August? Already? I can’t believe how fast time flies now that I’m older. I remember as a kid feeling like summer went on forever, the wait between Thanksgiving and Christmas was endless, and it felt like decades between birthdays. Now, I blink and half my summer is gone! Poof!
In the summer I like to read and read and read. I try authors I’ve never heard of, re-read some of my favorites, and haunt the “New Books” section of the library like a bar fly at last call. During the school year I have to limit my reading time and so I stock books for July and August. By the end of June my “To be read” pile no longer fits on my nightstand, in fact it’s BIGGER than my nightstand.
I think summer vacation shouldn’t end until my pile of books is finished. That’s not unreasonable, right?
So what about you? Do you have a pile of books by your bed or maybe a list of unread books on your ebook reader? Are you more disciplined than me and only get the next book when you’ve finished reading what you already own, or do you grab a stack of what looks good at the library and save your own for a rainy day? Do you get nervous when you don’t have a few back up books handy?
More importantly, what are you reading? And do you have any suggestions for me, because I’m always looking for another good book.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
M.F.S.
M.F.S. is my new way of life at the moment.
As women, we survive many changes, childhood, puberty,
awkward teenage years where these objects that catch boy's eyes pop out
of our chest and start our amazement at what thrills the male species.
Until we blossom into women, where we learn, we grow
and realize the power we maintain within ourselves.
It doesn't stop there. We become girlfriends, wives, mothers and
leaders. Yet that's not enough to assuage the curse of Eve and that Damn apple.
We were cursed to bleed in a monthly cycle. Ever wonder what we'd be like if
one woman hadn't slipped into temptation? Should we blame her for that one fault?
Nah, because if it hadn't been her, it would have been another down the line.
We women are sensual creatures. We control the world's finest asset...ourselves.
Yet, still we can't find a cure for menopause.
Hot flashes, night sweats, mood swings, and changes in diet wage war on our
systems and suspend our normal way of life. For some it's quick and last a year or
two. For others, it drags on over a long period of years.
Myself, I started what's called peri-menopause a few years back (yes, I'm older than
I look). It began with night sweats ,but not every night. Then my cycle changed and
became heavy and more frequent so I chose to take a shortcut out of this downward
spiral in the female agenda. I had an ablation. It's a simple procedure where the
uterine lining is cauterized to prevent future periods. For me, it freaked my system out
and when the time for my normal cycle came, I was catapulted into menopause.
It was a week from hell. I was irritable, mean, cranky, weepy, and sweating buckets around
the clock. Thanks to one of the nurses I work with, I found an herbal supplement that seems
to help me, for now. It's called Estroven, maximum strength. It's not the perfect solution.
I still get night sweats occasionally, but not every night.
As sisters in this trek, I'm open to any and all ideas for easing this unwanted chapter of
the feminine life. I look forward to hearing your suggestions for alleviating the symptoms
of menopause because Menopause Fu***** Sucks!
Tara Nina
Monday, July 26, 2010
Past, present, future
The following entries were originally posted on another blog. I thank them for the opportunity to look at my own journey and wanted to share it with you.
What Comes First The Reader Or The Writer?
Whenever anyone discovers that I write one of the first questions they always ask is, “So how long have you been a writer?” I’m never really sure how to answer. I suspect they mean how long have I been published, which to me isn’t correct because I was a writer long before I was published though I probably wouldn’t have called myself that then. Back then I just loved to read and often would write when the story didn’t go the way I thought it should or just for my own amusement. I have very early memories of my grandparents visiting on a Monday night and being excited to show them what I had written that week. I also have a very funny story written by me (about a golden fish who deid) in a letter to my dad when I could barely spell let alone read. So does that make me a reader or a writer first? My mum encouraged my love of books taking me to the library regularly letting me wander for hours among the stacks. The smell of the library is still one of my favorite things, to me it represented people and adventures and possibilities. The air of hushed anticipation of all the experiences that waited between the pages complimenting in a strange way the quiet pursuit of knowledge. I was upset when the town library installed a coffee shop and the pungent scent of brewing coffee banished the smell of paper and ink. I devoured Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl and fell in love with Watership Down. Then my mum introduced me to Dick Francis, probably earlier than she should but I was already reading way past the levels of my peers. From Dick Francis I moved onto Patricia Cornwell and my own writing changed into mystery and suspense. By this time I had read almost everything I was interested in in my local library except for the romances. So I had a look and I found Tami Hoag and Jayne Ann Krentz and a new passion was born. Eventually I followed romance through to paranormal romance thanks to Jayne Ann Krentz’s A Gift of Gold, Anne Stuart’s A Dark and Stormy Night and Rebecca York’s Light Street series. The internet came to our house and my world expanded again. My next love was ebooks. I found an online community of writers and authors and joined several groups, one of which belonged to Angela Knight. One day we began discussing the question which started my journey; how many of us who read also wrote?
The Accidental Author
It took a long time for me to pluck up the courage to admit that I was one of the group who also liked to write. The discussion changed to what we wrote and I read the snippets that the others sent to the group with interest and trepidation because I knew they expected me to contribute. I was terrified. No one but my family had ever read any of my stories, how could I put myself out there in a public forum for people who were essentially strangers? But the others had done it and I didn’t want to be a coward when they had the courage to put themselves out there for me. So I did. I had been working on a story about a shapeshifter who needed to find his mate. I called it Jack and Megan because I couldn’t think of a title. I only had half of a chapter and had no idea where it was going or if it was going anywhere but I posted it anyway. I bit my nails and waited on tenterhooks for the rest of the day for responses. To my delight they were overwhelmingly positive. There were gentle and some not so gentle prods asking me for the rest of the story. Rest of the story? What rest? I wrote a little more and sent it too admitting that it wasn’t complete. Once again they loved it but this time I received the private email that changed everything. It seemed that one of the members of the group was an editor for a publisher called Ellora’s Cave. I had heard of them. I had even bought books from them. ‘When you finish it, send it to me.’ She said and sent me into a tailspin. I was entering my final year of University, how could I finish a book? I had no time. I had never written anything that long before. I never even contemplated trying to become published, I’m not good enough.
I’m not good enough.
Remember those words because they will come back to haunt me. It took me almost a year to finish Jack and Megan and that long to think of the title, Believe In The Magic. I dithered over sending it talking myself into and out of it too many times to count but eventually I did. Two days later I received an email offering me a contract. Seems someone thought I was good enough.
All The Firsts
When my first book came out I was flying high and when the first cheque arrived I kept my promise to myself and used it to travel across the Atlantic to the Romantic Times Convention. I had been living it vicariously through various email groups for a few years and had always wanted to go. I wanted to meet the people who had been so supportive of me in person and I really wanted to meet all the authors I had grown to love. When I put on the badge saying published author for the first time I felt like nothing could get better. I was wrong, the next day my publisher surprised me with a box of my books in print. I sat on the floor in a corner of the room with the chaos of other Ellora’s Cave authors stuffing promo in bags around me and I breathed in the scent of those books and I cried. It’s difficult to describe how much that meant to me. I love ebooks. I love the convenience of them, the instant gratification that comes from finding a book at buying it and reading even if it’s 2am, not to mention that they are usually cheaper and as an author I love that I get more royalties from them. But there is nothing like holding that paper copy in your hand. It brings so many memories of my childhood and all the time I spent wandering among the bookshelves. Ebooks are the future but they will never replace print.
There were a lot more firsts at the Convention that year. First time someone recognised me, first time someone asked me to sign something just for the pleasure of having my signature, first book signing, first time I saw my book on a bookshelf in a store. I met so many friends I had made online as well as many new ones. It was an experience that guaranteed my attendance at the Romantic Times Convention every year for as long as I could afford it.
The Great Depression
I came home from my first Romantic Times Convention inspired and ready to write the second book but my personal life had changed. I had been forced to move away from my friends and family to work and the job was far from perfect. We were short staffed and a job that is stressful at the best of times was made worse because I was inexperienced and the support I needed wasn’t there. I was travelling 400 miles every week and working full time. Eventually my days off weren’t enough, I was tired all the time and had to force myself to get out of bed every day. I lost a lot of weight. I caught every cold flu and minor ailment that came my way. All my emotions were close to the surface and I just never felt well. I was miserable my writing was one of the first things to suffer. I had no motivation to open up that document and when I did I would sit and stare at that blinking cursor and nothing would come to me. It took all my energy to keep going, I had none left to be creative. I felt isolated and alone. For almost a year things piled on top of me until I couldn’t see the light anymore and I was just going through the motions. I knew something was wrong I just didn’t know what so I went to my GP. At the end of the consultation my doctor said ‘Do you think you could be depressed?’
My first reaction was denial. Of course I wasn’t depressed. Even working in the medical field I had falling for the stereotypes and I didn’t fit them. I left the doctor’s office scoffing at the whole idea. Deep down I knew he was right but it was a label I didn’t want. Soon afterwards a series of awful experiences at work made me re-evaluate my life. I admitted to myself that my doctor might have been right. I couldn’t continue on the way I was going for very much longer, I needed my family, I needed to be home. Within 4 months I had found a new job, it meant a pay cut and a daily commute of 90 miles but it didn’t matter. I moved home, joined a gym and even went so far as cutting my waist length hair to my shoulders. It took a while but with the support of my friends and family I began to reclaim my life, pulled my creativity out of the black hole and started writing again.
The Only Way Is Up
I wish I could say that everything went smoothly after all of those changes but it’s seldom as simple as that. The second book was finished in my initial burst of renewed energy but it wasn’t long before life got in the way again. I was closer to home but I was still working full time twelve hour shifts, mixing days and nights. It was difficult to keep my motivation when all I wanted to do on my days off was relax. Some weeks I was writing nothing and some I was only managing a few hundred words. I spoke to other writers about how they managed to work full time and write as well and all had different strategies. The common theme was 'write something everyday' otherwise it’s harder to maintain your forward momentum. I eventually finished a novella and sent it off only for it to be rejected. It stung but I figured it was my turn and the book perhaps didn’t fit. I rewrote the novella submitted it again to two different publishers and was again turned down. Those horrible words I asked you to remember started creeping into my head.
I’m not good enough.
I decided to take a break from writing for a while, focusing on work and other things until eventually the stories and characters started niggling at me again. Write me, write me. I joined Twitter and far from being a distraction, I found that seeing other writers talk about their craft and posting when they were writing was making the urge to get back to it stronger. They encouraged each other and shared word counts and I found that I wasn’t all that different. That some did only manage a few hundred words a day and rejoiced in it. We won’t talk about the ones who write five to ten thousand. Eventually I joined in. Since their voices were the loudest I pulled out the much rejected novella and totally re-wrote it. In the process I fell in love with the characters even more, pouring my heart into the story and finding joy in creating it. I shared it with my proofreaders and they loved the story as much as I did. The confidence I had lost was restored, this time they would find their place.
The Big Rejection
I suppose the title of this entry kind of gives it away. The novella didn’t find its place. This time when I submitted it, it got a hard rejection. Not just a form letter or a ‘sorry not right for this project’ or ‘if you re-write this’. This time it was thanks but no thanks, I didn’t like it. Also included was a helpful breakdown of all the things they didn’t like and no positives. I was devastated. I felt like I had put everything I had into the story, had had such confidence in it and it wasn’t good enough. Yep. There are those words again. They just keep coming back to haunt me.
It was at this time that I had what I like to call the online meltdown. I was terrifically upset and I wasn’t in a place where I could hide it. I tried to be objective, to let it go over my head but every time I read that email all I heard was ‘you’re not good enough’. I was ready to quit. Why would I keep putting myself through the wringer like this?
Yeah, I hear you all shouting at your PC and trust me, if I had been on the outside I would have done the same. I had lost sight of the fact that I was in a better place than some in the same situation. I had two books published already. Everyone was supportive but there were quite a few offers to kick my ass for being so negative. So why would anyone keep going? The answer is obvious but I wasn’t in a place where I could see it yet.
Never Give Up
It took a week before I was able to pull myself together after the big rejection and answer my own question. I would keep going not because I might find someone to publish another book or because I had already had some measure of success already or even to prove that I could. Those are good reasons but not the best one. I would keep going because I’m a writer and I can’t do otherwise.
I’d love to say I don’t care whether I’m ever published again but it would be a lie. Of course I care. Even before I started this crazy journey part of the joy of creating new worlds and characters was sharing them with others, even if it was just my grandparents. However I’m going to try not to let the bumps in the road get in the way. It would be nice to finish with the news that I have had another book contracted but I am still working on that.
Every writer’s journey is different and we all have obstacles to overcome. My biggest is self doubt. I’m sure I’ll never get rid of that hateful voice that says I’m not good enough but I am learning to embrace it. I have to listen just enough to keep my work improving and not enough for it to steal my confidence again. This is the story so far of my writing life, thank you for letting me share it.
What Comes First The Reader Or The Writer?
Whenever anyone discovers that I write one of the first questions they always ask is, “So how long have you been a writer?” I’m never really sure how to answer. I suspect they mean how long have I been published, which to me isn’t correct because I was a writer long before I was published though I probably wouldn’t have called myself that then. Back then I just loved to read and often would write when the story didn’t go the way I thought it should or just for my own amusement. I have very early memories of my grandparents visiting on a Monday night and being excited to show them what I had written that week. I also have a very funny story written by me (about a golden fish who deid) in a letter to my dad when I could barely spell let alone read. So does that make me a reader or a writer first? My mum encouraged my love of books taking me to the library regularly letting me wander for hours among the stacks. The smell of the library is still one of my favorite things, to me it represented people and adventures and possibilities. The air of hushed anticipation of all the experiences that waited between the pages complimenting in a strange way the quiet pursuit of knowledge. I was upset when the town library installed a coffee shop and the pungent scent of brewing coffee banished the smell of paper and ink. I devoured Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl and fell in love with Watership Down. Then my mum introduced me to Dick Francis, probably earlier than she should but I was already reading way past the levels of my peers. From Dick Francis I moved onto Patricia Cornwell and my own writing changed into mystery and suspense. By this time I had read almost everything I was interested in in my local library except for the romances. So I had a look and I found Tami Hoag and Jayne Ann Krentz and a new passion was born. Eventually I followed romance through to paranormal romance thanks to Jayne Ann Krentz’s A Gift of Gold, Anne Stuart’s A Dark and Stormy Night and Rebecca York’s Light Street series. The internet came to our house and my world expanded again. My next love was ebooks. I found an online community of writers and authors and joined several groups, one of which belonged to Angela Knight. One day we began discussing the question which started my journey; how many of us who read also wrote?
The Accidental Author
It took a long time for me to pluck up the courage to admit that I was one of the group who also liked to write. The discussion changed to what we wrote and I read the snippets that the others sent to the group with interest and trepidation because I knew they expected me to contribute. I was terrified. No one but my family had ever read any of my stories, how could I put myself out there in a public forum for people who were essentially strangers? But the others had done it and I didn’t want to be a coward when they had the courage to put themselves out there for me. So I did. I had been working on a story about a shapeshifter who needed to find his mate. I called it Jack and Megan because I couldn’t think of a title. I only had half of a chapter and had no idea where it was going or if it was going anywhere but I posted it anyway. I bit my nails and waited on tenterhooks for the rest of the day for responses. To my delight they were overwhelmingly positive. There were gentle and some not so gentle prods asking me for the rest of the story. Rest of the story? What rest? I wrote a little more and sent it too admitting that it wasn’t complete. Once again they loved it but this time I received the private email that changed everything. It seemed that one of the members of the group was an editor for a publisher called Ellora’s Cave. I had heard of them. I had even bought books from them. ‘When you finish it, send it to me.’ She said and sent me into a tailspin. I was entering my final year of University, how could I finish a book? I had no time. I had never written anything that long before. I never even contemplated trying to become published, I’m not good enough.
I’m not good enough.
Remember those words because they will come back to haunt me. It took me almost a year to finish Jack and Megan and that long to think of the title, Believe In The Magic. I dithered over sending it talking myself into and out of it too many times to count but eventually I did. Two days later I received an email offering me a contract. Seems someone thought I was good enough.
All The Firsts
When my first book came out I was flying high and when the first cheque arrived I kept my promise to myself and used it to travel across the Atlantic to the Romantic Times Convention. I had been living it vicariously through various email groups for a few years and had always wanted to go. I wanted to meet the people who had been so supportive of me in person and I really wanted to meet all the authors I had grown to love. When I put on the badge saying published author for the first time I felt like nothing could get better. I was wrong, the next day my publisher surprised me with a box of my books in print. I sat on the floor in a corner of the room with the chaos of other Ellora’s Cave authors stuffing promo in bags around me and I breathed in the scent of those books and I cried. It’s difficult to describe how much that meant to me. I love ebooks. I love the convenience of them, the instant gratification that comes from finding a book at buying it and reading even if it’s 2am, not to mention that they are usually cheaper and as an author I love that I get more royalties from them. But there is nothing like holding that paper copy in your hand. It brings so many memories of my childhood and all the time I spent wandering among the bookshelves. Ebooks are the future but they will never replace print.
There were a lot more firsts at the Convention that year. First time someone recognised me, first time someone asked me to sign something just for the pleasure of having my signature, first book signing, first time I saw my book on a bookshelf in a store. I met so many friends I had made online as well as many new ones. It was an experience that guaranteed my attendance at the Romantic Times Convention every year for as long as I could afford it.
The Great Depression
I came home from my first Romantic Times Convention inspired and ready to write the second book but my personal life had changed. I had been forced to move away from my friends and family to work and the job was far from perfect. We were short staffed and a job that is stressful at the best of times was made worse because I was inexperienced and the support I needed wasn’t there. I was travelling 400 miles every week and working full time. Eventually my days off weren’t enough, I was tired all the time and had to force myself to get out of bed every day. I lost a lot of weight. I caught every cold flu and minor ailment that came my way. All my emotions were close to the surface and I just never felt well. I was miserable my writing was one of the first things to suffer. I had no motivation to open up that document and when I did I would sit and stare at that blinking cursor and nothing would come to me. It took all my energy to keep going, I had none left to be creative. I felt isolated and alone. For almost a year things piled on top of me until I couldn’t see the light anymore and I was just going through the motions. I knew something was wrong I just didn’t know what so I went to my GP. At the end of the consultation my doctor said ‘Do you think you could be depressed?’
My first reaction was denial. Of course I wasn’t depressed. Even working in the medical field I had falling for the stereotypes and I didn’t fit them. I left the doctor’s office scoffing at the whole idea. Deep down I knew he was right but it was a label I didn’t want. Soon afterwards a series of awful experiences at work made me re-evaluate my life. I admitted to myself that my doctor might have been right. I couldn’t continue on the way I was going for very much longer, I needed my family, I needed to be home. Within 4 months I had found a new job, it meant a pay cut and a daily commute of 90 miles but it didn’t matter. I moved home, joined a gym and even went so far as cutting my waist length hair to my shoulders. It took a while but with the support of my friends and family I began to reclaim my life, pulled my creativity out of the black hole and started writing again.
The Only Way Is Up
I wish I could say that everything went smoothly after all of those changes but it’s seldom as simple as that. The second book was finished in my initial burst of renewed energy but it wasn’t long before life got in the way again. I was closer to home but I was still working full time twelve hour shifts, mixing days and nights. It was difficult to keep my motivation when all I wanted to do on my days off was relax. Some weeks I was writing nothing and some I was only managing a few hundred words. I spoke to other writers about how they managed to work full time and write as well and all had different strategies. The common theme was 'write something everyday' otherwise it’s harder to maintain your forward momentum. I eventually finished a novella and sent it off only for it to be rejected. It stung but I figured it was my turn and the book perhaps didn’t fit. I rewrote the novella submitted it again to two different publishers and was again turned down. Those horrible words I asked you to remember started creeping into my head.
I’m not good enough.
I decided to take a break from writing for a while, focusing on work and other things until eventually the stories and characters started niggling at me again. Write me, write me. I joined Twitter and far from being a distraction, I found that seeing other writers talk about their craft and posting when they were writing was making the urge to get back to it stronger. They encouraged each other and shared word counts and I found that I wasn’t all that different. That some did only manage a few hundred words a day and rejoiced in it. We won’t talk about the ones who write five to ten thousand. Eventually I joined in. Since their voices were the loudest I pulled out the much rejected novella and totally re-wrote it. In the process I fell in love with the characters even more, pouring my heart into the story and finding joy in creating it. I shared it with my proofreaders and they loved the story as much as I did. The confidence I had lost was restored, this time they would find their place.
The Big Rejection
I suppose the title of this entry kind of gives it away. The novella didn’t find its place. This time when I submitted it, it got a hard rejection. Not just a form letter or a ‘sorry not right for this project’ or ‘if you re-write this’. This time it was thanks but no thanks, I didn’t like it. Also included was a helpful breakdown of all the things they didn’t like and no positives. I was devastated. I felt like I had put everything I had into the story, had had such confidence in it and it wasn’t good enough. Yep. There are those words again. They just keep coming back to haunt me.
It was at this time that I had what I like to call the online meltdown. I was terrifically upset and I wasn’t in a place where I could hide it. I tried to be objective, to let it go over my head but every time I read that email all I heard was ‘you’re not good enough’. I was ready to quit. Why would I keep putting myself through the wringer like this?
Yeah, I hear you all shouting at your PC and trust me, if I had been on the outside I would have done the same. I had lost sight of the fact that I was in a better place than some in the same situation. I had two books published already. Everyone was supportive but there were quite a few offers to kick my ass for being so negative. So why would anyone keep going? The answer is obvious but I wasn’t in a place where I could see it yet.
Never Give Up
It took a week before I was able to pull myself together after the big rejection and answer my own question. I would keep going not because I might find someone to publish another book or because I had already had some measure of success already or even to prove that I could. Those are good reasons but not the best one. I would keep going because I’m a writer and I can’t do otherwise.
I’d love to say I don’t care whether I’m ever published again but it would be a lie. Of course I care. Even before I started this crazy journey part of the joy of creating new worlds and characters was sharing them with others, even if it was just my grandparents. However I’m going to try not to let the bumps in the road get in the way. It would be nice to finish with the news that I have had another book contracted but I am still working on that.
Every writer’s journey is different and we all have obstacles to overcome. My biggest is self doubt. I’m sure I’ll never get rid of that hateful voice that says I’m not good enough but I am learning to embrace it. I have to listen just enough to keep my work improving and not enough for it to steal my confidence again. This is the story so far of my writing life, thank you for letting me share it.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred minutes…”
My husband directs theatre in real life. For the past several weeks he’s been in rehearsals for RENT, one of Broadway’s longest-running musicals. He works with Geneva Theatre Guild in Geneva, NY and their performances are at the Smith Opera House, a nineteenth century structure that came alive in a very different way this past weekend.
Several things struck me as I watched, enjoyed and participated in the performances of truly gifted singers, musicians and technicians. One, I love live theatre even more than I love the movies. Two, the struggle of life – of love and friendships – is a timeless theme that never grows old. And three, I really, really, really want to write a play that speaks to an audience the way RENT spoke to me.
Caveat: I am not a RENThead. I saw it on Broadway with my husband about three months before it closed and the show was dated and tired. I saw the movie in the theatre and enjoyed it; we bought the DVD and its still in the plastic, unopened. So my comments are not based on a fanatical devotion to one musical but rather based on the ability of theatre to teach, to entertain and to broaden one’s philosophies.
As I sat in the audience last night (Saturday) and watched the “family” break apart, I found myself thinking about what makes one play better than the next one and realized it’s the same elusive, amorphous “thing” that sets one novel over others. Every one of us has a book that we read again and again, finding new “stuff” each time until we know every character, every word, every theme. I’m no closer to determining what that “thing” is now than I was before, but I can tell you RENT has it. So does ROMEO AND JULIET. And PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. And FRANKENSTEIN. And…you fill in the blank with the novel/play that spoke to you.
Several years ago I wrote a short scene between John Adams and Private White of Boston Massacre fame. A few months ago I dug it out and re-read it. Concept is great, execution? Not so much. Needs work. A LOT of work. This morning I started the scene that would need to precede that one and found myself digging into 1770 Boston and the men whose opinions helped to form our country. They had a lot to say and some of it bears repeating in these unsettled times.
So, I have the inspiration (thank you to my husband and his cast and crew of RENT), I have an outline (thanks to the work I started years ago) and I’m ready to give it a shot. A new medium and a new experiment…but isn’t that what makes life worth living?
And, if I’m being honest with myself, listening to Roger sing “One Song, Glory” struck a chord so deep inside me I don’t look very often. “One [book]. One [play] before I go…Find glory in a [book] that rings true, truth like a blazing fire, an eternal flame...”
Maybe its time I wrote from my heart again…
Play safe,
Diana
Several things struck me as I watched, enjoyed and participated in the performances of truly gifted singers, musicians and technicians. One, I love live theatre even more than I love the movies. Two, the struggle of life – of love and friendships – is a timeless theme that never grows old. And three, I really, really, really want to write a play that speaks to an audience the way RENT spoke to me.
Caveat: I am not a RENThead. I saw it on Broadway with my husband about three months before it closed and the show was dated and tired. I saw the movie in the theatre and enjoyed it; we bought the DVD and its still in the plastic, unopened. So my comments are not based on a fanatical devotion to one musical but rather based on the ability of theatre to teach, to entertain and to broaden one’s philosophies.
As I sat in the audience last night (Saturday) and watched the “family” break apart, I found myself thinking about what makes one play better than the next one and realized it’s the same elusive, amorphous “thing” that sets one novel over others. Every one of us has a book that we read again and again, finding new “stuff” each time until we know every character, every word, every theme. I’m no closer to determining what that “thing” is now than I was before, but I can tell you RENT has it. So does ROMEO AND JULIET. And PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. And FRANKENSTEIN. And…you fill in the blank with the novel/play that spoke to you.
Several years ago I wrote a short scene between John Adams and Private White of Boston Massacre fame. A few months ago I dug it out and re-read it. Concept is great, execution? Not so much. Needs work. A LOT of work. This morning I started the scene that would need to precede that one and found myself digging into 1770 Boston and the men whose opinions helped to form our country. They had a lot to say and some of it bears repeating in these unsettled times.
So, I have the inspiration (thank you to my husband and his cast and crew of RENT), I have an outline (thanks to the work I started years ago) and I’m ready to give it a shot. A new medium and a new experiment…but isn’t that what makes life worth living?
And, if I’m being honest with myself, listening to Roger sing “One Song, Glory” struck a chord so deep inside me I don’t look very often. “One [book]. One [play] before I go…Find glory in a [book] that rings true, truth like a blazing fire, an eternal flame...”
Maybe its time I wrote from my heart again…
Play safe,
Diana
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Two Lovers for Molly
I have a new release from Ellora's Cave coming out this Friday, July 9th. Yay! Two Lovers for Molly is the third book in my Lavender Lace series, and wraps up the series with everyone getting their happily-ever-after.
I hope you enjoy this spicy excerpt.
Lynn
* * * * *
She looked from Lane to Julian and back again. "Julian started to tell me about the morning after your night with Claire. I want to know about that."
"Okay."
Julian sat close to Molly and slipped his arm around her shoulders. She could feel him playing with her hair, yet she focused her attention on Lane's mouth as he spoke.
"I'd been dating Claire for about a month when Julian came over for dinner." He glanced at the other man. "Julian and his girlfriend had recently broken up and I figured it was my duty as his best friend to get him drunk."
Julian chuckled as he nuzzled behind her ear. "He did a damn good job of it too."
"Were you sloshed?"
"And then some."
Molly returned her attention to Lane when he slipped his hands beneath her skirt. He went no higher than her knees, but his touch on her skin quickened her breathing.
"Claire was a flirt and loved attention. When Julian went to the bathroom, I told her she should kiss him. Her eyes lit up like fireworks. One kiss led to another, and soon clothes started coming off."
Julian tugged her closer. She leaned against him, her back to his chest. His hand slipped down and released the first button on her blouse. Lane watched Julian's hand for a moment before continuing.
"The three of us spent a wild night together. I doubt if there was a position we didn't try."
Julian nipped the side of her neck while his fingers danced over the flesh spilling out of her bra.
Lane continued to watch Julian's fingers. He slid his hands beneath Molly's knees and pulled them far enough apart so he could slip his knees between hers.
The second button on her blouse came loose.
"Claire and I had a fight the next morning." Lane's warm hands caressed the backs of her knees, down her shins and up to the top of her thighs, still beneath her skirt. Molly's heart began a stuttering tattoo in her chest. "I don't remember what it was about. She left in a huff and I went back to the bedroom with Julian."
Julian unfastened the third button and pulled her blouse open. He groaned softly. "Damn, you're wearing a red bra."
"I bought it today." Her voice came out sounding soft and breathless. She gasped when Julian cradled her breasts.
Lane's hands crawled higher up her thighs. "Are you wearing panties to match?"
She nodded. "A thong."
"A thong?" Julian asked, the surprise evident in his question. He squeezed her breasts as he buried his face against her neck. "God, I have to see your ass in that."
Molly didn't respond. Her voice ceased to work when Lane's fingers brushed her pussy through the thong. He moved to the edge of the coffee table, using his knees to push her legs farther apart, and ran his thumbs back and forth over her clit.
Pleasure rippled through her body. She sat there, on the verge of a climax and they all still wore their clothes.
"Do you want to know what I did then?" Lane asked.
Molly didn't care, not as long as he kept caressing her clit and Julian kept tugging on her nipples. Without her realizing it, Julian had unhooked the front closure of her bra. "Wh-what did you do?"
"I sucked his cock."
I hope you enjoy this spicy excerpt.
Lynn
* * * * *
She looked from Lane to Julian and back again. "Julian started to tell me about the morning after your night with Claire. I want to know about that."
"Okay."
Julian sat close to Molly and slipped his arm around her shoulders. She could feel him playing with her hair, yet she focused her attention on Lane's mouth as he spoke.
"I'd been dating Claire for about a month when Julian came over for dinner." He glanced at the other man. "Julian and his girlfriend had recently broken up and I figured it was my duty as his best friend to get him drunk."
Julian chuckled as he nuzzled behind her ear. "He did a damn good job of it too."
"Were you sloshed?"
"And then some."
Molly returned her attention to Lane when he slipped his hands beneath her skirt. He went no higher than her knees, but his touch on her skin quickened her breathing.
"Claire was a flirt and loved attention. When Julian went to the bathroom, I told her she should kiss him. Her eyes lit up like fireworks. One kiss led to another, and soon clothes started coming off."
Julian tugged her closer. She leaned against him, her back to his chest. His hand slipped down and released the first button on her blouse. Lane watched Julian's hand for a moment before continuing.
"The three of us spent a wild night together. I doubt if there was a position we didn't try."
Julian nipped the side of her neck while his fingers danced over the flesh spilling out of her bra.
Lane continued to watch Julian's fingers. He slid his hands beneath Molly's knees and pulled them far enough apart so he could slip his knees between hers.
The second button on her blouse came loose.
"Claire and I had a fight the next morning." Lane's warm hands caressed the backs of her knees, down her shins and up to the top of her thighs, still beneath her skirt. Molly's heart began a stuttering tattoo in her chest. "I don't remember what it was about. She left in a huff and I went back to the bedroom with Julian."
Julian unfastened the third button and pulled her blouse open. He groaned softly. "Damn, you're wearing a red bra."
"I bought it today." Her voice came out sounding soft and breathless. She gasped when Julian cradled her breasts.
Lane's hands crawled higher up her thighs. "Are you wearing panties to match?"
She nodded. "A thong."
"A thong?" Julian asked, the surprise evident in his question. He squeezed her breasts as he buried his face against her neck. "God, I have to see your ass in that."
Molly didn't respond. Her voice ceased to work when Lane's fingers brushed her pussy through the thong. He moved to the edge of the coffee table, using his knees to push her legs farther apart, and ran his thumbs back and forth over her clit.
Pleasure rippled through her body. She sat there, on the verge of a climax and they all still wore their clothes.
"Do you want to know what I did then?" Lane asked.
Molly didn't care, not as long as he kept caressing her clit and Julian kept tugging on her nipples. Without her realizing it, Julian had unhooked the front closure of her bra. "Wh-what did you do?"
"I sucked his cock."
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Gadget Geek and the Reading Revelation
So, I’ve discovered I’m more of a Gadget Geek than I expected or wanted to acknowledge. I’ve never been one who needed the latest toy. My computer is almost ten years old. My phone is the first of the 3G generation (that’s old in phone life). But I needed the latest toy…the iPad.
Now, I know it does pretty much the same things that my phone does, except work as a phone, but I wanted one. It was so cute and sleek. And I have to confess, I love it. Don’t worry, this isn’t a promo for the iPad but more the revelation that it represents.
I justified the purchase by saying I wanted/needed an e-reader and couldn't find what I was looking for. My first task was to download 3 e-reader apps (Kindle, Barnes & Noble and iBooks) plus a PDF reader so I can transfer all the books that I’ve already purchased.
The first night I got my iPad, I downloaded Amanda Quick’s The Burning Lamp and J.R. Ward’s Lover Avenged. In the week following, I bought and read another five books.
Now, I’m a big reader but in the past year, I’ve steered away from buying books. Lately I’ve been unwilling to try a new author. It’s like I’ve lost my sense of adventure. I don’t want to be disappointed so I’ve just stuck with familiar names, never branching out and walking out of the bookstore more often than not empty-handed. The e-reader seems to have inspired me, I feel more willing to take a risk. I’ve bought books and tried authors I never would have considered before.
Part of what I love about e-books is the instant gratification. When I want a new book, it’s just clicks away and poof, it’s loaded on my device. And I can act on recommendations. Recently, I was on vacation with my sister and she told me about a book she’d read and enjoyed. While we were talking, I went to Amazon and bought it, downloading it in less than a minute. Normally, I would have listened to her recommendation and mostly likely forgotten the name of the author or the book. Now, I have a new author to try.
I’m also thinking this will reduce the clutter a bit around my house. The paper books (read and to-be-read) pile up quickly, don’t they? When a book is a computer file, if I don’t enjoy it, I don’t feel compelled to give it away or sell it to a used book store. I just delete it. Instant clean up…I love it.
Being an e-book author, I read a lot of e-books and that means I’ve spent a lot…a lot…of hours sitting in front of my computer hitting the arrow and next page buttons. It was fine but not terribly conducive to reading before bed. Now, I crawl into bed with my e-reader and stack of new e-books and read until my eyes start to close.
And no matter what e-reader you have you can find some free (and legal!) books out there. I’ve recently been enjoying Ellora’s Caves Naughty Nooners. It’s a great way to discover new authors (Scribe sister Lynn LaFleur has one out…”Door Prize”. It was good fun!).
I haven’t completely abandoned paperback and hardcover. I have a few authors I just like to see sitting on my shelf but I’m a big fan of the e-reader. I feel like I’ve rediscovered the joy of reading.
Now, I know it does pretty much the same things that my phone does, except work as a phone, but I wanted one. It was so cute and sleek. And I have to confess, I love it. Don’t worry, this isn’t a promo for the iPad but more the revelation that it represents.
I justified the purchase by saying I wanted/needed an e-reader and couldn't find what I was looking for. My first task was to download 3 e-reader apps (Kindle, Barnes & Noble and iBooks) plus a PDF reader so I can transfer all the books that I’ve already purchased.
The first night I got my iPad, I downloaded Amanda Quick’s The Burning Lamp and J.R. Ward’s Lover Avenged. In the week following, I bought and read another five books.
Now, I’m a big reader but in the past year, I’ve steered away from buying books. Lately I’ve been unwilling to try a new author. It’s like I’ve lost my sense of adventure. I don’t want to be disappointed so I’ve just stuck with familiar names, never branching out and walking out of the bookstore more often than not empty-handed. The e-reader seems to have inspired me, I feel more willing to take a risk. I’ve bought books and tried authors I never would have considered before.
Part of what I love about e-books is the instant gratification. When I want a new book, it’s just clicks away and poof, it’s loaded on my device. And I can act on recommendations. Recently, I was on vacation with my sister and she told me about a book she’d read and enjoyed. While we were talking, I went to Amazon and bought it, downloading it in less than a minute. Normally, I would have listened to her recommendation and mostly likely forgotten the name of the author or the book. Now, I have a new author to try.
I’m also thinking this will reduce the clutter a bit around my house. The paper books (read and to-be-read) pile up quickly, don’t they? When a book is a computer file, if I don’t enjoy it, I don’t feel compelled to give it away or sell it to a used book store. I just delete it. Instant clean up…I love it.
Being an e-book author, I read a lot of e-books and that means I’ve spent a lot…a lot…of hours sitting in front of my computer hitting the arrow and next page buttons. It was fine but not terribly conducive to reading before bed. Now, I crawl into bed with my e-reader and stack of new e-books and read until my eyes start to close.
And no matter what e-reader you have you can find some free (and legal!) books out there. I’ve recently been enjoying Ellora’s Caves Naughty Nooners. It’s a great way to discover new authors (Scribe sister Lynn LaFleur has one out…”Door Prize”. It was good fun!).
I haven’t completely abandoned paperback and hardcover. I have a few authors I just like to see sitting on my shelf but I’m a big fan of the e-reader. I feel like I’ve rediscovered the joy of reading.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Saturday, June 20, 2010
Sunday approached quickly this past week for me. I met it with a bit of trepidation simply because one of the busiest times of our working year is just ahead. Because we own a pizza business, I’ve been on a continuous exhausting roll leading up to the Fourth of July. This coming holiday requires that we begin to prepare a month in advance. Decisions to make, extra hours for all the prepping…it just seems to build like a threatening thunderstorm on the horizon. My husband and I have to force the mindset because basically we’ll work everyday until the 4th is over and we’ll have to disregard our long hours and just plow forward. It’s a little tough for me to back off and find some time to relax.
But this June 20th ended up being a celebration (one that I cooked for, cleaned for…you get the picture!) First off, it was Father’s Day. My dad will be 77 next month. He’s really slowed down due to some surgeries. He’s really aged the past few years and suddenly I truly looked forward to having a party at my house to celebrate all the fathers in the family. It turned out to be a gorgeous day with the sun shining and just a light wind to cool us off. Everyone turned out and we sat on the patio with kids, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and numerous family dogs racing about. Throw in a few drinks and some bocceball, a trip across the road to the lake for all those aforementioned to cool off with a dip, and of course a meal that put everyone but the kids flat on their butts in a comfy lawnchair, and I have to say it was one of the best days we’ve had in a long time.
I watched my dad with his youngest great-grandchild in his lap (Alex just turned one). He’d sing a Finnish song to him and the little guy would start humming back with a big smile in his near toothless mouth. Cracked us all up – especially my dad! And also made me hope that next Father’s Day we could repeat the day with no one missing among our continually growing family. It’s my dad’s biggest dream to be here in the future and celebrate his great-grandchildren’s life experiences. It’s kinda funny to see where he’s evolved through the years. My dad was a tough ‘coot’ to grow up with. No-nonsense and adhering to a strict straight-line path of obedience. Thank god he worked two or three jobs to support all of us and give us the best education that he could or there was a good possibility there would have been an uprising with me and my sister’s at the helm! Now he just shakes his head and can’t imagine that he ‘spawned’ the outspoken women that he did. LOL. And now he’s an active member of his descendant’s lives, finally having the time in his later retired years to enjoy what he created.
I also hit another milestone yesterday. It was mine and Jeff’s 35th wedding anniversary. We woke up yesterday and just looked at each other and wondered how in hell we got to this point. How does that happen? How does life pass by so quickly that suddenly we’re able to look back and write mental pages of our own life and the many things that happened along the way? It seems like we just got married and we’re heralding the birth of our first son! Now suddenly we’re at the point where we’ve raised our three kids and now they’re repeating the same process. I don’t feel any older…well, that’s a bit of a falsehood. I’m more in the phase of my body aging but my mind resisting! But I’m not near ready to lie down and just coast through this last phase. I’ve still got a lot of unchecked items on my personal bucket list (one which was to get this blog written and posted – teehee).
So in lieu of our 35 years together, I’d like to spotlight my very first erotic romance, Payton’s Passion. It’s about a couple who are on the verge of becoming very bored with one another, whose passion has waned due to work commitments, kids, and responsibilities, and how the two find their way back to what drew them to each other in the first place. Hope you’ll get a chance to pick this book up!
So to all the fathers, a happy belated Father’s Day to you all! And to myself? Hell, I’m searching for that purple heart I had on yesterday, this a reference to my thirty-five years with the same guy! You all have a great week!
Hugs and aging kisses, Ruby
But this June 20th ended up being a celebration (one that I cooked for, cleaned for…you get the picture!) First off, it was Father’s Day. My dad will be 77 next month. He’s really slowed down due to some surgeries. He’s really aged the past few years and suddenly I truly looked forward to having a party at my house to celebrate all the fathers in the family. It turned out to be a gorgeous day with the sun shining and just a light wind to cool us off. Everyone turned out and we sat on the patio with kids, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and numerous family dogs racing about. Throw in a few drinks and some bocceball, a trip across the road to the lake for all those aforementioned to cool off with a dip, and of course a meal that put everyone but the kids flat on their butts in a comfy lawnchair, and I have to say it was one of the best days we’ve had in a long time.
I watched my dad with his youngest great-grandchild in his lap (Alex just turned one). He’d sing a Finnish song to him and the little guy would start humming back with a big smile in his near toothless mouth. Cracked us all up – especially my dad! And also made me hope that next Father’s Day we could repeat the day with no one missing among our continually growing family. It’s my dad’s biggest dream to be here in the future and celebrate his great-grandchildren’s life experiences. It’s kinda funny to see where he’s evolved through the years. My dad was a tough ‘coot’ to grow up with. No-nonsense and adhering to a strict straight-line path of obedience. Thank god he worked two or three jobs to support all of us and give us the best education that he could or there was a good possibility there would have been an uprising with me and my sister’s at the helm! Now he just shakes his head and can’t imagine that he ‘spawned’ the outspoken women that he did. LOL. And now he’s an active member of his descendant’s lives, finally having the time in his later retired years to enjoy what he created.
I also hit another milestone yesterday. It was mine and Jeff’s 35th wedding anniversary. We woke up yesterday and just looked at each other and wondered how in hell we got to this point. How does that happen? How does life pass by so quickly that suddenly we’re able to look back and write mental pages of our own life and the many things that happened along the way? It seems like we just got married and we’re heralding the birth of our first son! Now suddenly we’re at the point where we’ve raised our three kids and now they’re repeating the same process. I don’t feel any older…well, that’s a bit of a falsehood. I’m more in the phase of my body aging but my mind resisting! But I’m not near ready to lie down and just coast through this last phase. I’ve still got a lot of unchecked items on my personal bucket list (one which was to get this blog written and posted – teehee).
So in lieu of our 35 years together, I’d like to spotlight my very first erotic romance, Payton’s Passion. It’s about a couple who are on the verge of becoming very bored with one another, whose passion has waned due to work commitments, kids, and responsibilities, and how the two find their way back to what drew them to each other in the first place. Hope you’ll get a chance to pick this book up!
So to all the fathers, a happy belated Father’s Day to you all! And to myself? Hell, I’m searching for that purple heart I had on yesterday, this a reference to my thirty-five years with the same guy! You all have a great week!
Hugs and aging kisses, Ruby
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