Friday, My Big Day

Friday was my Big Day at conference because I did my workshop presentation first thing Friday morning. So I didn't have to worry and obsess about it all day, which was nice, but it made sleeping a touch difficult Thursday night.

Anyway, I got up early and washed my hair, because you know, a good hair day can boost all kinds of confidence, and fortunately, my hair cooperated. I went down for breakfast and ate with several of the Dallas area ladies, including Anita Learned who has a Panhandle link. I managed to go through most of my workshop notes before I went down, but was too...antsy, I guess...to get all the way to the end. (I wore gray pinstriped pants, a sleeveless aqua sweater with button & bead trim around the neck and the same black tux-style blazer (hey, it goes with everything I took to wear, doesn't wrinkle in luggage and I can even button it now), along with open-heel loafer-type shoes--my toes didn't get cold wearing them...)

Bron Jameson was already in the room being very professional and going over her intro. I felt very privileged having her moderate my session, being Ms. Three-Time Rita finalist and all. She made one teensy, tinesy bloop in the intro, which I wouldn't even mention, but she'll probably come and make a big comment about it--but I didn't even notice until she said something afterward. There was that platform I had to climb up to get to the mike and the podium, and I climbed up and down Twice without falling, so I was thrilled.

Then I did my Writing Action Scenes workshop. It is about doing those very active scenes, but since pretty much every actual scene is an action scene of some sort, that's where I started. With writing any kind of action. Then I segued into writing the chase/fight/commotion type scenes. I didn't get lost, and I didn't sound like an idiot--that I know of--so I think it went well. I gave away a gift bag with both books--The Compass Rose and The Barbed Rose--in it, and then gave a copy of each book to two different people. I'd have liked to give away more, but they're big books and heavy to carry, both in the suitcase and in the totebag.

After that, I was FREE!

I went to the Breaking Away from the Pack in a Nudist Werewolf World workshop, which was about how to make yourself different when you're writing in a popular sub-genre. I think it would have been good if I had been able to hold still. But I think I was having a reaction or something...couldn't sit still, had to leave. And I don't know what I did after that. I honestly cannot remember if I went to another workshop, or what... Maybe that was when I went to the Goody Room and the Book Fair. I'm pretty sure I didn't go up to the PAN workshops. Darned if I can remember. But at noon-ish, I met up with my agent and we had lunch at the American Grill there at the Marriott.

I was starving for vegetables by this time, so I had the salad, and salmon with baby veggies and a banana (foster) split--banana with a crepe and ice cream. Yummy. And talked with the agent about things I wanted to do. She said probably I need to finish the WWII book in order to sell it, so I'll be working on it between other things. And I just need to get some more proposals in to her. Proposals that work.

After lunch--which ended not long before 2 p.m.--I went to the Harlequin/Silhouette Authors' forum. And had a whole lot of trouble staying awake. It was good information, I wanted to hear it, but I kept falling asleep. So I decided that I might want to take a nap before the party Friday night. But I had things to do first.

We got out of the forum in time for me to slip in late to the Death & Taxes workshop and I got some good information there about taxes and retirement. I need to talk to DH about deducting my home office--the office is strictly reserved for writing, and the IRS has gotten a lot less sniffy about home office deductions, so... They've gotten a lot MORE sniffy about cell phones, though.

I thought about going to a late workshop on Friday, but I was so tired... I was heading up to my room, and one of the others on the elevator was going to the Orange County Chapter suite to see what was cooking there, so I decided to drop in too. And they were interviewing a Red Dress Ink editor for a pod cast. Apparently they interviewed a lot of editors and agents, so y'all might want to check out the OCC website for those podcasts. She had a lot of good info, but I couldn't make myself stay to the end. I was dropping, so I went my two floors back down, dumped my stuff and headed over to the food court to grab some supper. The plan was to eat in the room while reading, and then take a nap, since the party didn't start until 8 p.m. And the plan worked quite well. Got a good nap in. Then I got dressed for the party. (Silver T-shirt, black handkerchief hem chiffon skirt, dark royal blue belly-dancing scarf with silver sequins & bead fringe) It was walking distance, at the Ritz, and I wound up walking over with Bombshell author Cindy Dees and a couple of marketing people from Amazon who told us about their "shorts" program--little short-story tie-ins to our books on their website.

The party was amazing. I met some of the other LUNA authors at RWA--Maria Snyder and Jeri Smith-Ready--chatted with them and with Robin Owens. (Felt a bit like the jolly Green Giant, since Robin doesn't even come up to my shoulder.) Wandered around talking to everybody I know, saw some other people I haven't seen since Reno--Kristi Gold, who knew me back when neither one of us was published, and will be a launch author for Harlequin's new Everlasting line--and Cindy Gerard and--well, lots of other people whose names I can't remember now. Got to chat with Jenny Archer and Jodi Thomas (fellow Panhandle-ites). Danced like a maniac--had to be careful with that scarf--didn't want to brain anyone with all the bling--met new people--tried to sing R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (dang that's high! Sally Ride is more in my range.) -- only had one Bliss cocktail. (I don't drink much. Medication issues aside, I don't have many inhibitions to start with, and the ones I have, I'd just as soon keep...) Then caught a cab back to the hotel with Juliet and Emilie and Michelle and another woman whose name I have of course forgotten...Emilie wanted to walk, but we wouldn't let her. I think Michelle would have tackled her if she'd tried. We hung out in the lobby a while, then went upstairs to collapse.

Harlequin does throw some great parties. (They had a chocolate fountain, but I avoided it. Chocolate fountains and I do not mix. I'll tell the story later, if I haven't already.)

Okay, that's Friday. One presentation, a few workshops, a lot of exhaustion. One more day of craziness yet to come.

Conference Begins

Of course, the Big Book Signing on Wednesday night is really the Kick-off event for RWA National conference, but it doesn't feel begun to me until the first workshops begin. I got up bright and early Thursday so I'd get to the workshop I'd picked out right on time. (I wore my pink & black striped summer sweater with the bow at the neckline and little clear beads with black dress pants, a black tux-style jacket to pull on and off when my temperature control issues flared up, & flat backless sandals--my feet FROZE.)

I chose a workshop on "Presenting with Pizzazz" about how to present yourself at your very best whether giving a speech or workshop at a chapter meeting or conference, or giving a radio/television interview. It was filled with great hints--some of which will do me no good. The speaker--who does this professionally--suggested getting out from behind the podium and moving around a little in a workshop. I might if it were not virtually certain that I would trip over something or fall off of something while attempting this. (The room where I actually did my workshop had a raised platform where the podium and speaker table was set--if I'd tried to move around any, I would definitely have fallen off the platform.)

But there were other hints that have already been a big help, like avoiding dairy before speaking (it clogs the throat), and tipping the glasses slightly forward to stop glare from lights. I'm going to have to figure out how to do notecards instead of big sheets of paper to have my "speech" on, but it was a great workshop.

I went to Haywood Smith's workshop on Reinventing yourself and just loved listening to her talk. I remember laughing a lot. She had some good rules on when to re-evaluate, and lies to watch out for--none of which I can remember right now. The main thing was: This is a business and you have to take control of your career for yourself.

Then I was the moderator for a Query letter/marketing workshop by Lani Diane Rich called FINDING YOUR FUNKY BIRD. You will hear me fumble the workshop intro on the tape, because when I got up to introduce Lani and the workshop, I couldn't remember the workshop's subtitle (A New Approach to Marketing Your Manuscript) and didn't have it written in front of me. So I just intro-ed it as Finding Your Funky Bird. Ah well. I got to do transparencies and play with the overhead projector. It was cool. Lani's main point though was that you need to find the thing that makes your manuscript different from all the rest. The "funky bird" came from her manuscript that had the hero and heroine working together to rescue the heroine's kidnapped victim from crooks that want only a rare funny-smelling parrot as ransom. That was her unique attention-getter.

THEN I hurried upstairs to meet with the eHarlequin hosts. Jayne and the other hosts had invited a bunch of the authors who participate on the boards to go to a lunch at a nice restaurant out in Buckhead. Enough of us to require about 3 minivan cabs. Problem was, our cab driver didn't have a clue where the restaurant was. After driving to the totally wrong location, he had to call the restaurant and ask--the six of us who were in the cab together bonded as we drove all over north Atlanta for, oh, an hour and a half or so. Jennifer LaBrecque lives in Atlanta, and guided our impromptu tour: "This is the millionaire's part of town--in that grocery you'll see all the nannies with their kiddies--and coming up on the left, you'll see the governor's mansion..." Yeah, we saw the Georgia governor's mansion--a BIG square house with 2-story pillars around all 4 sides...

Anyway, we eventually got to the restaurant where the other poor people had waited lunch on us. (Some of them had to get back, and took their meals to go. We are SO, SO sorry!) Oh! And the cab driver wanted Sapphire to PAY HIM!!!!! After he got lost and wandered all over the place, he wanted her to pay not just the regular rate for driving out there, but about twice the fee! I think she finally paid him most of it--but one of our company (Julie Miller, riding shotgun) had memorized his name and cab number, so we called the cab company and complained vociferously. (Okay, Jennifer did. I stink at that sort of thing.) And when I got out of the very back seat of the minivan, I got stuck between the middle seat and the door (hush!) and had a little "cork out of the bottle" action getting out--and have the Biggest, Nastiest, Ugliest bruise on my leg--shaped just like the hardware on the seat.

So, we had a wonderful lunch (I had shrimp and grits--I'm not a big grits lover unless there's plenty of cheese, and these grits were wonderful--which gives you an idea of how much cheese was in them) with fabulous desserts, and by the time we got back to the Marriott downtown, it was 3:30, and I was late for my meeting with the Brainstorming Desireables. (You know who you are.) I know most of the ladies through the online loop, so I really wanted to get to meet the ones I didn't already know. I at least know what Mary Lou and Carol and Franny look like now! Then I had to leave as soon as I slugged down my Coke to go meet Kerrelyn Sparks (of Vamps and the City and How to Marry a Millionaire Vampire fame) to get ready for the Published Authors Special Interest Chapter's Editor of the Year award reception.

For the second year, I headed up the committee to choose PASIC's Editor of the Year. I really enjoy doing this. A lot. Anyway, I met Kerry early so I could sign the certificates for all the nominees and make sure I had the right letters to read for the winners. That's one of the reasons I like doing the Editor of the Year committee--I don't have to work up any speech, just read the letters of nomination. The editors are nominated by their authors, who (duh) are writers and can write the best, loveliest thoughts in a fun and touching way. They do the work for me. :)

Patience Smith is the 2006 PASIC Editor of the Year, and Charlotte Herschner was named Editor of Merit.

Once I handed out the awards, I got to mingle. Lots of editors and agents come to the reception, and it's a casual time to get to meet people. I met Adam Nevill of Virgin Press. Incredibly tall and broad-shouldered, shaved head, soul patch and the yummiest English accent--it was lovely just to stand nearby and bask in the testosterone, but I did manage to open my mouth and speak. Virgin Press has been doing erotica for the past ten years or so, but with the recent acceptability of the genre, it's doing even better and they are looking for new authors and more material. They don't want "porn language", but other than that, pretty much anything goes. They'd love to see paranormal story lines. They do want a story along with the erotica. Cheek is a livelier, younger-in-tone line than Black Lace. Sort of the Sex in the City version of Black Lace. And I got a card and an invite to send something. I'm still thinking. (Because of a workshop at the very last timeslot on the very last day, which I will talk about when I talk about Saturday.)

Let's see--I hung out and chatted with the ladies--Ann Roth, Jo-Ann Power and several others whose names I can't remember now--after the party wound down, talking about the upcoming chapter conference in New York until Alfie Thompson came out to tell us to come get food before it got thrown out, so I collected some more cheese and some quesadillas and carried them up to the room where I basically collapsed. I got out one of the goody-bag books and ate snackies and read until the roomies turned up. Juliet and I also shared with Karen Kelley who writes for Kensington Brava. I don't think I mentioned that before.

And that was my Thursday. I slept pretty good, considering that first thing Friday I was scheduled for my very first workshop given at RWA... but I'll tell you about that tomorrow.

Of Baseball and Big Fish

Okay, so we're still talking about RWA National. Yeah, I know other people were posting blogs while they were there, but they have laptops. I don't, and probably never will, given that I only need pen and paper most of the time I'm on deadline. (I do eventually have to type it into the computer, but I can be at home with the big desktop then...)

Anyway, I flew out of Amarillo on Tuesday. Nice short flight in a teeninesy little airplane--two seats on one side, only one seat on the other, and if you're any taller than my 5'8", you have to walk down the aisle bent over. In Dallas, I met up with a lot of other writers from the area, plus some from Houston and East Texas, including one of my roommates, Juliet Burns. Our seats were together, and we talked most of the way to Atlanta.

Writers don't talk a whole lot, ordinarily. At least I don't, having only the one child still at home who is generally either at work or in his room playing video games--or when he comes out to talk, he is the one talking. Mom is for listening. Anyway, when we arrived in Atlanta, my throat was already sore from talking.

They put us on the 37th floor. This would not have been so bad, but the Atlanta Marriott Marquis is one of those hotels with an atrium all the way up the middle and glass-backed elevators so you can admire the view. Lovely, unless you're one of those people who aren't fond of heights. Like me and Juliet. Fortunately, our room was right next to the elevator bank so we didn't have to walk along the balcony. I did eventually reach the point where I could walk around to the vending area, but I never could look out the glass on the elevators.

That night, a group of us had arranged to go to the Atlanta Braves baseball game. One of our company was Bronwyn Jameson, the triple-threat Rita finalist from Australia, and she wanted to experience that quintessential American event: baseball. So five of us--Juliet, me, Bron, Emilie Rose and Linda Steinman--rode the train to the Atlanta underground, hustled all the way through the underground to a shuttle bus, rode the bus to the stadium, and watched the ballgame. It was "mullet night" and it took me a while to figure out that all the players didn't really have mullets. They had photoshopped mullets onto the players' pictures for the big screen thing--but they did it very cleverly, matching hair color and curl, so--or maybe I was just oblivious. Probably that. I'm oblivious a lot. The Braves lost to the Marlins, but we had a good time.

The next morning, I had talked everyone into going to the Atlanta aquarium. The fella has been to Atlanta quite a few times, and he said that of all the things to see in Atlanta, the aquarium was the best--and it was pretty spectacular. We added Michelle Celmer and Leslie Marshman (I think--I'm sure of the Leslie, but the last name is iffy) to the aquarium tour group and all hiked off down Baker Street. And wow--

The coral reef with all the bright, bright fishes! And the tunnel beneath the huge whale sharks with their escort of little fish right in front of the sharks' mouth! And the penguins! And the otters! And the sea dragons! And--and--and--it was just totally cool. I got a big kick out of the Asian otters.

One of them was dragging a toy that looked like a bunch of tangled velcro strips as big as it was, and he was all like: NO, you can't play with my toy. I will hide my toy behind this tree so you can't play with it. And the other otter (who had a similar toy with a buoy in the middle) was like: Oh, that's a great idea! I'll hide my toy there too! And the first otter would go: NO! You can't hide your toy with my toy. I will hide MY toy over there! And the second otter was all like: YEAH, that is so totally a better place to hide my toy. Wait for me! And you could almost see the first otter's eyes crossing with rage as he hauled his toy to yet another hiding place. Okay, yeah, I'm a writer. I imagine otter conversations.

We also went to see the little animated 4D movie--I was very impressed because I could actually see the 3D stuff--a lot of times my weird eyes won't let me. And when the fishes splashed in the movie water, the theater would splash water on us. When the movie fishes swam through jelly fish, they dropped gummy worm feeling stuff on us--I kept checking to make sure it wasn't still in my hair, because that's where it hit me, but I think they pulled it back up as quick as it dropped. Anyway, it was a lot of fun. But after all the cool stuff, it was time to walk back to the hotel--and the first block was a hard uphill trudge. I kept up with all the skinny in-shape women, but I thought my heart was going to pound right out of my chest when we reached the stop light.

We had lunch at the food court in the Mall at Peachtree Center. Everybody had something different--well, except for two who had almost matching burritos. And then we headed for the hotel, some to work the registration desk, some to fall apart and rest up before the booksigning. I think that's when I went shopping too. Found some neat abalone earrings at the Museum of Design Arts store...

This is getting to be a really long blog, but I'm doing Tuesday and Wednesday together. Deal with it.

I wore my Loud Shirt with the Multicolored Horses to the booksigning. Usually I sit next to Geralyn Dawson, but she was two spaces away and I was between Sylvia Day and Kimberly Dean, both erotica writers. Kimberly Dean has apparently been writing erotica for about ten years and is one of the Big authors for Black Lace, and now does some things for Ellora's Cave as well. Sylvia Day writes for Kensington Brava and for Ellora's Cave. And there I was between them with my "hard core" Luna books.

I did sell a few books, gave away a few bookmarks, talked to a few people. I also bought a box of my books to ship home. I wanted to buy all that were left over. Instead, I bought all I could carry. One box. I left a teensy bit early to get to the Futuristic, Fantasy & Paranormal Chapter's Gathering for the Prism awards. The Compass Rose was up for one of them. I came in second--but given that this was the only contest I entered with Compass Rose, I was thrilled to have finaled at all.

And then I hauled that box of books back up to the 37th floor. I set them on the floor of the elevator--once I wrestled them up the escalator to the floor that had an elevator on it--and kicked them out of the elevator and the few feet to the door of our room. I just couldn't pick that box up another time.

And that was the end of Wednesday in Atlanta. More tomorrow.

Home from Atlanta

I'm home again and exhausted. It was a wonderful trip to RWA (Romance Writers of America) National Conference and I don't even know where to begin telling you about it.

I know it's been weeks and weeks since I blogged. The next time I tried to boot up my computer, while the grandboys were here, it wouldn't boot. It locked up somewhere in the middle and would do absolutely nothing. So I had to leave the son and spouse in command and hustle the machine to The Big City to get it fixed. Meanwhile, I was in charge of taking down names for the Published Authors Special Interest Chapter (PASIC) of RWA for our Editor of the Year reception in Atlanta--and here I was, in the last week before our RSVP deadline with a dead computer and no way to tell the committee chairman what was going on. ACK!! Oh, and the little boys were still here.

We had a great time with them. Took them swimming. Hung around the house. Goofed off. That kind of thing. Then we went to DH's conference in north Plano and gave the boys back to their parents. And went shopping. The conference had golf scheduled in the 102 degree Dallas heat and DH didn't want to play, so we hit the stores. Nice T-shirts for $2.50--yep, I went wild. And finally found something to wear to the Harlequin party in Atlanta at this neat import store in the shopping area near the hotel. A deep blue belly-dancing scarf with silver sequins and trim on it. It adds bling to pretty much anything...

Then we came home and I pretty much went into hibernation. Okay, I re-read ALL of Laurell K. Hamilton's books during the week, besides doing things to get ready to go to Atlanta and send the son back to college--you know, getting him an appointment at the eye doctor for new contacts and going with him to pay for it, finishing revisions on the workshop I was presenting and printing the sucker out--that sort of thing. We still have to find him a small desk to take along...

And then it was time to pack and get ready to go. And I'll tell you more about the trip tomorrow. I need to go rotate laundry, and then I think I'll take a nap. I'm REALLY tired. Later...

Cows for Birthdays

The grandboys have come to visit. The Big Guy will be five in a couple of weeks, and the Squirt is a few months over two. Big Guy has a list of things he wants for his birthday, and every day, he wants to know if it's his birthday. He has informed his daddy that he needs a cow for his birthday. I have no idea why, but he says he needs a cow.

So while the boys are at our house out here in very rural west Texas, we're going to try to let them see a real cow, up close and personal. I know where there are some horses they can go visit. But horses aren't actually on the birthday list. He wants a cow, and a sheep and a pig, but not a horse. Maybe he'll be happy with a toy cow...

The Big Guy has also come up with a numbering system for everyone in his life. When you ask him how old he is, he will tell you that he's Number One. Not that he's four years old, or almost five. He's One. Because, after all, he IS the center of his own universe. His daddy is #2, the Squirt is #3, and poor mom is relegated to #4. I'm #11, right after Uncle Bob at #10. Ah well...

They've only been here over one night. The Squirt is old enough now that when he's tired, he realizes that Mama and Daddy aren't around, but he stops crying when Gigi or Grandaddy lie down with him and read him a story, and actually falls asleep before we reach the end of the story. Unlike his daddy, or his aunt or uncle, actually. They stayed awake by sheer determination right to the bitter end.

I might get to the computer a few times this next week, but since I figure I'm going to be spending all my time chasing the boys, I doubt I'll have much to write about. Well, except for the cute stuff they do. It's going to be a fun--and exhausting--week.

The 4th of July

Today is the actual 4th. We've been celebrating since Saturday, but only now it is officially Independence Day.

I heard a bunch of firecrackers go off in the wee hours of last night--because of the drought and the danger of fire, "aerial" fireworks are banned in our county--and most of the counties around us, but I think firecrackers are still legal--though probably not in town. Talking to the local volunteer fire department's son over on the courthouse lawn, I learned that the weekend has been slow, fire-wise. There was one fire Sunday night, after the VFD's 100th anniversary celebration, but it's been quiet since then--knock on wood.

We walked over to the courthouse and had lunch--sponsored by the Shriners, not the Rotary. It's hard to keep all these benevolent organizations straight. When the July 4th barbecue started, 129 years ago (yep, it's been going that long), one of the local ranchers would donate a cow or two and they'd cook it over a firepit and everybody would chow down. These days, the barbecue is catered and we buy tickets, but everybody still finds a favorite spot in the shade and picnic on the lawn. Then we walked home again, to wait for the parade in the air conditioning. It's hot outside. The parade was right on time, with cheerleaders and horses and old cars--and about a dozen firetrucks. I'm amazed such small towns have so many firetrucks, but most of them are for fighting grass fires, with the hose on the front. Our neighbors had a float. Nobody lives there most of the time. Miss Phebe Ann passed away a couple of years ago, and a niece or nephew bought the house for their vacation house. They're having a family reunion this weekend, and they built "Phebe Ann's Phun Phamily Reunion Phloat." Made me grin. And then we walked home again. We have steaks out to grill for supper, and that's our celebration.

Oh, and we have woodpeckers. Several different kinds. Our big redbud tree has some dead limbs, so the woodpeckers have started to show up regularly. Ladder-backed woodpeckers, flickers, and today, I saw a big, gorgeous red-headed woodpecker right outside the kitchen window. I didn't know they came this far west, but apparently so. Yeah, my sister got me into bird-watching a number of years back. I'm not rabid about it, but I do get excited when I see something unusual.

Rodeos

We're still celebrating the 4th around here. It's not done till after tomorrow.

So, after we brought the bean pot home (and the fella washed it without me having to lift a finger, the darlin' man) and rested up all afternoon, we decided to go out to the ranch rodeo.

Now a ranch rodeo is not the same creature as a "regular" rodeo. Generally real, working cowboys compete--guys who spend every day doing these same kinds of activities--and the events are things like "team doctoring" and "sorting" and "team branding." In the saddle bronc riding event, the cowboys use their own saddles, and there are no special rules about holding on or spurs--the guy just has to stick in the saddle as long as he can any way he can.

Since the last son finished his Eagle Scout award and turned 18, and then graduated from high school and went away to college, we haven't had to work at the Boy Scout concession stand at the 4th of July rodeo, and believe me, it's a thrill to know that I can go out to the rodeo grounds and just sit in the stands and take pictures. (One of these days, I really am going to paint a rodeo painting.) Under the stands, in the concessions booth, it's hot as blazes, and you have to stand up the whole time. Especially if you're in the back assembling hamburgers and hot dogs. But we spent many years down there...

Anyway, Saturday night, we got to the rodeo arena in time for the posting of the colors--an impressive sight on horseback. And before the actual events began, they had all the youth events. Little bitty kids riding calves, steers and donkeys. (The bigger ones were on the bigger animals.) I couldn't believe those mamas and papas let their little ones out there to do it--but knowing some of the kids who were out there, I'm actually not surprised--those particular kids would dare anything and get mad if you didn't let them try. Most of them fell off the minute Daddy let go (the calves were small enough, Daddy fit right in the chute with them), but there were a few really little ones with Daddies who never let go, just lifted them right off when they started to slide. Nobody got hurt. A few of them got mad. A couple didn't want to get up off the ground, but that was just mad, or embarrassment.

Still, I was glad when it was over and the grown-ups got to play. I do like watching the cutting horses in the sorting. There's a bunch of ten steers with numbers on them behind a line drawn in the arena with flour, and a four-man team. One man is the sorter, the others hold the herd. The event ended with the "team doctoring." As the sorter crosses the flour line (and I watched them draw the line, so I know they made it with flour), he's given a number, and has to find that steer in the bunch and cut it out of the herd first and chase it to the other side of the line, then the two numbers after that, in order. If the wrong number crosses the line, they lose. If the numbers cross the line in the wrong order, they lose. If one of the numbers already crossed goes back across the line to join the bunch, they lose. Then, they have to rope the last steer they cut out--head and heels--lay it down and mark some part of it they're doctoring. And they're timed, and they only get three tries. Or they lose. It's really easy to get a "no time" in this event. Out of the 7 teams competing on Saturday, I don't think but two got a qualifying time.

I went down to talk to Jiggs and Evelyn in their box--various ranchers in the area have boxes at the front of the stands with aluminum folding chairs--not real comfortable, but they do have backs, which the regular stands don't have. And I could get closer to the action from the box to take my pictures. I don't think Jiggs is his real name, but I've never heard anything else, so I guess it could be. I've met people or called Rip, and Buster, and Buck, and Rabbit. And people's "real" names tend to be a bit out of the ordinary around here too. For instance, I know two Delberts. And they go by Delbert, not Del or Bert. Willard has passed on--he was the sweetest, orneriest fellow. The man who built our house and lived here for years was named Heckle. I love Texas country names.

There's still 4th of July celebrations yet to go. The barbecue lunch is Tuesday at noon on the courthouse lawn. Our county courthouse was recently restored and it's a true gem of the genre. We'll probably walk over, because there's not a whole lot of parking around there, and we're just a block and a half away. Then the parade will come by around two. The courthouse is a block off Kearney, aka Main Street, so I guess downtown has a teensy bit more than one street...The parade starts at the park, goes up Kearney to the highway (if they let us shut down the highway for a little bit), over one block to the courthouse and back down to the park. It'll be fun, if it's not too hot...

Small-town festivities

Independence Day, the 4th of July, is upon us once again, and our little town is celebrating.

I hear people talk about their small town upbringing, or the small town where they live, and when I ask just how small, I get back "Oh, just under 8,000." Which means that their small town is four times the size of MY small town. Not that I'm trying to upstage anybody, but when I say small town, I mean it. ;) Today was the bicycle parade. All the local kids, plus all the grandkids, nieces, nephews, cousins and strangers that people can dig up, decorate their bicycles and ride them up Kearney Street (aka Main Street--some people don't know what you mean when you say "Kearney Street") for all three blocks of downtown. Then they gather in the middle of the street in front of the library and the judges pick the best decorated.

I missed the actual parade because I had to run back home to fetch the fella's special recipe cornbread that we saved from the batch he'd already run--along with the beans we cooked all day yesterday--up to the church ministry center next door to the library. (He can't have flour, so I make it without.) I think he got bored sitting at home, because when he took the beans to the ministry center, he stayed to hang out with the guys cooking all the sausages in the parking lot outside between the center and the bank. Anyway, I did get to see all the kids on their bikes clustered beside the post office (where the parade began) and then in front of the library (where it ended). There were a bunch of them, and they sure were cute, so I'm glad I didn't have to judge. They asked me to judge one year, but I was late, and since the parade lasts about thirty seconds from beginning to end, I missed the whole thing, and they've been smart enough not to ask me again.

I thought they were going to have the turtle race today, but even though I saw the sign by the curb in the intersection where the race is held, I didn't see anybody with turtles, so I guess they're having the race on the actual 4th, along with all the stuff on the courthouse square and the "official" parade. Turtles have been pretty scarce this summer, as dry as it's been. I don't know how many they'll have at the race. If we could just get all those folks on the East coast who've had rain, rain and more rain to pack it all up and send it our way, I think we'll all be happy.

The ranch rodeo started last night, and I imagine we'll go tonight. They're having a youth rodeo on Monday, and I think Joe Robinson told me they would be doing bronc riding on Tuesday, on the 4th. This is Texas. Rodeos go with the 4th of July celebration. But fireworks will be scarce. Our whole county has banned aerial fireworks because of the risk of wildfires--and the fireworks association has sued the county--along with about a dozen others. They asked the judge for a restraining order, saying the ban violated freedom of expression. The judge turned them down, saying, essentially, "Freedom of expression, nothing. This is about safety and stopping more million-acre fires." I think there are three sanctioned fireworks displays in the whole Texas/Oklahoma panhandle area. So I guess we may be going into Amarillo to watch fireworks--if we can figure out where the park is...

Blinded by the Light

I may have blogged here that I have really funky eyesight. One eye is much more nearsighted than the other and the one that isn't so nearsighted has much more astigmatism. Plus the less dominant eye doesn't like to hold still, and it's getting worse now that I am reaching "a certain age." So I went yesterday to the opthalmologist to see what my options were about the situation. And I got my eyes dilated. The best news was that I have a couple of options, but who knows if either of them will work better than doing nothing? But no matter what I do or don't do, since I have reached adulthood and then some, and I still have vision in both my eyes, they'll keep right on seeing. One of them won't shut down on me, like it could have when I was a child. I might see double, but I will see. And I got my eyes dilated.

I've had it done many times before, but this was a new medicine they used. That may have been the difference. I put on my sunglasses and headed out to pick up my printer from the repair shop (YAY! I didn't have to wait till halfway through July to get it back!!!)--and a ways down the street, I realized the sun was just too bright, even with the sunglasses on. I had to keep blinking and squinting, and finally put one hand over one eye (the other one got a bit less of a dose, because one of the drops hit my eyelashes first) just to get to the repair place. I decided I'd go over to the bookstore, less than a block away, and wait till I could see again before attempting to drive home. This new medicine was supposed to take less time to wear off. Maybe I had an "ideosyncratic" reaction to it--I don't know, but it was about 4 hours later before I could look at the DVD wrappers facing the window behind me without the reflection nearly blinding me. And the signs were still pretty blurry when I got out to drive home. I have never had that extreme a reaction to getting my eyes dilated. Guess I'd better tell the doc so we don't use the same stuff next time...

Anyway, I wanted to finish my synopsis on the WWII book today, but I'm not exactly sure how I want the end to go, so I'm going to let it sit for a bit longer. Tomorrow for sure. Almost time to go put the beans on to cook for the Depression Dinner for the Independence Day celebration starting tomorrow. Pinto beans & cornbread for a quarter, but if you want sausage, drink, or dessert, be prepared to pony up some cash. And the ranch rodeo starts tonight. That's always fun to watch. Later y'all.

Falling down on the Blog

I admit it. I have totally fallen apart in my blogging here. I have Intended to post to my blog, but you see how far my intentions have taken me. Nowhere.

And I really have no excuse. I'm not doing much of anything else either. Okay, I did finish the revisions on The Eternal Rose (and worrying whether I did them right), and I got it mailed off this week. And I'm working on a new story that has no relation whatsoever to any other story I've ever done before in my life, but I've wanted to do it since I finished my MA in history and had all this research about China...so I've been reading and re-reading research books after resurrecting this story idea.

Reading tends to make me put everything else on the back burner. I become Ms. Lazy. The weeds are really growing in the flowerbeds. The skirt is still less than half put together. And other things stack up too. It's not just the research books I'm reading--and those are really fascinating to me--but I've read several others I enjoyed. Stayed up WAY too late reading DARK NEED by Lynn Viehl. And I reread Laura Kinsale's SHADOWHEART because when we had our garage sale, the books got rearranged, and the box with the historicals in it came up to the top, so I was able to dig it out. It is such a good read.

Anyway, I'm trying to piece together a synopsis. I have all the scenes I know I want to include--I'm just not sure what order they need to come in. The story will be told mostly in flashback, so things will be a bit disjointed. It makes it hard to figure out a synopsis.

Oh well, time to get back on track. Only a few more weeks till the grandboys come to visit. And then it's just a little bit of time til RWA national in Atlanta. Which means I probably ought to update and punch up that workshop I'm signed up to do there pretty soon, huh? Okay. It's going back on my list.

Did I mention my printer's broken? And it won't be fixed till mid-July, even though it's only one silly little piece that actually broke in two because the repair shop's really busy... What is it about my stuff breaking in two this summer? First the glasses, and now the printer. I need both of them to work! Ack!

Lost and Found

The fella has been hunting his sunglasses for more than a week. He knew he'd got home with them after the trip to the nephew's graduation, but they vanished somewhere. He can't just go out and grab another pair from the Outpost (the local pharmacy/five-and-dime/jewelry store/deli/gas station), because they're prescription. We just had to keep hunting.

Today, I found them.

I was out this morning--all physical activity must be done early in the a.m. while it's still cool enough for exertion--planting the caladiums and coleus I'd bought/rooted and preserved all winter for the shady place under the pine trees. I've been putting this off for a month, but couldn't put it off any longer. The dirt was watered and as soft as it's ever going to get. So I dug holes and planted (didn't rub any new blisters, even though I didn't wear my gloves again). And about three caladium pots into the job, I discovered a foreign object tangled up in the white caladium leaves. The missing sunglasses.

Apparently he'd stuck them in his shirt pocket and they fell out while he was watering the plants waiting for planting. This actually was not one of the weirder places I have found missing glasses. Just the most recent.

Oh, and I'm up to chapter seventeen in the editing. Only 13 more to go.

Editing

I want to finish the last run-through edit of The Eternal Rose this week. I'm 7 chapters in, and unfortunately stayed up WAY too late last night reading the newest Wen Spencer "Tinker" book. I think I liked this one better than the last. Spencer can come up with some really complicated plots!

Anyway, life is putting right along. I didn't do nearly as much last week as I intended, and this week doesn't seem to be shaping up to be a whole lot better. Reading does that to me. I read, and don't do much else.

I did get Devil in Blue Jeans off in the mail. Now I'm working on research for Shadows of Burning which is the tentative title for the WWII historical I want to write. While also editing the last Rose book. And planting stuff that came in the mail. And... well, doing lots of stuff. This is a terrible blog post, but that late night thing--it definitely interferes with brain function. So I'm going to stop now, and go work on other stuff like putting my edits in the computer. Then I think I'll take a nap.

Reading again

I've been "off" reading for a week or two. And may go back off again when I get busy working again, but this weekend I got into some reading, and had lots of fun at it.

I read Neil Gaiman's Stardust first, and really enjoyed it--which honestly kind of surprised me. A lot of people love his stuff because he has such beautiful lovely prose--which he does--and while I do appreciate lovely prose, I mostly read for the story. And a lot of his stories tend to involve wandering around strange landscapes looking at stuff. This one did too, but it was more interesting than the last one I read. Maybe because it was a little shorter and thus faster paced. I don't know. All I know is that I liked it. Matthew Vaughn is making a movie of it, so I'm looking forward to that.

I also read Wedding Survivor by Julia London, which was a cute story about a novice wedding planner who gets involved in planning a wedding for two movie stars in a remote mountain location. She falls for one of the extreme sports tour operator/stunt coordinator guys who is hired to make the wedding happen--he can do the remote mountain stuff, but not the wedding stuff. It was fun.

Then I read Talk Gertie to Me by Lois Winston. This story had me laughing out loud at times, and chuckling most of the rest of the time. It's one of those stories where the heroine's life falls totally apart, then by means of her resurrected childhood imaginary friend, Gertie, manages to put her life back together much better than before. I enjoyed the heck out of this story. It's a really smashing debut book. Can't wait till Lois's next one!

Um--writing: Typed in a few pages. Wrote nothing.

Went to see Mission Impossible III with the spouse this afternoon... It would be really nice if we could go see movies indoors (not at the local drive-in through all the bugs on the windshield) without driving 60 miles cross country, and then 60 miles back home again...

Sewed a quilt block. That is the sum total of my accomplishments for today.

I'm tired

It's Sunday night after a busy, busy week. And a busier weekend.

Saturday was the meeting of PPW, Panhandle Professional Writers, which is pretty much the only operational writer's group in the Texas Panhandle. It caters to all genres and has lots of romance authors as members, as well as inspirational writers and Western writers and freelance article writers--just a little bit of everything. And since I'm the secretary for a couple more months, I needed to be there. I always enjoy going to the PPW meeting, because I always come away inspired to get back to work, and have such a good time talking to other writers.

I left early because the guys (the spouse and the son) were in town, at an auction. Yeah, the fella went back, after buying the place out last week. This time, he didn't get some of the things he wanted, but did get the lovely teapots I wanted (we got four of them this time) and a bedframe for the boy's bed plus 8 boxes of assorted...stuff. Or should I say "stuff." Most of it will go to the son's college apartment in the fall--dishes, glasses, a Crock-pot--things like that. I think people are beginning to learn that I collect teapots. (I also collect little boxes...) (And jewelry. But then, I think there are a lot of women who collect that.)

We had to drive home, then drive back to town for the evening, because I got tickets to see Damn Yankees at the Amarillo community theater. It was a fun evening out. I'd heard most of the songs before, but never seen the whole show all at once at one time, so I really enjoyed it. One of the characters--one of the "sisters" who's a fan of the hero's--reminded me so much of my sister I had to keep checking to make sure--she laughed like my sister, even looked a lot like her when she laughs.

And today, we planted most of those roses that came in the mail. During the heat of the day. Had to be over 100F (38C). I was the one who went to fetch the plants, held them while the hole was dug, poured in the dirt--and two of the silly things attacked me. Yep, I was bleeding from rose-thorn scratches before all was done. But they should do well. (And the scratches were on the back of my hand, so won't interfere with writing.)

Back to work tomorrow. It's going to be a short week, so I'll get as much done as I can before we head south for the nephew's graduation. Wish me luck.

Friday again

So this was a pretty good week, writing wise. I revised the chapter I'd already written. I re-wrote my synopsis and got it down to under 10 pages. Then I wrote twelve more pages for the week. I might, possibly, have Chapter Two written. We'll see, once I get it into the computer.

The roses for our back flower bed came in today. We have 8 red roses like the ones out front (see picture) and 8 yellow floribunda roses. I think the plan is to alternate them. (It's a BIG flower bed.) I think I might have to plant roses tonight--but usually, I don't have to dig the holes myself. I did finish planting the annuals I'd bought for the front beds...

But we're still waiting for the day to cool off. It got up to 97F today (about 36C)--May, even late May, is early for it to be this hot around here. Oh well. Maybe we'll get more rain in a week or so.

Completion

I finished it. The Loudest Shirt In Texas. And yes, if you look closely, you'll be able to see that I did put all different colored buttons on the shirt. I bought buttons while in Waco, because I was going that way anyway, and I wanted to finish before I got around to going to Amarillo again (even though Amarillo is about 300 miles closer). But now I have the Loudest Shirt in the state of Texas, and I'm going to wear it when I go to Amarillo tomorrow. At least you will be able to see me coming.

Writing today-only two (2) brand new pages, but I revised the entire first chapter, and got the whole thing into the computer.

I was worried that the tone of this story wasn't right for what I wanted to do with it, but I wasn't sure what I needed to do to make it right. I think I've figured it out now. I can't possibly have a demon who is nicer that Anne Stuart's hero in Black Ice. So I have to mean him up some. Tomorrow I ought to be able to finish the corrections and maybe get it all typed in.

Outside my window

I wrote this morning. (Eight (8!) pages--yayyy!!!) And when I wasn't actually putting words on paper (freakish longhand writer, remember?), I was staring out the window in front of my desk. (look a few photos down)

(The blue sage in the picture is actually out back, next to the driveway--I can't see it from my window--but it's pretty, isn't it?)

It's spring, and the birds are out in full force. There's a blue jay nesting somewhere in the vicinity, because a jay flies down and chases off all the other birds periodically. But the robin keeps coming back. Because I've been digging the stinkin' Bermuda grass out of the flowerbed in front of my south-facing window, there's lots of stems and strands of dried grass lying around, and apparently those strands are just the sort needed for robin nests. He's very picky about just which grass stem he uses to build his nest, picking up and discarding several in a row before finding one that suits him. Still, it's obvious I'd rather watch Mr. Robin than write.

The other window, the one that faces east, looks out under a big pine tree and is shaded most of the day. Nothing grows too well under that tree, or the two tall junipers beside it on that side of the house, and finally, in our second year of living here, the fella has decided to listen when I told him the best thing to do under these nice, shady evergreens is to just Pave It. So we've been plotting out a meandering path from the driveway in the back around to the front sidewalk, and a little patio for a reading chair under the trees, and maybe even a hedge to create a private little room (though it would make the shade even deeper...). We shall see if this patio and path come into being, but it's nice to look out at the shade and think about it...

Now if I can just get all that stinkin' grass dug up! All the petunias are planted. 24 verbena yet to go--plus the 16 roses I'm trying to order...

Thursday: 8 pages
For the week: 24 pages

Endings and Beginnings

Yesterday, I went to a funeral. Onita Thomas was a dear lady who'd lived almost her whole life in our small rural community, and worked as a nurse for the majority of that time. She raised four boys, so while she was a kind, generous, loving soul, she also knew how to let people know they'd stepped over the line, and they'd better start toeing it again. Even after the doctors decided they couldn't treat her cancer, she continued to work as a nurse at the only doctor's office in the county, right up till two weeks before the end. They shut the office down for her funeral. The whole county pretty much shut down. You had to get there early if you wanted a seat. I'm glad I got the chance to know Onita and her family. Her son and daughter-in-law are very good friends of ours, and a grandson from a different family is a good friend of our son's.

Things like this can wreak havoc on work and ordinary life, but I did manage to get a little bit done. I got 5 pages written yesterday, and worked in the garden digging up more of that nasty Bermuda grass and planting petunias while the fella planted hollies and purple Texas sage. Then I put some of the grass I dug up in the bare spots under one of the pine trees where the neighbor's butchered elm tree will let light reach now. We'll see if it takes...

Tuesday: 5 pages
Wednesday: 4 pages, so far. (I'm going to try to write two more--or maybe do 8-1/2 tomorrow...)

Beginnings and Endings

It's Monday again. Started the actual writing on Devil in Blue Jeans, after some procrastination. And I finished the totebag I've been trying to make for ages for my friend. I made her one back ten years ago, and she's just flat worn it out. So I tried to make her another one, and it didn't turn out right--too short to hold stuff. Anyway, I tried it again. The problem was the webbing/belting used for the straps--the short problem happens when I don't get enough webbing, so I bought lots and lots this time. The totebag is finished and perfect--denim lined with pale pink satin--yeah, have to take a picture of it and post.

So today's accomplishments: wrote 6-1/2 pages (I almost stopped at 5-1/2 pages, but decided if I wanted to write 6 pages a day, I ought to write 6 pages--and then kept going for a bit. ) And made one totebag.

Who's Got the Buttons?

Not me. It wasn't until I had finished my Really Loud Horse Print Shirt that I realized that I had forgotten to buy buttons for the shirt. I went through my stash--everyone who's ever sewed much will have a button stash--if only the "Extra buttons" that come in the tiny ziplok bags with new clothes--I spent several hours going through my button jar and trim stash (the place where all the lace and rickrack and seam tape is kept), pulling out leftover buttons from old projects and extra buttons off various purchases. I dumped all the single buttons into the bottom of the jar, used the leftover plastic bags to hold matching sets, and came up with five black buttons and one hot pink button of the correct size. The shirt requires six buttons.

The store where I bought the fabric--the only one in town that sells it--only had big packages of "assorted buttons" that were too small for the shirt, and no guarantee all the buttons would be the right color. So I tried to decide if I could get away with putting the pink button at the top and black ones the rest of the way down. I asked the fella for his opinion, and he thought I should use pink ones all the way down. Or maybe multi colors--pink and purple and blue and green and yellow and orange--the colors of the horses on the black background... So now I get to go into the "big city" and shop for buttons. I think they're half-price at Hobby Lobby this week...

Oh, and I wrote last week too. I did get the synopsis finished for Devil in Blue Jeans. It's 18 pages long which is much too long for a 75,000 word book--but then in fantasy/paranormal synopses, you have to spend time explaining the fantasy elements, besides the story elements... I had to go back and rewrite the thing, almost from scratch, once--but only once. I'll let it sit while I start the book, and when I get the chapters written, maybe I'll know how to shorten it--or I'll know it can't be shortened. One or the other.

I don't think I mentioned this here either...New Blood has gone in to Luna. I should know if they want it by some time early in July. Cross all your fingers. :)

Bigger in Texas

I don't know if everything really is bigger in Texas, but a lot of things are. And if they're not bigger than everywhere else, they're plenty big enough to suit me. I don't want them bigger, thank you. Like hail.

Our little town had a humdinger of a hailstorm yesterday. Fortunately, I wasn't in town--I was in Amarillo purchasing petunias--but the fella called me on my cell phone to make sure I wasn't out walking to the post office or something, because the hail was on its way in, and it was supposed to be bad.

It was. He didn't have time to drive his new(ish) car home and put it in the garage for fear of getting hit by the hail while trying to reach the car, so it sat outside and got seriously dinged. Not just dents--and there are some big ol' dents--but the tennis-ball-sized hail put a ginormous crack (multiple cracks, actually, like a baseball hit it) in the windshield. Now both of us need our windshields replaced. (Mine suffers from truck-thrown-gravel cracks--two of them.)

Nobody got hurt, that I've heard, and the local grapevine is pretty good so I think I'd have heard. But I think there will be a lot of new roofs and new windshields around town in the near future. Best news though was the good rain that came with the hail. A few more rains like that--without hail--and they might lift the burning ban and let us cook on our backyard grill again...

It's almost six. Need to go outside and put those petunias in the ground...

Oh, I finally finished the synopsis on Devil in Blue Jeans, after starting completely over and restructuring only once.

The Queen of Klutz-land

I'm writing this without benefit of the right-side shift key, so if I miss any capitalizations, that's why. I'm trying to compensate, but... And I had a hard time finding a split-arrangement keyboard that last time I had to replace one. (sigh)

Anyway, I have--after lo, this many years--decided that I must be the ruling monarch of Klutz-land. I am amazed that I have not killed myself, given all the things I've tripped over, fallen into, onto, between and down. The latest only reinforces the idea. I tried to step from one bathmat to the other in the in-laws upstairs bathroom, missed and went down in slow motion. Lovely bruise on the left knee, missing bits of skin on the right pinky fingers. (Owie!) The twisted knee is all better today.

I started my career as Queen of the Klutzes at an early age. I have vision issues which include poor depth perception, which explains much of the tripping-over-curbs, but cannot explain turning a swingset over on myself at the tender age of five or so...or flipping upside down in my sea-horse swim ring at about the same age. Then there was the young man in college whose face I pitched into when I lost my balance just as he was about to kiss me good night. And the Weimeraner that ran me down on the one day I wore a skirt to class that week (A short one!) in the middle of the mall where pretty much every student on campus passed that time of day. I was so embarrassed I didn't even get the name of the guy who helped me up.

In later years after I married and had children, I graduated to greater things. Like the time I took a header down the steps in church, between Sunday School and church, when everyone was moving past the stairs I fell down. I didn't just fall. I held on tight to the bannister, my head went down, my feet went up, and I did a lovely 360-degree flip, sliding the last few steps to land on the floor at the feet of the District Judge with my skirt up around my waist. Never jumped to my feet so fast in all my life.

I learned that I really cannot judge distances very well, and when stepping from one thing to another, like from a bus to the curb, or from a boat to a dock, I really ought to grab hold of something to be sure I know where everything is. But once, when we had an actual slip for our skiboat (before the motor gave up the ghost), I thought I could get off the boat while carrying the big waterski. The boat was tied up in the slip, front and back. How hard could it be? So I gauged my distance, calculated the size of the step I needed to take, held on tight to the ski and promptly fell between the boat and the dock. Only one leg went in the water, I came out with nothing more than bruises, but I learned my lesson. I make somebody come take my hand before I get off the dang boat, or I go off the side into water with nobody around.

Has nothing to do with writing, but lots to do with life. Besides, when there are little bits missing from the skin over your typing fingers, it Hurts!

Still working on the synopsis for Devil in Blue Jeans...

Happily-Ever-After

Today is my wedding anniversary. Thirty (Yes, 30) years today. Happy endings do exist in reality. No, there's no guarantee, and things could go kaboom tomorrow, which is just more incentive to keep making sure the relationship works, right?

I got flowers--white lilies and white gladiolas, which were the flowers we used at our wedding. (The week after Easter that year, too, as I recall.) He had to come home and ask me what kind of flowers they were, because he couldn't remember, but I give him points for thinking of it. We're going out to dinner tonight--don't know whether here in town or he's willing to spring for the drive to Amarillo... Anyway, it's been a good day. He's a good guy, and I'm ready for 30 more years. :)

Drive-by Bragging

Quick post here, but the lovely ladies at Smart Bitches who Love Trashy Novels just posted a lovely, lovely review (did I tell you they are lovely bitches?) of The Compass Rose, which is the first book, the one before The Barbed Rose. And it's fabulous. I'm grinning ear to ear. Oh, and if you want to read it yourself, it's here. I think I put in enough links for you to find it... Yeah. I'm happy.

Beat-with-a-Stick Tired

I do feel like I've been beat with a stick. I spent the morning pulling weeds, hoeing weeds and digging Bermuda grass out of my front flower bed. (Here is my yearly litany: I HATE BERMUDA GRASS--at least when it gets in my flower beds...) The day's not even half over yet, and I'm tired. Even if I were younger, I'd be tired. That's hard work, y'all.

So now I'm ready for the blue sage and the switch grass (or maybe it's fountain grass) and red dianthus and white anthemis I ordered from the dry-gardening catalog from Santa Fe to arrive next week to fill in the spots between the stuff that survived from last year. More of the lilies I planted survived than I thought, and one of the roses is actually showing a bit of red on a bud, and all of the mums survived the winter's drought, and most of the dwarf yaupons are putting on leaves, even the ones growing in caliche, or the equivalent. None of the iris are budding out yet, but they look healthy, so I'm happy. And tired.

I will post pictures of the stuff I'm making on my website when I get them finished and get around to taking pictures and downloading them from the camera and updating the website. Those of you who've been around a while know that this can be a rather long process, since I am the queen of procrastination, and all. But it will eventually happen. Now I've ironed the interfacing on my shirt collar (the one I borrowed from the other pattern), I can probably get most of the shirt sewed up in an afternoon. It's mostly a matter of marking off the afternoon to do it.

And you know, only the multi-colored-horses-on-black print is extremely loud. The red satin is very subtle. It looks just red at first, until you look closer and see all those subtle tones swirled over the red. I'm leaning toward a loose shirt/blouse with ruffles that fall over the hands, and maybe ruffles on the collar or down the front with that one... bit of a "poet's shirt" only in bright red.

I'm tired...and the day is only half over. Need to go dry my hair and put on make up for a lunch at a friend's way the heck out in the country.

And then I really ought to update the website...

Friday Thoughts

Have you noticed? I really stink at titles. I can hardly come up with titles for my books without help, and I sure can't title my blog posts, as you might have noticed. But hey, I had Monday thoughts a while back, so surely I can have Friday thoughts.

Monday thoughts tend to be "had a good weekend but dang, there's a lot of stuff to do this week." Friday thoughts are more like "look at all the stuff I got done" or "look at all the stuff I DIDN'T get done that I'm going to have to do next week!" This was a "wow, I got a lot done" week.

I finished up the first round of revisions on The Eternal Rose and got them down to under 600 pages. I want to get it down a little lower, but I'm going to let it sit a while.

I also finished revisions on the proposal for New Blood (working title, but I kinda like it). They went back in the mail to the agent today.

And I cut out that loud shirt--there wasn't a collar pattern piece in the envelope of the old pattern I wanted to use (didn't want set-in sleeves), so I had to borrow the collar pattern from the new pattern I bought (the one with set-in sleeves). Hopefully, it will fit. Same pattern company, same type of shirt, same size, so... I have sewing on my to-do list for today.

I also cut out the strips for the Compass quilt I'm making. Amber Jenell's comment on the last blog post motivated me, so thanks Amber! It will probably take me another month to figure out how to sew them together--it's a new technique I've never done before--but hey, I'm further along than I was before, right?

And I finished my chicken painting. Haven't taken a picture of it yet--the hay's still wet, and the chicken beaks. They reflect too much light if I don't wait for the paint to dry. But I did take pictures of some of my other paintings...I'll have to get them posted, huh?

Oh yeah, and I fed my fabric habit. I bought two pieces--one for a very twirly-type skirt (black crepe with big red roses), and a piece of red-orange-purple swirly print satin I have no idea what to do with, but I thought it was really pretty, so I bought it anyway. I could make another one of these twirly skirts, if the first one works, I guess. I could have bought a lot more--there was some Gorgeous Asian brocade--but I told myself I couldn't buy any more till I made up what I've already bought. Y'all hold me to it.

Summer's here

At least it feels like it. It's been up in the 90s (32+ for you Celsius folks) since last week, and April is WAY early for it to be this hot in this part of Texas. But I've been indoors working away on those revisions. I'm down to 590 pages, and hope I don't have to cut too much more.

Spent the weekend visiting. The youngest came up from college with a big pile of homework for his theater costume class. The class is crowded, with a lot of kids needing to use the few sewing machines in their shop and a lot of students for the teachers to spread their instruction across, and he needs a lot of individual instruction on this sewing stuff. So he brought his fabrics and his assignments and I brought my machine down and we set up shop in his grandparents' upstairs office. He had to make a medieval peasant shirt for one project, and then for his final grade, he had to make a costume. Any costume. But it had to be more involved than just a pair of boxers. A bathrobe was okay.

So we decided on an Arthur Dent costume from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Arthur spends the whole movie in his bathrobe and pajama pants. Friday night, we cut out the peasant shirt, and the flannel pants and the bathrobe (after going to buy the fabric at Walmart). Late Friday, he sewed up the pants without me. (He'd already made a pair of "peasant" pants for another project, so knew all the steps.) And Saturday, he spent all day sewing the shirt and bathrobe. He did all the work. He just needed somebody to tell him what to do and how to do it. Just reading "Gather top sleeve edge between notches" in the directions doesn't tell you how to do it if you've never done it before.

Mom (aka, me) made a major mistake on the shirt...We didn't mark which piece was the front and which was the back, and I had him sew the front facing piece to the back of the shirt. And slash it open. Oops!

The only difference it really made was that the back was a little higher at the neck than the front. Since the whole shirt body was just gathered into the collar and didn't have to lie smooth, I trimmed the piece down to match the "real" front and we had no problems. (Didn't have enough fabric to cut another back...) Good thing the shirt was meant to fit loosely, though. (Whew!)

Other than that, things went smoothly. And you can see the finished project here.

The boy hated all the sewing. He kept saying his fingers were too fat for this kind of work. But I kinda had fun. It reminded me of all the fun I used to have sewing clothes. So when I got back home again, and needed to go wash all the bugs off my windshield, I stopped at the Outpost (which is a combination gas station/pharmacy/deli/convenience store/jewelry-gift store/five-and-dime with fabric store) and bought the LOUDEST piece of fabric I have seen in years (it's black with bright, bright horse silhouettes on it) to make a shirt for myself. My zodiac shirt is wearing out and I need a new loud shirt. Yes. My name is Gail, and I'm a fabricoholic...

But I'm Determined to make time for these things I have enjoyed in the past. Yeah, I know. I still haven't cut out the compass quilt strips...it's on my list!

Meanwhile, my mornings are devoted to revising the New Blood proposal.

Those dratted revisions

It's Wednesday, and I finally got all the way through the enormous book. I need to take quite a bit more out of it, but I have read all of it and (hopefully) put most of the edits in. And it's still too long. I need to cut yet one more major scene out of it and fiddle with bits and pieces here and there.

I was so determined to get all the way through to the last page, that when I finally turned it and looked at my watch, I'd missed the first half-hour of the Friends of the Library meeting. I'd have blown it off, but I told them to order me a sandwich, so I jumped up and went--just in time to get myself on a committee. (But it was a great lunch! Croissant sandwiches...) Organizing a photo contest for kids will be fun, though, I think.

But the edits are moving along. I'm not sure I'm successfully beating them into submission, but they are moving... Oh, and I'm trying to update the website too. And hold a contest for my newsletter. (Visit the website to learn about it.) And way too many things to hold in my head all at once.

Survival

YAY! I survived the weekend cooking/party hosting marathon. I began to worry that I might not make it, but the kitchen is clean, the food is all put up, and I even got a nap this afternoon. They were good parties. I got to talk to lots of friends I don't always get to talk to as often as I'd like. And I even got my quilt block for March made and picked up the April block.

So now I get to go back to my revisions. I think I'm going to have to take out some of the scenes I really didn't want to remove. Ugh. We shall see, but the numbers aren't going down much so far. I keep having to slip in sentences and paragraphs here and there to explain things. And I need to work on revisions for New Blood too, sometime. It's only a proposal still, but that needs to be done. Maybe I'll finish up with these, then work on New Blood, then go back to The Eternal Rose to look at it again. I have the time.

Back to the ol' routine...

Life in the Slow Lane Suddenly Got Fast

I think I've mentioned a number of times here that I live in a very small town in rural NW Texas. It really is life in the slow lane. If you're going to have something to do around here, you have to come up with it yourself. There are a lot of ladies' clubs and town activities. I'm on the Friends of the Library and a member of the Art Club. I take part in the "quilt block of the month" the County extension agent offers. And this weekend, it has all decided to happen at once.

There's a luncheon for the local "Art" club Friday and it's my turn to help host--tomato and onion slicing and decorating later this afternoon (the others are cooking the rest of it). Then when that's over, I get to help decorate for a wedding shower that I'm helping to host for the daughter of a dear friend. Fortunately, I was nominated to pick up the gift, so that's done. I don't have to provide any of the food or decor. The shower is Saturday morning, then I have to cook for all the college students we're having over for Sunday dinner. Oh, and I'd like to squeeze in the quilt class before the shower, but the block has yet to be sewn up. And the lady who cleans my house was sick this week. Am I insane, or what?

So here I sit reading e-mails and blogging. I did get some revisions done this a.m.--but I may have to go back over what I did and slice out some more. (sigh) Outside the window, the wind is blowing dirt down the street and knocking pine cones out of the tree. I walked to the post office earlier and got a nice dermabrasion from the wind, it's blowing that dirt so hard. My face still stings, and I'm still spitting out dirt. Ugh. This is why we can't grill our hamburgers outside for the luncheon. Nobody wants a repeat of the fires.

Y'all take care. And wish me luck.

Home again

I went to Dallas over the weekend to the Dallas Area Romance Authors "Dreamin' in Dallas" workshop.

I sold several books at the booksigning Friday, and one more on Saturday when I forced myself out of my instinctive introvert shyness-mode and mentioned my books when someone asked what books at the Bookfair I'd read that I really loved. A completely different person perked up and wanted to know which ones, and bought Compass Rose, since she hadn't read it. I sold to a couple of completely new-to-me readers, which is always a good thing. If they like it enough to come back and get the next book.

And I went to some good workshops and talked writing with a lot of fun people, and I brainstormed two books. I wanted to do three, but my roomies/critique partners started falling asleep. Oh well.

Then I got to see the older son and the grandboys for lunch on Sunday, which is always fun. They're getting so big! The baby will be TWO this month!!!

I wound up on a friend's blog--she's trying to post "second sale" stories, and since it took me two years to make that second sale, I figured I was a cautionary tale. Anyway, if you're interested, you can read it here, on Lori Devoti's blog.

Back to the revisions. I'm up to chapter 8, and have cut 4 pages--but I added in a bunch of stuff the editor wanted, so I've actually cut More than merely 4 pages. It's just that I've added at least 4... Oh well. Let's see, that means--um (wait! higher math required here)--let's see... 96 pages left to cut... Ugh.

Decisions, decisions

I got my revisions for The Eternal Rose in the mail today, a big, fat, huge package that I then hauled around the park in my morning constitutional (aka walk) before hiking up the little baby hill to home. Good thing I got more of my walk in today before I picked up the mail--that sucker is really heavy. (I had to take the car to get the oil changed, so I dropped it off, swung by the library, a block and a half from there, to leave some books and computer CDs I was donating, then the block and a half to the post office, then... Have I mentioned I live close to downtown in a very small town?)

So I have those revisions to work on this week. Which is a good thing, because once I finish them up, I have no idea what to attempt next.

This can be a big deal to some of us on occasion. When one is working on contract, it's usually obvious what needs to be written next. However, I have finished up (mostly) my current Luna contract, and have already sent the proposal for the option book to the agent. I have also sent a fantasy romance manuscript. Now what?

This is going to require some thought. What of my current ideas has the best shot at actually making a sale? (Remember those goals of mine?) Maybe I need to make up something new to target to a new opportunity. Maybe I need to try something completely different, without any fantasy/paranormally elements. What if all of the things I have out circulating suddenly sell? Will I have time to write them all? Is that a problem I will mind having? Will I make myself crazy before I finally decide what to work on?

Well, yes, probably...

The New Desk

The desk has arrived. It is beautiful. The computer is moved to its new location. Now I have to work on getting the rest of the stuff stashed.

I have a big box of paper that will probably go into the L-corner. I have a square basket-with-lid that holds a lot of the other types of paper that I need to empty. I thinned out my crate of CDs and can move some of those. I no longer have a place to put my hunky fireman calendar though... Don't know where the guys will go. Maybe I can find a really strong magnet with a hook that can hold it on the side of my file cabinet... And I need a new, longer telephone cord.

I'm just so good at fooling around on the computer rather than straightening things up. I'd rather do almost anything than organize stuff. Ah well.

At least the fella did not find the camera (it was right behind him, but he didn't look) while I was sprawled across the desk on my stomach with my feet kicking in midair trying to get the surge protector plugged into the corner behind the desk. And yes, when I get round to downloading the picture of the desk, I'll post it. Somewhere. Those round to-its are sometimes hard to find...

Spread the word!

I can't believe I've been doing it wrong all these Years...

We Must Get the Word Out!!!

A friend sent this, and I thought it was cute, particularly because several friends on a loop and I are encouraging each other in our weight loss efforts. I'm working very slowly at it, but it's working. Very slowly.

Monday things

I got an e-mail from the daughter with a link to her LiveJournal where she put up a little picture dictionary of her 3-year-old's vocabulary. We are very excited he has a vocabulary--he didn't even babble when he was 2. Anyway, it's very cute, and you are invited to go visit.

And I got a call from the older son today, that he'd gone into a bookstore, and was looking round for my book because he thought it was out now (which it is--The Barbed Rose is), but when he asked at the service desk, they'd sold out and re-ordered five more copies. We both thought that was pretty cool.

I have not yet moved any plants, but I have pulled ten books out from under the table and put them in their stacks. (Of course, I have probably 20 more under there.) (Or more.)

I also mailed my Luna option book to the agent, and started the re-write on the dragon story. So it's been a somewhat productive day. And I can still move plants. Probably ought to water them first, huh...

Rain, Lovely Rain!!!

Yes, it's raining! Our first decent rain in six months. It rained very lightly and softly yesterday--more of a mist, really--and softened the ground up so that today's slightly harder rain can really soak in. It's not enough to make up for the drought conditions, not yet. But it's a start, and it put out the remaining fires...

In other news, I'm getting a new desk!

I'm all excited about it. We shopped and shopped, until my feet were killing me, and finally found a really pretty wood L-shaped desk with storage and everything. I can't get a hutch-bookcase, because it has to fit in the corner in front of the windows--there's a window on each wall, low enough that the desk will cover up the lowest row of panes. So whichever way I turn to work, I get to look out a window.

This means, however, that I have to find a new home for most of the houseplants that live in that corner, and move out the plant stand. Then I have to clean off the current work table and find a place for all the stuff under and on top of it. (Okay, the lamp and the printer and the box of Puffs will go on the new desk...) And then move the table out. It's not too awful... Wish me luck!

The Week The Panhandle Burned

I know, it's been a while. I know, I post in spurts. Lots of good things were happening, and then the whole area caught fire.

I live in the Texas Panhandle. And it seems the whole place has been burning all week. The biggest fires are between thirty-minutes and an hour's drive from my town--the ones that are still burning.

The high winds Sunday knocked down a lot of power lines and started fires from Childress in the southeast corner of the Panhandle to Dalhart in the northwest corner, near Oklahoma and New Mexico. They shut down the major highway that runs through town at the east city limits all the way to the next little town 14 miles away, because of fires on either side. Fortunately, those fires ran up against plowed fields and didn't spread like the ones near I-40 a similar distance to the north. Even more fortunately, those winds were out of the south and blew the fire the other way.
Because of the south winds, I don't catch a whiff of the smoke except when there's a little shift, but you know the fires are there. They've been so bad because we haven't had more than a spit of rain since last September. Stepping on the grass turns it to dust. The heat of a car engine pulled off the road onto the grass is enough to catch it on fire.

A friend is a volunteer with the McLean fire department, where fire threatened to consume the whole town. He's worked as many hours fighting fires as they'll let him, so now he's home again, telling stories. Besides ordinary windblown sparks, the fires have been so hard to contain because the cow chips catch fire and the wind would blow them like burning frisbees. And rabbits come out of their burrows already burning and run madly around catching everything on fire. The firefighters would try to put the poor bunnies out, but they were so fast...

The state of wildlife and livestock is pitiful. Everything they had to eat is gone--even the hay the ranchers managed to gather up (since there's been no rain, hay is pretty scarce too). Many of the animals who survived are in worse state than those who died--too awful to share. They don't really know how many made it, because the fences are burned and the cows are scattered to the winds.

The acreage burned is pretty much as if the entire state of Connecticut had burned. Almost a million acres... The grass will come back, they're telling us. If we get some rain...

Anyway, I've actually been spending more time trying not to think about this--but it's hard. We're down to two fires still burning. Any thoughts and prayers you might have lying around will be welcomed.

Why I Write

This has been a good week story-wise, for the most part. I had to take a couple of things out. (I posted about it in one of my group blogs, if you're interested.) But overall, the writing has gone well.

I'm working very hard on my writing just now, because I just finished up my contract with Luna. The third book's been turned in, and it's time for that option book. (The one I'm working on.) I'd like very much to get a new contract as soon as possible. Then I'd like to get another contract with somebody for other books, so that between the two I could let my son have the extra year in college for the double major he's mentioned, if he really wants it. So that's my goal and that's why I'm working very, very hard right now on all those little, intermediate goals. Wish me luck.

Cultural Heritage

Looky! I'm blogging TWO whole days in a row!

It remains to be seen whether I can keep this up.

But it occurred to me a while back that one could determine a person's cultural heritage by what they eat on holidays. If you have haggis on Hogmanay, you're obviously Scottish. If you eat matzo and latkes on Hanukkah, you're Jewish. If you have roast beef and Yorkshire pudding on... Well, I'm sure you get the idea.

And by those terms, my ethnic background is Texan. Can't be anything else. Because I must have tamales on Christmas Eve (and yes, I have made them from scratch, but I'd rather buy them because they're a lot of trouble to make, but if I have to...), and I must have black-eyed peas on New Year's Day for luck.

The tamale-black-eyed pea combination is quintessentially Texan, harking to both our Southern and our Mexican heritage. Yes, I'm genetically as Anglo-Celtic as I can be, but my ethnic background is still Texan. I even put chile powder in my meatloaf--but I may switch to green chiles. Makes it even moister and yummier...

So there's my thought for today.

New beginnings

Hmm. I've blogged about this elsewhere, but not here. And since this is MY blog, I really ought to share what I did this past week in the writing.

I got the new book started. I pulled out the file folder with my ideas and the few pages I'd already written and got busy last Monday. I did Tarot readings for each of my characters--they work as well as character charts (better in some ways), and give me a chance to practice reading. I did a "year" reading for them and a "life lessons" reading. Then I worked on plot points.

I don't want a detailed plot when I begin or one of those "First Draft in 30 Days" first drafts. That doesn't work for me. I'm not a multiple draft writer. I generally get my final draft in three go-throughs. First draft is in longhand, second draft is when I type it into the computer, then I go through it one last time and I'm done, and there's generally not that much change between 1st draft and the 3rd. But I'm not a seat-of-the-pants writer either. Stephen King can sit down at his computer and follow the story where it goes. I can't. I'd get lost before I found the end of it.

I fall somewhere in between. I do plot points so I know where my story is going, but there's enough room that I don't feel I've already written it and don't need to do it again.

These are Syd Fields' turning points or Christopher Vogler's Hero's Journey--basically the same thing. And then I take those plot points and write a synopsis--hopefully of a reasonable length. So I wrote an 11-page synopsis. At 1 page per 10,000 words, that should give me a decent length book for Luna.

Then I pulled out the 6 pages I'd already written. Things have changed since I wrote them. I moved the setting, expanded on the magic--little things, but enough that trying to squeeze the changes between my handwritten lines was getting problematic. I can't read that small any more. So I rewrote the pages. Just 6 pages. Doesn't count as a new draft. That got me back into the New Blood universe well enough that I was able to push on, finish the 1st chapter and start the second. I am happy. The book is begun, and I ought to be able to get more done next week, and then more, and more.

Now I just have to print out The Eternal Rose again and send it to my agent before I send her the new proposal.

Things Romantic

I'm going to try to blog more often. Don't know that I'll make it by every day, but more often.

So, that said, it's going to be necessary to come up with things to blog about. Not always an easy thing. But here goes for today.

With Valentine's Day this week, lots of folks are focusing on things romantic. This morning, the Methodist Church in town, which is half a block from my house, invited the ladies to the men's prayer breakfast they have...every week, I think. And since the parsonage occupies the half block between our house and the church, making the pastor & wife our neighbors, we got invited to come. At 7 a.m.

I'm not real good at getting out of bed at six o-freekin'-clock in the morning, and I didn't actually have to--but 6:15 a.m. isn't a heck of a lot better. But since my fella said "You don't have to go, but it would be nice," I got up, threw some clothes on (blue jeans dress up real nice with my beaded, embroidered denim jacket), and let him drive me the half-block to the church.

I was close to the youngest one there, and I've passed the half-century mark. I imagine the younger folks all had kids to feed and get to school. Anyway, they fed us a yummy breakfast complete with from-scratch biscuits, and had a local singer with his guitar performing while we ate. At the end, they presented all the ladies there with a red carnation. (I put it in the vase with my Valentine roses.) Then the fella dropped me at home and I went in to wipe my eyes and take a nap.

Wipe my eyes? You noticed that, huh. Yeah, I'm one of those sentimental types. The singer did an old song about a man who offered to bring his bride a daisy a day--and at the end he was delivering the daisies to the cemetery. I teared right up. Tried to hide it, but... And then, after the songs were done, and the preacher (it was a prayer breakfast, remember?) got up to talk, he told a few more stories that were just as beautiful and sad. I wasn't actually sobbing in the fellowship hall, but the denim jacket was getting spots all over it because I couldn't catch everything. I am incredibly easy when it comes to tears, and I wonder if that's just a girl thing, or a romance reader/writer thing, or what?

Anyway, romance? Even the happy endings can make me cry. I might as well just embrace it, 'cause I'm never going to change it.

Cool beans!

I got a mention on the "Smart Bitches, Trashy Books" blog. Sarah raises an interesting question, and those of you who've read my book already know I blasted that "romance" envelope into smithereens.

In her comments, Sarah says: It makes me want to lock the Baby Daddy characters and the In the Billionaire’s Bedroom characters and the I Married a Mediterranean Oil Tycoon characters in the room with the Compass Rose characters and some Emma Holly romantica/erotica characters and have my own romance novel reality show.

Weird thing is, I kind of like reading some of those Baby Daddy and In the Billionaire's Bedroom books. I started off there, actually. My first two books were Silhouette Desires. And the very first one was a sheikh book: Hide-and-Sheikh.

Yeah, a lot of the books are silly--but some of them aren't. And that's where some people's comfort level lies. And even if they are just silly fun, sometimes that's what one is in the mood for. Now, I have to admit, I'm not real wild about some of those Mediterranean Oil Tycoon characters because they tend to be a**hole jerks and not fun at all, but they do vent a lot of hostility for me because I just want to smack them upside the head and beating the book against the table (before I go back to read the rest of it) is somehow liberating.

I didn't set out to explode any envelopes. I just threw stuff into the story that I thought would be fun to write. Now, I'm not sure the genie will go back into the bottle. The story of these particular characters will wind up with The Eternal Rose. But there may be more adventures in Adara when the little girls grow up. The next "universe" I plan to take on, the next proposal I want to write, is a very sexy Victorian steam-punk blood-magic-with-a-twist book. And I worry just how sexy and out-there these characters are going to push me...

Obese Fiction

Well, I did finish the book. And I finished it on Tuesday, the day after I posted that last blog. Now, it's Friday, and I have finished typing the thing in. And it is huge. Massive. Okay, let's face it, the book is absolutely obese.

I have a passing acquaintance with obesity, being mumbledy-something pounds overweight myself (but I have lost enough finally to be TWO pants-sizes down from my peak). However, I don't think walks to the post office, then around the park, past the abandoned saddle factory and the gray horse in his vacant lot will do a whole lot for this book.

I'm totally embarrassed by my book's condition, as well. It's not as if I didn't have plenty of room to get the story in. I believe I mentioned before that Luna fantasies can be up to 150,000 words. I took The Eternal Rose up to 178,600 frickin' words. That's 714 cotton-picking pages. This means I now have to cut out 114 pages.

So, after the obvious scenes I already know can go, and all the extraneous chitchat I always seem to put in, I'm going to really have to gut it up and hack away, I guess.

Wish me luck.

The Book That Won't End

I've been working on the 3rd book in this trilogy, trying to reach the end, and I'm having the devil of a time getting there, because the book has somehow grown in the writing of it. I have 150,000 words I can use to write the story--600 pages, assuming 250 words per page.

I write longhand first drafts, remember, and I am typing it in as I go. I just typed in page 601. And I have a bunch of pages left in my blue manila folder to be typed. This explains part of why the book won't end. I am insanely longwinded.

I have identified some scenes that can be cut and several places that can be thinned out and others that can be summarized. But that's still a lot of verbiage, and I'm not sure that all of it can go.

Part of the reason it's so long is that not only do I have to tie up all the threads in This book, but since it's the last book in a trilogy, I have threads from the earlier books I need to tie up. I made Obed im-Shakiri a very mysterious man, and now I have to explain most of that mystery. Who he is and where he came from. And the demon is the biggest and the baddest. And--well, there's just a lot of stuff to do.

I think I jinxed myself when I titled it The Eternal Rose.

Seems it wants to take an eternity to get itself written. (sigh.)

Onward and upward.

Gail (who actually may get to write The End tomorrow or the next day) (knock on wood!)

Yet Another Project

I begin to think that I am truly certifiable. Here I am, trying to finish this stinkin' book (they all start to stink, the closer it gets to deadline without 'the end' being written), and I have glommed onto a new project.

I am a bit of a hobby junkie. I have this need to try lots of stuff, and I'm terrible about starting huge projects and then never finishing them. It's one reason I take an art class, so that I have a definite time and place to go and paint. I love to paint, but if I had to squeeze the time and space to paint at home, I never would. I'd find other piddly things to do. It's why, though I complain about them, I actually love deadlines. I have something driving me to FINISH.

Anyway, amongst my many hobbies is quilting. It's a creative thing that's almost brainless while you're actually doing it because of all the repetitive motions, so that your subconscious can work on something different while the conscious mind is concentrating on matching seams or keeping the stitching line straight. Of course, I have lots and lots of quilts that aren't anywhere near finished--including last year's "Block of the Month" County Extension project--but that doesn't stop me from getting all excited about new ideas or buying new fabric. (I am definitely a fabric addict.) Which finally brings me to my point, and it actually does have a bit of something to do with books and writing and such.

I'm going to attempt to create a quilted variation of the compass rose symbol that's used in all three of my One Rose trilogy books. I can't actually find anything that looks exactly like the symbol I made up and the Luna art department developed, which is why the variation, but I'm kind of excited about it. I found a Mariner's Compass pattern I'm going to adapt. I've bought fabric in the compass colors--blue for the north, green for the east, yellow for south and black for west, plus a red to go in the center around the rose I'm cutting out of a rose-print fabric. (Part of the adaptation). In the symbol, the cardinal directions are indicated by a blue lightning bolt, green twining vine, yellow flame and black briar and I'm thinking that, beyond the Mariner's compass block, I may try to adapt those designs from the book, if I'm feeling ambitious. We'll see how far I get first.

I suppose I could post my progress here on the blog. And even do pictures, if I can figure out how to use that feature. ;) That would give me pressure--er, well--motivation to actually get this new project done. I can't write in the afternoons very well. I tend to fall asleep over the work. But I can do other things. Or maybe I won't begin until my deadline is no longer looming over me. I probably should...

So, okay, I'll get busy on the book. Then I'll do the quilt...

Happy New Year!

It's been a happy time around here with the waning of the old year and the beginning of the new one. We got a little extra visit with the grandboys before Christmas and had lots of fun playing with them and watching them open presents. This was the little one's second Christmas, and at 20 months, he's finally gotten the idea of ripping paper off packages. Big brother was not happy that Daddy wouldn't let him open all his packages with many small pieces, but he had to go back home Christmas afternoon.

The next day, we headed off to Colorado Springs to visit with the other grandboy who lives in Chicago, but was visiting his other grandparents in Colorado. It was so much fun to see him, even though he was a bit clingy with mom & dad, because he wasn't at home in his own place. I of course caught some kind of cough/crud from one of the three little guys, but finally have some good drugs and am beginning to get better. So, the brain has essentially been turned off for a couple of weeks and now I have to get it turned on again. Still haven't finished the book.

I did come home to the very lovely news that The Compass Rose is a nominee for the RT BookClub Reviewer's Choice Award for Best Fantasy Novel of 2005. Given that it is up against some seriously big names in fantasy, (like Lois McMaster Bujold for The Hallowed Hunt) I am absolutely thrilled to be nominated.

I'm not even sure when the winners are announced. When is the RT convention?

A shout out to my fellow LUNA author, C.E. Murphy for the nomination of her book, Urban Shaman, for Best Modern-Day Fantasy Novel of 2005. Congratulations, Catie! LUNA is beginning to make its mark.