Friendships

I didn't know if I could post today. Karen had planned to do today's entry for me. I wasn't able to post last Monday and I shared with my Cozy Chicks what was going on and now I feel I can share it with our readers because I have posted about my dear friend Hillarie prior to this post.

For those of you did not read that previous post, Hillarie has been a very close friend of mine for the past several years. Hillarie fought a battle against breast cancer for the past four years and sadly we lost her on Saturday night. I was with her along with five other friends and my husband. Her passing was peaceful as we said The Lord's Prayer, The prayer of St. Francis and sang songs to her that she loved. She was a beautiful friend and person who fought this disease until the end. I know it was hard for her to leave as it was only the last few hours of her life that she could not speak to us, but only squeeze my finger to communicate. She did let me know in the last few hours that she was ready to go home. She kept her wonderful sense of humor until the very end, throughout the week wanting us to take her shopping. Hill was a shopoholic. And, I got a smile from her in the last couple of hours when I told her that she would get to shop to her heart's content and there would be every designer outfit available and all the men would look like Matthew Mcouneghy (she loved him) and serve her only the finest wine. We drank a lot of great wine over the years together. I will miss that and I will miss her humor and she had this way of nicely telling you if you were being ridiculous about something. As a writer, or maybe it's just me, but I tend to have a bit of paranoia about whether people like me. i am a people pleaser and she would always let me know in her way that I needed to mellow out on making people happy. That sometimes people are just being people and it isn't about me. She was right.

I have gained so much from being with her during this time and while she passed. I learned a lot about women and our friendships. WE NEED them. This whole thing about Oprah and Gale being gay makes me laugh. PLEASE! Unless you are a woman, and I have a feeling everyone who reads our blog is a woman (sorry if you're a guy), you can never full understand the scope of women's friendships. I tried to explain it to my husband who looked at me like I'm loopy (which I probably am). As women friends we confide in each other, we laugh over things that only we get. We take care of each other because it is intuitive and our conditioning. It's one of the things that I think women do best, and we are always there for one another. ALWAYS! I watched as Hillarie's group of friends rallied around her and came together to take care of her and love her through this and the experience, which was overwhelming, loving and painful at the same time. But we were all there for her and each other, and I think that's why i am sharing this with all of you. Because of our bond as women, I know that you are supporting and will understand this post. I know that you will get that this is real life stuff and how vital it is to put it out there (at least for me). Sometimes we are humorous, instructive, silly, and like now we deal with pain. But out of all this pain, I have come to realize that as much as I did not want to let go of my friend, I gained something in my life with a group of women that I never would have. I have recieved a gift from a bright soul who i know is still here with us. I felt her this morning when a song we both really liked and just listened to last week together came on the radio. Our other friend Aimee felt it when she spotted a butterfly yesterday afternoon just after having a conversation with Hillarie last week about how much she loved butterflies. I know I am kind of rambling here because these thoughts are kind of pouring out, but again, I have this feeling you all will understand and I really wanted to share with you the idea of friendship and my dear friend's life and experience. So, if you haven't reached out to a friend lately because life is busy and crazy, please do so. Call her, go have lunch with her, shop with her, see the Devil Wears Prada with her, take a mini vacation, or hell, if you can afford it go for ten days to Tahiti with her to a five star spa, of you can or do what Hill and I would have done together--have a glass of wine together and look at magazines. Just be together, because your friends get you and you get them.

WWSACD

By Heather

WWSACD

An acronym this chick shops by.

It stands for What Would Stacy and Clinton Do?

Stacy being Stacy London and Clinton being Clinton Kelly from TLC’s hit show What Not To Wear.

Love. This. Show.

Its premise is fairly simple. Family and friends nominate you for a makeover. Stacy and Clinton show up in your hometown, surprise you with a $5,000 Visa card to go shopping in New York City with them. The catch? You have to give yourself over to them “mind, body, and wardrobe.”

Once in NY, Stacy and Clinton stuff force you to watch secret footage of your fashion faux pas, then stuff you into a 360° mirror so you can see such faux pas for yourself. Once they trash all your hideous clothes (whether they be too frumpy, too tight, or from eras long best forgotten), they then give you a set of fashion rules to follow and send you out to shop on your own for a day.

I’ve rarely seen a day one shopping trip where participants actually follow all the fashion rules. By this point, most are rebelling against all the constructive criticism and are in deep denial about how bad they really looked, though they saw it for themselves in the 360.

On day two, Stacy and Clinton usually sneak around a large department store and jump out at the unsuspecting (though really, if they’d seen the show AT ALL they should know this is coming) participant—as if they’re not under enough stress. From there, they all shop together. Usually by the end of day two, almost all the people on the show have changed their evil fashion ways.

Armed with bags of new clothes, the participant is then ready for hair and makeup. Hair is done by Aussie Nick Arrojo, and let me tell you. If I had oodles of money I’d be flying to NYC to have Nick cut my hair. The man is genius with scissors, and who doesn’t love an Aussie accent? I’ve maybe seen two haircuts I didn’t like since the show hit the air. Once the participant parts with their hair (sometimes there’s tears), they’re off to see Carmindy, the makeup expert. I can’t say I love her personality, but the woman knows what she’s doing.

Once all the components of the show are put together, participants give Stacy and Clinton a little fashion show, where they now preen in front of the mirror. Then they’re sent home to shocked family and friends who all coo that so-and-so now looks fabulous.

So, why do I love this show? Well, many reasons, really. It’s entertaining, it’s fun, and Stacy and Clinton make a great team playing off each other well. Their faces at seeing, oh, snakeskin, skintight, polyester pants with holes here and there are just priceless.

Really, I love the tips I get from watching. I’ve learned people my size (5’2” –a number I will debate to my last breath) should never wear pants with cuffs because it makes us look, gasp, even shorter. Ditto goes with skirts that fall below the knee. I’ve learned all sorts of tailoring tips, jeans tips, shoe tips, and that a good bra—in the right size—will change your life. When I’m shopping now, I really look at a garment and ask myself WWSACD? Amazingly, it helps. This isn’t to say I haven’t bought some bad choices, but I’m getting better!

And Carmindy’s makeup tips have helped as well. Everything from how filling in an eyebrow will do wonders to highlighting eyes for an instant facelift (white shadow/cream under brow and in tear duct). She teaches men proper skin care, how to take care of those out-of-control eyebrows, and how to shave properly.

What do I love the absolute most about the show? I love how Stacy and Clinton really reinforce that hiding behind your clothes is no way live life. I love how the show helps people to see that they’re beautiful no matter what their size, a realization most eventually come to. What can I say—it’s heartwarming. And as most of you know, I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

~heather (who happens to be sitting here in a very frumpy robe—good thing Stacy and Clinton aren’t watching!)

Thank you sir (or ma'am). May I have another?

Ah, reviews.

Fortunately, by the time we get there, we've almost all had the dubious honor of having our work rejected by critique groups, editors, Aunt Tillie who just happened to find your manuscript lying around and felt the need to tell you all the things you did wrong...

You get the picture.

I do think you have to have a certain level of masochism to be a writer. I mean, we just keep getting up, getting knocked down, and getting back up again, don't we? But you know what? I think I'm going to go ahead and call that courage and determination.

I am a relative newbie to this business -- it was only three years ago that I decided that I was going to write a book. Which is a scary thing to do -- I mean, why not go and climb Everest or something? That way, when you tell someone at a cocktail party you did it, they might actually want to hear more, rather than feeling a sudden need to see if that's their cell phone ringing in the purse they left three rooms away from you...

Besides, when you tell people you climbed Everest, the response isn't usually "Are you published?"

Which is, to say the least, an annoying question. Because even if you are published, odds are a thousand to one they've never heard of you. Unless you're Dan Brown, of course.

Anyway, I'll tell you a secret. Three years ago, I was so petrified of putting myself out there that I couldn't bring myself to send a query letter to the local paper for a gardening article. A gardening article!

I know what you're asking yourself. If you couldn't write a one-page query for a gardening article, how the heck did you get up the gumption to go ahead and write a book?

I think the answer is that I'd always wanted to do it. Which I can't really say for the gardening article.

The first thing I did was to find other similarly neurotic souls. So I started a critique group of burgeoning mystery authors. (If burgeoning is the word I want.) Writing and getting together with other neophyte writers can be a huge help -- that way, you get see everyone else's flaws and insecurities, rather than comparing our fledgling work to books by people like, say, Janet Evanovich or Vladimir Nabokov. Besides, who else is going to want to hear about the annoying agent who said your hook was good but your writing sucked? Or the other one, who loved your writing but didn't like the hook at all? (Can you say SUBJECTIVE?)

The group worked like a charm. I got motivated -- and wrote the book in five months. Then, once I had the darned thing done, I had to start sending it out. (I think writing your first query and synopsis is almost more work than writing the book, by the way.) Which meant getting rejection letters.

Which sucked.

But as I reminded someone the other day, rejections -- like bad reviews -- generally aren't laced with anthrax. So they're not REALLY fatal -- they just feel like they are.

And what did I do while I was waiting for my rejections? I started working on the sequel to my first book. And wondering WHY I was working on the sequel to a book that obviously was never going to sell?

So after about 10 depressing chapters (the writing was depressing, not the chapters), I decided to put the sequel in a file to be finished later if necessary... and to start something new. Completely new!

Which was the best idea I ever had. Because I got so excited about the new project that I stopped focusing on the first book. And even when the rejections came, I was disappointed -- but couldn't help thinking, "Wait until they see this new book -- it's so much better!"

As it turned out, the first book sold. The new book, on the other hand, didn't sell, nor did the proposal after it -- but the rejections were glowing. Glowing, I tell you. And the proposal I did after THOSE two sold almost instantly. So it wasn't all for naught -- you learn as you go, you know?

So far, with a couple of anomalies (I'll call them anomalies), my reviews have been good. And I'm sure I'll get some more zingers, and I'm sure I'll be less than delighted when that happens. But I plan to be so busy working on my NEXT project when I get those reviews that the sting is just that -- a little irritation that will fade in a couple of days.

Speaking of writing, it's time for me to go and write for the day. And I invite you to put on your body armor, sit down at the computer, and join the rest of us masochists.

See you next week!

Reviewers and Other Strangers

One of the pains and pleasures of becoming a published writer is reading your own reviews. As someone recently pointed out to me (possibly my husband, a long-suffering reviewer for such pubs as Mystery Scene, January, etc.) all reviewers are not created equal and it is not necessary or advisable to take all reviews to heart. In this we are united in harmonious thought as we can never be united on such issues as leaving one's dirty socks in the living room or not rinsing dishes after a meal.

But, united or not, relegating stupid reviews to the trash dumpster of one's brain is still easier said than done. I'm one of those writers who does read her reviews.I enjoy a smart, well-written review. And if it's about my book, well, who doesn't appreciate the time and thought spent on helping match the right reader to the right book?

That said, I do realize that most readers are more interested in the plot synopsis portion of the review than the amount of teacups, roses or stars the reviewer awards. I am, anyway. I also know that all books are not for all readers and that even a "bad" review is better than no review.

See how sane and reasonable I am?

One thing you must never do as a writer is whine about your reviews. it's undignified and it merely serves to bring more attention to the review. You have to be able to deal gracefully with the inalienable right of SOME DOLT TO EXPRESS HIS OR HER ILL-INFORMED OPINION IN PUBLIC.

Ahem.

Sorry.

What you must learn to do--assuming you choose to read your reviews at all (and, like I said, some of them are lovely and insightful and teach you stuff about your book that you didn't even know) is watch for the consensus of opinion. If a number of reviewers have problems with the same plot points or characters or pacing, well, that could be worth paying attention to.

Or not.

What you can't do is believe every opinion that blows your way--especially if the reviewer has an agenda. Like...your mom. Or the reviews you write yourself on Amazon. (Come on, I've SEEN YOU!!!) Or the weirdly vindictive stranger reviewer who, for whatever reason, hates you from that first peek at your so-cute author photo.

Hey, it happens. Not everyone is going to love you and your little book, too. Next time, don't cut in front of me in the dessert line at Malice.

I'M KIDDING!!!! I don't trash people in reviews. I outgrew that a looooong time ago. Which is not to say that I won't ever speak a harsh word, but just that I try to balance it with a kind one. There are very few books that you can't find anything positive to say about. And a reviewer who won't try to balance negatives with a positive...there's something going on there. And you don't have to be Nancy Drew to spot it.

So, just to put my own recent nasty review into perspective, and to give you all an insiders peek at how totally contradictory and subjective the review process can be, I'm going to share two reviews of SONNET OF THE SPHINX, the third book in the Poetic Death series.

We have Reviewer A, who I will, just for the purposes of this blog, call Yvette Banek, who let's say writes (beautifully) for MYSTERY INK.

And we have Reviewer B, who I will, just for the purposes of this blog, call...whoops! No, I can't call her that. We have a G-Rating. Let me call her...Miss Chiponshoulder. Sounds French, doesn't it? But, quel dommage, she's not elegant or witty, mais non!

(Oh my God. I sound like a peevish Hercule Poirot.)

Anyhooooooo. Mademoiselle C. writes for another ezine, but I like them so we won't make an issue of that.

Here's everything you need to know about Miss C.'s reviews. She wrote this in another review:

"At least she did not commit the (for me) unforgiveable linguistic crime of using 'off of', always a sure fire way of alienating me from an author."

Now, tell me that isn't funny? Like that's what it's about? A book is merely pages of properly constructed sentences?

UNFORGIVEABLE LINGUISTIC CRIME.

Seriously.

Okay, remember: same book, different reviewers, one good, one evil. (I'M KIDDING!!! And I was TOTALLY kidding about trying to poison her at Bouchercon!!!):

Smart, sensitive, Yvette writes:
"The spectacularly beautiful and genteel Lake District of England, the center of the 19th-century literary Romantic Movement, home not only to Wordsworth's daffodil cottage, but Beatrix Potter's "Peter Rabbit" farmstead, is the unexpected setting for Diana Killian's delightful mystery, Sonnet Of The Sphinx. In fact, a less likely place for murderers to lurk is hard to imagine. So part of the fun of this three book series by Diana Killian is to be found in this odd juxtaposition."

Miss C. writes:
"Given the setting for the piece, I was disappointed that the author failed to make the most of it, certainly not evoking, to my mind, at least, the wonder and majesty of the area. At one stage I was somewhat put about when she describes a pair of hummingbirds playing in the garden. Oh well, perhaps someone had an import licence!'

Ouch! She got me. Hummingbirds are only found in the New World and I did goof with that last-minute substituion for too many butterflies. Yep, Miss C. knows more about Lake District flora and fauna than me.




But Yvette is still the better writer, no?

The delightful and insightful Yvette writes:
"Another part of the fun has to be the two engaging main characters: One is the very inquisitive American literary scholar and Anglophile, Grace Hollister, currently on sabbatical from her teaching duties in California, and the other is the very attractive ex-jewel thief/current antiques dealer and possible boyfriend Peter Fox who flits in and out of the plots usually trying to avoid bad reminders from his shady past. The truth is that the beautiful (and fictional) village of Innisdale, England hasn't been quite the same since Grace Hollister came to town."

Miss C writes:
"My initial thought on beginning to read this book was that it was directed at young, very young, adults. The writing appeared light and simplistic and the plot relatively fragile. The baddies are full of comic book exaggeration and the protagonist fails to gain my sympathy....There was an attempt at a steamy love scene but, again to my mind, it failed to convince or evince the slightest hint of titillation."

Hey, now she's making me mad. First of all, she's insulting the intelligence of my readers (very few of whom are young adults or simple-minded--and I even love those guys) and I did not attempt to write a steamy love scene! Please! My mom reads these books!

It's okay, I'M okay. My new best friend Yvette leaps to my defense:
"Where Killian takes these two may not be all that surprising but it is the style and wit with which she does so, that intrigues the reader and makes this series rise miles above the average "cozy"...Author Diana Killian seems well aware of the limitations of this sleepy genre, but goes full speed ahead anyway, enlivening things with her own brand of electricity. Armed only with talent, an obvious affection for her characters, and a very strong story-telling gene, she has fashioned another entertaining mystery in her "Poetic Death" series which will definitely keep you up reading late into the spooky night."

The lady with the ugly shoes writes:
"The heroine certainly has to survive harrowing attempts on her life and there is a car chase obviously intended to terrify. The villain of the piece is not terribly well disguised but perhaps some readers (the very young at whom I thought the book directed?) may think differently."

Okay, so if you didn't guess the killer in my book, according to Reviewer B (who doesn't mind a gigantic spoiler or two in a review), YOU'RE STUPID.

HEY, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES, FOLKS!!! YOU'RE THE ONES WHO COULDN'T FIGURE OUT THE NOSE ON YOUR FACE.

Miss C. finishes up with a real bang:
"SONNET OF THE SPHINX is number three in Diana Killian's Poetic Death series, following on from HIGH RHYMES AND MISDEMEANOURS and VERSE OF THE VAMPYRE."

Look at the research, look at the experience and knowledge!

The fabulous, brilliant--and good writer--Yvette writes:
"I do suggest, if you haven't already, that you get your hands on Killian's debut novel, the delightful romp High Rhymes and Misdemeanors, and follow it closely with the equally delightful Verse of the Vampyre, before settling in with Sonnet of the Sphinx, Grace and Peter's latest misadventure."

Oh, and she concludes with a quote by Shelley. This is why we love her.

Now, LUCKILY, being the model of restraint and mental health that I am, Miss C's review did not disturb me one jot. No, really. This was just an academic exercise and not my desire for public therapy. And do NOT feel, by any means, that you need to comment on this post by saying nice and reassuring things to me because I am not bothered one tiny teeeeeeny bit by that totally insulting and unbalanced review. Not. A. Jot.

I simply remind myself that if I quit reading reviews, I would have missed Yvette's.

Escape to the Mountains

Sorry this post is late in the day, but I just returned from a glorious trip into the Colorado High Country. A friend has a house in Frisco (near Vail and Breckenridge) and asked me last week if I'd like to come up for a long weekend. Would I like to? Does a bear sleep in the woods? Heck, yes, I replied, groveling at her feet.

We drove off from Fort Collins (hour north of Denver) at 6pm Friday and returned this afternoon, Tuesday, July 25. Four wonderful days in our gorgeous Colorado Rockies. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Relaxing in that cool mountain air, surrounded by the mountains, visiting pretty little mountain towns, just generally kicking-back and doing what we pleased. Boy-----did I need that break. We'd been having a heat wave in Fort Collins, too, which made it especially appreciated.

This little escape brought home again how important it is for us as creative people, as writers, to recharge, refresh, and renew. However we choose to do it. We need "RRR" regularly, I think. No matter how much we love our work of creating characters and story and arranging signings and book events and meeting readers----we need to "refill the well." That's what I called it when I escaped to Ireland on May 31st, right after delivering knitting mystery #4 to my editor.

As my writing life has gotten busier, I realize that I need to schedule regular little breaks to recharge---even if it's an afternoon trip up into the mountain canyons outside town. Walk in the woods. Sit on a rock and stare at the river as it rushes over rocks and branches.

A dream would be to have a mountain home myself, one of these days. Then I could "escape" whenever I felt like it. It's a dream for now. Until then, I'll keep scheduling my little escapes. I suggest all of you take a look at your busy schedules and see if there's some time that you could afford for yourselves. If so, grab it and run.

Take care, everyone, and continue to enjoy the summer.

Comedy of Injuries

By Heather

As you read this, I’ll be on the road, headed home after a week spent in Vermont, where hopefully (thanks to my preparation on the treadmill) I’ll only have huffed and puffed a little while hiking various Vermont mountains.

We, my husband and I, have been making this trip every year for the past four years—it’s become an annual vacation, a must-do. But as I get ready to leave I can’t help but remember last year’s trip.

All had been going quite well until the last night of the vacation when, as I was getting out of the shower, I somehow—the details are still fuzzy—broke my toe.

The middle toe, left foot.

A year later, I’m still trying to figure out how I managed to do it.

I didn’t trip. I didn’t fall. I was simply lifting my leg over the edge of the tub, when whammo, my foot slammed down on the ledge, and my little piggy who ate roast beef didn’t take kindly to it.


Okay, the side of the tub was higher than I was used to. And my legs were incredibly tired (re: leaden) after hiking up and down Mt. Mansfield, seven hours round trip.

But still.

Who breaks a toe simply lifting their foot out of a tub?

Comical, right? Well, I can certainly laugh at it now. But I have to think I’m not the only one out there with this kind of story. Anyone else want to share their silly injury story? Laughter, after all, is the best medicine…and I’m quite sure I’ll be sore when I get back, despite the treadmill. Hopefully, all my toes will be okay, though! I'll let you know.

~heather

P.S. The picture is of me near the top of Mt. Mansfield, before the Broken Toe of 2005 incident.

A Thousand Words A Day

A thousand words a day. That's my mantra. (Just don't ask me how well I've listened to myself the last few weeks. :))

It's funny; I was reading Diana's post about 'flirting' with a book. The truth is, I'm always hesitant to even commit a word to paper (or computer screen) unless I'm willing to take the plunge. I can think about it all I want, but somehow putting pen to paper is the literary equivalent of taking a vow of sorts for me.

Of course, now that I do proposals sometimes, I'm more of a serial monogamist...

Anyway, my process is to come up with a character and a scenario, and then start spinning out storylines. When I'm sure I'm ready to commit, I write a 'book map' for myself -- so that on some level I know I have enough story to make it from page 1 to page 300 (or whatever). Then I start to write -- theoretically 1000 words a day, 5 days a week (with breaks for life issues, vacations, pneumonia, etc.) until the book is done. I haven't yet two-timed a book -- done two at once -- although I have edited one while writing another. That may change, though... with the kids in school longer, I might be able to squeeze in two writing sessions a day! We'll see how that pans out...

And as for the book map? I diverge from it quite quickly, usually, referring back to it from time to time as I need ideas -- or to be reminded of my original intent. (Two of my characters started dating recently -- I came home and told my husband it was either going to be brilliant or a total disaster.)

My first book, Murder on the Rocks, was probably the most 'outlined' book I've written (I've actually written 3 books and several partials now)... and the werewolf book I'm working on now is growing organically. We'll call it organically, anyway. But new and exciting things keep cropping up -- and to be honest, the manuscript is much more exciting than my original outline.

Carole Nelson Douglas told me once that writing a book is like whitewater rafting. You toss the raft in and let the river -- or the book -- take you rolling downstream until it's time to get out. And it is like that. (She said short stories are more like a Japanese garden -- very precise and contained. Orderly.)

I don't know about that, but I'm lazing around in a calm area right now. Need to paddle toward some more rapids... and start churning out that 1K a day.

Happy writing, everyone... see you on the water soon!

Excuses, Excuses!

I was thinking about Maggie and Michele and their excellent advice. I was thinking about "pre-writing."

This is a great "ice breaker," and I highly recommend it--few things are more intimidating than a pristine blank page. Especially if the page isn't blank--if, for example, it has your tidy and professional looking header and a snappy title followed by...gulp...your name.

Or even your pen name.

So it's helpful to sort of psych yourself up (or out) by just letting go and...writing. Maybe you'll keep some of it, maybe you won't. At this stage you're jotting down notes, sketches, random thoughts. It's similar to giving yourself permission to write that lousy first draft. Basically you're getting into the rhythm of writing. You're free to make mistakes because this isn't the real thing, anyway. Maybe.

What you have to watch out for, though, is letting the--er--flirtation linger too long. Sooner or later you must commit. Sooner or later you must let go of the side of the pool and swim. Or have crazy underwater sex. (For those of you sticklers about not confusing metaphors.)

Where was I? (Shaking wet hair out of eyes). Oh. Right. Commitment.

You see, I've talked to a lot of aspiring (and perspiring) writers, men and women so dedicated to their craft that they've been working on their book for twenty years.

TWENTY YEARS?

Either you're taking very long lunch breaks or you're coming up with excuses for not working on that manuscript. I mean, twenty years--two different people will have written that book. I'm not who I was at twenty (frankly, that chick would be lucky to still be alive) and the book I write today would not be the book I wrote back then.

There are good reasons for not making your Great American Novel the #1 priority in your life. Real life has a rude way of butting into one's writing time. I went a full decade without writing. I'd decided to be a folk singer. Ahem. Long story. Er--no pun intended.

If you are serious--passionate--about writing, then at some point writing does have to take priority--maybe not over everything, but it certainly has to come before something.

Then you have to struggle against your own insecurities. Are you good enough? Are you just wasting your time? And the easiest way of avoiding finding out the answer to those questions is...the false start. The enjoyable preliminaries--the courting dance, if you will (don't worry, I won't talk about swimming pools anymore). Character bios and scrapbooking and notecards and diagrams--these are terrific and useful tools, but eventually you're going to have to start writing.

Same with the rough draft that is in a permanent state of polish and revision. Sooner or later, you must accept that it is time to send your little masterpiece out into the world to face the slings and arrows of insolent and insensitive professionals everywhere.

And let's not forget my personal favorite means of stalling the actual writing: RESEARCH. I love research, and research is necessary--necessary and fascinating. I've been known to lose myself for weeks in research--a fraction of which I actually used in the final manuscript. Research is large part of the pleasure of writing. Research will make your writing stronger--but it is not writing.

Research, pre-writing, rough drafts, revision (my very favorite stage) are all necessary to writing--they are part of writing--but taken on their own, they are not writing. Anymore than the first mile is the entire trip.

If you want to be a writer, you must write. There's no short-cut and no alternate route. At some point you must put aside the road maps and begin the journey.

Having Fun for Now

Boy, am I having fun. I've been frolicking with these new characters ever since the end of June when I returned from vacation. This crew walked onstage back in December (as I mentioned in a previous post) and I promised to give them my full attention this summer. And I've been having the greatest time with them. I've been brainstorming the mystery plot and clues, writing character descriptions and delving into their individual backgrounds, figuring out who the victim is as well as the killer---and most importantly---why? Why did the killer resort to murder? If you haven't read Michele's post on Writing, do so. She gives an excellent description of the work that goes into crafting a mystery novel (or any novel for that matter).

Interesting plot developments have occurred, surprising me. I'm only halfway through plotting the storyline & not even close to writing up a detailed chapter outline, but I still had to put all of that on hold several days ago. The characters demanded to be allowed on the page. Cheeky devils. Characters are like that. So----I let Molly Malone and her friends on the page. And I'm really enjoying watching them develop.

Characters always surprise me. They say the darnedest things. I never really know what's going on inside a character (I may think I do) until they open their mouths. In dialogue. Oh, boy. Look out. That's when I find out who they really are. And they continue to surprise me.

Right now, I'm just following them around and trying to write down what they say as accurately as I can. That's my job. To bring craft to this endeavor. I can hear them inside my head, see them like a movie right in front of my eyes, but it's still up to me to put all of that on the page in a form that will make the reader care enough to turn the page. And that's the challenge.

Sure, I know what's supposed to happen in each scene, but the characters always take me there in their own way. Right now, Molly and her old friends from childhood are kicking back, relaxing with some vodka martinis, and trying to help Molly find a way out of the quagmire she's gotten into. She needs a lot of money, and she needs it fast. She's returned "home" to the city that broke her heart--Washington, DC. She swore she'd never come back. But she has, and now she has to confront the ghosts that are waiting for her there----as well as solve a murder.

I'm sure you can tell I'm having a good time. I can only play with these folks until the end of August, because in September I will return to my knitting mystery characters and brainstorm book #5 of that series. I'll be working on that non-stop until it's delivered next spring. Meanwhile, I'll keep playing with these guys---and having fun. And----the "bad boy" from Molly's past hasn't even shown up yet. He's out there, too. Molly may not know it, but I do. Heh, heh, heh.

The Writing Process (for me)

I've been trying to figure out all morning what to blog about. There is so much going on in the world, I thought do I want to tackle any of that? No way. Then, I though do I want to write something funny, light, (probably would be about my kids). No. I thought maybe since there seem to be a lot of writers checking in with us, I'd write a bit about how I write a mystery. I did this workshop last week on www.romancedivas.com, which by the way, is a great site for a ton of info for writers!

So, I'll jump in and dish it out:

Every writer goes about the process in different ways. There is no right way or wrong way. In fact, I heard it best described over by Jan Burke, "It's like being left-handed or right." So, for today, I'll tell you how I create my mysteries. Feel free to use my system, parts of it, or none of it and say, "She's crazy," or "That's intersting, but it's not for me." The latter remark is preferred.

The system I use for creating a mystery can be used in any of the sub-genres within mystery, or in reality in any type of genre you write. I formed my system by using two great books that I think every writer should have. 1. How To Write a Damn Good Mystery by James Frey and 2. Immediate Fiction by Jerry Cleaver.The one vital thing that sticks with me from Mr. Cleaver's book is to write every day. EVERY DAY, even if it is only for five minutes. If you write a page a day, you'll have a book in a year. So, that would be my first rule (if I had rules)--write every day.

Before I begin writing a book, I do A LOT of pre-writing. It's actual writing, but it's not the book. There are some writers who can sit down and write a book off the cuff. I am not one of them. I outline, and some may think that outlining is not really writing--yes it is. The reason I outline is because I discover a lot about my characters this way. And, characters are what your story is about. The plot is weaved into the characters' lives, but let's face it, if readers don't have any feelings toward the characters then they won't care about the plot either.

How to build interesting characters? This is how I do it. First I write out an entire list of physical characteristics, interesting facts, lifestyle stuff, etc about my characters. After I finish each characters bio sheet (That's what I call it), and I include all of the characters, then I write a brief paragraph about each one--and I find a reason why they might want the victim dead.

Let me back track--I start with my heroine (for the wine mysteries this is Nikki Sands, for the horse mysteries it's Michaela Bancroft). So, I always have my heroine to begin with, then I come up with the victim. Once the victim is created, I start creating other characters, and I find reasons why each one of those characters might have wanted the victim dead. Once I find what I think is the best reason for someone to have killed someone (no I am not crazy--sort of. I write murder mysteries for goodness sakes--that makes all of us cozy chicks sort of crazy, I guess), I have found my antagonist/villian. After the bios are finished, I go back and write character journals on each character. I may not have discovered the right villain (I discovered this with my last book) with the bios, but once I go through the journals, I can typically flesh this out. I write my mysteries from third person, but when I do these journals, i write from first person. This is a great way to distinguish voice and movement, etc. A lot of times writers wind up having too many characters "sounding," or behaving like each other and there is nothing that distinguishes them apart from one another. This makes a story flat and it isn't true to life, because each individual we come into contact with is different from the next. It's important to get the character down from the most minor to the majors. It gives your story color, reality and three dimension. Essentially it is what brings them to life.

Once finished with the bios and journals I do something that I think is really fun in the process. I scrapbook. I pour myself a glass of wine (because this is usually an evening activity) and I get out all the magazines i've been collecting and haven't looked at, and I go through them, tearing out pages of people that I think would look like my characters, rooms in their houses, favorite foods, favorite places, etc. When I have finished I have a "photo album," of my characters lives. I can also look at these pictures as I'm writing and notice the color of someone's eyes and how I might describe them, the lines on their face, etc. For me having that visual is important because as I write, my stories play out like a movie in my head.After I have created bios, journals and a scrapbook I have about 50 pages of information to draw from, which brings my characters to life for me.

But, I'm not finshed there.The next step is to go through and begin the plotting process. Because I know who the victim is at this point and who the killer is and their motive, I have to now get to the point where my heroine pieces this all together and how she does this. Plus, I have to layer in her back story, her present life, her love life, her insecurities, etc., and do this for a handful of other characters. I always know the ending first, and because I utilize romance as a main sub-plot, I try and sum up what is going on at the end of the story with the romance in my character's life. Because I do a series, I don't have a complete summation of what has happened with the romance, but my main character has figured out at least some aspect about herself or the main male character, or the relationship with him. She, he or they have grown in some way--maybe further apart, or maybe together. The romance for me is important, even though in what I write it's very subtle and at this point in the wine lover's series I've dealt on a level of flirtation, but for me as a writer and reader of romantic suspense, mystery, thrillers, etc., I want to keep turning the page or pick up the next book because I want to know what happens between these characters. I know the mystery will be solved, but I'm not sure how and most importantly I want to know how it will affect or change my characters. What really makes a reader or writer get involved with the characters is EMOTION, and it must be on the page. Build up and "in" the emotion and you will have readers wanting more.Once I've plotted out the story and done all my pre-writing, I can start writing. Time to dig in and get it down on the page. Then I blow out that first draft--no editor in my head--just writing away. I may fall off the "map," and that's okay, but if I get too lost or off course, I have the outline to fall back on and because I know these characters and their stories pretty well before I even start, i may go a different route as long as I stay true to character.

Writing is in many ways like life and that's one of the reasons I love it so much. We may not all travel down the same path. Each process is our own and it's unique. We may not even have the same destination in mind. But we always get to where we are supposed to and need to be.

Have a wonderful week!

Michele

Birthday Blues

My birthday is coming up next month, the end of August. And to me, old is just a state of mind. The number of candles on my birthday cake doesn’t bother me at all. (Talk to me in a couple of years…)

So why the blues?

Last week, my family completed the big birthday trifecta—the last of my three kids celebrated their birthday for the year.

It’s their birthdays that depress me.

Maybe if their birthdays were more spread out throughout the year, it would be easier, but come spring it’s the birthday wallop, with a birthday in May, in June, in July.

On one hand I’m happy to see them grow, to get older. I like seeing the way their faces change, the way their sense of humor matures (for the most part), and how I can see an inkling of the adult they’re going to be.

On the other hand, they’re getting older. Gone are the days of holding their hand while crossing the street, of the scent of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo lingering in the air, of reading before bed, of cutting their meat, of seeing the innocence in their eyes.

Sigh.

Thankfully, just like when they were little, they don’t mind when I fuss with their hair, or remind them to brush their teeth, or check on them at night just to make sure they’re still breathing. Okay, they might mind, but they put up with it.

As they get older I have new worries other than if his motor skills will ever be up to par, if his snaggle tooth will grow in right, if her blankie will make it another year. Now there are a whole lot of things to fear that I’d rather not think about or risk having palpitations.

But the best part of them getting older? There’s just some things they can’t outgrow, despite how old they are—or how much taller they are than me. Like my hugs and kisses. And how much I love them.

And I have almost ten months before the next birthday—plenty of time to recover… Right?

~heather

Tip for the day: Don't wax and bathe

First, allow me to say that my first author photo was so... well, let's just say UNFLATTERING... that I have had people walk up to me at a bookstore signing and ask me if I've seen Karen MacInerney.

Needless to say, I recently had a new one taken.

Now, for a few interesting tidbits that I picked up last week in the name of research.

I've learned a good number of things along the way -- for example, I know that innkeepers spend a lot of time discussing fabric softeners (honestly), and that the waning moon is the best time to cast a spell to get rid of bad habits (who knew it made a difference?) -- but when I went to have my eyebrows ripped off the other day (well, parts of them, anyway), I got to talking with Debbie, the woman doing the ripping.

You see, since my latest character, Sophie Garou, is a werewolf, excess hair is a big part of her life. As in getting rid of it. And who better than Debbie to ask about waxing? How often, how painful, how expensive, etc. (I'm not brave enough to go past the whole eyebrow thing, so I'm relatively clueless.)

So first she told me that one of her clients actually fell asleep during the whole eyebrow-removal process. Which is astonishing, because in my opinion it hurts like... well, heck. Next, she told me a bit about what goes into a bikini wax -- not to mention a Brazilian. (Ouch!) I quickly decided that a bikini wax is just not in the cards for me. Then again, neither is a bikini, so I guess it's okay.

And then she told me about a woman who tried waxing at home... and got her cheeks stuck together. (Not the ones on her face, either.) So she hopped into the bathtub and turned on the water -- which did nothing but solidify the wax -- and succeeded in getting herself stuck to the tub. That's right. She WAXED HERSELF TO HER BATHTUB.

I can only imagine what the paramedics must have thought when they arrived.

So you just can't hear a story like that without trying to get that in a book. Haven't figured it out yet, but I'm sure it will show up in there somewhere.

So Karen's handy tip for the day? If attempting home-waxing, don't sit down in the bathtub.

And now I'm reading about ways to turn into a werewolf, so who knows what goodies next week will bring?

Judging An Author By Her Cover

Every so often we authors hear these horror stories about agencies or publishers who demand full color glossies before they'll sign an author--the idea being that attractive people are easier to market.

Which is possibly true--though I imagine it depends on what one plans on marketing these authors for.

Maybe this is one of those urban author legends (as opposed to those rural author legends). Or maybe there are houses and agencies so cynical that they truly believe looks are more important than writing. I know many authors are divided as to whether promotion, rather than writing, to be the decisive factor in a successful career. Personally I think it requires a combination--with writing ultimately playing a greater role.

However it's worth noting here that so far I show no sign of turning into a mega-bestseller. I did get my hair cut last week, so hopefully all that will change.

Growing up, I always pictured male authors as suave and urbane--handsome fellows in smoking jackets holding martini glasses--or, if they were literary types--tweed blazers (appropriately patched at the elbows), pipes, and maybe a rather flattering pair of glasses. Female authors or "Authoresses"...I regret to say...I always pictured like....



I know, I know! I can't explain it either. Especially since I knew from fourth grade that I wanted to be a writer--and yet somehow knew I would never willingly don a feather boa. A hat maybe. I do like hats.

Anyway, I've met all the Cozy Chicks (okay, except Maggie, but I'm willing to take Maggie on trust) and I feel confident in saying that NONE of us remotely resemble my childhood visions of lady writers. Well...maybe lady writers like in that movie with Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins--which, by the way, would be a fun one to rent for the first ever Cozy Chicks slumber party.

This is not to diss Dame Barbara Cartland because that lady could write popular fiction like nobody's business--she averaged something like twenty-three novels a year. I think she probably still holds the world record for most books produced.

I can't speak for other genres, but I've been to a few mystery writing conferences, and I've never had the impression that appearances were of huge concern to anyone there. Maybe the thriller writers and readers are stricter about these things, but at mystery conventions you see a lot of comfortable shoes and bare faces. And this is not a criticism. I'm all in favor of comfortable shoes.

It's my belief that people who read for pleasure are probably less locked into appearances than...some other people who shall be nameless but who refuse to consider anything that doesn't come with a remote control real entertainment. Reading does require a bit of work, a bit of imagination. I actively dislike the idea that someone would buy or not buy a book based on what the author looked like--not that I'm paranoid or anything.

I mean, not that I think being attractive should hurt sales. I don't agree with the notion that only plain people can be smart. Or that book people have to look like Marian the Librarian. If I thought the dwindling number of book buyers in the world had to do with fashion or plastic surgery, I'd delightedly don stilettos (for the three to four minutes before my pain threshold was breached).

I guess if the paper moguls wanted to be really calculating about this whole author as celebrity thing, we should all be required to fill out personality tests by prospective publishers. Just imagine the questions on that baby!

Watch your Dogs

Nothing about writing today. Today I want to alert bloggers & lurkers about a new strain of canine influenza which is sweeping over the US. It's virulent and it is deadly. My own Carl---yes, fictional Carl in the knitting mysteries is based on my real life Rottweiler, Carl---caught this awful virus and very nearly died.

This is a new strain of canine flu which appeared in the US 2 yrs ago, vets say, first showing up at the greyhound racing tracks in Florida. It's airborne and spread rapidly. As soon as dogs who're infected are with other dogs---like in a kennel or training center or a dog park or anywhere---they can catch it. It's sneaky because it often accompanies a newer strain of Bortadella or kennel cough, which is usually not fatal.

Both my dogs (Carl & Katy --you'll meet her in an upcoming book) were in their favorite kennel and training ctr while I was in Ireland in June. While there, a "healthy-looking" dog joined the group and then got sick the next day. Coughing. If all the dog has is kennel cough then it's more easily treated. The kennel treated with antibiotics and when I returned they said Carl and Katy had just started coughing and should take the pills for a week or so and should get better.

My Carl is ten years old (older than fictional Carl), so like w/humans, the youngest and the oldest are most at risk. I noticed Katy seemed to be getting better, but Carl was taking longer. After a week, Carl suddenly got worse. And I mean suddenly. The very morning I decided to call the vet and make appt to take him in, Carl suddenly started having nasal discharge which he hadn't before and coughing more. Vet said that this new flu was often causing pneumonia, especially in older dogs. The virus doesn't cause it, but it causes all the body's natural defenses to be suppressed so the pneumonia-causing bacteria around jump right in and cause it. Just like with humans.

I rushed Carl over to vet and by then he was already having trouble breathing. Heartrate up, temp 104 (normal no more than 101). Vet and I knew Carl needed intervention NOW or we'd lose him. This disease had already claimed lots of dogs, vet said, and it's continuing to spread because NO DOG HAS IMMUNITY. There's no vaccine. This is a new bug.

Thank goodness we have one of the premier verterinary teaching hospitals and research facilities in the US right here in Ft Collins-----Colorado State University. Vet called them and told them to have a gurney waiting for Carl. He handed me the vials of blood they'd taken and we carried Carl to my old SUV. He was too weak to get in.

CSU Vet Critical Care was waiting with their team and they whisked Carl right into isolation and 40% oxygen. Chest film showed pneumonia was already filling up top and middle lobe of right lung. They did throat tube to get bacteria sample, then put him on IV fluids and ran heavy duty antibiotics into the old boy. He started breathing easier. Thank God.

Vet said we got him just in time, bec this flu can cause death in dogs within 4-6 hours by the time they "present" with those symptoms. Yikes! And I was supposed to be away from home all day, but didn't go bec my instinct said to stay w/Carl. Thank goodness.

Thankfully, Carl responded well to treatment and was back home in a few days---with lots of new antibiotics. Lab tests showed the bacteria in his lungs was a particularly nasty one that needed more than the normal antibiotics. That's why the first week he looked like he might be getting better but really wasn't-----then, boom. Bacteria in lungs goes on high.

So------please watch your doggies, folks. If they start coughing, watch for 2-3 days and if they're still coughing, call the vet. They may only have the more harmless kennel cough w/no flu. But then again, the flu may be hiding in there as well. Older dogs are more at risk. Katy finally started showing more symptoms and had to take the extra drugs too. Since she was younger she was able to fight it off longer than Carl.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Control Freak

I am a control freak! Yep. You heard me. I think if you asked most writers we would tell you that we are control freaks who are out of control. LOL. Most writers I know spend a ton of time alone (physically) at the keyboard, and we have issues that cause us to have a need to control. These issues vary for us, but mine are--I have a big family and sometimes it is difficult to be "heard," in my house. It wasn't always this way growing up. In fact, I was the youngest child and the only one at home while growing up, but there were other issues I was dealing with beyond my control, and so I learned to create characters who I could control. I spent hours in my room with "these people." I guess you could call them imaginary friends, but to me I was the director and they were the actors on stage, and I controlled the show.

It's great to be a writer because we get to take out our aggravations on our characters or live a life we could only dream of (literally--we dream all this stuff up, no one in any of The Cozy Chicks' books resembles anyone in real life. Honest). We get to put our characters into sticky, awful situations and watch them squirm and bring them out of it and watch them grow. We get to kill off ex-husbands, we get to scream at the waiter who messed up our order, we get to talk back to our parents or kids for that matter (typically surly teenagers), turn into warewolves (Karen), run bed and breakfasts, drink a lot of wine and never get drunk (Nikki never seems to get past tipsy except if she drinks hard alcohol. Big wino.), knit because we have time to enjoy life (Maggie), own a landscape company to express our creative talent (Heather), and study romantic poetry while solving crimes (Diana). Oh yeah, and we all get to be funny while doing it. (At least, I think we're all funny). Okay, so WE don't get to do all these things, our characters do, but We get to control what they do and for a writer that gives us pure joy. Tell me, any control freaks among us?

Cheers,
Michele

Plotaholics Anonymous

I just started WEEDING OUT TROUBLE, the fifth book in the Nina Quinn series, and I’m wondering what the odds are of keeping my plotting to a minimum.

If I had a Magic 8 Ball, I’m sure it would smugly predict, “Not bloody good.” [My Magic 8 Ball would surely be the British version.]

You see, I have this problem. With plotting. As in I usually have four, sometimes five, plots going on simultaneously with the main plot. And somehow they usually tie in together.

I call it the Seinfeld method of plotting.

No matter what you think of the show itself, its writers were genius. Usually each character on the show had their own plotline, yet somehow by the end, the plots intertwined. And made sense.

A lot of my plotting issues come from having a lot of characters in my books. My plots revolve around Nina and the many aspects of her life. It’s important for me as a writer to show that her life doesn’t stand still just because she stumbles across a dead body (or two), because when does life ever stand still in time of crisis? She still has to chauffeur her stepson around town, still has a job to do and employees who count on her, still has a love life to sort out, still has neighbors to deal with, and still has a family who love to be involved in her life. That’s a lot of people who have stories to tell.

Now I have to admit, I vowed to have no more than two plots in TROUBLE IN BLOOM {Spring 2007}, just to see what it would be like. Amazingly I did have two, the main one and a minor one. Ahem. Not counting the four eensy weensy, tiny, almost too inconsequential to mention subplots.

So, in the end, I admit I’m a plotaholic…but I’m okay with that. I’m beginning to think it’s not a problem at all, but an advantage. I just hope everyone else thinks so too!

~heather

What I’ve Worked on this Week: proposals for new projects and WEEDING
Pages Completed on WEEDING: 14

**Just want to say that it's totally coincidental Karen and I both had -aholic blogs this week. Maybe we chickies are more alike than we thought!**

Walkaholics unite!

Hello. My name is Karen MacInerney and I'm a walkaholic. (I'm also a writeaholic, but I think Diana addressed that one in another post.)

Hey, come to think of it, those two things are related.

I've done all kinds of things over the years exercise-wise -- walking (of course), running, swimming, cycling (although I think I called it riding my bike), even Tae Kwon Do and Jazzercise. I admit it; I grapevined to the B-52s for a while. And yes, Diana and Michele, I've done yoga. (My favorite part was always at the end, when you got to lie down and listen to soothing music. Of course, I always ended up next to the person who fell asleep and snored.)

It's hard to believe now, but I even got talked into doing a triathlon last year. And as far as I'm concerned, now I can cross that off my life list and I never, ever have to do it again.

But it all comes back to walking for me. Every weekday morning, after I divest myself of my children (ages 4 and 6), I grab my iPod and head for the trail around a nearby lake. I used to walk -- and sometimes run -- the three mile loop, but these days I do a brisk 40-minute walk with a few sprints thrown in if I'm feeling restless. I ran it every day for a while -- for a lifelong non-runner, it was pretty cool to get to the point where I could do 3 miles without stopping. But when I realized the running, while exhilirating, wasn't working for me, I pulled back.

The problem? It was twofold, really. First, my knee was giving me trouble. But second -- and even more importantly -- it was messing with my writing. I was spending entirely too much time wondering how I was going to make it to the water cooler and entirely too little time dreaming and thinking about my book-in-progress. (Sound familiar, Diana?) Which meant I got to the page unprepared (ick) and, while I was training for that silly triathlon, LATE.

So now I do my forty minutes of walking five days a week -- sometimes longer, if I feel like it -- and throw in a little free weight training to keep my bones from disintegrating when I hit 60. And then I take my handy-dandy laptop, go find a comfy chair, and type my little heart out until I hit my magic word count. (I've fallen short this last week, and have a rewrite due, so I'd better get it in gear, but in theory that's what I do.)

I do think that getting out and doing physical exercise -- preferably outside, in a natural area -- can sometimes help those of us who live in our heads all the time (you know who you are) to zone out and relax. Maybe stop thinking so much, get into that kind of Zen place that's so hard to get to when you have deadlines and phone calls and the rabbit just chewed a hole in your favorite shirt and somebody dropped an entire gallon of chocolate milk on the kitchen floor. Not that any of that would ever happen in my house. We're just talking theoretical here, right?

So, am I the only one who zones out by tramping around a lake listening to Death Cab for Cutie, the Smiths, and Oingo Boingo? Come on... I can't be the only one...

Fit To Print

I’m totally out of shape.

I’m not boasting, mind you. I’m not even lamenting—-mostly because I don’t have the breath to waste.

I sort of already knew this. There’s a whole section of my wardrobe that I can’t squeeze into—it’s where all my favorite clothes are. I kept blaming it on the dry cleaner, but I don’t get my jeans dry cleaned. Or my swimsuit. Or my undies.

I assume it happened gradually. One too many pints of those Haagen daz black raspberry chips. One too many baskets of tortilla strips. One too many of just about everything, I guess—-and no exercise.

I don’t have time to exercise. I still have a day job and I work between 45-50 hours a week at it. That doesn’t include the two hours every week day that I spend driving to that job. In my spare time (which includes lunch and hours I steal from sleeping), I write. Or I blog. What I’d like to do is garden or read or exercise.

Well, that’s what I say for the record, but the truth is, I’m not that keen on exercise. I love walking—-when we lived in the country I used to go for long walks and think about what I would write. It was good exercise and it was time well-spent plotting. Literally.

But now we live in the city and I don’t enjoy walking so much. Instead I do those Leslie Sansone walking tapes. My husband (who, bless his heart, seems to truly believe that I am a direct descendent of Helen of Troy) made me a CD of all my favorite peppy songs to walk to so I don’t have to listen to Leslie. Not that I don’t enjoy her encouraging chirps, but I can now recite her entire spiel and that is just a “wee little bit” (as Les would say) boring.

So I’ve been walking. And I do feel better for it. I do.

But then it occurred to me that since I’m going to be writing this yoga mystery series, it would behoove me to renew my acquaintanceship with yoga—-just in case someone at a signing asks me to lay down a few moves beyond Corpse Pose (which I have down cold).

Yoga, I told myself, would be good for my stress level—-not anticipating how stressed I would become when I finally realized how totally out of shape I really was.

My friend Rebecca Myers sent me a set of yoga tapes and I decided to start with something called P.M. Yoga. It sounded promising—-calming and quiet—the perfect way to wind down after a taxing day—and shortly after I learned that I was no longer the nimble little minx I once was.






HOLY HELL (which, by the way, is not a yoga-like sentiment). I felt like one of those Barbies without the bendable joints. Ouch!

First there is the deep breathing section. I was relieved to find that I could still manage this, although I have a horrible habit of letting my mind wander to un-yoga-like thoughts like…did I remember to post-date that last blog? Did I leave the garden hose running? I wonder if I should switch to a lighter moisturizer?

I can just wrap myself into lotus position—-it is not pretty and it is not comfortable. The more active moves probably present like I feel doing them—Dog Pose, in particular, is not, I fear, a good look for me. (By the way, I’ve never seen a dog in anything resembling this position—-not the way I do it, anyway.)

So far one move totally eludes me (along with html coding and downshifting in an automatic): Proud Warrior.

You start by sliding one foot back and sort of bending down and balancing on the front foot/leg (by the way, do not try this at home—not using my instructions, anyway) and then you sweep your arms up and rise into a lunge. Anyway, this is my interpretation and perhaps it explains why my Proud Warrior is more like Slow Warrior Gets Shot with Arrow and Topples Over Swearing Loudly.

And now I’ll tell you something truly amazing about me and yoga.

I LOVE it. As bad as I am at it, I feel so much better since I’ve started practicing. I’m much more limber and much more flexible (okay, I admit that isn’t saying a lot) and I am a lot calmer when I lay my buzzing brain down on my pillow. I actually look forward to doing my yoga each night.

Writing is a sedentary business and it’s important to keep strong physically (which helps you keep sharp mentally). So, you writer chicks, what do you do to keep fit?

Summertime & summer writing

I love summer. Hot & dry, I still love it. One of the things I love is to be outside on my backyard patio, sitting in the shade, breeze rustling the trees above me. My two dogs lying in the sun or nosing around the bushes and trees. Whether reading or working on my laptop, I want to be outside as much as I can. Last summer, I was traveling and away from Colorado the entire month of July. This summer I get to be home the entire summer. And I'm loving it. Even though A DEADLY YARN comes out this August, I've scheduled only Colorado signings for that month, so I'll still be home. Another thing I love about this summer is it's providing me a perfect window of time to work on another mystery series idea I have.

I finished book #4 of the knitting mysteries (probable title: A KILLER STITCH) and sent it to my editor on May 30th. Then I left for Ireland to "refill the well." I'll share some of my experiences in a later post. For now, I'll just say that the trip exceeded my expectations. I refilled the well and then some. And---drank a lot of Guinness while there.

When I returned in mid-June, there was a ton of catching up to do. While I was catching, though, I was still able to start letting these new characters out to frolic in the summer air.

These new characters walked onstage in December and haven't left me alone. Since I was writing book #4 then, I had absolutely NO time to give to them. But characters are a wily lot, and they sneak in and steal moments here and there---spinning their stories, stealing time from other projects. I promised them that I'd save time for them this summer.

Now, I'm letting them have their time in the sun, so to speak, and getting to explore them in the process. I plan to use this summer to brainstorm this new mystery, create a plot outline, and actually write the beginning chapters. Before I know it, the temps will start to slide, and Fall will be upon us, and it will be time to start book #5 of the knitting mystery series---and start traveling to conferences and signings for A DEADLY YARN.

You may have gathered that I'm kind of structured when it comes to scheduling and time. Uh, yeah. Guilty. I work best that way. And especially now that the knitting mysteries are out and doing so well, I have to carefully balance writing time with promotion. Now, that's a challenge. I touched on that briefly in my first post to this blog. Scheduling your time is one of the major struggles for any working writer. Especially someone like me who's trying to support herself from this crazy business. (More on that another time).

There's something else you may have noticed from these summer ramblings---the necessity of having to work on more than one writing project at a time. Definitely. That's the life of the working writer. For example: last spring (April & May & June of 2005), I was writing and finishing book #3 of the knitting mysteries, revising book #2, and promoting and selling book #1, which came out in June 2005. Believe me, you learn to compartmentalize fast if you haven't already. (Most women writers w/families already have that down).

So, here's to summer and lazy, breezy, summer days spent however you choose. As for me, I'll be outside. Except tonight, July 4th, I'll be at a friend's home, watching the city fireworks display over City Park Lake. Happy Fourth, everyone! ----Maggie Sefton

Hillarie

This has been a tough weekend for me. I won't go into all the reasons, but one of the big ones is I have a very close friend who is dying. I hadn't planned on getting into this on the blog because it's so personal, but it's important and I want to tell her story, because I love her dearly and she is a reminder as to why not to take any second of any day for granted.

Hillarie has breast cancer. She was diagnosed almost four years ago and was already in stage 4--the final stage. I'll never forget the night that she called to tell me the doctor had told her the lump that she'd found was cancer. We were supposed to watch "The Bachelor," together that night. It was our Monday night get together that had become a ritual. When she told me, I couldn't believe it. We cried and then laughed and assured each other that she'd beat it. You hear about how many women have this disease, but when it touches your own life, it really puts it in perspective.

I have watched Hillarie during these past four years go through various treatments, lose her hair, lose her breasts, get a divorce, in and out of the hospital, and on and on. She is a true testament of strength. Yesterday we celebrated her 42nd birthday--a surprise party and to see someone who has been through so much laugh and celebrate and enjoy her friends and family made me realize my day to day complaints, my little stressors are nothing. Hillarie has shown me what it means to really live--to not be afraid, to laugh when you feel like crying, to go for it when you're not sure it's the right thing to do, and to love with everything in you. We know her time left here with us is short, but she hasn't stopped living or loving or giving, and I am grateful for her and what she's taught me.

I'm not writing this to be a "downer." I'm writing it to remind all of us to look at who we are, who is in our lives, the freedoms we have, the little and big things in life and just celebrate each and every day. Life is precious--live it!

I want to add that there is a new test that I learned about called the breast pap smear or "halo," test. It has not been released nation wide yet, but be sure you and all the women you know are aware of it. My doctor just told me about it last week, and it's a very simple test that takes five minutes. It can detect cancer cells up to seven years before a lump becomes present. This is huge and I really believe that so many lives will be saved by utilizing this test along with mammograms. I wish that this test had been available to Hillarie but it's because of women like her who have fought and continue to fight "the battle," that I believe there will be a cure.