REVIEW: Susan Crandall’s “Sleep No More”

REVIEW: Susan Crandall’s “Sleep No More”

What to do about online piracy???

Oh my gosh, had to share this one. Toni Blake tweeted it, JoAnn Ross blogged it, now I'm repeating it. At least we can laugh as our livelihood evaporates!


Oh yeah, piracy only hurts the big corporations ... and ever single one of us who slaves over the content. Think twice about "free".

'Nuf said.

Cake Finale! You Won't Believe It

I've finally found something that would pay me less per hour than writing -- something I'd thought an impossible feat. This cake occupied me for four solid days.

Let me give you a blow by blow of my adventure in creating the tier cake for my fondant class. First of all, long before I even baked the cake itself, I spent at least 9 hours creating the roses that would decorate it. And I don't think this process would increase in speed with more practice. First of all, the fondant had to be colored and each rose bud center had to be created and allowed to dry.

And this is just the first batch. Then the three additional layers of petals were added. The fondant was rolled out, cut with cookie cutters, then each petal had to be separated from the other with a knife, the edges then tooled to be thing and ruffled -- and then it was time to add it to the bud. Repeat this about a hundred and fifty times and you have enough roses to decorate this cake. Of course, they spent a day all over my kitchen drying before they could be moved.



Now it's time for the cake itself. Two ten inch layers and two six inch layers. Surprisingly the ten inch were a breeze, but those darn six inch didn't want to come out of the pan and were horrible to cover with fondant. Don't think I'll be making that size again.

Anyway, cakes baked. Then they had to be covered with a "crumb coat" of buttercream frosting. Believe me, I was tempted to stop there, you know, quit while I was ahead because it was looking pretty good.


Then came the fondant. Oh my gosh, this was an adventure. Kneading. Rolling. Draping it over the cakes. Working out the wrinkles and fitting it, then trimming. People who do this for a living have all of my admiration! But once the sweat was wiped from my brow (literally), I was surprised I hadn't messed it up totally. Then the tiers were stacked -- piece of cake. ;-) I added buttercream borders and then applied the flowers.



VOILA!
















Now here is my daughter's beautiful cake. She might actually have a future as a baker!


















Cake class is over. I kinda miss those Tuesday night's. My neighbors miss the Wednesday cake consumption. Although I'll never be a professional cake creator, I am putting my newfound knowledge to good use. The heroine in my next book is a baker ... but that's not the part of her life that creates trouble. Trouble comes from a most unforseen source... but that's a topic for another day.

I'll Give It A Go

I like to think of myself as open-minded and I'll try almost anything once. However, this scenario never once crossed my mind before it presented itself.

I was visiting a wonderful book club a couple of weeks ago and met a woman who is an "animal communicator." Now I've heard of these people, who, like Dr. Dolittle really can talk to the animals. My cousin -- she who cannot say no to a stray of any kind -- has been surprised by the accuracy of an animal communicator she knows. Anyway, this lovely woman at the book club offered to have a little chat with my dog, Bear, and let my readers know what it's like to be the sidekick of an author.

As I said, I'm open minded, so "Sure, I said, let's give it a go."

So here's what my Bear had to say to me through Shannon Gross (www.shannongross.com), the animal communicator:
--he'd been on his own for a while before he went to the animal shelter
--he knew that I wasn't "looking" for him when I came there, but when I saw him I knew (true) and he was glad because the cats' noises were stressing him out
--Bear says my husband needs to take his mind away from numbers sometimes (true) and that he likes the designing phase of things (ultra true)
--he says that I need to let myself enjoy putting my hands in the earth (gardening) and accept the thoughts that come while I'm working there; don't force my creativity before it's ready
--apparently Bear "sees' my characters while I'm working and says I build the women though a different process than I do the men (true)
--Bear takes his job of helping me find the calm place where the stories come from very seriously

Well, working with me or not, Bear does bring calm to my life, that much I can say is a fact.



For the next two weeks, Bear is open for questions via Shannon. Please post any questions you have for Bear on Facebook and my animal communicator friend will see if he'll share his answers with us. Like I said, I'll try anything once if it can be done without harm or peril!

Thinking Time

This past weekend I spent almost every waking hour working in my yard. We've been having an unseasonably warm stretch for April here in Indiana, something I'm certain we'll pay for in May -- probably with snow. Watch it, those of you who were lulled into purchasing flowers!

Anyway, I pruned, fertilized, and edged about a million feet of mulch beds (okay, maybe it was only half a million, but seriously, it takes 16 yards of mulch to cover them). Now it's time to guilt the grown children into helping me move and spread the dump truck load of mulch that will be arriving in my driveway today.

While I was working, I looked up and there were six hawks circling overhead.
They made me think of my dad. He's been gone for nearly 21 years, but some days it seems like only yesterday he was buzzing my house in his plane and scaring my neighbors half to death. I've always thought that if there was anything to receiving your rewards in Heaven, he'd be up there flying like a hawk. He loved the wind in his face, loved flying open cockpit planes and his Piper Cub with the door open -- really low. I truly think he would have been happy as a bird.

He was not only a private pilot (recreational), but he spent endless hours building his own aircraft in our tiny garage. It began by building and flying model planes, but eventually grew into the real thing. Like everything he did, it became a near obsession. I remember hearing him out there at all hours of the night working away (my sleeplessness must be genetic). Here are my children "helping" him.

Unfortunately, he didn't get to finish this plane.

Now back to that obsession thing. He was also infatuated with books and reading -- funny thing for a guy who hated school and joined the Navy long before high school graduation. Unfortunately for me, he died before I even began writing. I often wish he was around to discuss the emotional and psychological aspects of my characters; he was the kind of guy who could see deep inside people.

Being outdoors always helps me think, I figure out lots of plot and character stuff while cutting the grass. But this weekend, working in the yard and seeing those hawks, made me feel close to my dad. And I like to think maybe he helped me just a bit with the story questions I was wrestling while I was out there working.

Thanks, Dad.

Ta-Da! or, My Cake Project

As those of you who have been following my blog, I'm venturing into new and unknown territory this year, all in the name of not being the hermit everyone accuses me of being. Yoga. Cake decorating. And I have to say, I'm so very glad I have.

And, as promised, I'm posting photos of my "grand finale" cake. Now to truly appreciate this miracle, you must check my past blog featuring the "birthday blob."

First, this cake uses Royal frosting for flowers -- that's the stuff that they make the stick on letters and candle holders that you find in the baking aisle in every grocery store. When set, it's very hard. So the Sunday before our final class, my daughter (heretofore referred to as Skinny Me, you'll see why when you see her photo) and I embarked upon flower making.








Dear lord in heaven, I never thought I'd get all of the mess cleaned up.



While we were creating our beautiful spring gardens, our cakes were in the oven. Let me say, I have never in all of my years of cooking (and I do like to cook, even though my cake expertise says otherwise), had a cake fall in the oven. Sunday was my first. One layer came out looking like a sagging mattress used by a hippo. I was ready to scrap the thing (ie. eat it) and bake a new one. But Skinny Me had faith that it could be salvaged. She got out her cake leveler (a wonderful tool that, had I know about it, just might have saved me years of embarrassment). My cake turned out kinda short, but who would have known it was initially a disaster. Ready?

Ta-da!






Can you believe it??










Now here's Skinny Me's


Of course, no one will eat either of them because they don't want to "ruin" them. We may still have these things sitting around when I'm 90.

Might be just as well, I'm not sure what mine will taste like, might be kinda rubbery since it collapsed!


We've committed to Class 3. Stay tuned for tier cakes and fondant!

Life in the Fast Lane?

Really? Fast lane? That's hardly how I see my life. But lately I seem to be meeting myself coming and going. So here's an update from my previous blogs:

I had a great brainstorming week with my writer buddy Karen White (The Lost Hours and The Girl on Legare Street -- FYI pronounced Legree Street) a few weeks ago. We worked out a few kinks (and added a few intended ones) to my current work in progress. We also brainstormed two books for her. I can't wait to read them!

I'm still dithering on a title for my newest project, but I'm leaning toward The Last Good Man.

Yoga class (ultra-beginners) is going well for both me and my mom. We still spend a lot of time laughing at ourselves. Let's just say ridiculously bad balance must be inherited. But always walk out of there feeling so much better and with more energy. You'd think that increased energy would make me more productive. Ha!

Cake class. Hummm, what can I say about cake class? I love the woman teaching it, she has such a wry sense of humor. I get to spend an evening with my daughter, always a plus. Just wish we'd been able to get my daughter-in-law to join us! This session we're only making one cake, instead of one a week. Good thing 'cause my jeans are getting way too tight. We're making flowers out of Royal Frosting (it's the kind that turns nearly rock hard when dried). The last week of class we're supposed to assemble all of our flowers on a "Grand Finale" cake. I'm sure y'all can't wait for that photo. I promise I'll post it, no matter how pathetic it is. I'll also post my daughter's so you'll be able to see what it's supposed to look like.

My book signing that benefited Best Buddies was such a success, I'm doing another benefit signing -- even did a little TV interview about it! Tomorrow I'm having a signing at a great little boutique shop in Noblesville called The Linden Tree. The shop owner and I are donating a percentage of my book sales as well as store merchandise sales to the Noblesville Education Foundation. With budget cutbacks, the teachers can use all of the help we can give them!

Today, the sun is shining -- such a wonderful sight after the long dismal winter we've experienced. I'm headed out to prune my knock-out roses and pick up what will probably be a truckload of sticks and limbs that the winter battered off our trees. I'd better get to it, winter is due back in town by Monday. Sigh.

The good news is I have managed to keep my feet in matching footwear.

Until next time,
Susan

Cake!

Okay, guys, here it is, as promised. In order to appreciate this miracle, you must have read my previous post, From the Writers Cave.

In cake class this week we learned to do a shell border, the flowers on this cake, how to make clown bodies in which you stick a plastic clown head. (I don't know if I've already shared my strange dislike of clowns in all forms, but let's just say there was no way I was putting a clown on my cake. I did it on a piece of waxed paper and promptly tossed it as soon as it was finished and approved by my instructor.) We also learned how to make a decorating bag from parchment paper. Very cool skill, I might add -- saves tons of clean up. Oh yeah, we also began our instruction on making roses. Now that was fun.

Any way, here's my finished product, level and all in one piece. Drum roll, please.

It's not great, and certainly not as good as my daughter's, but it's a huge improvement for me! My chocolate frosting was really too soft to do a proper shell border on the base. Live and learn.

Don't want you to get the wrong idea, I'm actually a good cook, it's just the pretty factor in which I struggle. (sigh)

I'm missing next week's class. So it'll be a while before I can (hopefully) share further progress.

Thank you for visiting Susan's cake creations and have a great day.

From the Writers Cave

I'm becoming one of those writers. You know, the reclusive, glued to the keyboard, forgets to brush hair, can't hold a conversation with real people kind of author. I'm becoming disengaged. I mean, just look at what I had on my feet for two hours before I noticed.

Seriously. I was even up and walking around.

Guess that's what I get for having two pair of slippers under my desk.

I would blame it on the snowy weather, but I think it's more than that. I like being snowed in. I like it when my phone doesn't work.

So I'm countering my anti-social gravitation by taking some classes with my mom and my daughter, separately -- that way I have to go out twice, not just once.

My mom and I are taking a very, very, very beginners Yoga class ... you know, so we can prevent what my brother fondly calls "pre-rigor mortis." He's not very flexible, but then again, he never was, so I can't tell if he's losing ground or not. I used to be very bendy. Not so much now that I'm (ahem) older and spending most of my time in front of this computer screen. So the class. Mom and I spend more time wiping tears away from laughter than yoga-ing, but I have faith we'll get the hang of it.

Now my daughter and I are taking a cake decorating class. She's pretty good at it. I, on the other hand, have to say the only thing good about my cakes is that we get to eat them. Last week was our first week to tote in a cake to class. I made the mistake of baking devil's food and frosting it with white frosting. Let's just say I didn't shame myself by taking a photo, but believe me, that white frosting looked like cookies and cream.

Still, it was more level than any cake I've ever baked, so there's a mark for me.

My all time worst cake was one I made it for my daughter-in-law's birthday. I knew I should have stuck with a sheet cake, but no, I had to make a layer cake. It was uneven and broke into three sections after it was frosted. She was very nice and blew out the candles as if it was a normal cake. We dubbed it "the birthday blob." As you can see, we couldn't even chance piercing it with more candles.

I'll post a photo of my class cake tommrrow ... if it looks better than the birthday blob.

Best Buddies Indiana Fundraiser and Book Signing

Saturday was a very special day, one I'll remember for years to come. Many new friends from Best Buddies Indiana joined me to help launch my latest romantic suspense, SLEEP NO MORE.

Best Buddies is a non-profit organization dedicated to creating opportunities for one-to-one friendships, integrated employment and leadership development for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. And what a wonderful organization it is!

I was reminded of the value of friendship, a thing many of us take for granted, and how a life without it can be so very desolate. This organization is particularly helpful to high school and college age people with intellectual disabilities, a time in everyone's life that is made richer by friendships. With this kind of social and emotional support, many people with disabilities develop the necessary social skills to better able to integrate into the flow of life and the workforce.

We had a great party at Noblesville, IN Barnes & Noble, gave away some goodies, raised some money for Best Buddies and more importantly raised people's awareness of this great organization. You see, up until recently, I didn't even know about Best Buddies Indiana. But in writing SLEEP NO MORE I created one of my all-time favorite characters, Maggie, a young woman with Mosaic Down Syndrome. During my research, I learned much, gained a better insight, and discovered Best Buddies.

I have a couple of "small world" stories, three actually. First there was the book club I visited in early January (on a horrible, frigid day, but these ladies were hearty souls who ventured out anyway). I mentioned my upcoming signing and the tie-in with Best Buddies. Lo, and behold, one of the women there was on the parents' advisory board and has a son who participates in Best Buddies. Now M.J. and her son Jeff are among my newfound friends. I'm going to get a photo up on my website of Jeff at the signing.

Small world story number 2. The woman on the right of this photo is Kim, she works for Best Buddies Indiana and was there the whole day. As Kim and I were chatting, we were discussing Noblesville, as I grew up here and live here, and discovered that her father was my band director when I was in junior high!

Small world story number 3. Katie, on the right in this photo, also works for Best Buddies. One of my friends from waaaay back, a friend of my older brother in fact, was at the signing, saw her and said, "Hey, she took care of me while I was in the hospital a while back." He and Katie had a conversation, and yes indeed, Katie was a nurses aid and took care of him. (And we have lots of hospitals in this area!)

How about that for one short afternoon?

Katie also shared a story with me that I will never, never forget. She said that while she was in high school, she did not have a person who she could call "friend." For four years, she ate lunch alone and walked the halls alone. Katie is now working to make sure others with disabilities such as hers don't have to go through their days alone. It seems such a small thing, having a friend. But you don't realize, until you walk those halls alone day after day, what a huge difference it can make in your life.

Best Buddies and the people I've met through them have enriched my own life. And I'm thinking Maggie won't be my last character with an intellectual disability.

If you'd like to know more about Best Buddies, visit www.bestbuddies.org

New Year, Old Me

I have to admit, I'm very content and don't want to screw that up with resolutions that I know myself well enough to know I'll never keep. That's not to say I don't think I need improvement. Au contraire.

I am setting goals for myself this year -- and none of them involve exercise and weight loss (not that I don't need both, it's just I'd rather fool myself into thinking I'm doing both just because I want to, not because I promised I would). Ah, mind games. I play them with my characters every day, guess it's spilling over into my real life.

My goals are simple. And achievable.

Everything hinges on this one rule: If you have thirty minutes, you can accomplish almost anything.

Really. Think of all of those things you put off. How many of them take less than thirty minutes once you set yourself to dealing with them?

If I find myself with a block of thirty minutes I'll set myself to a task. It's amazing what a person can actually accomplish in thirty minutes -- I used to know this when my children were small, somewhere along the way I lost it.

Writing is like closet space, the more you have the less efficient you are with it. For some reason I've fallen into this "I need two hours to be effective" routine. So not true, and I've found it to be counter productive. Thirty minute segments will keep my head in the game.

I need to volunteer more. My thirty minute rule will allow me to gather up those wasted minutes and put them to good use.

I want to spend more time with my mom. Aren't frequent short visits better than one long one?

I want to spend more time reading for pleasure. Again, I don't need to carve out hours to enjoy a good book. Why not plan a thirty minute break in every day for this?

You're getting the idea. In fact this blog was done during one of those thirty minute "dead times."

I think cleaning out my sock drawer is nest on the thirty-minute-to-do list. Then I'll be able to close it and be happier each and every morning.

Computers -- Making My Life Easier????

I'm sure that overall, that's an affirmative. However I've just spent the last three hours fighting my web browser to let me into a conferencing site for a board meeting tomorrow. I mean, if I can't get myself in there (I'm the secretary), then we have to change the meeting. Then my computer would be inconveniencing five other people who have arranged their schedules to accommodate this meeting. On the suggestion of a friend (whose time I also chewed up trying to figure out my problem), I downloaded another web browser. I now think I'm good to go for tomorrow's meeting. That's assuming it'll accept the three people it wouldn't let me add today. Grrrrrrr.

Although on-line shopping is a great tool for writers who keep odd hours and like to do their shopping at 3 am, I spent two hours last night trying to purchase something that HAD to be purchased. I browsed. I chose my item. Clicked the "add to cart" button. Chose additional options, and again added to cart. Went to check out ... "your shopping cart is empty." Seriously? I logged off. Brought the site up again. Went through the entire process. Same result -- empty cart. Well, I must be a real idiot not to be able to point and click my way to a purchase.

Rebooted my computer. Tried again. Again, empty cart. And you know, time's a tickin' toward the holiday when said gift needs to be at its destination.

Now I'm smart enough to know when to yell "Uncle." Well, maybe not, because I should have after the second failed attempt. So I take a giant leap back into the early nineties and call the 800 number to make a telephone purchase. First call disconnects as I'm waiting for a "service representative." Did I mention that I'm doing this after an afternoon of real live in person store shopping (so not my favorite sport)? Well, I'm invested now. There is no way I'm giving up until I have that item in my cart and on the way to its new home.

Second try on the 800 number does the trick. By now, I'm sweating and grinding my teeth. Oh, yeah, the person on the phone is using the same website to place my order, I can hear her clicking away, telling me as she makes each selection, all the way to purchase confirmed. Crikey.

You know, I think perhaps I need to come up with a murder mystery that has to do with computer frustration. We've all been there. It's a believable story line, right?

Been a Busy Day

I'm just about ready to surrender and not even try to write until after Christmas. Although I have all of these thoughts swirling around in my head about my current work in progress, it seems I can only grab a handful of minutes at a time. But it isn't as if I'm not working...


I started off my day with an Internet radio interview conducted by the gracious Cheryl, Dallas Book Diva. This woman really knows how to conduct an interview. It's difficult for me not to sound like a babbling idoit once I start chattering about one of my books. But she was so organized and did such a great job of asking just the right questions -- which tells me something very, very important about her. She read the book, really read it, not skimming and getting facts confused. She knew my characters probably as well as I do, and had some keen insights of her own.


Cheryl loved SLEEP NO MORE, she loved the plot, the characters, the family drama and the romance. I'm very flattered, because she gets dozens and dozens of books for review and only reviews and interviews eight per month. So here's a huge thank you to Cheryl!


After my interview, I had to take a break to wet the parched whistle. Then I worked for a while on a very personal Christmas gift I'm preparing for my mother. Then it was time for lunch, followed by a trip to the post office to mail off books to contest winners -- this is worth repeating ... I went to the post office in December. The line is killer in a non-holiday month.


After I brought my trembling hands and gritted teeth out of the post office, it was time to take my daughter to the airport. She's going to visit a lifetime friend who now lives on the west coast. They were born three weeks apart, grew up two doors from one another, went all through school (including college) together. They're going to have such a great time!





Now, after I dropped her at the airport curb, getting the stink-eye from the security agent who seemed to think we were taking too long to get the luggage out of the car, I hit rush hour traffic -- on a Friday. Grrrrrr.



On the way back home, I had to stop at my daughter's house and pick up our grandpup, Ellie, and all of her gear 'cause while her mommy is having fun on the west coast, she's staying with us. We have a dog too, a big dog, but our dog is just short of being a stuffed animal, you hardly know he's around, doesn't eat much, doesn't bark much, has his own bedroom and stays there a lot of the time. Ellie ... well, Ellie is the exact opposite, a bundle of muscle that wants to play (intensely) constantly. Lucky for her she's so cute. That's why she gets to stay with us and not
at the kennel -- those brown puppy eyes and cute floppy ears. Right now she's supervising the writing of this blog. This is her in her Colts jersey. She's a fan.




Once I had Ellie all settled in, it was time for the ritual Friday night at the movies. I can get my husband to go see just about any movie if I buy him popcorn. We saw Invictus. It was good. Morgan Freeman was phenominal, as always. Post movie, it was time to run a little energy out of Ellie (she's poking me right now with her nose, trying to get me to throw her stuffed squirrel). Wonder if she'll ever go to sleep tonight? Heaven knows, I'm ready to go to bed.

Maybe I'll get a paragraph written tomorrow.

Exercise is Fun

Actually, I detest exercising. And truthfully what I do barely qualifies as exercise – it certainly doesn't qualify as "working out."

I do like the way I feel after I'm cooled down and showered. I do like being less sluggish. But what I like the most is listening to my audio books while I walk outdoors or struggle to meet my (embarrassingly small) goal on the elliptical. And because of that, I only allow myself to listen to audio books while I'm exercising. And because of that it takes me a really long time to get through an unabridged edition, which is the only way I'll listen to them. I mean, really, what is the point of listening to an abridged book? Who decides what parts I'm not interested in? But I digress….

When I've spent all of the time I can tolerate sitting at the keyboard, when the novel I'm writing turns into white noise in my head, I take off for fresh air and my audio book break. I usually come back recharged, and listening to a good book really inspires me to write.

Right now I'm listening to an exceptional audio book, Kathryn Stockett's The Help. Oh my gosh, I can't even imagine reading this book because it's so well done in audio. I have actually walked an extra mile just so I don't have to stop listening. Each character point of view has its own voice actress, and every one of them is phenomenal. The only problem is as I am now into the third audio part, I don't want it to be over. Although I haven't finished this audio book, I fear that I'm going to feel like I've been taking daily walks with friends and they have been stripped from me. So be warned, if you listen to this one, be prepared to feel a little bereft after you've reached the last word.

I'll try to post again after I've finished the book. I feel I've only given half of a review here, but I've just been so enchanted with this one, I couldn't wait to share.

Promise or Peril?

This week there has been an uproar in the writer's world following the announcement by Harlequin Enterprises to team up with Author Solutions to form a new entity, Harlequin Horizons. Manuscripts already rejected by Harlequin can now be published in print -- via this new self-publishing arm. The key words here are self-publishing. Which means the author pays; footing the entire cost of printing, editing, etc.

I'm certainly not saying that self-publishing is bad. I just feel that, although not exactly misleading aspring writers, this is taking advantage of the vulnerability and desires of those writers. All form rejections coming from Harlequin will now have a short note offering Harlequin Horizons as a self publishing option for the author. The carrot they're dangling is the line stating that if a Harlequin Horizons self-published title does well, Harlequin might just then pick the manuscript up for mainstream publication.

Now I spent many years as an aspiring author, and I can tell you it's an emotional roller coaster. There were always those out there who would make promises, allude to possibilities ... and on and on until you feel that if you don't take this chance, don't outlay the cash, you'll be missing out on your shot at a major publisher. And it might work that way for a very few. Truly, the publishing business is a lot of being at the right place at the right time. I get that. I also know that if you've been rejected by your chosen publishers, there might be a reason. A person simply cannot assume their work is ready for publication. To be a good writer, you have to dedicate yourself to the craft, to always stretching and improving your skills. Having a sub-standard novel out there (believe me all of my first works were sub-standard in one way or another, even though I didn't know it at the time -- I pressed and learned) isn't going to do a thing to get a major publisher to look at your work. I feel money is better spent on classes, workshops, instructional books ... things that will give you better tools to use in your quest for publication.

Another word of caution. That carrot, the one that says if your self-published book does well you could be picked up by a major publisher, is more than a little misleading. For a print book to sell well, it has to be where readers can find it -- this is especially true for first time authors.
Without the backing of a publisher and distribution system, how are those books going to get out there? Print books do not fly into reader's hands by themselves.
You need to ask yourself these questions: Are you willing to spend full time marketing your book? Are you going to face even more rejection by knocking on bookstore doors trying to get them to let you in? Are you going to devote every day to selling books out of your garage? It's tough out there and it really burns my biscuits to see writers' dreams being manipulated for profit.

Harlequin has been the backbone of the romance industry for years. I understand the markets are changing, the world is changing. I know this is all new and it will be interesting to see how things shake out. All I have to say is the old addage "Buyer Beware." You CAN make your dreams come true. Just move ahead with your eyes open and your brain (not your heart) engaged.

An Interview with Terri DuLong

Please welcome Terri Du Long. She's here to tell us a little about what's going on in her world and her new release, Spinning Forward

1. Tell me about your book.

A New Englander born and bred, the last place Sydney Webster expects to find herself starting over is on an island off the west coast of Florida. Yet here she is in Cedar Key, trying to pull herself together after her husband's untimely death and the even more untimely revelation of his gambling addiction. Syd takes shelter at a college pal's bed and breakfast, leading her to discover her true identity and feminine soul. Her passion for spinning and knitting draws attention due to the unique composition of her wool and a door is opened. She finds herself in the embrace of a community rich with love, laughter, friendship . . . and secrets. A tale of new beginnings, old friends and lives forever bound.

2. What is your writing process and where do you write?

When I'm on deadline, I begin around ten in the morning and generally work six to eight hours a day. When we moved to Cedar Key, we had a writer's studio built for me, detached from our house but connected by a screened lanai. So this is where I work.

3. What is your favorite thing about writing? What is your least favorite thing?

I'd have to say my favorite thing about writing is all the feedback I get from my readers. Their comments on my characters, plot, how my story affected them, etc. Least favorite? Call me Pollyanna, but I really don't have one. I love writing and the feeling of accomplishment when I finish a story.

4. How do you fight writer's block?

I've never really had "writer's block." I've had episodes where I momentarily get stuck about where to go and what will work to take my plot forward, but when that happens I get away from the manuscript for a few days. Give it time to percolate a little. However, I'm constantly thinking about it the entire time and somehow I find my way back to where I want to go.

5. Please name the five movies and the five books you want with you if stranded on a desert island.
5 books would be: A Woman of Substance, To Kill a Mockingbird, The House at Riverton, The Shellseekers and The Thornbirds
5 movies would be: Casablanca, Pretty Woman, Saving Private Ryan, Ghost and Steel Magnolias

6. What is next for you?
My Christmas novella that I'm doing in the anthology with Fern Michaels headlining will be released November 2010 – An the same time that my second book in the Cedar Key series will be out.

Visit Terri's websites for more information:
http://www.terridulong.com
http://www.islandwriter.net

The Yard Ate My Glasses

Seriously. Instead of staying inside and sitting at my computer like every good writer should, I couldn't resist a bright sunny, albeit brisk, Indiana day. There was so much to do. Leaves to rake. Frostbitten hostas to pull. Bulbs to plant. Decorative grasses to cut. I enlisted my son's help for a while. It's so much easier to cut those five-foot tall grasses with the hedge trimmers if someone has their arms wrapped around the wayward fronds.

Usually when I'm wielding the electric hedge trimmers for this activity I cut through the 100 foot extension cord. It's now more like 75 feet long and has had about five new plug ends put on. I was so proud. The grasses were down … and the cord intact. (Never mind the fact that Reid was actually doing the cutting this time. I still take full credit.) I was feeling good. I handled the hostas. I took care of the leaves and did a final cut on the lawn. What a sense of accomplishment!

At some point during the day I ventured inside to check my email. When I went back outside, I'd forgotten to take my glasses off. I hate, hate, hate wearing them outdoors. I can see fine, as long as I'm looking at least two feet away. I nearly turned around and went back inside to leave the glasses. But I'd gotten warm, bundled as I was in a sweatshirt and a fleece jacket, so I took off my jacket and laid it on the deck and set my glasses on top of my jacket. (I know what you're thinking, and you're so not right.) They were just fine. My daughter stopped by with her wild dog – and the glasses were still fine. She left. It was getting chilly. I put the jacket back on – and slipped my glasses in the front pouch pocket of my sweatshirt. (cue dramatic music here)

As I did this, I thought, "not a good idea." But I was just going to be picking up my rake, trimmers and less than 100 foot extension cord, so no big deal. I picked up the trimmers … and spied the infamous "one more thing." That groundcover was getting to raggy and too tall. I'll just trim it while I have everything out.

And I did. One snip led to another and an hour later, I'd really done some good. Except, my glasses were no long in my sweatshirt pocket.

By now it was growing dark. Did I mention this bed is on a ravine bank and leads to woods? Yeah.

I began my frantic search through the woody groundcover, now trimmed to only 10 inches tall. No luck. I call my neighbor to see if her hubby has a metal detector – a long shot I'll admit. He didn't. She did come over with a "deer light" – guaranteed to blind a deer and anyone else who looks at it directly (sorta like an eclipse). We searched with the light. No luck. I finally had to take my numb fingers inside for the night.

As I fell asleep, I kept thinking of how there was probably a farsighted squirrel out there reading the paper right now.

Next day, 8 am, I'm on my hands and knees going over this ground cover inch by inch, cutting it back until I could see the dirt. And truth be told, I spent the entire day doing this, with the exception of an hour-and-a-half when I went to meet my critique group (and they were all laughing as I came into the meeting, they'd read about my dilemma on facebook). Sun was setting again. No glasses. Unfortunately these are those expensive progressive lenses with all the goodies like anti-reflective coating – they cost too darned much to just let some squirrel have them.

Day three. Raking. Leaf blower. No glasses.

Today I get to go out and go through the leaf piles handful by handful.

Do you feel my pain?

An Interview with Deb Stover

This is a new segment to my blog. I'll be posting interviews with various Women's Fiction authors who are members of RWA-WF chapter, discussing their new releases. This should be a great way for everyone to discover new books as well as new authors.

Here's a little about Deb and her new book, The Gift:

1. Tell me about THE GIFT.


Certain members of the Dearborn Family are born with some variance of an empathic gift. Beth's "gift" manifests in a particularly frightening manner, by enabling her to experience the final moments of those who've died violently. As an adult, she chooses a career as a homicide detective, and--obviously--is very successful. However, the experience of being "murdered" repeatedly takes a terrible toll and she turns to alcohol for
solace. When she hits bottom and seeks treatment for her addiction, she is convinced the only way she can stay sober is to somehow suppress her
gift-turned-curse by avoiding places where the spirit of someone who died violently might contact her. She leaves her position and takes one as a
nomadic insurance investigator.

Her new career keeps her safe and sober for three years. Convinced her gift
has faded from lack of use, she finally accepts an assignment involving
possible life insurance fraud, which leads her to a small town in eastern
Tennessee.

Ty Malone's wife, Lorilee, disappeared over seven years ago. Though the
town and his father-in-law remain convinced she ran away to pursue a career
as a painter in Europe, he has always maintained that the only thing that
could keep his wife away from her children is death. It's time to learn the
truth, so he petitions the court to have her declared legally dead. The
life insurance claim brings investigator Beth Dearborn into his life.

THE GIFT is part mystery, part ghost story, part suspense, part romance,
part thriller. The novel also touches on the issue of women and alcoholism
on various levels. Beth is a recovering alcoholic, and the reader will also
meet a character who is a practicing one.

Both Beth and Ty will be forced to face their greatest fears to learn the
truth, and to find happiness.

2. What pulled you into the story and made you think 'I have to write
this'?

A protagonist always pulls me into a new story. In this case, I "met" Ty's
wife, Lorilee, first. She introduced herself to my muse, and I wrote a
scene that appears very late in the book (it would be a spoiler if I told
you about it) as a prologue initially. Then I saved it and used it later.
From that scene, the entire story evolved. She is the catalyst who brings
about all the events.

3. When did you first begin writing?

I think I was about eight. My first publication was a letter to the editor
of the WICHITA EAGLE at age eleven. I majored in Journalism, then worked
for a newspaper. I wrote my first romance manuscript in 1984. It was a
monster of almost 200,000 words. I still need to burn it.... I dabbled for
a few more years, then joined RWA and got serious in 1991. I sold my first
book in December 1993. SHADES OF ROSE was published by Kensington in 19

4. Please name the five movies and the five books you want with you if
stranded on a desert island.

I hate this question. The thought of being stranded with only five books is
pure torture. I can live without movies, but not books. Can I trade five
movies for five extra books? No...? Okay, I'll try.
Books:
1. THE PROMISE OF JENNY JONES by Maggie Osborne
2. GONE WITH THE WIND by Margaret Mitchell
3. Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy by Nora Roberts (have them all in 1 book
club hardcover edition--is that cheating?)
4. Three Sisters Island Trilogy by Nora Roberts (same as #3)
5. Boatbuilding: a complete handbook of wooden boat construction
By Howard Irving Chapelle [ :-) ]

Movies:
1. PRACTICAL MAGIC
2. INDEPENDENCE DAY
3. ROOTS
4. LONESOME DOVE
5. CASTAWAY (I couldn't find a movie about how to build a boat)

10. What is next for you?

I am currently at work on the sequel to THE GIFT--working title is THE
SECRET. When you read THE GIFT, you will meet Beth's cousin, Sam Dearborn.
His "gift" manifests in a different way. He jokingly refers to himself as a
"psychic errand boy."

Happy reading!

~Deb
http://www.debstover.com/

My thanks to Deb for sharing with us today. Watch for next week's new release, Therese Walsh's, The Last Will of Moira Leahy

Fan Girl

This past month, I've been busy attending conferences. And at these conferences, I was able to get my fan girl fix. Although I attended as a published author, I was just a fan girl for those authors whose work I adore.

For years before I ever dreamt that I could actually string together enough words coherently to write a book, I was a voracious reader (as most writers are). One of my favorites from way back is Tami Hoag. How many nights did she keep me up far past my bedtime? How many mornings did I awaken to the alarm clock with sleep deprived bloodshot eyes? And finally at a Novelists, Inc. conference, I was actually in the same room with her! It was all I could do to keep from embarrassing myself by jumping up and down. And the greatest thing is, she was as fascinating in person as her books are. Meeting her made my conference.

At Bouchercon I was in the midst of so many wonderful mystery and suspense authors ... well, it just boggled the mind. I can now say I've been privilaged to listen to greats like Harlan Coben, Michael Connelly, Joseph Finder, and Sue Grafton. Now if a person doesn't come home jazzed about writing after that, they don't have a writer's bone in their body. Needless to say, I'm jazzed and off to work on my next novel.

And for those of you out there who are writers seeking publication, next week I'm going to start posting and sharing some tools for the trade. Check back!

New Respect for Romance?

This is something of a thorn in my side, so bear with me.

Popular culture is filled with romance. It's everywhere. Advertizing campaigns are centered around sex appeal. TV shows like Gray's Anatomy, Castle, and many more thrive on the romantic plot elements. We keep watching them, in part, for the sexual tension.

Music is emotion based -- and yes, most is centered on the romantic conflict.

Movies, whether billed as romances or not, often include a romantic element. Why? Because we like them. We can relate. And it's a good way to better understand ourselves.

And I rarely see someone roll their eyes in dismissive generality at music, or movies, or TV for that matter.

Why then is it that any book shelved in the romance section of a bookstore gets the social snub? Most often the people who criticize "those books" haven't read "those books". Just as with all genre fiction, there is a wide gamet of material out there. And I admit, there are books that are "all about sex." But those are pretty clear about that fact in the packaging and the title -- so if that's what you're looking for you can find it. Let's stop generalizing the romance genre. Let's view each book for it's own content and entertainment value.

I can't tell you how many people have said to me, "I never read a romance until [insert: event, received gift, urging from a friend, here]. I had no idea! Now I'm hooked."

There are hundreds of fabulous books, deep books, inspiring books, amazingly well-written books sitting on those romance shelves. Be brave and pick one up and give it a try.

But beware, romance novels can be addictive. And if you're allergic to an upbeat and fulfilling ending, you might just want to keep your nose in the air and walk right on past the romance aisle.