Inspiration from the Baking Aisle

I was shopping at Meijer over the weekend and run across a new baking item that I simply had to have, so I could go home and experiment. There was no specific plan for it, no real thought process behind it, I simply grabbed it and put it in my cart.

Fast forward a few days, and I've used to my taste buds delight, and up popped my characters who'd gone into hiding/grieving/holiday/whatever for the past few months. April was hard, I lost my Uncle, my old dog, and one of my young dogs all in the span of a month. All of them unexpected, and my writing got shoved into the back corner of the closet.

Delighted as I am that they're chatting up their story lines, it's still a bit of a rough time. I've been resorting to dictating to my phone, using my Dragon software, and any other short cut I can find to get the words out as I run around the house puppy-proofing. Because, yes, we are getting another puppy so the lone puppy here will have a pack member to play with.

Once the decision was made to get a new puppy, Jess (one of my favorite characters) decided to lay claims on it, making it necessary for me to find a way to introduce a dog into her story line.

Pantser that I am, it's both easy and hard to add a dog into the mix. Which book should he/she be introduced into, how does he/she fit into her future story line, as well as her life.

It's all good in the end, the writing is flowing again and my characters are back to tease me with new ideas. I'll take inspiration any time I can get it.

Inappropriate Inspiration?

There was a recent tragedy in my state, perpetrated by a reportedly “sane” man. The court is waiting for evaluation results for good measure.

Regardless of what the state determines, the suspect has an interesting story on the "why" of his crime. As soon as I heard his explanation, my writer brain took off with a potential story line along a paranormal/conspiracy theory/mystery twisted line. At first I felt bad, getting a story idea off of a tragedy even though I often borrow pieces of real life to incorporate into some of my stories. Then I decide, what the heck, and asked some friends what they thought.

I got an interesting mix of responses back. Some people thought it was totally inappropriate to write up a story that was inspired by such an evil act. Others told me they thought Stephen King may have already done a story along the same line, only a few thought I should go ahead and tackle the storyline, thinking I might be able to have an interesting take on it.

When I read that Stephen King may have already done something similar, it started me wondering. Where does King get his inspiration? Are they from inappropriate places, such as real life evil doing or do they just come to him like many of my other characters do? Then I really began to wonder, how many other writers may get their ideas from “inappropriate” sources of inspiration – whether it be personal tragedy, global tragedy, or local tragedies perpetrated by humans – and whether or not they feel guilty or bad for basing a story off of a real life event.

I'm still debating whether or not to write up the story line. I have notes jotted down and luckily I have more than enough WIPs in the queue that I need ot work on that I can let it sit for awhile before making a decision.

So here's my big question: is it “normal” to feel uneasy about a story idea that jumps out at you from today's headlines? How would you, as a reader, feel if you throughly enjoyed a story that you discover is based off of a real-life tragedy?

NaNoWriMo Failure

It's been sometime since I've blogged and it's been some time since I failed a NaNoWriMo, but this year I did. My day job interrupted my writing time and I ended up finishing with about 35,000 words (I didn't validate my novel).

The good news is I'm still working on a new book, new characters, new Cozy series. This one is a true cozy - strong female lead characters, a romantic interest and a murder to solve. I'm hoping to have it finished up this weekend and then I'll be making a concerted effort to polish it up, get out some synopsises to agents and hope I get a bite.

One thing I am really hoping for is that the publisher will use the photo that prompted the story. It was taken by a dear friend of mine and it's the second photo of his that gave me my NaNoWriMo project for the year.  I love a lot of his work, I love that they give me story lines, but I regret that they give me entirely new book series ideas. I simply don't have that much time to write, given that - like the vast majority of writers - I have a demanding full time job, plus extended family and pets galore.

I really don't care which book series get picked up first, by an agent or publisher, as long as one gets picked up I'll be happy. I won't forget the rest, that's for certain. Jess, who started it all, deserves to have her stories read, even if I have to self-pub them, save money up for cover art to be created, and market them all by myself.

Everything I learned in English Class

Has been forgotten.

I have a new critique partner, which is awesomely wonderful. He is very honest, giving me the good, the bad, and the ugly about my work. Exactly what I asked for and needed. With his input I'm sure I'll be able to get my writing to that level needed to be worth publishing.

However, I've realized everything I learned in English classes in high school and college has left my "building". I've had to look up Protagonist and Antagonist again to get a more detailed idea of where I'm missing the mark. Being a techie, my writing revolves around user interfaces, system consoles, ROI and cost-benefit analyses, not fictional writing.

I find myself wondering why I "think" I'm a writer. But then something funny, odd, somewhat hysterical happens: characters invade my space with story lines, new problems and genres I rarely read let alone have the vocabulary necessary to write a story that will pull the reader in.

For example, Hallmark Channel was having a Christmas in July movie-thon and I was listening (and swearing profusely at an uncooperative server), when an entirely new character sauntered into my brain, plopped herself in a comfy chair and snarkily fed me a story line. A romance story line no less. I believe she actually belongs to Simone Anderson, but for whatever reason this character has decided I'll be the one to write her story.

That's when I remember why I think I'm a writer, because I have to write. Sure, I don't know all the rules or remember all the terminology, but it's the only way to shut up all of the people in my head.

Switching Genres

I had a surprise last weekend. I learned that I may have a future in erotic romance. It was unplanned and completely caught me by surprise.

GRRWG has a Winter NaNo challenge. It's like our own mini-NaNo event that we use as a motivation to write as well as a fund raiser.  If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, it's National Novel Writing Month, affectionately known as NaNo. Basically, you write a 50,000 word (or longer) novel. But it happens in November when most of our writer's are extremely busy. So we do it later, after the holidays.

Anyway, this year I entered, not sure what I was going to write, but used the results of an writing exercise we'd done for that month's meeting as a starting point. Set in Grand Rapids, Michigan (that was a surprise, I tend to write in the SouthWest and East Coast), it started out pretty straightforward as a story about a business consultant. I just let the character take me where she wanted to go, no plotting for me, I'm a total pantser.

Imagine my surprise when other characters popped in that are more like the characters that two of my fellow GRRWG writers, and dear friends tend to have. Pretty soon my straight-laced, independent, strong willed, smart business woman was losing her clothes and getting naked with not just her boyfriend, but her BFF as well. Pretty soon another male jumped and there were naked bodies and naughty characters everywhere.

This really caught me by surprise and I keep telling the Big Guy what my naughty characters were up to and wondering where they heck they came from. I don't normally read romance, unless it's the sarcastically funny and foul mouthed characters that come from MaryJanice Davidson (I simply ADORE Betsy!) or occassionaly something from a fellow GRRWG member, like Simone Anderson, Suzanne Graham, and Jenny Trout.

(Seriously, if you like romance or erotica check out our GRRWG members at grandrapidsregionwritersgroup.blogspot.com).

As a result, I simply don't have the vocabulary built up for all the necessary euphemisms (I mean really, how many times can you reuse the clinical terms for human genitalia without sounding like a medical textbook?) and was sure I was writing something as badly written as 50 Shades of Grey. Yes, I did try to read that book but couldn't get past the horrid writing of the first chapter. If you want kink, I can point you in the direction of better writers than that.

Certain that I had written the worst romance since 50 Shades, I had three people who read and write romance read a few scenes from the verbal vomit I had spewed into the electrons on my laptop's hard drive. I was shocked that not only did they like it, they assured me I wasn't as bad as 50 Shades.

I'm writing up the ending to the book (last I'd left them, all four were naked and doing naughty things on their friend's living room floor). Suzanne Graham is willing to read it, tell me if it is salvagable enough to publish, and - hopefully - co-author it with me since she has all the vocabulary to turn the story around. Only time will tell.

Still, color me surprised!

Cancer just sucks!

Cancer is eating up too much of my life of late. I'm fortunate, I'm not the one who's sick, but my sister and a very dear friend are both battling different forms of the disease. My mother already fought and won her battle with it and remains clear to this day. Another dear friend's daughter has done the same and is back to being a sweet, funny, smart vibrant girl.

My dear hubby shaves his head every few days, and sports a pink ribbon tattoo in support of our dear friend battling breast cancer. I'm trying to squeeze time in to sew (working around a big project at work) and throw together some comfy, lightweight pants for my sister who is battling pancreatic cancer and needs "adjustable" pants as the tumor progresses. I'm also putting togethre pink ribbon tote bags to sell via Etsy, with profits going to cancer reseearch.

Chemo makes both my sister and my dear friend crazy. It's not just the nausea, but it's what it does to their heads, both in mood and in the capability to think clearly. While my sister has made the brave decision to stop chemo for her own sanity and quality of life, my friend continues on in her attempt to beat the cancer which is slowly trying to take away her life. She battles it bravely, dealing with the nausea and chemo-brain issues. She is forutnate, her employer is extremely supportive of her, sending gifts, continuing coverage, and being active in every fund raiser.

Even my writing is taking a back burner, except for the rare occasion when my characters bug me to write. Publishing is taking a back seat to life, finding an agent is taking a back seat to life, but my cookbook continues to move slowly forward. After all, this book isn't about trying to get "known" but simply putting together something for my family and friends who've requested my recipes multiple times.

I haven't been blogging lately due to all the demands. Doing the math tells me it's been almost six (6!!!) months since blogging here. How does one find more time in the day without giving up sleep?

Jess makes me laugh

Jess, from my Jess Barker series makes me laugh often.  Today at my writers group meeting she had me laughing in my head.

Trying to explain how she feels towards another character, here's the piece of dialog that had me laughing:

Jess:  "There are not enough words in the English language to describe how I feel about you. To call you a slimy disgusting insect is an insult to the even the most disgusting insects I can imagine.  At best, you are a malignant mole on Satan's ass."

Gave me a visual derived from the Adam Sandler movie "Little Nicky", which makes me giggle even hours later.

My characters, gotta love 'em!

"Cash for Clunkers" Fall-out Victim

Last night I was having a major pity party, throwing a bit of a tantrum and in tears. I received devastating (well, for me it was devastating) news yesterday afternoon that the axle that we had a line on for my old Bubba truck had the wrong gearing, wasn't setup for ABS or 4WD. At best, we can hope for an axle rebuild, should we be able to find the parts.

Thank to the efforts of my state's Senators (yes, Debbie Stabenow you are one of the guilty!) push to pass "Cash for Clunkers" in an effort to boost auto sales, there are far fewer replacement parts for vehicles of all ages.  Even more so for a 22 year old pickup.  My beloved Bubba truck was a victim of that *oh-so-brilliant-move* (can you hear the sarcasm dripping here?) and my heart was broken.

Fast forward to this morning, when I did just what the wasteful legislation wanted me to do all along, and I went and "replaced" Bubba with a new vehicle. But not quite in the way they'd hoped for. My new vehicle is a new Ford F-150.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I may have bowed to buying a new vehicle, but no I did not spend the extra $3K to get the new Eco-boost V6 Ford is so proud of. Nope. I got me a big honking V8 that gets an estimated 14mpg and 19mpg. Which is far less than Bubba's 22 and 24.  Bwahahaha!!!

Unfortunately for me, the seats are cloth, not the vinyl that I wanted. The windows are powered, not manual like I wanted. But I did score the only vinyl floor on the lot, and it doesn't have Sync (I fix Microsoft's buggy code all day, I don't want it on my vehicle), it's the color I really like, and it's very plain Jane.  I can live with the pieces that aren't exactly as I wanted, however, I'm not sure I will ever get around to liking the horridly ugly and poorly laid out dash.

I'm hoping to get a special license plate for it, if what I want is available, I'll have to wait and see on that as you can't get special plates here the day you purchase a new vehicle.  Part of the problem of not having the DMV and dealer lots connected by computer. Oh, and you can't buy a vehicle on Sundays in this state either.

Fortunately for my old beloved Bubba truck, it's not completely falling victim to the evil plans of DC.  Instead, it's becoming my project truck. My dear hubby bowed to my pouting and shouts of "I don't want to get rid of Bubba truck!" and we will slowly get it restored as funds and parts cooperate. I could really use having my brother nearby to help with it, but alas, I'm not moving back to my home state and it doesn't look like he'll move my way.

None of this has much to do with writing, other than the impact it has had on my emotions. When I'm not happy, writing doesn't happen, so not much has been done on any of my series and the majority of my characters have been quiet. Except for Jess, who pouted and sobbed with me.

Only truck owners really understand other truck owners attachments to their old work horses, perhaps that's why I love Jess so much.

If you happen to live in the Greater Grand Rapids Michigan area, I highly recommend Tony Betten & Sons Ford. They let me take off with the keys and drive the new beastie around sans sales guy, got it all washed and shiny, gassed it up, and dug for every rebate and discount possible for me. Had Bubba been 5 years newer, I would have gotten another rebate, but alas, no go.  As it was he found us over $4K in discounts to go with our X-plan discounts.

Bubba has a new fan in our sales guy who can't wait until it comes in for the axle replacement so he can see what all the fuss is about. He even hooked me up with a really good parts shop that seems to find the hardest to find parts.  Which is pretty cool, considering the first time I had Bubba there for repair, it was misdiagnosed and they fixed it for free to the tune of $1,800 worth of repairs. Love that they stand behind their repairs!

The Liebster Blog Award

Had anyone bothered to ask me four or five years ago if I'd ever write a book, let alone a work of fiction, I would've told them they were nuts. It was never my dream to be a writer and it would never have dawned on me that I'd ever write a novel or even a blog. Then Jess popped up and I wrote my first draft of my first book in less than a month. 

After submitting the first book to a few agents, I realized I would need more help if I were to ever get this thing published so I checked out a few local groups. They didn't like Jess, because she swears, and the first book is a bit dark in spots. (How can you not get dark when writing about a dead child?)

I then found Grand Rapids Region Writers Group and emailed then-president Cheryl Sterling about whether or not I might fit in their group, given Jess' penchant for swearing like a drunken sailor and having a BFF that is a Drag Queen Diva. The very first meeting I knew I found a new home.

Fast forward a year, and here I find myself the recipient of the Liebster Blog award courtesy of Patricia Kiyono, a fellow author/crafter/seamstress/procrastinator (I especially love that last one). Patricia Kiyono has fun blog Creative Hodgepodge – complete with cute grandbaby pictures - and is the author of three current titles at Astrea Press: Aegean Intrigue, A Chrismas Phoenix, and The Legacy. You can check them out at her site or purchase them directly from Astrea Press.

The Liebster Blog award is supposed to be given to "up and coming bloggers who have fewer than 200 followers". Thank you Patricia for granting me this honor! And now it's my turn to pass it on.

All that's required to accept this award is:

1. Thank the person who gave it to them and link back to that person's blog.

2. Copy and paste the award to your blog. (It's up at the top!)

3. Choose 5 blogs to award in kind and break the news by commenting on those blogs.

4. Hope those people pay it forward in turn by accepting and awarding "The Liebster Blog Award" to blogs they'd like to honor.

I'm choosing these five bloggers:

Erica Clodig at The Pen is Mighter than the Darkness. Erica is the one who introduced me to NaNoWriMo, where Collie was “born” and has an amazing number of books in progress and who, like me, is not yet published. She inspired me to keep working on my writing and gave me my first introduction into the writing world.

Jennifer Armintrout at Sweaters For Days And Moves Like Jagger . Jennifer is the USA Today best-selling author of several paranormal romance novels and makes me laugh often. She's also the one to get me into my first real critique meeting which has been hugely beneficial and loaded with lots of much needed advice and suggestions for improvements.

Mia Watts at The Art of Seduction is Watts Beneath the Covers. Mia is one of the writer's I connected with at the first meeting and assured me that Jess' swearing really isn't an issue. She also is a prolific romance author who appears to have book releases every week!

Tanya Eby at www.tanyaeby.com. Tanya is my mentor and writes fun, quirky characters that I can totally relate to. She has an amazing sense of humor and continues to keep my faith up by allowing me to see her own struggles with getting books published.

Andrea Dickinson at Diary of a Romance Writer.  Andrea writes some amazingly hot, quick romance reads and has a similar appreciation of the LGBT community. She also makes me laugh often and I could easily spend a day having fun with her and feel like we'd barely gotten started.

So those are my 5 nominees, now to finish up the comment/contact instructions!

You know, for being currently unemployed I seem to have tons of work to do.

I got paid to write!

One of my favorite global software companies contacted me to see if I would like some contract work during my current unexpected unemployment. (No worries, I had an offer just 3 days after being released from the last job).

I just wonder if being contracted to work on some ROI and Cost Benefit Analysis documentation is truly considered writing in a freelance sense. The really cool part, is they like what I've done already and asked me to help with another piece of collateral material that is needed. It's certainly been a fun, geeky project for me to work on.

The bad part: Jess and company are still waiting in the wings - impatiently - for me to work on their stories. Hopefully I'll get some downtime this weekend...although I do have some studying to do for the new gig.

It's kind of nice to be busy, and wanted, again.

Ah, at last!

I have a break. An unplanned one that started out a little stressed, but is wrapping up fairly quickly. The nice thing is I will have time to sit and write for a long stretch at last.

Paul has been bugging me to hurry up and finish up the second book in the Jess Barker series, so I can get on to "his" book in the series. Jess, in the meantime, has been harrassing me to hurry up and finish edits on the first book and hit up more agents.

The Scot is patiently waiting in the wings, while I do more research. Merie has been unusually quiet, while Collie has been chattering like crazy of late. I think it has something to do with the weather as she's not happy about the weird weather pattern we've been having. I, however, have been loving it!

Jess and Paul will be appeased. There is a competition coming up that I think fits Jess pretty well. I'll be checking into that tomorrow and see if it's a good fit for Jess' book or not. I'm crossing my fingers that it is.

Overwhelmed

I was flipping through a slew of Writer's Digest emails that I hadn't caught up on, and realized the my knowledge of the written word is sorely lacking. Which made me feel overwhelmed and a bit like a fraud.

Who am I to think I could possibly be a published author? A writer, sure maybe, just for myself and to get it out of my head, but do I really have what it takes to be an author. I simply do not know.

I know nothing about formal plots and many of the writing terms are alien to me. Like what is a "leitmotif" and a "formula plot"? Most likely I have that same dazed look my clients get when I talk about LUNs, SANs, and SSL certs.

The last class I took in creative writing was most likely early on in high school, may ninth or tenth grade. I certainly didn't take any in college. I was concentrated on doing the bare minimum on my breadth courses and far more concentrated on the core courses required for my major. English, not being my strongest subject, was at the bottom of my list.

I can only take comfort in knowing that MaryJanice Davidson has several successful series of books, is a New York Times Best-selling author, and assured me that a college degree in English or Literature wasn't a requirement to getting published.

Yes, I will admit it. I'm a bit of an MJD stalker. I hope she doesn't mind too much, but she does give me hope that maybe, someday, even if it's self-published, I'll have a polished book for sale out there somewhere.

Even if I don't know what a leitmotif is.

An Interview with Jess

I was debating about whether or not to post the first chapter of some of my books on my blog. So, as usual, I went to my writer's group – Grand Rapids Region Writers Group – with the question. There was some difference of opinion, but Simone Anderson answered the question I hadn't asked.

So, I'm not posting chapters here. Why? Because it is possible that a publisher may consider the work “published” and may not pick it up. Since I haven't decided if I'm going to self-publish yet (I'm still trying the traditional route of finding an agent) I decided to heed Simone's advice.

Her advice included the idea of posting interviews with (or of) my characters. Or at least that's how Jess has interpreted it and she hasn't shut up about being interviewed ever since. To ease my aching head and shut Jess up for awhile, I agreed to interview her.

So, with no further ado, here's my first ever interview with Jess Barker from the Jess Barker Mystery series. Hopefully it's not too silly and you may get a good giggle. And I've warned Jess that if she swears there will be a [bleep] posted as I'm trying to keep this blog somewhat G-rated.

JC:     Welcome Jess! So, how about telling everyone what's it's like to be you?

Jess:   What it's like to be me? How the [bleep] do you think it feels to be followed around by a bunch of dead people that won't leave you alone? It's kind of like being Tori Spelling when she's pregnant and the paparazzi are following her non-stop. Only no one can see my 'paparazzi' because they're frickin' dead and mine have the added "'bonus" of being able to follow me into the bathroom stall.

JC:      Ooookay....uhm, I did warn you I'd have to verbally “bleep” you, remember?

Jess:    Oh, so now you're going to play like you're a saint? You know your mouth is as bad as mine.

JC:      (I'm trying hard not to chuckle here) No, I'm not playing the saint here. Everyone who knows me, knows I can swear with the best of 'em.

Jess:   Fine. (she's pouting)

JC:     Wanna tell them anything else?

Jess:   Nope.

JC:     Sure?

Jess:   Positive. You're not doing this way I wanted you to, ya know. (she's still pouting)

Jess:   Quit being a [bleep] and telling them everything I'm doing or I'm walking sister!

JC:     All right, all right! Geez, you're grouchy tonight. What's wrong?

Jess:   I'm tired! My horrible boss made us all work overtime, and my dead groupies whined all night at me about paying attention to them so I haven't slept in over 24 hours.

JC:    Sorry. I know how grouchy they can make you. How about we talk about your work instead?

Jess:   'K. My actual work is pretty boring. The bad part is I work in a hospital so I'm always on alert to ignore the dead running around there. It's a bit tough because my two best girlfriend's work there too, and they don’t know about my stupid cursed gift.

JC:    So, from your point of view, interacting with the dead the way you do is a curse?

Jess:  Yes. A curse. Definitely.

JC:     Is there anything about work you do like?

Jess:   The good thing about work is that Maggie works with me and we get to see Cora fairly often. On occasion, I even get a long enough break to meet Paul for lunch.

JC:     Why don't you tell everyone about those three?.

Jess:   Well, Paul and I met in college. He's like my brother and sister all rolled into one. He's been my BFF since the first day we met. I mean, who doesn't love a good Drag Queen? Maggie is a genuine sweetheart, gorgeous inside and out and she always knows when I'm arriving at work, it's a bit unsettling. And Cora, well, she's feisty, a fighter, and a bit of a cougar. She's always got an eye on some cute young guy.

Cora:   Now wait just a minute! I am NOT a cougar.

JC:      Well, hello Cora, Maggie, Paul. Nice of you to join us. Is this the way it's always going to be? I try to interview Jess and you three jump on in?

Paul:    Oh, quit it. You love us all and you know it. (Paul grins as he plants kisses on our cheeks)

Maggie:  Hi, JC! You know perfectly well that wherever Jess is we're not too far behind. Someone's gotta keep her on the sober train.

Cora:   Seriously! I'm not a cougar. I'm forty, fit, and fabulous. What man in his right mind wouldn't want me?

Paul:   Well, me doll. You're just not my type. You know you don't have the 'right parts' for me. (Cora sticks her tongue out at him making him laugh)

JC:      Enough you two. C'mon you guys. I'm trying to interview Jess and it's becoming a three-ring circus (like usual) in here!

Maggie:   We're sorry. What else did you want to know?

Jess:     Aw, [bleep]! Give it up JC. We're done here. Let's take this circus on the road and go get something to eat. I'm starving and want something chocolate!

JC:       Fine. But I get dibs on the hot fudge!

Sorry folks, this is what goes on in my head on a routine basis. Welcome to my world!

New Business Book

A friend of mine just released his first book today. Self published on lulu.com, he's working on getting it into Kindle and Nook formats.

Here's the blurb on it:

This book is a collection of 9 BlissPoints. They are unique marketing concepts that the author has developed over the past 22 years of marketing for Hi-Tech Start-ups and Fortune 500 organizations. These BlissPoints have enable him to see things differently, no matter the situation. They are examples where he has stolen the show and literally moved the spotlight away from the traditional and focused it on the unusual or the unique. Each point is a different area where he has found success by emotionally connecting to his audience and by doing things a little differently. The author believes in going against traditional thinking and exploiting things that others have missed. So, here's his challenge to you: "Look for the value and overcome the fears that keep you from stepping out on stage, whatever that stage may be. Go ahead! Steal the show." 

He's always had GREAT ideas for IT companies, so I thought I'd share. There may be something in there for authors too.  I can tell you, he has a loyal fan base from the various IT camps and we love him enough to follow him into his new career of writing about business.

Just thought I'd share.
Stealing The Show

BioWare's Star Wars game

I work on tech all day, last thing I want to do at the end of the day is do more tech stuff. My poor, dear hubby asked me to learn how to play this new Star Wars game (think Star Wars meets World of Warcraft) over my Christmas vacation. I have yet to even setup an account.

Blogging after a day of techie stuff isn't so bad, it's quick enough and I can write in LibreOffice and do a cut-paste when I'm ready to put it up. Not quite the same as playing a game for hours or working on a web page, This Star Wars game eats up a ton of time, and based on what I've seen of the interface and how much he's on the keyboard, I'm still stalling learning it, even though I'd have my own personal tutor, I'm resisting learning something new.

I'm stalling on making a web site for myself as well. Tweaking code and designing pages after a day of troubleshooting broken tech isn't a passion of mine. So I'm always looking for help.If you have any comments on layout, colors, whatever, feel free to leave me a comment. I'm always working on my writing and blogs.

I'm also working on pulling excerpts from both the Jess Barker and Fey Life series to post. Problem is that Jess requires a bit of "editing" to make her language more family friendly.  Perhaps you'll laugh as I do at my characters from time to time.

Come on by this weekend, I'll hopefully have some more Jess stuff posted by then. Perhaps I'll add another page for excerpts and short stories.

The Christmas Party Story Challenge

Tanya Eby a fellow member of GRRWG challenged us to write a short story about a Christmas party. I don't know how "short" this is, but this is what I came up with.  Not like what I usually write, it was still a fun challenge.

The Christmas Party

Nervous excitement coursed through me as I left my hotel room, checking my hair and makeup for the umpteenth time in the hallway's large mirror while waiting for the elevator. Last year, I'd been a mere team member. This year I was returning as the first-ever woman to successfully manage the launch of a new product line. I couldn't wait to politely rub the good ol' boys noses in my success.

I'd fled to the Mid-West after I graduated college, never realizing how culturally “backward” it was from my West Coast upbringing. Once there, it didn't really matter. I was far away from the one person I hoped to never lay eyes on again, and if fighting the good ol' boy network was the price, I was willing to pay it.

The product launch and marketing campaign had been a huge success. I had vindicated my bosses decision to promote me to the spot, and even one of the Senior VP's had congratulated me for a job well done. With a final pat of my perfectly coiffed hair, I turned at the sound of the slow elevator's ding.

The doors opened, and my heart fell to my stomach, the self-satisfied smirk left my face as my jaw dropped. I quickly composed myself, hoping he hadn't looked up in time to catch my expression. Damn it! It was my own fault. I shouldn't have been thinking so highly of myself. I had jinxed my night.

I politely nodded as I entered the elevator, pressing the button for the floor where the party was already in full swing. Turning to face the doors, I acted as if I didn't remember him. Perhaps he wouldn't recognize me. After all, it'd been almost a decade since we'd last seen each other, and my style had changed dramatically. Gone were my usual ripped jeans and bare feet. Tonight I was wearing an elegant ballgown, with gorgeous strappy sandals, and I had gotten a fresh mani-pedi just a few hours earlier.

He cleared his throat. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a quick movement of his hand, as if he'd reached out to touch my shoulder but changed his mind. The elevator made another stop to pick up an adorable elderly couple, one with a walker. I stepped back to give them more room which put me shoulder to shoulder with the person I most loathed on the planet.

Oh, my lord, he smells just like he did in college. Not fair! My knees always grew weak at the smell of Stetson. And it didn't help any that he was even more gorgeous than he had been in college. I mentally slapped myself, fighting to focus on the evening ahead of me. After all, I had a speech to give. One I'd been rehearsing for days, and at the moment I couldn't remember a word of it.

The elderly couple exited the elevator a few floors above my destination. I took the opportunity to step forward. It was just us on the elevator again. I closed my eyes and started to run through my speech.

I heard him clear his throat. “Um, Darcy? Darcy Hollis? Is that you?” His voice was soft, that low timber made my resolve melt a bit.

I dropped me head a bit, took a deep breath, slapped on my best customer meeting face, and turned to face him. “Yes, that's me. I'm sorry, are you a client of Clovis Industries?”

“Um, no. Actually, I'm the new West Coast regional sales manager, not a customer. Darcy, it's me, Pete. Pete Dawson? We went to college together.”

I stifled a smirk. He sounded so wounded. I couldn't resist playing with his head a bit more, but the elevator doors opened, and my boss was on the other side, drink in hand, his pink cheeks proving this one wasn't his first, or fifth for that matter. Steeling myself for the inevitable grab, I exited the elevator trying to avoid his grasp. Bob was a bit of a letch when he had a few drinks in him.

“Darcy! We were wondering where you were! Hey, Petey boy, have you met Darcy? She's our newest rock star. She's the one who handled our latest product launch.” Bob slapped Pete's shoulder with his empty hand, before wrapping it around my waist and pulling me along.

Ugh! Just what I wanted for Christmas. A drunk, married boss trying to cop a feel. I fought the urge to look at Pete and mouth the words “help me” as I would have done during college. He'd bailed me out of several unwelcome clinches at drunken frat parties, I'd be damned if I'd be the damsel-in-distress at this one.

Bob hung on to me as he wove us drunkenly thru the crowd, introducing me and Pete to a variety of people, many of whom already knew me. A few of the women who knew about my history with Pete delicately raised a questioning eyebrow at me, signaling me to come back and chat as soon as I was free.

A microphone boomed at the front of the room, saving me from further embarrassment courtesy of Bob. The chairman of the board quickly called us to dinner, and in no time I was up front for my speech. Luckily my amazingly great assistant Lucy had placed a copy of my speech up at the podium for me. I managed to sail through my speech, thanking my entire team, while apparently flawlessly covering up any nervousness or overlooked pieces of my speech.

I sat at a table full of my product team members. I had insisted on being placed with my team, an unconventional choice for this particular company. The launch would not have gone as well without my team and I wanted to show my thanks.

“A toast. To my wonderful, amazing, hard-working, product launch team. Thank you all! Without you all this would never have gotten off of the ground. Cheers!” Glasses clinked, as congratulations went around the table. I smiled at my crew. I'd handpicked my team, taking many other manager's “rejects” that I could see had talent and drive. We'd really shown the old boys a thing or two and I was proud of all of us.

I clinked my glass with my knife and stood. “Due to the huge success of the product launch, I am pleased to announce that we are being kept together as the lead team for improvements to the line we just launched as well as any future products our brains may dream up.” The table cheered and high-fived each other. “Wait, there's more! I badgered management into giving the entire team a 5% raise, and, everyone gets from Christmas Eve Day through the day after New Year's off. Now, let's all go dance!”

As I watched my team celebrate, I knew that giving up my own raise to give them that extra time off was well worth it. They had definitely earned it, and the board seemed to respect my decision to give credit where it was due. I just hoped it wasn't a career killer.

The board's chairman, John Thomas, approached me. He was in his late 80's, but didn't appear it. Still at the top of his game mentally, he walked tall and briskly, smiling greetings at the few willing to approach him. I had learned quickly that his gruff exterior was all show for business, in life he had a kind and generous heart.

“Darcy my dear, I've been looking for you. I've been meaning to introduce to one of our new sales managers. He'll be taking on your product line and I need you to get him up to speed on the marketing campaign.” He waved at someone over the back of my head as I inwardly groaned. Sales managers were typically male, egotistical, and chauvinistic pigs.

“Mr. Thomas, so nice to see you.” My stomach lurched, it was that voice, of course it would have to be that voice, and that man. Pete came from behind me to greet John, and I swore I felt his hand brush my waist.

“Pete, I'd like to introduce you to Darcy Hollis, the newly promoted Director for our product line, Darcy, this is Pete Dawson, the new sales manager I was telling your about.” My eyes grew big as I doubted my hearing. My confused expression made John laugh. “You heard right Darcy, I just finalized the paperwork. I didn't think Jim or Bob would do the job as well you, and I'd like to suggest Beth as your replacement. I think it's high time we move more women up.”

Stunned, I could only stand there trying to absorb it all. I had given up that promotion to get my team their time off. Both Bob and Jim, one of John's grandsons had jumped at the chance. I heard that low rumbling voice start up again.

“Congratulations Darcy. It sounds like John chose the perfect director. I can't wait to start working with you on the marketing campaign. I'm sure I will learn a lot.” Pete smiled down at me, his hand resting lightly on my back “How about a turn on the dance floor to celebrate?”

John congratulated me again, assuring me I'd earned the promotion, as he waved us off to the dance floor. The next thing I knew I was back in those familiar arms, spinning slowly around the room. How the hell had I gotten here? It took me a moment to realize that Pete had asked me a question.

“What? I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. It's been a crazy night.” I looked up at the familiar green eyes. My traitorous skin was singing at his familiar touch. Old crushes apparently never die.

“I was just wondering if you remembered the last time we danced like this. Please don't tell me you don't remember me, you never were all that great at lying – at least not to me.” His voice was teasing me.

I'd really wanted to play with his ego a bit, but the night was already too confusing. Fine, I'd cave, but only a little. “All right. Yes. I do remember you. How could I not? You broke my heart when you broke up with me right before graduation. I almost didn't attend my own graduation because of you. I'd hoped to never see you again, and now here I am stuck dancing with you on what should be one of the greatest nights of my life. I just broke the glass ceiling at a century-old, male dominated company and my team has the most successful product launch in the company's history. And I'm stuck celebrating that news with you.”

He looked down at me, frowning a bit. “I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I was just hoping...I dunno what I was hoping for. Look, I'm sorry for being a stupid kid. I hope it won't get in the way of our working together.”

Angry now, I broke away from him. “What? Do you think I am so unprofessional that I would let something so trivial as schoolgirl crush get in the way of my career? Tell you what, here's my card, call me or email me with your schedule. I'd like to get started on the marketing campaign for the West Coast as quickly as possible.” I spun on my heel and headed for the elevator.

Lucy stepped in beside me. “Darcy, are you okay? I didn't realize that was 'the' Pete. Is there anything I can do?” She stopped me, grabbing my shoulders to make me look at her.

I gave her a hug. “No, I'll be alright. I'm a big girl. Besides, do Product Directors cry at parties?” I laughed at her surprised look.

“They promoted you? Even though you gave it up for us?” Lucy had been in on the discussions regarding the bonuses and time off for my team. She'd known I'd given up the promotion to get my team their well deserved perks and she'd kept the secret safe.

“Yes, John just told me. I will be asking for you to be promoted as well, with a big raise. We've got a ton of work ahead of us and I can't do it without you.” Lucy jumped with delight, giving me a big hug. “Go on, go grab your boyfriend and enjoy yourselves.” I shooed her off and continued on my way.

My night was looking up a bit. If I could just avoid Pete for the rest of the night. I delayed my march to the elevator to chat with friends and teammates, accepting congratulations as word spread of my promotion. I managed to corner Beth and ask her if she'd consider being my replacement. She accepted, but only after asking if I was sure the board would approve. Like me, she was keenly aware of the ol' boys culture in our company.

“Sooooo, you're our new Product Director.” The slurred words were followed by a bourbon-laced belch aimed at my face. Bob was back and drunker than ever. Then it dawned on me, Bob would now be my equal. It must have stung his ego a bit.

“Hi Bob. Yes, John just told me about the promotion.” My mind whirled trying to find the right words to cool Bob off and not wound his ego at the same time. “You know, I wouldn't have been able to do it without your guidance. I learned a lot from you. Thank you.” I tried to sidle away, but he wasn't assuaged just yet.

“You got that rriigghht littllle la-la-lady.” Another belch. “You o-owe meee. How's 'bout showin a little thanks with a kiss?” He leaned forward drunkenly, and I jumped backwards into a firm, yet familiar body. A big hand appeared in front of me, catching Bob's face before reeling him backwards.

That low voice rumbled over my head. “You okay Bob? Looks like you lost your balance a bit.” Bob had lucked out and been caught by a few of the larger men on my team. “Guys, would you be so kind as to help Bob to table and get him some coffee?”

I mouthed the word "thanks" to my guys. It was nice to know that my team always had my back. They nodded as they landed several heavy slaps on Bob's back and steered him towards the coffee pots. I didn't thank Pete before I headed back towards the elevator.

The door was already open so I stepped on quickly, only to be joined by Pete. I glared up at him. I didn't need saving, I could have handled it myself. I'm sure I could have gotten out of it gracefully, somehow. I fumed a bit, which only made him laugh.

“Still stubborn to a fault, eh Darcy?” At my glare he held his hands up. “Sorry, I know you could have handled it just fine on your own. I just thought I'd lend a hand before your enforcers got into trouble. What is it about you and drunken men anyway? I'd of thought you'd had your fill of that at our frat parties.” His smile was warm and a bit contagious.

“Yeah, like it's my fault men get drunk and hit on me. Why were you following me anyway?” I glared up at him. I hate the fact that he's nearly a foot taller than me and was thankful I was wearing tall heels.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back to your room safe and sound.”

“I don't need an escort.” I crossed my arms and fumed some more. Pete remained quiet.

The doors opened at my floor and I exited, expecting Pete to stay behind. No such luck. He stayed by my side, quiet all the way to my door.

I looked up at him. “I'm not inviting you in. You can go now.” I made a shooing motion with my room card.

Instead of leaving, Pete moved in closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and drawing me tightly in. Damn that Stetson cologne! He smelled so good, I started to melt a bit in his arms, though I refused to look at his face.

“Look, Darcy. I'm sorry. Back in college, you were going on and on about graduation and the job offers you were getting, and it was driving me crazy.” At the start of my protest he put his finger on my lips and shushed me. I hate being shushed.

“Let me finish, please. What you didn't know was that I learned late into the semester that my final project wouldn’t be accepted. I was being allowed to walk at the same time as you, but I wouldn't be graduated until after I resubmitted my senior project during summer semester. I wasn't getting any job offers and I was mad. At myself, the world, and you. You were just so on point with everything. You had your life all figured out and I couldn't even tell you I wasn't graduating.” Pete's head hung with shame.

“So, you broke up with me because you were going to graduate a semester later? Did you really think that would've mattered to me? Even after I told you I loved you?” It still hurt, even all these years later, that memory of his rejection when I declared my long-standing love for him would be with me forever.

Pete reached in his pocket, pulling out a small, wrapped box. “Here, I was going to give this to you at graduation. I've kept it all these years in hopes I'd see you again and be able to give it to you. What better time than Christmas, right? Christmas is a time for miracles and forgiveness isn't it?”

I took the box, unsure of what to do or say. All I could croak out was a pathetic “ummm?”.

Pete lightly kissed me on my forehead and turned to leave. “I just wanted you to know that I still love you.”

I stood in shocked silence for a moment, and then unwrapped the box. Inside was a small diamond ring with a white card that simply asked, “Will you marry me?” Son-of-a-bitch! Had to wait nearly a decade to grow a pair and he still didn't ask me himself? Pissed off and ridiculously happy I couldn't decide what to do. Finally I kicked off my heels and began running, with the box firmly in my hand.

“Pete! Pete! Wait up, you lousy coward! Come back here and act like a man for once in your life.” I raced around the corner to the elevator and slammed right into a firm chest with enough force to land us both on the floor. God I really hope it was Pete I knocked down and not some poor innocent man.

I both felt and heard the low rumbling laugh. Brushing my hair out of my face I could finally see that, in fact, I had knocked Pete off his feet. Score one for the short girl!

Sitting up a bit, I began my rant. “How dare you hand me something like this!” I shook the box in his face. “And not have the balls to ask me in person? You don't ask a woman to marry you with a note written years ago! First you ask for forgiveness and then you ask her to marry you. You dolt! What? Did you think I would've have said no back then? I'd been in love with you for years you moron. How could you not know that when everyone else did?”

Pete laughed, then roughly pulled me to him for a long kiss. I melted. All the years of anger washed away as the realization that the person I loved the most, and hated the most, had never really wanted me out of his life.

We broke for air and sat up a bit. Pete took my hand and looked into my eyes. “So, will your forgive me? And then will you marry me?” I laughed, and punched him on the arm.

“Well, it is Christmas, I guess I can throw you a bone. Sure, I guess I'll marry you.” I laughed as Pete pulled me onto his lap for a soft kiss.

Christmas is a time for miracles and forgiveness after all, and this one was turning out to a doozy!

It's been rough lately

This particular holiday season has been full of unhappy events.  First we lost our dear friend Cora to cancer, and due to a lack of communication from a variety of people, we missed her viewing and a chance to be there for her father on a rough day.

A week to the day, and almost exact time of day, our Maine Coon kitten died unexpectedly at home. He was not yet 2 years old. The analysis to this point is that he died of a heart attack as the vet didn't find anything else. Unfortunately for my dear hubby, it happened while he was home alone and caused him great distress.  Our big-fluffy-large pawed-chirpy-dooropener is already greatly missed.

Christmas was a bit more fun. I got to spend it with a dear friend and her family, along with two really cute, energetic kids. And my family actually called me. So I was thinking, silly me, that we might be looking at an upswing in our lives.  Nope. Another dear friend is having a tragic day tomorrow, having to put down his beloved old 18 year old cat. And another friend lost a beloved Aunt today.

This made me have a chat with God. She will occasionally answer me. Mostly she just shrugs things off and says to talk to Merie instead. She actually answered me this time around.  Her answer: "That's Life sweetie." Damn bitch! She truly has a warped sense of humor. Even Merie had to smile a bit when I ranted at her about her bitch of a boss lady.

The only good news out of this chat, was I got bit more of the Merie story done. Now I just need more time to work on my blog pages, and get a break from work-work on my vacation.

Memory Fail! due to Writing

It's definitely been one of those Mondays.  Long after posting the first iteration of this post, I realized I only got the last paragraph copied properly.  How did I miss that?!?  So let's see if I can get it put back to some semblance of what it was...and I doubt it'll be as good.

This weekend was a busy one.  It started with writing Saturday morning before the GRRWG monthly meeting, followed by picking up one of my favorite 16 year-olds on the planet, and returning home to a nice long nap.  Which was followed by more writing.

I was so busy I forgot to go download some really great writing books from Writer's Digest and now the deadline has passed.  The good news is I got a lot of progress done on Collie's book and more of the rewrite done on Jess' book.  Barring any barriers, I should hit both the ROAR and NaNoWriMo deadlines.

The good news is that next week I'm on vacation!  Yay!  First time in over a year and well deserved.  I'm not going anywhere.  Instead I'll be having lunch with friends I haven't seen in a long time, over multiple days, working on a vintage machine that needs some TLC before sending her on to her new home, where she's being purchased as decoration (which is good as I need to steal parts, and why I bought her), and writing!  Of course I'll be writing, I've got some self-imposed deadlines to meet.

The bad news is The Scot keeps interrupting to fill me on what I should write for him, but he requires a TON of research to get it right.  I need a timelines, correct dates, and re-education on both WWI and WWII.  And possibly the Cold War.  I'm hoping to task my hubby with some of that as he's a BIG military history buff.

Oh and I just submitted a 1-sentence competition for Writer's Digest - my first ever!

Farmer's Almanac

I needed to verify a weather pattern for a back story in a future Jess Barker book.  Of course my first thought when I think of weather is Farmer's Almanac not the Weather Channel.  I've got farmer genes in my blood, I think of the Almanac as my default reference book for pretty much anything and buy a new one every year.

To my delight I found on a very cool research tool on their website: a historical weather calendar.  It even includes snow depths for states with snowfall.  Pretty cool!

Just thought I'd pass this on for anyone that may be doing historical story lines that needs to verify weather data.

Who knew? I love research!

Did you know that Gimbels once had a sewing machine made for them?  I saw this poor, neglected vintage machine up for auction and laughed when I read them name.  Of course I was instantly whisked off to Christmas movies like Miracle on 34th Street, and A Christmas Story.  So I had to go digging.

There isn't much information out there, but I needed it for Stewart's storyline.  (Of course he kept smugly chiming in "I already knew this.")  I've discovered that in addition to Sears' Kenmore lines - Gimbels, Montgomery Wards, and even RH Macy's had sewing machines made for them from factories in Japan.  Models were pretty much interchangeable, but the name and color would change from time to time.

This practice also led to the wide variety of colors we see in the 40's/50's/60's machines.  Anything from light teal to bright red was fair game. I've found some bubble-gum pink machines that are amazing!  The more I learn about these vintage machines the more I miss the variety and style from back then.  Not only are they solid metal, but they're quite beautiful as well; especially when compared to today's plain, boring, white colored plastic machines.


I mean seriously, how can you NOT like a machine that looks like this?  (And I'm only a fan of pink for Breast Cancer ribbons).