Does anyone remember that ad campaign for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (mmmm, peanut butter cups) about how there’s “more than one way to eat a Reese’s?” Well, it never occurred to me that there’s more than one way to read a book. I assumed most readers followed a similar pattern to mine…pick the book up, start at that opening first paragraph and read (often compulsively and through the night!) until I hit the last page, then sigh in satisfaction as I close the covers and reach for the lamp.
Yet there seems to be—gasp—an epidemic of people who do nearly the opposite! Imagine my surprise when I learned that my sister, best friend and favorite aunt all read the last chapter first. This blows my mind. “But doesn’t that spoil the ending? Aren’t you taking it all out of context? It probably makes more sense when you understand…” Yet these people hold firm that if they hate the way it ends or there’s an unhappy resolution, they don’t want to waste their time reading the 300 pages that come before.
What about you guys? Do you like the safety of knowing how a book or movie ends before you spend time or money on it? Do you trail the internet looking for spoilers on your favorite television shows, or when someone starts to tell you the latest rumor of who breaks up with whom on Grey’s Anatomy, do you cover your ears?
I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. I love romance novels because 99.99% of the time, the hero and heroine resolve their differences and find happiness together, so in a way, I do know the end. But I like taking the journey with them instead of “cheating” and looking at the map ahead of time. Of course, my husband would tell you I wouldn’t get in half as much trouble as I do if I bothered to read maps, but that’s another story…
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
New York, New York
Hi guys,
I'm off to the Big Apple - home of Times Square, the Statue of Liberty and knock-off purses. I've been up to my neck in deadlines, but I managed to finish everything yesterday. Yeah! And now I'm ready to go to the PASIC (RWA's Published Authors' Special Interest Chapter) conference. It'll be a wonderful opportunity to meet new people, learn some great stuff about the publishing industry, and see a couple of Broadway shows. What better way to spend a long weekend? So until later - right now, I'm heading downstairs to pack. Ann
I'm off to the Big Apple - home of Times Square, the Statue of Liberty and knock-off purses. I've been up to my neck in deadlines, but I managed to finish everything yesterday. Yeah! And now I'm ready to go to the PASIC (RWA's Published Authors' Special Interest Chapter) conference. It'll be a wonderful opportunity to meet new people, learn some great stuff about the publishing industry, and see a couple of Broadway shows. What better way to spend a long weekend? So until later - right now, I'm heading downstairs to pack. Ann
Monday, March 26, 2007
Spring has sprung
I love spring. Here in the Seattle area, spring means vivid and abundant color. Cherry and magnolia trees, forsythia, tulips, daffodils, and a host of other flowers—we have them all in our yard. But while I love the beauty, I don’t enjoy pulling weeds and keeping the plants healthy and producing.
I’m what you call an armchair garden lover. I appreciate the beauty and like to sit outside and enjoy it, but I don’t do much of the upkeep. If I lived alone I’d hire a gardener, even if it is expensive. Fortunately, my husband loves to putz around in garden as often as possible. Weather permitting, he’s out there pulling weeds, digging, planting, mulching. All organically. Yep, he’s one of those.
Out of chicken wire he made a compost bin where we dump our non-meat, non-dairy food waste. It’s out back, on the side of the house, and for some reason, doesn’t smell at all. Every so often he turns the decomposing goop with a shovel. When it decomposes enough, he spreads it over the garden to enrich the soil. This year he and a friend drove to a farm and picked up a truckload of manure. Now that smelled. I stayed inside that day! But I’ll reap the rewards when the raspberry and blueberry bushes produce huge crops.
I’m thinking that writing is a lot like tending a garden. We writers have our own brain compost piles, that creative well within. We’re always tossing in tidbits—overheard snippets of conversation, intriguing newspaper stories, or anything that catches our interest. The mixture sits in our head awhile, and now and then we stir it a bit, thinking, I wonder whether… What would happen if? And voilá—a story is born.
As for the manure… Well, I’ll leave you to draw your own analogies.
Happy spring, everyone.
Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net
I’m what you call an armchair garden lover. I appreciate the beauty and like to sit outside and enjoy it, but I don’t do much of the upkeep. If I lived alone I’d hire a gardener, even if it is expensive. Fortunately, my husband loves to putz around in garden as often as possible. Weather permitting, he’s out there pulling weeds, digging, planting, mulching. All organically. Yep, he’s one of those.
Out of chicken wire he made a compost bin where we dump our non-meat, non-dairy food waste. It’s out back, on the side of the house, and for some reason, doesn’t smell at all. Every so often he turns the decomposing goop with a shovel. When it decomposes enough, he spreads it over the garden to enrich the soil. This year he and a friend drove to a farm and picked up a truckload of manure. Now that smelled. I stayed inside that day! But I’ll reap the rewards when the raspberry and blueberry bushes produce huge crops.
I’m thinking that writing is a lot like tending a garden. We writers have our own brain compost piles, that creative well within. We’re always tossing in tidbits—overheard snippets of conversation, intriguing newspaper stories, or anything that catches our interest. The mixture sits in our head awhile, and now and then we stir it a bit, thinking, I wonder whether… What would happen if? And voilá—a story is born.
As for the manure… Well, I’ll leave you to draw your own analogies.
Happy spring, everyone.
Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net
Sunday, March 25, 2007
What's upcoming????
I just heard from my editor last week about my release schedule for 2007 & the first part of 2008.
Thought this would be a good time for the HAR authors to chime in and comment on what you can be looking forward to for the rest of 2007. I know I'm always curious as to when things are coming out, and eharlequin only gives you a few months in advance. Now you'll be able to access the archive if you forget when that next book by your favorite author is out.
Here's mine:
Nine Months' Notice (4 stars from RT), out April 2007 (so look for it next month)! This ends the American Beauties miniseries.
Hart's Victory, my NASCAR continuity book, out in November 2007.
The Christmas Date (formerly titled Picture Perfect), a Harlequin American out in December 2007.
Michele Dunaway
Thought this would be a good time for the HAR authors to chime in and comment on what you can be looking forward to for the rest of 2007. I know I'm always curious as to when things are coming out, and eharlequin only gives you a few months in advance. Now you'll be able to access the archive if you forget when that next book by your favorite author is out.
Here's mine:
Nine Months' Notice (4 stars from RT), out April 2007 (so look for it next month)! This ends the American Beauties miniseries.
Hart's Victory, my NASCAR continuity book, out in November 2007.
The Christmas Date (formerly titled Picture Perfect), a Harlequin American out in December 2007.
Michele Dunaway
Thursday, March 22, 2007
TEACHING AND WRITING AND BEARS, OH, MY
The hero of A Small-Town Girl is Cary Hudson. Cary’s a high school teacher…Algebra to be exact.
I had a lot of fun imagining his life at Lane’s End High because for ten years, I taught school, too. And, if I’m going to be completely honest, I miss the friendships I made, and the sense of community a faculty has more than I miss being around twelve year olds. Hmm…maybe because I have two teenagers at home?
I seem to run into a lot of writers who are former teachers. I stopped teaching because we got transferred to Ohio and my husband encouraged me to finally give writing a try. Usually, I never think about the days of sweaty classrooms or ‘morning work’. But every now and then, a memory surfaces, and I have to smile.
Yesterday was one of those days. My son was talking about taking drivers ed in a trailer and how thin the walls were—a Jazzersize class was going on next door.
For two years, I taught in a mountain school in Colorado, in a trailer. We’d just been transferred to the Denver area from Dallas, and I was extremely lucky to get a job. But what a change that school was! No longer was I teaching executives’ kids in suburban Dallas…now I was teaching rancher’s kids, country kids…kids who did chores at six in the morning before coming to school. I learned a lot about life from them, and I’m sure they got a laugh out of me…the city girl from Texas who wore heels and didn’t know a thing about snowstorms, cattle ranches…or bears.
Yep, one day, there I was, teaching spelling, when I noticed not a one of them was paying a bit of attention to me. They were all looking out the window. Next, I got a message on the intercom, telling me not to let any kids out of the trailer—there was a bear on the playground.
I ran to the window, and finally noticed what my twenty-five kids had already seen—a big black bear, just twenty feet away, wandering around.
I had never read anything about bears in the teaching manuals. Doing my best, I swallowed my fear and told everyone to REMAIN CALM.
And that’s when it hit me…they knew that bear. He’d been in a couple of the kids’ trashcans just the week before. He visited the school a few times a year. I was the only one freaking out. Those fifth graders started laughing at me. Finally, I started laughing, too. Spelling went away and we spent the next hour sitting on desks and watching the bear. The kids told me stories about his antics and I learned to appreciate being in a mountain school.
Any other teachers or former teachers who remember little stories like that? When the lesson plans go out the window and life takes over? Here’s to all of us having little experiences that are new and different and perfectly memorable.
I had a lot of fun imagining his life at Lane’s End High because for ten years, I taught school, too. And, if I’m going to be completely honest, I miss the friendships I made, and the sense of community a faculty has more than I miss being around twelve year olds. Hmm…maybe because I have two teenagers at home?
I seem to run into a lot of writers who are former teachers. I stopped teaching because we got transferred to Ohio and my husband encouraged me to finally give writing a try. Usually, I never think about the days of sweaty classrooms or ‘morning work’. But every now and then, a memory surfaces, and I have to smile.
Yesterday was one of those days. My son was talking about taking drivers ed in a trailer and how thin the walls were—a Jazzersize class was going on next door.
For two years, I taught in a mountain school in Colorado, in a trailer. We’d just been transferred to the Denver area from Dallas, and I was extremely lucky to get a job. But what a change that school was! No longer was I teaching executives’ kids in suburban Dallas…now I was teaching rancher’s kids, country kids…kids who did chores at six in the morning before coming to school. I learned a lot about life from them, and I’m sure they got a laugh out of me…the city girl from Texas who wore heels and didn’t know a thing about snowstorms, cattle ranches…or bears.
Yep, one day, there I was, teaching spelling, when I noticed not a one of them was paying a bit of attention to me. They were all looking out the window. Next, I got a message on the intercom, telling me not to let any kids out of the trailer—there was a bear on the playground.
I ran to the window, and finally noticed what my twenty-five kids had already seen—a big black bear, just twenty feet away, wandering around.
I had never read anything about bears in the teaching manuals. Doing my best, I swallowed my fear and told everyone to REMAIN CALM.
And that’s when it hit me…they knew that bear. He’d been in a couple of the kids’ trashcans just the week before. He visited the school a few times a year. I was the only one freaking out. Those fifth graders started laughing at me. Finally, I started laughing, too. Spelling went away and we spent the next hour sitting on desks and watching the bear. The kids told me stories about his antics and I learned to appreciate being in a mountain school.
Any other teachers or former teachers who remember little stories like that? When the lesson plans go out the window and life takes over? Here’s to all of us having little experiences that are new and different and perfectly memorable.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Welcome, Spring!
Hello on this first day of Spring, 2007. In Dallas it is rather dreary but warm today. The birds are chirping and the squirrels are searching and I'm sneezing. Well, the pollen count is rather high down here in Texas. Since I grew up in a colder climate, I'm actually pretty glad to see Spring right now, rather than a few months away.
The weather often reminds me that I would rather be outdoors than sitting at my desk, writing my new proposals for "Brody's Crossing," my new series for Harlequin American Romance which begins in July. I've tried to take my laptop outside, but then the dog wants to play ball, and I see some weeds that need to be pulled, and the little fountain needs water. On and on. I believe that's called writing avoidance. I'm rather good at it! Fortunately, once I do get focused, I'm a fairly fast writer, so I try to make up some of the time I should have spent writing.
I'm very excited about my new stories. They are about characters I've introduced in the first two books - the brother of the hero from the first book, and the childhood best friend of the hero in the second book. I also gave my new Texas town a female mayor. I've tried to set up defunct businesses like we see in most small towns - motels that have failed, an empty train station, former small businesses that have gone away once a megastore moves in. My mayor is on a quest to revitalize the town, so I gave her plenty of places to work her magic. And, for me, plenty of opportunities for new characters to come to town. For example, the heroine in the third book that I'm working on right now is going to fix up the Sweet Dreams Motel in a retro style that will be a lot of fun to research. There are several motels in Texas already done this way. And, of course, since I'm of "a certain age," I remember the actual style when it wasn't retro!
So, happy springtime, everyone, and happy writing, whether you are currently looking out your window at storms, snow, sunshine, or clouds.
Victoria
The weather often reminds me that I would rather be outdoors than sitting at my desk, writing my new proposals for "Brody's Crossing," my new series for Harlequin American Romance which begins in July. I've tried to take my laptop outside, but then the dog wants to play ball, and I see some weeds that need to be pulled, and the little fountain needs water. On and on. I believe that's called writing avoidance. I'm rather good at it! Fortunately, once I do get focused, I'm a fairly fast writer, so I try to make up some of the time I should have spent writing.
I'm very excited about my new stories. They are about characters I've introduced in the first two books - the brother of the hero from the first book, and the childhood best friend of the hero in the second book. I also gave my new Texas town a female mayor. I've tried to set up defunct businesses like we see in most small towns - motels that have failed, an empty train station, former small businesses that have gone away once a megastore moves in. My mayor is on a quest to revitalize the town, so I gave her plenty of places to work her magic. And, for me, plenty of opportunities for new characters to come to town. For example, the heroine in the third book that I'm working on right now is going to fix up the Sweet Dreams Motel in a retro style that will be a lot of fun to research. There are several motels in Texas already done this way. And, of course, since I'm of "a certain age," I remember the actual style when it wasn't retro!
So, happy springtime, everyone, and happy writing, whether you are currently looking out your window at storms, snow, sunshine, or clouds.
Victoria
Monday, March 19, 2007
When Funny Things Happen at Sober Moments
It was a sober moment. My husband was outside my car, standing in the pouring rain, motioning me closer to the curb. After maneuvering back and forth between two parked cars, I finally got the job done. I grabbed my umbrella. Not just any umbrella. (Warming: I am about to go off on a brief tangent.)This baby is a beaut. I first saw her in a SkyMall magazine, when I was flying home from a visit with my parents. I live in Seattle, where it rains all winter long, and this big ol’ umbrella called to me. I’ve never bought a thing from an airplane magazine, and I stuffed the thing into the seat pocket. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that umbrella. Black, with a row of red silk roses sewn round the rim. Closed it looks like a bouquet. Open, it’s an umbrella rimmed with roses. Pretty! I was in love, and darned if I didn’t slide the magazine back out of the pocket and stash it in my purse.
The next morning I went online and ordered. Ten days later she arrived (yes, I have given her a sex and a name—female, Rosie.) To my surprise, those roses aren’t silk at all. They’re made of some nameless red fabric and stitched into the rim by their plastic, two-inch-long stems. The funkiest thing you ever saw! Not so beautiful as the picture; in fact kinda ugly. But she’s still ultra cool, and I’m not the only one who believes this. Everywhere I carry Rosie, I get comments from women who want one just like her. Who’d have thought?
Anyway, as soon as I parked the car nice and close to the curb, I grabbed Rosie, whom I keep in the back seat of my car. When I pulled her into the front seat I accidentally hit the latch. She popped open. Fully open she’s way too big for my car. I couldn’t even open her all the way. I tried to close her back up to her trim little self, but for some reason that didn’t work, either. I tried twice without any luck. Then I realized how funny the whole thing was. Well, I got the giggles. There I was, in the front seat of my Prius, laughing hysterically and trying to control my rebellious umbrella, while my husband got wetter by the second. Hey, he could’ve stayed dry if only he’d grabbed Rosie for himself. But for some reason he won’t touch her.
At last I closed the thing and exited the car. My husband just shook his head. But I kept on laughing.
Next time he rides in my car he’ll bring his own umbrella.
Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net
The next morning I went online and ordered. Ten days later she arrived (yes, I have given her a sex and a name—female, Rosie.) To my surprise, those roses aren’t silk at all. They’re made of some nameless red fabric and stitched into the rim by their plastic, two-inch-long stems. The funkiest thing you ever saw! Not so beautiful as the picture; in fact kinda ugly. But she’s still ultra cool, and I’m not the only one who believes this. Everywhere I carry Rosie, I get comments from women who want one just like her. Who’d have thought?
Anyway, as soon as I parked the car nice and close to the curb, I grabbed Rosie, whom I keep in the back seat of my car. When I pulled her into the front seat I accidentally hit the latch. She popped open. Fully open she’s way too big for my car. I couldn’t even open her all the way. I tried to close her back up to her trim little self, but for some reason that didn’t work, either. I tried twice without any luck. Then I realized how funny the whole thing was. Well, I got the giggles. There I was, in the front seat of my Prius, laughing hysterically and trying to control my rebellious umbrella, while my husband got wetter by the second. Hey, he could’ve stayed dry if only he’d grabbed Rosie for himself. But for some reason he won’t touch her.
At last I closed the thing and exited the car. My husband just shook his head. But I kept on laughing.
Next time he rides in my car he’ll bring his own umbrella.
Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net
Sunday, March 18, 2007
First Sale!!!!
The Harlequin American Romance authors are delighted to announce that one lucky lady got the call from Kathleen Scheibling. Joining the line with a 2008 release is author Megan Kelly, a resident of Illinois and member of the Missouri RWA chapter (www.morwa.org). And yes, for those of you curious, the book was sold on complete! Congrats, Megan.
Hi, I’m a brand new Harlequin American author, Megan Kelly. So new, in fact, we haven’t decided on a title for my book yet! However, it’s due on the shelves next spring, so I’ll keep you posted. I’ve been writing for quite a few years, striving to improve my work in hopes of finding a home with Harlequin.
I read my first Harlequin Romance at thirteen and fell in love with the stories. I started writing four years later, but it wasn’t until I’d married and had two children that I met one of my favorite authors, Kathleen Korbel (aka thriller writer Eileen Dreyer) and discovered RWA. Without the support of my local chapter, I’d still be struggling with my first manuscript.
I’ve been very lucky to have my mss recognized in RWA chapter contests, winning the Maggie and the Molly, and finaling in the Emily and the 1st Impressions, each with different works.
My upcoming release—how exciting that sounds!—is a story of unlikely lovers vying for the CEO position of a major Chicago firm. Sort of Romeo and Juliet meets “The Apprentice.” LOL
I want to thank Michele Dunaway for all her advice and kindness over the years and for this opportunity to say hi.
Megan
Hi, I’m a brand new Harlequin American author, Megan Kelly. So new, in fact, we haven’t decided on a title for my book yet! However, it’s due on the shelves next spring, so I’ll keep you posted. I’ve been writing for quite a few years, striving to improve my work in hopes of finding a home with Harlequin.
I read my first Harlequin Romance at thirteen and fell in love with the stories. I started writing four years later, but it wasn’t until I’d married and had two children that I met one of my favorite authors, Kathleen Korbel (aka thriller writer Eileen Dreyer) and discovered RWA. Without the support of my local chapter, I’d still be struggling with my first manuscript.
I’ve been very lucky to have my mss recognized in RWA chapter contests, winning the Maggie and the Molly, and finaling in the Emily and the 1st Impressions, each with different works.
My upcoming release—how exciting that sounds!—is a story of unlikely lovers vying for the CEO position of a major Chicago firm. Sort of Romeo and Juliet meets “The Apprentice.” LOL
I want to thank Michele Dunaway for all her advice and kindness over the years and for this opportunity to say hi.
Megan
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Aren't I the lucky one!
Seventeen's my favorite number, I'm blogging on dear old St. Paddy's Day and, sure and y'know, I'm Irish, to boot! At least three-eighths, by the family's last reckoning.
The funny thing is, though, on St. Patrick's Day that fraction turns to 100 proof... Uh, I mean 100 percent. (Don't blame me. I was led astray by a recent blogging here about moonshine. Nothing my ancestors would know anything about!)
Anyhow...
This all has gotten me thinking again about a story idea I have in mind, one I hope will hit the shelves some day. It's about a heroine from a 100-percent Irish family, a large loving group of eccentrics, including one close relative who's considered "more Irish than the Irish" even when it's not the family's favorite holiday.
Don't you have friends and relations like that, too? People who suddenly become more of...whatever they need to be when the occasion arises? The life of the party. The master of ceremonies. Santa Claus in a red suit or the Easter bunny if the situation demands it. They'd convert to a new religion if it would get them more gifts for the holidays.
I meet a heckuva of a lot of Irishmen on March 17th who haven't got a drop of Irish blood in them. (Whiskey's another story, however.)
But what the hey, I'm not greedy. I don't drink whiskey, so there's plenty to go around.
And believe it or not, it's not all about the booze! There's just something magical about being an Irishman in tribute to St. Patrick.
So if those friends or relatives like to sign on as honorary members for the day—or if you've a mind to give it a whirl, yourself, now—I say, have at it.
Or, maybe I should I say, the luck o' the Irish to you!
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
The funny thing is, though, on St. Patrick's Day that fraction turns to 100 proof... Uh, I mean 100 percent. (Don't blame me. I was led astray by a recent blogging here about moonshine. Nothing my ancestors would know anything about!)
Anyhow...
This all has gotten me thinking again about a story idea I have in mind, one I hope will hit the shelves some day. It's about a heroine from a 100-percent Irish family, a large loving group of eccentrics, including one close relative who's considered "more Irish than the Irish" even when it's not the family's favorite holiday.
Don't you have friends and relations like that, too? People who suddenly become more of...whatever they need to be when the occasion arises? The life of the party. The master of ceremonies. Santa Claus in a red suit or the Easter bunny if the situation demands it. They'd convert to a new religion if it would get them more gifts for the holidays.
I meet a heckuva of a lot of Irishmen on March 17th who haven't got a drop of Irish blood in them. (Whiskey's another story, however.)
But what the hey, I'm not greedy. I don't drink whiskey, so there's plenty to go around.
And believe it or not, it's not all about the booze! There's just something magical about being an Irishman in tribute to St. Patrick.
So if those friends or relatives like to sign on as honorary members for the day—or if you've a mind to give it a whirl, yourself, now—I say, have at it.
Or, maybe I should I say, the luck o' the Irish to you!
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
Friday, March 16, 2007
Fact or Fiction
Are readers demanding more "reality" in their fiction these days? I think so.
And it's not the suspense, mystery or thriller novels I'm referring to--it's straight up romance. What does that mean for the romance writer? Research. And lots of it.
Today's romance heroes and heroines are DEA agents, firefighters, cops, soldiers, country western singers and a slew of other occupations, each demanding factual data to support their character. I've done more research for the book I'm working on right now, FOR THE CHILDREN (Oct 07) the first book in my new series "Heart of Appalachia" than I have in all my other books combined. Not only was I faced with the challenge of researching an area of the country I've never lived in or visited for any length of time, but the occupation of my heroine was something I knew zip about--bootlegging. Yes, my heroine has her own still and makes moonshine
It's easy for me to lose myself in the factual details and often my CP will remind me that first and foremost the story is about two people falling in love. I sometimes struggle with how much is too much or not enough when it comes to adding tidbits of truth and reality to my stories.
Opinions anyone? How much factual information do you like in your romances?
Happy reading!
Marin
www.marinthomas.com
And it's not the suspense, mystery or thriller novels I'm referring to--it's straight up romance. What does that mean for the romance writer? Research. And lots of it.
Today's romance heroes and heroines are DEA agents, firefighters, cops, soldiers, country western singers and a slew of other occupations, each demanding factual data to support their character. I've done more research for the book I'm working on right now, FOR THE CHILDREN (Oct 07) the first book in my new series "Heart of Appalachia" than I have in all my other books combined. Not only was I faced with the challenge of researching an area of the country I've never lived in or visited for any length of time, but the occupation of my heroine was something I knew zip about--bootlegging. Yes, my heroine has her own still and makes moonshine
It's easy for me to lose myself in the factual details and often my CP will remind me that first and foremost the story is about two people falling in love. I sometimes struggle with how much is too much or not enough when it comes to adding tidbits of truth and reality to my stories.
Opinions anyone? How much factual information do you like in your romances?
Happy reading!
Marin
www.marinthomas.com
Thursday, March 15, 2007
The voice on the phone
When I first started sending out manuscripts in the hopes of selling one, I ran to the mailbox eagerly each day. Okay, I was about twelve, but I think at any age a writer nurtures dreams and fantasies of that wonderful letter of acceptance.
Well, as a beginner, I did receive a few. A small essay published in the readers’ section of a teen magazine. A poem here. A book review there.
But as I grew up, I discovered that mostly what comes in the mail are rejections. Although I’ve sold 80 books over the past 25 years, my rejections are probably (no exaggeration) ten times that many. I could paper my two-story house if I’d saved them all.
Creative people are really good at finding ways to torture ourselves. (Maybe my story is totally off-base … I didn’t put in enough sexual tension …it can’t possibly compare to all those wonderful books I see at the store.) Rejection hurts because it makes us doubt ourselves. And that gets old fast.
What never gets old is the voice of an editor on the phone saying, “I love your book. I want to buy it.”
There are variations, especially in an ongoing editor-author relationship. Sometimes it’s more along the lines of, “It’s a go. Now for the revisions…” Or, “This works fine. But about those contract terms…”
But buried inside is the happy news. There’s going to be a beautiful book – or two or three -- with your name on it.
I’m pleased to report that last week I once again heard a voice on the phone. For Harlequin American, my editor bought a trilogy about a group of neighbors who could give Desperate Housewives a run for their money. It’s going to be fun to write and, I hope, fun to read when it comes out in 2008.
I’ve earned another chance to touch readers’ hearts. What more could an author ask?
Well, as a beginner, I did receive a few. A small essay published in the readers’ section of a teen magazine. A poem here. A book review there.
But as I grew up, I discovered that mostly what comes in the mail are rejections. Although I’ve sold 80 books over the past 25 years, my rejections are probably (no exaggeration) ten times that many. I could paper my two-story house if I’d saved them all.
Creative people are really good at finding ways to torture ourselves. (Maybe my story is totally off-base … I didn’t put in enough sexual tension …it can’t possibly compare to all those wonderful books I see at the store.) Rejection hurts because it makes us doubt ourselves. And that gets old fast.
What never gets old is the voice of an editor on the phone saying, “I love your book. I want to buy it.”
There are variations, especially in an ongoing editor-author relationship. Sometimes it’s more along the lines of, “It’s a go. Now for the revisions…” Or, “This works fine. But about those contract terms…”
But buried inside is the happy news. There’s going to be a beautiful book – or two or three -- with your name on it.
I’m pleased to report that last week I once again heard a voice on the phone. For Harlequin American, my editor bought a trilogy about a group of neighbors who could give Desperate Housewives a run for their money. It’s going to be fun to write and, I hope, fun to read when it comes out in 2008.
I’ve earned another chance to touch readers’ hearts. What more could an author ask?
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Happy International Pi Day!!!
Ahh . . . Nothing quite says fun like a double trip to the dentist--not!! LOL!! Alas, that's my day's fate. Son #1 has a cleaning scheduled in the morning, and Son #2 has a couple cavities to be filled in the afternoon.
I so envy friends who are able to hammer out a day's pages in fifteen-minute snippets, but it seems like more and more I need loads of uninterrupted time to write. Not that I'll even spend it all writing, just that emotionally, if I know I've got to look presentable and chat with school ladies and the dental office receptionist, I figure what's the point of even trying to write? If there are any armchair psychiatrists lurking out there, why do I suffer from this affliction??
In fun happenings, my new website's up and running! (lauramariealtom.com)After years of working through a middleman, I'm proud to say I did this one myself!! Funny how no one in the family views my writing as any big deal, other than that if I'm needing the computer during *myspace* time, I'm a huge imposition!! That said, everyone wanted to have a say in what pics of them went up. In the end, I went with the pics I like best, but for the record, both sons wanted *cooler* fare. Daughter was happy, and Hubby was happy once I put his Cozumel pic back up, which apparently he really likes--who knew?? LOL!!
Today is International Pi Day!!! How do I know? I spent a large portion of last night coloring a Pi Day poster. Good thing I write instead of doing math, because even after studying this fact for three hours, I still don't get it!! What I do get, is that it's a great excuse to eat pie, which I'm always up for!! LOL!!
I so envy friends who are able to hammer out a day's pages in fifteen-minute snippets, but it seems like more and more I need loads of uninterrupted time to write. Not that I'll even spend it all writing, just that emotionally, if I know I've got to look presentable and chat with school ladies and the dental office receptionist, I figure what's the point of even trying to write? If there are any armchair psychiatrists lurking out there, why do I suffer from this affliction??
In fun happenings, my new website's up and running! (lauramariealtom.com)After years of working through a middleman, I'm proud to say I did this one myself!! Funny how no one in the family views my writing as any big deal, other than that if I'm needing the computer during *myspace* time, I'm a huge imposition!! That said, everyone wanted to have a say in what pics of them went up. In the end, I went with the pics I like best, but for the record, both sons wanted *cooler* fare. Daughter was happy, and Hubby was happy once I put his Cozumel pic back up, which apparently he really likes--who knew?? LOL!!
Today is International Pi Day!!! How do I know? I spent a large portion of last night coloring a Pi Day poster. Good thing I write instead of doing math, because even after studying this fact for three hours, I still don't get it!! What I do get, is that it's a great excuse to eat pie, which I'm always up for!! LOL!!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Guys simply don't get it
Hi,
I just got back from visiting my friend Geri Krotow (another Everlasting Love author) in Belgium. We had a ball - it was true outlet shopping at its best. Skip the cathedrals - okay, I'll confess, we did visit the one in Ghent on our way to the 40% off Flemish tapestry shop. Bypass the art museums - there was a Van Gogh in that same cathedral. One of the monks in the painting was wearing the same shoes I was - amend that to the same type of shoes. I don't think mine are three centuries old.
The Eiffel Tower - I've already see it. Ditto for the Mannequin Pis in Brussels. Give me the Le Cruset factory with its 75% off pots and pans. Or the Villeroy and Bock outlet in Mettlach, Germany where we rolled up our sleeves and battled the hausfraus for fine china at 4 Euro a plate.
And did I mention the bazaar in Kaiserslautern with over 200 vendors from all over Europe. It was a true black belt shoppers idea of Nirvana. Guys simply don't get it.
So here's to gourmet chocolate, German wine, Belgian beer and good friends. Ann
I just got back from visiting my friend Geri Krotow (another Everlasting Love author) in Belgium. We had a ball - it was true outlet shopping at its best. Skip the cathedrals - okay, I'll confess, we did visit the one in Ghent on our way to the 40% off Flemish tapestry shop. Bypass the art museums - there was a Van Gogh in that same cathedral. One of the monks in the painting was wearing the same shoes I was - amend that to the same type of shoes. I don't think mine are three centuries old.
The Eiffel Tower - I've already see it. Ditto for the Mannequin Pis in Brussels. Give me the Le Cruset factory with its 75% off pots and pans. Or the Villeroy and Bock outlet in Mettlach, Germany where we rolled up our sleeves and battled the hausfraus for fine china at 4 Euro a plate.
And did I mention the bazaar in Kaiserslautern with over 200 vendors from all over Europe. It was a true black belt shoppers idea of Nirvana. Guys simply don't get it.
So here's to gourmet chocolate, German wine, Belgian beer and good friends. Ann
Monday, March 12, 2007
March Madness
March is one of my favorite months. First, spring finally arrives in Missouri. I'm one of the SAD people--I really do get the seasonal affective disorder. I need sun and lots of brightness, and the gloom of winter does me in. By the time March arrives, I'm ready.
Second, March means that spring sports begin. NASCAR. Baseball. Even better, my plants start breaking through and the buds hit the trees. I'm writing this while on spring break (hooray)!
Third, St. Patrick's Day, my favorite holiday. My daughter's and my best friend's birthday (same day--30 years apart) both follow on the 18th. This year I'm also traveling to NYC at the end of the month.
So far, March has been good to me. I've learned I get a tax refund. I've reached all my writing deadlines. I've been the lucky person updating the blog and sharing all the news about all the great sales to the Harlequin American line. I have a book out in April, and I'm getting ready for that.
I've also learned that I just sold another book--another Harlequin NASCAR series continuity. Out of Line will be a May 2008 release.
So I'm quite upbeat and excited. I love sharing good news, and there's a lot of it! (Congrats to Jacqueline Diamond on a 3-book sale!) After March 17, I'll post all the details about the first saler to the line.
So in this season of March Madness, let me take a minute to thank you, the reader. You are our fans, cheering us on to victory. You're there when we lose some and there when we win some. You make us shine. Thank you.
Second, March means that spring sports begin. NASCAR. Baseball. Even better, my plants start breaking through and the buds hit the trees. I'm writing this while on spring break (hooray)!
Third, St. Patrick's Day, my favorite holiday. My daughter's and my best friend's birthday (same day--30 years apart) both follow on the 18th. This year I'm also traveling to NYC at the end of the month.
So far, March has been good to me. I've learned I get a tax refund. I've reached all my writing deadlines. I've been the lucky person updating the blog and sharing all the news about all the great sales to the Harlequin American line. I have a book out in April, and I'm getting ready for that.
I've also learned that I just sold another book--another Harlequin NASCAR series continuity. Out of Line will be a May 2008 release.
So I'm quite upbeat and excited. I love sharing good news, and there's a lot of it! (Congrats to Jacqueline Diamond on a 3-book sale!) After March 17, I'll post all the details about the first saler to the line.
So in this season of March Madness, let me take a minute to thank you, the reader. You are our fans, cheering us on to victory. You're there when we lose some and there when we win some. You make us shine. Thank you.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Better Late Than Never!
I'm posting late because I've been out of town, in sunny (but freezing) Virginia Beach. I had planned to post from the airport early this morning, but I couldn't find a hot spot and I ran out of time.
I wish I could say I'd been in VB on a book tour, or at least doing booksignings or workshops or researching a location. But the fact is I was being a bum. Rob, my husband, was attending EpiCon, a conference for e-publishers and writers. (He is the publisher of www.BooksForABuck.com.) But I was just along for the ride, mooching his beachfront hotel room.
I'd been writing frantically on deadline for the past few weeks, so it was nice to have a few days with no agenda. I could have written if I wanted (since I brought my teeny-tiny computer), but mostly I chose to walk (on the cold beach) and birdwatch. I added five, possibly six new birds to my list. (The sixth I spotted at the airport, some kind of duck. I'll have to check the field guide to see if I can make a definitive I.D.)
It's nice to do nothing. I became a writer to get away from the overscheduled, stressful life, but lately my life has been nuts.
Downtime is essential to my writer's brain. If I don't take breaks occasionally, my subconscious rebels and refuses to give me anything. I run out of ideas and find it difficult to write. Doing nothing recharges the batteries. So does the change of scenery.
So that means I should have a new book plotted out in my head by now, eh? Well, it doesn't work quite that well. But I do feel eager to get back to my computer and start something new.
Happy Reading to You,
Kara
I wish I could say I'd been in VB on a book tour, or at least doing booksignings or workshops or researching a location. But the fact is I was being a bum. Rob, my husband, was attending EpiCon, a conference for e-publishers and writers. (He is the publisher of www.BooksForABuck.com.) But I was just along for the ride, mooching his beachfront hotel room.
I'd been writing frantically on deadline for the past few weeks, so it was nice to have a few days with no agenda. I could have written if I wanted (since I brought my teeny-tiny computer), but mostly I chose to walk (on the cold beach) and birdwatch. I added five, possibly six new birds to my list. (The sixth I spotted at the airport, some kind of duck. I'll have to check the field guide to see if I can make a definitive I.D.)
It's nice to do nothing. I became a writer to get away from the overscheduled, stressful life, but lately my life has been nuts.
Downtime is essential to my writer's brain. If I don't take breaks occasionally, my subconscious rebels and refuses to give me anything. I run out of ideas and find it difficult to write. Doing nothing recharges the batteries. So does the change of scenery.
So that means I should have a new book plotted out in my head by now, eh? Well, it doesn't work quite that well. But I do feel eager to get back to my computer and start something new.
Happy Reading to You,
Kara
Friday, March 09, 2007
Surprise Blog--Lisa Childs
Harlequin American Romance is acquiring. You heard Kathleen say it in her post! This line is happening. You'll see books from established authors new to the line (Lisa Childs, Roxann Delaney, Cathy McDavid, Tanya Michaes) in 2007-2008 and you'll see a new, first sale author (we'll post more on her after March 17). You'll see those authors being added to this blog on a permanent basis in the upcoming months.
Right now, here's Lisa Childs, and I'll turn it over to her!
Hi, I’m Lisa Childs. I’ve written for Harlequin Intrigue, Harlequin NeXt, Silhouette Nocturne and now Harlequin American. I’m thrilled to be writing for Harlequin American with some of my favorite authors. My four book series, THE WEDDING PARTY, will be released in 2008.
When four old school friends reunite for one’s wedding, romance ensues between everyone but the intended bride and groom. UNEXPECTED BRIDE Abby Hamilton is used to getting blamed for everything that goes wrong in Clover, Michigan – that’s why she ran away eight years ago and never returned until her best friend asked her to stand up in her wedding. She agreed to be a bridesmaid, never a bride. Clayton McClintock isn’t thrilled Abby’s back in Clover; she’s always been a troublemaker. But now he’s the one having trouble resisting her and her adorable daughter.
In THE BEST MAN’S BRIDE, Dr. Nick Jameson never gets a chance to hand off the ring to the groom, but he finds himself tempted to slip one on the finger of the bride’s younger sister, Colleen McClintock. Too bad watching his friend get hurt has made him even more mistrusting of women.
In FOREVER HIS BRIDE jilted groom Dr. Adam Towers isn’t too upset to find himself left at the altar with the maid of honor, Brenna Kelly. While Brenna is attracted to the groom, she knows her friend will come to her senses and claim her man and his cute twin boys. Despite loyalty and friendship, she finds herself falling for Adam and his sons.
FINALLY A BRIDE Molly McClintock ran out on the wrong man into the arms of the right one. But Eric South isn’t convinced that anyone, let alone Molly, can love him and his scars. She’s already broken one engagement with Eric since she first promised to marry him when they were in second grade. Can he trust her to finally be his bride?
Lisa
Right now, here's Lisa Childs, and I'll turn it over to her!
Hi, I’m Lisa Childs. I’ve written for Harlequin Intrigue, Harlequin NeXt, Silhouette Nocturne and now Harlequin American. I’m thrilled to be writing for Harlequin American with some of my favorite authors. My four book series, THE WEDDING PARTY, will be released in 2008.
When four old school friends reunite for one’s wedding, romance ensues between everyone but the intended bride and groom. UNEXPECTED BRIDE Abby Hamilton is used to getting blamed for everything that goes wrong in Clover, Michigan – that’s why she ran away eight years ago and never returned until her best friend asked her to stand up in her wedding. She agreed to be a bridesmaid, never a bride. Clayton McClintock isn’t thrilled Abby’s back in Clover; she’s always been a troublemaker. But now he’s the one having trouble resisting her and her adorable daughter.
In THE BEST MAN’S BRIDE, Dr. Nick Jameson never gets a chance to hand off the ring to the groom, but he finds himself tempted to slip one on the finger of the bride’s younger sister, Colleen McClintock. Too bad watching his friend get hurt has made him even more mistrusting of women.
In FOREVER HIS BRIDE jilted groom Dr. Adam Towers isn’t too upset to find himself left at the altar with the maid of honor, Brenna Kelly. While Brenna is attracted to the groom, she knows her friend will come to her senses and claim her man and his cute twin boys. Despite loyalty and friendship, she finds herself falling for Adam and his sons.
FINALLY A BRIDE Molly McClintock ran out on the wrong man into the arms of the right one. But Eric South isn’t convinced that anyone, let alone Molly, can love him and his scars. She’s already broken one engagement with Eric since she first promised to marry him when they were in second grade. Can he trust her to finally be his bride?
Lisa
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Writing for Fun or Profit?
Two events made me think about writing commercial fiction; first, our lunch group (comprised of seven published and unpublished authors) is going back to our roots as a critique group. Second, I’m presenting my workshop “Writing a Synopsis That Sells” in Austin on April 10. Both critiques and synopses are necessary only if you are trying to sell your writing project. If you are writing for the pleasure of the process, you don’t need either. (In my opinion, of course!)
Critiques can be a tricky thing. Whoever is critiquing your work, whether they are multi-published or non-published readers, gives you their opinion and brings their own experience and preferences. Hopefully, they will let you know if something is a personal preference rather than a universally held truth. For example, I don’t like romances where there are two possible love interests for the heroine. (This was quite popular years ago.) That doesn’t mean some very wonderful books can’t be written with this premise. I would always tell a person I was critiquing that, if their book contained two possible heroes, it wasn’t my personal favorite. However, in another example, if someone wrote an ending to a romance where one hero and one heroine didn’t have a happy ending, I would tell them this was not workable in commercial romance fiction. The happy ending is a rule in romance. It’s one of the reasons I absolutely love reading and writing romance novels.
A synopsis is often prefaced with “dreaded,” which I don’t understand because I love to write synopses! I sold my first two books – one a historical and the other a short contemporary – on a synopsis and three chapters. I always write a synopsis before I write the book because I must. I’m not a “pantser,” who writes “from the seat of their pants.” This is a perfectly legitimate method, but it’s not mine. So, my synopsis serves as an outline to the story, defines the characters, shows motivation, action and reaction, the black moment, and the resolution.
Here’s the “commercial” part – if you’re not trying to sell your work, you don’t need to put yourself through a critique or write a synopsis. You can create what you want in any format, style or length you want, without putting yourself through hoops. That’s the joy of writing non-commercial fiction. The only problem may come when you try to mix the two! If your heart is set on selling to Harlequin, for example, there are limits to content, length, sensuality, etc. for each line. On the other hand, if you write for the joy of the written word, then don’t feel you must ever fit the mold.
Writing can be a wonderful hobby or a wonderful career. Happy writing, whatever you choose to pursue.
Critiques can be a tricky thing. Whoever is critiquing your work, whether they are multi-published or non-published readers, gives you their opinion and brings their own experience and preferences. Hopefully, they will let you know if something is a personal preference rather than a universally held truth. For example, I don’t like romances where there are two possible love interests for the heroine. (This was quite popular years ago.) That doesn’t mean some very wonderful books can’t be written with this premise. I would always tell a person I was critiquing that, if their book contained two possible heroes, it wasn’t my personal favorite. However, in another example, if someone wrote an ending to a romance where one hero and one heroine didn’t have a happy ending, I would tell them this was not workable in commercial romance fiction. The happy ending is a rule in romance. It’s one of the reasons I absolutely love reading and writing romance novels.
A synopsis is often prefaced with “dreaded,” which I don’t understand because I love to write synopses! I sold my first two books – one a historical and the other a short contemporary – on a synopsis and three chapters. I always write a synopsis before I write the book because I must. I’m not a “pantser,” who writes “from the seat of their pants.” This is a perfectly legitimate method, but it’s not mine. So, my synopsis serves as an outline to the story, defines the characters, shows motivation, action and reaction, the black moment, and the resolution.
Here’s the “commercial” part – if you’re not trying to sell your work, you don’t need to put yourself through a critique or write a synopsis. You can create what you want in any format, style or length you want, without putting yourself through hoops. That’s the joy of writing non-commercial fiction. The only problem may come when you try to mix the two! If your heart is set on selling to Harlequin, for example, there are limits to content, length, sensuality, etc. for each line. On the other hand, if you write for the joy of the written word, then don’t feel you must ever fit the mold.
Writing can be a wonderful hobby or a wonderful career. Happy writing, whatever you choose to pursue.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Old Dishes
My mom has a dozen off the most unique and beautiful plates I’ve ever seen. Her father—my grandpa— bought them for her when she was newly married. They were wandering around the Jewish section of New York City when Mom saw the big, dark-blue plates with scenes of people in the woods, on the mountains, farming, and other outdoor settings. The details are slightly raised and hand painted. Mom wanted these plates, which are about one-third larger than normal dinner plates and were designed to hang on the wall, for Thanksgiving. Her father bought them for her. We ate off them just once that I remember, back when I was a little girl. Using those plates felt so special. Recently Mom asked if I wanted the set. Do I ever! We live far apart, she in Indianapolis and I in Seattle, so she’s having them carefully wrapped and shipped to me.
I plan to use them more often than Mom did. But what if we chip one? That’s a fear I have. My grandpa wouldn’t want me to worry about that. He’d say what he always used to say, “Use them in the best of health.” And I will, but carefully.
They’ll have to be hand-washed, too, but that’s a small price to pay. The warmth I feel from this gift is deep and lovely. I’ve never considered myself sentimental, but I guess I am. It’ll be as if my grandpa, who died in 1976, were here with us.
Anyone out there feel sentimental about certain inanimate objects? Please share your stories because I’d love to know I’m not alone.
Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net
I plan to use them more often than Mom did. But what if we chip one? That’s a fear I have. My grandpa wouldn’t want me to worry about that. He’d say what he always used to say, “Use them in the best of health.” And I will, but carefully.
They’ll have to be hand-washed, too, but that’s a small price to pay. The warmth I feel from this gift is deep and lovely. I’ve never considered myself sentimental, but I guess I am. It’ll be as if my grandpa, who died in 1976, were here with us.
Anyone out there feel sentimental about certain inanimate objects? Please share your stories because I’d love to know I’m not alone.
Ann Roth
It Happened One Wedding, April, 2007
Another Life, April, 2007
www.annroth.net
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Just go with the flow!
I left town before sunrise this morning, traveling half the state away to take a test for what I do when I'm not writing, AKA the day job.
Performance test, they call it. Ha! Stress test, those of us who know better say.
I've lived through this torture before, you see, and first time around, I did stress. I studied, practiced, agonized. Tore hair, gnashed teeth, sweat blood.
This time, I said, "Forget it. I'm just gonna wing it."
And I did.
Funny thing was, this time, I felt better. I have no idea about my test results, but it felt good just to go with the flow.
"Flow" is a word that's been kicked around in psychology circles for a while now. According to the literature, flow is something you get. Something you experience. Something that is produced by doing something you really want to do.
In other words, when you're truly involved in a job or a task or a hobby, you lose yourself in the moment.
You get flow.
You could be at the office creating the perfect spreadsheet or at home polishing silverware to a diamond-bright glare. You could be cooking, painting a sunset, grouting the tub, or teaching your three-year-old to tango. You could be lazing in a hammock watching the fluttering progress of a nearby butterfly.
What you're doing doesn't matter. What's important is how you feel when you're doing it. If time stops for you, you're in flow.
That happens to me when I'm writing. Hours can go by; I don't notice. The world could go away; I wouldn't care. Heck, I can miss a meal when I'm writing—and if you knew me, you'd realize that's a very big deal! Food doesn't matter when I'm wrapped up in something I truly enjoy.
When I'm winging it.
When I've got my flow.
You know when you've got yours, too. And I'd love to hear when that is.
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
Performance test, they call it. Ha! Stress test, those of us who know better say.
I've lived through this torture before, you see, and first time around, I did stress. I studied, practiced, agonized. Tore hair, gnashed teeth, sweat blood.
This time, I said, "Forget it. I'm just gonna wing it."
And I did.
Funny thing was, this time, I felt better. I have no idea about my test results, but it felt good just to go with the flow.
"Flow" is a word that's been kicked around in psychology circles for a while now. According to the literature, flow is something you get. Something you experience. Something that is produced by doing something you really want to do.
In other words, when you're truly involved in a job or a task or a hobby, you lose yourself in the moment.
You get flow.
You could be at the office creating the perfect spreadsheet or at home polishing silverware to a diamond-bright glare. You could be cooking, painting a sunset, grouting the tub, or teaching your three-year-old to tango. You could be lazing in a hammock watching the fluttering progress of a nearby butterfly.
What you're doing doesn't matter. What's important is how you feel when you're doing it. If time stops for you, you're in flow.
That happens to me when I'm writing. Hours can go by; I don't notice. The world could go away; I wouldn't care. Heck, I can miss a meal when I'm writing—and if you knew me, you'd realize that's a very big deal! Food doesn't matter when I'm wrapped up in something I truly enjoy.
When I'm winging it.
When I've got my flow.
You know when you've got yours, too. And I'd love to hear when that is.
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
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