Elle Amery

WEB SITE DOWN, BUT NOT OUT!

2011-02-23T15:07:00.000-08:00

Sorry, folks, if you've been trying to check out my web site lately. I've switched providers, and it's taking a while for the transfer to occur. Or maybe it's me. I'm by no means a whiz-bang when it comes to computer stuff. Operator-error could be called Elle Amery-error. I am just that bad.

Me and My E-Reader

2011-01-19T11:09:00.000-08:00

I admit - even though my books are published in both e-book and print format, I've been highly--and I do mean highly--resistant to buying an e-reader. I love books. Not only for the stories I read, for the characters I fall in love with, for the settings I merge into, but for their spines, their soft pages, the black print on white paper, the covers, either paperback or hardback. I love folding a corner of the page to mark my place. I love the scent of an old book, one that shows how well-loved its been by a ragged cover and cracked spine. I love looking at my bookshelf and seeing all my old friends. I even love seeing my stack of TBR books in a pile by my bed; the pile that gets knocked over when the cat goes Skitter-Kitty on me. The pile that inevitably hides dust bunnies when I'm trying to vacuum. I've had a life-long love affair with books.

I may love books, but I've hated e-readers. Detested them. How dare they come and take my pleasure away? How dare they hide the covers and spines of my life-long friends? How dare they only give me one page to read at a time? Hey -- I'm a speed reader --by the time I'm halfway through reading a page my eyes are already skipping ahead to the facing page. So this one-page stupidity is to me precisely that: stupidity. I hate e-readers. Really, really hate them.

But then, something happened. I became friends with more writers, and in doing so, I found myself drawn to authors I'd never read before. Why? Why would I be friends with a writer but never have read their books? Easy answer: because their books were available only in e-book format. I found myself depressed. Sad that I'd either have to download a PDF and try to read the dang thing on my computer (which I hate and which gives me splitting headaches), or let go of that friend's title and have to admit, "No, sorry, I didn't read your book. It isn't out in print." Bad friend. Bad, bad friend. So I had a change of heart. A little, tiny, change of heart.

I bought an e-reader. Unwillingly. Fighting the purchase to the very end. But I did the deed -- I bought myself one of those banes of my existence. I bought a Kindle. And I bought a few of my friends e-books. And a couple of short stories. And I started reading. And reading. And reading more. But I still hated e-readers. I still resisted.

I had numerous reasons to resist enjoying my Kindle. I mean, why on earth is the screen so grey? I wanted white -- white like paper, darn it! Why grey? What was this, reading-in-the-clouds time? I wanted to see two pages at a time -- who reads one page at a time? I wanted to hold a book the way I normally do -- why did I have to make my shoulders and elbows realign because I'm now holding something five inches in width instead of eight? I fought the e-reader every step of the way. And fought hard. Resisted, resisted resisted. Until I realized something. Something, well, not profound, but important.

I realized I was going to have to suck it up. Yep, I had to put on my big girl panties. Get used to the e-reader. Accept the dratted thing. Heck, even embrace my nemesis. I'd bought the thing so I could delve into the worlds and stories created by my friends. Bought the Brat so I could enjoy stories I wouldn't have access to otherwise. I'd made the decision, made the purchase, and yet still was fighting. This new relationship, one of antagonism, wasn't working. I needed a fix. So I took a long, deep sigh, and hugged my Kindle. Weird, yeah, I know. Can you imagine me sitting there, hugging a piece of electronic equipment? But it worked. Every ounce of resistance flowed out of me as I sat there in my easy chair, hugging my e-reader. And all the books it held inside. And the future books I knew I'd download.

I went online and started searching. I found not only books by my friends, but books by some of my favorite authors, and even many books for free. Hey, Jane Austin! Guess what? All your works I can now hold in my hand, and I got them for free! After downloading book after book, I cozied up with my cat, a glass of Zinfandel (California, of course) in my hand, buried under a quilt, and read one. Yep, an entire book. That night. Without stopping. And the next night I read half of another book. And the pace continued.

And now, two weeks later, I've alternated reading e-books with print books -- there's no way e-books will ever become my favorite. I still love the smell of a print book, the feel of it in my hand, the weight, the shiny texture of a paperback and the rough texture of a classic hard-bound. I still love the sound a spine makes when it cracks open. I still love folding the tip of a page over to mark my place. I still love seeing my friends line my shelves. But ultimately, I love reading. So if a book comes only in e-format, I now will read it -- lovingly, happily, fully immersed in my Kindle. I no longer resist.

Because, after all, books are meant to be read. No matter how one reads them.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION

2011-01-01T13:16:00.000-08:00

Who else out there is blogging about their New Year's Resolutions? My guess is that in the blogosphere, the word "resolution" comes up in more titles today than ever.

Here are my writing resolutions for 2011 (resolutions involving reducing my butt size shall remain private):

1. Finish several short stories and the contemporary romance currently existing in multiple files on multiple computers.
2. Hold a contest quarterly. Give away cool stuff.
3. Don't just think about blogging--blog. Actually blog. Seriously, how difficult can it be to write a few paragraphs?
4. Update website. Like, now.
5. Stay involved with my writing and reading community through Yahoo groups, blogs, Facebook and Twitter. I do love me my Twitter!

Not too difficult, right? Yes, well, let's see how far I get. At least the first day of 2011 is off to a good start--I've blogged! Good luck to all of you with your resolutions for 2011. Here's to the new year!

Mother's Day Traveling

2009-05-13T14:50:00.001-07:00

My mother and a few other loved ones and I traveled to San Francisco by train over the weekend to celebrate Mother's Day. The adventure provided ample opportunity for panic, mild freak-outs, blisters, and cranky arguments, but also allowed me to experience several random acts of kindness and filled me with love. Here's our journey.

We traveled from Sacramento on Amtrak. We were traveling with women of all ages, including an eleven-year-old and her collection of Polly Pockets (had to throw the pic in of the Pocket girls all laid out on the dining car table, two in significant dialogue). As someone who's direly afraid of riding in cars (I blame an ex-boyfriend who claimed he'd once taken a speed racer course and would scare the bejeezus out of me by whipping in and out of traffic), the train offers such a lovely way to relax and enjoy the view--and the people. Helpful matronly women letting young college kids know when their stop arrived, kids running down aisles and stopping to smile at other kids they don't know--"hey, I have no clue who you are, but we're on a train together, so isn't this awesome?", and giggling sorority sisters yacking about--well, about yacking the night before--but still, they were sweet, if not a little hung over.

We headed out from Sacramento and rocked along for miles, passing sloughs, wetlands, the Mothball Fleet, and my favorite, the S&H sugar refinery, until we transfered to a bus to get us into the city proper.

Once there, we were convinced by the younger people in our group to tug our luggage along behind us as we explored Pier 39 and the Maritime Museum, including the historic boats there. Note to self: insist on dropping off luggage at hotel prior to sightseeing. Rolling suitcases may not weigh much, but when rolled over other tourist's toes, can cause not-so-happy reactions. That said, plenty of people stopped to help us lift our bags up gangplanks, or joke with us about how San Francisco has so much to offer one doesn't want to spend a moment in the hotel. Shall comment on other reasons why one wouldn't want to spend much time in hotel later.

When we finally arrived at our hotel, with me exhausted and now bearing several new blisters, I realized why I should always be the one to make the hotel arrangements. Some in our group stay at this hotel often, primarily due to its cost (or lack of) and proximity to the event we had planned to attend that night. Me, I'd rather spend what hard-earned money I have on a nice hotel and take a bus. Don't get me wrong--I'm no wimp. I was raised on a farm and can handle dirt and critters, but there was a spider between my sheets. A big, dark brown, napping spider. As my friend pointed out, at least we knew since the spider was alive that the building was "green." I shot her a look and grumbled to myself that I'd almost prefer to live in a toxic sludge. I wanted to call the front desk, but my mom grabbed a tissue and tossed it out the door. Live long and prosper, spider, just not in my bed.

A quick trip back to Pier 39 for dinner was in order, followed by a contemporary ballet performance at a fantastic venue on an old wharf. We walked back to the hotel afterward, chilled but happy. There's something I love about walking the residential streets of a city at night. There's a sweet quietude about the place that only hours ago had been bustling with life and activity. Living in a small town we don't get much of the mix of residential and city life, and I enjoy the experience every time. We came to the end of the residential street, and there at the corner, a group of men walked past us, headed to the mini-mart. One of them stopped, turned back, and flashed us a huge grin and said, "Happy Mother's Day, ladies." With ten minutes until the official start of Mother's Day, we felt blessed by this stranger's heartfelt wish.

Breakfast at the Squat & Gobble came before a visit to the aquarium, where I fell in love with the jellyfish and the bat rays. After that, we headed home.

What all of us found inspiring was that every time we turned around, someone was being kind or helpful. A young English man pointed out our bus (hidden behind a tour monstrosity), a shabbily dressed man overheard me muttering about not knowing where to catch a taxi and stopped collecting recyclables from the bin to point out the best spot on my map, and an East Indian woman, who spoke no English, communicated with my mother in sign language about the love of being a mother. I may have disagreed with a spider over who should nap in the hotel bed, have ended up with more blisters on my feet than Band-Aids, and have freaked out over my missing bus, but I came home from this short trip filled to the brim with the kindness of others.

Laughter at Birth and an Interview

2009-05-05T10:25:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I'll be turning (oh, yeah, right . . . like I'm really going to divulge my age). What I will divulge, however, is a secret: on the day I was born the first thing that happened to me was that I was laughed at.

That's right. Laughed at. By my mother. Now, it isn't as bad as it sounds. See, she was a bit of a tiny woman, narrow hips and slender frame. You know how some women look like they're carrying a grapefruit when they're pregnant, and others appear to have a watermelon or two stuck up their shirts? The latter was my mother. And I was the watermelon. Oddly enough, I only weighed about six and a half pounds when I was born, but apparently my mom's body hadn't made much room for me while I was busy cooking. So I came out squished.

Really, really squished.

Beyond squished, actually. My foot was pressed against my shin and wouldn't flop its way down to proper foot position, and my nose was mashed sideways against my face. I was wrinkled all over and quite pruney, like most newborn babies. But my mother had never seen a newborn baby before, and here I was, her daughter, the infant she'd longed to see for so long, all wrinkled and squished up. And so she laughed. My mother took one look at me and laughed.

You'd think I'd have some sort of a complex over this, but I must admit, I love the idea of being born to laughter. You see, Mom wasn't laughing at me, she wasn't insulting me with her laughter; rather, she was laughing with joy and true amusement and with delighted amusement of how ironic life can be. After all, babies are supposed to be perfect and beautiful, right? And hers was so massively squished. There are differences between mean laughter and delighted laughter, and I was lucky enough to be born to delighted laughter. And when my mom recalls my birth, she and I share in the laughter.

My foot righted itself, as did my squished little nose. There's still a slight tilt to my nose, but nothing that doesn't show unless someone's staring straight into my nostrils. I tend to avoid those situations. But the legacy of the day I was born lives on in laughter. Each year, I approach my birthday with a bit of humor involved. I have dinner with my folks and we laugh. I find my friends and we share a bottle of wine and laugh. This year I'm celebrating my birthday a day early by heading over to Phoebe Jordan's blog, Talk About My Favorite Authors. Come find out a little bit more about me as a writer, and maybe we'll find a few things to laugh about, too.

Writing Tip: Who Not That - Think Whoville

2009-04-28T12:08:00.001-07:00

Naughty me . . . here I've promised writing tips and have delivered only a few. Okay, here's a brief tip.

I'm currently editing a non-fiction piece and have found numerous places throughout the document where the writer has referred to people as "that." Okay, so although this "who" versus "that" debate has been ongoing for ages, and although the use of "who" for a person and "that" for an object isn't a hard and fast grammar rule, here's my opinion:

Don't "that" a "who"!

Please don't refer to a person as a "that;" refer to them as a "who." Think Whoville. You know, from Horton Hears a Who. Here's what I mean:

WRONG: "Elle heard the Who in Whoville that hollered to Horton."

CORRECT: "Elle heard the Who in Whoville who hollered to Horton."

Since using "that" for a person isn't technically incorrect, why do I make such a big deal about it? Why do I have this preference? Why do I insist my writers use "who" when referring to a person and "that" when referring to an object? Because like so many others, I grew up on Dr. Seuss, who taught us "A person's a person, no matter how small." After all, the town in Horton Hears a Who was called Whoville, not Thatville, right?? And that, folks, is just my humble opinion.

REKINDLED FIRE Release!

2009-04-27T11:57:00.000-07:00

The erotic romance anthology I edited (and included one of my own short stories) will be released next month. Rekindled Fire: An Anthology of Reunited Lovers will be released some time in May.

Rekindled Fire traces the stories of ten couples who lose each other, only to find their way back together once again. The love stories here contain two unifying elements: profound love and erotic, passionate heat. Whether the story is contemporary or features magic, vampires or shape shifting; whether it involves spanking, bondage, or simply pure, unadulterated sex; or whether the couples have been torn apart for several months or one hundred years; one question remains the same: will these former lovers be able to rekindle the flame of love?

I'm out in the world!

2009-04-18T10:22:00.000-07:00

This week is a busy one for me. Today I'm over at Raine's Delight, chatting with other Ravenous Romance authors. Raine has asked some intriguing and thoughtful questions. Join us! http://tinyurl.com/cmaa5z

Also, the Ornery Eleven (eleven Ravenous Romance authors) are on a blog tour. We'll be visiting thirteen blogs in as many days. First stop, Zhadi's Den. Come on over and learn a bit more about your favorite Ravenous Romance author - maybe you'll meet a new author you'll come to love! http://www.danafredsti.com/blog/?p=297

Here's the blog tour information:

4/19 - Jennifer’s Random Musings - Elle Amery
4/20 - Unbound - Lisa Lane
4/21 - Talk About My Favorite Authors - Angela Cameron
4/22 - Kissa Starling - Em Lynley
4/23 - The Countess - Jamaica Layne
4/24 - PNR Inklings Blog at ParaNormal Romance - Sèphera Girón
4/25 - Wicked Thorn and Roses - Isabel Roman
4/27 - Sia McKaye’s Thoughts on… - Neve Black
4/29 - Bryn Greenwood - C. Margery Kempe
4/30 - Bookwenches - Savannah Chase
5/1 - Neve Black - Inara LaVey
5/2 - Night Owl Romances - The Fabulous Wrap Up Stop!

And finally, I'll be attending the Romantic Times convention this coming week, in Orlando Florida. Keep an eye out for me - I'd be happy to chat!

I've Stormed Keta's Keep!

2009-03-31T08:47:00.000-07:00

Come visit me today over at Keta's Keep - the fantastic blog belonging to the amazing writer, Keta Diablo, author of Land of Falling Stars. All three Quartzton series books are listed, and I've added a few excerpts from the books - fun!

My Trilogy is Going to Print! - CONTEST

2009-03-19T11:51:00.000-07:00

I'm beyond thrilled to announce that all three current books in my Quartzton series, Saving Sophie, Grace on Fire, and Tally's Gift will be going to print soon, available through Amazon. These three novels are among the dozen selected by my publisher, Ravenous Romance, to go into print.

Given that I live out in the boondocks where dial-up is the only way many of my friends can access the Internet, it's a big thrill to be able to offer my books in print. Plus, this appeals to many die-hard print readers.

To celebrate the print release, I will be giving away a print copy of the first book in the series, Saving Sophie, to one randomly selected contestant. All you have to do to enter to win is to sign up for my newsletter on my website (click here) between now and April 30th. Put in the Subject Line "Print Book Contest." One entry per participant, please. The winner will be randomly selected on May 1, 2009.

Best,
Elle Amery

Miscellany and a Grammar Tip

2009-03-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

Oh dear, I have been so bad at blogging. And I had such high hopes for myself . . . guess I should know myself better after all these years: if it isn’t on my schedule, it simply doesn’t happen. But, I have much to share, so I’ll try to make this blog count.

First, Tally’s Gift was released on February 21st! I can’t be more thrilled. I’d been itching to tell Tally Bennett’s story for so long. The scene between her and Brett Huntsman when they are in the hospital (I won’t share too much, I’m trying to keep this blog Rated PG-13) was actually the trigger five years ago for the trilogy. Ravenous Romance once again did a fabulous job on the cover – it’s exquisite, and fits the story perfectly, even down to the leather thong around Tally’s neck.

Second, I’ve decided to extend the deadline for REKINDLED: Finding Lost Love anthology submissions to March 20th. If you are an author, or even an aspiring author, please do consider submitting a short story (2.5-6k words) to this anthology about lovers once lost who’ve reunited. The genre is erotic romance; for more information, please check out my web site, www.elleamery.com, or my previous post.

Third, I’d promised to provide grammar tips! Here’s a quick one:

CAPITALIZING AFTER A COLON:

I had a client recently who capitalized every first word that followed a colon. When I corrected her errors and made the initial word lower case in three of the five instances, she argued with me (nicely!), saying she thought I was being inconsistent. I wasn’t. Truly. Sometimes she was wrong, and sometimes she was right. But why?

The main rule is that you DON’T capitalize the first word that follows a colon.

EXAMPLE: The party was in full swing when Miss Scarlett realized something: one of them would die!

However, like much in life, there are exceptions to the rule.

DON’T capitalize the first word after a colon UNLESS the first word is a proper name.

EXAMPLE: The party included the following attendees: Miss Scarlett, Mrs. White, and Mr. Green.

DON’T capitalize the first word after a colon UNLESS it is introducing a quoted sentence.

EXAMPLE: One of the party attendees made the following statement: “Somebody's been murdered.”

DON’T capitalize the first word after a colon UNLESS more than one sentence follows the darned thing.

EXAMPLE: The party attendees conferred and observed the following: The dead body had been found in the conservatory. A lead pipe was next to the body. Colonel Mustard and Professor Plum were missing.

So you see? Unlike what my client thought, I wasn’t being inconsistent after all!

Elle Amery's Grammar Tip of the Week

2009-01-24T18:06:00.000-08:00

Although I’ve been writing for years, my day job (the one that pays the bills) is editing and serving as a writing coach. I’ve found that many of my clients, both beginning and seasoned writers, have similar questions about punctuation and grammar. Authors come from vastly different backgrounds; not all of us were English majors in college, and even those with strong voices can sometimes find themselves bogged down in technicalities. Writing is difficult work, as we all know. As both a writer and an editor, I can tell you that it’s much easier to edit and revise someone else’s work than to write perfect prose.That's what my copyeditor is for!

Any hoo, I’ve been asked if I could share some of my answers to common grammar questions in this blog. The idea sounded great, so I thought I’d pick from some of my clients’ questions and address some of the more common problems. We’ll start out with this e-mail I received from one of my former clients not long ago:

Hey, Elle, so when the heck do I put a comma before the word “but” or “and” in a sentence? Seems like every time I don’t put a comma in, the copyeditor slams one in there, and other times when I do put them in, they get deleted. What am I doing wrong? Thanks.

Technical answer: place the comma after the first independent clause when two independent clauses are linked with a coordinating conjunction: and, but, for, or, nor, yet, so.

Elle’s longer but less technical answer: Quick rule of thumb: If you can make a complete sentence out of the words (clause) in front of the AND/BUT (coordinating conjunction) and another complete sentence out of the words (clause) that comes after the AND/BUT, stick a comma before the AND/BUT (this goes for “for, or, nor, so, and yet”, also.) It’s easy if you can remember:

Full sentence before AND/BUT and full sentence after AND/BUT equals comma before AND/BUT. Otherwise, keep that pesky critter out of there.

Examples:

(comma required) Elle has a large butt, but her large butt doesn’t have her.

You see how I could split that sentence into two sentences on either side of the “but”, right? Elle has a large butt. Her large butt doesn’t have her. Therefore, throw in the comma before the coordinating conjunction (“but”).

(no comma) Elle has a large butt and large pants to match.

Okay, so my vanity is getting the best of me here – I don’t have THAT large of a butt! Nevertheless, you can see why there’s no comma before the word “and” – you can’t break that sentence into two complete sentences, can you? Keep that comma away from this sentence.

Best, Elle

Oh- and here’s a quickie editorial suggestion, inspired by the fact that I used an exclamation point up there: avoid overuse of exclamation points in fiction writing. They are a mark of an amateur writer, and something editors don’t like to see. Suggest using only when in deep third person or in dialogue that explicitly calls for one. Blogging, however, is a different story!!!!!!

Request for Submissions

2009-01-22T14:18:00.000-08:00

For all you writers out there, I'm currently accepting submissions for an erotic romance anthology on couples reuniting after separation, called REKINDLED: Finding Lost Love. Here's the submission requirements:

Short story submissions can be any genre as long as it is an erotic romance with an HEA (Happily Ever After), or at least a strong suggestion of one to come. Length of stories is between 1,200 and 5,000k. The anthology will be published in e-book format by Ravenous Romance. Submissions will be accepted until February 6th.

Please submit documents to submissions@elleamery.com as a Word document attachment. Please use Times New Roman font, double spaced, with ## symbols between scene breaks. As per Ravenous Romance editorial standards, no pedophilia, necrophilia, bestiality, or rape scenes will be accepted. Both published and unpublished authors will be considered.

Confessions of a Twitter Addict

2009-01-19T17:57:00.000-08:00

I confess, I’ve become a Twaddict – someone addicted to Twitter. Can’t get enough of those 140 character posts. Besides, it’s a great way to hone writing: “perfect process to pithy prose”.

I spent last week finalizing Tally's Gift, the third book in the series of the Quartzton girls. My tweets on Twitter illustrate my writing process: from giving up on cooking to finding myself seriously distracted by my various pets to falling in love with my hero. Here are the posts:

Where, oh where, has my inspiration gone/where, oh where can it be? Sung to the tune of that annoying lost puppy song my mom used to sing.
The guinea pig does this little thing when you tickle his back - seriously, it's the first time I've ever heard anything actually "chortle."
The second in my series, Grace on Fire, just released. Now if I could only focus and finish the third . . . Tally's story needs to be told!
Got my 1k words written - finished research - how I do love history! Allowing myself some tweet time, chat time, and email reading time.
I'm having one of those days . . . can I delete it and start over?
Odd twinges of pain shooting up my arm - must cease and desist with the typing! 1.5 k today, enough to allow myself a break. Latte time.
Lost my inspiration. Went off to look for it. Found dirty dishes in sink instead. Maybe quest was a bad idea. Hate dirty dishes.
Burned onions that were supposed to be turning translucent. Now kitchen smells of both raw and burned onions, not that lovely sauteed scent.
Thinking of eating out tonight. Burned onion smell driving me batty.
Sitting down to write - will I get 5k written today?
2.5k down, 2.5k left to go. And yes, this is raw writing - nothing polished about it. Will polish later. Love polishing!
Did not know that Alaska's state bird was the ptarmigan. I like saying that word . . . "ptarmigan, ptarmigan". . .
At 4k words and 1k more to go - cracking whip at self.
I'm crying. The words came flying out today, and my hero REALLY fell in love with my heroine. Damn I'm sappy- crying over my own characters!
OK, I don't know HOW I did this-wrote over 7k words today. What the heck happened? Where did it come from? And guess what-it wasn't all crap!
I'm wiped . . . so very wiped . . . don't think I can type another owred - ehem . .. that should be "word"
My new favorite musician: Bri Anne Michelle. Check her out on MySpace:
I'm watching the dog watch the bunny as she hops around the house. Methinks Pound Dog views Beatrix is some sort of bizarre dog.
Bunny = food? That's what the cat thinks, which is why I threw her, yowling her complaints loudly, out the front door. Bunny not breakfast!
Beatrix scattered her bedding on my floor, then decided to take a nap in the mess. Whadda bunny!
Someone give that bunny a broom!
She's a rescue, don't know her age. Looks like Peter Rabbit but is a girl, so I named her Beatrix, after Beatrix Potter.
The screen started blurring in front of my eyes. Oh yeah, fed cat, dog, bunny, hamster, parakeets, guinea pig and fish, but forgot myself!
3k and counting. Guess taking the phone off the hook & being anti-social ALL weekend has its benefits. Will still need to revise, 'tis true.
Just realized one way in which e-books won't ever be able to replace print books: reading in a bubble bath.
Conducting research on flights from California to London and back - wishing it were me flying to London instead of my hero.
Just told my hero how awesome he is! Can one fall in love with one's own characters? If so, I'm majorly crushin' on Brett right about now
*cracking whip at self* Working on revisions today, which can include writing entire scenes. Bagel and cream cheese, coffee, laptop, all set.
Pound Dog staring out open front door, watching for activity on my lane. We're in the January Warms - temps almost up to 70 (Fahrenheit).
Tried to type the word "pink", only typed "oink" instead - THREE times in a row! Maybe I'm thinking my hero's a bit of a pig in this scene.
Subconscious messages sent by laptop keyboards . . .
Saving Sophie and Grace on Fire are #1 and #3 on the Ravenous Romance top ten list today! Yea Sophie and Grace! Now to finish Tally's story :)
Realized completed ms needs another scene - taking off my editor hat and putting my writer hat back on.
Finished the missing scene in ms - writer hat off, editor hat back on.
Beatrix the Bad (new name for once-so-sweet bunny) has been attempting to find edible electrical cords. Taste-tested several. Now in cage.
I think it's been a week since I've made a real home cooked meal. Starting to hate deadlines. Been living on cereal and salad-in-a-bag. Uck.
Yawn. Up too late last night. These oddly balmy days and nights are throwing me out of whack. Detest global warming. Not ready for spring. Love the internet for quick research. Here's the sound that's in the scene I'm writing:
Grace on Fire and Saving Sophie #1 and #2 on Ravenous Romance's Bestseller list - way to go, girls! Third in the series coming up soon . . .
I love words. My favorite for today: DISCOMBOBULATED - how my hero feels right now. My all-time favorite: OSCULATE -what he's doing now.
Interrupted my revision process to put guinea pig in with bunny - furry friend playdate. They're playing Throw The Plastic Bowl Around.
Whew. Exhausted. Totally wiped. But got the MS in to the publisher. Now off to a fifth-grade band concert. Don't ask.

Grace on Fire Released!

2009-01-16T13:50:00.000-08:00

I have to admit, I'm feeling a little sorry for poor Grace. Well, Wyatt Bennett's one hell of a hunk and he's hot for her, so I guess I don't feel too sorry for for that raven-haired pixie! But in truth, I've been bad to sweet Grace because I haven't shouted the release of her story from the rooftops yet! Grace on Fire came out last week, and I was so caught up in finalizing edits to What Tally Gave that I never posted a blog about the release. Bad, bad author. Although, Grace is so sweet that I'm sure she forgives me!

So, without further ado, I present Grace on Fire, the second in the trilogy about three best friends and their older and oh, SO sexy brothers!

GRACE ON FIRE

Freed from a painful marriage by her husband's accidental death, Grace Muscat is beginning to come alive again. But when she overhears the town's sexiest firefighter call her "frigid," she realizes Don Marshall's right: she has to learn how to enjoy sex. Who better to teach her than her one hellishly sexy friend, Wyatt Bennett?

Wyatt will do anything for Grace; after all, he's been in love with her for years. His heart is already entangled, so sex couldn't possibly complicate things further, could it? In fact, sleeping with Grace could be his one chance to make her to fall in love with him.

However, when it becomes clear that Grace is only out to snag Don Marshall, Wyatt discovers he's faced with the conflict of being a supportive friend and a man in love. Will he be able to teach Grace the ultimate lesson-that the flame of love is what burns the hottest?

Saving Sophie has been released

2008-12-28T17:06:00.001-08:00

Yes, Saving Sophie has been published. It's now available at Ravenous Romance as either an e-book or an audiobook. To my surprise and pleasure, it released earlier than had been anticipated.

Saving Sophie came out a few days before Christmas. I was pleased to have it published in 2008, but because the date was so close to Christmas, I wasn't able to spend as much time marketing as I'd hoped. The day it released I was surrounded by piles of fabric, lace, and a dying sewing machine, desperate to finish the doll dresses I'd promised my nieces for Christmas. Not to mention I had dozens of cookies to bake for my dad, my church, and the local homeless shelter between the 22nd and Christmas Eve. So, somewhere between the sewing mess on my dining room table, the baking mess in my kitchen (hey, at least it smelled good!) and the knowledge that I still needed to find my mom a Christmas gift, the excitement and thrill of Saving Sophie's release got lost.

I found, also, that I worried for the characters, Sophie and Jake. What if readers didn't love them? Creating characters isn't difficult for me, but as I discovered the morning of the 22nd, letting them go is--I don't want to send them off to the great, wide world. I want to keep them with me, protected, adored, safe from scrutiny. A well-known author I met at the RWA conference in San Francisco told a group of us that one of the most difficult processes for a writer to experience is to let go of the story--the characters must be released from our heads and hearts so other stories and characters can grow and live. Let go of Sophie? And gorgeous Jake? These people have been living in my head for almost five years now--how do I let them go?

Letting go of our stories may be difficult for many of us writers, but we know we need to move on. We have hundreds of storylines coursing through our minds, characters that we want to get to know, settings we want to explore. Like a child and parent, we have nurtured these figurative people, helped them to fall in love, paved a path for them to find happiness. Now we need to send them out into the world--a world that can be both loving and cruel--a world that will both accept and criticize them--a world where we, as authors, no longer have control.

I find I need to say farewell to Sophie and Jake. Their story has been told. It's time to move on to writing my next book, fleshing out the minor characters that appeared in Saving Sophie, finding a new storyline, new complexities. I won't forget Jake and Sophie--they will forever remain in my heart--but to create a new story for new characters, I must release the characters that have stayed with me for so long.

And so it's with a sweet poignancy that I say, "goodbye, and good luck," to these two people who I've come to love. My hope is that you readers enjoy Sophie and Jake's story as much as I enjoyed dreaming it, writing it, and now, giving it to you.

Why one should always follow one's proccess, and not take a nap with the kitty cat

2008-12-07T17:36:00.000-08:00

I love my writing process: I lay on my couch, arm over my eyes to keep out the light, cat on my tummy to keep me warm (except in the summer when she's curled up on her own by my feet) and dream up romantic scenarios. After indulging in fantasyland for about an hour, I rouse myself, plop down on my favorite comfy chair with my laptop, and write what I've just dreamed up. After a few weeks of daydreaming, typing, deleting and rewriting, daydreaming some more, I have produced a book - how great is that?

Except when the process goes awry . . .

I made a mistake today - I plopped down on my bed instead of the couch to do my daydreaming. I knew it was a mistake, but the kitty was napping right in the middle of the down comforter, her cute little self all rolled into a ball to keep her toesies warm - it was an imperative that I snuggled down with her to share our body heat, right? After all, it's been a cold day here in northern California. But then something happened. I scootched the kitty onto my tummy, slung my arm over my eyes to block out the light, and promptly fell asleep.

As yummy as that nap was, I discovered something today: daydreaming on the couch is productive - daydreaming on the bed is simply napping. And napping is a luxurious waste of time.

So tonight I'll be forced to write the boring, unromantic scenes in my next book, What Tally Gave, instead of those fantastic erotic romance scenes where Tally and Brett heat up the sheets. Why? Because I didn't follow my process. I didn't lay on the couch with the cat as my muse, imagining all the wonderfully romantic encounters between Tally and Brett, dreaming up their internal conflicts as they fall madly in love. No, today the cat and I simply took a nap.