Did anyone get that license plate number?

by with No Comment Musings

Four days after signing a contract for DIVA IN THE DUGOUT, I’m still riding the high that comes with a first sale. But in the quieter moments (read: when I’m not jumping like a maniac and talking 3,000 miles a minute), I find myself wondering: What just happened here?

Yes, I’ve been working hard — writing new stuff, revising stories that still need help and, perhaps most importantly, opening myself up for rejection by putting my babies out there.

I’d also decided — not so long ago — to take the plunge into indie publishing. I signed up for a self-publishing class online. I hired a web designer and started working with a cover artist. I lined up an editor for HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS and sent OPERATION SNAG MIKE BRAD out to several readers.

Of course, I hadn’t completely given up on a more traditional path. After all, so many folks these days are doing both. Last Monday, I entered Bree and Mike’s story, OVEREXPOSED, in the Golden Pen. The goal was to get feedback to better prep the entry for GH2014. (I wasn’t satisfied with its 2013 scores, even though it landed in the top quarter. I wanted another GH final under my belt.)

But I no longer hung all my hopes on landing an agent/finaling in a contest/selling my book to a publisher. I opted to take my career into my own hands.

Funny how life works, isn’t it? My book deal found me only after I stopped looking for it.

The day after I entered the Golden Pen, I got the email from Turquoise Morning Press; on Thursday, I inked the deal. (I believe that makes me ineligible for the next Golden Heart competition. Correct me if I’m wrong, please. I hate to have wasted an entry fee.)

Did anyone get the license plate number of whatever sent me spinning in a completely different direction?

Is it simply that, as Depeche Mode says, “God has a sick sense of humor”? Or is something else at work?

They — whoever “they” are — say that love finds you when you least expect it. Does the same principle apply to book deals?

Maybe.

Dreams Dreams InsideOr maybe there’s something to visualization, to the principle of “acting as if.” That’s what these cards I found at Target the other day seem to suggest.

I also have some personal experience with visualization.

Back in late 2010/early 2011, as part of my ongoing weight-loss journey, I hooked up with a life coach. Among the things Jenn and I did was create a vision of the future me.

After chatting with me about my goals, Jenn emailed me this paragraph for me to consider:

I see a woman who is confident. She is glowing with happiness, she is vibrant. I see a woman who is fit, she is active, she enjoys the outdoors with her dogs and she practices regular yoga. She is lighter, she may even be at her goal weight! I see a woman who enjoys food. Food has lost it’s power over her. She is excited about her future as a writer. She is independent and she believes in herself. I see a woman who is a writing finalist, carrying a new MacBook. I see a woman who is a traveler. She is surrounded by people who love and support her, and she is connected with her family.

Wishes Wishes Inside

As best I could, I took our vision to heart and acted as if I’d already achieved the success I sought.

And guess what?

The fit, active yoga devotee is still mere pipe dream. Most days, I’d rather veg on the couch … or in a chair at Starbucks. The part about food losing its power over me hasn’t materialized yet, either, though I wish it would.

But the part about writing that I highlighted in purple? Spot-on.

I did become a Golden Heart finalist a few months later (and found out I’d won the Beacon on the very same day). I’ve also gotten not one but TWO new laptops since then. (Okay, the first one was reconditioned … but the current one is all mine. Never-been-owned, fresh out of the box — and I love it, even if I’ll be paying for it for a long, long time.)

While I can’t say for sure how big a role our visualization played in my success, it does make me wonder. Perhaps I should start imagining myself as a fit, active yoga lover who doesn’t let food control her.

It’s worth a shot, right?

I still haven’t found what I’m looking for (or weird internet searches)

by with No Comment FeatureMusings

superhighwayCyberspace is a funny place — both funny in the “ha-ha” sense and just plain strange.

How do I know? Take a look at some of the search terms people have used recently to get to my blog:

only fear (the mindhunters). Okay, that one’s not so strange. “Only Fear” author Anne Marie Becker and I live near each other, belong to the same RWA chapter (NARWA) and sit down to write together at least once a week. I don’t read a lot romantic suspense, preferring to stick to contemporary romantic comedy and certain historicals — but I read (and loved) Anne Marie’s debut, and blogged about it.

arlene hittle. Also not weird. I’d be more upset if my name didn’t drive folks to my site.

fotune+cookie+love+panda. Huh? Just because I wrote a post about the fortune I got from a cookie at Panda Express?

copy editors need to have a dirty mind. This is one of my favorites. It harkens back to this post about my experiences as a copy editor. Really, where else but a college newsroom would you have a five-minute discussion on how to describe the new “no parking” signs on campus? You can’t say they were “mounted.” “Erected” is also out.

What did we decide? Give me a break. You expect me to remember the resolution of a conversation that happened two decades ago?

Mr Happy story ideas. Not a recent search term, but I still crack up every time I think about this one. After I blogged about heroes who have names for that certain special part of their anatomy, someone got to my blog via that search.

Hmm. Maybe I should aim to become the author readers put on auto-buy just to see what pet name comes up next …

Over on my weight-loss blog, I blogged in February 2012 about how I asked for Reese Witherspoon’s sideswept bangs at the salon. To this day, I still get traffic related to Reese Witherspoon searches. (Top search terms include “reese witherspoon haircuts,” “reese witherspoon weight gain 2012″ and “reese side swept bangs.”)

Strange but true!

I’m listening

by with No Comment Musings

When the universe starts talking, you listen.

Actually, I’m not sure if it’s just that the universe is talking or if I’m just more inclined to listen now that I’ve made the decision to take the self-publishing plunge.

Or maybe it’s really true that Sedona’s hippy-dippy, woo-woo psychic energy vortex has finally wormed its way into the fabric of my daily life.

Whatever the reason, I’ve been stumbling on more and more fuel to affirm my course. It started with that fortune-cookie message, but went on to infiltrate the bag of Dove Dark Chocolate/Caramel/Sea Salt candies I keep in my desk drawer at work.

Tuesday night, I found this one:

And Wednesday night, it was this message:

I snapped a picture of that one with a photo of me and my Mom in San Francisco (2003) because I think she’d approve of what I’m about to do. I just wish she were alive to see it.

Hopefully, she knows.

Prep work for my indie debut continues. I’m revising away on my MS and I’ll be signing with a graphic designer soon to redesign my website and unify my look across all platforms (Facebook, Twitter, blog, Google+).

It’s going to be a busy summer!

Writing through disaster?

by with No Comment Musings

The Boston Marathon bombing was a horrendous tragedy, and plenty of folks more eloquent than I am have expressed their thoughts much better than I ever could.

Why’s that? I write romantic comedy. I don’t do well with dark moments, tears and a heavy heart. My whole family’s like that. There’s a reason we sat around cracking jokes before and after my dad’s funeral.

My predisposition to avoiding sadness is why, after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, I stopped writing. Months — maybe even a year — passed before I shook the funk and continued with the story I’d been working on (“Blind Date Bride”). I didn’t feel like being funny when the world as we knew it had changed forever.

But that was more than a decade ago, and if I’m going to be published before I’m too old to enjoy the victory, I don’t have the luxury of taking another six months to a year off. Besides, I signed up for the NaRoNoWriMo (National Romance Novel Writing Month) challenge to write 40K in April. I’m woefully behind — and was even before Monday’s attack. A couple of new rejections have waylaid me more than I’d like to admit. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but my skin apparently isn’t as tough as it needs to be.

In keeping with the spirit of trying to get back in the swing of things, I made myself a note:

 The sentiment is from my fellow NARWAns, Karen and Anne Marie. We were gathered for some writing time at Starbucks Thursday, and when I confessed I was struggling, they gave me a gentle shove in the right direction.

I will write — not only for myself, but also for anyone who needs to boost their mood … who wants a good laugh … who, like me, uses humor to cope with their deepest, darkest doubts.

I will write because if we stop doing what we want — if we don’t continue to follow our dreams — the terrorists win.

Uh-uh. Not on my watch.

Down to the wire

by with 2 Comments Musings

Who AM I?

In high school and college, I was the nerdy kid so many loved to hate: I finished papers early and often set the curve.

The semester I spent in England, I turned in my British Studies research paper  — on “Wuthering Heights” — early so I could get feedback from my adviser and revise it for a better grade. I also wrote an extra research paper — on Salman Rushdie’s “Satanic Verses” — to get 300-level credit for the class instead of 200-level.

You rarely found me pulling all-nighters because I often finished papers long before their due date.

Nowadays, that’s not the case. I barely finished judging the eight Golden Heart entries RWA sent me by the March 7 deadline. I snuck in my novella submission to Carina Press just under the wire. I frequently just make the deadline for contests.

What happened to that go-getter?

Is it fair to blame my newfound bent for procrastination on life getting in the way? Back then, my only job was being a student. Now I have to make room for writing/editing/contest judging on top of a 40-hour-a-week day job — and still find time to work out, play with the Boyfriend, keep up with writing for three blogs and cook healthy-ish meals.

Not to mention, back then, the time-sucks of Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest didn’t exist to distract me. Of course, those time-sucks can be a valuable way to network, keep my finger on the pulse of the industry and keep up with my friends’ many accomplishments.

It’s a fine line, and I’m trying to walk it more precisely every day.

Your turn: How do you balance all the demands on your time? Do you find yourself procrastinating more now than in the past?

Making a dent in the ol’ TBR pile?

by with 2 Comments Musings

A new theory has been simmering in my brain for the last few weeks. Want to hear it?

Of course you do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be reading my blog, right?

Authors — and readers — have TBR piles. More likely than not, they’re towering TBR piles that threaten to topple over because we’re adding to them much faster than we take things away.

Or is that just me?

My theory is this: Pinterest boards are to recipes what TBR piles are to books.

I don’t remember exactly how long ago I joined Pinterest, but I can tell you that I’ve been pinning recipes like a champ ever since: I have about 575 recipes on 14 recipe-themed boards.

I started with a generic “Food ideas” board, soon realizing that I needed to break things down further if I ever expected to find anything. So now I have separate categories for low-carb recipes, breakfast ideas, smoothies, sweets, vegetarian chow, paleo eats, holiday favorites … pretty much any category you can think of. And I add to them every time I visit Pinterest.

In fact, when I hopped over to count how many recipes I’ve pinned, I found two more to add. You can check out my boards here, if you’re so inclined.

These recipe boards are a lot like my TBR pile — full of things I want to make/eat/read someday … in the distant future … if I ever find the time.

Maybe I should institute a new rule: Every time I finish a book, I have to try a new recipe — and vice versa. That’d give me a chance to make a dent in both stashes.

Are you a pinner? Do you have more ideas bookmarked than you can possibly get through?

 

Gym class memories

by with 2 Comments Musings

The most recent snowstorm that socked Flagstaff left me wearing snowboots. They’re heavy, clunky boots that, while keeping my feet dry and at least a little warm, tend to gobble my socks.

Because of their penchant for leaving me with one sock off and the other half on, I can’t wait to shed these pain-in-the-a$$ boots (and put my socks back on) … so I’ve taken to stashing a pair of sneakers under my desk at work. With a minutes’ work — presto change-o — I can walk through the office without my socks bunching around my toes.

The simple act of changing into a bright pink pair of tennis shoes calls to mind elementary and middle school gym classes. Unfortunately, the memories aren’t as rosy as the shoes.

I didn’t mind gym class so much in elementary school. It was fun to play  duck, duck, goose, prison dodgeball and that game with the parachute.

Then middle school happened. PE went from fun to full-on torture. For some reason, the powers-that-be put gym class first thing in the morning — meaning, essentially, we had to get ready for school twice. Considering it was all I could do to do my hair once, that was a fate worse than dropping my purse and having feminine hygiene products spill out.

Our PE class was structured into weeks-long units. I succinctly remember units on basketball (which I was surprisingly bad at for a born Hoosier), volleyball, softball and tennis. I also remember that horrid Presidential Fitness test, where you had to run a mile as fast as you could and hang by your arms (which I couldn’t do for more than a split second).

But the worst, by far, was … square dancing. With “icky” boys. (Our gym classes were only co-ed for square dancing. The rest of the year, they did their thing and we did ours.) The mere thought makes me shudder, even all these years later. If I can unearth the short story I wrote about the experience, I’ll come back and share some of my favorite lines.

I can’t help wondering: If middle school and high school PE had been more enjoyable … if they’d emphasized personal fitness instead of team sports … if they’d had units on yoga and zumba, would I still be fighting the same battle with my weight?

Probably. While I’ve finally found exercise I enjoy, it’s still a struggle to watch what I eat and move regularly. It’s a lot easier to grab a value meal and park it in front of my computer.

Anyone else hate square dancing as much as I did? What was your gym class nemesis?

 

Not much love — or laughter

by with No Comment Musings

Love and laughter have been in short supply in my little corner of the Internet, and for that I apologize. I’ll try to blog more often.

I want Love & Laughter to grow better … faster … stronger in 2013. Yes, that’s in addition to all the REAL writing I’m planning to do this year. A writer’s work never ends.

Not much happening in these parts — hence my lack of posts, I suppose. I’m still editing away, and for a few days last week I was THISCLOSE to becoming part of a group blog for up-and-coming romantic comedy writers.

Sadly, the idea stumbled and fell flat on its face before we managed to get off and running.

That leaves me with two options: Building up my personal blog here or joining an already-established group of romantic comedy authors with a blog that needs a helping hand.

I know that’s easier than building one from the ground up, because I jumped into another, already-established blog with no drama. I blog over at Chicklets in the Kitchen several times a month. The gig gives me an outlet for my two other loves — eating and cooking. (My posting day is Thursday.)

Anyone know of any additional group blogging opportunities? In the words of my friend, Abigail Sharpe, I’m funny, I promise!

This post on my copy editing experiences will give you a taste of my humor. Or the card that would have been perfect for my mother. Or this one on naming heroes’ naughty bits. Later on, I was surprised to see “Mr. Happy” pop up in the terms people used to find my blog. (Heh … “pop up” …)

Really, I need to write more fun posts like that — stat! Perhaps then, my blog will begin to live up to its name.

 

The Next Big Thing

by with No Comment Musings

I was glad to say yes when Amy Raby, one of my Starcatchers sisters from the RWA Golden Heart class of 2011, asked me to take part in the Next Big Thing blog hop.

Unlike Amy, I don’t have a book scheduled for release. But I’m happy to talk about one of  my many works in progress.

Ten Interview Questions for the Next Big Thing

What is your working title of your book?

DIVA IN THE DUGOUT

Where did the idea come from for the book?

I started it right after I learned I’d finaled in the Golden Heart with BEAUTY AND THE BALLPLAYER. It’s the tale of a teammate/friend of the hero in that story, and something the hero mentioned to the heroine as his reason for doing something that upset her. My reasoning for writing it? If BEAUTY was going to be my success, I wanted to have one to go along with it.

What genre does your book fall under?

Contemporary romantic comedy

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Oooh — that’s a tough one. *Runs to Pinterest for inspiration* Even with some visual help, I had trouble answering this one. I could see Dylan McDermott or Chris Evans as Dave, my bad-boy shortstop-turned-father. Or maybe Channing Tatum (though he might make a better Matt, the catcher in BEAUTY). As for Melinda, my heroine, maybe the young Kate Hudson or Cameron Diaz. Brittany Snow could probably do it, too.

Final answer: Chris Evans is Dave Reynolds; Brittany Snow is Melinda Cline.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

A decent shortstop with a bad-boy reputation discovers — five years after the fact — that he’s a father and has to prove to the girl’s skeptical and super-protective mother that he can step up to the plate and knock one out of the park for fatherhood and everlasting love.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

That’s yet to be determined. I’m still on the hunt for an agent and publisher.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Six months. I started it in late March 2011 and had a draft by the beginning of September.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I think I’m going to have to pass on this question. I’ve plumbed the depths of my mind and can’t come up with an answer. I mean, I’d love to say my story is like those of Kristan Higgins or Susan Elizabeth Phillips  … but that’s probably stretching it a bit (or a lot). Those are the authors I most admire, and hope to be like, but I’m just not sure I’m there yet.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

After Dave’s backstory came up in BEAUTY, I knew I wanted to tell his story. I often get ideas for a new story when I’m in the middle of writing. Besides, I love the idea of a bad boy, reformed. I can’t remember which historical author wrote it, but it’s the world’s worst-kept secret that reformed rakes make the best husbands.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

In DIVA’s first incarnation, the book began with Dave and Mel hooking up for their one-night stand  … and that scene will probably eventually show up on my blog as an “extra.” I had to cut it because my beta readers said it made neither hero nor heroine likable.

Since I’m coming in several weeks into this, and with NaNoWriMo kicking off this week and a superstorm ravaging the East Coast, I’m having trouble finding five friends to tag. Please forgive me for shorting you two.

Tag, you’re it:

Abigail Sharpe, who writes contemporary romance. Her first novel, Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy, is due out in 2013. I met her when she called me to tell me I’d finaled in the Beacon contest (as I was leaving the post office after mailing off my Golden Heart entries), and we’ve since become friends.

Fellow Starcatcher Diana Belchase writes romantic suspense. She already posted her answers to the Next Big Thing questions on her Facebook page.

Connie Cockrell and I met through our Power Writing Hour group on Facebook. She just had a short story accepted in an anthology.


How many of these banned classics have you read?

by with No Comment Musings
Source: The American Library Association

With Sept. 30-Oct. 6 being Banned Books Week, I want to go on the record: People — of all ages — should be able to read what they want. Yes, even those poorly written “Fifty Shades” books, if that’s what keeps them turning the pages.

It’s not so important what they read, just as long as they’re reading. Of course I’d like them to read well-written, expertly crafted tales (like mine!). But what matters is that they’re engrossed in something that allows them to escape their reality, exposes them to new ideas or just plain entertains them and keeps them out of trouble.

Besides,  even the classics have their critics — a reality that not only baffles me, but riles me up and honks me off. We write because we have stories we need to share. Who is someone else to say, “Your story offends me so no one should have the chance to read it”?

Among the wealth of information on the American Library Association’s Banned Books Week website is this list of banned or challenged classics.

I’ve organized them into categories: Books I’ve read, books I want to read, books I have no interest in and ones I’ve never even heard of. (Thank goodness only a few of them ended up on that list!)

No matter where they fall on my list, try to imagine what our lives would be without them.

Read (many for a class, some for “fun,” when I had time for that kind of thing)

  1. The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
  2. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
  3. To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
  4. Beloved, by Toni Morrison
  5. The Lord of the Flies, by William Golding
  6. 1984, by George Orwell
  7. Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
  8. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
  9. Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston
  10. Gone with the Wind, by Margaret Mitchell (One of my all-time favorite books. I read it for the first time in 7th grade and for years wanted to live in a restored Ga. plantation house with my three cats, a tiger-striped one named Scarlett, a black one named Rhett and a white one named Ashley.)
  11. The Call of the Wild, by Jack London
  12. The Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie
  13. A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess
  14. A Separate Peace, by John Knowles
  15. An American Tragedy, by Theodore Dreiser

Want to read (if I ever have time)

  1. The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
  2. Lolita, by Vladmir Nabokov
  3. Animal Farm, by George Orwell
  4. Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison
  5. Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
  6. The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair
  8. Lady Chatterley’s Lover, by D.H. Lawrence
  9. The Awakening, by Kate Chopin
  10. In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote
  11. Sons and Lovers, by D.H. Lawrence
  12. Women in Love, by D.H. Lawrence
  13. Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller  (Wasn’t there a “Seinfeld” episode featuring this one? George still had the book he checked out from his high school library …)
  14. Rabbit, Run, by John Updike (This book, along with other “Rabbit” books, graced my parents’ bookshelf in the living room when I was a kid, but — unlike some of Mom’s other books — I never stole it off the shelf to read it.)

Sorry, not interested

  1. The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck  (Tried to read it in high school, but could not get through it)
  2. Ulysses, by James Joyce
  3. Catch-22, by Joseph Heller
  4. The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway
  5.  As I Lay Dying, by William Faulkner
  6. A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
  7. Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison
  8. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey (I watched the movie because I read Brad Pitt said he loved it, and — despite my love for Brad Pitt, hated it)
  9. For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Ernest Hemingway
  10. All the King’s Men, by Robert Penn Warren
  11. The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien  (Blasphemy, I know.)
  12. Sophie’s Choice, by William Styron
  13. Brideshead Revisited, by Evelyn Waugh

Never heard of it (showing my ignorance, I’m sure)

  1. Native Son, by Richard Wright
  2. Go Tell it on the Mountain, by James Baldwin
  3. Cat’s Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
  4.  Naked Lunch, by William S. Burroughs
  5. The Naked and the Dead, by Norman Mailer