasted eggplant spread (which is posted as my recipe of the month at www.annroth.net). I bought freshly baked bread for the spread. It needed slicing, so I set to work with a sharp bread knife. Everything was fine until the last slice. It was too thick. So I sliced in half—and sliced my finger, too. Nasty cut with lots of bleeding. My husband helped me bandage it and we went on with the dinner party. The next morning I changed the bandaid. Or rather my husband did for me—I’m way too squeamish. The cut looked terrible. “Baby, you’re gonna lose it,” my husband said. He’s never called me “baby” before and he meant my finger tip, so I knew this was serious. He took me straight to the emergency room. It was too late for stitches—you have to get in there pretty fast for those—so they gave me a butterfly bandage and a tetanus shot, since I couldn’t remember when I’d last had one. Now I have a huge gauze bandage on my finger. Good for garnering loads of attention, terrible for typing!

Lessons learned: practice safety when using a knife—make sure there are no fingers in the way. Bad cuts require immediate attention—careful cleaning and possibly stitches.

About those changes... so far, the only change is in my typing, which is better than it was ( have graduated to smaller bandages), but still slow and full of mistakes. Maybe the message is, slow down and take care. I’ll try, really I will.

"I met him at the candy store...."

Well, actually I didn't, but it seems like a good lead, if you're into retro and recognize the sentence. If you're not and you don't, I'll clue you in: it's a line from "Leader of the Pack," a real tearjerker and one of the saddest love songs I've ever heard. But we won't go there.

This is February, the month of valentines and chocolate, roses and romance--and, not to mention, my birthday. (smile) Which means I'm all about happy love today.

I write romance, so, naturally, I enjoyed the previous blog entry with the A-lists of locations for marriage proposals. Now I'd like to back up a step, to where it all began, and find the hot spots for meeting the man or woman of your dreams.
I'll go first.

New York City. Times Square. New Year's Eve. The ball is dropping and the crowd is caught up in a feverish chant. The man next to me turns and wraps his arms around me....

No—wait!

Paris. In springtime. The air is perfumed with flowers. Lovers stroll arm in arm as the sun sets in a violet haze. I'm all alone until the man approaching stops before me....

No. Try again.

This time, the truth:

A small town. September. The bowling alley. My turn. When my first attempt bounces into the gutter, the man at the next lane over laughs. I pin him with my steely-eyed gaze, then fire the next ball straight down the alley. Right into the pocket. Strike!

You gotta love a guy who brings out the best in you.

It took a while for us to get together, but—except for some literary embellishment (hey, I'm a writer!)—that's how I met my significant other AKA my husband and hero.

How did you meet yours?


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

Barbara White Daille

Will You Marry Me?

Happy February--the Love Month!!

Valentine's Day is fast approaching and many women across the world will be asked for their hand in marriage on Feb 14th--the most romantic day of the year for some couples. I've compiled a list "Perfect Marriage Proposal Locations/Scenarios" below.

Top Ten Marriage Proposal Places www.about.com

1) In a garden
2) In a winery
3) On a mountaintop
4) On a beach
5) At a zoo
6) In the back of a limo
7) At a world famous landmark
8) In a revolving restaurant
9) Atop the Empire State Building
10) Atop the Eiffel Tower


Top Ten Marriage Proposal Places www.askmen.com

1) On top of a mountain after a day of rock climbing
2) Make a personal video
3) In mid-air (flight attendant does the asking for the guy)
4) Billboard
5) Movie Theater-preview across the big screen
6) Niagara Falls
7) Vegas
8) On Valentine's Day
9) During lovemaking
10) Cop pulls your girl over and gives her a ticket (written proposal)
11) On her birthday
12) E-mail
13) Radio dedication
14) At a baseball game

And my personal favorite from http://www.diamondhelpers.com/

Arrange to meet her in a beautiful park near some riding stables. Rent a knight's armor from a costume shop or theatrical company and pick it up on the way. Rent a horse at the stables, don the armor, ride up to meet her and offer to be her prince. Present the ring with princely flair on bended knee. You could have someone in the bushes nearby ready to play Holst's "Jupiter" as she starts to see you in the distance.

Join the fun, tell us your idea of the perfect marriage proposal and/or the real one you received from Mr. Right!

Marin Thomas
Nelson in Command (Jan 07)
http://www.marinthomas.com/

Transitions, and why we write

People sometimes ask series romance authors why we write these “little” books instead of tackling big important themes.

Here’s why.

A little over a week ago, I received word that a good friend and former critique partner, Barbara Seranella, had died following a long struggle with liver disease. In case you haven’t read her colorful Munch Mancini mysteries, Barbara was a former wild child (motorcycle gangs and drugs) who got clean, became an auto mechanic, and then wrote a series with a main character based on herself.

I can still hear her drily humorous voice reading aloud passages from her books at our critique meetings. And see her expressive face at her 50th birthday party. Although everyone knew that might be her last birthday, we hoped there’d be more. Sadly, there weren’t.

A few days ago, my family rallied to help my mother-in-law following surgery (for a non-life-threatening condition, fortunately). This woman who’s always been there for others needed others to be there for her. I’m delighted to say she’s home and doing very well.

In the process of talking to family members, I learned that my niece is expecting a baby in August. This will be the first, and very much wanted, child of that generation in the family.

Talk about life-changing events, all rolled into such a short time! Death, transitions, and the miraculous cycle of life.

Why do we write these “little” books? Because love, family and commitment are truly the greatest story of all. That’s what I’ve tried to capture in my February release, The Doctor’s Little Secret. That’s what we all strive for every time we write.

Thanks for taking the journey with us!

Letters and other end of the month miscellaneous stuff

Okay, today's my day and I'm pretty speechless. You know the time when you've got 50 million things to do and no time to do any of them? January is like that. We have to process taxes, resolutions, new semesters, etc. etc.

Life is crazy. Superbowl's next weekend, which means I'll see friends from college that I now only see twice a year. I look forward to hanging out with them and catching up.

As I bought a pick me up card for a friend last night, I realized my life has moved online. I loved Kara's comments on letters below because I, too, have had those types of letters and emails. Sometimes they are hard to deal with. But the ones I love best are the ones from my former students. They find me from blogs, books, and websites and drop a line to say hello. They've sent baby pictures. It's fun to hear that they are doing so well.

So happy Tuesday and I'll keep this short and sweet.

Michele

You've Got Mail

And if you're an author, you might not want to read it!

I enjoy hearing from readers, truly I do. And the vast majority of correspondence I get is positive. When a reader takes time out of her busy life to let me know that my book made her laugh or cry or remember what it's like to fall in love, it makes my day. Then there are those other letters ...

There's a woman who writes to not just me, but lots of romance authors, asking if we'd like to have our mouths washed out with soap, or would we like to come wash her mouth out with soap? She's written me at least half a dozen letters, and each one, no matter how it begins, descends into a discussion of profanity and mouth-washing. Then there are the readers we call the Minutia Militia*, who lie in wait for you to make a mistake in your research, then jump out of the bushes to point out your errors with great glee.

I get lots of e-mails from people who clearly have never read any of my books ("Dear Author:") but still want me to send them free stuff. And finally, there is the man who sent me his book, in installments ... from prison. He expected me to publish it for him, and he checked on me every so often to see how the publishing was coming along. When a letter came indicating he would be out of prison soon and would be along in person to check on things, I contacted the prison. They assured me he would not be getting out any time soon.

I'm thinking about fan mail today because I got a great one this morning. A female volunteer firefighter wrote to tell me she'd read the first book in my Firehouse 59 series and enjoyed it, partly because I'd used the correct terms and she could identify with my female firefighter. Since I agonized over researching the details, her letter was music to my ears!

So once in a while, take a moment to let an author know if you like her book. It's so easy now--almost every author has a website with contact information. A couple of minutes of your time could really make an author smile.

*I don't know who coined "Minutia Militia," but I heard it from Sandy Blair.

I love to shop

I’ve been buried in revisions and deadlines for what seems forever. Yesterday, after working four hours straight, I hit the wall and took a break. Headed for Pacific Place, an upscale mall in downtown Seattle. There I met Ann Defee, who also blogs here, for lunch and a few hours of chitchat (all right, a little gossip, too!), laughter and shopping. Late January is a great time to shop for clothes, because the sales are amazing. Not only that, the day was perfect—sunny and a balmy 57 degrees.

Hanging out with a writer friend always relaxes me. Writers understand when you’re so burned out from writing, you can’t think of the right word for something. Word exhaustion, a clever writer aptly named it. Non-writing friends think you’re… well, getting old. But writer friends think, she used up all her words writing today.

So when I told Ann, “I haven’t found a new whatchamacallit yet—that thing you put on your bed?” She supplied “bedspread” and we both laughed about it.

Several hours later I came home with a smile on my face, several cool new tops and pants (all on sale!), and a head full of words. Yep, the word exhaustion was gone. So thanks, Ann!

Today I’m refreshed and ready to plunge back into work.

Let's Talk Stories

Harlequin American Romance Authors

I'm not sure this will work, but I thought today was my blog day. Found out it was yesterday---sorry. I'll pop in today anyway. I have a writer friend who asked an interesting question of me---"why aren't publishers buying stories about families any more?"
I thought they were. Hope they are as I love to write family type stories. Now I wonder if they aren't buying as many new authors with family stories. There are a lot of paranormal, other world stories being bought right now. Even in the Harlequin lines I'm wondering if new books being bought don't focus on family as much as on straight hero/heroine romances. No added secondary characters. I read a lot. It seems to me there are families in the books. But I remind myself those were bought a year ago. So what say all of you who have sold recently? Families, no families, and what is the focus?
Roz D. Fox

Simply A Surprise

I received some great news last week. One of my writing friends emailed a congratulations. She saw on a list that Simple Gifts was nominated by Romantic Times Magazine as one of their favorite Harlequin Americans of 2006. Saying this was a surprise was pretty much an understatement. And because I was so surprised, I quickly wrote my friend back and told her that I thought she had made a mistake. Maybe she'd mistakenly pressed SEND to the wrong girl?

Well, Cathy wrote me back with a big : ) and said nope, she had it right...and listed all five Harlequin American Authors who were nominated. I called in my husband and we stared at the list on the screen together: Laura Marie Altom. Pamela Browning. Shelley Galloway. Debra Salonen, Marin Thomas. Yep, there I was, neatly stuck in the middle of such a great group of authors. So amazing!

Don't you love surprises like that? Unexpected ones which take you so off-guard that you can honestly say you're shocked? I don't think they happen too often in life...so each one is very sweet, to say the least.

Well, after I made my two teenagers come look at the screen, too, (Um, good job, Mom) I did the only thing I could do...I called my critique partner, Heather Webber. Luckily, she was home, and luckily, she finally made it real..."Yay!" she called out, then said she felt like crying. So, that's what we did. I stood in my kitchen, talked to Heather, and cried with my writing buddy, because she knew how much Simple Gifts had meant to me, and how much writing for Harlequin means to me. I think I mainly got all teary because it's nice to have girlfriends who can give you an really nice suprise on a Sunday evening, and to have girlfriends who will pick up the phone and be thrilled for you...just because.

So, congratulations to Laura and Pamela and Debra and Marin. And here's to good, very sweet, totally unexpected surprises. I hope everyone gets a sweet surprise one day very soon.

Shelley

Harlequin American Romance Authors

Harlequin American Romance Authors

Hello from sunny Texas! As I walked into my kitchen this morning, I knew something was different. Gone was the constant rain, drizzle, mist, sleet, snow and ice. I suddenly realized that I was not living in Seattle, but indeed, resided in suburban Dallas! What a nice surprise after all the bad weather. My heart goes out to those in the midwest who are still iced in, without power or otherwise stranded in the ice.

I'm working on a Christmas book - the first of my career. TEXAN FOR THE HOLIDAYS is the second book of my new Brody's Crossing series and will be released in December 2007. It's been a lot of fun writing a Christmas book over the actual holidays, but now the ceramics, candles, photos, lights, greenery and ornaments are going back into storage (eventually, I tell my husband!) and still my characters are in the joy of the season.

Prolonging Christmas through my characters is giving me a chance to relax a bit after the "real" holiday is over. You see, our December was quite hectic. Our daughter (my only child) was married on December 30 in Las Vegas, and as soon as we returned, I hosted a reception at our house for them. The trip to Las Vegas was delayed for almost an entire day due to storms at the airport, so we drove to Austin and flew out of there. There were multiple false fire alarms at the hotel, a missing wedding gown, and much illness in our wedding party. Overall, it's amazing that one of us didn't say, "Have you thought about going downtown to the JP?" But we didn't, and the wedding was beautiful.

A couple of friends (not my writing friends, because they know better) said that I should use all the mishaps in a book. I told them that no one would believe everything that happened to us if it were in a book. Truly, things like this only happen in real life - well, except maybe for Jennifer Crusie books, because she can make me believe almost anything could happen. Have you ever read what happened to the dead body in WELCOME TO TEMPTATION? Anyway, I digress. What I wanted to convey is that I have to make up almost all the silly things that happen in my books. One exception is the incident in TEMPORARILY TEXAN, my July 2007 release when the hero, Troy, tries to teach his Yankee vegetarian houseguest how to country-western dance. Yes, I actually sent a shoe flying across the dance floor when I tried the Cotton-Eyed Joe. Needless to say, I'm a writer, not a dancer!

Thanks for taking time to read the Harlequin American author's blog. If you'd like more information on my upcoming releases, please check my website.