Lois Announces a Contest Winner!

We’ve got a winner. Two winners in fact.

First of all, I’d like to congratulate Pearl! She’s the winner of the colored crystal liqueur set I’m giving away to celebrate the release of UNSCREWED. I need your address, Pearl, so I can send your gift--email me at lgreiman@earthlink.net.

Second, thank you all for entering my little ‘Who is Rivera’ contest. It was tons of fun. Lots of people chimed. Which brings us to our other winner…

Antonio Banderas. He was the man voted most likely to be Lieutenant Jack Rivera’s look-alike. (Although Clive Owen was a close second.) So…in honor of Zorro…and for your viewing pleasure…here he is in living color in Take the Lead, Original Sin, Shrek J , 13^th Warrior, Desperado, and Zorro.

So which of his alter-egos do you prefer?

Gay Romance--Amazon Made Me Do It!

Background: I grew up 25 miles south of San Francisco. Once every month throughout junior and senior years in high school we were bused in the morning into “The City” and debarked with theater tickets hot in our hands. We were set free on the streets and were on our honor to make it to our seats for the 2 p.m. start of the play…or at least for the bus leaving at 4 p.m. for home.

We made good use of our freedom and this suburban girl saw big city stuff that surely opened my eyes…

And yet I was still voted “Most Naïve” in the high school senior poll. (As well as “Least Changed” at my ten-year reunion.)

Back to the present: So Amazon.com sends me those e-mails, you know the ones, “We noticed you bought Writers on Writing and think you also might like this fascinating new book, Collecting Ceramic Ashtrays." I’m always a bit amused by what Amazon thinks I also might like.

Similar suggestions occur when I go to their site. The page will open with books I recently viewed and then suggests other books I might like to view too. Sometimes I get curious and click away, which takes me to other interesting books which takes me to yet other interesting books, and the next thing I know I’m at wikipedia trying to figure out why I know the name Daniel Ellsberg.

Anyway…the other day I was viewing the page for a romance novel and it said 70% of the people who viewed this also viewed Love’s Sweet Flower by Alice Author (okay, making up title and writer, but the rest is true). So, hmm, I don’t recognize the name, but I’m procrastinating, so I click over and…oh. Pretty cover. Pretty heroine. Two pretty heroines. Oh. This is a lesbian romance. But, after a moment of wonder about the popularity of this particular sub-genre, I’m feeling very ho-hum about it. The lesbian romance thing doesn’t capture my interest.

I’m starting to click back when I see another one of those “People who viewed this book…” and there’s another book title and the authors “Scott & Scott.” Hmm. I click over to that. Hah. A gay male couple write romance novels together. And the story line appears to be wonderful romance fare—one character a “stuffed shirt” and the other a free spirit with amnesia. What’s not to like? And I realize I do like it. I really want to read this book…

Here you should picture me, Ms. Naïve, kind of sitting up in her chair and feeling a bit…well, daring. Adventurous. Like Cindy was encouraging us to be yesterday. I’m no vanilla chick any longer! I want to read a gay male romance novel!

Except then I realize something else. I’m not interested because of the titillation factor. Then the lesbian romance would have caught more of my attention. I’m interested in this book because what I’m intrigued by is people falling in love--and I know how women fall in love, because I am one. This book promises deeper insight into how men fall in love.

So it’s not my chili-pepper hot sense of adventure that drove me to put Razor Burn in my shopping cart. It’s the heterosexual romance novelist in me. I’m still just a woman writer fascinated by romantic relationships and by men.

So has amazon taken you down any interesting roads? I’m not the only one, surely!

I WON'T GROW UP - YOU CAN'T MAKE ME

Cindy says: Once a year whether I need to or not I plan on making a fool of myself – not to be confused with the times I do it by accident. 2006’s planned event occurred last summer at RWA Nationals in an Atlanta sports bar where a bunch of us had just ordered Margaritas. My 'friend' - let's call her Kim because that's her name - motioned behind me and says: "Fifty bucks if you can get that guys' name, room number and a date."

Now let’s get something straight up front. I’m a grandmother and a happily married woman so naturally, after checking the guy out I said: “Let me finish this drink and you’re on.” It wasn't just a bet, people. It was a DARE. And this woman rarely backs away from a dare. So, five minutes later, fortified by tequila and stupidity, I made my move. But not before Kim said: “You can’t tell him it’s a bet or the bet’s off.” “Fine,” I said, shook her hand and headed for my mark.

“Hi,” I said to Mr Gorgeous and slipped onto the stool next to him. He, on the other hand, said nothing - even though his mouth dropped open. “Don’t panic,” I said – because clearly he was on the verge. “I’m here on a bet.” There is no honor among thieves, after all, and we were out of voice range of Kim. So I told him about the $50 bucks on the line. He thought it was hysterical and played along. I played the mom card to get him relaxed and we talked about his kids, my grandkids all the while making fake goo goo eyes at each other and I assured him that all romance writers weren’t this immature. Then I shoved a napkin toward him, gave him a pen and told him to write down a 4 digit number, any 4 digit number, and asked him to please just stop by my table when he left and say, “see you later.”

Triumphant, I returned to my table. I slapped down the napkin and smirked. “Here’s his room number and I’m seeing him later tonight.” Dumbfounded, Kim shook her head and dug into her purse. “Forget it,” I said. “I owe you. This is going to be the best night of my life. You guys can come too if you want to.”

“You’re not serious!” my other friend – let’s call her Rox because that’s her name - went into shock, wondering if Kim and I had actually crossed the line this time. (You guessed it, this wasn’t the first time we’d pulled a stupid stunt.)

About that time, over strolls Mr Gorgeous, stops at our table, touches a hand to my shoulder and says, “Orgy’s at 11:00, Miss Cindy. See you then.” And then, bless him, he winked and sauntered away.

Rox went ten shades of pale, Kim shook her head and I basked in the glow of my victory. Yeah, and an hour (and about $50 worth of margaritas) later I confessed to telling him about the bet. Immature I may be but I’m honest to a fault.

Was it a juvenile stunt? You damn betcha. Was it fun? And then some. Could it have been embarrassing?

Well, yeah. Could we have laughed any harder?

I don’t think so. And the next day did I hear myself repeatedly saying: “I can’t believe I did that.” Yep. My hubby can’t believe I did it either but he still grinned when I told him the story.

So I guess the point is (and there really is a point), sometimes it’s good to put yourself out there, do something foolish, have a good laugh and quit taking yourself so seriously.

Anybody do that lately? Anyone have any silly, immature, “I can’t believe I did that” stories they’d like to share? Hummm? Or am I out here on this quaking limb all by myself?

Those Caramel Things, by Susie

I don't have a lot of heirloom recipes. Both my grandmothers were farm wives. Which means they cooked meat until it was good and dead, and vegetables until they were almost unrecognizable. They were both fabulous with pickles and yeast breads. The pickles are too much work (me, can?) and the yeast breads . . . well, I tried, even with their recipes, and I just don't have the touch. I've finally decided that the reason theirs tasted so much better than any I've had in years had something to do with the fact that the milk and butter came straight from the cows. It makes me sad, though, that my kids will never get a chance to taste them.

I don't cook like my mother, either. Even my mother doesn't cook like she used to, now that she has ready access to things like fresh ginger and salmon, which simply weren't stocked in our small town grocery stores.

There are two recipes of hers, however, that I'll never give up. One is meatloaf, which my 9 year old just asked last week to teach him how to make, so he can make it for his kids someday. The other is her caramel bars, a recipe I think she got from another woman in her church and which are, in a word, legendary.

In college, when she sent me a pail of them, I had to make sure to be home when the mailman arrived, or the entire ice cream bucket was demolished before I had a chance to hide any. (I lived in a house with five other girls, smack dab between a house that held a good chunk of the offensive line and the Farmhouse fraternity. I swear they could smell food from half a campus away.)

They've made an appearance in an article in the RWR by Eloisa James, and I"m pretty sure they're showing up in Connie Brockway's next book. And there are at least a couple of books out there that I am sure would never have been conceived if the writers hadn't been under the influence of sugar.

I don't make them often because, well, if I make them, I eat them. I dug out the recipe this week because a batch of young people who work for my husband have decided they must have a Guitar-Hero-II-off, and ours is apparently the appropriate house to hold it. If there's one thing I know how to feed, it's young people bent on gaming a night away. Since these are (kind of) actual grown-ups, I imagine there'll be cheap beer in the fridge by the Mountain Dew, but I'm certain the two basic food groups are still sugar and caffeine.

I've got the sugar covered.

Those Caramel Things:

Filling:
1 pkg. caramels, preferably Kraft
1 can sweetened condensed milk ( the regular sized can)
2 tablespoons butter (spring for the real thing - this isn't the time to skimp!)

Crust:
1/2 c. butter
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/4 c. flour
1 1/2 c. oatmeal (I've never used steel cut, but any other kind I've ever used works fine)
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla
1 egg, beaten

Toppings: 1 c. chocolate chips, 1 c. cashews (okay, maybe a little more)

Preheat oven to 350. Mix the first six crust ingredients (butter through baking soda - I melt the butter, just to make it easy, but you can do it with softened). Mix in the vanilla and egg. Reserve about 3/4 c. of the crust mixture; pat the rest into a 9 X 13 pan and bake about ten minutes, until light brown.

Meanwhile, make the caramel filling. You just melt all the caramels, the butter, and the condensed milk together, either in a double bowler or a big bowl in the microwave. (I think the mic. is easier.) Note: peeling the caramels is an EXCELLENT task for young fingers, though be prepared to lose a few caramels on the way. Not that I ever sneak any.)

Pour the filling over the browned crust. Sprinkle with chocolate chip and cashews, then crumble the rest of the oatmeal mixture over it. Bake another ten minutes or so, until lightly brown. (If you bake too long the caramel gets hard!)

That's it.
Don't say I didn't warn you.

Susie

Jay Gilbertson (part 2): Place-how does it shape you?

Something that’s become more and more important for me as a writer is place. When I write, I have such a clear vision of where my story is taking place. I can see it, smell it, practically touch it.

Is that important to you?

When you write, are you there? I often feel that my characters are in the other room, about to come in and join me. Much of my series takes place out on the dock. A favorite thing of mine is to sit on the end of the dock, dangle my bare feet off the edge and splash around a bit. Connects me to the earth.

Have you a favorite thing to do that connects you?

Here’s some pictures, a few are of our farm…we live on an eighty-acre piece of heaven. There’s a pond, several springs and tons of woods to knock around in. My office window looks out to the fields and beyond. It’s truly inspires me.

Jay Gilbertson (part 1): Water--Bottles. Why?

First of all, a big ‘Thank You’ to Lois Greiman for inviting me along for a road-trip with all this talent. Congratulations to every one of you—this is one tough business and I’m just so darn happy to be in it.

I have no idea where to sit though? Maybe every so often we could just pull over, stretch a bit, consider the risks of having a smoke; not lighting up and then I could move about the car a bit?

One thing I’m bringing along is my trusty water bottle, oh, it’ not the fancy schmancy fresh-from-the-store kind. This thing has been with me a l-o-n-g time. Why you ask? Turn down MPR and let’s chat a bit…

First off, I’m happy to say (puffed up chest and all) that I’ve just finished the third novel in my ‘Madeline Island Series,’ now we just have to sell it! What this series has allowed me to do, is express a lot of the things that I personally believe in.

One issue my characters are constantly fussing with, seeing as they live on an island and all, is just where does all the things we ‘throw away’ go? Where is ‘away?’ Which brings me to the water bottle issue.

The Midwest has some of the best drinking water anywhere—why do so few folks actually drink it? I do, been drinking it for years. So, I propose a contest-like-question. The winner will receive an autographed copy of my second novel, “Back to Madeline Island” as well as their very own re-useable water bottle.

What could be more useful on the road? Hmmm?

Here’s the question:

• How many million barrels of oil are used a year to keep Americans in bottled water? That’s millions!

Speaking of water - when’s the next rest stop anyway? And would anyone care to share a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup with me? I brought along enough to share and who doesn’t need a little protein on the road, eh?

C’mon—let’s go!

Omm..........

Ah, that was nice. A breather. Just do it with me: Ahhhhh..... Yep, just take today to breathe. For just a moment, feel your breath going in and out...

Okay, so that's my excuse for not having a blog topic for today. Everyone needs a breather now and then, and let's all just be good to ourselves today, okay? Promise me you'll do something good for yourself today!

So, in keeping this blog simple, I'm going to do a little Tour Guide Barbie thing to point out all our new features—but first! We have a Birthday Girl in the house! Happy Birthday, Lois! I made a cake just for you...
(She's a horse lover. I worked on it all night. Erm...at least finding the pic of it.)

Now! On to the tour. I just want to point out all the stuff we've been moving around lately. We've been cleaning out the glove compartment, playing around with the cup holders, and well, the rule is the driver gets to control the radio, so today the tunes are Elvis, and he's crooning Happy Birthday to our gal.

So, Tour Guide Barbie points to the right and asks you to look at the Contest heading. Oh yeah, a contest. And it's really easy. You just click and fill out some info, then you're entered to win. Books from all of us! Go ahead, click on it. I'll wait...

Did you enter? Good!

Next on our tour is the Coming Attractions. We want you all to know who we're featuring as guests in the coming weeks, so you can mark your calendars and not miss a thing.

And just below that is the Bookstore. Have you clicked on that yet? Do it! Just give it a try. It's really fun. We've got a single page that lists all the Riders' latest releases. And, if you're interested in checking out one or more of us, we've also got individual author pages with our backlists. Fun, eh?

Whoa! Did you hear that horn? Someone's honking at us. Oh wait. It's just us, tooting our own horns. We've always got something to toot about, so we're going to start listing that on the sidebar as well.

Next, you'll find our websites, because we all do fun stuff on our own once we hop out of the backseat. And then there are links to sites we like.

So do it again. Breathe.

Have a great day, and remember, you have to do one thing for yourself. You deserve it.

Michele

Oh! let out that breath. Okay, good. (You were starting to turn a little blue.)

Betina's Secret Life. . . Revealed

Ever found yourself at a cocktail party where you hardly know anyone and everyone seems intent on intimidation? So-and-so has just been promoted to managing partner of a Big Eight accounting firm, the guy on your right has just been tapped to be Ambassador of Lichenstein, and the woman looking down her nose at your Liz Claiborne best is the editorial director of "W?" Well truthfully, neither have I. But in case I do find myself in that position, I am prepared. Following the advice of a Glamour magazine article I clipped a generation or two ago. . . I intend to lie my butt off.

Yes, yes. I can hear the creaking of spines as my fellow riders shake their heads in dismay. But truly, a well crafted and patently outrageous lie will sometimes do what no amount of earnestness and self revelation can. . . allow you to have a good time under extreme circumstances.

I've had my "big lie" in the holding pen for. . . um. . . a few years now. And at the rate I'm going, I'll probably still be holding it when I reach the Pearly Gates. (And I do not mean Bill's maiden aunt.) So here it is:

This woman. . . the queen of the mud flaps and the object of universal trucker lust. . .



is me.

It's true. In my youth, I had a brief, somewhat harrowing episode as a silhouette model. It was the same, sad old story: I met a guy in a campus bar and after a few too many diet-and-whatevers, he took me back to his place and put up a sheet and turned on a light. I giggled my way through that first degrading session. . . confusing being ogled and outlined with the beginnings of true love. Soon he was plying me with spiked Tab and Jimi Hendricks music. When I couldn't hold myself up any more, he propped me up and sprayed my hair stiff to get a few more silhouettes out of me. Then he took me back to my dorm and pushed me out of the car, and sped away.

I had no way of knowing he was a fly-by-night graphics dealer posing as an art student. He was slick-- I'll give him that. He realized right away that he had a potential gold mine on his hands. He began selling my silhouettes to cheesy print shops and rubber auto accessory manufacturers. Imagine my shock when I was driving down the highway with my respectable fiance three years later and looked up to find my silhouette-- my precious, innocent art-- decorating the mud flaps of a tractor trailer filled with Smack Ramen Noodles! And suddenly they were everywhere!

Now, as successful author, I've finally made peace with it. Sometimes, when I hit a truck stop by the interstate and see myself reclining all over those trucks' federally mandated mud flaps, I feel a small spot of warmth in my stomach. I have indeed made a difference in the world. . .

Cough, cough.

The advantage of this particular "big lie" is its versatility. I can change the story to include a number of sessions comprising a whirlwind affair-- so as not to seem too cheap. I can also claim that it was MY art-- that I produced quite a few silhouettes, which I misguidedly sold to a duplicitous art gallery owner. I can play the wounded "artiste." "There are a number of mud flaps that I'm very proud of. . ."

The aim of the "Big Lie" is entertainment in the face of stultifying boredom or staggering one-upmanship. Not to be taken seriously. . . until you're too old and too senile to remember that it's a "big lie" and you just begin to believe and enjoy it as the truth!


What about you? Don't you think it's about time you invented an alternative past for yourself? Or maybe several? With a writer's imagination, you ought to be able to come up with something really good! Care to share?

Take the Sexy Survey

Yeah, I know, we all say we just want a nice guy with a good sense of humor who cleans up after himself, but I write romance novels and ‘relationship mysteries’ and I’ve been wondering lately what women really want. You know…on a gut (or lower) level. Hence the following survey. So help me out folks. Hop on in here, take the survey (vote 1-10 in each of the 5 categories) or just tell us what or who rings your bell.

THE SEXY SURVEY:
Example--if you prefer the dark and dangerous type like Denzel Washington vote 1. If you’re way into the fair, English type of gent, vote 10. But if you’re somewhere in between, just pick a number. This is for science ladies so be honest. (I’m kidding, I’m about as scientific as a toothpick.) But I am still collecting names from our devoted readers to win the end of the month prize, so chime in.

A. Coloring:
1 (Denzel dark) -------------------------------------10 (Fair Law--that’s Jude Law)

B. Height:
1 (Short--think Cruise, not Tinkerbell )--------------10 (Leggy like Liam Neeson)

C. Age:
1 (Baby Bloom)--------------------------------------10 (Sean Connery--aging but still Sean)

D. Hair:
1 (Long--remember Val Kilmer in Willow?)----------10 (Bruce Willis Bald)

E. Refinement
1. (Pretty like Pierce)--------------------------------10 (Rugged like Rocky)

Odd but interesting facts about above-mentioned men:

Sylvester Stallone (Rocky, Rambo) was the product of a forceps birth which severed a facial nerve and paralyzed the lower left side of his face, producing his signature sneer. He spent his first five years in Hell’s Kitchen, bouncing from foster home to foster home and was voted ‘most likely to end up in the electric chair’. He acted in an all nude off Broadway play called Score before hitting it big with Rocky.

Liam Neeson (Rob Roy, Star Wars-Phantom Menace) was born in Ballymena, Northern Ireland, stands 6’4” in his stocking feet, was a pugilist until a blackout kept him from the ring. He’s dated Julia Roberts, Brooke Shields, and Barbra Streistand, probably not all at the same time.

Orlando Bloom (The Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean) has dyslexia and didn’t know who his real father was until later in life. In 1998 he broke his back after falling three stories. Thank God he didn’t hurt anything important. Like his face.

Sean Connery (every film ever made) was born in 1930. In 1949 he became a nude model for Edinburgh Art College. Forty years later he was voted Sexiest Man Alive to which he commented, “Well there aren’t very many sexy dead men, are there?”

So ladies, as Victoria Secret says, “What’s sexy?”

Guess Who. . . plus one

Can you guess the Rider? Okay, okay, I'll help you guys out here. Put them in order: Helen, Michele, Lois, Cindy and Kathy. And one late rider. . . if you've guessed the others, can you guess the last one?





Cute, huh?

So, who's the latecomer?

Kathleen asks: Which Road's Paved With Good Intentions?

I'm late! It's not noon yet, though, so here I go. It's January, and it feels like I've been blogging my brains out this month, but I still haven't really put my 2007 intentions out there for all the world to see, thereby carving my commitments in stone. I have terminal "good girl" syndrome, you see. Will work for approval. Give me a gold star, an A, a little plastic trophy and I'm in for a pound. So declaring my intentions is a biggie.

2006 was a difficult year for me, but I succeeded in more ways than I realized. Last Saturday I attended the first Midwest Fiction Writers meeting I'd been to in several months. Mainly I was there because months ago I'd agreed to give the program, so even though I was hacking with a horrible cold and dangerously contagious, I dragged myself out and kept my promise. Good girls, after all, grow up to be super women, at least in their own minds. So there I am, spreading germs and wisdom in the same breath, and our new Veep who's running the meeting takes out a list of declared intentions for 2006, to which a whole bunch of us had signed on exactly a year ago. I'd forgotten about it, but, lo and behold, I've achieved my goal! Finished the WIP (and I was way behind when I made that declaration) in record time and I've written 200 pages of the current WIP. Woo-hoo! Our dear Veep presented me with a certificate right then and there. I felt all warm and happy. No kidding. I made my writing goal and my weight goal. Maybe 2006 wasn't as bad as I thought.

So now I'm psyched for 2007. Because 2006 really was tough in many ways, and frankly by December I was feeling pretty overwhelmed. I thought the chest was empty. But like Pandora, I finally took a moment to look into the bottom of the box, and there lies hope in the form of a couple of gold stars. Silly gold stars.

Heck, I can use those! I've gotten healthier. I resolve to keep my health on the front burner. Eat right, get back into the exercise swing, take what I learned in '06 and work it, girl, work it. I resolve to finish the WIP in a timely matter AND kick the quality up a notch. I've reached the point (at 200 pages) where I see what the story is really about and I know the characters well. I know the potential. It's my job to fulfill the promise.

Here's something I wasn't thinking about so much this time last year, but I am now, so for 2007 I'm resolving to live by the Serenity Prayer. It's dawning on me (for probably the bazillionth time in my life) that the philosophy at the heart of that prayer is the key to keeping me sane. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

I'm a control freak, you see. For me, that's part of being a "good girl." I have this obsession with getting ducks in a row. Everybody's ducks. When the going gets tough, the good girl/control freak starts herding ducks. Exercise in futility. I swear, I'll end up flat on my ass with both feet in my mouth and I'm still trying to herd ducks. It only works if you're the mother duck and the ducklings are still ducklings. And even then....

I understand that goals must be achievable, and even though I won't be able to measure this one in pages or pounds, I know what kind of results I'm looking for. I've seen the top of Mount Serenity a time or two. I know what it looks like and how I feel when I'm there.

So this year I'm going to concentrate on my own personal ducks. I'm going to leave other people's ducks alone. Let me know if my ducks get in your way and I'll take care of them. If you need me to supply one of my ducks (how far can I take this little cliche?) for something--to feed hungry children or whatever--just ask. I reserve the right to say no, but you can always wave the gold star at me. You want me to bring my ducks over for a playdate with your ducks? That can be arranged. Joint efforts are good. But from where the sun now stands (and it's shining today in Minnesota!) I shall stop trying to apply my idea of order to all the ducks in the pond. I'm just not that powerful. And I don't even want to be!

Anybody else care to share any personal improvement goals for the year?

Debra: That's affirmative.

(Trust me on the title of this blog and seemingly contradictory "no" symbol. I'll get these two together. Eventually.)


Being a writer is a lot like standing around in your underwear during the spring and waiting for people to tell you what's wrong with your winter body. ::shudder::

Putting yourself, your words, your ideas "out there" that first time takes tremendous courage. Or a lovely naive belief that the only truth you'll hear will be the yummy ooh's and ah's of the folks reading your perfect prose.


::longgggggg...pause::


What? Oh! Sorry! I drifted off into a daydream filled with ooh's and ah's and nary a no. But I digress. Let me get back to my point.

As a career, writing will pretty much kick naive's butt into shape every time. Truth hurts; so you have to train for it. Writers , even multi-published, love-my-career authors still have to deal with rejection and revision and the awful truths that begin with-- "Well... "

We all know that nothing good ever comes after the word "well." Seriously, has anyone ever heard Ed McMahon say, "Well... you've won Publisher's Clearing House."

No. He says, "Well... you lost. You won't be back on Star Search."

Any writer on earth will tell you that the dreaded "Well... " is never a good start to a conversation with your editor. I thought I'd share my favorite rejection and favorite revision conversation with you.

This was my rejection on a proposal from my editor of many books back when she was with Bantam.

"Well, it's a good story. It's just not Debra Dixon enough."
Huh??
My response: "Are you saying you'd buy this story from someone else?"
Her: "Yeah. Probably."
Me: "But not from me."
Her: "No. You can do better."

I am not kidding you. True story.

Now for my favorite revision request. This is something a friend said when trying to describe what it feels like when her editor calls to talk to her about a new book. "Well, we love the book. It's one of your best cosy mysteries ever. But do you think you could make it into a Christmas story about a shark?"

Sometimes writers think we have to be nuts to be in this business. Sure, there are many wonderful things about this gig, but you have to deal with clinical dissection of your creative soul. You have to figure out how to get past that, how to keep the good and turn the negative into something that pushes you forward instead of holding you back.

One of the tricks to doing that is affirmation. Yep, that whole mind-body-spirit mumbo jumbo hooha, positive thinking nonsense. Turns out it's not so much nonsense as sense.

If you're not familiar with affirmations, they are short, personal mantras that remind you of things you forget, things that are valuable and important to your happiness and success.

"My story, my voice is energized by new viewpoints."

"I plot in unexpected ways."

"I am creatively original in everything I do."

"Writing is a joy and more fun than a corporate job."

"Nora will get tired of writing eventually."

Oh, wait, that last one shouldn't be on the list. My bad. But you get the point.

Some friends of mine have these affirmations:

"Writing feeds my soul."
"The journey is as important as the destination."
"I write quickly and love what I'm writing."

If you've never tried affirmations to reprogram your brain and flip on your "Can Do" switch. Give it a try. Tape them to your computer and start every day with a quick mental reminder of what you can accomplish and how you are special. If you need examples of affirmations for different areas of your life try: Personal Affirmations

Anyone got any favorite affirmations, rejections or revision stories?

Another New Rider

Riding around with the top down isn't as much fun without a little California sunshine, so we've squeezed one more Rider into the backseat.

Please welcome Christie Ridgway!

Christie is the USA Today bestselling author of 20 plus books for Avon and Silhouette, the most recent being the December release, NOT ANOTHER NEW YEAR'S. Her first day to blog is scheduled for Tuesday, January 30th, so stay tuned.

It's getting crowded in the convertible, so I'm going to guess this is it. But then, you just never know.

Welcome, Christie!

Jay Gilbertson Guest Blogs Next Week!

And don't forget Jay Gilbertson's coming for a visit next Thursday, January 25th.

I'm sure we're all going to be fighting over who gets to sit next to our first guy guest!

Cindy: On a lighter note ....

Hi gang. Cindy here. Being the new kid on the block (metaphorically speaking) I didn’t get a chance to wish everyone happy holidays as I wasn’t ‘officially’ on board until now. So please indulge me while I introduce you to a glimpse of life in the Gerard household and offer my late holiday greetings.

Beside, I’m in the mood for Christmas – now that I MADE my deadline – well almost. I was only 3 days late so that’s like the 3 second rule, right? If you drop a cookie on the floor and pick it up within 3 seconds, it doesn’t count as a drop and you can eat it. So I figure my 3 day deadline delay doesn’t count as a delay at all. But then, I never got ‘new math’ so what do I know.

But back to Christmas. I’m in the mood because winter finally hit the heartland. Almost makes me want to get all the decorations out again that took me ALL day to put away yesterday. (Someone, please talk some sense into me!!)

This ‘mood’ all came about because our first snow of the season finally arrived in Iowa, very unusual for it to come so late. Not that I’m complaining. But a snowfall like this one - unlike what those poor people have been experiencing west of here – is beautiful. Pristine and white and new – for the new year.

This is what I see when I look out my sunroom window today – that’s Hoot and Too Tall taking a snooze in the midday sun. These are just two of our ‘herd’ of quarter horses and in case you are wondering, no. I don’t ride. I leave that to my hubby. Me, I just take pictures and pet them.

Speaking of pets, we’ve always had dogs – read sofa slugs – but have never been cat people. Until last year, that is, when two very enterprising barn cats discovered the doggie door and invited themselves into canine territory. It made for some interesting hissing matches at first but we soon settled in to a cat/dog household.
And yes, we are now converts. We love those two little critters and can’t imagine life without them. That's Buddy playing Where's Waldo in a basket full of stuffed toys shortly after he made himself a part of the family.

That's Sly in his favorite perch in the middle of my little Christmas


village. How he managed to get in there every night and not tip over a single piece I'll never know.

And last but not least, here's our Ellie. Now, this is HER bed but notice who 's taking up the lion's share of the cushy pillow???

Okay, enough with the animals. You now have a brief glimpse of life at the animal house. I'm sure many of you have an animal house of your own.
We'd love to hear about them.

Until next time, to all of you who have resolved to lose some weight during the new year (like Moi) I hope it's going 'off' well.:o)
Cindy

Suicide

posted by Helen

If you’re looking for a laugh please don’t read this blog. I can promise you nothing funny, light-hearted, or entertaining today. I’m not even sure why I’m writing this, other than to try and somehow appease this intense need I have to share or, lets be honest, to vent.

One of my daughter’s closest friends committed suicide last week.

I knew him, not well, but through the years he’d been to our house more times than I can count, This is what I can tell you about him.

He was well known and loved at his school. He was the class clown with a large group of friends, not a depressed and isolated loner. He was five months from graduating from high school, five months from starting a new and wonderful journey. He was smart, normally did well in school and had already been accepted at a large university. He had some problems and had made mistakes through the years, as many kids do, but he had a kind heart. He had a mother and father and two older brothers who loved him and will miss him terribly.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I’ve suffered from depression in the past and understand more than I’d like about what this young man might have been going through. So I wish I’d known him better. I wish I’d known him well enough to reach out and help him understand that life is full of options. I wish I could have helped him understand that no one is ever truly alone and that no matter how bad things get, there is someone out there who cares.

Were there signs? In hindsight, yes, but they were subtle. No one had a clue that this fun, smiling young man was in so much pain. After reading a little about suicide, I have the feeling that many of our teenagers are suffering in silence.

Did you know that one in thirteen high school students will attempt suicide this year? Suicide is the third leading cause of death for 15-24 years olds. And if you have a gun in your home? You’re five times more likely to have a suicide in your house. Girls think about and attempt suicide twice as often as boys. Their methods of choice are cutting themselves or overdosing. Boys, on the other hand, are four times more successful in their attempts to kill themselves, possibly because they choose more lethal methods, such as guns, hanging and jumping from heights.

I think, too, that boys are less likely to reach out for help, less likely to talk about what’s going on in their lives. So many teenagers, boys and girls alike, feel alone in this world. I don’t care if they have long purple hair or bleached spikes, whether they’re cocky or shy, whether they’re the cheerleader, the track star, or the loner, whether their jeans are so tight you couldn’t squeeze a cell phone into their back pocket, or riding so low on their hips you know what brand of boxers they’re wearing, they’re still just kids, trying to find their way.

My parents had a hard time connecting with my long hair, rock and roll, pot-smoking generation, but have we done one worse for our own children? Have we given up? We throw cars and iPods and cell phones at them and send them off into a world so much more frightening than the one from our childhood. Have we turned our backs on this pierced and tattooed generation?

I don’t know the answers. But I’m reminded of something Robert Downey, Jr., a man who’s had more than his share of issues, said in an interview on Inside the Actor’s Studio. “A person can live through anything as long as he lives.”

Here are some links. Maybe we can make a difference.

http://www.focusas.com/Suicide.html
http://www.kidshealth.org/parent/emotions/behavior/suicide.html

http://www.aacap.org/page.ww?name=Teen+Suicide&section=Facts+for+Families

Anne Frasier posted this in a comment, but I'm putting it up here. If you or anyone you know needs help, call the 24/7 suicide hotline. 1-800-784-2433

The New Kathleen, Opinionated As Ever

So here's the new hair. Got 'er done last weekend. I went a little warmer on the color--guess we upped the lowlights or something. Wearing the new jeans we got during the shopping excursion I described in my Romance By the Blog outing on Wednesday. Actually struck this pose for Michelle's blog, but she used a different photo--one of the shopping excursion showing the "after" body but the "before" hair. Kinda like:
Okay, in case you missed it, here's the "before" body, almost exactly one year and 50 pounds ago:
Yes, that's a rope, and, no, I wasn't that depressed. Off to the left is an Indian cowboy on a mechanical horse showing me he can still drop a loop over me just as delicately as you please. This was taken on the Big Island of Hawaii, where we celebrated 35 years of marriage. The picures spoke to me, and I made the New Year's vow shortly thereafter. The keys to my success: less eating, less eating out, less food on the plate, less food in the fridge, and more exercise. And I really had to go cold turkey on the sugar.

Okay, you've heard enough on that subject, but I did want to finish the hair story with an "after" photo.

What I really want to offer today is a follow-up to Michele's Best and Worst lists with some of my thoughts.

First, BEST DVDs I'VE RENTED LATELY:
An Inconvenient Truth - should be required viewing for all human beings. I put it off because I thought I'd have to be in the mood for a lecture. Wrong. I found it riveting.
Lady In the Water - liked the setup, wish the storytelling had lived up to what was really a promising concept. Originality and Paul Giamatti held my interest.
Little Miss Sunshine - wonderful! Cast, characters, script--it's all good.
The Devil Wears Prada - Streep is great
The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada - Great redemption story, love Tommy Lee Jones and Barry Pepper (the sharpshooter in "Saving Private Ryan")
The Libertine - Michele and I have discussed this one and I totally disagree with her. Johnny Depp is great as always and this is just a fascinating historical piece (Restoration England) with the main characters loosely based on real people.

TWO OF THE WORST: Talledega Nights and The Pacifier. Don't know how they got into my house. The former is a one trick pony, and the trick is lame. The latter--I wanted to see who this Vin Diesel was. Now I know.

BEST MOVIES I'VE SEEN IN THE THEATER LATELY:

Children of Men - Clive Owen (yes!) and a very chilling bit of futurism
Flags Of Our Fathers - can't wait to see the flip side in Letters From Iwo Jima
Bobby - a big event in my life, good script, good cast
The Good Shepherd - length didn't bother me, found it engrossing, beginning to end
Babel - very well written, good performances
Stranger Than Fiction - quirky, but what can I say? I'm a writer.
Dream Girls - great cast, loved the Broadway feel, loved the music

I agree with Michele on Marie Antoinette--great costumes and set decoration, definitely worth seeing on the big screen, but imo not as interesting as The Libertine.

Gotta say Sly had me cheering for ol' Rocky again in Rocky Balboa. I figure if he can still run up the steps of the Philly Museum of Art, I can still do aerobics to "Eye of the Tiger."

But I thought The Holiday was mediocre. I was most interested in Cameron Diaz's hair. I'm not a big what's-his-babyface fan. But Jack Black was quite sweet.

NEW ALBUM:

The only one I've bought recently is the new Beatles "Love." I'm such a Boomer. If you haven't given this a listen, do. George Martin remixed from original tapes--took pieces from differnt songs and put them together seamlessly with Paul and Ringo's blessing. Good stuff!

What have you seen or heard lately that you can recommend or warn against? Am I on target with these picks or all wet?

What were your favs?

Last year I started a list of 'Movies I See', both in the theatre and on DVD. I'm thinking about doing a book list as well this year. Actually, I downloaded a great spread sheet form for books, but I've already lost it on my computer.

So here's my entertainment recap for 2006.

Top Five Movies of 2006

The Prestige - Two handsome men, a plot that requires you to return (eagerly) to the theatre to watch it again)
Marie Antoinette - 18th century costume drama. Clothes, shoes, pastries, purse puppies, frigid sex.
The Holiday - this one made me fall back in love with Jude, and pine for an English cottage
Casanova - Heath rocks! This was a cute movie that had me smiling
Inside Man - the non-violent robbery that had me questioning the movie for days after. Loved it.

Worst Movie of 2006

Tie between The LIbertine and The Break-Up - Johnny and Vince at their worst


Top Five Reads of 2006

Peter Pan In Scarlet - Geraldine McCraughrey - My favorite read is Peter Pan. The sequel does it justice!
A Hunger Like No Other - Kresley Cole - erotica, gorgeously sensual vampires and werewolves. Nummy!
A Dirty Job - Christopher Moore - the antichrist as a two year old who can kill by pointing at something and naming it 'Kitty'
The Masque of the Black Tulip - Lauren Willig - Scarlet Pimpernel-ish adventure; right up my alley
Sex, Drugs & DNA - Michael Stebbins - a scientist take on the lies the politicians are preaching on the TV nowadays

Worst Read of 2006

The Midnight Work - well written, but not the romance the spine promised it would be

Top Five Songs/Bands of 2006

Wind It Up - Gwen Stefani - catchy, and it's got yodeling. How can you go wrong?
Korn - Hard, raunchy, but hooky.
Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash - my son sings this. He channels Johhny when he does. It makes me swoon
The Peter Pan movie soundtrack - great background music for writing fantastical fiction
Dil Se-CHaiyya Chaiyya - Hindi House (Opening song on Inside Man movie) - everybody shake those hips!

Worst Song/Band of 2006

Lips of an Angel - Hinder - a man on the phone to his lover, telling her how he adores her, while his wife/girlfriend stands in the next room. So wrong.

So what about you? What were some of your favorites, and your absolute worsts?

Michele

Betina's Bumper Sticker Thing

It pays in life to be something of an optimist. I spend way too much time in traffic these days, but rather than kvetch and moan, I have decided to use the time collecting sayings from bumper stickers. I intend to make a sociological study of them someday. . . when I finish cleaning out my sock drawer and polishing my RITA.

There are stickers that denote one's general outlook on life:















There are stickers that offer helpful advice:











Then there are stickers that seek to inform or enlighten:













There are some that are simple self expression or cries for help. Hard to say.























But my favorites are the ones with a theological viewpoint:















And then there are some that just can't be ignored, which, when you come to think of it, is the whole point.
































And, of course, one of my personal favorites:






What about you? Got any favorite bumper stickers? What do you think when you come up behind a car with lots of bumper stickers on it? Does your spouse swear he'll divorce you if you ever put a bumper sticker on the car?