Why do you read it?

In which, you will learn far more about Michele than you probably care to know.

I'm talking about erotica today, people. The sexy books, the books filled with sex, the ones you read under the covers, the (shhh) left-handed reads.
Have you ever read erotica? Would you like to try? Or do you sneer at their suggestive covers as you rush quickly by that aisle in the book store.

My first glimpse at erotica was Anne Rice's Beauty series. I'd never read erotica or anything faintly smutty before that. I hadn't even read a lot of romances at that point. I actually ordered the book through a book club, because, heaven forbid! I be seen purchasing it in a book store. This was the sort of stuff my mother would sneer it. so of course, I HAD to read it.


Ms. Rice opened my eyes. Wide. I must say that first book was quite interesting. It grabbed me. It whispered to me. It kept me reading until I'd reached the end and then I had to come up for air, back to the real world. What the heck was that? Had reading a book actually 'stirred' me? What a revelation! There were actually books that describe the sex act in such detail that...that...well, I'll leave that to your imagination. :-) I must say though, that there were two more books in that series, and after you've read the first, the rest are just boring. How many times can you slip part A into part B or add in characters C, D and E before you've read it all before? I decided after that, that erotica didn't interest me. It wasn't the clinical sex act that intrigued me about these stories. It was the story. I had to have story, because if I can't relate to the character, or fall in love with the hero, then it's just not going to work for me. And come on, I'm not willing to invest time in reading unless it satisfies on all levels. Otherwise, I can just page from sex scene to sex scene, if that's what I'm looking for.

But maybe, that's what erotica is supposed to be? Since it features sex on virtually every page, it's eliminated the need TO page through looking for those scenes. Hmmm... Maybe I'm coming to this erotica thing from an entirely wrong perspective. :-)

So my next venture in erotica knocked my socks off. (Don't read into that one too much, eh?) It was something written by Emma Holly, before she was Emma Holly. She hadn't even published yet. But here, in my hands was this amazing story with..STORY...and sex. Lots of sex. Startling sex. Daring sex. Menage sex. Caring sex. Regrettful sex. Heck, there was sex dripping off the pages. But you know what else there was? Story. Sure the sex was awesome, original (but not too kinky) and capable of doing things to a person that well...I'll leave that to your imagination. But the story grabbed me. I felt for the characters. It was interesting to me to follow them when they weren't having sex, and yet, I hungered for those scenes as well. Here was fine erotica. So I devoured Ms Holly's works (after publication) and then went on to check out a few other Black Lace titles.

You learn a lot about yourself reading erotica. Your likes, your disgusts, and your 'hmm, now that's interesting'. I understand there's a whole BDSM movement in the erotica/romantica books out there, but that doesn't appeal, probably for the fact that I just don't get it. I mean, come on, that would hurt! Spanking? Yeah, that's another tough one. Perhaps I'm not quite the erotica afficianado I think I am (well, heck, I'm not!). But at least I gave it a try, and came out of it knowing what works and what doesn't work, for me.

So what do you look for when you buy erotica? Can you recommend a great writer who really gets it, knowing that in order to appeal to our sexual natures you also have to appeal to our intellect, our values and tap into our hidden fantasies without insulting us? Do you think the erotica market will remain as hot as it is? Why do you think it's become so hot over the past few years? And come on, why do YOU read it?

M

The Burning Question

This one requires input from all our readers. I'm attempting to compile a DVD collection that would make any romance reader/writer drool. So I need to know, what's your favorite chick flick? If your first choice is already mentioned, tell us your second, or third, whatever.

Betina Krahn's TRUE DESIRES!

Betina Krahn has found a new publishing niche and what a niche it is. THE BOOK OF TRUE DESIRES is the second in her Victorian adventure series and this book has everything going for it! Read on for our discussion about the book, her process, and what she has up her sleeve.


Helen: I must admit, Betina, I haven’t read a historical romance for ages, busy as I’ve been writing my own books and trying, miserably, to keep up with the contemporary market. Reading THE BOOK OF TRUE DESIRES was a breath of fresh air for me. What made you decide to tackle writing action adventures?

Betina: Well, there I was, hanging from a mountain face in Nepal. . . Not.
I guess I’m just at a place in my life where action and adventure appeal to me—I’m reading more of it these days. It’s my fantasy that The Book of True Desires may spark a renaissance in historicals, with an emphasis on romantic adventures.
Hey, I said it was a fantasy!

Helen: Well it’s a fantasy I wholeheartedly share, given I’m a writer of contemporary romantic adventures! But from reading your article in the August RWR, this book was a tough one for you. Care to elaborate, or would you prefer wiping the sweat from your brow and moving on?

Betina: I just couldn’t step away from some ideas that weren’t working for me. But now, with more perspective, I think a big part of my “stall” was the fact that I lost both my beloved agent of 18 years (to retirement) and my dear editor (to motherhood!) within a three month span. I felt adrift for a while, like I didn’t have my footing.

Helen: Changing agents alone would have been tough enough, but both an agent and editor. Wow! Amazingly, this book reads as if it flowed effortlessly from the tips of your fingers. How’d you manage that?

Betina: It was the literary trolls I keep chained in the basement. No, really-- after I ditched the plot, setting, and characters, I went back to first principles and started over with a CHARACTER instead of a plot. I crafted a heroine I wanted to BE, not just read about. She was the starting point. When I found her a suitable hero and they began to interact, things just took off. It became pure writing JOY.

Helen: Can I be Cordelia too? Pretty please? I loved her. You, too, have mentioned on an earlier blog that she’s your favorite heroine. Tell us about her.

Betina: Hey, she’s my girl. She’s an adventuress who lives by her wit and nerve, and who makes no apologies for it. She carries a pistol strapped to her thigh, and nearly shoots the hero’s ear off. . . more than once! Despite her yen for adventure and the exotic experience, she’s more a pragmatist than a romantic. . . until Goodnight starts to get to her. She has a tender heart that she fights to protect, and of course with me at the helm, she loses the battle. Bwahahahah.

Helen: Excuse me, but the woman has no fear! If she were alive today, what would she be doing?

Betina: Oooooo. Interesting question. She might be a captain in the Army, flying helicopters in Iraq. She might be a doctor or nurse volunteering in a war or disaster ravaged country, or a scientist working on a much needed vaccine for a scary viral weapon. She could be an archaeologist or a naturalist who, like Jane Goodall, retreats into the jungle to study and protect endangered species. Or she might be adept at languages and work as a translator for a multinational corporation or on an anti-terrorism-- hey, just a minute! (stritch, scritch, scratch, scribble) Gotta write these down!

Helen: Ever have the urge to write a contemporary?

Betina: Funny you should ask. I am at this moment working on a contemporary that is part women’s fiction, part mainstream. And I have started two others. One is a SciFi romantic adventure and the other is. . . ummm. . . a SciFi adventure with some romance. I’m going where the muse leads.

Helen: This story has everything a romance should have, IMHO. I can’t give away the details, but beyond conflict, danger, romance, of course, there’s plenty of adventure in exotic places. Even some age-old Mayan mysticism. Where did you come up with all that stuff?




Betina: Mostly books and internet and a fertile imagination. But, I did travel to two hotels in Florida and took botanical photos at the Pittsburgh Conservatory. I had already researched patent medicines. I studied Mayan culture, myths, and “glyph” writing, steamship lines, Havana, the Spanish-American War, and various historical characters. I had to investigate the geography and ecosystem of the Mexican mountains: jungle vegetation, jaguars, orchids, snakes, butterflies, volcanoes, edible and poisonous plants, and the governance of local villages (los ancianos). I had to learn about Mexican “brujas” (witches), and about burros, and foaling and volcanoes. . . it seemed like it would never end. Virtually every element of the book is based on fact—despite the fact that it’s a fairly extraordinary adventure! Ooooo! And I put a number of the photos that I took and gathered for inspiration on my web site! Go see 'em!




Helen: The truth is stranger than fiction, right? I loved the details you included about Mayan culture and the “bruja” character, Yazkuz. She was very vivid to me. Let’s talk about your hero, Hartford Goodnight. I’m usually a big fan of type A, macho heroes, but Hart has such a great sense of humor. It’s that Owen Wilson factor. What do you think readers will like about Hart?

Betina: His snarkly, insolent wit. That and the fact that he’s appallingly honest. Privately, though, he’s pretty vulnerable. He manages to hide it most of the time; we only learn about it from his journal. That’s the one place he’s truly, wholly himself. So it becomes The Book of [HIS] True Desires.

Helen: Ahhh, his journal. One of my favorite parts of the book. He’s so sweet and funny. Betina, you do such a great job with humor in your books. The way Cordie and the hero, Hart Goodnight, relate to one another in the beginning of the book is very funny. I got a kick out of how she comes up with goofy last names for Hart – Goodacre, Goodenough, Goodbody. How did you come up with Goodnight for the hero’s last name?

Betina: It just sounded “British” and “butlerish” to me. And I quickly realized there could be a number of amusing variations on it. There’s nothing quite as insulting as having someone repeatedly mispronouncing your name ON PURPOSE. My older sister used to do that to me all the time and I hated it. And, no, I won’t say what she called me.

Helen: I kept envisioning Pierce Brosnan as Hart. (Who was fantastic in The Matador, by the way!) Do you ever have actors or actresses in your mind when you’re writing about your characters?

Betina: I don’t usually think of actors themselves; I think of actors in specific roles. Like Pierce Brosnan in “The Thomas Crown Affair.” Jason Statham in “The Transporter.” Sean Connery in “Goldfinger” and “Thunderball.” Vigo Mortensen and Karl Urban in “The Lord of the Rings.” Or even Alan Rickman as the deliciously snarky Sheriff of Nottingham in “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.” Yeah, come to think of it, there’s a big helping of Alan Rickman’s sheriff in Hart Goodnight!

Helen: Alan Rickman is one of my favorites and he’s so sardonic in that Robin Hood movie. I’d take him over Kevin Costner any day. So after Cordelia and Hart, what’s your next action adventure?

Betina: I’m working on Montgomery’s story. Remember him? He’s in “True Desires” (poor guy) in a rather limited capacity. But he has such “hunk” potential. He could use a little humility and a whole lot of love. . . so I’ve decided (at my editor’s urging!) to give him his own romantic adventure.
Uh, oh. . . one, two, three. . . that makes FOUR books I’m working on.
Crap. I have got to get busy!
But AFTER this interview is over.

Okay, now Betina’s all yours. Questions, comments, the floor is yours folks!!

The Seasons are a changin'

Candace here, mourning the imminent end of summer--and it's not even my favorite season. Oh, I love it for the flowers. And sun-ripened, sun-warmed tomatoes fresh off the vine for tomato and mayo sandwiches and quick pasta dishes. And the basil from my garden for pesto any time I want it. I love the long, lovely summer days, too, when it's light until 9:30 and you can sit out on the deck in the lingering twilight (next to a Citronella candle) with a glass of wine and watch the Blue Heron in the pond out back, fishing for his dinner. BUT... You can keep the heat and the humidity (and the frizzy hair--which is honey blond now, BTW, no orange roots!) and the 'skeeters, which are inordinately fond of my blood and leave my husband completely alone.

By the end of August, I've had all the heat and bugs I can take, thank you very much! By the end of August I am starting to look longingly at the sweaters and long skirts in the catalogs that come to my house by the dozens. I begin browsing through my cookbooks, wondering how soon it will be cool enough for beef stew and shepherd's pie and all those other hearty stick-to-the-ribs kinds of dishes that are just too heavy to make and eat in the summer. I begin thinking about sorting through my holiday decorations to see which are good for another year and which need to be replaced.

Fall is my favoritie season. When I was a kid, it signaled the beginning of school (Yes, I was a geek who loved school. Want to make something of it?). It meant new, unused pencils and fresh, new notebooks. It meant Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas weren't far off. It still signals the beginning of the year to me (much more so than January 1st which is just another day in winter). I love the crunch and crispness of Fall. I love the promise of snow in the air. I love sitting out on the deck, all bundled up, roasting marshmellows in the firepit (and no 'skeeters!).

I love everything about Fall except... in another four weeks it will be time to put my garden to bed for the winter. I'll have to cut back my herbs to hang for drying and make one last big batch of pesto to freeze in hopes it will last through the winter (it never does). In six weeks, we'll have had our first hard frost and all my flowers will have died. It will be time to empty and clean all my planters and store them until next Spring. For a few weeks after that, my deck and patio will look empty and barren and a little sad.

And then it will snow, covering everything in a fresh, gleaming blanket of white..and winter will be my favorite season for awhile.

So, what's your favorite season? And why?

Kathleen Enjoys Scary Stuff in the Tub

I think I have some sort of summer flu. Last night I felt awful--ached everywhere, shivering with bone-deep chills. It's normal weather for August, and my fingertips are numb. My husband's prescription was a hot soak and blackberry brandy. We have a hot tub, but it's out on the deck, and I was not going to be wet outside. So I drank the brandy and climbed into the tub. But I needed a loooong soaking to kill the chills, so I took a book along. PALE IMMORTAL had given me chills the night before--or maybe it was that awful storm--so I took it with me to the tub, figuring it would be like covering my head with a blanket. The ghoulies can't get you when you're under a blanket, you know.

Reading in the bathtub was one of my favorite forms of relaxation when I was a teenager. If nobody pounded on the door (we only had the one bathroom) I'd add hot water when things started to cool off, happily turn myself into a prune, and read for hours. Haven't done it in years. It's sooo self-indulgent. But it's lovely, especially when you're reading a delicious chiller like PALE IMMORTAL. I highly recommend it. Just be careful not to get too much steam going. It can melt the glue.

A few nights ago we watched 16 BLOCKS on dvd. I really wanted to get out to a theater, but life's been too crazy, so Blockbuster it is. But there's a sad dearth of decent new releases this time of year, so it's hit-and-miss, mostly miss. Now, Bruce Willis is not one of my husband's favorites, and I still think "Moonlighting" was his best gig. (Am I forgetting anything more memorable?) But this movie was pretty good. It has the wild chase stuff going, which generally bores me, but I thought the pacing in this was pretty good--left room for a little character development. Mos Def is quite good. Willis plays the kind of hero I really go for--tortured. He's made some really big mistakes, but this time he's going to get it right. What's fun about the dvd is the alternate ending. After you watch it, you know what the alternative will be. Interesting they should choose the one they did. Has anyone seen it? Which one do you think works better?

If I get to the theater in the near future, I want to see "Little Miss Sunshine" and "World Trade Center." Will I be disappointed?

Seven Days Out

Sunday: Kathy
Monday: Candace
Tuesday: Helen is interviewing Betina about her new release, THE BOOK OF TRUE DESIRES
Wednesday: The Burning Question
Thursday: Michele
Friday: Lois

Watch for Kathy interviewing Anne about PALE IMMORTAL on Monday, September 4th. And Tina Wexler from International Creative Management, Helen's agent, coming for a visit on Friday, September 8th.

RUN MICHELE RUN

interview with michele hauf
by anne frasier


















Back in the horse and buggy days Sandra Brown spent ten pages letting us watch
a sexy hired hand hang a picture on a wall. We loved those slow, sensuous
scenes, but it’s a new, faster world out there.


Enter Michele Hauf and GETAWAY GIRL

Anne: I have to confess I haven’t read that many romances lately, and was surprised to find that GETAWAY GIRL was written for the most part in first person. I loved that. Do you often write in FP?


Michele: First, I'm always surprised when someone who has read the book, a Bombshell
story, calls it a romance. Does it feel like a romance to you? Because
Bombshells are first and foremost action adventure stories. I never feel
like I've got enough romance in there to actually call it an official
romance, but it's cool when readers feel that it is.

Anne: I think the focus on the relationship made it feel like a romance to me, but I’m not a good judge of such things.


Michele: This is my first attempt at writing first person! I had no choice, it
just wouldn't be written any other way. The heroine really wanted front and
center stage, so I just followed along. I had fun with it, and I've since
written one other story in FP. I think it's effective for the Bombshells,
because it really gets you inside the heroine's head.

Anne: First time? You did a fantastic job!
The book is set in Paris. What came first? The plot idea or the visit?

Michele: The plot idea. I visited Paris after I had handed this story in to my
editor, but was able to make some important changes to locale during the
edits. Whew! Otherwise, in the scene where I've got the heroine jumping
over into the river to rescue the princess, she would have landed with a
bone-crunching thud on the sidewalk below. I walked the area while there,
took notes, and made the appropriate changes.


Anne: Jamie is one cool, tough chick who put me in mind
of the main character in Run Lola Run. Do you tend to write that kind of kick-ass female protagonist, or is this something Bombshell was going for?

Michele: I do tend to write kick-ass women. Even in my past historical romances,
I've never cared to have a woman who NEEDED a man. She should at least try
to do for herself, you know? But Bombshell absolutely demands that the
heroine be a take-charge kind of gal. I like the idea that this woman
doesn't need a man, and yet, she'll take him if he treats her right and is
sexy. But I had to have her rescue him in his boxers and galoshes just
because who can resist a half-naked man in a bathrobe and galoshes who's
just called out for his mommy?

Anne: I laughed out loud at the scene where the guy in the car
asks if she’s being kidnapped.

The driver rolled down his window and shouted to me, “Mademoiselle, you are
kidnapped?”

Michele: It stuns me every time someone says I'm funny. Because I'm not. The humor
is never intended, it just happens, but when it does occur, it's always
something where I think "Oh, that'll never come off the way I wish it
would." And then it does seem to work. Funny, eh? :-)


Anne: A lot of funny stuff going on in that area, and in the entire book. This
story really moves full-throttle from cover to cover. Would you care to
discuss that? Was putting so much energy on the page exhausting?
Invigorating? Or just plain fun?

Michele: I knew from the start this had to be a speedy, fast paced book to match the
heroine's need for speed behind the wheel. So I was always aware of making
it so, and trying to have as little down time as possible. Also, having it
in first person seemed to move the story along much faster. I'm big on
'quest' stories, following the protagonists from one challenge to the next
as they make their way to the final big moment. Though I did stick in a few
snippets of the hero's POV in third person because I wanted readers to be
able to relate to him as well. It wasn't exhausting, it was fun! And I
hope I pulled off the car chase stuff, without making it too boring. It
always looks so good on a movie screen, but to make it work on the written
page?

Anne: The car chases were fantastic!
You had a great double entendre in the book.
In checking my spelling I came upon something I had to share:

One of the earliest examples of double entendre in American culture was the
late 19th-century vaudeville act, the Barrison Sisters. They danced, raising
their skirts slightly and asking the audience: "Would you like to see my
pussy?" After an enthusiastic response, they would raise up their skirts,
revealing live kittens secured over their crotches.
From wikipedia.

Poor kitties!!

A-hem. But back to GETAWAY GIRL:

When your character is being chased through bushes, she thinks:

“Normally, I can appreciate a nicely trimmed shrub, but…”

Hilarious! And I have to say Silhouette has come a long way, baby. If I were
to compare this to older romances, I would say it has the energy and balls
(Michele said it first!) of early Loveswepts.


Michele: Again, I did a funny! And without even trying! But my favorite line is "Be
one with the stone, baby." That one kills me every time. (So yeah, I'm
weird; I can laugh at my own stuff.)

Anne: Oh, yeah. That WAS a good one!
CARS: You claim to not be a car person, and yet…. Did you love to drive some
sporty little number at some point in your life?

Michele: Cars mean nothing to me. Not as status symbols, but merely as a safe means
to get me from point A to point B. Just ask my Nascar-nuts hubby. It
drives him insane that I ALWAYS drive the speed limit.

But I did take a BMW driving course while writing this book. It was just an
afternoon of safe driving courses. But when it came to driving the track
with the tight curves at high speed (60-70 mph), and taking those curves
without hitting the brakes? Oh man! That was awesome. But then when it
was time to hand over the wheel to another participant, and me sit in the
backseat? I get sick sitting in the backseat, so I had to cut out of the
class early. (Hey, that's why I write about some things, because it's the
only way I'll ever get to experience the high speed and action.) And
another confession: I still like to take my curves fast. It freaks the
family. I love it.

I did develop a major crush on BMWs while writing this. So I was thrilled
to see one on the cover. But will I ever own one? Probably not. Though I
wouldn't entirely rule out a Mini Cooper. ;-)


Anne: You’re obviously a music person. GETAWAY GIRL had an ever-changing
soundtrack. Care to talk about that?

Michele: I got an iPod while writing this. And yep, music is very important to me.
Can't go a day without it; really feel the loss if I haven't heard tunes one
day. So of course my heroine had to have an iPod. And she started giving
people theme songs, and then there was that trip into the club to see Dove
with Ballroom Blitz blasting in the background. (I adore Dove; sexy,
androgynous charmer that he is.) I used a lot of 80s songs, because France
is big on the old American stuff. But there's also—surprise!—Daniel
Powter's recent hit, Bad Day, in there, which is weird. It just became a
hit, but I picked that song out in the summer of 2005. (I have such
premonition for hits.) Anyway, I actually DO have a soundtrack for GETAWAY
GIRL after all is said and done. If you have iTunes, go online to the Music
Store, and search iMixes for 'Getaway Girl Book Soundtrack'. I thought it'd
be fun to gather all the songs I mentioned into one place, so if you're
reading, you can listen as well.


Anne: I find action scenes take me much longer to write because they
require so much choreography. He’s doing this. She’s doing this. Other
stuff going on over here. Yet this book is practically action from cover to
cover, and you seamlessly work in internal and external dialogue, plus humor!
How do you juggle like that? And do these scenes take you longer to write?

Michele: Erm....no? You know the toughest scenes for me? The romance scenes. Sex
scenes. Anything where there is no physical, running-for-your-life action.
That's why I enjoy Bombshells so much. My hero and heroine barely have time
to slow down to have sex! Of course, they do. But it'll never be where you
expect it. ;-)

The fight scenes can be fun because I like to baffle my family with
questions like 'I wonder how long it would take to bleed out if you were
stabbed in the kidney?' or my favorite, 'I need a gun that'll blast a hole
in a guy's head, but I don't want splatter, just a nice neat hole.'


Anne: You mentioned the yellow jumpsuit on the cover of GETAWAY GIRL a couple of weeks ago
and I thought it looked fine. Kind of Avengers’ campy. Now that I’ve read
the book I have to wonder about it. The main character wears short plaid
skirts with Doc Martens. I imagine the yellow jumpsuit was a marketing
ploy. We don’t want her dressed too young, but not too old. I know. Let’s
put her in a yellow jumpsuit. Makes sense to me. But I have to give them
credit for using a car. Now that Bombshell has announced funeral plans, care
to comment more on the cover? No comment?




Michele: Yeah, and there's a scene in there where the heroine freaks because she goes
to this guy's house, and it's all YELLOW. She hates yellow! So if you look
at the cover, you'll be confused. All I can say is, I sent the description
of plaid skirts and Doc Martens in with my cover art fact sheet--and I got a
yellow jumpsuit. Go figure. Maybe the artist had a Kill Bill fixation on
Uma, eh?

Over all though, I think the cover rocks. I looks eyecatching and fast.
Conveys the story well.


Anne: I don’t know much about Bombshells, and as I was reading
GETAWAY GIRL I wondered about the target audience. I loved the book, but I got the
feeling it was targeting… maybe 16 – 35 year olds.

Michele: Yep, I think it's early 20's and onward. I'm never surprised at my signings
for both Bombshells and Lunas to see teenagers. I think I write for a
younger audience at some point in my stories, though not consciously. I'm
hoping it'll appeal to those older than 35 as well, because I am (of the
older persuasion), and I love that sort of action stuff.



Anne: What’s coming up? I know you have a vampire book coming out
fairly soon. And you’re also the mastermind behind the The Ultimate Vamplist,
a compilation that staggers the mind.



Michele: Got FROM THE DARK out this November. It's one of the launch books for
Silhouette's new paranormal romance Nocturne series. It's dark, sexy
and...well, dark. But there is romance! And sex! No chases, so the hero
and heroine have lots of time to get to know each other better. Oh, and the
hero is a vampire rock star. Gotta love that.

Anne: Ooh, yeah! I can’t wait to read that! Anything you’d like to add? About GETAWAY GIRL or upcoming projects?


Michele: Getaway Girl is actually the second book in the Network series. The first
was ONCE A THIEF. Oh, don't worry, they're both stand-alone stories. You
don't have to read the first to get the second. But there was a third story
planned (Sacha's sister) but that one will now not be released because of
the demise of the Bombshell line. Of course, I'm not giving up on the
story, but it will be set aside for a while.

Thanks so much, Michele. Very cool backstory to a delightful and fun read!! And if I remember correctly today is a special day for you.




HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHELE!!

HAPPY HOUR!!

Helen should be here any second, but I'm starting things off with the first round of drinks.

What are you having? What is your favorite drink?




I think they have Karoake at this joint. Anybody up for that?

Confess: Have you ever done Karoake?

I will admit to doing it one time. Boy George's Do You Really Want to Hurt Me. That's a tough one.




oh, and i chose kind of a seedy bar for happy hour. sorry!! i hope Helen doesn't have trouble finding it!

Susie crows: I'm done!

I'm done, I'm done, I'm done!

I sent off the book I was writing Tuesday night, all 515 pages of it.

It's not the longest book I've ever written. That honor belongs to my second, TRAITOROUS HEARTS, which clocked in at a whopping 520. But hey, those were the days before publishers starting fussing about paper costs, and it takes a lot of pages to birth a country.

But this is the longest I've done in a decade. With most of the romances, I aimed for 400 and ended up around 450. Only three times I have I kept it down where I was supposed to be, and one of those was the first so that doesn't count.

I knew going in this one was going to be long. Because it's - shh! - not a romance. And boy, that was strange. Exciting, creatively challenging, and very good for me, but weird. I had my rhythm in romance; I knew what I was doing, and had an instinctive feel for what to include and when things needed to happen.

With this, I felt like I was learning to dance all over again.

It's also the first time I was allowed to submit by email. It saved me a lot of time, a lot of hassle, and a fair amount of money.

But the rush wasn't quite the same. There used to be a constant adrenaline build, from sitting there impatiently while my printer cranked away; in admiring that huge stack of pristine, beautiful white pages and thinking "I wrote all that!"; in risking a speeding ticket on my way to FedEX before careening into the parking lot with only a few minutes to spare.

Pushing "send" just doesn't quite do it.

But still and all, typing THE END is one of the great thrills of life. The only thing I can compare it to is when, after hours of painful labor, you FINALLY push that baby out.

What are your "moments?" When you feel that amazing sense of accomplishment and relief?

Susie

The Burning Question

Here's today's question: Do you pay close attention to sales figures and your place on the charts? If not, why not? And if so, what charts/lists do you think are the most important and why?

for your listening pleasure

scarring party eat yr young

Greiman on Hormones and Weddings

Men are boring. Okay, maybe they're not necessarily boring, but think about it--their lives are so static compared to women's. No menstrual cycles, no pregnancies, no labor pains, no menopause.

I, on the other hand, feel like I'm on a hormonal roller coaster. It makes me crazy. I just settle into a semi-normal state and voila, some internal chemical zaps me out of my wits. I mean, motherhood, for instance. It seems as if I just became a mother--was just kind of settling into the role--my favorite role, in fact. Got all three kids potty trained and then, zing! Suddenly I'm a mother-in-law.

That's right, my toddler got married last week-end. And yes, his bride is wonderful and beautiful and bright as a firefly, but he's my little boy!! I'm still trying to figure out how to cope with sending him off to kindergarten and suddenly he's got a wife! And through this all, my husband is as calm as Sunday and spouting nonsense like, "Well, they have to grow up," and, "Aren't they a cute couple?" Meanwhile my maniacal hormones are swinging me around by hair shouting, "No, they don't have to grow up, damn it! I can't live without them."

So how does one cope? Especially after pouring heart and soul into one's children. How do we function after they're gone? How do we act normal?

Okay, that was maybe a little more honesty than anyone wanted. Sorry. I think I'll blame it on estrogen.

LONELY MOON short fiction contest

message from anne:



Come one come all to the Lonely Moon short fiction contest.
The Lonely Moon short fiction contest has now begun at the clarity of night!
Jason has been kind enough to invite me to co-host this event. Please join us and tell your friends!

Lonely Moon Contest


From Jason Evans:

Using the photograph above for inspiration, compose a short fiction piece of no more than 250 words in any genre or style. Send your entry to me by email at jevanswriter at yahoo dot com before 11:00 p.m., Tuesday, August 29th (Eastern Time, United States). Attachments are fine. Each entry will be posted and indexed.

To make things interesting, the following prizes are on the line:

* 1st Place: Autographed copy of Pale Immortal, $35 Amazon gift certificate, 8 x 10 print of the "Lonely Moon" photograph (signed by Jason Evans)
* 2nd Place: Autographed copy of Pale Immortal, $25 Amazon gift certificate
* 3rd Place: Autographed copy of Pale Immortal, $15 Amazon gift certificate
* 4th Place: $10 Amazon gift certificate
* 5th Place: $5 Amazon gift certificate
* Readers Choice Award (chosen by you/rules to be announced): Autographed copy of Pale Immortal, 8 x 10 print of the "Lonely Moon" photograph (signed by Jason Evans)


But this is about more than prizes. I hope you take advantage of the opportunity to meet and interact with your fellow writers. Read and comment on the entries. Teach, and learn, from others. Also, please take this opportunity to chat with Anne! She will be commenting on each of your entries and sharing some writing and industry tips on her blog, Static.

As a special treat, after the contest is over and you and I are hard at work reading enties, Anne will share another chapter of her novel on her Pale Immortal blog!

You do not want to miss this one!

Let's make writing a less lonely process.

Rules:

1. 250 words maximum.
2. Titles are optional, but encouraged. Titles do not count towards your word count.
3. One entry per person.
4. Any genre or style is welcome.
5. All rights remain with you, the author; however, you consent to the posting of your entry on this blog.
6. Judging will be conducted by Jason Evans on the basis of pacing, entertainment value, technical use of language, storytelling, and voice.
7. Please provide a name for your byline. If you have a website or a blog, I'd be happy to link your name to it. If you don't have a website or blog, feel free to include a short bio. A bio does not count towards your word count.
8. At the close of the contest, I will announce the date and time for the announcement of winners.
9. After the winners are announced, I will post what I liked most about each entry. Also, if you send a request to me by email, I would be happy to offer any constructive comments I might have. Constructive comments will be by private email.


Let me officially declare the contest open!

Response to Stress

Betina here. . . with the dazzling insight that you're never too old or too self-aware to learn something new about yourself.


Last summer on a tour through France and Italy-- which my nephew-in-law called our "forced march through Europe"-- I learned that I have a rather peculiar reaction to stress. Especially pricey, self-inflicted stress like PLANNED TOURS. My personality splits and I develop alternate egos who come out at strange and sometimes unfortunate times and entertain my fellow sufferers.

My family and closest friends have long known about The Duchess. She's a windy, imperious fog-horn voiced old British broad who is probably based on Aniteb. (Oooo, I'm going to pay for that one.) The Duchess is opinionated and garish and way too loud to permit into the sacred precincts of Europe's great cathedrals and monuments.

But it turned out, she has a few friends. . . like Madame LaBarge, who has a nasty signature laugh (Heh, heh, heeeeh) that announces her arrival and a voice like Chloris Leachman with testosterone poisioning. Needless to say, I discovered her in Paris and there are probably still people on the Champs Elysees looking over their shoulders for possessed American tourists.

Then in Nimes (Provence) I discovered Mademoiselle Fifi. . . a sly little coquette who has a high, squeaky voice and a flirtatious manner. Her signature saying is "My name is Mademoiselle Fifi. . . and I have a plan." This "plan " part is always said while tapping her temple with a finger and looking crafty. Needless to say, she bats her lashes a lot and giggles with fascinating insincerity. People adore her. She gets away with murder. And a year later I still don't have a clue what her blessed "plan" is.

It turns out. . . Europe is the perfect place for your personality to decompensate under stress. Apparently people there have been doing it for centuries. I ran into several in Florence. . .
















Back home. I thought I was safe from the chaos my alternate personalities had created "across the pond," but it turns out, I have a couple of other creatures inhabiting my already crowded skin. One is a sadly demented librarian, Maribelle, who made her public debut during Midwest Fiction Writers' 20th Anniversary celebration. She's cranky, abrasive, and liable to say anything. Still another, named Loletta, swipes her nose, hitches up her pants and mispronounces everything in sight. She happens to be an expert on home decoration and delivers a spontaneous and rather disarming little lecture on "fong shewie." She's sort of Larry the Cable guy in drag. And another, who only comes out at conferences is--

Oh, no. Hey, Aniteb-- it was only a joke-- give me back that--

Aniteb here. This woman needs serious help. Thank God she has ME to make certain she gets it. I'll be locking her up for the rest of the day and returning her keyboard when I think she's ready to handle it. It's sad, really. There ought to be some sort of government program to prevent this sort of thing. I've always found that a seven figure check goes a long way toward preventing the sort of decompensation poor Betina seems to suffer from. Where are the bloody Democrats when you need them?

Meanwhile-- what happens to you under extreme stress? Care to relate one of your worst travel moments or reveal what happens to your stomach before or after editor appointments? How about at cocktail parties thrown by publishers? Or meeting the prospective in-laws for the first time? What do you drink, chew, shred, watch, read, or hallucinate about. . . when you're under severe stress? Any quirkly little habits or superstitions you resort to when the pressure is on? I won't be taking notes. . . I promise. . .

Seven Days Out

Monday: Betina
Tuesday: Lois
Wednesday: Burning Question - if you have something you'd like to ask, let us know!
Thursday: Susie and hmm, Happy Hour maybe?
Friday: Anne's interviewing Michele about her September Bombshell, GETAWAY GIRL.
Sunday: Kathy

Tuesday, September 29th, Helen's interviewing Betina about her new release, THE BOOK OF TRUE DESIRES.

And we've got a special guest appearance scheduled for Friday, September 8th. Helen's agent, Tina Wexler, with International Creative Management will be hopping a ride on the blog. Come visit and ask her anything!

Susie talks about her previous life

I don't think it's any surprise that a lot of writers skew towards the new-age end of the spectrum. I have friends who swear they were queens, witches, warriors, and all sorts of other cool things in a previous life.

I always figured that, if I had a previous life, I was probably the milkmaid. But now I'm convinced: I was the person who ran that big crushing machine at the junkyard that obliterates electric appliances of all kinds.

Because, in this life, they hate me. I destroy televisions (though it's better now that I have a remote control and don't actually TOUCH) them, washing machines, curling irons, brand-new car batteries. Garbage disposals . . . I'm really bad on garbage disposals.

This problem, of course, is exacerbated when it comes to the most important tool in my life . . . my computers.

They come into my life and immediately start looking for ways to commit suicide. I don't think I've had one (and I've tried nearly every brand there is) survive in my care more than eighteen months. All I use them for is writing and email. My sons, who are far harder on their machines, playing massive games and downloading things and IMing day and night, have computers that have functioned properly for five years.

Even more of a problem - I'm SURE they do this on purpose - the computers (and associated devices) wait until I'm on a deadline to blow up. I have never had a deadline without a problem. For my first deadline, my brand-new, $1200 printer stopped functioning the day I started printing. I was so panicked I took my floppy, marched back into the store where I'd bought it, and demanded they let me print it out right there. Every now and then frightened geek-boys would peer out of the back room, whisper "are you the writer-lady?" and, at my scowl, scuttle back to safety.

It's only gotten worse since then. The Geek Qquad, bless 'em, are my heroes, but it's gotten so that, when I call them, they bring a whole crew along, because they know it's going to be something wierd, and supposedly impossible, and so they want the newbies to see it. Yes, I am a Training Opportunity.

I'm on deadline right now. Seriously on deadline. The book is going well, and the computers (I have two; a backup seems wise in my case) are functioning reasonably well - though we had five shop visits in May/June. (Coincidence that the original deadline was June 1?)

Maybe this time, I thought. It'll be a first. I certainly don't have time for a problem.

So what happens? You guessed it. The laptop went into the shop on Friday. And my beloved flash drive, which I wear around my neck so that the book doesn't disappear if my house burns down, is corrupted, which my husband assures me is simply not possible.

But apparently it is.

Said husband commented yesterday: "you're really awfully calm about this."

Of course I am. Because I have come to the conclusion that, if I ever finish a book WITHOUT computer disaster, it is a sure sign that the End is Nigh.

Do you all have a big frustration in your life? The thing that always goes wrong when you can least afford it?

Susie, on the backup computer

Waahn! Kathleen missed Happy Hour!

And here's the reason. Grandma duty. It was raining when this picture was taken a few weeks ago. Not so yesterday when I picked them up from preschool, but you still get that "What are we gonna do now, Nana? Huh? Huh?" It's amazing what a full-time job they are. I'd almost forgotten. But the one thing I haven't forgotten (that I didn't know or couldn't believe when my kids were this little) is how fleeting this stage is. I need to treasure this time when they have to depend on me to read to them because they can't do it themselves. I need to take my precious vintage Barbies down from the shelves and risk a few lost shoes and separated old seams. When they ask about the Toni dolls, I need to take the old girls down along with the picture of 4-yr-old Nana with her long-gone Toni. Yes, my darlings, that's really me. I really was that little girl. Still am, at least a little bit. Now let's play!

More than at any other time in my life, I love playing with the girls.
And that extends to big girls, girlfriends. I used to do mostly couples
socializing, rarely felt like I could take time for "just us girls" stuff. I
think part of what's changed that for me has been writers' conferences.
Hubby has enjoyed attending with me sometimes--he's quite popular among the regulars--but I don't mind when he doesn't, because then I get to room with "the girls."

It's only been in recent years that I've started getting together with girlfriends for lunch and a matinee in the middle of the week. I'm included in my daughter's m-i-l's regular girls' nights out--generally arranged around birthdays, but there are lots of family females (extending to in-laws) so plenty of birthdays. I love this stuff!

Oops. I hear a little voice calling "Nana" and we have a birthday party on the agenda for today. But before I go, I could use some suggestions.
What are your favorite activities for "just us girls"?
Oh, and Helen...will you be the designated driver for another Happy Hour anytime soon?

Helen's Happy Hour

It’s Friday, the end of a long week, as Michele and the other Bombshell authors well know. And I’m declaring it happy hour! Woo hoo! In fact, I making it my occasional “theme blog,” if you will, from now on. It’s HHH time.

Happy hour’s something I actually miss about an office job. Don’t get me wrong. I love not having to fight rush hour traffic, but it was nice to occasionally head out after work and visit with co-workers over a drink. Or two.

So here goes. Grab a glass of wine or beer, pour yourself a martini or a cocktail. Sodas and water work too. We don’t have the noise, the pushy crowds, the smoky bars, but we can still gab. About anything.

So what should we talk about? Any new visitors?

Hey, Red!

I want to say up-front that I am not a hair color virgin (or any other kind of virgin for that matter). I've been coloring and highlighting my hair for years, ever since I started squeezing lemon juice on my head and sitting in the sun to lighten my hair (That doesn't work, by the way.). In my defense, though, I have to say I've always stayed within the color range of blond -- dark blond, ash blond, honey blond, almost-platinum blond. I have no experience outside the sphere of blond.

Well, this time when it was time to get my highlights redone I said, "What the hell. Let's try something different. Let's take a walk on the wild side and go strawberry blonde." Only it's not called strawberry blond anymore. It's called copper blond. That should have been my first clue. Well, now my hair is...um...orange. Not red. Not copper. Not strawberry anything. Orange. Halloween candy orange. It is not a good look for me.

I have been back to the hairdresser once already to get my hair "re-processed." It didn't work. I'm still orange. Only now I'm just orange at my roots. The rest of my hair is actually a nice caramel-honey blonde. But the roots are still orange! So not a good look for me! And, no, I am not posting a picture. No way. No how. You'll just have to use your all-too-vivid imaginations .

This weekend I go back to the salon for an even more intensive re-processing. They're going to put ammonia on my head. It doesn't sound good to me. I have visions of ending up with fried hair. Or bald. If I don't...if it actually turns out that I end up with hair that's all one color and not any shade of orange, I promise the hair gods that I will never venture outside the realm of blondness again! Never, never, never.

So, my question to y'all is... What the biggest hair or fashion mistake you've ever made?

The Party Is Over

posted by Michele

Yes, it's a long post. But there's a contest question at the end! Read, or scroll down to it, whichever you prefer.

I have always admired the Harlequin/Silhouette empire. But I have never felt it was a place I really belonged, or would fit in should I attempt to write a story for one of their series. It's as though I have always stood outside the castle gates, in fear of the angry villagers, should I attempt to infiltrate their ranks. Let's just say I 'slipped in to Harlequin through the back door'. And I've felt like an imposter ever since.

By slipping in, I mean, I sold my first book to Harlequin a few years back. It wasn't a romance. Heck, it was a medieval fantasy. I'd just heard of the new Luna line Harlequin had planned to introduce, and did I have a story for that. I sold the book in two months. And suddenly, I was a Harlequin author. But not really. I was a Luna author. I still hadn't broke through to the ranks of series writer. I had invaded the curtain wall, but the keep was yet closed off to me.

One day my Luna editor suggested I send her a proposal for the new line they were starting about kick-ass heroines. "This is a series?" I asked nervously. "Er, I don't know." It wasn't because I didn't want to write a series book. It was because I knew I didn't fit in with that elite crowd of writers who fashioned stories with rich romantic details and emotional punch. My confession? I struggle with the romance part. So how could I be expected to write one of those...romances? I was just fine standing outside the keep door.

Sure, I've written historical romances. And yes, I believe they were very romantic. But I've never sacrificed my love for action and adventure and 'the quest' for romance.

Anyway, my editor asked me again to write a Bombshell proposal. And again. Finally, I figured she really wanted something from me. And, encouraged that this series would be different--action/adventure, suspense and thrills, NOT a romance, but with a touch of romance to fortify the characters and add to the overall story growth. Well, I'd give it a try. I sent in my idea for ONCE A THIEF. My editor bought it. The keep doors were pushed wide open. And I had fallen in love.

I had become a series writer. And I couldn't be more thrilled about it. Still, I felt an imposter, because these books were not romances. But I didn't care. I had breached the inner sanctum. I was part of the empire!

I sold three more Bombshells, and currently have at least two or three ideas beyond that in the works. I have grown passionate about this line. Where else can I write a story that focuses mainly on the heroine? A heroine who is allowed to be rough, tough, a little vulnerable, yet one who DOESN'T NEED A MAN to rescue her? Of course, there always is a man. He's good for joining the heroine on her quest. For eye candy. And sex, sex is good. But he never gets in her way. And if he does? Well, then the sparks fly. And romance? You bet! I've done these heroines so far: a jewel thief, an undercover billionairess who fights white-collar crime, and a getaway car driver. None apologize for mistakes they've made in the past. All are trying to be the best they can be. And each proved the best time I've ever had writing a story.

The Bombshell series was my home. I began to feel less like an imposter. I had found my niche.

Well, you've all heard. January 2007 will be the last month the Bombshell series is published. Sales were not as expected. Theories have been bounced across the blogsphere for the past few days, most landing on marketing. Readers went to their favorite book stores, spied the new Bombshell series nesled amidst all their other favorite H/S romance series and assumed this must be another romantic series. They expected happy endings. They were...confused. There was nothing wrong with the stories. The writers are awesome. I've discovered some great new reads in the line. But something didn't click once the books hit the shelves. The series was given a chance (about 2 1/2 years). Now it's on to the next new thing.

The announcement this past Monday was a shock, even though there had been rumblings that Bombshell was on it's last leg. I am devastated. But I am one of the lucky ones. I had two contracted Bombshells, both in about the half-done stage, slated for publishing later in 2007. Those stories will now be set aside. I may find a new home for them elsewhere. I'm just not sure. In the mean time, I'll replace them with two Nocturne stories, since I am also writing for the new paranormal Nocturne line that debuts this October. That means I have to come up with two new stories, pronto.

Other authors may not be so fortunate. There were first-time sales that will not see their stories published. I cross my fingers for them that they are able to sell the book elsewhere. There are some authors who were in the middle of three or four book series, which will now end abruptly (my Network series ends abruptly as well). Some of these books may find positions in other H/S lines, others will not. It is the nature of publishing. Nothing ever remains for too long. Lines rise and lines fall. Publishers put forth valiant efforts at trying new things all the time. If it works, awesome; if not, on to the next thing.

So here's to all the awesome Bombshell authors who, for a moment, got to kick ass right along with their heroines. Best to you all!

And as for the imposter? Well, I'm still standing inside the keep walls, now writing for an official 'romance' series, which has me shaking in my boots. Sure the Nocturnes are paranormal (which I love!). But that romance I struggle so to put to the page? Do you think people will notice the imposter and charge after her with torches and pitchforks? I'm lying low until I can see if the villager's faces are friendly or ferocious. :-)

CONTEST QUESTION! How many of you found your way to our blog after reading about us in Romantic Times? Please delurk and let us know. And to make things even more interesting, I'll gather all those who post today and will draw one name tomorrow morning. The winner will receive an autographed copy of GETAWAY GIRL, my third (and last--waaaaa!) Bombshell adventure.

M

The Burning Question

Writers sit at their computer all day and write, right? And what happens when writers don't feeeel like writing?

So here's the question: What's your favorite way to sit at the computer and not write?

Kathleen Takes a Walk In the Park

The Eagles are a cross-cultural family. We've integrated our share of suburban neighborhoods, first after moving off the reservation in North Dakota, and now in Minnesota. I take an optimistic view of the American melting pot, and I write about cross-cultural relationships with a romatic flair. But if I had written the scene I observed during our Sunday visit to a nearby playgroud with our grandchildren, my editor would have said I had taken it too far. I swear, for an afternoon the United Nations occupied a tiny bit of territory in white bread SUBURBAN Minnesota. And it inspired me to ponder time and the river flowing, motherhood and apple pie.

A recent article in the Minneapolis paper touted our state as a refuge for interracial couples--one of the highest percentages in the country--and the city boasts lots of recent immigrants. But we live in suburbia, where the scene when took our 2- and 4-year-old granddaughters to a small playground on one of our many small lakes still seems unlikely to me. At one table a large Chinese family (I think Chinese--my ear for languages is limited) shared pizza from Papa John's boxes.

A family possibly from India tried out all the playground equipment with their little ones. The boy wore a knotted headcovering in the Sikh style. Dad's headcovering was visible beneath a basball cap, and Grandfather wore the traditional turban over his. I had to do some research to discover that the knotted covering is used to manage the hair, which is never to be cut. Mom wore Western clothing. They spoke a lanuage I didn't understand--I know India is a land of a thousand languages--very frustrating for a writer. We're eavesdroppers, you know.

Soon another Asian couple arrived with their little boy. Mom claimed a swing next to the one my 2-year-old occupied while Dad followed their toddler around. Mom was doing something in a notebook, but she exchanged a few comments with us. A white family entered the scene speaking what I believe to be Russian. Then came an American English-speaking couple--white mom, black dad, two little girls. A city cab dropped off two tall, willowy Aftrican girls wearing jeans, T-shirst, and flowy, waist-length hair coverings. It was windy, but those scarves were firmly attached, and they fascinated my granddaughters. We had just been playing dress-up using scarves as princess veils. The older girls communicated with our little ones in the way of children--gestures, laughter, and a shared desire to swing, twirl, climb and just play.

And all the while here's the granddaughter of a 19th century Swedish immigrant who wanted nothing more than for his children to blend--no language, customs or dress from the old country--sitting beside her American Indian mate of 35 years, whose 19th century grandfather had seen his customs and religion, not to mention his home, ripped away by immigrants. And here we are in this melting pot, sharing the playgound experience with people who look and talk differently. But we're all here for the same reason: right here, right now this is a safe place for the children to play. Across the globe people are fighting over the differences, and in too many neighborhoods bombs are falling on the playgrounds.

So I'm a writer of women's fiction, and I want my books to sell. I also want them to matter in some way. I know that entertainment matters, but my question is: Without going (shudder) totally "literary," is there room in what we're calling "women's fiction" for a blend of reality and happy or at least hopeful endings? Or do we simply need to get away from it all with a fun read?

The Guiltiest of Pleasures

Bless me Sisters. Betina here.

It has been several hours since my last confession.

I-- mother of two grown sons, grandmother of 2 3/4 adorable children, a mature woman of fifumphy-- have developed a major penguin fetish. I am utterly obsessed with the four quasi-military/secret-agentish/navy-sealesque penguins from the movie "Madagascar."
By way of explanation and at the risk of dragging the rest of you into my private hell, I am herewith publishing my favorite photo of them. Well, second favorite. There's that one where they're digging their way out of the zoo with plastic spoons. . . all dirty and bad-boy to the core. . .
There is something about these flightless, half-psychotic avians that really yanks my chain. I find myself sneaking midnight viewings of the movie in which I fast forward through every scene they're not in. I'm constantly quoting them and chuckle to myself in public places, thinking of their antics. When faced with a decision-- I've taken to asking myself WWTPD-- What Would The Penguins Do? When I saw the movie, sitting there in the dark, watching them in action, I laughed until the people around me threatened to have me thrown out. When Skipper said "Smile and wave boys, smile and wave," I waved back.

Now I've got a full-blown monkey-- er-- penguin on my back. I've downloaded screensavers, bought posters, and am considering joining their fanlist and official Fan Club online. I've memorized their names and specialties:
Skipper - the pudgy one who barks orders with the Charlton Heston delivery
Kowalski - the tallest and most physically adept. . . great with martial arts and explosives
Private - the one with the slightly googly eyes. . . who is always getting slapped by Skipper
Rico - who may or may not be of Asian origin, doesn't speak much English, and is very adept with a sushi knife

The very thought of them puts a smile on my face. Just look at those beaks. Those shifty little eyes. Those pudgy little feet. . .

Madagascar 2 is due out in November of 2008-- I'm dying here! But there may be some relief in store for me. . . there's a Christmas special short coming out this year. . . in which they may once again utter the signature line that never fails to send me into peals of laughter:

"Cute and cuddly boys, cute and cuddly."


So, are you ready to confess to your own secret little cartoon obsession?

What animated character fascinates you to no end? Any you've taken to quoting or immitating voice-wise? (Don't tell me you've never "What's up Doc?"ed) After two gin-and-tonics I do a passable Elmer Fudd. I've been known to attempt others, but not without liquid encouragement or the sleep deprivation that accompanies deadline dementia.

Hey, a lot of us carry around a cartoon mascot in our heads.

Helen's Inspiration

When my daughter, Kelsey, was born I started making annual trips down to Chicago to visit my Grandparents. They were pretty old back then, in their eighties, so I didn’t figure I’d be making all that many trips. Dylan came along five years later, and I wasn’t even sure if he’d remember his great-grandparents, but it was important to me that he be given the opportunity. So I’ve continued the tradition through the years in spite of financial difficulties, bad weather, conflicting family responsibilities, kids athletic commitments, whatever.

There were many times during the long drives down and back that I’ve wondered about the sense of it all. I don’t wonder any more.

Grandpa died four years ago, shortly after turning 97. My grandparents were still living in their own home at the time, a home my kids remember about as well as I do. They remember playing cards with him at the kitchen table, messing with the controls on his bed and chair. Laughing with him, eating meals with him. Listening to a TV turned up about as loud as the volume would go. They remember Grandma’s spot on the couch, how she would fuss over Grandpa, how she’d wave good-bye out the front window as we drove away.

This past weekend Dylan and I took our annual pilgrimage to visit my Grandma for the first time without Kelsey. It was sad, but she had commitments we couldn’t work around. Now we visit Grandma in her assisted living facility (she couldn't stay in her own home without Grandpa), but it’s amazing how little assistance she really needs. Although she’ll be turning 100 in November, you’d never know it. She refused to walk with a walker or even a cane until about a month ago. She still takes all her own medicine, and, with congestive heart failure and high blood pressure, the schedule gets pretty complicated. She still pays her own bills, washes and irons her own clothes, and makes her own bed even though it takes her half an hour.

She’s amazing. My grandpa was amazing. They inspire me in ways it’s difficult to put down on paper. They’re stubbornness and determination, are things I think of all the time in reference to my writing. But as a romance writer in particular, they set an example that’s hard to find these days. Get this, my grandparents were married for 76 years.

Can you imagine? Seventy … six … years. These days making a twenty-fifth anniversary is a milestone. They weren’t the snippy, badgering kind of old couple you see on TV, but they weren’t perfect people either. Trust me. I couldn’t have lived with either one of them for half that long. Even so, they were sweet together. They adored one another, respected each other, were considerate in every possible way. They LOVED each other.

So when I’ve finished writing my romances, I take time to think about my hero and heroine and wonder whether they could possibly live as happily ever after as Grandma and Grandpa. If yes, I’ve done my job. If not, it’s time for revisions! Grandpa and Grandma keep me in line.

Do you have someone (or something) that inspires you, either in your personal, professional, or writing life? How does it makes a difference?

SEVEN DAYS OUT

MONDAY: Helen

WEDNESDAY: Burning Question
(Got a question? Shoot it to us!)

THURSDAY: Michele

FRIDAY: Candace

SATURDAY: Kathleen

SUNDAY: Susan

Fame and Fortune

Betina here.

Aniteb confronted me recently about my appalling lack of attention to Fame and Fortune. I like Fortune as much as the next guy, I protested. Fortune means money, right? Well I'll pit my shopahollic impulses against that Kinsella gal any day. It's the earning the fortune thing that's always been a little problematic for me. Not one to sully her thoughts with the sordid little practicalities of my life, Aniteb quickly turned her sights on the "Fame" part of the equasion.

How long has it been, she said-- clearly thinking of Michele's stellar interview performance the other day-- since you gave an interview? Roughly an ice age, I had to admit. So she took me by the ear and dragged me onto the internet. Said I needed a few lessons from some of her dear chums in Tinseltown.

Here's what I learned about acquiring FAME:

1. There is no "nice" in Famous. Fame clearly favors the Diva. Meryl Streep is brilliantly talented and generous. . . not "nice." Meg Ryan is perky and headstrong and adorable. . . not "nice." Tara Reid is wild and fun and reckless. . . not "nice." Even Betty White is "a real pro" and "a hoot to work with". . . not a hint of "nice." It works with other female celebrities, too. Name one. Name a hundred. Behind every one, you'll find ego, tantrums, demands, walk-outs, come-ons, envy, competitiveness, greed, insecurity, jealousy. . . not much room left for "nice.".
I am so screwed.

2. Fame is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration. You have to work at fame-- constantly. Put yourself out there. Rub elbows. And other body parts as necessary. See and be seen. Meet and greet. Charm and smarm. For even a whiff of fame, Hollywood types hire publicity TEAMS, publish glossies and distribute them by the truckload, have their hair, teeth, nails, boobs, butts, and noses made over. They get dyed, capped, stuffed, tucked, trained, and surgically carved into the human equivalent of Nutrasweet. . . all flavor, no substance. Even the true beauties always find something to angst about and work on. . . otherwise they'll feel left out!



And all of this remodeling takes money. Lots of it. And a real tolerance for pain and sleep deprivation. Also, the travel budget alone is staggering. And that's not to mention the clothes! I wouldn't have the time to coordinate outfits, even if I had the taste!
I am so screwed.

3. The famous develop a signature look and they stick to it while it's hot.



I just don't look this good in bandanas.
I am so screwed.

4. The famous adopt a special pose to strike whenever there is a camera around.

Makes me feel ancient and arthritic just looking at it.
I clearly don't have the bones or the chutspah for this kind of posing.



Then I realized. . . hey, I'm not in Hollywood or New York or even in the public eye. I go to work in shorts and teeshirts most days. And one of the reasons I enjoyed being a writer was the peculiarly anonymous sort of fame writers have. The attention is attached to a name not a face or body. I can still go to the supermarket in my shorts and flip flops (it's FLORIDA, folks!) and nobody notices or cares. That's my kind of fame. The down side is that if you remain too anonymous, you don't get read by people or make that lovely $$fortune$$ that makes life so comfortable.

Actually, Aniteb's diatribe did me some good. In viewing all of the craziness of the film and entertainment industry, I realized that I probably haven't been doing my share to promote myself, my writing, and my voice in publishing. I don't have to strut and strike poses or expose myself to the dreaded "trout pout" in order to have the kind of fame I want and need. I don't have to employ a Hollywood PR machine to make me well known or sell personal family photos and the scoop on my sexual habits to the highest bidder to keep the sharks at bay. But neither can I sit back on my duff and expect that in this competitive market my books will always shine on the shelves and that my name --one among increasing hundreds/thousands-- will immediately engender the passion to purchase.

What's the secret of your success? What bit of promotional genius are you most proud of?

Or which teen queen/starlet are you most sick of? (multiple choice)
a) Lindsay Lohan
b) Britany Spears
c) Jessica Simpson
d) Paris Hilton
e) Christina Aguleria
f) huh?

word cloud

this is pretty cool. you type in the blog URL and this site makes a word cloud from the blog text.

create a word cloud

NASCAR Anyone?

Posted by Helen Brenna

Will Ferrell. Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. This blog should practically write itself.

Then again. I’m after something specific here.

First off, let me say that Will Ferrell scares the begebbies out of me. Think Anchorman and Zoolander. (I have a twelve-year old son at home. I’m allowed, okay?) Ferrell’s comedy is so far out there I think most of us can’t reach it. I do, however, respect his ability to proudly parade around half naked with a body most women do not find attractive. Think very white and very hairy!

In spite of all that, I kinda liked the Ricky Bobby movie. It actually had a plot, it had character arcs. It was funny, and the acting was impeccable. Will Ferrell was perfect as Ricky Bobby, believable, and even likeable (after a while).

Will Ferrell aside, though, I’m wondering what everyone thinks of NASCAR.

The French family (Bill French is the founding father of modern day stock car racing) is trying to mainstream NASCAR. They want to make it America’s sport, not just a southern delight. Even Harlequin is jumping on the bandwagon. They’re rolling out the red carpet in 2007 with sixteen romances to be released in sets of four, starting with the Daytona 500 in February and ending with the Nextel Cup championship in November. Carl Edwards is spokesman and the authors will be signing at races.

I’m hoping they renew their licensing agreement for 2008 and buy my trilogy proposal. But I’m also curious. What does everyone think? Is NASCAR a fad? Or will it become a mainstream mainstay?

A Day in the Life of ...

Today, the Riders are taking a break from Wednesday's burning question and instead posting about our current works in progress. Like ... what we're working on today. Directly following this post, we'll be talking about looming deadlines and upcoming releases, book tours and contests, and whatever else is in the works.

If you have anything particular you'd like to address, please jump right in. We'd like to know what you're working on too!

Kathleen Typically Comes Late To the Party

I got to go riding yesterday. This picture was taken in May out in SD--didn't take one yesterday--but this is my Tennessee Walker, Star, who's spending the summer boarding nearby so I can take advantage of the weather. She's a nice, easy ride, but I usually wear a helmet. Gotta protect the source. This fall she'll go back to Indian Country for the winter.

I'm going out there too, probably in a few weeks. I'm going to try something other writers I know do fairly regularly--escape. My plan is to stay at the casino that figures into the story I'm working on and do nothing but write for a solid week. No, really write. I don't gamble. But I will soak up the ambiance. The casino isn't a big deal in the story, but Indian Country is. And I'm at the point where I need to wrap my whole head around this book and think of nothing else for an extended, uninterrupted bit of time. I know the main characters, and I'm excited about the relationships and the way I see things unfolding. But I need to focus focus focus. I know where Susie is in her process--writingwritingwriting to bring the project home--but I'm not there yet. I'm at focus focus focus.

The working title is MYSTIC HORSEMAN, and it's the sequel to RIDE A PAINTED PONY, my Nov28 release. Two very different books for two very different men. Nick Red Shield from RAPP is a loner. He's methodical, purposeful--the kind of guy you'd want in your foxhole. His partner, Dillon Black, is easy-going, charming,unpredictible. In RAPP we learn that Dillon burned his house down after his wife left him. I had to pick up that thread and find out where it leads. Now that I have some idea, I'm desperate for total immersion, at least for a week or so.

But it's tough when you're preparing some promotional stuff for the coming release--getting drafts of the video I'm having made (fun!) and sending comments back, writing blurbs for this and articles for that. Attended a chapter Board meeting last night. Getting a lot of grandmothering in on a daily basis. It's all good, but it's distracting.

So I'm planning an escape. Soon, very soon...

Riding with the top down

Susie reports her day:

DEADLINE.

writingwritingwritingwritingwritingwritingwritingwriting . . . . . . . .

Lois Greiman's Unlife

What am I working on? Excellent question.

I think I'm supposed to be writing a book--the third in my Men of the Mist series. But it had to be set aside for revisions on Unscrewed, which had to be set aside for my son's wedding preparations, which had to be set aside for a delivery of ragdoll kittens.

That's right, kittens...which were unexpectedly born in a box of Christmas decorations. I found them at 6 am wound up in lights and their own umbilical cords. Not good. Sigh. I messed up. Hope they're okay. So now I'm off to tend babies. I'd show you a picture of them but they look like white baby rats, so I'll post a pic of their fuzzy older siblings and hope everyone's day goes a little better because of it. Sigh. Is everyone's life this weird?