Not quite New Year’s yet, but I did spend some of my art time this morning happily designing a set of Valentine cards, and it’s going pretty well. Since I’m jumping the gun on holidays anyway, why not go ahead with the resolutions, eh?

In the words of the great computer commercial, where do I want to go this year? I will have my first historical romance, My Outcast Heart, out sometime in 2006, which isn’t really that far away. By the time it’s on the cybershelves, I want to have at least one other ready for it. I want to be writing faster. I know I can. Less fussing around and more getting down to business.

So, what is business? Historicals. Big, thick, lush, emotional historicals. With the focus front and center on hero and heroine’s love story, how they beat everything to get their happily ever after. Two people who must be together, but can’t and the way they make the impossible happen, because after all, it’s not only impossible, but imperative. I want to feel their heartbeats.

These headphones my husband gave me for Christmas are a godsend. Truly. A concrete reminder to shut out what everyone else is saying and concentrate on what drives the heart and soul of my stories. Not what I’m not, but what I am.

In my fanfic days, I bucked the trends with abandon. D*mn the torpedoes and full steam ahead, because darmitall, I had stories that demanded to be told, and they were coming out, no matter what. Series canon? Hah! Canon fodder, more like it. Boom! Different pairings! Boom! Mess with the space-time contiuum any time I feel like it. And it felt good. Boom! Marrying. Boom! Burying. Yes, of major characters. With original additions. Boom, boom, boom!

::waves smoke and gunpowder from air in front of monitor::

All so I could pour all of that into writing historical romances, and that’s where I am. And where I need to be.

T'was the day before Christmas and so far I have not strangled anybody.

Though I have hauled out one (1) Eeeeevil Look (tm) and wrapped one (1) actual present myself (my job is not to wrap, as I am exquisitely bad at it; my job is to booby-trap any and all presents given to those over seven or under eighty, so that Scotch tape covers all possible entry points into the actual gift.)

We are color-coded, we are organized (I think the most organized ever, thanks to a system I learned from my Aunt Sunny) and things look good so far. As I said, I have not strangled anybody yet. That may still change.

Since we're dealing with the teenyweeny microscopic tree (which looks gorgeous with mini lights and mini ornaments, btw, with a plaid scrunchie as tree skirt) we decided to try draping a fake evergreen bough across the window above it, and that added the perfect touch.

Much as I love the gathering and the gifting and decorating (not to mention that this is the only time of year that Olivia kitty is allowed to have tuna, as it turns her into a raging tuna monster) the best-best part of the day is remembering the reason for it. I checked the church calendar, and I'm not preaching this week, but wahoo! God loves us and sent a way for us to be close to Him. Definitely worth celebrating.

I have come down with a severe case of mommyitis, and no, I do not have actual children. I know this for a fact because the husband and I frequently do a little checking. Once every couple of months, we open our wallets, call out 'allowance time' and if nobody comes in sixty seconds, we figure we're safe. So far so good.

Still digging out from the furnace guys, though we're past the worst. Christmas looming, and while I always love this season, especially celebrating the birth of my Savior, the stress that goes along with shopping, wrapping, making, coordinating four different households into one gathering and finding a time and cuisine that everyone can/will eat is not the most calming of pasttimes.

Plus the civil but surreal "discussion" the husband and I had last night; topic, "how old is the Christmas tree?" We couldn't form a consensus beteween "not very" and "really" so we're most likely getting a new one (artificial) at Target tonight. There was no official word on the viability of current garland, so will have to keep you all updated on that one. Next possible "discussion" topic: correct amount of ornaments to put on said tree. My personal stance; if you can still see actual tree, you do not have enough ornaments.

This is on top of laundry, presents that still need to be made/finished/wrapped, and exercising extreme caution that I do not consume the entire bowl of hard candies that I am mixing to form the base of the stocking filler. (Combining several different types, and yes, I could just buy Brach's Hostess Mix, but where's the fun in that?) Also trying to see if I should try one more fix or give the heck up and buy a new mumblemumble base (the recipient may be reading this) because I have so many layers of failed attempts at crackling the paint that I am really sure the dad-blasted thing is now shallower than it was before I started.

Umm, and I think my hero/heroine are mad at me. They're looking at me funny, and I don't trust them (especially her) when they get like that.

Your belonging in The Mysteries of Udolpho is quite
evident; a world of intrigue, melancholy,
sublimity and terror. You belong where there
are danger, gloomy edifices, and evil Italian
guardians. Your passion for the passion of the
Mediterranean, the divine contemplation of
nature, and for adventure stories, makes you a
prime contender for a spot in a gothic romance.

Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla

Read about Sylvia's good news today and will consume leftover Chinese food in her honor. Okay, I was going to do that anyway, but now I have an extra reason.

Also squeee on the Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen fan club Christmas card that arrived in my email. Yes, I am a fangirl for an interior designer. Want to make something of it? Didn't think so. The man's work is so flat-out gorrrrgeous that I can't help but be inspired. Slap a few Elaine Duillo prints on the walls, pop Phil Collins or selected Meat Loaf (the singer, not the food) tunes in the CD player, and get out of my way as I race to the keyboard.

Which is something I haven't been doing as much as I would like these days. Though it's turning around, and I am very happy for that. After reading Sylvia's news this morning, I dusted off a romantic vignette I wrote in a writing group exercise a while back, and yeah, it is pretty darned good. Unfortunately, it doesn't fit with what those romance mags taking submissions are open to at the moment, so it may go on my site as a gift to readers. I kind of like that idea.

Looking forward to the Arabella announcement. I think. At this point, I will be happy to know anything, period.

Normally, I don't go to televised cartoons for my perspectives on romance novels, but a particular episode of King of the Hill put me in a thinky mood. The mumble-mouthed Boomhauer discovers the love of his life, Katherine, is about to wed his neer-do-well brother, and sets out to stop things. Stuff happens, and in the end, though Katherine and Boomhauer do seemwonderful for each other, she needs time alone to sort things through.

What had me sniffling was something Boomhauer said. Lots of mumbling, as always, but the part that stayed with me "dang ol' north star; always gonna be there for you," struck me as a perfect analogy for that "you and no other" feeling I love to capture in what I write. Exactly how to do that has become my current fascination. That it that makes it clear that there's nobody for this hero but this heroine and vice versa. The invisible tie between them even when apart. That's the it I'm shooting for.

Normally, I don't go to televised cartoons for my perspectives on romance novels, but a particular episode of King of the Hill put me in a thinky mood. The mumble-mouthed Boomhauer discovers the love of his life, Katherine, is about to wed his neer-do-well brother, and sets out to stop things. Stuff happens, and in the end, though Katherine and Boomhauer do seemwonderful for each other, she needs time alone to sort things through.

What had me sniffling was something Boomhauer said. Lots of mumbling, as always, but the part that stayed with me "dang ol' north star; always gonna be there for you," struck me as a perfect analogy for that "you and no other" feeling I love to capture in what I write. Exactly how to do that has become my current fascination. That it that makes it clear that there's nobody for this hero but this heroine and vice versa. The invisible tie between them even when apart. That's the it I'm shooting for.

One of the first things I did this morning before starting actual work (well, besides fixing the promo for the online class I'll be moderating so that there is actually a URL for people to register...whooooops!) was download a house and family from my Simmy friend, Vicki (in the regard that Vicki is a friend who plays Sims, not that she is herself a Sim, because she is not. Though I did name a Sim Vicki, but lost her in a reinstall.)

Went to put the house in my game, and el crasho. Multiple times. Did a little file vetting and still a-crashing we did go. Long story short, complete clean uninstall/reinstall. Weep, weep. Tracked down the culprit, but hey, these things happen. ::sound of wailing as I realise that no, I had not backed up the files I wanted to keep after all::

But we'll move past that. I have fallen madly in love with the DVD player in the Bunninator. (The Bunninator being the new puter we have at home, a delightful thing.) With this marvel, I can watch a movie *and* write at the same time. Woohoo! At present, our DVD collection is a whopping two: Highlights from the first season of Survivor, and the Robin Wright Penn version of Moll Flanders. Mercy, but I love that movie. So far, I've only had the chance to watch most of the Survivor highlights but did get bunches of notes banged out while doing so. Very neat invention, that Bunninator.

Found a ridiculously easy and fun card design that will make some great presents, with some variations. Might work on some of those tonight.

Actual writing talk tomorrow. My brain is fried with the puter stuff today, but much creative thought has been percolating.

Okay, crying for help here. Decided it was time for a template change, foolishly did not save links ahead of time, and must confess that I am no good at HTML. So if your link was here and now isn't, please send it in and I will put it back where it belongs. Ditto with the blog ring listing. ::sound of silent weeping in background::

Yeah, I thought the day was going too smoothly.

We have heat again, nag group is on hiatus until after the holidays (except for our annual party next week,) we get to join some Messianic friends for a Hannukah celebration on Friday if all goes according to plan, and even as I speak (figuratively) my cover artist for My Outcast Heart is working on rough sketches for a few cover variations. Life is good.

Okay, the printer on the old puter may be dying, but I did also find that Kathleen Woodiwiss has a website (www.kathleenwoodiwiss.com) and features some of her original press and book jackets, etc. I especially love seeing her query letter for The Flame and the Flower. Also some pages from the Good Housekeeping condensation of A Rose in Winter, one of my all-time favourite books.

Seeing that made me remember when I was still on the sunny side of ten, ransacking my mother's Good Housekeeping issues for the novel excerpts, staring for ages at the character sketches (as in actual drawings) and making up my own stories to go with them. I remember two in particular I would love to track down and read the whole books.

Finding the Woodiwiss site brought back a lot of the warm fuzzy feelings (and no, not just because we have heat again) I got when I first fell in love with historical romance. Maybe I'm a throwback. Maybe I'm a new traditionalist (I rather like the sound of that one) or maybe things really do go in twenty year cycles, but that's all for another post.

Day (mumblemumble) of the furnace follies. Last night, at nine-ish in the evening, while I was actually in bed, people, and the husband was getting groceries put away and we were both eyeing the sandwiches he'd brought home, what do we get but a visit from Furnace Guy? He really does exist. Thankfully I'd opted for the filched-from-husband t-shirt and not some lacy number, and executed the pillow-in-front-and-wrap-self-in-blankey maneuver. The other option was to make a mad dash for the bathroom and wait out Furnace Guy, but Plan A was the better choice; after poking around the bedroom, he then had to poke around the bathroom, and how annoying would that be?

Husband asks Furnace Guy if we will have heat tonight. Furnace Guy, IIRC, gives husband the "are you crazy" look and says no. This, apparently, is Electrician's fault, since Electrician could have shaved a couple days off the great freeze if he'd agreed to work at the same time as Furnace Guy, but did not. Electrician had best stay clear of me, or at least be packing some chocolate covered gummi bears and a Waldenbooks gift card. Heat may potentially be on tonight, but I will believe it when I am sweating.

Did I mention we had a couple of hours sans water yesterday, too? No, I did not personally need the water during that time, but it's the principle of the thing. That, and the fact that I am going through a snail mail drought, which always makes me cranky. I want letters. I want Christmas cards. Packages. Especially if they contain anything related to books or stamping.

Laid down the base coat on a decoupage project; boring brown paint, but it's progress. Thing was not brown before; now it is, therefore I did something useful. That, and I also did the work I was supposed to for figuring out the villain for The Wild Rover, and did some more plotting. Should be working on Orphans in the Storm at the moment, but I'm in a mood, so I'm blogging instead. Also vaccummed my printer and the keyboard. Yep, if I'm actually cleaning vital tools, I am in desperate need of good Christmas music.

Shirley Jump

Hey, look, a blog from Shirley Jump. Go see. I'm looking forward to helping with an online class taught by Shirley in January, so this was very neat to find.

Sunday morning, still no heat. ::sigh:: Landlord promises it will be there by tonight, so I'm hoping so. Though I will have microwave popcorn (providing the circuit doesn't get blown by an army of propane heaters, like it did last night -- Landlord fixed it at eleven PM. Now, that's service.) standing by in case I get to watch The Simpsonsunder a mound of blankies. That would be me under a mound of blankies, not Homer and Marge, though that's really their business, isn't it?

Did not get to read last night, but did get to watch a PBS pledge drive thingy on disco, which was much fun. Okay, I was about nine the first time it was around, so I'm getting mine now. :)

Remember my recent posts on not having enough to read? That's far out the window. If I didn't have a job other than writing, art, laundry, cat aunty and family diva, I would have to take time off to read.

Currently reading Connie Mason's Pirate Prince (I haven't read Mason in a long, long time, but hey, this is 16th century and Ottoman, and pirates -- yeah, try and keep me away. Hah, you can't. Neener, neener.) and Virginia Henley's Insatiable (not my favourite of hers, but again 16th century and it has Elizabeth Tudor and the heroine designs her dresses...though a couple of points had me making undignified noises, but that could be just me) and I have Maggie Osborne's Foxfire Bride (one of the very few western writers I read; love her to bits) but I made out like a book locust this week, and especially today.

Today was CORW day, and of course since I have the fabulous Kate Rothwell's newest, Somebody to Love (yes, I will pause while you hum the song; I'm doing it, too) but I snatched the first May McGoldrick release from my special shelf, since the McGoldricks were our speaker. Fabulous, fabulous couple, great writers, great speakers, very nice people, go buy their books now. I said now. Go. I'll be here.

::ahem:: Found out the book I brought (blanking on titles but I know the one I mean; will post here when my brain comes off strike) is a collector's item. No, I will not sell it. They brought more books. I bought more books, including their book on writing with a collaborator, since my writing partner and I are once again feeling the pull of the Monster Historical (huge Tudor saga that occasionally eats us, spits us out and pulls us back in again) and need the information. Bought the first in another of their historical series, and am slavering over them all.

Maybe I can take the time off from laundry? Nah, we need the clothes. Landlord as of this morning still has not done the magical furnace dance needed to restore heat. Hopefully by the time I get back to the abode, it will be on.

Or I can ignore arctic climes and take all those books under the covers.

Haven't gotten actual writing done today, since I spent the morning searching in vain for the one inkpad (Adirondack's rainbow pad in "Noel") I need to do my Christmas cards. Had planned to have a bunch ready for the RWA chapter meeting tomorrow, but that may get delayed if I can't find the dingdang pad. I have a colour scheme, that one fits it, the other ones don't, and though I will be able to visit craft and art stores tomorrow, today I am in my usual workspace, searching.

Got home last night, ready to collapse, and found our landlord in our closet, drilling a hole for the wire that will connect something to the something else that will activate the yet another thing and we will finally have heat again. Oh, blessed heat.

Seeing as how my options were A) stick around and listen to at least twenty minutes of man with power tools, or B) go grocery shopping, the husband came up with an option C) drop me off at Barnes and Noble, do the shopping, and then bring me home. We'll take option C, and gladly. I am that easily bribed. Book tramp and proud of it.

Especially since they had the new RT Bookclub, which they usually get much later than the release date. So, I grab it, page through it, and somewhere in all the suspense and chick lit and erotica, I'm sure there's some romance somewhere. Maybe it's this particular issue or that I was particularly crabby, but oy. I did get to pick up Kate Rothwell's latest and Jim and Nikkoo McGoldrick (who write as May McGoldrick) will be our speakers at the meeting tomorrow, so I should be in a better mood then. Though landlord had the wrong drill bit and will need to drill a different hole today. Hopefully while I am not there.

Just checked the Adirondack site, and made the mistake of looking at some of the other gorgeous rainbow pads. How did I miss getting "Winter Sky" and "Mountain Lake" again? Which names also strike me as perfectly acceptable things to name children in a couple of places I've lived.

Ugh, didn't mean to be away for so long, but we had one replaced furnace (glad to be a renter, yes I am) one new computer (not the one I'm on at the moment) one new microwave, four bookcases, a major holiday (yay, turkey) and a printer that as of today has its own theme song; "We Be Jammin'" Though I'm not sure if that's really a song. It is, however, true.

Plus I am very pleased that I could bang out five pages in one pannicked hour. Amazing what a looming group meeting will do for me. Not that we weave on looms; it's three writers sitting around angsting. Also reading our work of the week. I know these gals will hurt me if I don't make production, and so I do it. Hmm, what does this say about work habits?

Out the door now, so more coherent rambling later, but I am back. Or still here. At any rate, trying to convince the printer that it does so have paper in it. ::whimper::

The furnace people finished with our floor yesterday. While my office is pretty much unscathed, the same can't be said about the apartment. No damage, but huge mess. The husband and I set about restoring some semblance of humanity (and get the huge pile of stuff off the bed) last night, which resulted in my weeding out a shopping bag full of books we know we're not going to read/read again. That was actually kind of theraputic (plus interesting to see how our reading tastes have changed over the years; I know much much better what I want now) though we did run out of trash bags.

While I've been working today, the husband has been hard at work (at least that's the plan; I have no reason to expect him to deviate) making the place human again. We also have (joy of joys) new bookcases from Target to put together, so I am charged with borrowing a friend's phillips head screwdriver on my way home. Since this means I will have real live shelves upon which to plop my oodles of books, you bet I will remember.

Found a bunch of Elaine Duillo covers (which I collect) that I'd thought were misplaced, so very happy about that. Which reminds me I need to stop being such a chicken and mail the dingdang art specs already.

Had a good art morning (though I am still in the "undead" degree of exhaustion) -- finally figured out the right measurements for the background paper I want to use on my Christmas cards. Bemoaning the fact that I have such gorgeous autumn paper and such little actual autumn left (because the day after Thanksgiving is the day I turn my seasonal papers over to Christmas, and retire the autumn ones until very late August.) Good writing as well -- expanded the scene with the bad guy and his lackey, to ensure the safety of the brat and am now working on the connective tissue to mush that together with the scene before it.

Did I mention being tired? We both slept exceedingly well knowing the furnace people would never bother us again. Though we'll love them next week when the heat actually goes on. Thankfully it's been temperate and hasn't gotten really cold here.

Reading Virginia Henley's Insatiable, and while I enjoy her voice and love the time period, I don't think this is going to be one of my favorite Henleys. A Woman of Passion and Undone were gorgeous.

Some days, you write ten pages, and some days you play Sims. I'll leave it up to you to guess which was yesterday and which was today. Hint: nag group was last night, and I impressed them, yes I did. Impressed me, too, which was even nicer. I am well and truly hitting the middle-middle of the WIP, which is a delight. I love middle-middles for all the angst and turmoil they can contain, but at the same time, I dread them for the spectre of sagging that may come upon them. That is them, meaning the middles of the books, not the middles of me. Especially since..ah, I will stop right there, as I am doing the end of the day babble.

It wasn't all Sims -- though my twice-widowed Betty has the worst luck finding a new beau to help her with her four darling simkids-- I did make a lot of domino pins, even gold-leafed the edges of some of them, and ventured into the Christmas theme realm. So that was a pretty productive day. I'll be cranking to go at more writing tomorrow, since my "what happens next" machine is in full gear. Also, I did edit yesterday's pages. Nag group gals insisted I insert something about the villain assuring another character that the heroine's bratty half-sister (which they wanted to slap, which is good, because that's the intent) was never in any danger. Which she wasn't, but hey, she's eight.

Some heroine stuff over here, some hero stuff over there, some time together, and then the bigbad makes his move, tra la. Boy, do I love this writing business. Beats the stuffing out of retail, I can tell you that. :)

Before I go, I am placing a personal ad: Married white female seeks historical romance novel, 1066-1750 for quiet evenings during furnace-free weekend. You, me, the MIL's hand-stitched quilt and a space heater. Publication date not an issue, but middles of series need not apply. Must be willing to travel in purse, as I may need diversion while appliance shopping with husband on Monday.

Thank God for postal workers and Rhapsody book club. My reading slump is broken. What do I find in yesterday's mail but the two latest books in Beverley Lewis's Abram's Daughters series? Woohoo! Love, betrayal, faith and the human condition played out in an early to mid 20th century Amish community.

::pause for happy Snoopy book dance::

Now I have the stregnth to go on. Having one book to read gives me a firm footing to go look at others as well. I normally like to juggle at least two books, preferably three or four. My brain works best when dealing with a small number of things at one time, which makes me the queen of multitasking.

Also very happy with the way last night's Lost went. Man, oh, man, I want to require the entire romance publishing industry to sit down and watch every episode of this show. So, so, so many great storylines going on in this one, each one original, and unique as well as surprising. Last night, I gasped, I jumped, I held my breath. Sun got caught speaking English. We found out why Sawyer is such a sleaze. Rock group guy and pregnant Aussie gal...lovely. Most of all, Sayid.

The man pushed himself to his limits and beyond, and learns the limits of his perceptions. Love, love, love this show. Every character has so many facets that I do not read when Lost is on. I usually do have a book with me when watching TV, but Lost and Survivor (tonight, yay) are exceptions. I love finding out about one character's (or pair, if they travelled together, like Sun and her husband...I'm blanking on his name, so think of him as "Mr Sun.") backstory per episode. I think Sayid's is next week.

::bounce bounce::

Can't wait.

Thank God for postal workers and Rhapsody book club. My reading slump is broken. What do I find in yesterday's mail but the two latest books in Beverley Lewis's Abram's Daughters series? Woohoo! Love, betrayal, faith and the human condition played out in an early to mid 20th century Amish community.

::pause for happy Snoopy book dance::

Now I have the stregnth to go on. Having one book to read gives me a firm footing to go look at others as well. I normally like to juggle at least two books, preferably three or four. My brain works best when dealing with a small number of things at one time, which makes me the queen of multitasking.

Also very happy with the way last night's Lost went. Man, oh, man, I want to require the entire romance publishing industry to sit down and watch every episode of this show. So, so, so many great storylines going on in this one, each one original, and unique as well as surprising. Last night, I gasped, I jumped, I held my breath. Sun got caught speaking English. We found out why Sawyer is such a sleaze. Rock group guy and pregnant Aussie gal...lovely. Most of all, Sayid.

The man pushed himself to his limits and beyond, and learns the limits of his perceptions. Love, love, love this show. Every character has so many facets that I do not read when Lost is on. I usually do have a book with me when watching TV, but Lost and Survivor (tonight, yay) are exceptions. I love finding out about one character's (or pair, if they travelled together, like Sun and her husband...I'm blanking on his name, so think of him as "Mr Sun.") backstory per episode. I think Sayid's is next week.

::bounce bounce::

Can't wait.

Well, thanks a lot, AOL Music. Not only am I in a reading funk (one of those just finished a good book and now nothing is appealing ruts) but after browsing around, I happen to hit on Johnny Mathis. Found "Wonderful, Wonderful." Played it, and was instantly whisked back to mumblemumble years ago, watching Days of Our Lives, when a distraught Jack Deveraux had locked himself and his estranged wife, Jennifer, in her TV studio, determined to win her back. His heartbreaking performance (in true desperate guy mode) of "Wonderful, Wonderful," complete with top hat and cane (or am I remembering that wrong?) had me almost in tears as much as he was. Romantic. Very, very romantic. Big guy ready and willing to sacrifice dignity and be a total goof if it will help win (back) the heart of fair lady. Haven't watched Days in years (heh) but that stuck with me, and came flooding back with a vengeance. (Pardon me while Alanis Morrisette's "Unsent" runs paralell in my mind with the Mathis song. I blame the husband for introducing me to that one, also....gah, can't remember title, but it's the one with the recurring "what are you, my (blank)/you (blank) me like you are my (blank)" line in it)

At any rate, I'm in that mood again. Where I turn into an airport dog sniffing around current releases and TBR mountains looking for the right sort of historical romance (pause to hum along with "Hands Clean" which I clicked on since AOL music did not have the song I was looking for. And yes, L, the relationship in the song *is* an icky one; it's supposed to be.) ::sigh:: Add in the fact that my writing for the day is a disjointed mess, and I have to show the scene to my nag group tomorrow night. Nowhere near ready, but it's finally falling into the right place. Which is better than staying a mess, right?

"Flinch." That's the song. Gorgeous.

The wind knocked the puter out twice today, and I refuse to count how many times the printer jammed when trying to print out flyers for our local RWA chapter. It's been one of those days.

Hopefully can get some writing or reading done (still on the Small, it's been that little time to read this week . Rats, rats, rats.) There is a change in the wind, notably at our RWA chapter. New people taking on different responsibilities. Well, me at least. Giving someone else a try at what I've been doing. Flyers are not my strong point, I can say that much. B�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������

The wind knocked the puter out twice today, and I refuse to count how many times the printer jammed when trying to print out flyers for our local RWA chapter. It's been one of those days.

Hopefully can get some writing or reading done (still on the Small, it's been that little time to read this week . Rats, rats, rats.) There is a change in the wind, notably at our RWA chapter. New people taking on different responsibilities. Well, me at least. Giving someone else a try at what I've been doing. Flyers are not my strong point, I can say that much. Briefly considered kicking self, but that wouldn't do any good, so I'm going to hand them off with a smile. I can do what I can do and that's all that I can do. New challenges and all that.

Started a notebook for The Wild Rover yesterday. Blank book, actually, for notes, maybe new writing when it's time for that. I bought it a few years ago; don't remember how long, but a while. I do that with beautiful blank books. I'll see one, fall madly in love with it, have to buy it, but with no purpose in mind. I take it back home, stick it in the office, and it lets me know when its project has arrived.

This one, with its 18th century handwriting borders, volunteered when I was poking around for something to put said notes in, so I took it up on its offer. It's actually a gardening themed book, with country/semi antique illustrations here and there; it remains to be seen if that will make it into the actual book, but it fits in its own way. Still need to alter the cover. I have a thing about the word "journal" -- don't like it-- so have to cover that, and also the picture of gardening implements on the front. Needs to have something more evocative of the actual book I'll be writing within its pages.

The weekend is going to be packed full, starting with laundry tonight, so while I am carrying my Orphans in the Storm notebook with me, I'm not expecting too much until Monday morning. Though I do have a very good outline for this next patch, so I'm looking forward to that.

All in all, another week, more story.

Happy November, and happy happy Monday. I know I am the odd duck in loving Mondays the way I do, but that could be, at least for today, since I am feeling human after the icky flu, and blazed through a good art morning. Collaged a whole mess of mumblemumbles (stuff I’m making for Christmas and don’t want to ruin the surprise) which put me in a great mood for tackling writerly things.

Actually checked my "official" A Hint of Seduction email, and lo and behold, I had mail. Woohoo. Went through, answered, and some good things look like they could come of it. At the very least, nobody said "go back to retail, you talentless troll" which of course is something that goes through the back of my mind every once in a while. Mind you, I know enough to kick it to the curb as I go on my merry way, but it’s always nice to get mail.

But, writing. Surprised myself by whipping out the blank book in my purse and scribbling through two pages yesterday while waiting for a friend to arrive and whisk me off to church so we could help move from the old building to the new one. Ah, I love being mean to my heroes, and a couple of characters surprised me.

Any writer will know what I mean. That "hey, you guys didn’t tell ME that!" kind of thing, when there you are, writing or typing down the movie that’s playing in your mind, down to the vapour coming out of the horses’ nostrils on a chilly morning, and wham bam, characters start chattering on about stuff that, yes, makes perfect sense, but YOU didn’t think of it. THEY did. Sometimes I think they like tweaking us this way. So, I did the only thing I could do to even the score. Downloaded a lot of things for my Sims. Has nothing to do with writing, but it does restore the balance of power a little.

Ah, finally able to post again. Real life, wonky computer, but I'm back.

Good talk on some of the lists and bbs, about writing, different types of books, and the like. This coincides with my current reading, and makes me keep a keen eye out for something that will tickle my fancy when I'm looking for a new book.

Vlad, our resident bat, is back in the window. He first showed up last autumn in late October, and has been a regular when the temperature is cool enough. I did a little research on his particular branch of the bat family tree, and he's a Small (or Little) Brown Bat, most likely a young single male and will probably stay in our window until he chooses a mate. He'll probably live into his 20s, long after we plan to move. It's fun knowing he's there, like autumn can really happen now.

On the writing front, I'm tackling one of those scenes that makes me want to hide under my desk, clutching a box of Mallowmars in one hand and an action figure in the other, muttering something about Zwiebeck. In short, a scene in which my fictional hero meets a real historical figure, in this case, Charles II, his idol. Only this is a real man, not an idealized figure. Good scene, important scene, but the meaningful stuff, while my favourite, always turns me into a chicken.

Day one of birthday weekend. My friend, Linda, took me out for pumpkin pancakes at IHOP; verrry big portions. I keep forgetting that, so there are pumpkin pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, too. You're all invited. Bring tea.

Trawled the mall for various small errandy things, and got ambushed by someone I will refer to as Nail Girl, who apparently is highly motivated to move product to people, whether they want to buy it or not. I will cover only the salient points.

After explaining to Nail Girl that I have a skin condition and do not want potential allergens touching my skin, she assures me she won't put anything on me, and whips out her nail buffer. This is fine. She buffs one nail. This is fine. Asks for my worst nail (hard to locate, none will win contests) and wants to buff that, too. This is still fine. Now I should do one, because it's easy. Okay, fine again.

Nail Girl will not stop going through her spiel. She whips out a bottle of something she calls cuticle oil, and puts a drop right on my nail. This is not fine. I grab for the bottle to read the ingredients. Nail Girl assures me everything is natural.

Well, that's nice, but the main allergen I'm looking for is also natural -- lanolin. If it and I meet, I am going to need a doctor. No ifs ands or buts about it. Nail Girl does not seem to think this is as important as rubbing the unknown substance into my nail. I get the bottle, no allergen, but now she wants to sell me the whole package, with a big bottle of lotion, whose ingredients it is impossible to read. Puts package in my hands. I put it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Nail Girl begins slashing the price, trying to pull me closer. Her speech is exactly the same with each slice. No. But she'll charge me less. No. But see, here are reciepts from people who bought it. That's nice. No.

Nail Girl is now belligerent and possibly starting to panic. If I had it at home, would I use it? Well, isn't that the point of buying it? But no. I don't want it. I don't like her behaviour, and this is one step away for my calling for security. But I already said I liked it. Yes, I did, but that does not change the fact that I am not buying it. Well, if I don't have cash on me, I can write a check, or use a credit card. No. No. No no no no no no, and this is wasting my time. Goodbye, Nail Girl.

I don't know if this is how I would have dealt with the situation ten or even five years ago, but it felt great. Heroine-worthy; any of my historical gals could stand up to a pushy merchant that way.

Part of me feels slightly guilty, and part of me feels gleefully proud. I've converted another Simmie, my cp, Vicki. A few days ago, she wasn't sure about Sims, now she's buying all of the expansion packs. Bwaahahahaha. Once we have the same packs installed, we can trade families. I finally got the hang of putting stuff up on the official Sims exchange, so been doing a lot of that lately.

Writing -- gorgeous. I have hit that "I am there" stage once more. Even though I have that "throat may be sore in a day or two" feeling (and husband came home from work last night sans voice, oh joy and bleh) it's overriden by the fact that I can wake up in my characters' heads, and it's more fun than scary. Yay, writing. I think part of it is having energy devoted to something that is creative-y but not actually writing. In this case, Sims.

Also experimented with the watermark stamped background I want to do on this year's Christmas (post)cards. Works great. Now to print off all my stuff for writing group and reward myself with a warm bath.

Made the mistake yesterday of looking at the Sims2 guidebook in Target and yes, now I must have Sims2. Of course on the next computer, whenever that happens, but in the meantime, have been giving very unsubtle hints that Sims Vacation or Superstar had best be in my loot on the 24th.

Yep, birthday time again, and no I won't say what number, but I am the same age as Star Trek and the Monkees. You may do the math if so inclined.

I happen to love birthdays. Don't neccessarily have to be mine, but that's always an extra plus. I am a big-fuss person where such days are concerned, even for other people, though most of my family is of the less-fuss variety. Can make for some interesting situations at times, but hey. Variety makes life interesting.

For the past couple years, the husband has come up with the perfect gift, which proves he really does know and love me. He takes me to Barnes and Noble and lets me run amok, and he will not complain about whatever covers are on the books he has to take up to the register. It does occur to me that I've been nicer to him than I could in taking advantage of such generosity. May have to browse during the week and call it practise shopping. Be sure to include the music and stationery sections of B&N, not just the books.

Reading went well last night. Even though they called me to read first – I usually like to be at least halfway in so I can enjoy the anticipation – and it took a while to find the tea on the refreshment table.

I’ll backtrack a little. My friends, Michele and Melva and I arrived together, and went to register. While we all jockeyed for position at the registration table, one of the women behind it said I didn’t have to sign in; she’d done that already when she saw me arrive. Woohoo, celebrity perk. In the small sense of the word, but made me happy, as did the coffee-themed photographs displayed on the wall. I can’t stand the taste of coffee, but I like the smell (plus I do like to coffee-dye papers) and it looks great on film. The arrangement reminded me a lot of what I might see in the Mt Kisco, NY library (oh home of my heart) so that was a lovely plus.

Got up, did my thing – the prequel from Orphans in the Storm, wherein our heroine, Jonnet, is brought to the Isle of Man as an infant, and a lonely old woman does not kill herself. Plus there’s a war going on. (English Civil, to be exact.) Of course I have to notice the one about seven year old boy in the room. Sorry, kiddo. I can’t imagine it was terribly interesting to him, and of course I had to fixate on whoever was intermittently coughing. One does tend to notice these things when behind a microphone in front of a captive audience.

The whole thing went very well. Much applause not only when I said that I’d sold something I’d previously read from at other such functions, but after the reading as well. Had some inquiries as to if I’d read from the book that’s coming out (no, this one is in progress, but the other is similar in tone) and if that one is historical, too (yes.) A couple of friends who I hadn’t thought could make it did, which was another lovely surprise.

Good variety of readers/performers, and of course Melva and Michele were great. I am now poopled, so will yabber more in the morning.

Found a gorgeous research site for all things related to the English Civil War. So, for me, bliss.

http://www.british-civil-wars.co.uk/

Even got to follow some links to maps of both England and Netherlands, in period, on the same scale, huzzah. Didn't get as much writing time as I wanted today, but it's still some, and that makes for one happy Anna. So happy that I share with you a quick course in seventeenth century manners.

http://www.sealedknot.org/knowbase/docs/0099_Manners.htm

Lovely to find, and makes one want to print out copies to hand out to certain people in restaurants even these days. Or maybe that's just me.

Actually went back and fixed one of my "go back and fix this" scenes, and I think it worked out well. So maybe a good writing day after all.

The Dutch book I have with the nice big map that actually shows Breda does not have a legend, so I have no idea what the scale is. Grr. Though Lonely Planet's map will do in a pinch, plus they have a good description of the countryside. As does the lovely stack of books from some Dutch museum I happened upon at a library sale a year or so back. Lots and lots of pictures, with text in several languages, so I can pick up a little more Dutch as I go.

All in all, I have a rough estimate of how long it will take my people to get from point A to point b, and it doesn't look like I'll have to add much more in the way of connective tissue. Which is very good for me.

Finally have my writing space back, and it's glorious. Most of today has been taken with the above research, getting through the email my brain was too overloaded with weekend stuff (not a relaxing weekend, but we all lived) to handle. Tomorrow is new writing for sure. I feel more grounded now that I know how much travel time (no, Vicki, not time travel) we're talking about. That excuse gone, I can push on forward.

Also reached a Sims milestone...successfully posted two families to the exchange on the official site. Will work on getting my favourites up there in case I have to yank everything out when I get Vacation. There is a chance it may arrive in the birthday loot, and if not, still affordable. Sims2 does look interesting, but that would need to be on a better computer, so I'm sticking with the known quantity for now.

Woohoo -- one of my uploaded Sims families has been downloaded eight times, and the other one once. Ah, community. It's a good Monday.

In a very good reading groove with the Colleen Faulkner book in my purse, and the second book in Beverly Lewis' Abram's Daughters Amish series as my bedside book. After a stressy weekend, I knew I *had* to slip away to the peaceful plain community of Gobbler's Knob for a breather. Umm, peaceful if you don't consider secrets and murder and affairs of the heart, both the good and the bad kind, peaceful, that is. I will read anything Beverly Lewis writes, and know it's great.

The Dutch book I have with the nice big map that actually shows Breda does not have a legend, so I have no idea what the scale is. Grr. Though Lonely Planet's map will do in a pinch, plus they have a good description of the countryside. As does the lovely stack of books from some Dutch museum I happened upon at a library sale a year or so back. Lots and lots of pictures, with text in several languages, so I can pick up a little more Dutch as I go.

All in all, I have a rough estimate of how long it will take my people to get from point A to point b, and it doesn't look like I'll have to add much more in the way of connective tissue. Which is very good for me.

Finally have my writing space back, and it's glorious. Most of today has been taken with the above research, getting through the email my brain was too overloaded with weekend stuff (not a relaxing weekend, but we all lived) to handle. Tomorrow is new writing for sure. I feel more grounded now that I know how much travel time (no, Vicki, not time travel) we're talking about. That excuse gone, I can push on forward.

Also reached a Sims milestone...successfully posted two families to the exchange on the official site. Will work on getting my favourites up there in case I have to yank everything out when I get Vacation. There is a chance it may arrive in the birthday loot, and if not, still affordable. Sims2 does look interesting, but that would need to be on a better computer, so I'm sticking with the known quantity for now.

Woohoo -- one of my uploaded Sims families has been downloaded eight times, and the other one once. Ah, community. It's a good Monday.

In a very good reading groove with the Colleen Faulkner book in my purse, and the second book in Beverly Lewis' Abram's Daughters Amish series as my bedside book. After a stressy weekend, I knew I *had* to slip away to the peaceful plain community of Gobbler's Knob for a breather. Umm, peaceful if you don't consider secrets and murder and affairs of the heart, both the good and the bad kind, peaceful, that is. I will read anything Beverly Lewis writes, and know it's great.

What's a gal got to do to get some romance around here? Finally got my RT, and though I haven't had much time to look through things, (thanks to what I term Errandpalooza, which is not the most fun thing on earth) there are days when the romance genre feels, well, lost. For lack of a better word.

Mystery, suspense, chick lit, mainstream, women's fiction, erotica, etc...all great for those who enjoy those genres (the husbnd being a devotee of the good police procedural and occasional media tie-in novel, and I do enjoy some inspirational women's fiction, especially the really gritty stuff) but on the days when I'm starving -- yes, starving-- for a good historical romance, it can be trying times. What I am longing, thirsting, yearning for is a real historical, real romantic, historical romance. Firmly grounded in its period with the love story of one man and one woman front and center.

Two people who must have each other but can't, and the story of how they beat everything in their path, no matter how long it takes, to get there. It may take years. It may take everything. It may take more than they're willing to pay, but if that's what it takes, then that's what it takes. Damn the torpedoes and anything else that gets in the way. That's what I love to read the best, and that's what (I hope) I'm writing.

::sigh:: As I said to a new friend last week, I'm a mouthy wench with an agenda. Yep. Part of this fire, I think, comes from what I've been listening to (delightful moment to find that the Five For Fighting guy loves Billy Joel -- I loooove Billy Joel's music) and the weird schedule with creative time grabbed when I can (and I haven't stamped anything in weeks, another oogy.) My first reaction when seeing the cover of the new RT, with a very nice picture of Christina Skye on it was "man, I miss her historicals." Then the Fan Fiction Frenzy blurb...ah, I remember my fanfiction days and bucking the trends there, too. Really really good colour scheme on the RT cover, too.

I'm fine, but the husband now has a bug. ::sigh::

Good work day, though. Spent much much time listening to AOL music. Now feel compelled to go out and actually (gasp) buy a CD of some sort. Who says writers don't need math? Matchbox Twenty, Five for Fighting (who I think is only one guy, or at least I heard that somewhere.) Very important to the creative process. Also have a novella idea brewing from the "Living With Grace" video that has nothing to do with Will & Grace; beautiful song, and it's telling me its own story.

Got a couple of overdue personal letters out and ready to roll, which is also good, and on the professional side, managed a more detailed outline of the next section of my hero's action for OitS. Quite pleased with that. Of course it means I have to use Charles Stuart (Chuckie II) as an actual character, which gives me a small case of the heebie jeebies, but as long as I can keep it to a cameo, I should be fine.

Also need to figure in new information I have on travel time, so I will actually know (huzzah, huzzah) how long it taketh hero and heroine to get from here to there and then from there to the other place. Which means I can go back in and add the seasonal details that have been conspicuously absent. Which can plump out my page count a bit.

Still no Romantic Times. Wah, fury. Whole sections of car magazines but no RT. Feh. Though Survivor tonight, if the husband is feeling up to it. If not, reading on the couch while he snoozes.

If you're ever contemplating accidentally smacking yourself in the cold sore with a towel, thus tearing off the scab before it's ready, I have one word for you. Don't. Ow. Gross and ow. But on the mend.

The contest stuff is all in and judged (at least my round, but it's off my desk and on someone else's) and today is desk clearing day. Ugh. Not fun, but needed. Still have to check my notes from the RWA meeting to see what I volunteered for. Must also poke around for authors to interview, and, oh joy of joys (sarcasm mode on) update ye olde webbesyte. Then there is the stack of books for review that I can no longer plausibly skirt around. Am looking forward to reading them all, but the thought of more work maketh me whimper.

Don't remember if I was able to post it this weekend, but on Saturday after the meeting, I went to three, count them, three bookstores, and not a current Romantic Times in sight. Feh. I am very grumbly when in sick mode, or when I can't get my RT on time, and when both are happening at the same time...ugh. Let's just say my friend who I was with found the sure cure. Yankee Candle. I grabbed three votives that had "autumn" in the name and was tolerable for the ride home. Any grumbles were met with "smell your candles." Which I did. It works.

http://abc.go.com/primetime/lost/show.html

Lost rawks. Love it, love it, love it.

Take a plane full of strangers, shake well, dump on mysterious island, and then plop unsuspecting viewers in the middle of it. Yes, yes, yes. I love having to peice together who everyone is, what their story is, where did they come from, where are they going, and what are all those tantalising clues scattered hither and yon?

Though the dog had better be okay, that's all I'm saying. Yep, they can rip the pilot out of the plane, and apparently eviscerate or otherwise maul him, run a heartbreaking distress call that's been unanswered for sixteen years, but if they don't make sure the dog is all right, I'm outta there.

Though I had noticed the handcuffs on the ground in the premeire episode, I did not see it coming as to who the prisoner was. Should be verrry interesting. Love the washed-up rock star and the middle-eastern gent, Sayid, who seems to be the one who knows the most about how airplanes work. The doctor hero is pretty nifty, too, but the other guys are grabbing my interest more. Also the Korean couple. And the pregnant woman. And Hurley.Actually I'm hoping for a true ensemble show, though I'm not holding my breath.

I may have been wrong, but did they say in a promo that not everyone will survive the show? Kewl, kewl, kewl. Me, slavering fangirl?

Yeah, probably.

Ah, sweet freedom. No non-feline lifeforms sucking my air today, which makes me stop and ask myself why then the thought of writing the first scene in my outline (scene from the outline; the outline is already written) is scary. I know what has to happen, I know where it's going. I wanted to be in my hero's head for this, and I am, and...if I were a horse, I'd be balking. No idea why.

The actual business of the scene isn't much, and I debated skipping it, but when I went to write what I thought was the next logical step, my brain and characters dragged me back to that one. Feh. Flailing fists and kicking feet. Hero assures me it's needed, though to my mind, it's not much. Character X has to give hero an item he has to go sell to get funds for Noble Cause(tm) relay a highly romanticised version of way said item was smuggled out of its original country, and hero is on his way. Then hero takes item where it's supposed to go and we have a "well, I didn't know *that*" moment. His, not mine.

So yeah, it is needed. Still...if I write it, do I get gummi bears? (likely not, as there are none in the house, but I can play a half hour of the Sims -- I have one family of mom, dad, daughter, granddad, living in a one bedroom house. Too funny trying to get them all to bed, when there is only one double bed (mom and dad) one couch (daughter) and one outdoor recliner on the front lawn (grandpa, but he deserves it; he okayed daughter's adoption when mom and dad were both off at work. Maybe I'll be nice and move them to a bigger house, but poor grandpa did so much work on the garden that I hate to leave it.)

Umm, really, I am not a professional Sims player. I do write real books, really I do.

I am also miffed that Spike TV took away my Highlander break.

Hopefully you will see a bear trying to chat up a bear statue. One of the many fun things Claire the Bear does in the Sims. The Sims2 is out, but my puter is too puny, and I have Sims1 expansion packs yet to try.

Still relatively early for a Sunday morning. I don't have to light out of here until nine-thirtyish, and it's far before that now, so reading a few blogs, killing time. Told myself I wasn't going to Sim this AM, but probably will. Thanks to those who have posted on my name question. Names have fascinated me since I was a little, little kid, so I always want to know what everyone else thinks about them.

Often when naming a character (or a house; must name two of them for the current WIP, Orphans in the Storm, and am drawing a blank, so it's things like This House and That House until I figure it out) I'll come up with a quality of sound, or a letter that must or cannot be in there (yes, I'm anal about names, thank you for noticing, and please use a coaster.) There are not a lot of suitable English names for females usable in the 18th century (the names, not the females -- oh bother, I need more tea) starting with "T." Taffy and Trixie and Tiffany will not do. I did settle on one, which is actually a Spanish word rather than an English name, but with an explanation for why the heroine has an unusal name, I think I'll be okay.

Phew. Have also outlined the middle middle (or at least the start thereof) for Orphans in the Storm and am very pleased with how that's going. Wondered how I was going to get my h/h married, and yep, there it is right plain. My heroine told me how it was going to go, and I said that was fine with me, and viola. It's lovely when characters want to cooperate.

A whole week? As my friend Kat would say (Kat being short for Kathleen, who is a person, not an actual cat) "ragga fragga." Feh.

Nothing earth-shattering, though a friend did get laid off, which has resulted in me having people on top of me (as in sucking my air, not literally...oh, nevermind; it's close to lunchtime and I need protien. Or protein? Meat.)

But anyhoo. Reading the April Moon anthology from Harlequin Historicals, and while I have enjoyed the Merline Lovelace entry and the Susan King one (my first by her so far) I'm still not a Regency girl. Love Miranda Jarrett, but her entry is next, and like the other three, it's Regency, and the heroine's name is Sophie (did I mention my "thing" about Sophie before? No disrespect to any Sophies or mothers/daughters/sisters/friends of same who may be reading.) I miss Jarrett's colonials, one of my favourite periods. I do like how all three stories happen over the course of one evening in this anthology, though.

While I'm still here, an informal poll. My first. Showed some of my notes for The Wild Rover (working title for story in the idea stage; will likely change) to a cp, and while she said she likes the story a lot, the hero's name doesn't work for her. As in really really dislikes it. The name in question? Declan.

I like it, but poking around, found it's listed as Irish, and my hero is Scottish (18th century) Grumblesigh. Naming can be an ordeal, but I do like it. I did like Declan, too. CP wants me to call him Dougal or Dugal -- I do like Dougal, but that isn't this character's name. A book "mama" knows these things.

So -- working off the cp's comments, I'm curious; what does a hero's name "look like" to you all? Any particular names or elements of names or anything about names that would be an absolute dealbreaker?

It's a good day. Found out early in the morning, after finding evidence of non-domestic rodentia, that we really don't have to worry about the provider of said evidence. Olivia kitty had already dispatched it. Not eaten, just killed. Good kitty.

Also worked on getting my furry mess of scenes trimmed down and into order, in the body of the ms. I have more than I thought I had, plus it gives me a good indication of where to go next. Yay. One of my CPs, Vicki, who is a talker, like me, called my villain creepy and insisted he have a horrible horrible death before the end of the book. ::salutes:: Can do. Piecing these out of order scenes together actually brings kind of a rush. Points in the right direction and keeps up the momentum.

AOL music is still part of the process. I may have to break down and actually...gasp...buy CDs. Forgot I like Matchbox Twenty; better support them.

Road to Writing: Me? Avoid? Never!

Testing the "blog this" feature by adding the link above. In short, found Lynn's blog, and will add to links. It's still early, only one cup of tea in me, and my brain does not arrive until the bottom of the second cup.

I can very much relate to one of Lynn's rants on working at home. It's far too easy to allow things to take up writing time. Sleep being a big one. I don't get enough sleep, and boy is it tempting to grab some during the day.

Or more likely knowing me, to force myself through the day without a desperately needed nap because I can do it. Of course that usually leaves me staring at the screen and making a sound somewhere in the neighborhood of "urrrrgh." Hopefully today will be better.

You know what I'd like? Some really good historicals. A whole batch of them. My reading lately has been pathetic. Mostly that I haven't had time, with the family schedule getting tossed in a Cuisinart. It's not a slump, really. I've been stealing passages from Valerie Sherwood's Bold Breathless Love, a favorite reread, and man oh man. I can see Wey Gat, the grand plantation on the Hudson River, where her heroine, Imogen fights circumstances she herself had a hand in creating. It's like jumping into the 1650s reading this for the umpteenth time, and knowing --while the character doesn't-- what's happening to the boy she thought she was in love with and the privateer who would hold her if he could...must lock self in bathroom with the faboo handouts from Susan Meier's talk on Saturday and analyze.

I'm almost at the point where Imogene makes her escape from Wey Gat (high on my list of fictional places I wanna to go to now) --though not quite in the way she thought-- and man, how I love the way this one act has consequences and repercussions in the three books that follow it. I really miss the big thick bug-squasher historical romances where one couple's story could take two books. Then there might be a story for one or two of the kids. ::take moment for contact high from pile of Jennifer Roberson's Sword Dancer series -- six books, one couple; yeah, I know, sold as fantasy, not romance, but it's a love story, darmitall! I do have a couple of her historical romances around here somewhere::

I did pick up a Harlequin Historical anthology at Sunday's library sale (I'm still mad at Harlequin for taking historicals out of retail distribution, but then again I don't have their sales figures or marketing experience) -- April Moon. Regency era, I know, but Miranda Jarrett (loved her colonials, want more of those) and Merline Lovelace (super nice person, and gets to write in all sorts of historical settings) and this Susan King person will be new to me, but she's in good company. Though one of the stories has a heroine named Sophie, a name that flat out doesn't work for me; conjures the image of a particular Cavalier King Charles Spaniel at a particular moment. Also sounds like "soapy," which makes me think of what soap tastes like (yes, that's how I know; I was five, I think) so will probably call heroine something else as I read. Am I the only one who does that?

Thank God for AOL Music. Amazing what a few dozen (okay, it only seemed like that) repititions of the right songs can do to give creativity a kick-start in the tuckus. Which is another good thing about being the only human in my work environment. If Olivia kitty doesn't like the music I'm playing, she goes off to sleep in the closet. Really doesn't work for non-fur people, so it's just as well.

I know I don't listen to music like "normal" people. Put in CD, listen to song one, then song two, then song three, etc. Nuh-uh. Case in point, one of the best creative gifts I ever recieved was a cassette tape consisting entirely on one side of Meat Loaf's "Objects in the Rearview Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are." I'm the type to listen to one song on a loop over and over and over and over again until I get the story from it. Then a few more times for good measure. This can drive non-creative people certifiably insane.

For me, it works. Every time the song plays, it's like peeling back a layer of onion. New meanings show up and I try to write fast enough to get them down. Either that, or assume near-fetal position, shutting out other stimuli to concentrate and focus. This has earned me the "weirdo" badge on more than one occasion, and I wear it proudly. Right next to my RWA PRO pin.

So that's my day. Including writing. Which is always a good thing.

Greetings from the walknig dead. Or, as the husband would put it, "very happy but very very tired." Yesterday was our RWA chapter's (::waving:: Hi, Kate!) first conference with guest Susan Meier and Sandra Marton, and the proverbial good time was had by all. Old friends, new members, catching up on critiques we didn't get to finish from last week, plans to get together and start an in-person and/or online critique group, and if the gorgeous wallpaper in the women's room turns up missing, we know nothing about it, do we? (insert innocent look here)

Added a trip to the annual library sale in my dad's town to the regular Sunday affairs. Not a lot in the romance department, though that section would be a category lover's dream. Several trads as well, but not a lot of the historicals I was there for. Snagged a few other books to begin the husband's Christmas stash, so I am well ahead of the game.

Ran into my old high school librarian at the sale, and when she asked how I was doing these days it was fun to tell her that she must have done her job right, since I just sold my first novel. She agreed she must have, and peered into my box to see if I had "good books or trash." While I debated inside my overheated cranium (sun, sun, sun) what to respond with, she proceeded to tell me how she liked going home to "read trash" after being around all that nonfiction and stuff all day. I told her my novel was a romance, and she said that'll do. I don't know if she was a romance reader when I was in high school, but way to go, Mrs F!

You'd think there would be more to the day's writing than drawing little boxes and writing people's names in them. Yep, that's right, I have reached the stage of the diagram. In which I know what has to happen in the scene I write next, but have no idea how to go about it. Completely stymied.

So, we go to the visuals. Three boxes and a circle. One box for each floor of the house. Circle is outside. Write names of people who will be on each floor (or outside) in the appropriate shape. That way I know who would logically be close enough to butt in on the action, and who can't possibly know what's going on. It's a place to start. Usually a little diagram work can get me right back on track. Hopefully this will be the case here, because I hate it when a scene is hard in coming.

Since The Husband is home tonight, hopefully I can talk him into getting dinner, which may buy some more writing time. Plus we need toothpaste. If I send him out for that on his own, there's a good chance he'll get the orange kind, --cinnamon is better; I'd also take mint, but I'm the only mint person in the house-- but I'm willing to take that chance so I can play with my boxes and the fallout from them.

Despite a distinct lack of social emails in my in-box today (must remind self is normal holiday thing) I am still in a good mood. One of the things I really like about having signed with an e-publisher is that I get to have lots of control over the cover art --and control freak is very much me in this regard (and others, but that's another post.) Right from the time I found out I could choose my own art/artist, I knew who I wanted to use; Tim Harrison (must find and post some of his stuff, with permission.)

We'd met through a mutual friend, when we were both working in the fanzine "business," and his illos clicked with my writing. As in he'd read the story and bloop, there are the original characters looking the way they did in my head. Ah, bliss.

Will skip the boring how we found the right phone number (which was the wrong phone number, but he happened to be there anyway, which I think is delightful) and yes, he would love to do the illustration. Huzzah! In the words of Animal from the Muppets "me so happy."

Augh, big picture again (but that was in the code already, I'm sure) and for some reason, my actual post didn't show. Urgh. Anyway, I have My Outcast Heart ready to send in (final version, eep) and did more work on the new story idea this morning. I love it when pre-writing falls into place that easily. Still don't know the exact era, but I have it narrowed down into a timeframe, and know the nationality of one of the pair, have a good lead on the other, since it would work perfectly for the plot.

Work on the WIP on Monday, I think, since the husband is off tonight, and we enjoy being with each other too much to get any work done. Mostly finding something Law & Order related on the tube, and reading bits to each other out of whatever we're each perusing at the time. Boy, are we old and married. :)

You're Laurence Llewelyn Bowen! You used to be a
complete riot, but now you're just plain
stylish! 8 out of 10 CR viewers like you, women
adore you, you're the creme de la creme of
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Poor Mama Hick -- at least in my Sim game, she has become the poster child for Upside Down Head Disease. We may have to name it after her if it happens again. These are things that go through my poor cold-ridden mind when I've been trying to get the final manuscript together. Which is coming along quite well. I'm ready for "baby" to leave the nest and go on to the next stage.

Which, quite appropriately, is when another idea cleared its throat and waved politely in my general direction. Which is always welcome. Was watching first season episodes of Highlander this morning, and had to put my foot down that it was one hundred percent unfair that Duncan and Tessa didn't get to have a HEA.

Don't remember the title of the episode, but it's the one where at the very very end, Duncan agrees to move to Paris for Tessa's job. I remember thinking "if this were a romance novel, it would end with this that and the other," and my noggin started making lists of how to begin the translation process to straight historical romance. So we'll see how that goes. Definitely will revisit when my sinuses clear and I am no longer a slave to the Riccola.

The hot and cold running nostrils and weird fuzzy throat feeling are either allergies or a cold. Either way, they get trumped by the husband's foot (nothing serious, we think, but we know of a work shoe that needs to go bye-bye) and even that is not getting in the way of me finising those edits. Home stretch here, and I have passed the "this book is total (litterbox filler)" stage to the "yeah, this book is good" stage and am looking forward to turning in my final product. Still kind of scary, but neat trumps scary.

Work on branding continues, as the husband came through with a wonderful date night on Friday. Barnes and Noble. He knows me well. Came home with the third book in Karen Ranney's Scottish series, and the Romance Writing For Dummies book by Leslie Wainger (already have Julie Beard's Complete Idiot guide, both excellent.)

There's a chapter in the Waigner book (I know I spelled it wrong one of those times) about ten plots editors know well. Moment of crystallization; My Outcast Heart is a marriage of convenience story set in Colonial New York. Aha. Concise way to convey some flavor of the book right there. At least part of my brain is working even with the weekend heat. Thankfully, things should be cooling down soon.

Have an appointment to bounce the scene for Orphans in the Storm that has me stuck, off Vicki tomorrow, so that should get me going on that. Also need to make list of all partial ms's, and reasons why I am putting off finishing them. Then we get to rank them in order of how much I like them and prioritize. Cracking whips on each other seems to work very well.

Off to soak.

Ugh, hot and humid today, so went out with a friend to seek air conditioning. Our mission -- to get her stocked on Valerie Sherwood's backlist, because I am a book pusher, oh yes I am. Got her about four or five books, and one Colleen Faulkner medieval for me (I have all the Sherwoods, and this had a gorrrrgeous Gregg Gulbronsen cover.)

Engaged in conversation with clerk, as usual (had to bring each other up to date on things since last visit) and the Harlequin shakeup came up naturally. She hadn't known this, so we started talking about what this is going to mean for the HH authors, and noticed another cutomer waiting behind me. Clerk asked if the customer would like her to ring things up, and she said that was why she came to the register, but this conversation was more interesting.

Turns out other customer was visiting from Virginia (IIRC) and she mentioned she belonged to a chapter down there, and one of her friends pubs with Flipside, and still has books left on her contract, so what is that going to mean? I said I didn't know, it would be better to go to the source, but it spawned more talk about how publishers are seeing things vs how readers are seeing things, vs how writers are seeing things, and as my dad's ex-fiancee would add, "the green grass grows all around, all around, the green grass grows all around." (Familyspeak for talking in circles, even if it's entertaining.)

Strong views and a loud mouth...common to our sort, I'm sure. A good time was had by all, and I mentioned to my friend that I was considering PRO liason for our chapter. She said I'd be good at it. Still trying to find out exactly what that entails, but if the above qualifications plus a desire to do some good mean anything, I think it might be right.

Note to self...never, ever again allow picture to be taken in beige shirt with no makeup and hair pulled back. This is not flattering. The beige shirt must die. What was I thinking? At least one picture has my head turned somewhat so it is apparent I do have hair. Let's not mention the "Joe's Home Brew" sign directly behind my head either. (It was at a friend's home, and her husband's name is Joe, and he does brew his own beer, but we were drinking sparkling cider.) Ah, well. A good time was had by all, and that's what matters. It was a fun evening. Though all in attendance agree these are probably not going to be candidates for author photo-hood. Need real picture with makeup and hair down and no deer-in-headlights expression on face.

Maybe I'd best wait until my singed eyebrows grow back from following comments regarding something I've been following at I have read, I have not commented, and I am staying out of it. Too reminiscent of fan wars from my STTNG days, and when all the fur gets unruffled, several people have very good points that would make an interesting and intelligent debate. Brings to mind my favorite writing quote from the late Eugenia Price: Not every writer is going to please every reader. That's why there are so many of us.

Had a good writing group last night, excellent workday today. I've come to terms that I am at my best when multitasking, so chatting with another writer friend while simultaneously doing email and edits and looking for Sims stuff (fer crying out loud, half an hour to download the leopard-print buyable baby cradle? But I'll still probably get it before the weekend's out) results in me getting more done than if I'd tried to force myself to quietly do one thing at a time.

Should finish reading Sherwood's Lovesong tonight. Will likely follow with another oldie. These suckers are getting my writing gears going, big time.

I am still not used to the new daily schedule, though it is "usual" by now. Grr. At least I got the new RWR in the morning's mail, and they had the first episode of Highlander on Spike TV. Both good for feeding creativity. ::pushes HL fanfics under desk with foot::

Another case of Upside Down Head Plague wiped out half of that same Sim neighbourhood. Knocked out three whole families (including one that just left an orphaned boy; deleted him out of pity) and one poor sim and his daughter (and their new kitty) -- this is the third wife he's lost. Darned plague! Hmm, with all these plague problems, maybe I should be writing a medieval? The idea does have merits, and I have sketchy notes somewhere. Though it is tempting to follow my Sims around and write down what they do. But that's not what I'm here for.

I know I need some creativity fuel...laundry doesn't do the trick, but it does provide clean underwear. Looking into possibility of going to NJ conference, which would be lovely. Realistically, may not be do-able, but still nice to think it might be. If nothing else, our chapter has a one day workshop that I can make, so that's going to be great. I'm the sort who needs some face to face with other romance writers.

Ah, enough. I better go make myself do at least one page, else I count this a procrastination day. I don't like those.

Whoops. Did not know the card was going to display full size. Sorry for any slow load times that may have caused.

Because I am unutterably pleased with myself for figuring out how to post pictures, here's the front of a card I made a couple of years ago for a friend. The central image is from a Star Trek calendar page:



Husband and I tried a new Chinese takeout place last night. Which should read as I was wearing go-outside clothes, he was not, so I got elected to go get stuff. Best Chinese we've had in years, and our two regular Chinese places are pretty darned good anyway. The capper, though, is that my fortune cookie said (I am not making this up) "romance will take you in a new direction." Made husband give it back to me after he read it, since this is definitely one for the scrapbook. Which I also need to get back to.

But today's work. I am still a busy bunny, doing the edits and going over what I have to date on The Spirit House, which idea I roughed out roughly (pun intended) about the same time I started Orphans in the Storm, which is what I should be writing on instead of blogging. Especially since I am ahead of schedule (really unheard of for me; must mean I really want it) on the edits. But the Chinese food comes into play.

Not only was it that darned good, but while I was waiting my tired hot and sweaty (not to mention crabby) self for the food to be ready, I sat in a chair opposite a gorgeous photo mural of three boats on a lake in China, and immediately my brain kicked into gear.

Okay, says brain, story here; Europeans in China, or somewhere in Asia. One of those boats has someone Anglo on it, maybe Scottish, looking for English heroine, the only two non-Asians around, trouble brewing, and really, those boats should be facing the other way, since the big happenings are going to be on the shore, and hero wants to get there in time...

...and no, I don't know what happens next, but we did get free chicken fingers for getting such a large order.

Culled from a previous post that was deleted:

Since the husband needed some quiet time to snooze, I talked him into sending me to the movies last night, and he suggested I take a friend. So I did, but when we got to the theatre, there was nothing either of us wanted to see, so hied ourselves over to Friendly's (east coast chain restaurant with faaabulous ice cream) for dinner and talk about books. This friend isn't a writer, but she's a fan from way back in my fanfic days, (not how we met, but part of how we became friends) so it's good to keep her around for book talk. Much talk about the depth of plot and character and historical detail we've seen in the past and which I hope to include in what I'm writing now. That it must be this particular man, and this particular woman, in this particular time and nobody and nothing else will do. That's what I'm shooting for. One man, one woman, one lifetime. Hmm, could be a good "brand." Must add to list.

That should either show you or take you to the picture of Alastair and Luisa's Sim wedding. Now I can turn my Sim energies to revamping the trailer home (not theirs, another family's) into a Martha Stewart worthy showplace. Ahh, not jail. Bad example. From trailer trash with a stove in the middle of the yard and three unhousebroken dogs (actually now four, and two of them are housebroken, the other two almost there) to a Better Homes and Gardens type deal. Hey, it keeps me off the streets.

As does writing. I want, no, need to get the final version of My Outcast Heart off to Awe-Struck. I know I could probably send it right now and it would be fine, but things like the two instances where the character Gray Wolf was listed as "Gary Wolf" and the sage advice of a family friend who is a writer to always always check for myself so there are no surprises, pull at me, and yank me through every single page. I want to know that everything is right and I am giving them the very best book I can.

Of course doing this while reading two of my all time favourite historical romances ever points out all the things I would do book-surgery on in MOH if I could...and really, I could if I wanted, but this is the book they asked for, so this is the book they'll be getting. Live and learn and write another book another day.

Like today. I dug my partial and outline for The Spirit House out of the mothballs so I can run it by a couple of friends who completely jibe with me on related matters. We'll see how that goes. Also have exceeded the editing goal for the day, and it's now the time I usually sit down and start work, so yeah, there is a fire under me.

So many partials that I want to finish, along with the current WIP, Orphans in the Storm, that I could freak myself out if I wanted to, but I'd rather use the energy and the talent God gave me to keep going on with one step at a time and shut off the worry switch. I've had it on long enough.

Very little reading getting done (though I may be unfairly comparing my potential reading time to that of my friend who keeps asking me for really good romances to kill downtime between work spurts at her job.) but I'm ahead of schedule on the edits, and I like that . Would love to get more writing done as well, and that will not be a problem. I'm getting back into my groove as it were.

I'm a talker. There is no surer way to shut off my creative impulses than to stick me in a room without human contact and expect me to produce something. I need to talk it up one side and down the other, inside out and upside down, and then everything falls into place and I can zoom across the keyboard and get things actually written. Which is why it's good that my friend Vicki and I tend to be online at the same time. Second day in a row I've been doing the edits while chatting with her, and second day in a row, met the goal without feeling like I'm peddling a bicycle uphill.

I'm at that "yeah, I could edit a little bit more" stage, wanting to check over a page or two more than I'd planned on, because...gasp... I like it. Every bit I do here gets me that much closer to sending in the final manuscript, which I want to do ASAP and see the release that much sooner.

The RWA PRO booklets (available to PRO members only) were posted today, and I had the best time reading through them. Yes, I did get a good contract, and the more I think on the first refusal clause, the more I think that yes, I can tweak the abandoned book about Dalby's mother into a romance rather than women's fiction and slip that in. I'm also thinking about a futuristic inspirational duo I had put on the shelf, but after talking with Vicki, I'm going to have to hunt for the partial and outline of book one.

When I was writing fanfic, I had a dozen or more things going at once, and though I might fuss and stomp a bit, I could get them all finished. Not put a "the end" on every single one, but get it to a place where I could comfortably say "that's it for now, life goes on." End of that episode. I have missed the plate-juggling aspect of writing and I think I may be ready to pick it up again. Too many partials, and I want them to be fulls. And we all know how that works.

End note for the day: finally got Alastair and Luisa married in the Sims. Will upload picture tomorrow.

One would think a romance author would have an easier time getting two Sims to wed. Which is the thought I try to push out of my mind when doing actual writing and writing related things (still not used to the family schedule shifts which have people sucking my air during early morning and evening, when I am used to solitude.) The dreaded upside down head plague struck my neighbourhood two in my Sims game, and sadly, many families were left without one parent. Which of course I can't have, so must find mates for those widowed.

Two families were easy; one had lost the mother, one the father, and both adults left were already friends, so a little dinner, a little tv, a dip in the hot tub, viola, blended Sim family. I've never had a four kid family before, so this is interesting. The fact that they have four bathrooms and the dad defers showering until wife and kids are off for the day makes things much smoother.

Since the plauge mostly hit adult female Sims (probably because those Sims were more sociable, and it's spread through social interaction) most of the singles I had left were males. So, in a very romance-writery mood, I decided I must find new mates for them all from amongst the townies. I will be able to think normally again in my non-writing time, as soon as I can get Alastair (a rather good looking doctor with two sweet boys, and come on, Sim gals, he's wearing a kilt) to close the deal with Luisa Townie, a lovely woman who wears bunny slippers all the time. I like to think of it as endearing. Hopefully, he does, too.

This is not a mere avocation. This has become personal. I, as Romance Writer, must make Sim love blossom. Especially since as of two-ish this afternoon, I met my editing goal for the week on My Outcast Heart.

I'm on a mission. Get the final edits in, send off to Awe-Struck, and keep the ball rolling. I really truly have a book coming out and the hunger has hit. We're not meeting for nag group this week, since one member is on vacation, and will have to miss two weeks in September since another member will be on vacation in Italy, so I'm keeping nose to grindstone. Of course it does help that another writer friend is online during the time that do the edits, and Vicki nags me throughout our conversation. Sometimes I need the cracking whip.

Which also comes in the form of the reading that got me into this business in the first place. Bertrice Small's The Kadin and Valerie Sherwood's Lovesong are my current reads. Vintage Anita Mills, Katherine Sutcliffe, Catherine Lyndell are all getting the eye from me. I'm also eyeing some of the knock my socks off inspirational historicals that first hooked me, for rereading. Angela Hunt's Theyn Chronicles medievals, and Francine Rivers' classic Redeeming Love. Ain't nothing sweet about these babies, and man do they pack a punch.

While I'm on a roll here, I have new reviews of two Laura Kinsale books up at Italics online. www.purplepens.com Go read.

Taking a short break from the family tree work I've had to do for Orphans in the Storm. Last week's meeting drove home the fact that my hero, Simon, is a firstborn rather than a middle, so move his sisters around on the tree to reflect that. Also finally pick names for the bad guy's parents and work them into the mix, without resorting to the "default" names. By which I mean names I've seen so many times in romance fiction that I automatically put the book back on the shelf because either A) the name is possibly going to be "shorthand" for the character's traits, or B) I've read so many characters with this name that they are more than likely going to blend in with those gone before.

I know I'm more exacting than others on this, and some of the names that get this reaction in me are favourites to others. Then again I have a penchant for more unusual names. Maybe it started with the Disney Sleeping Beauty being Aurora. Still a lovely name, and would love to see it used more often.

This morning's work meant curling up in the comfy chair with Teresa Norman's Names Through the Ages, which I highly recommend. Check to see what names were used in the 17th century, and note the light pencil marks telling me which ones I've already used, what I have tagged for future use, and what's still up for grabs. Had to jettison one name, since it's too similar to a character in a collaborative work who is also on the bad guy side, and I do not have the brainpower for that sort of sorting anytime before midSeptember.

Still need to finish a particular scene before group tonight, and maaaybe if there's time, figure out why it is that my computer isn't reading its D drive as present. I love writing, but for my breaks, I miss my Sims.

She's back! Had some browser problems, one overheated week, and one RWA chapter picnic in the meantime, but hopefully updates are back on track.

One thing to be noted; when there are four writers in a four-passenger car, that also means there are no normal people in the car, which does matter when trying to find a place that nobody wrote down directions for and everybody kind of sort of remembers pretty much where it was. Also helps to have someone with a charming accent around in case directions are needed. Who can blame someone for wanting directions in a strange country? Especially in a shopping complex where everything really does look the same.

I know I'm going to be getting a lot of mileage out of that ride back from the RWA picnic, especially the fact that nobody had to clarify what "pick somebody who looks like a reader" means.

In short, gathering with those of one's kind is absolutely paramount. I didn't know how badly I needed to be around my chapter sisters until I actually got the chance. Thankfully, next meeting is in the first week of September. Critique session, yay! Though I do have to figure out what to bring. That's always the tricky part. Five pages, usually the first five, but I already brought the first five of this WIP to the last session, so will probably choose from one of the backburner stories. Maybe the prequel to My Outcast Heart. I still have time.

Have actually begun the process of giving the final polish to the final manuscript of MOH, which is actually scarier than sending it off to a publisher in the first place. That this...is...going...to...be...the...final...version gives me the shivers. Then again, that's only the final version that goes to the publisher for the final edit, which comes back to me to check their edit, and then that's the final.

Pant, pant, pant. It's still good, though, and I'm pooped. More manana.

Ugh, summer heat and humidity. We of Celtic heritage (redhead skin, need I say more?) do not take it well. When the floor waves hello in the morning, it's time to call in overheated and plop self in front of box fan with an endless supply of bottled water. Which describes my Sunday.

Of course a book lover like me insists on having something to read, but since my brain was fried, seared and parboiled, picking one out was impossible. Even after a spirited rant to a dear friend on how romances used to be and why I miss that. She tossed (quite literally, lobbed from across the room) me a copy of Jennifer Roberson's licensed Highalnder novel, Scotland the Brave.

Even being pukey-overheated (I do not exaggerate; I've had heatstroke in the past, and now days like this hit me like a steamroller, pun intended) my brain latched onto A) Jennifer Roberson (I love her Tiger and Del SwordDancer fantasy series, which I maintain is really a romance) and B) Highlander -- enuff said. Okay. Open book, start reading in between frequent and extended naps.

Contented sigh...yes, this is what I come to the party for. I especially loved the wistfulness of Duncan's longing for a Scotland he can never have again, and all the poor sots who go for pop-culture version of Scotland and don't know what the real deal was. Roberson can manipulate my emotions like a preschooler with a handful of play dough, and that's the way, uh huh uh huh I like it, uh huh uh huh. Now to carry this over into my own writing.

But first more water.

Yes, I do want to cry like a little baby...for about five minutes, then I'm fine.

Michelangelo kitty 99% most likely has what the vet calls Litterbox Aversion, which means something happened to make him not like his litterbox anymore, which means we hew-mons get to play detective to figure out what he does want in a litterbox. Which may be as easy as having one his pesky sister can't get to, or having a different kind of litter, or a lid instead of an open box, etc.  He's fine, but if he could speak English for thirty seconds, the whole process could go a lot faster.  Or if we could speak cat.

Then, I got a very very very good rejection from the first agent who had my full ms.  She loved the book, but had some reservations about marketing, and asked for something else. Which I will be very happy to send her as soon as I finish Simon and Jonnet's book.  I find it ironic that the hard-to-market book is the one I already sold . It is a different sort of a book, but I'm still liking the irony here.

Then there's an email from a friend about a joint venture and miscommunication, yada yada yada.  Short form, I didn't know something had gone a certain way, which gave friend an impression that was false, that resulted in consulting another party I don't know, which blah blah blah...let's cut to the chase and say I don't have time for this sort of stress.  In general, please, please, please check with the other person before assuming.  It can save time and blood pressure.

At least I'm reading a wonderful historical romance by Colleen Faulkner, which definitely reminds me what I'm in the romance fiction business for.  Though it doesn't make up for losing the head skin for a favorite Sims character in the reinstall...site I got it from is gone, head vanished, and can't change the appearance of Townies.  Grumblesigh. 

I'm going to go take my hormonal self to the kitchen, fix some lunch and then write.