A trip to Toronto

Hi,
Two weeks ago Geri Krotow (a fellow Everlasting Love author) and I made a pilgrimage to the Harlequin headquarters in Toronto. It was a fabulous experience. We were treated to a tour of the entire facility, met with all the department heads, had lunch with the editorial staff and encountered so many nice people. I was blown away by the amount of work it takes for our books to progress from an idea to a finished product. So when you read a Harlequin book, know that it has been checked and re-checked by a cast of thousands. And a big thank-you to all those folks.

Ann

Ann DeFee
Goin' Down to Georgia - Harlequin American Romance, March 2008

Confession Time

Writers are always reading and evaluating—at least I am. Whether I like it or not, the quality of what I read often affects my own writing, regardless of the genre. As I read an especially good book I become so engrossed in the story that I forget about everything except the characters and what happens. I think about them when I must close the book and long after I finish it. A good novel inspires me to stretch my own writing skills and improve, and with every book I get better at it. Always a good thing!

On the other hand, on those occasions when the book is really bad, I find myself thinking, She could’ve said that better. Or... There isn’t much plot here. Or... There’s a hole there. Or... No heroine in her right mind would ever do that! You get the gist. I am so busy editing in my head that I never do get into the story. Sometimes I worry that in reading a bad book, my own writing will suffer. Of course, I soon toss the offending novel aside. Life is too short to waste reading a book you don’t even like. ☺

What can I say except, I am easily influenced by what I read. That’s it, my confession. (If you were expecting something lurid or gossipy, well, this is all you’re getting! ☺)

What about you? If you write, are you similarly affected? Or, would you rather confess to something else? Lurid or gossipy is fine. ☺ I’ll never tell.

Wishing everyone great reads, and until later,

Ann
www.annroth.net
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007

It’s a Dog’s Life

From some of my previous posts on this blog, you’ve probably figured out that I’m an animal lover, and a big supporter of animal rescue endeavors. So when I started to write With This Ring, my December Harlequin American Romance, it came as no surprise to me that the hero has a dog that he adopted from the SPCA. Max is an Old English Sheepdog, and he quickly became one of my favorite secondary characters in the book.

To be honest, I’d never actually met an Old English Sheepdog, but a little Internet research revealed an OES rescue facility in a town that’s about an hour’s drive from where I live. So I contacted them, and they invited me to come for a visit.

Ann Rambaud and Ray Salmon, the proprietors of Sheepie Hollow, are two of the most wonderful and amazing people you could hope to meet. They currently have one Old English Sheepdog and three Bearded Collies. Before I met the dogs I didn’t know the difference between an OES and a beardie—and there are differences—but they have a lot in common, too. Both breeds are very intelligent, extremely sociable, and require a lot of grooming!

Currently, three of Ann and Ray’s four dogs have been rescued. They have the perfect home and a lifestyle that’s laid back enough to allow four dogs to have the run of the house.

Summer is their only non-rescue dog. She’s a gorgeous championship-quality Bearded Collie, and Ann and Ray have had her since she was a puppy.

Penny, a twelve-year-old OES, has been with them for about nine years. Before that she’d been through four homes, and one previous owner even used a shock collar on her. After just a few minutes in Penny’s company, I was completely enchanted. She’s funny and affectionate, and it’s impossible to understand how anyone found it necessary to use extreme behavioral controls on such a beautiful girl.

Blue is a Bearded Collie who’d been found running the streets. He had only been at Sheepie Hollow for a few weeks when I met him, and he was already part of the family. Ann and Ray’s big fenced yard allows Blue plenty of room to run, but we’re happy to report his wild, wandering ways are a thing of the past.

Of all the dogs, Molly’s story touched me the most. Molly is an amputee—her left hind leg is missing. It’s well disguised by her long fur and tail, though, and because she has no problem keeping up with the other dogs, I didn’t even notice it right away. When I finally asked if she had a bit of a limp, Ann and Ray told me her story.

In 2003 she escaped from her previous owner on Halloween night and was found eleven days later on the side of a road. She had multiple injuries, the worst of which was a shattered hind leg. Her owner was contacted but refused to pay for her veterinary care, which included the amputation of that left hind leg. The vet performed all the necessary treatment anyway and within a couple of weeks, Molly was adopted by Ann and Ray.

To me, Molly seemed to have the sweetest disposition of the four dogs, and she’s the most patient, waiting her turn for pat on the head instead of insisting on it! And to say that Molly now has a full life would be a complete understatement. She has a wonderful, loving home, two devoted humans, and three lively companions.

You can follow the early weeks of Molly’s rehabilitation here, but I also want to share a couple of photos in this post.

Ann and Ray’s wonderful home is well equipped for large, energetic dogs. Within four months of being injured, Molly was leading an active life.

Ann and Ray provide lots of extracurricular adventures to keep their dogs mentally and physically stimulated.

I especially love the next two pictures and when I first saw them, I laughed until I had tears in my eyes! Molly’s herding instinct is not hampered by that missing leg . . .

. . . and I can actually imagine sound effects to go with this one. Engines revving, tires squealing, and they’re off. Go Molly!

And kudos to Ann and Ray for being such wonderful people.

And now I hope you’re as anxious to meet Max, the Old English Sheepdog in With This Ring, as I am to introduce him to you. Starting November 29 for six consecutive Thursdays, he’ll be guest blogging on my blog, The Writer Side of Life. Max and I will also have some fun prizes to give away, so we hope you’ll visit often!

Lee
http://www.leemckenzie.com
http://thewritersideoflife.blogspot.com/

Happy Thanksgiving!

All of the authors who write for Harlequin American Romance would like to wish you and yours a Happy Thanksgiving.

We are thankful you are here reading and blogging with us and enjoying our books. May your home and hearth be warm and filled with fun and family today, or if you are enjoying the day alone, know we are thinking of you and hope you enjoy peace and solace and have the time to curl up with a good book.

And may you shop well if you will be out on Black Friday enjoying the sales tomorrow.

My November Release

All I Want for Christmas, my November Harlequin American, has the cutest cover ever! (See the sidebar, or visit www.annroth.net.) This is the first story that takes place on Halo Island, a fictitious island in the San Juans of the Pacific Northwest. The island takes its name from the halo-shaped fog that sometimes hovers over the sound.

Ryan Chase, the hero, is raising his young daughter, Maggie, alone. Thanks to a great deal of emotional turmoil, little Maggie suffers from nightly bad dreams. In an effort to help her, Ryan has given up his successful business in Los Angeles and moved to the island where life isn’t so hectic and he can focus on her.

Tina Morrell was raised on the island but has moved to Seattle. Her job means everything to her, and she is climbing the corporate ladder. She comes home to take care of the woman who raised her while she recuperates from hip surgery. This woman just happens to live across the street from Ryan.

I don’t want to give away the story, so that’s all I’m saying. ☺ Except to wish one and all a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Tomorrow I’ll be guest blogging at http://www.loveisanexplodingcigar.com/ with a Thanksgiving message for everyone. Please stop by!

Until later,

Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007

The Beginning of Thanks

It's been a rather wild month for our family. My second oldest daughter called on the Sunday morning before Halloween to tell us their house had burned. Since then, it's been nothing but adjustments for all and especially for the five of them. But in all of the craziness, we found "thankful" things. No one was hurt. Only one room was destroyed, although the smoke and water damage to the house was extensive. Their insurance company has been wonderful throughout, and they have a lovely home to live in until theirs is restored. The school system has offered help, which included new clothing for the Pre-Ker from a thoughtful organization. This Thanksgiving has us giving thanks for many things.

Then I started thinking. We give thanks for so many major things at this time of year. Shouldn't we be thankful for all things, big or small, throughout the year? Shouldn't we get up in the morning, thankful that we can, then go on to think of all the small things we are blessed with each moment? A place to live, food to eat, people to love can begin our list, but for each of us, there are so many more.

A couple of months ago, I discovered an e-course designed to find the positives in life, instead of dwelling on the negatives. One of the basic tasks to be done is to keep a Gratitude Journal. Each morning before getting up and each night before going to sleep, the particpant is to write three things he/she is grateful for. I admit that sometimes this means digging deep inside, because it means six NEW things each day, but it can be done. It's wonderful to be aware of the small glories in life, the ones we so often ignore, while dealing with the big bad ickies.

So in honor of our American Thanksgiving this coming Thursday, I'm suggesting that each of us, beginning tomorrow, start the day thinking of just one small thing we're thankful for and ending the day with another. If nothing else, it will bring a smile to our faces and a small bit of joy into our hearts each day, not only on one day a year, but throughout.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

TV and Reality

I confess that lately I'm having trouble enjoying TV shows. I find myself constantly picking them apart. Anyone watch Friday Night Lights?

I lived in Texas for several years and in one town where football was everything--except it wasn't as rural as Dillon, Texas. I don’t want to nit-pick the show; especially if some of you have TIVO'd the program to watch later. But every episode I end up muttering to my husband "Like a kid would get away with that in real life." Or "Yeah, right, school counselors always walk around flashing their cleavage." And yes I do understand that the cleavage shots are strictly to entertain male viewers…if anyone has any doubts just turn on the Ghost Whisper when your husband or teenage son is in the room and watch him suddenly find the storyline fascinating. My husband responds to my mutterings with …"Hey, its television" Or "It's entertainment, it doesn’t have to be real or make sense."

Maybe writing romance books is responsible for ruining my enjoyment of TV. Today's romance readers demand stories rooted in reality--they want to believe that what happens to the hero or heroine could happen to someone in real life and I strive for that in my books. So…does anyone else feel this way about TV shows or am I just plain weird?

Happy Reading and TV viewing!

Marin
*Hearts of Appalachia*
For The Children (Oct 07)
In A Soldier's Arms (Feb 08)
A Coal Miner's Wife (Aug 08)
http://www.marinthomas.com/

Fifteen minutes of fame

In 1968, artist Andy Warhold said, "In the future, everyone will be world famous for 15 minutes." In those pre-Internet days, that sounded like an outlandish claim.

Now, we see it happening all the time. In fact, it just happened to the son of a good friend of my family’s, in a sequence of events worthy of a Harlequin American romance

New York resident Patrick Moberg – whose parents live across the street from my parents in Nashville, Tennessee – saw a cute girl on the subway. Just as he worked up the nerve to introduce himself, she exited, and a knot of people prevented him from following.

So he did what any savvy 21-year-old Web site designer would do. He posted a site, nygirlofmydreams.com, featuring sketches of himself and the cutie, along with a description of her and some sweet, humorous remarks begging readers to help him find her.

Instead, the media found him.

Next thing he knew, he was being featured on ABC-TV (read all about it at http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/story?id=3828525&page=1) and his parents were fielding calls from reporters around the globe. It wasn’t just New Yorkers who got a chuckle, it was also people as far away as Australia which, as it turned out, is where the young lady hails from.

Did they meet? Yes. And clicked, according to Patrick. The girl of his dreams is a 22-year-old magazine intern named Camille Hayton, and they’ve appeared together on “Good Morning America.” They also went out to dinner, on ABC’s dime.

All very well. Here’s the part of the story that should interest us authors, though.

The same week that Patrick was rocketing to fame, his sister, Julia Moberg, saw her first novel published. Entitled Skies Over Sweetwater, it’s the story of an 18-year-old girl who trains as an Air Force pilot during World War II. Suitable for all ages, it’s aimed at celebrating the Women Air Force Service Pilots and encouraging young women to take an interest in aviation.

Needless to say, Julia did not get featured on “Good Morning America.” ABC did not pay for her to eat a fancy dinner (let alone travel there by limousine), nor were her parents swamped with calls from abroad about her new book.

She’s just an author, like the rest of us. Hard-working and still dreaming of our fifteen minutes of fame.
Well, here’s a tip of the hat – and a bit of blog attention -- to Julia Moberg. Good luck with your book, and keep on flyin’!

Deja Vu--Or did I really do that already?

First, happy Veteran's Day. Yes, technically it was yesterday, but today was the day off/holiday. Most schools in my area were in session today and hosting ceremonies and remembrances.

I'm posting this a bit late because I swore I'd written a blog and emailed it to myself to post from work. I got to work and looked in my inbox. No blog. I went home, checked my outbox. No blog. Maybe I didn't write it.

I'm currently mailing out books. I swore I sent one out to Nick Kenig, but the more I think about it, maybe not. I'm sending another just in case. I think I'd written the card so many times in my mind that I thought I'd done it--but in reality, I hadn't. I did delete the email with his address, but perhaps that was a mistake too.

Do you get like that sometimes? That you swore you've done something, only to realize you really haven't?

For example, I swore I put the name Kathleen Kennedy in my book Nine Months' Notice (on final edits). I've looked all through, but can't find it. I'm going to have a friend look. It would simply be a one line reference. If you find it, let me know what page.

Perhaps my mind is slipping. Maybe it's simply overload, but I'm learning that, too, is normal. I guess I've been so wrapped up in reading reviews, sending out books, working on manuscripts that I can't remember what I've done and what I haven't. The brain really does toss out a lot of information if you don't store it properly. Right now I'm dumping everything that's not essential to breathing.

I just returned from a jounalism teacher convention in Philadelphia, so that's taken a bit out of my routine. While I was gone, some switch on my refrigerator fried, so I lost everything in the appliance. I used yesterday to clean the entire inside so it's like new. The repair is done--$121 dollars later.

Cheaper than a new fridge. I'm also sensing the "what if" premise for another book. I'm being a glass full person here. Maybe stress causes the mind to forget.

So speaking of, my website finally got updated and so did my blog. I don't think I've said that lately, so feel free to check them out at www.micheledunaway.com and www.micheledunaway.blogspot.com

Nothing fancy, but there are some new pics and such.

Michele

An Author's Reputation

I live in a small town, and most of the people here know I'm an author. The majority of them have probably never read my books, but they know I'm an author because of things I do. In other words, I have a reputation for acting like an author.

Example 1: I have a chiropractor's appointment once a month. It's the only way to keep control of the knots that form in my shoulders from sitting hunched in front of the computer. The chiropractor's office is a mere five minutes from my house. Good thing, because I am almost always late for my appointments. Sometimes as much as 45 minutes late. Same scenario every month -- I rush into the office, apologizing profusely. The doc and his receptionist laugh. "We know you," Doc says. "You were busy writing and totally lost track of time." Well yes, that's exactly what happened.

This has happened enough that my hairdresser now calls me when it's time to leave to show up at her shop to have my hair done.

I give all these people free books, as an apology for my lateness, and so they'll see what I've been creating during this time.

Example 2: I visit my local post office two and three times a week with packages to be weighed -- manuscripts I'm mailing, copies of books and galleys to reviewers, or donations or giveaway books. "You come in here more than almost anybody," the woman behind the counter tells me. "It's all those books and manuscripts," the postmistress says knowingly.

Example 3: Both UPS and DHL make regular stops at my house with boxes of books, galleys and other communications from my publisher. The boxes of books are conveniently stamped on the outside with the title and author. "So you write these, huh?" the UPS man asked one day. "You write for Harlequin?" DHL asked after delivering the umpteenth package from Toronto. "Wow, I never knew a real writer before." You may touch the hem of my sweatshirt, sir.

Example 4: At a local function I am talking with a new neighbor. Another person joins us. "Cindi's a writer, you know," she says. Understanding dawns on the neighbor's face. "I was wondering what you did that allowed you to hang around the house all day."

Ah yes, the glamorous life of a writer. Hanging around the house all day (in between trips to the post office) waiting for DHL and UPS to show up, always late for appointments. Oh, and I somehow find time to write books.

That time of the year...

The dreaded time change happened this weekend in Texas and other states. On Sunday I was rested, but for the rest of this week my internal clock hasn’t been on board. I’m awake before its time to get up and about ten o’clock at night, when I should be writing, my internal clock starts saying “bed time”. It’ll take about a week for my internal clock to reset. I really wish they would leave the time alone. Believe me, I don’t need anything else to confuse or irritate me.

How does everyone else feel about this? Do you look forward to DST? Or are you grumpy like me at having my internal clock reset by people I don’t even know? I’m beginning to really like Arizona.

Since I won’t be posting again until December, I want to wish everyone a HAPPY THANKSGIVING. Now that’s my favorite time of the year – a special day to enjoy family and friends and to give thanks for all the blessings in my life. By then I might even be more congenial about DST.

Wishing you all the best,
Linda Warren
Adopted Son – Sep 2007 Super Romance
Texas Bluff – Feb 2008 Super Romance (Book#5 Texas Hold ‘Em Series)

Living with a 2 year old

Hi guys,
I'm in the middle of a marathon trip to the east coast, and the first leg of this adventure is a stop at my daughter's house in Pittsburgh. That's where the two-year old comes in. My Pburg babies are 6 and 2. So, believe me, I'm getting the full treatment of My Pretty Pony, Carz, dinosaurs, Webkinz and Only Hearts Club dolls. There's nothing like playing a couple of dozen rounds of Candy Land to get your blood flowing.

From here I go to my son's house in the D.C. area (two more grandbabies). Then on to Annapolis where I'm doing a book signing with a couple of my Harlequin Everlasting Love friends - Geri Krotow and Linda Cardillo. If you're in the Annapolis area on Sunday, November 11, please stop by and visit with us at Hard Beans and Books (it's right downtown). We'd love the company.

From there Geri and I go to her hometown of Buffalo for another signing. I'm thinking I didn't bring enough warm clothes. And then on to Toronto to do a tour of the Harlequin offices.
After that I hopscotch back home through Baltimore. My tongue's hanging just thinking about it.

So wish me luck. I'll check in later - after I get home, wash my clothes and hibernate for a couple of days.

Ann

A Perfect Tree - One Magic Christmas - Harlequin American Christmas Anthology - available mid-November
Goin' Down to Georgia - Harlequin American Romance - March 2008

Creative outlets

We all need creative outlets. Mine are fiction writing and cooking. Just as I enjoy creating characters and telling their stories, I also love turning raw ingredients into savory dishes. Because cooking is fun for me, my food usually tastes good. (Yes, I love my own cooking.) If I didn’t enjoy the task, I’m certain I’d produce blah results. The same holds true of writing. If a writer doesn’t like what she’s writing, it shows!

Back to cooking. I especially like to bake. Once a week (and only once a week, except for holidays and special occasions—don’t want to get fat …☺) I bake from-scratch cookies or bread or cake or pie. Or several of each. That’s why God invented freezers. ☺

Now you know my creative outlets. What are yours, and do you have more than one? Please share.

Before I sign off, here are several announcements:
November 7 I’ll be guest blogging at Fresh Fiction (http://freshfiction.com/blog). Please stop by and post a comment.

November 9 I’ll be doing an internet radio interview from 11:30-12:00 est. Find the show at http://blogtalkradio.com/MelissaAlvarez. If you would like to call in, the listener call in number is 347-215-8473.

November 15 I’ll be the guest at Noveltalk. From 9-10 pm est. To join the chat (and maybe win a door prize) , go to http://www.noveltalk.com/chat/default.asp.


Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007

Who's got the time?

Everyone has the same twenty-four hours in a day, right?

Then why do I always feel as though I've gotten shortchanged?

Okay, there is that single day of the year when many areas of the country "Spring Ahead," move their clocks forward, and lose an hour. But after a lifetime living in an area that changes its clocks, I've relocated to a state that doesn't, so I don't even have that excuse!

(Worse luck, I don't "Fall Back," either, which means that last night I didn't gain an hour I definitely could have used.)

Still, my days seem as though they're getting shorter and shorter, my To Do lists absolutely are getting longer and longer, and I'm trying to find ways to lower my stress level by getting more done in less time.

One friend suggested I try using a timer, setting it for a specific number of minutes, jumping into whatever project or job is next on the list, and working flat-out and focused on only that one task until the buzzer goes off.

Have you had any luck with that technique?

Have you got any other timesaving, work-producing, To-Do-list-managing tips in your toolbox?

If you have, then you've probably got lots of time to share them. (grin) So, please do!


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com

Twilight Zone Time

So, I should probably start by admitting that I collect Christmas houses. I’ve bought one every year I’ve been married. (18) And, okay, I’ll admit it…sometimes I’ve bought more than one. Choosing the right house is a mini-big-deal for me. I really look forward to it. I wander around the store, look at past catalogs, pick up one, change my mind. You get the idea.

Yesterday was my day to get a house. Because it takes so long, I put my houses out right after Halloween. Anyway, there I was, happily celebrating an hour of house-hunting, relaxed. Sipping a latte. And…my cell phone rang. It was my daughter. She was at cheer practice. And she had questions.

I’m not one of those people who likes to talk on the phone in public places. So, my answers were clipped. Yes, Yes. Okay. Bye. Five minutes later, the phone rings again. Another question. Ten minutes after that…guess what, the coach let them leave early, if they wanted to. So, could I come pick her up? Now?

These are relatively normal things. After all, she’s 14. She’s a nice girl. She’s used to me being at her beck and call. But I wasn’t happy about it. And, well, I happened to be holding my new house…the North Pole Reindeer Spa. So, what did I do? I knew my husband was working from the house yesterday afternoon…so I told her she could either wait until I got back her way, or call her dad.

This little scenario makes me remember life without cell phones. I was on a drill team all through high school. What did I do when practice got out early? I waited. Now that I’m older and my high school years have that pretty sheen of nostalgia all over them, I recall hanging out with my girlfriends, thankful for thirty minutes or an hour of nothing to do. There was a drug store near our school. We’d pool money and buy ice cream, and sit on the sidewalks near the parking lot and talk. Flirt with all the boys who were waiting to be picked up, too. It was eerily fun. Secret, almost. Twilight Zone Time, where we could do things no one knew about because everyone thought we were occupied.

Sometimes, when it was time to be picked up, we’d all pretend that we just got out of practice…never admitting to eating rocky road. Now, I think I’d have a fit if I found out my daughter was running around town buying ice cream. And well, do teenagers even sneak ice cream any more?

So, maybe it’s good that my daughter doesn’t know about that twilight zone time of secret waiting. Maybe it’s good that she’s impatient, and has a phone to constantly communicate with me. But a part of me feels that she’s missing out.

End of the story? Tom picked her and her girlfriends up for me. I finished my latte, bought my house, and an hour later came home. I showed the Reindeer Spa off to my family-who pretended to think it was oh, so cute. Then I cooked dinner, supervised homework, and cleaned everything up.

And then it occurred to me…maybe I'm still attempting to have some secret time. Only now I’m buying houses instead of ice cream. But that ‘found’ time is as sweet as ever. So, anyone else remember waiting to be picked up when they were in high school? What did you do?

Holidays

Holidays…when we gather with family for fun times and a nice meal. Where we strengthen family ties and catch up on everyone's life--Yeah, right. More on that in a minute.

First, congratulations to Lily--our October HAR blog winner! Lily, please contact the following authors through their websites to claim your prize: Shelley Galloway, Cindi Myers and Marin Thomas.

Keep the comments coming. Authors will be giving away more books to a winner for the month of November.

Okay, back to Holidays--the good, the bad and the ugly….

More likely than not, many of us will attend gatherings with people we have little or nothing in common--Family. You got that right. How is it that siblings can be born to the same parents yet be so different? Sister Susie-homemaker bakes up storm and everyone praises her cooking skills. Sister Margaret is Ms. Career Woman who travels the world and makes more money than your own husband. Then Brother Bob slides through life effortlessly, always finding people to fish him out of trouble or loan him money when he makes bad choices. And then there's you--Ms. Responsibility--the one who goes through life playing by the rules but no one cares or finds you interesting. Sound familiar to anyone???

I thought it might be fun to make up a list of tips on surviving the holidays with family. I'll go first:

1) Lower your expectations (I'm talking way lower). The day is not going to be perfect. It never has been and it won’t be this time. Uncle Joe will still tell off-color jokes and your father-in-law will undoubtedly bring up politics at the dinner table. And don’t forget Aunt Judy, she'll have one too many drinks and spill her red wine all over your white tablecloth. Just think…if no one sets the Christmas tree on fire the gathering will have been a success!

Okay, who's got the next Holiday survival tip?

Marin Thomas

For The Children (Oct 07)

In A Soldier's Arms (Feb 08)

http://www.marinthomas.com/

Beginners' pluck

A writer never stops learning, even when she’s been published for twenty-five years. Take me. I’m always experimenting with voices, fictional techniques and genres.

At first, every bit of knowledge seems confusing and hard to apply. Gradually, however, I integrate these skills into my subconscious, just as I once learned to drive or diaper a baby.

It can be hard to remember how awkward I was at the start. That unfocused style and those messy plotlines, not to mention the shallow characters and clumsy romantic arcs. Maybe some more talented authors didn’t suffer those problems, but I did.

Recently, I’ve been reading a lot of material from beginning writers. A few have won critiques through my local chapter of Romance Writers of America. Others have entered contests I’m judging, and some are students at a distance-learning institute for writers where I’ve begun teaching (you can check me out at www.longridgewritersgroup.com. I’m listed under my full name, Jackie Diamond Hyman).

Seeing their struggles reminds me of how easy veteran writers make the process appear. And a good thing, too. Who wants to read a book that seems labored?

I admire these valiant newbies. It takes courage to start up this steep hill, knowing how many obstacles lie ahead. My hat is off to you guys. I’m just glad that, through critiques and teaching, I sometimes get a chance to help.

Halloween

Happy Halloween to those who celebrate...

Ancient Origins
Halloween's origins date back to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced sow-in).
The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in the area that is now Ireland, the United Kingdom, and northern France, celebrated their new year on November 1. This day marked the end of summer and the harvest and the beginning of the dark, cold winter, a time of year that was often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before the new year, the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On the night of October 31, they celebrated Samhain, when it was believed that the ghosts of the dead returned to earth. In addition to causing trouble and damaging crops, Celts thought that the presence of the otherworldly spirits made it easier for the Druids, or Celtic priests, to make predictions about the future. For a people entirely dependent on the volatile natural world, these prophecies were an important source of comfort and direction during the long, dark winter.
To commemorate the event, Druids built huge sacred bonfires, where the people gathered to burn crops and animals as sacrifices to the Celtic deities.
During the celebration, the Celts wore costumes, typically consisting of animal heads and skins, and attempted to tell each other's fortunes. When the celebration was over, they re-lit their hearth fires, which they had extinguished earlier that evening, from the sacred bonfire to help protect them during the coming winter.

Famous Haunts

Birthplace of Liberty
Philadelphia was the first settlement in the colony of Pennsylvania, which William Penn founded in 1682. The city was the birthplace of the American Revolution, where great statesmen such as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin once walked the streets. By the mid-1700s, Philadelphia was the largest city in the American colonies. On July 4, 1776, members from each of the thirteen colonies gathered in the Pennsylvania Statehouse – now known as Independence Hall – to sign a document called the Declaration of Independence. Many say that the ghosts of our nation's Founding fathers are still hanging around Independence Hall . . .

Dancing Ben
Benjamin Franklin was an extraordinary writer, publisher, and inventor, and he helped draft the Declaration of Independence. In later years, his influence and intelligence helped our country establish the Senate and Congress and adopt the Constitution. This remarkable man spent much of his life in Philadelphia,
And he may be there still, long after his death. Eyewitnesses have seen Franklin's restless spirit at various locations throughout the city. His favorite spot, some say, is the Library Hall of the American Philosophical Society, which he helped found in 1743.
Many claim that Franklin's energetic spirit even lives on in the streets of Philadelphia, coming to life out of an old statue. Legend has it that the wise old statesman is sometimes seen dancing through the City of Brotherly Love!

Anyone have a ghost story or something "Creepy" they'd like to share?

Marin Thomas

For The Children (Oct 07)

http://www.marinthomas.com/

Random Musings & A Review

I'm not ready for October to end. Yes, my kids have Halloween costumes which is better than last year when I was trying to find one on this day. But I have a book due Nov. 15. I still have a lot of work to do on it so that my editor doesn't want to beat me with a stick. I have revisions due Thursday, but those will be done today. I'm a crazy person, but we talked about that a while ago.

I'm also still patiently waiting for my box of books. I received the author copies of The Christmas Date weeks ago. I haven't yet seen Hart's Victory.

My daughter needs it for a book report. She's scanning the porch more than me. Well, that and planning the fifty million places I need to drive her this week. (Uh, honey? Book due. Can't get it done with butt in the car. Need butt in chair at computer.)

The other daughter's book report form got eaten--my house makes homework assignments vanish. It's amazing. We don't have a dog, the carpet eats them. I'm serious. I need to contact her teacher. God help me if I forget.

So November's on its way in and I'm realizing that I've cut things close. I can do it. Four deadlines, one already down, and as of today, two to go. Oh, I'll be in Philly for 3 nights, Nov. 7-9, taking those out of the equation. I'm there for a jouralism convention where I'm writing and judging.

BTW, although I haven't yet seen my book, Harriet Klausner has. She wrote a review on her blog. http://genregoroundreviews.blogspot.com/

For fun, I'm posting the review here. It's my first book outside the American line (The Christmas Date is my 15th for American since my debut in Oct. 200o). So here's #16.

Hart's Victory
Michele Dunaway
Harlequin NASCAR,
Dec 2007, $5.99
ISBN: 9780373217823
Single mom Kellie Thompson’s beloved son Charlie is battling for his life against cancer. Charlie is a rabid NASCAR fan; so when a NASCAR camp for terminally ill children is arranged, Kellie insures her child attends.Charlie's hero NASCAR driver Hart Hampton has been in a slump so is relegated to the charity event for the terminally ill.

After meeting mother and son, Hart agrees with Charlie that he and Kellie are perfect for one another. However, she rejects his attention although she is attracted to him; her focus is Charlie. Hart wants both in his life, but though he won the kid over and the mom recognizes he is a caring soul, she still refuses his overtures; Charlie comes in first, second and third.

The romance places second and NASCAR shows up third as the star of this heart-wrenching tale is Charlie as he fights for his life yet wants the best for his mom whom he believes is his hero Hart. The three prime players are fully developed leading to readers feeling deep emotions almost as if they know the ailing child and care for him as much as Hart does. Michele Dunaway provides an angst-laden five tissue box character driven tale.

My sick "child"

Okay, so Da Vinci isn't a real, human child. He's a cockatiel, a little gray bird with a yellow head and orange cheeks. He is 20 years old, which is ancient, and he's never been to a vet because he's been healthy his whole life ... until now.

Recently he started pulling his feathers out. So I tracked down an avian vet (across town) and scheduled an appointment. But getting him there was no easy task because he doesn't willingly come out of his cage. I had to reach into the cage with a towel and grab him, then stuff him into a shoebox for transport. (This was the method recommended to me by the vet.) Let me tell you, you've never heard a shriek until you've heard an angry cockatiel stuffed into a shoebox. When I walked into the vet's waiting room, another client heard the commotion and asked, "My God, what's in there?"

With the help of an assistant who held him (with a towel, like I did, because he bites), the vet checked him out and said he appeared remarkably healthy for an old bird, and his plucking problem was probably nutrition related. Or he might be going senile, but I was hoping for the first option. For twenty years I've been feeding him the wrong things.

So now he gets a healthier diet than I do. I offer him all kinds of fruits and veggies, Cheerios, whole-wheat crackers, corn, beans, meat, cheese, plus a kind of bird chow. He eats the chow. He's afraid of everything else.

But anyway, he's doing better. It's been almost a week since he plucked any feathers. But he's still mad at me for the shoebox incident, and he hisses every time I get near his cage.

Stuff like this is no fun while it's going on. I honestly was afraid the bird was going to have a heart attack and expire in that shoebox. But now that it's over, I'm thinking I have to use this in a book. And that is the wonderful thing about writing. It gives me a constructive use for all the crazy stuff that happens in my life. I mean, you can't make this stuff up!


Kara
ONE STUBBORN TEXAN, September '07
GOOD HUSBAND MATERIAL, January '08
RELUCTANT PARTNERS, June '08

When Words Fail

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I can’t think of the right word for something. I’ll say to my husband, “Would you mind taking a look at the thingamabob? It won’t stay closed.” (As you know, he’s not exactly Mr. FixIt, but he can handle most of the little stuff.)

If I’m lucky, he knows exactly what I mean. If not, I get a blank look. So I try again. “You know, that whatsit under the counter in the laundry room?”

“Oh,” he says. “That thingamabob.”

We writers are particular about our craft. We would never substitute the word thingamabob for the correct word (except when a character might use that word in dialogue). Can you imagine? Editors and readers would have fits!

Writers choose words carefully. When a needed word fails to come to mind it can be terribly frustrating. Luckily, fellow writer friends are there to help. If they don’t know, either, or if I don’t want to bother them, I turn to a reverse dictionary some kind soul once mentioned on one of the writing loops.

At this wonderful website you can actually find the word you want by typing in its meaning. When I needed the name of a particular kind of bench for my March 2008 book, I typed in “bench with upholstered seat.” The word I sought was at the top of a list of possibilities: banquette. Problem solved in mere seconds!

If you’re interested in checking out this little gem of a site, here’s the address: http://www.onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml

Now it’s your turn to share. Are there any useful websites you recommend?


Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007

All Work and No Play . . .

. . . makes a Jane a dull girl, or so the saying says. It also makes me a stressed-out basket case.

October has been an all-work, no-play kind of month. I’ve had a full-time albeit temporary job and I’m working on my next Harlequin American Romance. For both family and professional reasons, I’ve also had to go out of town for three consecutive weekends.

Of course the great thing about a temporary job is its temporariness. Much as I’ve enjoyed being a fill-in personnel administrator, I’m counting down the days to October 31, when I go back to being a full-time writer. And I won’t be sorry to trade in the pantyhose for a pair of sweat pants either.

When I came across this picture of Winnie the Pooh and friends playing in the autumn leaves, I was inspired to schedule a fun day to help me make that transition. Doesn’t this picture make you want to take a day off and have some fun? So November 1 is officially Lee’s Play Day.

I don’t plan to play in the leaves, but I’m already giving some thought to what I will do, starting with a walk on the beach. I’m lucky to live near the ocean and like to take advantage of it every chance I get. I’ve also booked a massage appointment for mid-morning.

Sometime during the day there’ll be a trip to the bookstore, and maybe an hour or two spent prowling through a couple of my favorite secondhand shops. Not looking for anything in particular. Just looking.

My day will wrap up by going out for dinner with my husband, because a play day does not involve time in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure there’s even a law against it.

I’m not sure what else I’ll do but I love to try new things. What do you like to do for fun and relaxation? I’m open to suggestions . . . as long as I don’t have to wear pantyhose!

Lee
www.leemckenzie.com
thewritersideoflife.blogspot.com

Mars and Venus Never More Apparrent

Men and women are different. Yeah, we all know that. Different in the way we look, feel, and think. That became very apparent to me the other day in a quite humorous situation I just have to share with everyone.

I was invited to speak at a local Christian writers group by one of my good friends. This is a multi-genre writing group and as a result, boasts several male members. One of the men was wearing a ball cap with the saying, "Center for Domestic Preparedness" on it. Now quick, tell me, what do you think that means?

If you're like me, and EVERY SINGLE WOMAN IN THE ROOM you figure it has something to do with marriage. A joke maybe. I was envisioning a place where men go and prepare themselves before entering the noble and honorable state of matrimony.

Wrong.

As the fellow wearing the hat explained to us when one woman made a comment, the center is part of a military base in California and domestic preparedness is a term for the training soldiers go through in order to ready themselves in the event of an attack on the U.S. Could anything be more different than marriage?

When every woman chimed in that she, too, thought the saying was marriage related, the men there looked at us as if we were freaks or alien beings. We, on the other hand, looked at each other and burst out laughing. It really was funny.

So, I guess when it comes to sayings on baseball caps, women truly are from Venus and men from Mars.

Cathy Mc
"His Only Wife" 6/07 Harlequin American
"The Family Plan" 2/08 Harlequin American
www.cathymcdavid

Hot Dog, Anyone?

Friday night was wrestling parent concession night. For those of you who haven’t been blessed with this activity, it means that last Friday was the wrestling parents’ turn to help sell concessions during the Friday night Varsity Football Game. We didn’t actually volunteer for this job. The parent liaison called our home late one night and my husband caved in. You know how it goes-every parent in a high school booster club has to do their part.

There were twelve of us in there, each given stations. Some had ‘nachos’. Others had ‘popcorn’ or ‘Gatorade’. Another was the runner, passing hot dogs and pretzels to the ticket windows. One poor gal had the thankless job of hot chocolate maker (it was cold and windy on Friday night). My husband and I were given Window #2.

The job was pretty easy. Basically, tons of people line up, tell us want they want, we make sure they get it, and take their money and give them change.
That’s how it was supposed to go.

In reality it was like something out of an old Saturday Day Night Live ‘Cheeseburger!’ episode. Things moved at a frantic pace. Tom and I each waited on kids and parents and got pretty good at yelling out orders. Well, enough to do any diner waitress proud. It was noisy. It was windy. I had to be loud. “Two hot chocolates, one popcorn, one walking taco, and a Pepsi!” And then I had to add it all up in my head. And give correct change.

Of course, we had lots of people who changed their minds. Two popcorns. No one hot dog. No, two pieces of pizza. Don’t even get me started on the kiddos with one wadded up dollar in their hands and twenty kinds of candy bars to choose from. The game finished at 9:45. We got out of there about 10:30-anxious to get off our feet and drink some hot tea. I had lost my voice during the last two minutes of the game!

What did I learn? 1) All of us parents, no matter what we do for a living, can come together and make a stand run like clockwork. No egos can be involved in the tricky dance of delivering three plastic containers filled with steaming cheese sauce and over-flowing nacho chips to antsy eight year olds! I got pretty good at telling the president of our local bank to hurry up with the purple Gatorade.

2) Kids, by and large, are polite. They stood in line and didn’t push and shove. They asked for their order politely. They said thank you. Even the kids who wore letter jackets. Even the kids with the earrings through their eyebrows. Even, uh, my kids.

Finally, I learned what I sometimes forget-that there’s a whole lot of volunteers out there who work really hard and deserve my thanks. So, here’s to volunteers!
This week, I’m going to rest for a little bit—finish a book! Because, well, the spirit sale is next weekend and I’m on the list for that, too.

Any one else have a volunteer story?
Shelley

My Cousin's Wedding-2

I added the link in the comments in the post below, but figured it would be easier if I just posted a picture of the plane we flew in to get to Greensburg, IN.

Michele

Michele

My cousin's wedding

I'm in wedding mode. Last September I attended the wedding of Kate McMenamy, who I have known since she was in first grade. I was her afterschool and summer nanny for almost 6 years.

My cousin, who is my age, married for the second time last Sunday. Since our mothers were sisters, we've been close since being in diapers. The wedding occurred Sunday afternoon in Batesville, IN. Many of you may recognize Batesville, for I've set books near there: Legally Tender and my upcoming The Marriage Recipe (April 2008).

Since I'm on deadline and had to work on Monday, there was no way I could do the drive up and back. I left at 6 PM that night, and driving would have gotten back to St. Louis around midnight. Instead, I flew.

Well, not me personally, but for a little bit my daughter got to fly the Diamond Star four-seater we took across the country. The hero of The Marriage Recipe is a pilot. One of my former students is a commercial pilot and he helped out wwth all the research for the book.

While in The Marriage Recipe I used a Cessna, I have to say I liked this plane better. You actually step on the wing to get in and the windows are bigger--you pull the glass down to close the plane. We left Spirit of St. Louis Airport and headed for Greensburg, where my cousin had someone waiting with her van to pick us up and get us back to her house. We arrived on time, the wedding was beautiful, my cousin gorgeous and happy, and we were back on the ground in St. Louis by eight.

I'm a nervous flyer, but we went right over the Arch and I've never been able to see my hometown so well (amazing at 6,000 feet). The skies were kind and one the way home the lights below contrasted with dark patches. I'm spoiled now. No security, pilot I know--great way to travel.

I have feeling you may see more pilots in future books...in The Marriage Recipe Colin takes Rachel to dinner--in Chicago. Ah, the romance.

Michele

I love autumn, but yikes!

Fall is one of my favorite seasons. This year the leaves are especially vivid for the Seattle area. Probably because it’s chilly. more like a typical Midwest October than Seattle’s usual mild weather. About a week ago we turned on the furnace. The thing went on and off and on and off. Neither my husband nor I is mechanically inclined or do-it-yourselfers (you did not want to be at my house the one time he installed a new toilet!), so we called for help. The expert who came out replaced a part and recommended a good cleaning. He also expressed grave doubts that our furnace would live much longer. (It’s really old!) a few days later the cleaning guy showed up, About an hour into vacuuming the vents he noticed what the repair man had not: a huge hole in the exhaust pipe. This cavity was spitting toxic fumes into our house—and we didn’t even know it! Cleaning guy promptly disconnected the burner. He also charged us for his services, which were no longer needed. Ouch!

Next we invited two furnace experts into our home for advice and bids on a replacement furnace. The old one was oil, and we hoped that maybe we could switch without too much expense. Wrong! Oil it is—bio-diesel, which is better for the planet than regular oil. It’ll be another week or so before the furnace is installed. Thank goodness for the fireplace insert in the family room, and for portable heaters.

New furnace or not, from now on were having the thing serviced every year as a preventative.

How does this apply to writing (you so knew it would)? Hint: the clue is the annual servicing.

I’m a goal-setter. (If you don’t set goals, how will you know what to aim for?) I set annual, five-year, and even ten-year goals. But it’s been awhile since I’ve done any long-range planning. So, along with the annual furnace checkup, I have made a pact with myself to update both my short -and long-range goals once a year. In December, when I’m thinking about the new year.

What about you? Do you have goals? Do you update them on a regular basis? I’d love to know.


Until next time,
Ann
www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007

Night and Day

I freely admit that I'm a nightowl and have been for as long as I remember. The story goes that, before I was adopted at the age of 7 weeks, the nuns in the hospital would wait until all the other babies were asleep, then they would get me up and play with me. After I was adopted, my dad worked second shift, so it wasn't unusual that I was kept up late so he could see me at the end of his workday. As a young child, I would "read" books by the light of my nightlight, long after bedtime. I'd still rather stay up long past the time everyone is asleep and have my alone time, when I can get done the things that need doing.

But life doesn't always comply with our internal clocks, so I work around it and try to compromise, going to bed later than I should, getting up when I have to, and struggling with the loss of sleep later in the day. Today was one of those "struggle" days, so I managed to sneak a two hour nap this evening. Which of course meant that I'd be late posting to the blog.

I know a lot of nightowls, many of them writers. Michele Dunnaway mentioned in an earlier blog post that she writes in spurts when she has chunks of time. I have a feeling that many of us do the same. With other priorities, we have to sometimes save the things we love doing the most until later. I hope that means that we do them better because of that.

Are you a nightowl like me, saving your reading or writing until the day has settled into night and you can treat yourself to that quiet time? Or do you jump out of bed early, eager to start the day, with special times you've built in for your treats? Do you read/write during the day, or do you save it for later? By choice or by circumstance?

Trick or Treat!

As a self-confessed chocoholic, I have to admit that when it comes to Halloween, I'm all about the candy.

Growing up, I also liked the fun of dressing up, the scariness of going door to door in the dark, and the anticipation of the goodies I'd get in my candy sack.

Over the years, I'd dressed in a lot of different costumes, from Cinderella to a space-age robot, a ballerina to a bum, a cowboy to Count Dracula, and a bunch of other characters in between.

My most lasting Halloween memory didn't happen on Halloween itself, but the night before. One Mischief Night, my friends and I decided the time had come to investigate the local haunted mansion, an old, decaying house just a couple of blocks away. The house had sat empty for as long as any of us could remember, and year after year, it became more run-down and ratty-looking--perfect for Mischief Night marauders.

We set out with a few kids, a couple of flashlights, and a whole lot of manufactured nerve. Truthfully, I think the closer we got to the house, the more we all wanted to go home. But no one wanted to be first to back out.

One of the boys found an open window at ground level
--lucky for us, huh?--and lowered himself into the cellar. He dragged over an old wooden chair he found inside and, one by one, we followed, until we all stood in a tight circle in a cold, dank, cobweb-draped room that echoed with the scrabbling of rats' toenails and the flapping of bats' wings....

Or so it seemed to us!

The adventure didn't last long. At the first whimpered "I want out," we all rushed back to the window, climbed through it, and ran home.

Give us a break, though--we were only eight years old!

Now it's your turn. What's your scariest, funniest, or favorite memory of Halloween?


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com

Power Foods

Following is a list of power foods I came across in a women's health article:

Apples, Avocados, Beans, Berries, Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, Canola Oil, Carrots, Cold Water Fatty Fish, Dark Chocolate, Garlic, Kiwifruit, Nuts, Olives/Olive Oil, Oranges, Pumpkin, Red Grapes, Skim Milk, Soy, Spices, Spinach, Tea, Tomatoes, Whole Grains, Yogurt. (All good foods that are also known to help prevent cancer)

Here's what I consume on a weekly basis:
Canola Oil, Dark Chocolate, Nuts, Spices, Garlic, Whole Grains, V-8 juice and orange juice. As for the others…hit and miss throughout the month.

I have to confess that the older I become the more and more I "think" about what I eat. Even so, I'll never turn down an order of chips and salsa from Chili's or potato skins from Fridays. Those foods make me "Happy" although they aren't healthy--well, the salsa is good for me I guess.

What about Happy Foods? I never come across articles on various foods that improve a person's mood. Any recommendations on healthy foods that put a smile on one's face and relieve stress? Right now my daily square of dark chocolate is my only defense against stress and makes me smile--but one measly square doesn't maintain the mood all day long.

I keep thinking how productive I could be with my daily writing goals, dealing with the kids, housework and the million other things us women do every day if we were always in a good mood. Then again there's the risk we'd get nothing done because we're content to sit around and eat happy foods all day long!

Happy Reading…and Eating

Marin Thomas
For The Children (Oct 07)

*Hearts of Appalachia*
http://www.marinthomas.com/

What writers have in common

On Saturday, best-selling mystery author Robert Crais spoke to my local chapter (Orange County, California) of Romance Writers of America. You might wonder what the writer of a hardboiled mystery series has in common with a roomful of women -- and a few men -- who tell love stories.

Of course, it’s fun for any audience to hear a personable speaker, and Robert’s darn good-looking too. But he’s blunt about the fact that he has no insights to share re plotting or characterization, because he handles those elements by instinct.

Yet he had an important point to share that resonated with us. It began when someone asked how a guy from Louisiana, whose family by his own account opposed his plans to become a writer, landed in LA and snagged a series of TV writing jobs. And how, from there, he wrote a mystery, The Monkey’s Raincoat, that won awards and launched his best-selling Elvis Cole series.

The answer was one we could all identify with, whether we’re published or not. He didn’t toss off a manuscript and get discovered. He didn’t have a friend or writing teacher or relative who introduced him to an agent.

Instead, he worked hard to learn his craft and faced rejection by submitting. His first two novels failed to sell. The Monkey’s Raincoat got rejected nine times. When it was finally accepted, he had to beat the bushes for publicity because his publisher didn’t do much to promote it.

I’m fortunate enough to know a lot of professional writers. What they all have in common is the same thing Robert Crais displayed: not just talent, not just determination, but courage.

The courage to try new things, to risk failure, and to reinvent ourselves when necessary. That’s one quality working writers – and serious aspiring writers – have to possess, or they fall by the wayside.

Developing this kind of courage helps us understand people who face a variety of situations – illness, the loss of loved ones, family problems, war, layoffs, addictions – and manage to triumph, even if it’s only one day at a time. We channel that understanding into our characters, however humorous or warm-hearted the framework.

So thanks to Robert Crais, to my fellow writers, and especially to our readers for keeping us going!

Podcasts?

I try - honestly I do - to keep up with technology. I'm a whiz at word processing. I'm also fairly efficient at Excel, Adobe and Publisher. I'm a D- techie, and in the general scheme of things, that's not too bad. I know folks who can't even retrieve their e-mails. But now I'm faced with - ta da! - doing a podcast. Yikes! Roz Fox, Tanya Michaels and I have been asked to interview for a podcast to promote out November Christmas anthology, The Perfect Tree - available soon on the E-Harlequin website. Wow! Talk about being immersed in the twenty-first century.

So, when it comes out, please download it. I had a YouTube that was viewed by about fifty of my favorite family and friends. Dean Koontz had something like a bazillion hits. Maybe I should add some fire-breathing dragons on deranged aliens to my Americans. LOL

So with a podcast under my belt, am I going to have to do the Bluetooth thingie??

Have a great week.

Ann

Ann DeFee
One Magic Christmas, The Perfect Tree, Harlequin American Romance Christmas Anthology, November 2007
Goin' Down to Georgia, Harlequin American Romance, March 2008

Poke a fork in me . . . I'm done!!

Whew, it's official. Two months into the school year and I'm pooped!! Why didn't anyone tell me teaching is so much harder than writing? LOL!! I did have some fun news, though, in that I'm now certified to teach English, so as soon as a position opens up, I'm hoping that'll be somewhat less stressful than special ed.


On the homefront, all is great. We're getting ready for a Halloween party. I've told each of the kids they can invite ten friends apiece. Well, Son # 2 hates parties and doesn't want to invite anyone. Son #1 is complaining that he wants to invite fifty friends, and Daughter is complaining she doesn't like her brother's friends, and just wants to invite her own fifty friends. ARGH!!! I'm about to the point that maybe we should spend a nice, quiet Halloween with just family!! (The top pic is of Son #1 & Son #2 with friends at last year's party. They were the Village People. Son #1 was the sailor and Son #2 was the policeman. The bottom pic is of Daughter & friend at last year's party.)











I went yard-saling yesterday and found an AWESOME sofa. Eight-way, hand-tied springs, cream-colored, embroidered cushions. Loads of extra pillows with tassels. I'm soooo excited. (Especially since it's going in our bedroom, theoretically meaning no kids or dogs!) When I asked the price, I was thinking $300 would be a steal. I got it for $75!!! Only problem is, Daughter programmed the woman's number into her phone and lost the number. GRRRRR. I have all the cushions in my car, but was planning to pay Son #1's friend to haul the actual sofa in his truck. (The woman is moving, and not living in the house.) Let's just say if Daughter doesn't somehow find the number, she may be moving, as well--along with her stinky dogs!!!!! LOL!!!


In other icky news, we've had a moth infestion in the pantry, so I'm off to clean and sort dry goods and squash bugs!!


Happy Early Halloween!!! ;-)

The Busy Life (AKA Insanity--to be read tongue in cheek)

I laughed when I read Kara's last line in her blog below. She wrote, "Really, though, I shouldn't complain. My life is a cakewalk compared to that of an author with a 9-5 job and kids who still manages to write three or more books a year. Now, if you really want something done, ask one of them, not me!"

My answer--Don't ask me. I can't handle anymore. I'm insane enough as it is. I'm a woman who does too much but doesn't know how to stop. There probably has to be a course out there I can take which will help me learn the word no. Of course, I have no time to take it.

Seriously. To deal with the stress that has been constant to my Type A personality, I 've started working out, thus reducing the amount of writing time I have. Not sure how sane that is but writing is giving me desk butt. I'm crazy enough to still believe the fantasy that I can still be as slim as I was in college.

There's that Gnarls Barkley song "Crazy" that goes "I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind..."

There's something pleasant about the fact that I've learned to admit that, somewhere along the line, my life became a coke and a sandwich short of a picnic. People seem to accept my honesty. I emailed my editor these exact words: "Since I'm officially insane, change the last line of my bio to read: five extremely lazy house cats and one rambunctious kitten that rule the roost."

Her reply, "Sure." She knows me. She didn't blink an eye that I have six cats. Thankfully when you count the basement we have over 4,600 sqare feet in our house. That helps a little, but it's still eight cat boxes. Admittedly insane. However, the fact that the kids now have to clean four cat boxes each to get their weekly allowance (while I do nothing) makes me brilliant and smart. Important little known fact: losing your mind doesn't mean you get stupid.

Parties can be fun. Typical conversation starter: So what do you do? Being a writer is like being a doctor or a lawyer--people go "Wow." No one wants to be a teacher. In fact, people hear that I'm a teacher and say, "Wow, you must be crazy to teach high school." If they are a teacher themselves, they shake their head and tell me they couldn't work with anything but elementary kids. And when you find another high school teacher, then the fun really starts. Trust me.

So back to doing too much--somewhere out there someone has my nice, quiet, calm, sane life. The day I gave up trying to find that person and take it back was a pretty freeing moment. As much as I meet myself coming and going, I'm enjoying every minute. I'll see my 15th and 16th book published in December and that's worth all the mayhem that it takes.

So, I'll leave you with the chorus to the Warren Brothers' song "Change" from their album Well Deserved Obsurity. The Warren Brothers are Barely Famous and their show on CMT by that name was positively a riot.

"One of these days
my luck is gonna change
they'll think I'm brillant instead of insane
eveything will be different
but I'll be the same
one of these days my luck is gonna change..."

So if you really want something done, go find that person who's bored out of their mind living my sane life. They could probably use a shake up. As for me, the roller coaster goes on and I'm ready for the ride to continue.

Michele



Ps--on the very serious note--hopefully I haven't insulted anyone with my post. My adoptive mother has a history of mental illness, so I know exactly how hard dealing with it can be. Let me reassure you, it's something I take very seriously.

If you want something done ...

... ask a busy person to do it.

I love that saying, because it's so true. When I overschedule myself, I have to use my time wisely or I'll miss deadlines or appointments. But during a week when nothing much is going on, I move like a snail on Dramamine. I figure there's always plenty of time, no need to hurry, and so I don't.

When my schedule is packed and my To-Do list won't fit on one sheet of paper, I'm in efficiency mode. If I can multi-task, I do it. And usually, if someone asks me to do something, I say yes because I can always squeeze in one more thing. But if my week stretches ahead of me gloriously empty, I'm reluctant to take on a task because I don't want to spoil the slothfulness of it all.

Peeking at my schedule for the next six weeks is a little bit terrifying. Seems everything I volunteered to do over the past year is coming to roost in October and November--booksignings, contest judging, critiques, family gatherings, travel, tree planting, workshops, pet vaccinations, Halloween and Thanksgiving and ... oh, yes, I have both a book and a proposal due.

So someone explain to me why I volunteered to host a neighborhood wine-tasting party in two weeks? Because I'm busy and I want to be busier? Because I'm just not stressed enough?

Really, though, I shouldn't complain. My life is a cakewalk compared to that of an author with a 9-5 job and kids who still manages to write three or more books a year. Now, if you really want something done, ask one of them, not me!

Fun in a Small Town

First up, thanks to all the wonderful American Romance authors for inviting me to join them on this blog. They’re a great bunch of ladies and I’m so happy to be one of them.

My first Harlequin American Romance, Marriage On Her Mind, goes on sale this week. (You can see the cover at the right side of this blog)It’s the first of what I hope will be a series of books set in Crested Butte, Colorado. (The second book, The Right Mr. Wrong, comes out in February.)

While I’ve often written about made-up places, Crested Butte is a real, live Colorado town, one I visit often and have come to love dearly. It’s an old mining town turned ski mecca, with a penchant for quirky festivals that often involve costume parties. It seemed the perfect place to set a series of fun romances. While all the people in the book are products of my own imagination, I used many real businesses, along with many of the fun festivals from the town.

Of course, there’s a danger in setting a book in a real place. Since I don’t live there and am not a native, there’s a chance I got something wrong in sprite of all my research. Even though none of my characters are based on real people, someone might think they are. And while I meant the book to portray the town and its people in the most positive manner, someone might take offense.

Last week the county paper did a nice article about the book, and the bookstore on the town’s main street tells me they’ve ordered a bunch and will do a special display. Now I sit nervously on my hands and wait for the reaction from the town. I hope they appreciate how I’ve portrayed their home. I hope my love for the place comes through.

Over Thanksgiving I’m visiting the town and will be signing at the bookstore, so I guess I’ll find out then what they really think!

IN SEARCH OF A TITLE

Hi all,
I’m in search of a title and I could use your help. I have to come up with a list of titles for my next American and, okay, I’ll admit I’m stuck. The working title is Down In Texas.

Are you good with titles? I hope this will be fun and it will really help me. I’ll give you a short synopsis and see what you can come up with. I’ll draw a winner from those who post. The winner will receive a Texas beaded bookmark. You can see these on my Web site lindawarren.net. If your title is chosen, I’ll give you a free copy of the book when it is released. So do you feel like playing name that book:

Here goes: The hero, Reed, is CEO of a family owned Texas chain of department stores. Cari, the heroine, is a vice president in the company. She’s worked her way up the corporate ladder from a saleslady. Somewhere along the way she’s fallen in love with the handsome CEO. But Reed has a motto: he never dates the women working for him. It’s bad for the company.

Cari is torn between her heart and her job. At the risk of losing it all, she has to tell him how she feels. Just as she screws up her courage, Reed announces his engagement. Cari is devastated and knows she can no longer work for the company.

After a scheduled trip to an El Paso store, she plans to turn in her resignation. Then the unthinkable happens; the plane crashes in desolate west Texas. They are the only two survivors.

Now their lives are not about numbers, big business or broken hearts. It’s about survival. As they wait for a rescue team, they talk, shared and learn personal things about the other. When help doesn’t arrive, they start the long trek to civilization. Along the way they lean on each other and find courage, hope and love.

But is it real? Or is it something fabricated from their dire situation? Will it stand the test of the real world…

What do you think? Anything come to mind?
Have a great Monday.
Linda

Home from the Women’s Fiction Festival

I am just back from 18 days in Italy! What a wonderful time we had (my husband went with me). I could go on for hours about the food, the people, the poetry of the language, and all the fabulous art and buildings. Instead, I’m going to focus on the Women’s Fiction Festival in Matera, which I attended. I also gave a workshop there and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

First, a little about Matera. This unusual town of 65,000 is divided into old and new sections. The conference and our hotel was in the old section, where about 3,000 people currently live. This part of town has been populated for 7,000 years (that’s no typo— seven thousand), making it the longest ongoing town in the world. The first dwellers built their homes in the rock that rims the city. They lived in these caves (called Sassi, or homes of stone) along with their animals as if they were in the middle ages until 1950, when the Italian government was shamed into moving many of the people into homes with running water and electricity. (Thanks to a book about the subject, Christ Stopped in Eboli by Carlo Levi, which I intend to read in the near future.)

Many of the Sassi have been modernized. In fact, our 28-room hotel was once a group of Sassi houses and businesses. Our room was part of a church built in 800 and de-sanctified in 1950. It looked like a roomy cave, with light, heat and air conditioning, comfortable furnishings, and even a few windows. A fun, novel place to stay! (For a few photos of the hotel, visit http://www.travelitalia.com/it/hotels/Matera/1439/ )
The conference was small, about 50 attendees (mostly female) from the US, England, Italy, Germany, France and Sweden. Translators were available, too, and these amazing ladies were able to instantly translate English into Italian—no easy feat. Liz Jennings, the organizer of the festival, promised to make us speakers feel loved and welcomed. She lived up to that promise and then some. The night before the conference we met in an upscale boutique in Matera for a lovely cocktail party. Food and wine abounded, and we met other writers in town for the conference. After that, we enjoyed Happy Hour in one of the old squares, sitting outside to enjoy hors d’oeuvres and wine, while we listened to two very attractive actors read poetry in Italian. Made my little heart go pitty pat. ☺

Friday evening, Liz organized a tour of the town (during a full moon!), complete with a visit to Musma, a unique sculpture museum. We wandered into a huge cave consisting of room after room on various levels into the earth, where modern sculpture is artfully displayed. The juxtaposition of ancient and modern is truly marvelous.

And the food… There is nothing better than slow food. By that I mean pasta made and prepared on site, using fresh ingredients. Long, leisurely lunches and dinners. Oh!!

There were several agents and editors in attendance, and it was easy to sit down and chat. Plus lots of wonderful authors from America. Barbara Samuel, who I thoroughly enjoyed, Cindy Gerard with her fabulous energy, Kayle Perrin, Rosemary Laurey (aka Madeleine Oh) and Rachelle Chase. Liz Fielding (a Harlequin author from England) was there, too. Also editors Raelene Gorlinsky, Hilary Sares, and Karen Stoecker—fun ladies, indeed. The two agents from the U.S., Katharine Sands from the Jane Freymann Agency, and Christine Whitthohn from Book Cents Agency, both stayed at my hotel. I enjoyed our morning walk to the conference center. So we trudged up tons and tons of stairs that left us panting and somewhat warm from all that exertion. The exercise kept me from gaining a single pound, despite enjoying plenty of pasta, gelato and wine.
I gave a talk on creating realistic characters. It seemed to be well-received. A real thrill for me was when an Italian woman who runs a blog brought Another Life, which she had ordered from Amazon, for me to autograph. Another was that my name was mentioned in the local paper—in bold! If only I could fully comprehend Italian… ☺ For all I know, they said I was no mountain goat. Which would’ve come in handy for scaling all those stairs…

I didn’t stay for the Saturday cocktail party (we wanted to spend time in Rome before coming home), but it was hosted in an old olive oil factory/cave. For more info on the festival, visit www.womensfictionfestival.com .

Well, I’ve rattled on enough for one time. It’s good to be back, and I don’t intend to miss any more blogging days if I can help it.

Until next time,
Ann

www.annroth.net
Mitch Takes A Wife, August 2007
All I Want for Christmas, November 2007

Huge Pileup on Superhighway!

The Internet is a wonderful thing. It's allowed us access to virtually unlimited information. It's given us an easy way to maintain contact with family and current friends. And it's provided plenty of stress-free opportunities to make new friends.

On the other hand (no pun intended), it's caused thousands--if not millions--of cases of carpal tunnel syndrome, eyestrain, and back problems, along with a whole host of other physical ailments.

And for some, it's become a time sink, a procrastination tool, and/or The World's Largest Pile of Paperwork.

There are six-hundred-fifty-plus messages in one of my e-mail accounts and four-hundred-plus in the other. And those are only the totals from the inboxes! It doesn't take into account anything archived in the outboxes, saved in the draft folders, pending review in the junk mail and bulk mail folders, or (gasp!) stored in sub-, sub-sub-, and sub-sub-sub-folders!

The good news is, all those messages are there because, instead of reading them, I'm busy doing the things I'm supposed to be doing.

The bad news is, even though all those messages that will need to be taken care of...someday... are "invisible" since they're packed tidily into my computer, they're starting to feel just as towering and intimidating as any humongous piles of "real" paperwork.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who's dealing with traffic jams on the Information Superhighway!


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

Barbara White Daille
http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com

A Perfect Meeting

My father passed away years ago. Since I don’t live anywhere near where I grew up, and life is what it is, I rarely come across anyone who knew him.
One thing special about my dad was his ability to keep friends. He was a dedicated letter writer, and he often kept in touch that way. He often corresponded with friends that he’d had for twenty or thirty or forty years. One of those people was Bill Cosby. They’d met in California back in the sixties, and both loved cars. For that, and I guess because they just hit it off, he and my dad kept in touch.
Anyway, when I read in the paper that Mr. Cosby was scheduled to perform at the Belterra Casino in nearby Indiana last Saturday night, my husband and I decided to go. When we got there, I gave a security guard a hastily written note on the back of a business card, and asked if she could pass it on to Mr. Cosby. Well, I got handed over to person after person. I carefully told them that Mr. Cosby had known my dad, and if he had a moment, I’d like to say hello after the show.
Maybe because I’m a writer, I had envisioned all kinds of things happening. Maybe we’d get moved from our balcony seats to the fancy VIP ones when Mr. Cosby got my note. Maybe he’d mention my dad during his show. Maybe the security guard would signal us over and tell me that Mr. Cosby was ready to visit with us, soon. Of course, none of that happened.
Mr. Cosby’s show was wonderful. Tom and I laughed and clapped, and all in all, it was a nice evening out. But I was kind of disappointed. I’d wanted to speak to him in person, not because he was famous, but because he knew my dad. So, I stopped by the security booth on our way out. The lady found her boss, who assured me that Mr. Cosby had, indeed, received my card before the show. End of story.
Okay. I’ll admit it, I was sad. Even though I knew it had been a long shot, I’d still imagined things differently. Well, my husband likes to gamble. We’d planned to have some dinner, and go to the casino for a little bit. After all, our usual Saturday night highlights are waiting for our kids to come home by their curfews. But I didn’t want to stay.
So, there we were, standing in the middle of the lobby of Belterra, with my husband very sweetly trying to convince me that we still had a fun night out and it was time to move on. And then, just like in the movies-out came the security lady from the crowd!
In short, Mr. Cosby had someone read him my note after the show and he said he wanted to see me. That put everyone in a tailspin. This lady was given the job of tracking us down. In a matter of minutes, we were escorted back into the theater, through a back door, and right to Mr. Cosby, who had quite a few people there, getting pictures taken with him.
Finally it was my turn. I introduced myself. Reminded him who my dad was. And then I got the best present of all. He gave me a hug and said, “Shelley your father was a good friend.”
Our talk might have lasted five minutes. I introduced him to my husband. We thanked him for seeing us. He shared a quick story about my dad. And then it was time to leave. Yep, Tom and I got some dinner and I played the slots for a little while. And I was happy once again. I’m glad my dad had taken the time to keep a friendship over several decades. I’m grateful that a friend of my father’s took the time to say hello to a daughter.
And I hope I remember this often and remember to write a note or two to people I haven’t seen in a while. Keeping in touch makes all the difference in the world.

September Blog Winner

Congratulations to Danny, September's HAR Blog winner! To claim your prizes, please contact the following authors (Jacqueline Diamond, Laura Marie Altom, Kara Lennox and Linda Warren) Their websites are listed along the sidebar of the blog. Include your name and snail-mail address.

Authors giving away a book for October include, Marin Thomas, Shelley Galloway and Cindi Myers. Keep those discussions going--there's a new winner every month!

Gotta love the month of October--A shift toward cooler weather, a burst of vivid color before the bleakness of winter sets in and the beginning of a continuous rotation of front-door decorations--Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's and Valentines Day

And October is doubly special for me this year because the first book in my all-new miniseries for the American Line *Hearts of Appalachia* hits the store shelves. For The Children takes place in fictitious Heather's Hollow in eastern Kentucky.

To help kick off this series, I've got a brand-new video trailer on my webpage-- I invite you to click on www.marinthomas.com where you'll be transported into the Appalachian Mountains, complete with pictures and music.

As I researched this series, I stumbled across some interesting Appalachian recipes. Here's one I actually tried and it wasn't half bad!

Sawmill Gravy
Ham, sausage or bacon grease, 3 tbsp flour, milk, salt and pepper and water. Add flour to grease in hot pan to brown. Thin the mixture with a little water and add milk. Salt and pepper. Stir until thick. Add crumbled fried sausage for a real treat. Serve over homemade biscuits.

Anyone out there with an Appalachian recipe they're willing to share?

Happy Reading!

Marin
For The Children *Hearts of Appalachia* (Oct 07)
www.marinthomas.com

Memorable snapshots

Old photographs. New photographs.

They take on special meaning at a family reunion. The reunion itself takes on extra significance when it celebrates your mother’s 90th birthday.

Last month, my husband and I flew from California to my hometown of Nashville, Tennessee, to celebrate the 90th birthday of my mother, internationally renowned ceramic sculptor Sylvia Hyman. (Try Googling here – you’ll be amazed what you find!). We also honored her 22nd wedding anniversary to my stepfather, Arthur Gunzberg, and held a family reunion.

The event coincided with an exhibit of my mother’s recent work – fool-the-eye ceramic sculptures – at the Frist Center for the Visual Arts. Also, we viewed a wonderful half-hour documentary about my mother, Sylvia Hyman: Eternal Wonder, directed and produced by Nashville filmmaker Curt Hahn.

There’s far more in my memory than I could possibly write here, about touching bases with beloved relatives, meeting other cousins for the first time, and spending time with my mother and stepfather, whose mental sharpness outpaces most 20-year-olds.

Thank goodness for photographs, and not just the new ones, either. There were old photos in albums, shared by relatives, who asked my mother to identify that mystery person in the back row or where the shot was taken.

Of course, the new photos – emailed to each other, posted on websites, pasted into scrapbooks – save these latest memories for us and our kids. Someday, perhaps, my grandchildren (if I’m lucky enough to have any) will be asking me to identify who’s who.

Let’s just hope I remember!