Recently one of the ankle-biters sent a fan letter to his pigskin hero – it got me thinking… Should I write one too?

I read a faboo book (Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evie by Marianne Stillings) – I mean I really enjoyed the book. I laughed out loud in the waiting room of the PT – had heads turning in my direction. I was impressed that I kinda had it figured out but not entirely though one of the ideas I had was right on the money , but I talked myself out of it.

I thought about sending her a note telling her how much I enjoyed it – but then I didn’t. I realize that authors love to hear kudos for their work, but I felt kinda silly. Now put Nora in front of me and I gush like a looney-headed nimrod. But for some reason I felt weird about e-mailing Miss Stillings and letting her know. Here’s what I would have said:

I just wanted to drop you a line and let you know how much I enjoyed Midnight in the Garden… I was excited when I found the book as I really enjoyed The Damsel in this Dress a few years ago. I look forward to reading more from you in the future. 

Not so bad, so why do I feel silly?

I think we SHOULD tell other authors when we enjoy their work. We should always encourage and support other authors. I don’t mean that to sound condescending at all, but I think as authors we know it is a lonely job and it’s always nice to hear from people who know exactly what we’re going through!

So I will put on my big girl panties and send that sucker out today!

Get your minds out of the gutter!

I’m here to talk about my two free stories today! The first one really is called THAT F*CKING MUSE STORY and for a very good reason. I played hell writing it as part of an anthology. Then the publiser refused to negotiate their contract, so after writing it I ended up pulling it from the anthology.

I’ll admit THAT F*CKING MUSE STORY (kinda catchy huh?) was written with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek. You see Jeff Thompson, my hero, is a frustrated non-fiction writer and Poly-whats-her-name is the Muse of writers and hyms and stuff. On a scale of one to ten the heat factor is probably a 2

BUT WAIT, there’s MORE!!!!!!!!

There’s THE BIG GIRL’S GUIDE TO BUYING LINGERIE!! And it’s got sex, and rednecks and you guessed it, a heat factor of like six or seven! Okay, maybe I’m exagerating but it is pretty hot stuff
Here’s a blurb:
After a disastrous marital near-miss Jade Ballard retreats to San Antonio, cutting herself off from the world in general and more specifically her family’s country club lifestyle, which she no longer wants any part of. She takes comfort in food and eventually, the safety of an internet love affair.

Rowdy Yates is a semi-reformed womanizer who’s leery of long-term entanglements. Until Jade, he never seriously considered anything beyond a “Wife-For-A-Night.” After months of flirting on the internet the couple meets, only to discover they already know one another. Rowdy has always mistaken Jade’s shy reserved nature for snobbishness, and Jade has always viewed the woman-loving Rowdy as a redneck casanova. But the months they spent getting to know one another formed an attraction neither can fight.

So stay tuned they’ll both be available tomorrow!

You’ve heard the legends.  Wondered about it.  Read about it, and maybe, MAYBE, if you’re one of The Chosen Ones, you’ve even experienced it.  It goes by many names, is rarely discussed in polite society (even by us Southern gals), but you know all about it.  It is…

THE MAGIC DICK.

You probably first heard about it as an adolescent.  Your classmates whispered and giggled to each other, all members of some secret society.  And then you began to hear the stories.  Apparently, this Dick guy, whoever he was, could do incredible things for a girl! 

If you’ve read any number of Romances, you know what I’m talking about.  It’s the dick that can seduce the most virtuous virgin, or the most experienced whore.  The dick so gooood it can make you lose all common sense.  The dick that can drive a woman to drink, drugs–even murder.  The dick that can dictate a man’s worth–even make him a leader of his people (unless he uses cigars instead, but we won’t go there…) 

Forget about spells, makeovers, plastic surgery or “finding yourself”.  The sweet spot is really what it’s all about.

Are you a plain, ordinary Jane?  With THE MAGIC DICK, you too can become beautiful instantly!

Frigid?  You need THE MAGIC DICK!  Within two pages, you’re as hot and horny as they come, baby! 

Got an invalid husband, secret baby, lesbian lover?  Ditch ‘em!  THE MAGIC DICK will set you free.

Scared, uncertain, on the run, being haunted by ghosts/ghoulies/vamps/IRS auditors?  Not to worry!  Get a taste of THE MAGIC DICK, girlfriend, and you’ll know EXACTLY which way to go–follow that manroot! 

THE MAGIC DICK will resolve all your problems.  No more worries about the bills, blood-sucking families, the future.  Your life will magically become a Disney movie.  Okay, maybe an X-rated Disney film in which Mickey shows ya what he’s got to match those big hands, but hey–it works!  And the bestest part about THE MAGIC DICK is that even if you ARE still trapped in the second circle of Hell–you won’t care!  As long as THE MAGIC DICK is there with you.

Sometimes THE MAGIC DICK is actually attached to something.  Something pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things.  At best, that something may be heroic, loving, and have an I.Q. above that of a kumquat.  At worst, it may even wash occasionally.  Doesn’t matter, don’t tax your pretty little brain cells about it.  Just give it a lick of the stick, baby, and you’ll live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, I have never personally encountered THE MAGIC DICK.  But I haven’t given up.

After all–I KNOW it’s out there.

All the books say so. 

So… I was sitting here wondering what the bloody hell to blog about this week when it suddenly hit me.

Self promotion.

Which is a necessary evil. Especially when you’re e-published like me.

Hell, I’m still not sure what I’m doing when it comes to self promotion so you know what? I’m like Indiana Jones. I make it up as I go.

I think self promotion is a vital part of keeping your sales up as an e-published author. And I’m a big fan of epub because (1) you get your name out there and (2) you get to keep your title and (3) if you can get your foot in the door with a good editor, you can usually stay published.

Is there a method to my madness? Possibly. Either that or I’ve had one too many Cosmopolitans. What I have I done to keep my name out there, you may ask?

I blog. A lot. And at several places. THIS is one of them (ahem, have you added us to your favorites yet? If not, WHY not?). I also blog at my own place daily and I’m a freelancer over at ShoeIQ on Mondays.

Okay so that was a bit of shameless self promotion - but hey, you read it right? And now you’re thinking that maybe you want to check them right? Maybe? Humor me. ;)

Anyway - blogging and commenting on blogs is a vital part of keeping yourself active in the online community as well as keeping yourself visible. More than likely, you’ll get hits back to your own site simply by commenting on other blogs. And if it doesn’t happen right away - don’t despair. Just keep on keeping on with the commenting on blogs and you’ll get the return hits.

Of course, I should really take my own advice. But when working and mothering takes over, it’s hard to find that time to hit all the blogs I want to. But I’ll get there. Eventually! 

In the meantime… have you visited your favorite blogs today? ;)

I, myself, am pleasntly plump. I can admit it. I have curves (lots of curves) in all the right places - and I like heriones to also. But I cannot tell you how many books I have read when she is thin, but with big boobs - lest we forget the boobs, but almost always under a size eight.

I find that interesting as the national average size for a woman is a fourteen - hmm…

Do women like to read about these thin gals? Don’t get me wrong, I realize there are thin women - I happen to know a few, some are even my friends. But I don’t always wanna read about that. I want to read about women that are padded and perfect and kick major ass, too. I want a herione I can image myself being, not someone I’d have to starve to get down to. I want more realism - that kicks major ass. Is that wrong?

It reminds me of the new Dove ads - be you, don’t be what stereotype that you think you are supposed to be. Why can’t a Lane Bryant decked girl kick some ass, save the world, and get the guy.

There are obviously guys that like woman they can hold to (hello - I am married - with 4 tots - which does account for some of the padding - but I digress).

I will admit, I have my share of 115 lb characters - mostly in my early work. I thought you had to write to type - but now my gals are borrowing my T’s, kicking ass and getting the guys.

Spinning off Raine’s hero post from Friday and a comment left over at Lipstick Chronicles, which if you haven’t checked it out is one of my favorite blogs to visit, I’m going to talk about heroines.

Can a morally conflicted heroine sell books? I’ll be honest and say I like morally ambiguous characters (ie hooker with a heart of gold, reluctant vampire etc). Why? Because it’s more like real life. I guess ‘like real life’ and hookers and vampires and escapism and enjoyment don’t all mesh real well, but stick with me. We are morally ambiguous and for that matter, life is morally ambiguous, and by that I mean shades of grey not black and white.

I realize I may be the exception and not the rule since many people will emphatically state they read for escapism. Whereas I think I read for entertainment. Is there a difference? Yeah, but that’s another blog post :)

I tend to write heroines people can relate to. I like reading about heroines that feel like my neighbor down the street or a girl I went to school with. I read Whores on the Hill a while back and it was like reading a trainwreck (and it’s literary fiction which I don’t normally read) about teenagers who make a bunch of dubious choices but it was fascinating and I had to keep reading and I couldn’t look away. It was an exasperating exercise but I stuck with it to see how the writer pulled it off. Something I rarely do.

One of my all time favorite heroines is from Mary Kay Andrews’ Little Bitty Lies and in the book the heroine, whose husband leaves her high and dry with no money and a ton of debt, tries to fake his death to collect a very tiny insurance policy. Her best friend helps and it’s absolutely hysterical but it’s a morally ambiguous move.

My point? You don’t necessarily have to like a chracter but you have to be fascinated by them whether they’re a Catholic school girl smoking and having sex way too young or a woman faking her husband’s death because she’s broke and has NO job skills or whether she’s the bad girl with a heart of gold or a bisexual heroine who leads the hero down a path some might consider sexually depraved…Or whether you’re writing about a Peeping Thomasina :)

—————————
You can see the video mentioned at LSC here, Malcolm Gladwell on predicting movie hits.

Let’s talk heroes.  Let’s talk loving ‘em.

Let’s talk letdown.

I’ve just finished reading two romance novels.  Written by popular authors whose names are unimportant to this discussion.  What IS important is that by the time I finished, I was thoroughly disappointed.

Why?

Because the heroes didn’t live up to the images they initially promised–at least, in my mind.

I’ll be up-front and confess that I LOVE IMPERFECT HEROES.  Give me a super-nice guy with a straight-laced job and thoughts as pure as the driven snow, and I am B-O-R-E-D. (Unless I’m writing him myself, in which case you can be sure I plan to corrupt him–but that’s another blog).  Give me the shady guys, the ones with a past, the ‘bad boys’ or whatever you wanna call ‘em, and you’ve got my interest right off the bat.

HOWEVER…

If, for example, you begin your story by telling me this guy has a rep for being a lady’s man and has screwed everything with a pulse within 75 miles, his attitude and behavior damn well better reflect that rep.  I don’t want to get fifty pages into the book only to discover that yeah, maybe he did those things, but in his heart of hearts he was disgusted with himself and really just wanted that one special woman… 

And PLEASE don’t introduce him as a tough guy who’s rough, without conscience, done it all and relished doing it–then have him become a squeaky-clean Boy Scout overnight, due to the love of that one special woman… 

In the first place, you’ve lied to me.  And I don’t like it.  You’ve invited me into your restaurant and led me to expect prime rib when you’re really serving spam on crackers.

Secondly–and yes, I know it’s romantic fantasy–but it also fuels a dangerous mythology, one that’s haunted embittered women for centuries:  the idea that this man must be molded and shaped, that if you could just change this ONE THING about him he’d be the perfect guy, and all it takes is the RIGHT WOMAN… 

We all know the rest of that fantasy.  And let’s be honest.  It would never just be “one thing”, now would it?  Change a little here, a little there…

And as long as we’re being honest, let’s admit that, if he initiated every change we suggested, eventually he’d be so boring and predictable we’d find any excuse we could to sneak out of the house to meet…

Yep.  That bad boy. 

I’ve got nothing against a bad boy changing for the better; and if it’s for love, better still.  And yes, the love of a good woman can do wonders.  But please, authors–if you MUST change your prime rib, at least do so gradually, and leave it rare, not overdone, or I’ll figure the chef’s not to be trusted and probably never eat at your restaurant again.

Check?

Why do we women obsess about things? Especially things that come in male packages?

Recently I had a conversation with a male friend over drinks. We were discussing the female mind and an email he got once that showed how it worked and that it was one big maze. He said his wife told him the balls should not all be silver, but be different colors to represent different emotions.

Even though I was laughing, I knew it was true. And so I related a little story about female obsession.

I think we can all relate to this, can’t we? All of us, that is, if we’re female.

Anyway.

I’m dating a restaurant manager who’s super cute and very funny. We have fun together but the only problem is getting together. With his wacky schedule and mine, it’s hard to date each other.

But I digress…

So we met on a Wednesday night. I had lunch at his restaurant the following Tuesday. He asked for my phone number. I got back to the office and discussed with my co-worker/friend that he would probably abide by the Man Rule and wait at least three days to call me. Right? Right.

I wait three days and nothing. I’m starting to wonder if I should call.

Day Four. Still no call. What the hell? Why hasn’t he called?

Day Five. Maybe he lost my phone number. Should I call? Maybe I shouldn’t call. I don’t want to seem over-anxious. I like him. He was cute. At least I think he was cute…from what I remember. I’ve only seen him twice… maybe I shouldn’t call. But I want to call. I’m calling. No. I’m not. I’m going to wait. Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation for him not calling. Maybe he’s busy. He DOES work in restaurant management. He probably hasn’t had time to call.

Day Six. He’s lost my phone number. I just know it. He doesn’t work at that location. What am I going to do? He still hasn’t called. I have to find him if only to ask him why he hasn’t bothered to call. Luckily there are only four of those restaurants in this area. I’m calling every one of them. But first I’m going to start with the place I met him. He’s not there. What now? Knowing what I know about him – the general location of where he lives – I use my powers of geographic deduction and pick one. I hope it’s the right one. I pick up the phone but I chicken out. I email Best Good Friend and beg her to please call. She calls. He’s not there. WTF? What now? WHY HASN’T HE CALLED?

(meanwhile…I have a job and a kid and a house to move into)

Day Six Evening. I’m home. I’m staring at the website. I just know he works at that location but maybe he’s off work today. I pick up the phone. I take a deep breath. I call. The hostess answers and I ask for him. He’s not there but he’ll be back tomorrow.

Success! I know where he works. I’m officially a stalker. And I’ve recruited Best Good Friend to stalk with me. Sweet.

Day Seven. It’s 10:30 am. I’m thinking I should call him but I don’t want to call before the lunch rush. He’s probably busy. I should wait. I’m not calling. Yet. All I can think about all day long is whether or not he’s going to call me today. I decide he has a deadline of 2 pm. And then I’ll call. By 2:30 I’ve had it. I pick up the phone, dial the number with shaking fingers and get the hostess. I ask for him. She puts me on hold. My heart is in my throat. He gets on the line.

“Did you lose my number or what?”

He immediately knows who’s calling and greets me with a “Hey, gorgeous.”

And you know what? He really was cute. And he had no excuse for not calling other than he was busy and didn’t want to seem over-anxious. And I obsessed myself to death over it.

Sheesh. It sucks to be a woman sometimes.

See what we put ourselves through for a man? So, boys, be nice to your lady. CALL her for god’s sake. And don’t wait seven days!

This week’s free books are all my extra Catherine Coulter historicals! These are classics and some of my favorites…….

THE HELLION BRIDE PB first edition 1992
THE COURTSHIP PB circa 2000
ROSEHAVEN circa 1997
DEVIL’S DAUGHTER circa 1985
MAD JACK circa 1999

I think Mad Jack is the last one I read before she lost me :(

I got the Galley for Deadly Mistakes – I CANNOT tell you how EXCITING that is. December 19 is the print release date.

So next topic…

Amie once mentioned on her blog that she tends to write more when she reads more – kind of a food for thought, give and take maybe. I believe I may have scoffed at her (of course, not to her face so she doesn’t know that I did it) but the last few days I got my reading rhythm back. I used to read about 4or 5 books a week and got to the point recently where it was one book a month – that is a major slow down.

I haven’t been as productive in the writing department as of late (granted real life does tend to find a way to wiggle its ugly head into one’s creative wave and knock one off the board). But as I finished reading another book just this morning, I had ideas coming out the wazoo – not so painful after having gone through child birth four times but still can make it hard to sit for a day or two.

I actually had an epiphany the night before last (less painful but way messier) as I lay trying to count sheep, block out the dh’s TV and push the dog to the other side of the bed. Right then and there I came up with an entire post for the Chicas’ blog. However – being that I am quite lazy and halfway to rem – I forgot the entire thing by morning. It had something to do with my being pleasantly plump, mooing cows and aw hell I don’t even remember where that was going – though I have to tell you it was brilliant at the time ….

What I am trying to get at is last month, hell last week, I hadn’t read much and the epiphanies were few and far between. Now with several books in the ol’ word bank, I have a notepad and pencil next to the bed and a constant stream of ideas flowing.

(On a side note… Bad books are as detrimental as no books. That was part of my problem. I read two clunkers in a row. And I am one of those readers that loathe to put down a book. I will slog through putrid prose and horrifyingly stupid heroines to the end – mostly in part to that got-to-know gene that keeps people cross-eye with the zillions of questions I ask)