Downsizing

We had to resort to renting a dumpster to clean out the house where I grew up. Yes, there's the loveseat on the left and right on the top is the port-a-potty Mom and Dad used while camping. There's a small bookcase (we never had enough of those), some plywood panels of various sizes, a worn comforter, a rug, and a frame.

Before my mother died, we had an auctioneer take some of the stuff. After Mom died, we had the Salvation Army take some of the furniture. We made countless trips to donate stuff to Goodwill. Up until Dad broke his hip, he constantly filled up the trash cans with extraneous items he knew he would not need in his small apartment. But he moved into that house fifty-six years ago and in the interim, filled it up with lots of happy memories--and plenty of things. Mom was a prolific artist, so we all have the paintings she left behind. However, there was were also Dad's many tools. (Dad wanted to take his circular power saw to the apartment. I nixed that idea.) He a collection of old portable radios, assorted wires, and a host of ancient audio tapes. Too much stuff!

Fortunately, we had help in cleaning out the house. It is just too difficult to toss memories into a dumpster. I did retrieve one thing from the dumpster--but only one. And though the job is done, it is still sad to look at this photo.

I loved growing up at the edge of Treasure Lake by Raritan Bay.

Liberty States Fiction Writers Conference

I had a great time at the Liberty States Fiction Writers Conference today. This was only the second conference run by LSFW, but it was awesome! The workshops were great and there were top-notch editors and agents, too.

I particularly enjoyed the cocktail hour. :^) I had a nice time chatting with other authors.

KISS OF BLARNEY Available for the Kindle Today!

Moving Dad

Dad is now living in a small apartment. We made the big move on Monday, but there are still things in the house that we must either donate, recycle, or throw out. It's going to take quite a while to go through everything.

However, the apartment--furnished with the bare essentials--is comfortable and with the addition of my mother's paintings, it does look homey. Dad will be getting physical therapy for a while and he'll have a home health aide, too. After two and a half months in the hospital, he still has a long way to go in regaining his strength. Nevertheless, his appetite has definitely improved. Daughter #1 made rice pudding on Sunday and Dad had three helpings of it on Monday after dinner.

Tonight we took Dad out for pizza. He only had one slice, but he downed a bottle of stout, too, and he intended to have dessert once he returned to the apartment. Dad has always had room for dessert. :^)

Handouts

There's another writers' conference coming up--the Liberty States Fiction Writers will be gathering to listen to MaryJanice Davidson and a host of other well-known fiction writers who are more than willing to give away their secrets of success.

I plan to be there and I intend to bring along my books in case anyone wants to buy some. I will also bring along my promotional handouts. Lots of writers buy pens to hand out, some buy little sticky notes, or bookmarks.

My handouts are rather simple. I used trifold brochure paper and set Word for three columns. One one side, I put the cover, the blurb, and some other information. Inside I squeeze in an excerpt from the book.




That's the easy part. The trick is to get the other writers at the conference to pick these things up. At the last conference, I attached a Twizzler to each brochure. Every single brochure disappeared from the table.

But my latest book has an Irish theme. What sort of candy should I attach for this one? Peppermint Patties?

Authors' Houses

I like to visit old houses. It's a real treat for me to tour the homes of famous authors. Several years ago, I visited Harriet Beecher Stowe's house in Hartford, Connecticut. It was modest and comfortable. Mark Twain's grand home is next door and it is where he was most productive. Yet, I've seen pictures of the birthplace of Samuel Clemens and that was a two-room cabin.

Here's Louisa May Alcott's family home. I'd love to go there. It is not at all what I envisioned when I first read Little Women.

Here's Edith Wharton's home. She designed it. This is not the type of home I thought the writer of Ethan Frome would have.

Here's Stephen Crane's house. I went there one evening to see an Poe impersonator. It was a Halloween event. Go figure.

Here's Edgar Allen Poe's house in Baltimore. Hubby and I visited it a few years ago. It's really small.

I've visited the House of the Seven Gables in Salem, Massachusetts. I have not visited any southern writers' homes, but I might.

Any ideas for me?

Soon To Be Released!

Available in March from Crescent Moon Press.

When Ula's druidess is kidnapped by the evil Balor, the Irish princess must leave her secret cottage to seek help. And who better to help her locate the druidess than the Irish Wolfhound who just happens to be owned by the handsome man who saves her virtue at a pub?

Shay Devlin wants nothing to do with the beautiful Ula--especially not once he realizes she's out to steal his unruly dog, Bran--but there's no way he and his geise will allow him to turn her out into the snow, alone and unprotected. Too bad everything about the mysterious dog snatcher tempts him to break every rule of his sacred code.

Though their love is forbidden--for prophecy says Ula will marry a man with black eyes and Shay's are blue--they battle the druid who wants not only Ula, but the kingdom she is destined to rule.

Celebrate St. Patrick's Day by downloading Kiss of Blarney.

Novels of Commitment

Despite the perrennial popularity of romance novels (check out the statistics at the Romance Writers of America) there are still many people who denigrate the genre by labeling the books as "trashy," or even worse "formulaic."

While it is true that in some romances there are very explicit sexual scenes--there are also romance novels that contain nothing more than a kiss.

The only formula in a romance novel is the happy ending.

What makes a book a romance is not the level of sensuality, it is the level of commitment.

True love is all about commitment and romance novels are all about true love--the real thing. Sex is usually part of that commitment, but it should not be the only thing in the relationship. Genuine love should involve obedience to the marriage vows--for better or worse, in sickness and in health. That is commitment. That is what everyone longs for in their heart. We all want to be loved by someone--even on our bad days--even when we are no longer beautiful--even when we are old and infirm.

That is why the genre is so popular because in each story, the protagonists realize their love for each other is the forever kind.

I write novels of commitment. Don't label them as trashy, or formulaic. My books are about true love.

Read one. It'll give you a warm feeling in your heart.

Wine and Wi-Fi

My father is still in rehab, but today we learned how to get him in and out of the car. This is a useful skill since he needs to go to two specialists next week. (Of course, it would make life a lot easier for patients if the doctors came to them.)

Time passes slowly in rehab.

Daughter #3 gave her grandfather a white board and each day I list the date on it along with the number of days that have passed since Dad broke his hip. Today Dad added another note. He listed the tentative date of his release as D-Day.

There are programs in rehab to entertain and amuse the patients, but there is only one computer in the lounge. I wheel Dad to the lounge so he can use the computer to check his email and his Facebook page. It would be really nice if everyone had wi-fi in their rooms, but they don't.

Dad thinks there should be wine in rehab, too. I agree--as long as it doesn't interfere with medication. Dad does enjoy the food he is served. However, he complained about the lack of pie. He said there's plenty of ice cream, but no pie. So I brought him a cherry pie one day. He was thrilled.

Subsequently, the rehab kitchen served apple pie a few days later. Dad was delighted. It doesn't take too much to make him happy. :^)

Of course, I bring him the New York Times everyday. That's another perk he loves. I can tell he's feeling better because he has resumed clipping out articles he believes I should read. (Today I also brought him a small pair of scissors.)

But Dad can't wait to get out of rehab. He wants to wear a special outfit on that day so he can put up a new photo on his Facebook page.

Under Siege

2010 was a difficult year for my family. Each of my daughters spent time in the hospital for various, serious ailments. Thankfully, they all took turns. Still, things became complicated when my in-laws went into an assisted living facility and my mother-in-law did not want to sell her house. Then my father-in-law, who had broken his hip the previous year, fractured his pelvis at the beginning of December. Finally, right before Christmas, my father fell and broke his hip.

There have been times during all this chaos when writing became impossible—and it’s not that I didn’t have ideas but there were days when I didn’t have the heart or the time, and many more days when I didn’t have the energy. (I still have a "real" job.) I often felt as if I was under siege—being bombarded by doctors’ acronyms.

So what did I do while the enemy was scaling the walls of the castle? I tried a few ways to keep my mind on writing--even if I wasn't writing. Here are some of my ideas. If you have any to add, please add a comment. I would love to know what works for other writers, too.

1. Remember this won’t last forever or as my father always says, “This, too, shall pass.” In the meantime, I asked for help when I could. I am not Superwoman.

2. I kept a pen and paper handy. I wrote blog ideas. I took notes about what the doctor said. I scribbled down a few in-depth character studies. (There are lots of characters in a hospital.) These might be useful later on.

3. I read The Sea Wolf, by Jack London. That's a far cry from the usual romances I enjoy. However, when Dad wasn’t ready to read or even listen to me read to him, my paraphrased version of the plot held his attention.

4. I re-read my last draft from the beginning and I edited it. It's only 29 pages, but that doesn't matter.

5. I made plans to go to a writers’ conference when the siege is over.

Bestselling Product

According to Amazon, the Kindle is its worldwide bestselling product of all time. You can read about it here. But I know for a fact that it has to be true because my sister got a Kindle for Christmas.

When it comes to books, I've been digesting far more than either of my sisters for a long, long time. Not that they don't read, but I am far more obsessed with words--and in particular with fiction, probably because I believe there is a lot of truth in fiction despite all the disclaimers at the beginning of every book. :^)

I also rarely watch TV. However, both of my sisters have large, flat screen televisions with cable hookups.

I own a Nook, an eBookwise and I read books on my cellphone. But I own plenty of paper books as well and I have a very hard time parting with any of them.

My sister with the Kindle has always been up on the latest fad. She was the first one in our family to buy a microwave oven back when microwave ovens were massive machines. My sister always informs me about the fashion color of the year, the pet of the year, the accessory of the year, or the hairstyle of the year. If my sister owns a Kindle that officially makes it the gadget of the year.

Those of you who don't own a Kindle (or some other ebook reader) are behind the times.

The Blizzard of December 2010

Yes, that is our backyard in the aftermath of the Blizzard of December 2010. Our picnic table is buried in a rather deep drift.

When we walked out of church last Sunday, it was snowing. Everybody in town went immediately to the grocery store, which they do every time the flakes fly. However, this time it turned out to be a good idea. The subsequent blizzard left us stuck at home until Tuesday morning when the plow finally came through. Of course, we spent most of Monday clearing the snow off our cars and digging out the driveway.

Later in the evening we played several rounds of Bananagrams--a great game for word lovers!

Many of the roads are still dangerous. It was a bad storm, but I do believe it should have been treated more aggressively. Nevertheless, it is supposed to be warmer today. Hopefully, a lot of this white stuff will melt.

Happy New Year!

My Latest Ebook Reader

I've been reading ebooks on my trusty old eBookwise ereader and on my Nook. However, I recently purchased a new cellphone because my old cellphone had developed a strange quirk. I could only hear calls on it if I used the speakerphone, which meant everyone else could hear my calls, too.

To replace my old cellphone, I bought Virgin Mobile's Loft. For $25 a month I have unlimited texting and unlimited internet access. I have only 300 hours of talk time, but who needs to talk?

The one thing about this phone that left me a bit unsatisfied was that I could not download an ebook app for it. But with the web at my fingertips, I searched around until I found what I wanted.

At Bookworm I can upload an epub formatted book to the site and then read it on my cellphone. This is awesome!

Being economically minded, for my first book on Bookworm I downloaded a classic because it was free. I read Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton. I had never read it and while it isn't a happy book, Edith Wharton's prose is stunning. I just downloaded The Sea Wolf by Jack London today. I intend to catch up on many of the classics I haven't read.

So if you have a cellphone without an ebook app, try Bookworm and then start reading a few classics. :^)

Workshop!

I will be giving a workshop on December 14, 2010, at 9:30 a.m. at The Fine Grind, 101 Newark Pompton Turnpike (Route 23), Little Falls, NJ 07424 (Phone: 973-837-0199)

The workshop will be a live, in-person version of Creating Atmosphere: The Tone of Your Novel. I presented the talk at the Muse Online Conference in October. So if you didn't make it to the Muse Online Conference, come to Little Falls, have a cup of coffee and listen to my writing wisdom.

I believe every novel should have an overall feel--a tone--that clues the reader into the type of story he or she has chosen. The tone can be funny, or gloomy, or suspenseful. I will use examples from my paranormal romances to show how setting, dialogue, and other story elements create the desired atmosphere for a novel.

You won't want to miss this! Besides, there will be a drawing and someone will win a book. Maybe that someone could be you!

Some Sort of Miracle

I woke up yesterday to find a single daisy flowering in our yard. I decided it had to be a sign of from my mother. Daisies were her favorite flower and are not usually seen blooming at the end of November in New Jersey.

I cooked Thanksgiving dinner--again. The first time I cooked Thanksgiving dinner, I was 19 and my mother was in the hospital with soaring high blood pressure. Up until that point, I had always been my mother’s apprentice. Mom was an exacting cook. Everything had to be done her way. The celery was chopped just so. Mom made stuffing from scratch. The pie crust had to be handled gently so it would be flaky and light. My siblings and I were relegated to certain specific tasks for the annual Thanksgiving feast, but that year, I did it all. Maybe it wasn’t the greatest meal but I enjoyed the sense of accomplishment I found in my own ability to rise to the occasion.

As Mom aged, I took over the role of hosting Thanksgiving every year for the burgeoning clan. Mom always brought yams and pumpkin pies to the feast. With her gone, I made the pumpkin pies and one of my sisters made the yams. My other sister made apples pies and cranberry relish. My daughters are my assistants—though I am by no means as exacting as my mother was. Some things are not worth all the fuss because the fact is that Thanksgiving isn’t about the food. It’s about reconnecting and catching up--long conversations with the people I love. It’s about laughter and the treasured memories that we share—and passing those memories along to the next generation.

Mom isn’t with us anymore—except in spirit, and hers was an indomitable one. As I was whipping the potatoes a wave of sadness washed over me because Mom wasn’t there, but then I thought of the daisy outside. It is difficult to be down when you’ve got your own little miracle occurring right outside the back door.

I gave the daisy to my father at the end of the evening. I’m sure the daisy was meant as much for him as it was for me.

Not Like the Real World

As a fiction writer, I deal in complete lies all wrapped up in one nice, neat package called a book. I make up stories about imaginary people trying to solve imaginary problems in imaginary settings. The trick is that in all my stories, the lies have to "ring true." I can do this because most people who pick up a book voluntarily suspend their disbelief while reading the story. Readers are quite willing to give an author the benefit of the doubt--most of the time, but writers are always warned against using contrived plots, boring dialogue, and flat characters.

Still, there are plenty of very odd coincidences that happen in real life. Remember that kid in school who seemed to be headed for a detention center, but who is now a lawyer with a Mercedes and a trophy wife? If it happens in a book, the author has a lot of explaining to do--and it all has to sound "real."

Though dialogue in a story must seem real, the everyday dialogue we use is hardly as succinct or witty as that in a novel.

The characters in a novel must appear to be flesh and blood. They cannot be flat or cardboard characters--one dimensional. But how many genuinely boring people do you know? The world is populated with millions of them!

In short, a novel is nothing like the ordinary world we live in. It is far, far better. It makes a lot more sense even though it is one big lie.

The real world is often much stranger than fiction.

A Memorable Event in Brooklyn

Hubby and I went to Brooklyn yesterday for hubby's high school reunion. He graduated from St. Augustine's high school, but around 1970 St. Augustine's closed. Afterwards, students went to Bishop Loughlin high school. However, there is a wing of that school with memorabilia from St. Augustine's--statues, stained glass, athletic awards and even a glass case with clothing and the old-fashioned book covers.

Bishop Loughlin high school hosted the reunion and did a great job. Despite a flea market in progress on the school grounds, we were given a parking spot! (Big miracle in that section of Brooklyn.)

Hubby brought an old photo of the high school class trip to Washington, D.C. which he passed around.

There was a Mass--of course. Afterwards, awards were given out to several St. Augustine students who have made remarkable achievements. The reunion itself helps to fund a scholarship program and one young man from Bishop Loughlin high school is going to Annapolis next year.



I enjoyed meeting hubby's former classmates and their spouses. The Christian Brothers taught them well.

Writing Sisters

I have been a member of the New Jersey chapter of the Romance Writers of America since 1988 and I have been to every one of their conferences. There are plenty of workshops offered along with editor and agent appointments, but the best part of the conference is the camaraderie with other authors as well as future authors. They are my writing sisters--they understand what it takes to write a book.

What we all need are more people who will read our books. There's a lot of good stuff between the covers. :^)

Reading will improve your vocabulary, make you smarter AND more interesting.

When was the last time YOU picked up a book and read it? Turn off the television and the internet, sit down, open a book, and savor the words.

You don't have to read the whole thing tonight. Just a chapter. It won't take long. Tomorrow night you can read another chapter.

See what we writers do. We work with words. Using them we can make pictures in your head. It's magic. (Well--sort of.)

So please buy a book today, or borrow one from the library. Your brain will be glad you did.

My Heroines Are Not Me

I have an imagination and I am capable of making up stories. The books I write are fiction--that means they are not true. There are disclaimers at the beginning of each book that attest to the fact that any resemblance of the characters in my books to actual people is coincidence.

My heroines do not lead boring lives. They are caught up in life-threatening dramas. They are young, beautiful, and can eat lots of salty food because they do not have high-blood pressure--yet.

My heroines are not me.

Yes, I write the stories. My attitudes and opinions are there on the pages if anyone is seriously looking for them.

The truth is that I was a wallflower when I was young. Eventually, I left some of my shy nature behind when I grew up, but I was not and have never been a professional chef, scientist, policewoman, park ranger, journalist, farmer, or secretary.

I simply have a vivid imagination. Maybe it's because I've read too many books. Maybe it's because my parents were creative. Maybe it's because I grew up in an era where we didn't have any electronic games and we had to amuse ourselves. Maybe it's because I don't watch television.

Anyhow, it's great fun. It would be wonderful to be young and blond with curly hair, but I can do without the life-threatening drama. I give my heroines such a tough time!

An Old Idea of Recycling Recycled

Back in the old days, when I was young, nothing went to waste. Thread used to come wrapped on wooden spools, but when the thread was used up we would put nails in the wooden spool, wrap yarn around the nails and use an old crochet hook to lift the loops over the nails so we could make horse reins. Never mind that no kid in Cliffwood Beach owned a horse. The activity kept us amused for hours. From that exercise, I developed a fondness for crocheting, but never for knitting. You can find more information on knitting spools here.

Years later, when my own children were young, I found a wooden spool, tapped some nails into it and showed my daughters how to make long knitted reins. Daughter #1 actually saved the knitting spool I made for her which is the one you see above.

Recently, I was cruising around Jo-Ann Fabric with hubby who was looking for a particular glitter paint to match his latest green accordion. On a rack I saw what appeared to be a giant knitting spool made of plastic. According to the instructions on the package, this giant knitting spool could be used to make a hat.

Awesome.

Since it was almost Daughter #1's birthday, I bought the gadget. Daughter #1 opened it on her birthday and began making a hat immediately. Within days, it was finished. Perhaps Daughter #1 can make everyone a hat for Christmas. :^)



It never ceases to amaze me how some old ideas can be transformed into something new and improved. Of course, I want to make a hat, too.