Tag Archives: romance author

Bounding toward you like an excited puppy

27 Wednesday Dec 2017

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Every once in a while I see something so dumb that I fume about it for days, and this time, I saw the dumbest “inspirational” line on Twitter, and I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly lost them! It was this:

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Ironically, this was on an entrepreneurial Twitter feed that someone else shared. I don’t get how an entrepreneur would get anywhere at all if they didn’t chase what they wanted! I mean, they might make it appear like buying their widget was your idea, but come on… they’re chasing it night and day!

Now, I understand why people WANT to believe this. It’s appealing, isn’t it? Don’t do anything, just “elevate your game” and whatever you want will come bounding toward you like an excited puppy. This is the sort of thing a fourteen-year-old will tell you because it works well for their social lives in middle school. Ignore your peers and they’ll like you more. But in the real world, no one is waiting to chase you down with good things. Unfortunately.

Sometimes life can be incredibly unfair. There are people who have to work way harder than others to get the same outcome. There IS such a thing as privilege. But if we take the cards we’re dealt, and we’re the hardest worker in the room and don’t get distracted, our chances of success go up exponentially. Shy of a rich daddy with influential friends, there isn’t an easier path. Just plain old hard work.

For me, the most important thing is to find joy in the process. I’m grateful when good things come my way and never take it for granted. Not quite so sexy, is it? It’s hard to say “Boom” after advice like mine, but in my humble opinion, it’s more reliable.

It also doesn’t fit onto a little meme square very well. What can I say? 😉

 

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A lot more like a circus than you’d think!

19 Thursday Mar 2015

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With a book about to be released, a manuscript submitted and waiting on the edge of my seat to hear back about another manuscript which I should hear about any second now…. I’m in a weird limbo.

I might try and make novel-writing into a 9-5 sort of job for the sake of my family, but it isn’t. It’s more like a traveling circus, where you put down your stakes and pour on the energy, bring out the clowns for the length of one novel, then shove it all back into a box and move on again.

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Don’t get me wrong–I love this! I’m just not a very graceful in-between person. I love having a book on the go, and when I’m sitting around planning (or waiting for the answer to hit me), it feels awkward. Fingers to keyboard is a lot more comfortable than wandering my house talking to myself, saying things like, “So why? Why does she need him?”

I can procrastinate like a pro when I have a book set up and ready to write! In fact, I have a lot going on this week. My son had a birthday, I have family coming from out of town to help us celebrate, and we’ve all gone down with one truly appalling cold that’s left us run down and medicated. So if I had that book primed and ready to roll, I’d sit back in complete comfort–or as much as this cold will allow–and forget about it.

But I don’t. So I can’t. I do NOT have a big pile of work waiting for me right now. So how can any logical person expect me to rest?

That is the neurotic mind of a writer. We’re the tortured sort. If life doesn’t torture us, we torture ourselves. 😉 So don’t be alarmed. I’ll be fine. It’s this kind of twisted work ethic that creates the soothing stories you read before sleep. LOL!

Photo by Usien

Photo by Usien

My tail bone wasn’t harmed in the making of this blog post

19 Thursday Feb 2015

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Outside, the sidewalks were shiny with ice. Shiny! If you live somewhere that freezes, you know what that means. White with ice means it’s like an ice rink. SHINY with ice means that it has a slick of water on top. It’s a bit suicidal.

When I dropped my son off at school, the kids were going down like bowling pins on the slick of ice in front of the door. It was actually pretty comical, all these snowsuited kids just tipping over into piles. If I’d fallen, I would have considered it less comical. I have further down to go… and I’m less bendy than they are.

So walking home after dropping my son off, I decided to take the short route (instead of my usual long walk meant to ensure that this sedentary author actually gets a bit of physical exercise) and count the teetering, slipping, back-wrenching wobble back home as cardio. You know, like when your heart speeds up at the thought of landing on your tail bone. 😉 It counts–I swear!

Photo by Trevor Rickard This isn't my street, but you get the idea!

Photo by Trevor Rickard
This isn’t my street, but you get the idea!

Anyway, I did arrive home, tail bone intact, and settled in to write. I’m working on a book tentatively called A Second Chance at Forever, which has a deadline that is coming up quickly! I’m loving this book, and I hope you will, too.

I don’t have time to fall on my tail bone right now. I have to sit on this tail bone and get my work done. So there you have it. The life of a writer. Inordinately worried about the health of her tail bone. 😉

Little pitchers and big ears

24 Saturday Jan 2015

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My grandmothers are all gone now. They died when I was very young, so I never got to see how they grew older, how they aged. I do have my mother, but she is decidedly young–under 60–and she’s showing me the ropes.

  • Use Oil of Olay every day after 30.
  • Don’t forget to put cream on the backs of your hands and your neck–spots the young forget.
  • Enjoy your figure while you can, because in ten years, you’ll look back on old photos and wonder what your problem was.

It’s funny how none of us know how to do this getting older thing. We remain these awkward adolescents, in a way, trying to figure out how to dress, how to do our hair, how to keep our weight under control as our bodies mature and change.

The women around me probably don’t know it, but I look to them to see how they do it. The women in my church who sit next to their husbands, or sit alone, the backs of their heads holding my attention. They’re hitting these milestones before me, and I don’t even know what they are! But these women have experience–invaluable experience–that I wish I could learn from.

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And while I sit with my husband in the pew, there are probably younger women looking at the back of my head, wondering the same things about me. Except that we’re all very self-sufficient, and we don’t ask. But we watch. Yes, we most definitely watch! Sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t… like if they knew about my scrutiny, they’d say something about little pitchers and big ears and hush right up.

But how else are little pitchers supposed to figure all of this out?

Instinctively we know that the answers don’t come from a solitary experience, but from a community. I’m still growing my own community of women–many of whom are online–but I know what I need to do, and that is to reach out. We are in this together. And little pitchers have a lot to learn.

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I totally deserve a Mustang

19 Monday Jan 2015

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Are you a fan of Mike and Molly? I really enjoy this show! Due to my own frustrating relationship with the PVR in my home, I missed almost all of this season, so a friend of mine decided to catch me up.

Bless her.

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So you might have noticed that Molly is now an author–a fun twist! I really wish I lived in TV Land. Molly, a previously unpublished author, was able to get a book deal based on the blurb of an unfinished first draft. And her advance was enough to buy a brand new Mustang.

It isn’t realistic, obviously. TV Land never is! And while that shouldn’t bother me, it kind of does! Why? One very simple and shallow reason: when people who know me ask, “Ahem, so…. how well do you do on these books?” I look like a loser who doesn’t have a Mustang, that’s why! 😉

So just so you know… and in case you know any authors….

Mustangs are not the rule with which you should measure your local romance author. 😉

Constantly sweaty in a half layer too many

03 Monday Nov 2014

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We don’t have snow. This is news! I see Facebook friends posting about first snowfalls in the US, but here in the Great Brown North, we’re above freezing. Still. We got a skiff in September, but that doesn’t count when the kids don’t need snow pants for trick or treating!

I shouldn’t complain. It isn’t often that a woman in northern Canada gets to brag about how crazy warm it is while everyone else gets a blizzard, but there it is.

Except… See, I don’t have many “in between” clothes. I have the Mother of All Winter Coats in my closet, and I’m ready for the layering and bundling to come, but… it hasn’t come yet! Our Fall is normally about two weeks long, so I have summer clothes, and I have winter clothes, and I have a few things for the two weeks of Fall and the two weeks of Spring, and I’m kind of confused. It’s like waiting for an ax to fall that just won’t fall. You’re constantly cringing, and then your neck muscles just start to get tired.

Right now, I’m sitting around in long johns and an apron, unsure of exactly how to dress the next time I venture out. Five degrees above freezing is purgatory! Not cold enough to bundle, not warm enough to enjoy. You’re just constantly sweaty in half a layer too many.

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Just end it already! End this beautiful in between weather and put me out of my misery! LOL! But see, having said that, I face the wrath of my fellow Albertans. The S-word is like swearing around here, and if you’re heard breathing it before there is actual S-word on the ground, you’ll be blamed for the ensuing winter weather.

So if you see me and I’m dressed like a confused person, there is a reason for that! We don’t normally have this much of an “in between” season, and my wardrobe isn’t prepared for it! And if you find me tarred and feathered, well, you’ll know why that happened, too.  Shh. I didn’t say a thing. 😉

So carry on, my wintery American friends. Enjoy your snowfalls, and be thankful that at least you know how to dress!

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Full Grown Woman

06 Saturday Sep 2014

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When I was a girl, I couldn’t wait to grow up. Being a grownup would be fantastic! I could do what I wanted. I could wear grown up lady clothes. I could go the bank by myself (the ultimate in my childish fantasies) and talk with authority. I would lay in bed at night, picturing my grown up life…

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And then I grew up.

Ironically, I found myself in a world that idolizes childhood. Women are encouraged to look as young as possible for as long as possible. Women who dress their age in Hollywood are called “matronly.” Oh, and that isn’t a good thing. Women are pressured on every front to act younger, look younger, and feel younger. Our childhood dreams of growing up are met with derision.

You don’t want to be… matronly… do you? Heaven forbid you look like a grown woman!

640px-SandraBullockMay09Call me matronly, but I no longer feel like I’ve achieved something if a complete stranger across the street thinks I’m alluring. There was a time when I took pride in drawing a few looks, and while I do still think I’m beautiful, I’m past trying so hard for it. I’m mature enough to know that beauty lies deeper. While I don’t think it’s my responsibility to be a “hot mama,” it IS my responsibility to be a good mother, a devoted wife and a noble person. My power no longer comes from flirtation, it comes from intelligence. I’ve grown up.

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this, but I’m a grown woman who enjoys being a grown woman. I like walking into a bank without supervision, and I do talk with authority. You know why? Because I’m a grown woman who has some life experience, who has achieved her own dreams and worked toward something. I have something to offer the younger women coming up behind me.

And that’s a good thing. There is nothing wrong with growing up. In fact, there is everything right about it. I highly recommend it.

 

Beans from bulk bins

01 Sunday Jun 2014

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We planted a pinto bean. I wasn’t even sure if a pinto bean from the bulk section of a grocery store would even grow. I mean, in theory it would, right? But you just never know.

To my surprise, (although perhaps I shouldn’t be quite so shocked when a seed does what it’s supposed to do) it did grow! And it grew and grew into a nice leafy vine. Then it got some flowers on it, and I thought, “There is no way this thing will ever grow beans. I mean, there are no bees to pollinate it.” I’m no farmer, but I have seen some educational TV and bees are a pretty big part of crops and all that, right? (And here is where I should assure you that when I do write a novel about a farmer, there will be massive amounts of research done to close this gap…)

But it did grow beans. These little, fragile pods sprouted, and we watched them get bigger every day. They grew and grew until the plant turned yellow and started to die. So we picked the bean pods and opened them up. I figured if nothing else it could be a learning moment for my son about where the beans in the bulk bin at the grocery store come from. There were these pale little green beans inside that looked nothing like the beans in the grocery store, and we put them on a plate to dry. I thought, “They probably aren’t mature enough. I was growing a bean plant in a tiny plant pot. It probably died before the beans were even ready.”

I forgot about the drying beans. I was busy about other things. I’d really given up on any more “teachable moments” coming out of them. My son tried to eat a couple of them green and new, and I worried he’d get a tummy ache if they weren’t cooked. (I don’t know! Weird mother worries.) The beans were forgotten for the time being until one day, my son said, “I planted the beans!”

Sure enough, he’d shoved a few into that tiny pot that we’d just ripped the last bean plant out of.

I wasn’t holding my breath. I mean, they probably wouldn’t do anything in that soil, right?

But this morning….

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A bean!

I’ve never been so moved by a sprouting plant before in my life. Never underestimate the power of new beginnings, people. You don’t have to have a whole lot of faith in the process for the process to take care of itself.

There is always tomorrow. ❤

 

Casting the Characters

20 Sunday Apr 2014

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My next book, Rancher’s Redemption, is due to hit bookstores in January 2015. The date might change yet, but so far, that is the information I have. But this means that things are starting to move on the editing side!

First of all, I needed to find some “visuals” for the cover artists to use. They need to know what my characters look like, and while I have a great mental image of them, I needed to send them pictures. We are advised to choose pictures of actors who look similar to our characters, so that’s what I did.

My heroine, a nurse and a city girl, is Nicole Kidman. My hero, a rancher who has just discovered an unnerving secret about his father, is Dean Cain. (You just have to imagine a cowboy hat on his head…)

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The title for Rancher’s Redemption is going to change. Titles are hard to choose because so many are already taken. I believe that Rancher’s Redemption is pretty close to the title of another recent release, so I’m going to have to find another one. This will be a long process that consists of me wandering around with a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down ideas as they occur to me, then emails flying back and forth between my editor and I. When we come to a consensus, you’ll be the first to know!

 

Uneasy feelings

03 Monday Feb 2014

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I’m editing right now, and it consumes my waking hours. It might not be my favorite part of the job, but it does need to be done right. By the end of the day, I’m wiped, but I can’t actually say the work is done. I lay in bed at night, thinking things like, “I don’t know why but I feel uneasy about that scene…” And then dream things like this:

800px-Derkovits,_Gyula_-_Sleeping_WomanI’m sitting down to dinner when my parents walk in. This can’t be because they live across the country, and I wonder if I’m dreaming. I notice my mom looks 35 again, and that is also suspicious. I notice that I look 20 again, and I find that even more suspicious. My sister-in-law walks in in a dreadful state, and I know that she’d never go out in public looking like that, so I’m even more suspicious that I may in fact be dreaming. I start serving dinner to my now very full kitchen.

Then I wake up, and as I’m waking up, I feel utterly victorious–I called it! Total dream! I knew something was off with that!

And then when I’m all the way awake, my mind goes back to that scene I was editing before I went to bed–that scene that made me feel uneasy. It isn’t right somehow. I’m missing something.

I grab my laptop and turn on the light. My husband grumbles something about needing sleep and pulls the blanket over his head, and I hunker down, telling myself, “I’ll just go over that scene one more time…”