For a change of pace, I thought I’d share one of those “life’s embarrassing moments” today.
I know I’ve mentioned that I print out hard copies of scenes as I finish them, because reading a printed page is different from reading on a computer screen. New and different things pop out. It’s also a way for me to get a jump start on the next day’s work as I make the changes I’ve noted on the hard copy read.
Normally, once I’ve marked up the pages and made my changes, I put them into my husband’s printer because it’s got 2 trays, and unless something is important, we’ll print the day to day stuff from the ‘recycle’ tray. Doing our part to keep green.
So, a few weeks ago, I was talking to our accountant. He mentioned enjoying one of the ‘scraps of paper’ I’d included in the paperwork I’d given him. I couldn’t remember giving him any scraps of paper, so I asked him what he meant. He clarified by saying I’d printed out a copy of one of the forms—I can’t remember the form number, but it was one of those forms where someone you’ve paid over $600 has to fill out, a form they emailed to me, and I printed out a copy for my records.
Today I welcome Duffy Brown to Terry’s Place. Duffy is the author of the Consignment: Murder series. She’s giving away two “Killer in Crinolines” totes***, so be sure to leave a comment. You have until Friday: winners announced over the weekend.
(***Cat not included***)
I’m a foodie. Guess that’s why I’m on a forever diet. Didn’t say I kept it, just that I was on it.
I live in Cincinnati, where North meets South…or North is separated from South, depending on your point of view. If it’s fireworks over the Ohio River or rooting for the Cincinnati Reds, we meet. If it’s food…not so much. For example, in Cincy we get iced tea. If we cross the Ohio River, a whopping one-minute drive away, we get sweet tea. You can’t get sweet tea in Cincy. Ask for it at a restaurant and they hand you a packet of sugar.
In Cincy we grill. Over there, they have a cookout. Cincy does steaks and brats and this stuff called goetta (we’re just a little bit German, you see.) On the other side it’s barbecued pork that’s shredded, diced, sliced or pulled.
My mother used Crisco back-in-the-day; my husband’s mother had pan drippings on her stove. I ate pasta and Dave had grits. My vegetables were green beans and zucchini, Dave had fried green tomatoes, corn pudding and mint Julep (hey, that’s green, right).
I’m over at The Blood-Red Pencil again, this time talking about critique partners and beta readers. Hope you’ll pop over and say hello. I was going to write a separate post for Terry’s Place, but I’ll be honest with you. I’ve been busy with the release of Rooted in Danger, and doing double blog posts didn’t fit my schedule. I’ll be back with another ‘writing’ post on Monday.
But as long as you’re reading this, I’ll remind my newsletter subscribers that if they haven’t entered the contest yet (link is found only in the newsletter), it’s going to be ending on the 30th.
If you’re not checking the Booklover’s Bench site, you’re also missing out on chances to win books. (link in tab in the nav bar)
And, lastly, Rooted in Danger will be a Nook First selection starting on Saturday. But since the program isn’t exclusive any more, you can get the e-book at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Kobo, and Smashwords. Buy links here.
What I’m reading: Contest entry #4/5.
Sharing my happy news. Rooted in Danger, Book 3 in my Blackthorne, Inc. romantic suspense series is a finalist in the Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence contest. Perfect timing, as I’m getting ready to start the upload process as the digital rights are now under my control.
Today is one of my days at The Blood-Red Pencil. I’m talking about differences and similarities between writers and sculptors. Hope you’ll stop by.
It’s also the last day to enter the April Giveaway at Booklover’s Bench.
And I’m still looking for more “Likes” for my Facebook Page so I can give away a bunch of books.
Today, I welcome Stephen L. Brayton to Terry’s Place. Stephen hails from Oskaloosa, Iowa, where he owns and operates Brayton’s Black Belt Academy, a school under the parentage of the American Taekwondo Association. Stephen is a 5th Degree Black Belt. Today, he discusses the similarity between discipline in exercising and writing.
Never one for football or basketball in high school, I did go out for one year of track as a freshman. I usually came in last, so I didn’t bother the next year. Years later, I took advantage of two weeks’ free class at the local taekwondo club. After the two weeks, I stayed with it and have enjoyed the sport for over twenty years. I’ve achieved many goals in those years but one goal I really wanted was to be physically fit.
My stature was small in school and I filled out after college. I’ve tried several times to get into shape. A New Year’s resolution many years ago had me running in the middle of winter and exhausted after only two hundred yards. Since, I’ve gone many rounds of this and that routine. Last April, I asked my taekwondo instructor what exercise program he thought best. I had seen a variety of exercise info-mericals on television and though at least of the programs looked a little extreme, I really wanted to get serious about reestablishing a workout routine to stay healthy.
He suggested a free program developed by one of my organization’s high ranks. It can be found at www.warriorxfit.com. Using the belt colors in my style of taekwondo for goals, you spend only twenty minutes on six exercises. You log the results and progress up in ‘rank’. The only equipment needed is a resistance tube. I’ve found it enjoyable and although I may not be the next Mr. Universe, I’ve lost weight and built muscle and stamina.
What I’m reading: Pets in a Pickle, by Malcolm D. Welshman (Nook); Suicide Season, by Rex Burns
Last week, I submitted a chapter of my current manuscript to my crit partners, and one of them responded that she had trouble with a reference, even though I thought it was in context.
Here’s the setup. Jinx, who’s an intel gatherer for Blackthorne, Inc. and has no experience in the field, finds himself in the jungles of Mexico, escaping from the cartels. Since it’s romantic suspense, of course there’s a woman involved. They’ve met. They’ve hooked up with the Blackthorne team but due to circumstances of the plot, are going to have to do some investigating on their own. At this point in the book, there’s an attraction between Jinx and Elle, the woman, but other than a kiss, it’s all sexual tension. There’s no place for the helicopter to land, so they’re going to have to be lowered to the ground, strapped together in a harness.
The descent was in Elle’s POV, but now that they’re on the ground, Jinx is dealing with the rigors of being in the field, and is trying to concentrate on the positive, which in a romantic suspense, means he’s going to think about the heroine.
Here’s the paragraph that gave my crit partner (among others) trouble.
To keep his mind off his exhaustion, he allowed his thoughts to stray to Elle, whose footfalls behind him were surprisingly comforting. How she’d felt. pressed against him on the E-ticket ride from helo to jungle floor.
Today’s the last day to enter to win a Nook Simple Touch and 5 books to fill it with. Click the Booklover’s Bench tab in the nav bar.
I’m repeating a blog I ran last year on Valentine’s Day. It still brings tears to my eyes.
Today is Valentine’s Day, and while the media bombards us with ways to spend money to prove our love, I think most of us would rather have it spread out over time, and not be a budget breaker. I’ve spoken many times about why a Swiss Army Knife was one of the most romantic gifts I’ve ever received. And why I wasn’t “offended” at the electronic tire pressure gauge I got one year. The first showed that Hubster had actually listened to me, and I wasn’t even talking to him at the time. The second showed that he’s concerned for my safety. (And as proof, I think he used it a LOT more than I did to make sure my tires were okay.)
When I was at the Emerald City conference, Sarah Wendell (more widely known for her “Smart Bitches” blog) gave everyone a copy of her book, “Everything I Know About Love I Learned from Romance Novels.” One section struck a deep chord, and I’m reprinting it with her permission.
“As an article in the Boston Globe in October 2009 by oncologist Robin Schoenthaler stated, the ideal man is not the one with the biggest bank account or the extreme sports habit, but is the man who will hold your purse in the cancer clinic:”
Dr. Schoenthaler wrote:
I became acquainted with what I’ve come to call great ‘purse partners’ at a cancer clinic in Waltham. Everyday these husbands drove their wives in for their radiation treatments, and every day these couples sat side by side in the waiting room, without much fuss and without much chitchat. Each wife, when her name was called, would stand, take a breath, and hand her purse over to her husband. Then she’d disappear into the recesses of the radiation room, leaving behind a stony-faced man holding what was typically a white vinyl pocketbook. On his lap. The guy—usually retired from the trades, a grandfather a dozen times over, a Sox fan since date of conception—sat there silently with that purse. He didn’t read, he didn’t talk, he just sat there with the knowledge that twenty feet away technologists were preparing to program an unimaginably complicated X-ray machine and aim it at the mother of his kids. I’d walk by and catch him staring into space, holding hard onto the pocketbook, his big gnarled knuckles clamped around the clasp, and think, “What a prince.”
Have a happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. May you find your own prince.
What I’m reading: Contest entry #5/5; Mad River, by John Sandford (library)
Since I posted yesterday, I’m taking the day off (more or less). Okay, I’m not really fishing–all our “lakes” are frozen, and I’m not into ice fishing. And I’m not even lazing around. I’m still discussing Indie Publishing at Coffeetime Romance. I’m working on my workshop for The 12 Steps to Intimacy at Savvy Authors. And if you haven’t read yesterday’s post, scroll down. There’s a lot there, with lots of chances to win prizes). And the Blog Hop is still going on (link in the sidebar).
Tomorrow, my guest is Bev Irwin, who’s sharing a very special day. There’s a giveaway, so be sure to check back.
Today I welcome Mona Karel to Terry’s Place. Mona’s going to take us on a stroll down memory lane, in more ways than one.
Hi Terry, thanks so much for the invite. I worked for a dog trainer in Georgia who liked to sing along to the radio, even if he didn’t quite understand the lyrics. He wondered why a song with the refrain “They eat hogs in Alabama” was so popular. Maybe because it was “Sweet Home Alabama?” There’s actually a name for this sort of confusion: ‘mondegren.’ Seems like a fancy word for misunderstood song lyrics.
My late husband was a wild fan of easy listening. His tape collection (8-track and cassette, hey, not all of us are spring chickies) was huge. The day he gave me a hand made friendship ring in lieu of an engagement ring, this great song by England Dan and John Fogelby played in the background. The refrain went:
I’m not talking ’bout millennium,
And I don’t want to change your mind.
But there’s a warm wind blowing the stars around,
And I’d really love to see you tonight.
This became “our” song and I’d belt it out on a regular basis. Wonderful emotions in these lyrics “…not talking about forever…not sure why I called, I guess I really just wanted to talk to you…I really do miss your smile.” I won’t point out we don’t hear many songs like this any more.
Today I welcome Michelle Monkou to Terry’s Place. Michelle Monkou writes contemporary romances with a sexy, sensual edge. With over 16 books to her credit, she continues to write for Harlequin Kimani Romance and self-publishes on Kindle and Nook. (There’s a giveaway, so keep reading!)
Each day, especially birthdays, highlight the reality that I am getting older. Hearing my joints pop and crack are also those pesky reminders that time marches on. And yet, the child inside is still there ready to be amazed and ready to enjoy life in full abandon.
Remember these admonitions: “Act your age!” “Be mature!” “Grow up!”
I’ve done all those things and there’s still a part of me that says, “Noooo, I don’t wanna.”
As a child, I loved to read. One of my favorite child authors, Enid Blyton, captured my imagination, molded it, so that when I finally escaped (well, not completely), she had created a monster bookaholic and the stirrings to create my own stories.
Blyton stories were controversial because she used sexist and racist characters and references in her stories. But, I can’t diminish what she’s brought to my life with stories of adventure, mystery, and youthful friendship with series like the Famous Five; The Secret Seven or the fun life at boarding school with The Malory Tower series. She wrote about 800 books over 40 years and the works have been translated in over 90 languages. When I think about my inner child, I think about Enid’s influence.