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In case you didn’t get flowers

Let’s be honest here, as much fun as we have with what someone called “forced romance day” for many people February 14th is just another day.  Except for my brother…oops it’s his birthday.  Hang on, gotta call him.

Phew, glad I remembered before midnight. My brother flew all over the world for several communication companies.  Then he was caught in the downsizing selling out, good for the investors hell for the employees maneuvers. And saw his years of hard work go up in smoke.  Twice. Instead of looking for another high pressure job, he decided to put his years of experience keeping his house in good shape to use and became a handyman.  Not only is he constantly busy, he’s happier now than he ever was before.

We all deserve that sort of peace within ourselves, however we might find it.  For writers it’s a constant struggle to keep putting out words in a world of distractions, including the never ending self doubts. We look at those we think have it made and we’re sure they never worry about what their heroes say, and never delete thirty pages of their story because it’s one step away from puke on a page.  Same with celebrities…they get up there on stage and belt out their songs, living the dream.

Okay, we know that’s not quite the truth since the media has been all too ready to show celebrities crashing and burning. Once in a while we get to hear about the regrowth of a fallen idol. I came across this in An Interview With John Mayer on I think was the CBS Morning News. I don’t have the television hooked up so this find was totally by chance.  Seems Mayer got to the top of the success mountain, then stepped off the cliff with his attitude, and said some unforgivable things in interviews about the people in his life.  Here’s an excerpt:

“Taking every battle on, not taking a break, not looking at — not being honest, not saying, you know, Let’s admit that we don’t know the next step. It would have been a great Rolling Stone interview if I had said, ‘Here’s what’s going on in my life, I had a plan for myself, I have no idea where I am with this. My dream was to make records. Now I’m gonna make my fourth. And I never had a dream about my fourth record. I never saw it coming where I would be thought of as an infamous Lothario. I didn’t see any of this coming. I’m hugely uncomfortable with it and I wanna cry.'”

It’s always good to read about someone who has experienced self realization. I’m sharing this specific paragraph because of:  “My dream was to make records. Now I’m gonna make my fourth. And I never had a dream about my fourth record.” How many of us stayed up late, got up early, kept our eyes on the goal of getting our first book published.  Maybe even the second book. And never dreamed about the successive books. We might have had a vague idea about “lots of best selling books,” but deep inside never dreamed we’d get to the point of writing that all new not- dragged-out-from-the-depths-of our-computer book.

Our writing buddies crow about words written, scenes added, plots fulfilled, contracts signed. And we mess with new writing software, take workshops, read manuals, striving to get back that initial spark, the romance of writing. We want the gestalt we felt back when word came flying out of our heads and through our hands. And sometimes it’s just not there.

For those who’ve made it through the swamp and are back on solid ground, what made the difference for you? It might help those still mired in the mud.

“The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave
To the night and the empty skies, my love”

Who remembers this lovely song? It was a romantic standard way long ago, made very popular by Roberta Flack in the early 70’s, and describes perfectly the way I felt the first time I met my future husband. To the rest of the world he was just a nice guy, a school teacher. That day, I knew one day I would marry this man. Mind you I didn’t say much to him until many years later, when we were having our pre-wedding interview with the pastor friend who had agreed to marry us. I don’t think I’d ever seen him smile so brightly before that meeting.

This is supposed to be about books as well as precious memories, and I thought for a while about what story first I wanted to share. I think first kisses are so important in our lives as well as the lives of our characters. Especially with such disparate characters as Kendra, the innocent young woman just learning her magic, and Mykhael, far too experienced in seduction, who is discovering the soul he forgot he possessed, in My Killer My Love

***

…He continued to brush her face, her neck, her shoulder with the merest hint of his touch. Until, at last, she gave in
and let herself settle against his shoulder, trusting her weight to the powerful arm behind her back. Replete with sensations, she let her eyes edge open and her head loll back. Immediately, she felt his fingers encircle her neck, sliding around and tunneling into her hair to support her head.

His face lowered to hers, the glitter in his eyes like the heart of the finest emerald. For the first time in her life, Kendra felt the brush of a man’s warm breath against her skin. Where he had touched her with his fingers he now used his mouth, nibbling and tasting, as though savoring the feel of her against his lips.

Not so cautious now of the link between them, Kendra let herself feel just a bit more of what Mykhael felt. A flood of sensations overtook her mind, including a raging arousal that shocked her out of her complacent stupor. Before she could do more than think about pulling away, he’d dropped a screen over that sensation.

Resting his face against the base of her neck, he held her, sheltering her from the world and himself. After a moment of feeling the security of his arms around her, Kendra dared greatly and lifted her arms to slide them around his waist. The shudder that raced through his body shook her—and seemed to affect the clearing around them.

The branches of the trees swayed in a slight wind, always managing to shade them from the sun as it tracked across the sky. Offering and receiving comfort, he held her close, and she felt the harmony grow between them.”

***

A tender scene, which helped build the trust they needed to fight an ultimate evil that had invaded this sacred place. And this wonderful blog hop is about more firsts, from so many talented writers.  You need to check them out.

Click Here For More Firsts

My Killer My Love is available through Amazon, Black Opal Books, my publisher, and anywhere you indulge your love of reading. One lucky commenter will receive their own digital copy.  Enjoy the hop, and many thanks to Kayelle and Krystin for making this happen. If you want to join me on Memory Lane, here’s Roberta Flack, 

I’m blog visiting today, with Sarah Grimm, who’s hosting me for a discussion of my writer self, what I’ve written, what I’m writing. Wednesday seems to be a great day to feature writers and advice on writing.  Angela Quarles posted a great blog about getting over under around or through whatever is stopping us from writing more.

I’m looking forward to more blog visitors. I find I like the interview idea best, but I’d like to mix up the questions.  What do you think about: What’s your elixir of choice (to keep our creative juices flowing) and also celebration of choice (champagne, Kahlua, mixed drink, chocolate?)  First romance book, First book to make an impression on you, Your writing schedule, Your writing environment, What inspires you. If you use a pen name, why?? Favorite genre to read/write. What book has wowed you recently?

A friend added:

Where do you get your back story? Do you ‘write what you know’? You’ve written your first draft. Now what? What’s the process before you publish?

What questions would you like to answer, or to see answered by other writers?  Who’d like to be the first up for visiting? Price of admission is still a recipe, and if I can ever get a good handle on my extra pages I’m going to save the all the recipes in one place.

View to the north…no wonder I distract easily

When we call friends or family, inevitably, someone will ask: “Whatcha been up to?” As a lead in to catching up.  Occasionally the question brings irritation, since what we’ve been doing says too much about the lack of excitement in our lives.  Even so, it can be a catalyst to sharing, and the reply can be:

“So glad you asked.”

In the week since I last wrote here, I blogged for Orange County on the idea of Mature Romance books. Would this be a successful genre? Mature Romances? I’d enjoy hearing your take on this idea.

On the recipe front, I came across cauliflower pizza crusts…seriously! I’ve tried almond flour crusts, which were yummy, but this was my first foray into cauliflower, though I have made cauliflower cheese “bread,” including a green chili version that is pretty yummy. I started with this recipe: Original Cauliflower Pizza Crust

1 cup cauliflower**
1 egg
1 cup mozzarella cheese
1/2 tsp fennel
1 tsp oregano
2 tsp parsley

toppings (make sure meats are cooked)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees Farenheit. Spray a cookie sheet with non-stick spray (or use parchment paper)

In a medium bowl, combine cauliflower, egg and mozzarella. Press evenly on the pan. Sprinkle evenly with fennel, oregano and parsley.

Bake at 450 degrees for 12-15 minutes (15-20 minutes if you double the recipe).

**Most of these recipes call for cooked, riced cauliflower, either fresh or frozen. Sometimes I will get fancy and steam my cauliflower but most of the time I toss the 12 ounce bag of frozen cauliflower into the microwave until it’s hot, then drain, and use my (favorite kitchen tool) stick blender to mash it.

I made this as a pizza on Friday night and (sorry) gobbled it down too fast for pictures.  But the next morning I still had
some “dough” left.  Being of eclectic appetite, I decided to create a substitute for Indian Tacos (fried dough with all sorts of dangerously yummy toppings). While baking the crust, I cooked up some hot green chiles, then added eggs and cheese to the pan. Lacking fresh tomatoes (need to get to the market!) I used fire roasted salsa, and chopped up romaine lettuce as a garnish.  And it was GOOD.

On the writing front, I’ve been dusting off a series I started way back when, about a ranch in Northern New Mexico that serves as a resting place for people who need somewhere to decompress before easing back into their lives after battle. This first book concerns the daughter of a mercenary and a retired combatant. Both of them need to learn to forgive themselves for their past and trust each other if they’re going to have a future together.  It starts:

“She knew that walk.  With a slight hesitation in one leg he prowled like a wounded predator, conditioned to succeed against the most dangerous game of all.  Even limping, his reactions would be instantaneous, his balance superior.  By itself, his body would be a weapon.  He’d be the best man to have on your side in a battle.  After the battle, he’d unwind with a drink and a woman.  The drink would be strong and straight.  The woman would be bosomy and not too bright.  He’d very likely spend more time with the drink than the woman.”

So. Whatcha Been Up To???

First off, if you missed the message, the manic lady pin will soon be in the hands of Pamela Truesdale, through Random.org, since Gwynyfyr was too busy playing in the snow to pick. Congratulations Pamela and thank you all for participating. I’m going through my ridiculously large collection of funky jewelry so watch this space for further contests.

It is a new year, with new ambitions and a new outlook . I have been a writer most of my life, though as Alex said on the fabulous sit com TAXI, most of us see ourselves as anything but who we really want to be.  In Alex’s case, he was the only taxi driver, everyone else was driving to support the life they thought they wanted. All too often I’ve heard “I’m going to write full time as soon as…” and the blank fills in with retirement, children growing up, other people’s dreams.  And they put off writing until it becomes their dream instead of their reality.

Anyone who has followed this blog knows I’m a major fan of Kristen Lamb’s blog, never more so than now.  She started out the year with an in our face blog about not defeating ourselves before we first put pen to paper (or pencil, or ink, or…you get it I’m sure) with Lies That Can Poison Your Dreams and followed up with three days of excellent writing tips, culminating in Talent is Cheaper than Table Salt, taken from a quote by Stephen King, which continues: “What separates the talented individual from the successful is a lot of hard work.” Her blog today is about stepping away from our comfort zones and putting our writing first.  Not necessarily ahead of paying the bills, but definitely ahead of mindlessly watching television, or trolling the Internet for the latest non-news from Hollywood.  Even more, it’s about mindset.

When someone asks “What do you do?” as in what is our major life focus, how many of us relate our current work position? Maybe we have a fascinating hobby we like to brag on. How often do unpublished or barely published writers declare, loud and proud, “I am a writer”? It’s marginally easier for other artists, since they can point to paintings, sculpture, wall art as proof of their abilities.  Writers can only point to a computer screen or a loose stack of printed paper. Those who have reached the level of e-publishing can show a Kindle file, only to hear: “Can I find you in a book store?”  Well, I do spend time wandering the aisles, imagining how MY books will look on the shelves, but I don’t think that’s the intent of the question. Nor is the question meant to put us on the  spot, it’s based on decades of assumptions about our profession. Times and perceptions are changing, let’s change along with them.

So in this New Year, having survived a non-end of the world and fully prepared for any apocalypse that might occur, let’s all stand up and declare “I AM a Writer.”  Yes, we are.