The Power of Positive Thinking

No one likes to be sick and I’m sure there isn’t a person on the planet who likes being in the hospital, but I’m of the opinion that the power of positive thinking goes a long way to helping a person feel better and get well. This philosophy of mine was put to the test two weeks ago when I had surgery, followed by a two-and-a-half day hospital stay.

I was in a room with two other patients, a man and a woman, both elderly. The man had recently recovered from pneumonia, probably had emphysema, and was in the early stages of delirium. He kept taking off his oxygen tubes and getting out of bed without calling the nurse. The staff was concerned he’d fall break a hip, so even my first night, while I was still coming out of the anesthetic, I was having to buzz for the nurse to come and help the poor old fellow.

On my last night there, a nurse pinned the call button to his gown so he couldn’t get out of bed without calling her. But in the middle of the night he took off his oxygen and the gown and went to the bathroom, stark naked! Then the next morning, after yet another trip to the bathroom, he said to the nurse, “There’s a water problem on the floor in there.”

“What kind of water problem?” the nurse asked.

“I peed on it,” he told her.

In my opinion, the nurses all deserved gold medals. They had infinite patience with him, and although they seemed to be run off their feet, they did their very best to keep a close eye on him.

The other person in my room was one of the most cantankerous old women I’ve ever met. There didn’t seem to be much wrong with her, yet she never stopped talking about how terrible she felt, how much pain she was in, and how the incompetent doctors and nurses were doing nothing for her. She even complained to the cleaning staff, the people who deliver meals, and other patients’ visitors. It turned out that her malaise had been brought on by taking too much of two different kinds of medication. She lived alone, but I suspect needs to be in a care facility where her medication can be monitored. The nurses did their best to make her comfortable, although how they kept their patience with her I’ll never know. She didn’t acknowledge anything they did for her, and her litany of complaints never let up.

While I was recuperating, I did my best to let the staff know I appreciated the care they were providing and all the attention they were giving me. And because of that, I think I got even more attention than I deserved. One nurse helped my daughter fix my hair, which had managed to turn itself into a matted mess. Seriously, I managed to take a bad hair day to a whole new level. Another nurse helped me have a shower.

In spite of the great care I was receiving, it was a huge relief when my surgeon consulted with the nursing staff on my third morning there and decided I was ready to go home. Home! I was finally able to get a good night’s sleep, which further strengthened my resolve to think positively. Now, two weeks later, the surgeon says that as far as healing goes, I’m in the top five to ten percent of the population, and that I’m now at the stage where the average person would be in two months.

So yes, I do believe in the power of positive thinking. It’s working for me!

And while I’m at it, I’ll send a huge thank you to the nurses and other health care providers who did such an excellent job of caring for me. Thank you is something they don’t hear often enough.

Lee McKenzie
www.leemckenzie.com

One Chore I Don't Mind

The other day I was standing at the stove fixing breakfast for my twin son and daughter (they're seniors in highschool and will graduate in May). My husband came into the kitchen, stopped in his tracks, and said, "What are you doing?" Though I thought it was obvious, I patiently explained (grin). He couldn't believe it and started to lecture me on how the kids were old enough to fix their own breakfasts and hadn't they been doing exactly that since starting school in the fall.

Okay, he was right. I won't argue the point. But I'd been struck with a sudden and overwhelming case of my-children-are-almost-grown-and-will-be-out-of-the-house-soon. I can remember when they were in first grade and I'd fixed French toast sticks or scrambled eggs with cheese, then hurry them to finish eating before they ran outside to catch the bus. For just a little while, I wanted to be that mommy again. Not the one with a son who's a full nine inches taller than her or an absolutely stunning daughter who looks twenty-five when she's all dressed up.

I know my children are old enough to take care of themselves. Heck, I hardly see them anymore except in the mornings before they head to school. To my husband, fixing them breakfast is an extra chore to add to my already long list for the day. But to me, it's a chance to sustain the magic for just a little longer because soon enough, they'll be going off to college.

I guess when that day comes I could fix my husband breakfast but he just doesn't have the same happy reaction when I serve him French toast sticks.

Cathy McDavid

PS - how funny that Shelley's post is about breakfast, too. Must be on our minds.

The Pancake Breakfast

Lately I’ve been on deadline. Actually, I’ve had a lot of deadlines…so I haven’t been doing much other than writing and looking out my office window.

However, I do have yet another installment in my continuing drama as a wrestling parent volunteer. This involves the annual pancake breakfast, of which I was in charge.

I’m a very hard worker, but I’ve never been particularly organized. So, it was with a little bit of trepidation that I accepted this job. It basically involves getting about ten volunteers together, buying a bunch of pancake mix, orange juice, milk, and sausage, then making and serving it all to six wrestling teams after weigh-ins on a Saturday morning.

Now, I’ve helped with this before. Actually, I’ve helped every year my son’s been in high school. Last year’s parent in charge actually made a binder listing everything to do. I just had to do what she said. But still I was nervous.

Last week, in between writing and well, writing…I went to Sam’s Club and bought all the ingredients. I went to a parent meeting and solicited parent volunteers. I stressed over griddles, crock pots, extension cords, and storing five gallons of milk. Luckily, my husband helped with the heavy lifting.

On Friday night, it all began. I had to cook 250 sausage links. It took three hours. I finished at 1am. I had boys over who were running on the treadmill in the basement because they had to make weight for the weigh-ins. No, they did not appreciate the smell.

And, boy, did my house smell! The dogs were barking and begging. Grease was everywhere. I worried about keeping those darn sausages relatively moist until six am the next morning. It was a pain. My husband and I and all the boys were back up at five, loading cars, then going to the high school. You can imagine the next few hours. Setting up griddles and syrup stations, making pancake batter, carting those sausages around.

Finally, at 7:30, we were ready. Our team’s boys got to eat for free. Boy did they eat! The other teams, well, they elected not to pay the $3 for breakfast and brought their own food.

That’s when my pancake breakfast came to a screeching halt.

Yep, that’s right. Imagine 7 volunteers, two large containers filled to the brim with pancakes. Over 200 sausage links (still moist and very edible, I might add!) ready to go. 8 o’clock came. 8:30. 8:45. We only sold another 7 breakfasts. That’s when things got desperate. The emphasis went from making money for the team to getting rid of the food. Parents started eating pancakes. We asked the janitors and referees if they wanted free breakfasts. Only about half did. At 9, we had to clean up. I gave away four gallons of milk. We uh, threw the sausage out.

I ran to Starbucks, got more coffee, ran home and put on orange and black, and went back to watch my son wrestle. He won his first match. Yay! He uh, also threw up. Yep, several of the boys found that the pancake breakfast wasn’t really the best thing to have before wrestling in five matches. It was a pretty nasty thing to watch. The coach shook his head in dismay. I wished I could slink out the back door.

My husband looked at me and shrugged. He told me it wasn’t my fault this breakfast had become, well…The Worst In the Team’s History.

But I know better. There’s a reason I spend most of my days sitting in an office, staring out the window, making stuff up. Things just go a lot better that way!

Shelley

New Editor

On Friday, I found out I was getting a new editor.

As an author, getting a new editor can at first be like losing your boyfriend or spouse. You’ve grown accustomed to having that person in your life. You don’t want them to go. You have rapport and friendship. You’ve been through many books with them. You’ve leaned on them, and they’ve pushed you to make your writing better. You know what to expect.

The first time I got a new editor was immediately after I’d sold. Melissa Jeglinski bought my first book way back in Sept. 1999, and soon after I was shifted to Patience Smith since Melissa already had a full list of authors. I loved having Patience as my editor. She and I did many a book together, and while with her I got to work with a few other editors as well, for at times someone else in New York would guest edit a particular book. I remember the day Patience called me to tell me the line was moving to Toronto and that she would no longer my editor. I wanted to cry. I might have once I hung up the phone.

Then my new editor called me and introduced herself and we started working together. At first the transition was rough, but everyone kept telling me how lucky I was to have her. I’ll admit, it took a few books for me to know what her other authors were talking about. My new editor pushed me in new directions and made me work harder than ever before. She was demanding and relentless. Still, she worked tirelessly with me to sharpen my prose, and suddenly I was no longer a one or two book per year author, but a three-four book per year author. I’d reached a new level, and all because of her tutelage and refusal to let me settle. Then one day she called and said she was moving to a new line and I was getting a new editor. I wanted to cry again.

My new editor and I did three books together before she ended up being downsized in a Harlequin restructure. I went back to my former editor—hooray!—who I was with until the call came on Friday that she had left the company.

This time I took the news in stride, but still, I was depressed. I’ll miss her and I’m always nervous because now my new editor and I have to get accustomed to each other. It’s like getting a new English teacher. Each one teaches the same language skills, but all have slightly different techniques.

I’ll officially meet my new editor via a phone call next week, although we’ve chatted before. She’s reading a few of my books now to learn my voice. She’ll start by editing the book I just turned in, and on Monday she’ll have the proposals my agent just sent. Thus, we’re going to jump right in.

When it comes down to it, I’m sad to have lost my editor, because she taught me much more than I ever thanked her for. At the same time, I’m very excited and looking forward to working with my new editor. Each editor has pushed me in a new direction, and ensured my continued growth as a writer. I have no doubt my new editor is going to do the same, and I can’t wait.

Goodbye, Lizzy

For nearly 17 years our cat, Lizzy, was a part of our family. A long-haired tortoiseshell with a short manx tail, she was petite and adorable and pretty much ran things. At least she thought she did. When she was happy, that little tail vibrated with excitement, just like a dog’s.

That changed around the age of 14. Lizzy turned cranky. Mean, even. She’d as soon scratch you as cuddle. That was no fun for us or any of the well-meaning friends who ended up with claw marks on their arms or hands. The vet told us Lizzy’s thyroid was off, so we had to buy and feed her thyroid meds twice a day. Expensive, and quite a daunting taks. After a week or so of meds (and doling out a few nasty scratches), my husband and i got the hang of things. Lizzy never did like those pills, but her temper mellowed out some. Though not enough that we ever trusted her again. We let her tell us when she wanted petting, and it wasn’t often.

About six months ago she stopped grooming herself. For a long-hair cat, that means knots and filth and grossness you don’t want to know about. In November I found a wonderful kitty groomer who shaved her all over (she was that filthy) and washed her thoroughly. I made plans to bring Lizzy in once a month for a bath and combing.

Early Wednesday morning I headed for my usual workout at the gym. When I got back all the lights were on. At 6:00 am, this was strange. My husband met me with a sober face. Lizzy couldn’t move her hind legs. I sat with her, stroking head, which seemed to calm her, while my husband dressed to take her to an emergency vet.

Putting her down was the humane thing to do, the vet said. “Then do it,” my husband said.

After raising three daughter and numerous dogs and cats, hamsters, chameleons and fish, neither my husband nor I wants another pet. Lizzy was our last.

We buried her in the flower garden out back. She is at peace. We won’t be dealing with cat hair everywhere or those nasty hair balls or clawed-up furniture or kitty litter. No more twice-a-day battle to make her swallow those pills. We’ll be able to travel without worrying about her.

But I miss her.


Until later,
Ann
www.annroth.net
The Pilot's Wife, March 2008

2008? Already?

As the old saying goes, time flies when you're having a good time. As I get older, I've come to believe that it doesn't matter how good it is, time is going to fly, no matter what. And 2007 made me think of Gone in Sixty Seconds.

When I was younger, I was convinced that the moment between New Year's Eve and New Year's Day was magical. It was in that moment that certain things would change, just because I wanted them to...wished them to. The same was true for birthdays, when I'd stay up to see "my" day arrive at the stroke of twelve. But I'm older and wiser now, and I've come to understand that it's nothing more than a date on a calendar page and a number on a clock. Magic is what you make of it. Goals and hard work can help.

I'm not much of a goal setter. Oh, I have been. Too often I've set my goals too high or set too many, and failing to reach them was discouraging, at best. It's taken time and disappointment, but I've learned that small goals, taken one step at a time, help me succeed, even if it sometimes seems like baby steps. Especially when the goal is to get through a day without losing what's left of my sanity. And then another saying comes to mind: A journey of a thousand miles starts with one step. So maybe those baby steps aren't so bad, after all.

I'm sure by now you've all realized that I didn't set any New Year's goals, nor did I bother with New Year's Resolutions, which I would break in record time. But if I were to make a resolution, I think it would be to take a deep breath whenever stress or frustration or worry start to overwhelm me.

So let it be said--eighteen days late--that my New Year's Resolution is to BREATHE. Besides, if I don't do that (breathe), I won't be around to avoid making more resolutions. And what fun would that be?

Have a happy one (year, that is) everyone!

Web woes...

Hello, and a belated Happy New Year!

Hope your holidays were wonderful, you got everything you wished for, and your new year has started off with a bang!

My old year ended in a fizzle....

Before the holidays even began, my computer started acting up, my e-mail followed shortly after, and I was unable to access the Internet for over a month. Talk about frustration!

Since my link to the Worldwide Web was broken, I had plenty of time to wonder how everyone else felt about working and playing "out there" in cyberspace.

Are you completely attached to your e-mail, your Instant Messages, your downloaded photos, and your chat loops?

Or are these things you can live without?


All my best to you,

Barbara

~~~~~~

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

Reunions

Today I'm blogging about reunions. Some of my readers know from the Bio Page on my website that I played Division I women's basketball for the University of Arizona…way back when. I graduated from college in 1986. I returned to Tucson this past weekend for my first ever women's basketball reunion. What an awesome experience! Five of my teammates during the mid-80's made the reunion. We hadn’t seen each other in 22 years!!

In the above picture we're standing in the corner of the weight room at the U of A. I'm wearing the white western shirt.

It was as if no time had passed since we'd last taken the floor together. We waxed nostalgia--the good, the bad and the ugly of playing a collegiate sport. We reminisced about games, players and coaches and what they were doing today. We talked about our 7-21 season my junior year and how we got a new coach my senior year and turned the program around with a 21-7 season! It was an awesome feeling to go out a winner the year I graduated.

We were treated to a tour of the athletic facilities which made us all drool. We agreed that the athletes today don’t appreciate how good they have it. When I played we were given one pair of basketball shoes and one pair of running shoes for the entire year. The women's player's today get at least three pair not to mention a TON of athletic wear. (I'm positive the guy's basketball team gets even more than that). They have access to state of the art medical facilities--there's an x-ray machine right in the training room. The U of A has 1 of only 3 underwater treadmills in the country. I kid you not. When an athlete is injured and rehabbing their ankle or knee, they submerge the athlete in this pool and have them run on a moving belt while underwater video cameras record the movements of injured body parts to monitor proper healing.

The locker rooms had leather couches and flat screen TV's. The only thing we used the locker room for was to change into our uniforms. The weight training room had a Gatorade bar for athletes--we had a drinking fountain in the corner. There were enough exercise bikes for an entire basketball team to use at once--we had to wait our turn. It truly is amazing how far collegiate athletic programs have come. And they have academic advisors that now travel with each team to make sure the players are keeping up with their studies and to provide tutoring assistance on the road.

For a few days I felt like I was twenty again with a world of choices in front of me. But in the end when I walked off campus that weekend I knew that I wouldn't have traded my experience at the university for anything. I worked hard and played hard and was so very grateful for the opportunity to have my college education paid for. I will never forget what a privileged it was to play for the U of A.

I can’t wait until we meet up again in four years!

Marin
In a Soldier's Arms *Hearts of Appalachia* (Feb 08)
A Coal Miner's Wife *Hearts o Appalachia* (Aug 08)
http://www.marinthomas.com/

Me? Isolated?

Quiet descends.

Our two sons have returned to college after Christmas vacation, and the round of parties, meal planning and laundry has suddenly shrunk. It’s been leftovers and easy meals all week for my husband and me.

Many people believe writers work in isolation. In a sense, that’s true, yet I don’t feel isolated, even with the post-holiday letdown.

Last Saturday, at a meeting of the Orange County chapter of Romance Writers of America, I heard the ever-delightful Carly Phillips discuss how she consults with a critique partner and a plotting group on her best-selling novels. Also, over lunch, I enjoyed catching up with several writing friends, including popular Harlequin Spice author Jina Bacarr.

Tomorrow night, I’ll be attending a meeting of my critique group, the Fictionaires, which has about twenty members. This group – with a changing roster – has been around for more than forty years, offering constructive criticism as well as emotional support.

Plus, I’m teaching a writing course through the Long Ridge Writers Group. Through individual lessons submitted by mail or on-line, I meet eager students who share their insights and creativity. We may not confer face to face, but their personalities reverberate across the miles.

And that’s not all.

My husband once commented that I’d spent all day alone. That surprised me, even though I had in fact been sitting in my office that particular day, working on a novel – no on-line chats, no teaching. But my had hero flirted with me. My heroine confided her problems. Their friends and colleagues and relatives paraded through my brain, reminiscing and squabbling and demanding their own share of the spotlight.

What I really needed, after a day at the computer, was some peace and quiet.

Misc. Rambling!!!

Hey All!

Sorry for the late post, but I just walked in the door after a loooong day of jury duty. I REALLY wish I could discuss the case, but no such luck.

In other news, my new job is going great! I think I mentioned it in the last blog, but I'm now teaching reading at a local middle school. It's fun sharing my love of reading with kids. We just finished a lesson on urban myths which made me crave trying my hand at a paranormal. One thing about the Har. Am. line that I miss, from a readers' standpoint, are the great spooky reads. Anyone remember some of Anne Stuart's? Anyway, seeing how I enjoy featuring kids in my stories, it's big fun being with kids all day! Although it has been tough fitting in writing time.

If anyone happens to be in the OKC area this weekend, I'll be signing copies of my January anthology with Merline Lovelace and my best bud, Margaret Daley. Margaret just retired from over twenty years of teaching, and it's like some alternate universe thing for her to now be off from school and me to be teaching!

My own kids are doing great! Daughter's getting ready to attend UCA's National Cheerleading competition in Orlando. The boys aren't too happy about her getting to go to Disney again. Last year, I went with her and had a blast, but with this being my first year of teaching, I was too afraid to ask my principal for a week off!! (This month's pic is of Daughter and a friend during last year's trip.)

Hubby's been traveling a lot. Last week, he was in DC, and next week, he's off to Napa. I've always wanted to go!!! Although, in his defense, I doubt he'll have much time for wine tasting or seeing the sights.

Okay, time to get back to work on my wip, but in the mean time, stay warm by cuddling up with a great Har. Am read!!!

My resolutions

Unlike Kara, I made resolutions this year. I admit, normally I don't because I fail miserably within the first week, so I usually boycot them. However, this year, I made set some goals and decided to really stick with them. I started before Christmas the following:

#1. Sell 5 books this year, bringing my total to 25. This is one I do have control over, sort of. I've got 3 of the synops needed done, and as to the 4th, I'm struggling a bit. My editor and Kathleen have already seen my Harlequin American ideas and like them, so now I just have to nail everything down and get the 3 chapters I need to write done (so they can say yes!!!). As for book 5, I have until December to figure that one out.

#2. Lose 10-20 pounds. Yeah, this one's always on the list, but this year I'm serious. For the first time in years I've changed my diet and now find myself eating less and more healthy, while still enjoying foods I love. I'm working out weekly with a trainer and getting myself on the treadmill in between sessions. I'm doing yoga/pilates poses while watching TV. I also can't wait until spring, when I can get my bike out. Unlike those diehards, I don't do cold. Thus, I came off the holidays without gaining any weight and actually losing inches.

#3 Spend more time with my family. This is always a priority, and this time I'd like to see my daughters and I doing more things together aside from riding around in the car. I'm seeing if we can go on vacation over spring break. Somewhere warm sounds great. I'm skipping RWA (I have to teach that week anyway) and using the $$ for a family trip.

#4 Eliminate the negativity that often surrounds me. This one's the hardest of them all. I've discovered that the further I get in my writing career, the more insecure at times I feel. I mean, how do you keep being fresh and interesting to your readers? How do you get new readers? The above proposal was eye opening because, as I plotted, I was like, "I've already done that, so I need something else." This year I've discovered that the writing world is becoming very similar to the high school students I teach-- it's containing too much drama and being a little too illogical. So I'm stepping back from chapter listserves and relying more on my friends-for-life who could care less what I do or how many books I've written. I've found I'm a lot more productive that way. I need to stop comparing myself to others, the biggest flaw I think I have. I mean, I can easily get sucked into "my nose is too big, I'm too fat, I'm getting older, and I'm not making the progress I want compared to Writer X who seems on fire." So I'm stepping off that negative spiral and unsubscribing from the lists, especially since I'm not one who can usually keep my mouth shut.

5. Pay down debt. Ah, another goodie. I need to be a little more choosy, but I've already decided to keep the old junk heap that has 93,000 miles on it rather than buy new. I need to prioritize better. I also need to say no to my kids when they want something they really don't need. That's the tough one.

6. Sleep more. That one's obvious.

All six things above are designed to bring about one thing: a relief from the constant stress that was 2006 and 2007. I'll keep you posted as to how I'm doing.

Say No to Resolutions

By now, lots of you out there have already given up your New Year's Resolutions. Admit it! You swore you'd cut back on soft drinks, and you did ... for a couple of days. You were going to work out three times a week ... stop eating Cheetos cold turkey ... be nice to your mother-in-law if it killed you. And where did all those good intentions get you? Disappointed in yourself, probably.

Yeah, I've been that route. But this year, I haven't reneged on a single resolution! Eleven days and I'm exactly on track. No, I don't have extraordinary will power or a personal coach to keep me on the straight-and-narrow. My secret? I didn't make resolutions this year. My apathy was in keeping with my entire boycott of the holidays, and it's the best decision I ever made. This was the most relaxed, stress-free December of my life, and January is shaping up to be much the same. (At least I didn't start it with five extra pounds, which is how my New Year usually begins.).

I only have one goal for this month, and that is to finish my latest Harlequin American. It's the second in a trilogy (SECOND SONS ) that starts in June with RELUCTANT PARTNERS. This one doesn't have a title yet, but my hero is, well, a nerd! I'm having a great time with it. It's scheduled for December 2008.

Now, if anyone has any ideas for how I can give up Cheetos, I'm all ears.

The power of January

I'm still wincing over Linda's poor broken toe. Ouch! A little thing like that can really bring us low. I spent Christmas and New Year's fighting the flu. I'm still a little congested, but I feel soooo much better than I did. Just in time for a new year.

January here in the Colorado mountains means c...c...cold temps and lots and lots of snow. (Which you can see my dog, Katie, loves.) I know people who would gladly spend the whole month huddled under a quilt, like daffodils waiting for spring, but I find the weather invigorating. I love bundling up and taking the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood, or hitting the ski slopes. The whole world looks white and clean under its blanket of snow -- white like a blank piece of paper or a blank computer screen.

Perhaps I'm feeling this way because I started a new book this week -- another Crested Butte-set American. This weekend I'm headed there to ski and do 'research.' Starting a new book is both exciting and intimidating. I'm getting to know new characters and I'm looking forward to telling their story. But I always wonder if I'll do them justice. Will I be able to pull off writing a whole book again?

January is a time when we begin again, and I find such power and comfort in that. No matter how badly we screwed up last year, this year can be different. Of course, realistically we start over every day. But the beginning of the year seems a particularly auspicious time to begin anew. The days are gradually growing longer, and no matter how cold it is outside now, we know warmer days will arrive eventually.

Are any of you excited about a fresh start, new projects or new goals for the year? I hope 2008 brings you many wonderful adventures and blessings.

Cindi Myers
The Right Mr. Wrong, Harlequin American, Feb. 2008 RT Top Pick!
A Soldier Comes Home, Harlequin Super Romance, June 200

Better late than never...

Better late than never…

That’s true, isn’t it? Today is my day to post and I’m just now thinking about it. Sorry. But I have a good excuse, besides senility. I broke my blasted toe. And I really didn’t want to start 2008 this way. It’s better today not so purple and swollen. I’m still trying to get a shoe on without making faces.

That’s what I get for trying to take the ham out of the freezer to thaw for New Year’s Day. I should have waited for my husband, but oh no, I had to do it just then. It wasn’t on the top shelf, but the next, and as soon as I tried to lift it out, it came sliding out of there like a greased pig and land on my foot. I saw stars and said a few words I’d only heard other people say.

The thing thawed on the utility room floor until my husband got home. And, yes, we had the blasted ham for New Year’s Day dinner. Somehow I didn’t enjoy it as much as in other years.

My slogan for this year is to watch out for those flying hams!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, everyone!
Is everyone enjoying the new year?

Linda Warren
www.lindawarren.net
TEXAS BLUFF—Feb Super Romance
ALWAYS A MOTHER—June Super Romance

New Year's Goals

Greetings!

Ann commented Saturday on a big issue for most women, and certainly for me: Time management. What to do, when, and how to do it all?

I'm preoccupied with goals and goal setting right now, as I'm due to give a mini-talk on that subject at my RWA chapter meeting later this month. I'm not great at it--I admit it. I'm a deadline person (as in, I don't do anything before I have to). LOL

But I'm also a list-maker, which is a way of goal setting. Last week, I had line edits due, I had to get a picture (yikes) and bio in to eHarlequin and to a website I just joined as an author, and I needed to get info to my web person for my newsletter to be properly set up (oops-missed that one). Reminders had to go out to the goal group I moderate (which is why I was asked to do the mini-talk) and to the critique group I moderate. As you'll notice, there's nothing personal on this list, such as laundry, cooking dinner, running errands for my mom, seeing a movie with my kids (a real priority--we saw I Am Legend), taking down the tree, etc. So I put the essentials on my list, with due dates or goal dates if no one else cares when they get done.

And I didn't do too badly. Of course, the edits had top priority and got completed (3 a.m. counts, right?) and I got the pic and bio in on time to eHarlequin. I saw the movie and ordered pizza, which is sort of like making dinner. The tree came down and my mom's errands got run. Sure, I have a few leftover items for this week, and more will be added, like plotting the next book, but I feel a real sense of accomplishment.

Do you set goals? Are you good at it? Maybe you have a tip or two I can use in my talk. I'd love to hear them.

Till next time,
Megan Kelly
www.megankellybooks.com

Where does the time go?

Is it already January 2008? By my calculations, it should still be summer of last year. The holidays and the months leading up to them passed in a blur. But nobody asked me, and alas it really is January.

It’s a funny (not really!) thing—the busier you get, the faster time passes. When I was a child time seemed to crawl. I remember waiting and waiting and waiting to turn six, which I thought was the magical age when I’d know more and be so much more knowledgeable and skilled than I was as a mere five-year-old. Of course I soon learned that six was nothing special. When you turned ten, then you knew it all. At ten, the magical age became thirteen. And so on. But that’s a discussion for another time.

There’s that word again: time. Supposedly time is infinite. When we’re all dead and gone time will continue to march on. (This is a good place to mention global warming and how our days may not march by, after-all, at least not as we know them now. But I’ll leave that lecture to someone else.) Here’s the question that plagues me: if time is infinite, why aren’t there enough hours in the day to get everything done? Why is it then when I finally have an hour to spare, it passes in a blink?

Stuff fills in the time. It always has and always will. For me, the only way to make sure I get things done is to make that list Trish mentioned back in December. And I do, almost every night before bed. If not then, first thing in the morning. Somehow, when it’s written down and I can see it, it gets done. Amazingly, I often have time to do even more than I planned.

Whether you use lists or not, I’m curious. How do you accomplish it all in twenty-four hours? How do you make the best use of your time?

Until later,
Ann
www.annroth.net
The Pilot’s Wife, March 2008

Pie, Anyone?

I’ve had my share of pie-making mishaps through the years. I’ve produced soggy crust, cardboard crust, and just plain terrible crusts under the fillings. And as for the fillings-well, I’ve had mistakes there, too. Burnt custard. Strawberry pie filling that would never get firm. Stuff that was just plain bad.

When I was making a Ritz cracker pie in fifth grade, the end of my hair got caught in the beaters of the electric mixer. In two seconds flat, a big chunk of hair was wound up in two meringue-coated beaters-with them still going! That little experience earned me a haircut and whole lot of teasing from my older sister.

When we lived in Colorado, I miscalculated the amount of butter needed in a buttermilk pie and, well, set fire to the oven. I’m still thankful to my mom-in-law who bought me one of those fire blankets for under the kitchen sink. My kids, who were preschoolers back then, still talk about the time Mom almost burned down the house.

Even though I’ve had plenty of, well-let’s just call them catastrophes- over the years, I have to admit I’ve made some great pies, too. My mother let me cook a lot when I was growing up, and that freedom has given me far more successes than failures in the kitchen. No, I still haven’t mastered my mother’s pecan pie or lemon meringue, but I can certainly bake pretty well. Except for one kind…for years one pie has evaded me…no matter how many recipes I tried, I just wasn’t happy with the results.

That all changed on Monday. Yes, on New Year’s Eve, I finally made a great coconut cream pie. Well, actually, my daughter and I made it.

Baking is one of the things we do together-it’s actually one of the few things my daughter and I do together. But once we get into the rhythm of rolling out pie crust, measuring ingredients, and carefully spooning in the filling, things just seem to go well. The years roll away and we only concentrate on the task at hand, not curfews and boyfriends and English grades. Obviously, I’d cook with her all the time if we could.

Back to that pie. When we brought it to the table after dinner, we beamed with pride. The meringue was lightly browned and dotted with toasted coconut. The filling was creamy and devoid of lumps, and the crust was crunchy and perfect. The boys in our family said it was good, ate a few bites, then went back to watch football. But Lesley and I savored every bite. We knew we’d done something special.

So, even though it’s a new year and we’re not supposed to be thinking about desserts…anyone have a favorite pie? Or does anyone feel like sharing a cooking mishap? Oh-and just in case you’re wondering, our coconut crème pie recipe came from The Taste of Home cookbook. I would whole-heartedly recommend it.

Happy New Year!
Shelley

December Blog Winner

Happy New Year!

Congratulations to Jennifer Shirk--the winner of our December Blog Contest!!

To claim your prizes, Jennifer, please contact the following authors through their websites:
Lee McKenzie
Michele Dunaway
Victoria Chancellor

Ann Roth will be taking over the Contest duties for the blog so be on the lookout for Ann's post announcing the winner the 2nd of each month.

On behalf of all the American Authors...we've enjoyed your company and hope you will continue to stop by each day and share your thoughts and comments.

Happy Reading!

Marin

Endings and beginnings

Our sons are home from college for the holidays. Older son overslept (“I turned off the four alarms I’d set and just lay down for a minute”) and missed his flight, but Southwest shoehorned him onto another that arrived only two hours later. Younger son arrived and blissfully turned his laundry over to me, leaving his wallet and keys in the pockets. You’d be amazed how well that stuff survives the washer and dryer.

In some ways, these are turning-point holidays. Older son graduates in May and will be moving on, either to graduate school or a job. We’re kind of hoping for the whole income-plus-medical-insurance thing, but either way, he’ll never be an undergraduate again.

We also said a sorrowful goodbye to our cat. Blue was a stray we adopted seven years ago, an affection gray-and-white striped tabby who developed a sore on his nose that wouldn’t heal. It turned out to be cancer. We let him enjoy his last days in the California sunshine, lasting longer than the vet had predicted, but then the disease picked up speed.

I’ve never been a fan of putting pets to sleep. Our last cat died peacefully at home. But when it became clear that Blue was miserable, we took the final drive with him meowing woefully in his carrier.

Goodbye, little fellow. Hope they have lots of catnip mice in kitty heaven.

These holidays also marked a meeting with our first grand-nephew. Hello to Frankie, a sturdy four-month-old who basks in the adoration of his parents and grandparents. His arrival marks the start of a new generation in my husband’s family.

And so, on this New Year’s Day, I wish you all many happy beginnings and a year full of love.

Happy New Year!

The Harlequin American author bloggers would like to thank you for spending 2007 with us and we look forward to blogging and chatting with you in 2008.

Have a wonderful New Years Eve and New Year's Day and we resolve that in 2008 we'll keep bringing you top-notch American Romance (and for all the years after that as well).

The best to you and your family,

The Harlequin American authors

Guilty Little Pleasures

My children are on vacation this week in Alabama, so ever since Dec. 26, my house has been quiet (minus the six cats sprawled out all over). I've been using the time to get my 20th book written and to simply do nothing. Some days I get up, work out, write, and go to bed when I finally feel tired. That's it.

Last night I went out with friends, something I never get time to do since life is always so booked solid, and I came home at 2:30 AM and then got up this morning at 11 AM. It's been an awesome week where I haven't set my alarm clock once. I'll go back to that "up at 5:15 AM" on Jan. 2. I'm in no hurry.

So my lounging around, which is something I can't do when my children are home, got me thinking of all those days pre-kids when it was just me and I had the freedom to come and go as I please, with no one needing to be at guitar lessons or the doctor or something. That time of my life seems so far ago, not that I necessarily would trade my kids and get it back. Okay, maybe when my two girls are fighting. :)

But parenting means you give up things like sleeping until noon. All those indulgences that I used to take for granted so long ago, like taking a candlelit bubble bath with a glass of a wine and a good book are things I no longer have time for. A vacation with kids simply means I'm somewhere else being on the go--so much to see, so little time to do it. Getting away for an hour for some alone time is only a brief escape--life's tension comes back the minute I leave the spa or get off the trail. There's simply so much going on.

So I'm enjoying the guilty little pleasure of not having my kids this week. They're having the time of their lives, and for a few days I've stepped off the treadmill, turned off the world, and freed myself up to be lazy and simply relax. Except for writing, which I love, I don't have to do a thing. This is when I recharge my batteries. And I am proud of the fact that my TV hasn't been on the Disney Channel once. That'll happen Jan 1, when they come home.

Happy New Year everyone and as you go into it, don't forget to carve out that time for yourself. And if you have any tips as to how to stay sane in a crazy world, don't hesitate to let me know.

Michele

Bird by Bird

There's a wonderful writing book by Anne Lamott called Bird by Bird. The author explains that when she was young, her brother was assigned to write a report about birds, but he put it off until the last minute, then panicked about how he was ever going to write such a long report in one day. His father told him to just write it "bird by bird." Ms. Lamott took that advice to heart, and that is how she keeps the enormity of writing a novel from overwhelming her--she doesn't think about the whole novel, just one scene, or one chapter, or even one good description, at a time. (I hope I am doing the book justice; it's been a while since I read it but I remember that it is wonderful.)

I am both a writer and a birdwatcher, and this month I've had the pleasure of spending a month in "the birdiest spot in the country," the Texas Gulf Coast near Corpus Christie. I'm really only a novice birdwatcher, so when I came here almost every bird I saw was foreign to me. I would walk along the beach and feel overwhelmed by the number and variety of shorebirds; I would stare at a bird, then check the field guide and find half a dozen different birds that looked just like it.

But gradually, with much studying, I started to sort them out. I learned what markings to look for, the length and color of the beak and legs, the way it flew or fed. Now I can spot and identify dozens of water birds with a mere glance.

To bring this back to writing, I think we learn to write a novel the same way. At first, all the terminology is baffling and overwhelming; internal conflict vs. external, motivation, pacing, point of view, internal dialogue, transition, scene and sequel, high concept, theme, three-act structure, hero's journey. If you try to take it all in while you're writing your first book, you'll drive yourself crazy.

But if you study just one aspect--point of view, maybe--and you read different books and passages looking for examples, suddenly it clicks. You'll understand point of view the rest of your life, just like I'll recognize a marbled godwit on any beach next time I see one. Pretty soon, you're incorporating all those esoteric writing terms into your stories without even thinking about it, because it's become automatic.

I could probably take the analogy further; learning to cook is the same way. Probably learning to sew or garden--bird by bird.

(By the way, this blog is very late because I was out birdwatching all day! My bad.)

Happy New Year to you all,

Kara

Congrats to the 2007 RT Award Nominees

THE MAN FOR MAGGIE Lee McKenzie Harlequin (June 2007)

FROM TEXAS, WITH LOVE Cathy Gillen Thacker Harlequin (April 2007)

THE TEXAS RANGER Jan Hudson Harlequin (May 2007)

HOME TO THE DOCTOR Mary Anne Wilson Harlequin (July 2007)

THE RANCHER'S CHRISTMAS BABY Cathy Gillen Thacker Harlequin (December 2007)

Ah, what a lovely list

I like this week between Christmas and New Year’s Day because it’s when I make my goals for the next year. It’s when I take stock of what I’ve done the past year and decide what I want to accomplish in the next 12 months in several areas – writing, personal improvement, home improvement, and entertainment/fun. This week of planning is just an extension of who I am the rest of the year. Hi, my name is Trish, and I’m a list maker.

My list making began when I started school (as in first grade). I made daily lists of what homework I needed to complete, what I needed to take to school the next day, and what I wanted to wear each day. These lists grew in complexity as I progressed through school. I eventually added calendars and daily planners. Okay, this is really nerdy, but I still like the look and feel of a fresh new daily planner. They have to show a week at a time, and the paper can’t be slick. I hate it when ink smears on glossy paper. I also enjoy printing off blank monthly calendars from the Internet too and plotting my daily writing progress, deadlines, blog dates, etc. There’s a nice sense of accomplishment when I’m able to check off one of those items as completed.

And you know what’s the coolest thing currently residing within the crisp pages of my new 2008 planner? My very first book release date! Come next September, my first Harlequin American will hit shelves. I might pass out from excitement. But in the meantime, I have to write in deadlines for my second American and my second young adult book. Let’s just say, my winter is going to be busy. But it’s definitely a good kind of busy.

So, are you a list maker? Do you enjoy setting goals for a new year? What are some of your goals for 2008?

White Christmas

Where I live on the west coast we won’t be having a white Christmas, but last night I watched the film version. Yes, White Christmas, the 1954 classic, starring Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen. It’s my favorite holiday movie of all time and I watch it every year, even though my family thinks it’s cheesy and can’t figure out why I love it so much!

Maybe it’s the costumes. I adore the dresses with the full skirts and narrow waists worn by Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen. Not that my waist was ever as small as Vera-Ellen’s. At least not since I was ten. My favorite dress is the black evening gown Rosemary Clooney wears to do her solo performance at the nightclub in New York. In my imagination, I look just as stunning as she does in that dress. Isn’t an imagination a wonderful thing?

I love that the sets and backdrops that so unabashedly fake. In an industry now governed by computerized special effects, it’s refreshing that the simplicity of a cardboard set still works. At least it works for me.

And then there are Irving Berlin’s masterpieces. After all, who doesn’t love the title song? And Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen’s "Sisters" routine? Although I must say, I love Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye’s version even more!

The humor and the love stories are wonderfully heartwarming and innocent. And then there’s the way everyone helps General Waverly. Would somebody please pass the Kleenex?

At the end of two hours everyone's hoping it'll snow on Christmas Eve—and it does!

White Christmas is one of my annual traditions. When my shopping is done, the gifts are wrapped, and the house is completely decorated, I settle in for an evening with Bing and Danny and Rosemary and Vera-Ellen, and then it truly feels like Christmas.

Today and tomorrow are my two favorite days of the year. As I post this blog, my husband is driving to the butcher shop to pick up our free-range, organic turkey. This afternoon, as is our family tradition, we’ll put up the tree and decorate it, and then family will arrive for a Christmas Eve buffet supper. Tomorrow morning we have our gift opening and brunch, and in the evening, a traditional Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. And although there won't be snow, everything will be perfect.

My very best wishes to all Harlequin American Romance readers and authors for a wonderful holiday!

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

Holiday Cheer with Friends

I'm almost done with my holiday preparations. For the first time in two weeks, my husband and kids are out of the house. Finally, I can retrieve their presents from the back of my car and wrap them away from prying eyes. I do have a little shopping left to take care of this afternoon. Mostly food, we're having dinner at our house on Christmas day (a tradition I love). And, I have to find "one more thing" for my mother and my mother-in-law. If your Moms are anything like mine, they're hard to shop for, and I'm wracking my brain for ideas.

This last week has been very harried, as I'm sure it was for everyone here. But harried in a good way. Among my customary holiday celebrations is a dinner out with my critique group. We've been together four-and-a-half years, and I credit them with much of my success as a writer. More than that, they have become some of my closest and dearest friends.

Normally, we meet at more casual places, Starbucks, Ihop or the like. During the holidays, however, we go to a nice restaurant for dinner and exchange token gifts. It's fine that the gifts are just mementoes because what these wonderful ladies give me during the rest of the year is too valuable to put any kind of a price on.

Here we are at the Olive Garden. I'm the one on the far right. We took over a small corner of the dining room and for nearly three hours, celebrated with good food, stories, and enlightening conversation. If I could grant one wish for each of you, it would be for a close and supportive friendship like the one I have with these ladies.

To all our Harlequin American readers, authors, friends and family out there, have a lovely holiday season and a joyous New Year. Thank you for letting me be a small part of your life and for making mine all the better because of knowing you.

Warmest wishes,

Cathy McDavid

Moments To Remember

My daughter cut off most of her hair last Wednesday. She did it for a variety of reasons, but the main one was she cut that hair was she wanted to donate it to Locks of Love. For those of you who haven’t heard of this organization, this nonprofit accepts donated hair and makes wigs for cancer patients, the majority of them children. Yep, it’s a worthy organization, and I was proud of her willingness to make such a sacrifice.
But what was funny was that we didn’t know what a sacrifice it was until the hairdresser SNIPPED off her pony tail and presented Lesley with ten inches of beautiful brown hair that would never again be on her head. Well, Lesley took one look at that pony tail and let out a wail worthy of the most dramatic fourteen year old. “My hair!” Then, of course, she promptly started crying. Next thing I knew, I was crying, too.
Yep, it was a pretty big day.
It’s amazing how some things affect you way more than you ever thought they would. My husband and kids have the unique ability to either make my days or ruin them with one remark, smile, or smirk. A perfect fall day always lifts my mood. So does the first snow.
Other events are just as momentous as you’ve always dreamed them to be, such as a selling a book. When I sold my first Harlequin, I barely made it through the phone call with my agent, then as soon as I hung up, I sat on the stairs and cried. My husband was sure someone had died and ran up the stairs to comfort me. Nope, it wasn’t a crisis…just a dream turning into a reality.
Now, as we rush toward Christmas, where there’s always too much to do and not enough hours in the day, I’m going to do my best to take some time to appreciate all the moments that mean so much- like spending time with family and friends. Eating a really good piece of pie. Candlelit church services. Early morning squeals of joy. Quiet cups of coffee with only a brand new book for company. What are some of your favorite moments?
Shelley
PS…I won’t be around much to answer today. Wrestling Meet…and concession duty!

Happy Holidays

Hello, and happy holidays to everyone. I just returned from our company's annual Christmas lunch. (My husband owns a company that sells school furniture, and I work there part time as the accounting manager.) We had a wonderful, warm time. As I looked around the table, I really felt as if we were one "family" despite our differences in so many ways. Two employees brought children, which we've never had as guests for lunch before, and that made the get-together even nicer.

Our family will be celebrating Christmas with our 20 month old granddaughter, who is just the age to unwrap presents and squeal about everything. Next Christmas, we'll have two granddaughters. I am so glad that I have children back in my life as they are constant sources of joy . . . and of course, writing inspiration. For example, I wrote the proposal for my June 2008 HAR when my granddaughter was the same age as the baby in the book, and I finished it just about the time my daughter announced that they would be having another baby. If you read the epilogue, you'll know what I mean!

In the meantime, again, let me wish you and your family the happiest of holidays. Even if you don't officially "celebrate," a long winters nap or a steaming cup of hot chocolate could be just the thing to lift your spirits. And, of course, curling up with a good book!

Happy Holidays!

For today, I'm not going to write anything too profound. It's the last day of school for the year--the kids return Jan. 3, teachers are back Jan. 2. I have one final to give, and then I'm done.

I just wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'll use my break writing--I have a book due 1/4.

I was also featured at the Motivated Writer. If you're curious about my office and my writing process, please stop by and check it out.


http://www.themotivatedwriter.com/12december.html

Michele

Not the usual holiday celebration

In two days it’ll be winter solstice, the darkest day of the year. If you happen to live in the pacific northwest (I’m in the Seattle area), that means it’s dark by 4:20 pm., and the sun doesn’t rise until nearly 8:00 am—a whole lot of nighttime!

My husband and I decided to do something to usher out the shortest day. Last year we hosted our first annual winter solstice party. We invited lots of friends, many whom we hadn’t seen in ages, and served great food. I even made a hot spiced rum punch. We lit candles in every room. It was great to see everyone and watch people who’d never met make friends .

Our winter solstice party was so successful, we’re doing it again this year. The party, held on December 21, starts as darkness falls, around 4:30, and goes until whenever. I plan to raise a glass of hot rum punch to everyone who makes writing this blog so enjoyable—readers, writers and all my Harlequin American authors/sisters.

Wishing everyone a Happy Winter Solstice and Happy Holidays!

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

Holiday Wishes

Wow! Christmas is almost here and before we know it, 2008 will be, too.

Before I became a big time romance reader, I'd buy all the women's magazines at Christmastime for the short stories. Redbook, McCalls, Good Housekeeping. It didn't matter. I just loved those happily-ever-after stories centered around the holidays. They always put me in a holiday mood and left me with a smile.

The year my youngest daughter was born, I discovered contemporary series romance and bought every Silhouette Romance that had a Christmas theme. (Yes, 18 years later, I still have them!) I never dreamed that one day I would be blessed with the opportunity to write my own books.

I've been incredibly lucky to have joined the wonderful Harlequin American writers this year, and especially to have my first HAR coming out next month. That it has a Christmas theme only makes it that much better.

If you're like me and would like to extend the joys of the holiday, I hope you'll find that Family by Design does the trick and keeps those after-holiday doldrums at bay, for just a little longer. Single mom Becca Tyler is at the end of her rope when her old flame walks back into her life. Nick Morelli still bears the wounds she inflicted when they broke up, ten years before, but he can't turn his back on her or her three small children. Can he keep the secret that would drive her away and still protect his heart and Becca?

This is such a special time of year, no matter what holiday is celebrated, and families play such an important part of the season. I wish you and yours the most joyful holiday this year, with peace and love flowing into the new year!

Okay, time to fess up. I bet there are some of you, like me, who use the holidays as an excuse to eat what you want and not worry about putting on those few extra pounds because, guess what? New Year's is right around the corner and so are those resolutions. The first on the list--lose five pounds. So breakout the eggnog, bake those cookies and make that fudge and don't you dare feel guilty--I'm not going to!

Dieter's Night Before Christmas
Author Unknown

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips

Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.

Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care

In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps

Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.

When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,

Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.

The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow

Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear

A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!

That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick

I knew in a second that I’d wind up sick.

The sweet-coated santa, those sugared reindeer

I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;

On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS

A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall

Now dash away pounds now dash away all.

Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress

My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly,

They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

I spoke not a word but went straight to my work

Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn

Gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.

I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry–

If temptation’s removed I’ll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night

In the morning I’ll starve… ’til I take that first bite!

Merry Christmas and best wishes for a safe, happy, and healthy New Year!

Marin
*Hearts of Appalachia*
For the Children Oct 07
In A Soldier's Arms Feb 08
A Coal Miner's Wife Aug 08
www.marinthomas.com

Letting Go

My younger son has been at college since August. We carted his stuff into the dorm in Tucson, said goodbye and left on our seven-hour drive back to Southern California. His Thanksgiving break was short, so he stayed there (fortunately, his new girlfriend's family invited him home for dinner).

As a result of our driving him to Arizona, he hadn’t been on a plane since last summer, when he went to visit his grandmother in Nashville. On that occasion, I helped him pack on this end and my mother saw him to the airport on the other end.

So, naturally, this week I sent him an e-mail two days before his flight home for Christmas. Don’t forget to check in 24 hours in advance, I cautioned. Make sure you’ve arranged transportation to the airport. And remember not to try to go through security with a Swiss Army knife attached to your key chain the way your older brother did once, because you’ll lose it.

Just a few little reminders.

He wrote back a frosty e-mail. Okay, not that frosty, since it ended with one of those computerized, sideways smiley faces. But he addressed me as mother instead of mom, and even on-line, I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

He’d already programmed his cell phone to beep him 24 hours before flight time. He knew perfectly well how to pack for a flight. And his girlfriend was driving him to the airport.

Sigh.

I’ve always appreciated the way my parents let go of the reins once I entered college. I flew alone from Nashville to Boston, took a cab to my dorm, and didn’t go home until Christmas. Aside from one visit during my junior year in high school, my parents never came on campus until I graduated.

I was much more self-reliant and highly motivated than my younger son, I tell myself. Nevertheless, it’s clearly time to drop those reins.

That’s what we parents have to do. Watch them like crazy when they’re little, hover on the sidelines while they stagger through adolescence, and then … let them go.

And hope they’ll find their way back again. At least for a visit.

I’m happy to report that he arrived without losing a single piece of luggage. He wasn’t mugged in the airport, he didn’t misplace his laptop, and he easily survived a one-hour delay in his departure, making his connection in Las Vegas with aplomb.

Welcome home, kid. And happy holidays!

Bah Humbug!!!!

Hmm . . . Where to start? This has been the worst week I've had in a looooong time.

(As we can't find the camera, I snatched this pic off the web. It was taken by Dayzella, and is representative of how things look around town as far as downed limbs. Only many are bigger, and on top of houses! I've never seen anything like this. It's like a tornado hit the whole town.)

That said, there are thousands in Tulsa faring way worse than me. Sunday night, we had a massive ice storm blow through that wiped out power and phones to over five hundred thousand folks. It's being called the worst power outage in OK history. Our house is cold enough to see your breath. Lucky for us, Wednesday, we hit the lottery by finding an open hotel room. By day, we keep our gas fireplace going for the pets to stay sort-of warm. Most every tree in town has been shredded by the ice. In some neighborhoods, there are so many downed limbs, you can't even drive through. Schools have been out for the entire week.

Seeing how I have a book due tomorrow, all of this free time should've been a major blessing, but with no power, it's been rough. I've written with my laptop plugged in at coffee houses, in the car, and even at the Olive Garden!

Last night, I called in our outage to PSO, and was told that our power should be on within minutes. We rushed over, planning to party, only to find more cold, darkness. Ugh. As of this morning, it's still not on.

Meanwhile, we just heard via text message that Daughter has cheer practice. Cheer practice??!! Um, I was talking with some other cheer moms, and we all decided our minds are a bit preoccupied about now.

The sad thing is that while our situation has been stressful as far as spending $$ for a hotel and eating out every meal, I can't fathom how folks who can't afford what we see as necessities are coping. Please, keep them in your prayers for power to come on soon, although PSO is now saying it may be next Wednesday before full power is restored.

Foreign Editions

One of the fun things about writing for Harlequin American is googling my name and finding wild things, like French editions, on the internet.

The above book came out in November 2007 and guess what, I have no idea what book it is. I'm guessing that this is one of the books set in Chicago, so I'm thinking it may be The Wedding Secret.

Sometimes I received author copies and other times I don't. Usually I recognize the picture, but oftentimes the photo is changed. It's strange--in Australia I'm a Presents author and in Japan I'm a Silhouette Special Edition author. In France I'm a Desire author.

What I really find fun this time is that I've been packaged with a good friend of mine, Patricia Kay. Neither she nor I knew Harlequin would do this. In fact, the authors don't know what books will be picked up for foreign editions. Harlequin does the translating.

Have a great day! I'm off to work--

Michele

Christmas Traditions

My husband and I were married on December 22nd many years ago, in a church decorated with greenery and poinsettias. We spent our first Christmas together on our honeymoon. To me, Christmas has always been the most romantic time of year, one filled with tradition and memories.

That first Christmas, we exchanged gifts with my husband’s parents a few days before the wedding. They gave us camping equipment, which we’d wanted. (We got engaged on a camping trip.) Then his mother presented me with a small wrapped box. In it was one of those Hallmark Keepsake Ornaments — Our First Christmas Together. That started the tradition of buying a new ornament each year. If the ornament isn’t already marked with the year, I mark it. We have a ceramic ornament I purchased at the Smithsonian Museum of American History. I was thrilled to find one marked 1997 — that particular year. Only when we unwrapped it later to hang on the tree did we realized the stylized script actually read 1907. We always make jokes about remembering that as a very good year. A wooden plane commemorates the year my husband took flying lessons. Others mark new houses. All the milestone years are also celebrated with special ornaments — 10, 15, 20 and 25th anniversaries.

There are other special ornaments on our tree. Ornaments purchased in different places we’ve visited. Ornaments given to us by friends. And pictures of our beloved dogs, both past and present. Decorating the tree is a trip down memory lane for us, and a special way to start the holiday season.

I try to make time during the holidays for listening to special music (the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas by Vince Garibaldi), watching holiday movies (While You Were Sleeping, A Christmas Story and Love, Actually are three must-sees) and reading Christmas books. I love Christmas-themed short story collections and just finished The Perfect Tree by Roz Denny Fox, Ann DeFee and Tanya Michaels. I highly recommend it!

Not all my traditions are old. When we moved to Colorado, we added the tradition of going out into the National Forest near our home to cut our tree. We take the dogs and tramp around in the snow for an hour or so until we find just the right tree. Then we cut it, haul it to the truck, and toast our choice with hot cocoa.

A girlfriend and I have made it a tradition these past three years to get together one afternoon after the decorations are up and treat ourselves to tea at Denver’s elegant Brown Palace Hotel.

Traditions help set this time of year apart from ‘ordinary time,’ help us to get into the right frame of mind and enrich the holidays. They can be as elaborate as a holiday feast and as simple as a cup of eggnog. And they can be adapted, discarded, or re-created as it suits our needs. So what are your holiday traditions? What traditions have you added recently? Which ones have you discarded in favor of something else?

Whatever your traditions or celebrations, I wish you much peace and happiness in the coming year — and many wonderful books to read!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Hi all,
I can't believe we're at the end of another year. Where did the time go? We're all facing the busiest time of the year.

As I think about the holidays, I think about family and traditions. In my family we always gather on Christmas Eve with my brothers and their families. This is probably the only time of the year we’re all together. The family is getting larger and we still continue the tradition. I look forward to it every year and just watching the excitement of the little ones. As I’ve gotten older I tend to lose that excitement in all the hustle and bustle of getting everything done.

This year my goal is enjoy the moment and feel the excitement, like a little kid. (May be totally impossible.)

Do you have traditions in your family? Or goals for the season.

This is my last post for 2007, so I wish you all a happy and joyous holiday season. And I wish you love.
Happy New Year.
Linda

Press!!!!

I received press this weekend. I'm one of the authors featured in a Columbia Missourian article.

Here's the link:

http://www.columbiamissourian.com/stories/2007/12/07/passion-writing/

You never know

Hi,
I'm sure many of you have heard about our current weather catastrophe. In the Pacific Northwest we're used to rain, wind, and yucky winter weather, but this time we were really slammed. I-5, the backbone of commerce for the west coast, has been closed for almost a week and they're saying it might not open for quite a while. The big trucks are having to take a huge detour through the mountains. And guess what? They're having avalanches in the pass. Pretty nasty, huh?

I suppose the moral to this story is that you never know what's going to happen. Lots of folks went to bed fat and happy and the next thing they knew they were being picked up by a helicopter. Believe me, that's not my idea of reliable transportation. In the past week we've had flooding, downed trees, mudslides, avalanches, sinkholes, a snowstorm and collapsed roads. About the only thing we were spared was a plague of locust.

By luck of topography (something about being near Mt. Rainier) we missed the brunt of the storm. We had lots of rain and wind, but no real damage. So I have my fingers crossed for the remainder of the winter. Last Christmas we were without power for a full week. That's when my hubby went out and bought a generator. We are now prepared for almost any occasion - maybe not Big Foot and/or the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, but just about everything else.

So, enjoy every day. You just never know.

Ann

www.ann-defee.com

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

Airports, airports

I just got back from visiting my parents in Indianapolis. Wouldn't you know, part of the time we had Seattle weather--rain. Must've brought it with me. :-) I had a wonderful time, and always hate to leave. There are no direct flights from Seattle to Indianapolis (except in the summer, when Northwest offers one each day. But only in the summer--go figure!). That's why I spent a few hours in airports coming and going, waiting for my connecting flight.

Much as I dislike the waiting, airports are terrific places to hatch story ideas. Observing how people behave can help us writers enrich the behavior of our fictional characters. Here are some of the people I observed (I sound like a bird-watcher, lol) this trip. A harassed young mother coping with a baby and a very active toddler. A couple arguing about how she always picks on him and he's sick and tired of it. (Little did they know that I was eavesdropping!) College-age boys watching college-age girls, and vice versa. Service men and women, so young and brave, coming home from Iraq for a two-week leave. When I see soldiers, I always tear up. Without getting into politics, just let me say that I hate that they're exposed to such dangers, and hate that some won't come back. I always send them good wishes and hope they stay safe.

Each of the above people/scenarios stirred my creative juices, but what snagged my attention and my imagination most was the thirty-something father and his teenage son (who looked about 14). The man was occupied with his email. His son looked bored and slightly hostile, but also somewhat lost. My mind positively spun with questions. What's going on between them? Does the father always work, even with his son in the same room? Does he intentionally use work to distance himself from his son, and why? Is the son resentful? Does he feel loved? And where is his mom?

You guessed it, my head is full of possibilities for a story with this scenario in some form or other. At the moment, I have lots on my writing plate, but I have no doubt that at some point in time, I will develop a story about a father and son... and the missing mother.

What are some of the most interesting events and/or people you've seen at airports? I'd love to know.

Until later,

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

I Want A Weiner Dog For Christmas

Oh, Christmas! I love this time of year. I like being busy, so the extra baking, card delivering, gift wrapping and shopping don’t really get me down. Maybe because I really like to bake and shop~now I can do both without feeling guilty.

This time of year is crazy for our family because it’s a busy time for our kids. Our son is a wrestler so each day begins with a weight report. Each days brings three hour practices and a late-night load of laundry. Weekends involve watching meets and hoping he doesn’t bleed, get hurt or get ringworm. Our daughter is a very peppy basketball cheerleader, so of course, we’re at all those games, too. It’s hectic and fun. Since they’re both in high school my husband and I can see that these years are numbered.

Which brings me to Christmas lists. Years ago my kids used to put things on their lists that they know they wouldn’t get. Like a princess bed for my daughter. Or a hamster. My son’s wish for a pet snake. There was something about dreaming for the impossible that made Christmas seem even more magical.

I’m continuing the tradition this year. See, I want another weiner dog for Christmas. (doesn’t that have a nice ring to it?) I love puppies. And, well, I really love Suzy our red miniature dachshund. We have Phoebe, too…the beagle who ate our ham, our neighbor’s Christmas cookies, and my mother’s stash of Reeces peanut butter cups. But Phoebe isn’t eating us out of house and home, she sleeps. She’s a great dog.

Suzy, on the other hand, is my buddy. She stays by my side when I write. She does all kinds of cute things. And, well, wouldn’t just one more dog be fun? And, well, another dog would sure keep me company when my busy days with the kids are just a memory….right?

My husband says no. I don’t blame him. Dogs are expensive. They’re a mess. Weiner dogs bark a lot. But…don’t you think a new little black and tan one would be so cute?

I’ve been combing the Dachshund rescue sights. My friend Heather forwarded me a blog Jenny Crusie just wrote showing photos of her three new weiner dogs. I guess I'm not the only one who dreams big.

So, even though I know I won’t get a new dog, and I know I don’t need a new dog…I’m putting one on my Christmas list. Just because the idea of a new pup makes me smile. A lot.
Anyone want to share a secret Santa wish that they have? In the meantime, hope everyone enjoys this busy month as much as they can.

Shelley

Christmas Fun Facts

Before we get into a few fun facts about Christmas I located on the internet, I want to announce November's Harlequin American Blog winner. Congratulations to Nathalie! To claim your prizes, please contact the following authors through their websites with your name and snail-mail address. (Roz Denny Fox, Ann Defee, Barbara White Daille, Ann Roth and Lee McKenzie) Keep those comments coming...we'll draw another winner for December and post the winner's name Jan 2nd.

Christmas Fun Facts

In 1836, Alabama is the first state in the USA to declare Christmas a legal holiday.

In 1907, Oklahoma became the last USA state to declare Christmas a legal holiday

The first American Christmas carol was written in 1649 by a minister named John de Brebeur and is called "Jesus is Born".

Mexicans call the poinsettia "Flower of the Holy Night" - the Holy Night is the Mexican way of saying "Christmas Eve".

Births on 25 December:
W C Field (1946)Alice Cooper (1945)Princess Alexandra (1936) Paul Borget (1935)Charles Spencer Chaplin (1889)

Deaths on 25 December:
Conrad Hilton (1979)Humphrey Bogart (1957)Dorothy Wordsworth (1855)Sir Isaac Newton (1727)

The biggest selling Christmas single of all time is Bing Crosby's White Christmas.

Santa's Reindeers are Rudolph, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Donder, Blitzen, Cupid and Comet.

A Christmas Story (My all-time favorite holiday movie!)
1983, 98 minutes, Peter Billingsley, Darren McGavin, Melinda Dillon, Ian Petrella, Scott Schwartz, Tedde Moore.Movie about growing up the 1940s. Billingsley plays the young boy and we discover the simple yearnings, like wanting to own a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas.

Strange but TRUE:
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was created for Montgomery Ward department stores. (Rudolph began in 1939 when the Chicago-based Montgomery Ward company (a chain of department stores) asked one of their writers, 34-year-old Robert L. May, to come up with a Christmas story which could be given away to shoppers as a promotional gimmick. The chain had been buying and giving away coloring books for Christmas every year. To save money, they wanted to create their own booklet. It was loosely based on the Ugly Duckling.)

Anyone else want to share a Christmas Fun Fact?

Happy Holiday Shopping--and don't forget to add a Harlequin American Romance to a friend's stocking!

Marin

*Hearts of Appalachia*

For the Children (Oct 07)

In a Soldier's Arms (Feb 08)

A Coal Miner's Wife (Aug 08)

www.marinthomas.com

Confessions of a shop-a-who-me?

Malls glittering with Christmas trees. Shoppers shuttling back and forth to their cars, filling their trunks with presents. At work, avid cybershoppers clicking madly during their lunch breaks.

Yes, it’s that season. Then there are the shop-averse like me.

Is this possible in our material age? Sad (from a retailer’s point of view) but true.

I hate trying to figure out which gift to give which person. I persuaded my children, at a ridiculously tender age, that the best gift was money, which they could then spend judiciously on favorite items. They got very good at that.

As for the rest of the family, what a relief to discover I could create calendars online using digital photos. Also, that some of my relatives enjoy receiving my books. But a lot of the time, as my nieces and nephews will attest, I throw in the towel and simply give money. One size fits all.

In my defense, I will admit that I like receiving money too. That’s because I have weird taste and unless someone asks me what I want, they almost never guess right. (I like Celine Dion CDs -- in French. I ferret out other CDs in French, Italian, Spanish and Greek. Juanes and Mario Frangoulis, anyone?)

In a totally self-serving manner, I am now going to offer a suggestion to others who struggle to pick the right present. Please, please, please – give books! If you don’t know which one to select, consider gift cards to bookstores.

With money tight for many folks, book sales are suffering. Some bookstores have closed, while others increasingly focus on merchandise such as DVDs and stationery. Category romances like Harlequin American, while still popular with a core readership, have to compete against our own used-book sales.

So if you love our books, why not use some of that gift budget to share the love with your family and friends? You’ll do us authors a huge favor. And, I hope, do a favor for those who may discover something they, too, will enjoy.

The Christmas Date (AKA Inspiration Comes from Sex on the Beach)

Ha--I bet that got your attention. A journalism colleague of mine, Bobby Hawthorne, writes in his book The Radical Write that if you want to get someone's attention just start with one word: Sex.

So I did. I'll explain how it all fits in later (ha--I'm punny).

I got a card in the mail yesterday from Nick Kenig thanking me for sending him an autographed copy of The Christmas Date and for the dedication, which is, in part, to him. Nick was a photographer at Westlake High School (Austin, TX) long ago. My friends Bradley Wilson and Mark Murray raved about his photography and to this day I still use Nick's swimming photograph as an example of excellence when I teach my students.

Nick is one of the inspirations for The Christmas Date. I'd always heard tons and tons about him from Bradley and Mark. While at a journalism convention in Atlanta, the four of us went to the Hard Rock Cafe in Atlanta. The card Nick sent me reminded me the four of us had a round of Sex on the Beach shots. I was the one who suggested the type of shot since Bradley had some tradition that you had to do shots if you were a first-timer to the Hard Rock. (Atlanta remains the only time I've ever been in one.)

This was about nine years ago, and my memory has since gotten cluttered with more of life's happenings. Nick's card reminded me of that night and our talk (which I'd forgotten). That night I'd listened to his future plans and then gone home to St. Louis at the end of the JEA/NSPA convention and formed the idea for this book. I remembered that, but the night itself slipped from my mind and not from too many shots either. Since we were had convention duties later, we were quite restrained.

I'd took Nick's musings and projected them forward--the big what if as he ceased to be Nick Kenig in my mind and instead became Tyler Nichols (get the last name?). Tyler (who was originally named Nick Wilsen) then became another character in my head who demanded to have his own book.

It took a few tries, a move of location from Atlanta to Orlando, and a bunch of books (14 Americans and 1 NASCAR) in between before Tyler became the hero of my 16th novel for Harlequin American. I gave Tyler a family (I have no idea any of Nick's family, his marital status, etc.) and paired him up with the most opposite character I could find--and called her Kate Merrill, giving her my birth name for grins (I'm adopted). I also picked Kate in honor of Kate Walker and my daughter Kate, and if you read the book you'll discover a Sandra (for Sandra Marton) and a Nora (who is no way Nora Roberts). You'll also find a Wendy, one of my friends who owns a bookstore. Each name in this book is deliberately chosen, even though the characters are really nothing like (or represent) anyone whose name I used.

In fact, if I passed Nick on the street I wouldn't recognize or know him. And the guy on the cover looks more like a principal at my high school than either Mark, Nick or Bradley.

However, Nick's card was a great jog to my memory, letting me remember something I'd long buried deep and wouldn't have remembered without his jolt. The card go me thinking about the fun we all had that weekend, including visits to CNN, Centennial Olympic Park and Max Lagers. The funny thing--there were race cars in town that weekend. How's that for fate? All my books mean something to me, but this one really stands out as being special because it took so long to bring it to life and it's been so fun since it has. It's got one of my all time favorite scenes (something with candles) and I'll give you a hint that it ends with a little sex on the beach (sort of). You'll have to read it to find out what I mean.

I still keep in touch with Mark and Bradley (saw them just a few weeks ago in Philadelphia), and Bradley keeps in touch with Nick who is in graduate school in New York City. As for me, I'm plugging away writing my 20th book, now having finished #19, which I send to my editor on Monday.

Michele

Grinchy Christmas

Every year it's the same. The holiday season arrives way too soon and I'm never ready. I spend all of December running like crazy, trying to get the decorations up, the cards sent, the gifts purchased, the house winterized (we don't need that much here in Dallas, but a little). Then it's planning the Christmas dinner, visits from family, MORE shopping.

I always eat too much, don't exercise enough, gain that proverbial five pounds.

Aren't the holidays supposed to be a happy time? They were when I was a kid. I couldn't wait to break out those boxes of shiny Christmas ornaments. I loved the smell of the tree, the eggnog and hot chocolate, the breathless possibility of snow (usually not!), trying to stay awake through the hushed, incense-laden midnight Mass.

Alas, for me the holidays are more about stress than pleasure, and it shouldn't be that way. So this year I have an evil plan. I am leaving town for the entire month of December to live at the beach. I am going to ignore the holidays completely and spend my days lazing on my deck looking out over the ocean with a margarita in one hand and escapist literature (a.k.a. a romance novel) in the other. (I just read TEXAN FOR THE HOLIDAYS by Victoria Chancellor--fun book!)

Well, okay, already the plan has problems. I've started to receive holiday cards, and I realized I have to SEND cards. Then there are those cans of popcorn that just arrived, which I'd planned to give as gifts. Am I going to just let them sit? And what about outdoor lights? My block has won the neighborhood decorating competition two years in a row. I can't let my neighbors down. One final glitch--my family knows where to find me.

Obviously I can't escape after all. But maybe, just maybe, I can reach back to my childhood for those feelings of excitement and anticipation and joy, and ditch the stress. This year it's not all going to get done ... and I'm okay with that. So if you don't get a card from me, rest assured I'm still thinking of you ... while I'm lying on the beach.

P.S. As I write this, I have no running water and plumbers are digging up my back yard. I am leaving for a MONTH in two days and I can't do laundry or wash dishes. Is it Happy Hour yet?

Kara Lennox

Raising a Romantic Hero

As a writer, I get really attached to the men and women I create. Of course, they're nothing compared to the (eventual) man and woman I'm raising. My son is 6 and my daughter's 4, and I love them both dearly. It means a lot to me that my son has seen his dad be courteous to others and even help with the laundry, because hopefully he won't ever feel that it's un-masculine to do those things himself. (And to his future wife, you're welcome.)

What really cracks me up about my son is how he's a budding romantic but would rather suffer blood and gore than admit it. (Whenever there's a playground cry of, "I'm bleeding!" my son's response is, "I wanna see." And when he himself is wounded, he wants to show all his guy friends. He explained it to me once as, "We're boys, Mommy. We like gross stuff.") According to my son's reaction to one of my covers, my BOOKS are gross stuff. He calls them Mommy's kissing stories and makes gagging sounds.

And yet he was seriously off his game during the last soccer match of the fall because he kept sighing over the little blond girl on the opposing team. And when we recently rented the animated feature Happily n'Ever After (in which Cinderella's love for the prince blinds her to the attributes of a kitchen boy), my six year old wisely declares, "She should just decide to be with Rick. He REALLY loves her." My son even managed not to gag at the end when Rick and Cindy finally got their kiss.

It makes a mom so proud.