KEEP YOUR FINGERS CROSSED!

I have two projects approved by editors and moved onto the last layer of the approval process. Yes folks, it's nail biting time.

One is a novella for The Wild Rose Press's Love Letters line. The letter that changes a person's life must appear within the first three pages. Imagine all the possibilities! My hero's letter arrives by way of a tumbleweed.

Tumbleweeds were brought to the States from Russia by accident.
Their seeds were mixed in with flax seeds brought over by immigrants.

So keep your fingers crossed for Tumbleweed Letters that it earns final approval.

The band of terrorists in this series leave
a handprint of the victim's blood on a nearby wall.

The other project is a romantic suspense, book two of The Red Hand Conspiracy Series, and is set in both Paris and Budapest. Book one, already under contract, is Mona Lisa's Room. The second book currently awaiting final approval is Rain is a Love Song. I'm working on book three now--Jazzbeat of Surrender.

Rain is a Love Song shows more of my sense of humor than anything I've written to date. Gwen and Jean-Luc just brought it out of me. I had such fun writing the scene in a Budapest dance club where Gwen pole dances just to make Jean-Luc angry. Did it work? What do you think? And then there's the room service scene where a plate full of condoms arrives along with their morning coffee. Well, 'nuff said.

My inspiration for Jean-Luc

So, as I wait, wish me luck. Lots of it!!!

A CONFESSION

Waiting. I'll confess I'm not very good at it. As time goes on, I become less patient. Perhaps it's part of the instant gratification society in which we live. But I want things now. Oh, I'm not totally impatient. I have no problem with waiting in lines or waiting for a pot of coffee to brew. I can also handle waiting for my fingernail polish to dry. Heck, I don't even mind waiting for Netflix to rebuffer a movie I'm enjoying--again. Don't you love downstreaming? When it works...

But I'll admit to being impatient as I heal from surgery. That week of healing time the surgeon told me I'd have has now morphed into six months. Today it's five months post surgery, and I am still tender in some areas with little sensation on the left side of my face. My left ear feels like a wooden appendage. Still, the cancer's gone, and that's the important thing. Will the pain ever go away? Having had it for five months, I'm a tad concerned.

Life often makes us wait.

 

Being a writer involves waiting, too, and often my patience quotient is thin.

IQ Centerfold Calendar

I have a short story in front of an editor. She said she'd get back to me by mid-March. So...it's March the seventh...close enough to the middle for me. Where's my "yay" or "nay?"

I'm also waiting for my cover art for Mona Lisa's Room. Once a writer has that very important element of her or his project, a big sigh of relief--or gasp of horror--occurs. Covers are such a great marketing tool. We worry it won't accurately portray the essence of our stories. Fortunately, The Wild Rose Press has great graphic artists on staff. Once I receive the cover I should also get the release date for this first book in my romantic suspense series set in Paris. Which brings me to something else: Rain is a Love Song, book two of my series, is in an editor's hands. She said she'll get back to my agent by mid-May. **Slaps forehead**  Sometimes it takes longer to get an editor's approval than it did to write the book.

I'm whining, aren't I? Go ahead, you can say it.

STOP WHINING, VONNIE!!

                                                     

I think I need a whining intervention...or a glass of wine. I'll get it together soon. Really. I'll put on my big girl girdle and deal.

What about you? What things do you have troble waiting on?

STARTING 2012 WITH A CONTEST!

Well folks, the hoopla is over. Christmas is behind us for a few months, at least until Halloween when stores start playing "Have a Jolly Holly  Christmas." The excitement of New Years Eve is now gonging in our heads, or didn't you indulge? Today it's pork and saurkraut and football games. Tomorrow, the reality of routine.

I'm wading through edits my agent wants in Rain is a Love Song, a romantic suspense set in Paris and Budapest. The story involves an American crime scene photographer and a hunky French counterterrorism agent trying to stop The Red Hand, a group of terrorists. This is book two of a trilogy. Book one, Mona Lisa's Room, is under contract and survived the first round of edits with my editor.

How many times does a book go through edits, you ask? Depends on the quality of the publisher, don't you think? Some are so woefully understaffed, that poor writing often slides through. I'm glad my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, is so strict. Why? Because I'm still unsure of my writing abilities. Oh, the stupid mistakes I make...groans and slaps forehead.

Believe me, there's nothing so humbling as going through edits. I keep thinking I'm getting stronger, that I'm learning to avoid the same old mistakes. Before I send any writing project away again, I'm doing a search for the word "was". That bad boy slips in my sentences far too frequently. Then there's the pesky "that" or "just". And WHY can't I start a sentence with "and"? It's a transitional phrase, is it not?

Since you've been so kind to read my rant, I'm giving away a free eCopy of Storm's Interlude to one lucky commenter. So leave a comment and your email address so I can reach you should your name be drawn. And, folks, have a grand, happy, healthy 2012. Hugs!

LIFE THROWS US CURVE BALLS

Believe me, I'm trying not to freak. Yet, I'm finding as I age, I'm less spontaneous, less able to adapt to quick upsets in my schedule. Edits for my novella, Those Violet Eyes, are scheduled to arrive the end of October. Edits for Mona Lisa's Room will come shortly thereafter.

Mona Lisa's Room, a romantic suspense, is book one of The Red Hand series. The editor wants the next two books as quickly as possible, so I'm writing like a fool, upset with myself for not making much headway. I'm still in the phase of getting a handle on my characters. Just when I think I know them, they do something that makes me scratch my head. Then I have to go back to previous chapters and layer in elements to support the unexpected behavior or reaction. I'd hoped to be further along than this. In fact, I'd told my agent to expect book two, Rain is a Love Song, by the end of October. Folks, it ain't happenin'.

I have a cyst on the side of my face in front of my left ear. The cyst, the size of a large grape, according to the CT scan is attached to one of my saliva glands. Heck, no wonder I ain't worth spit, as the saying goes. The cyst is growing, causing pain in my ear and jaw, to say nothing of the constant headaches.


So, in a few weeks I'll have surgery to remove it. Because of all the facial nerves involved, it is an intricate operation. The surgeon says it'll take about four hours. Please keep your fingers crossed that he won't knick a nerve and my face will resemble Jack Nicholson's Joker in the old Bat Man movie.

The incision will start on my cheek at the base of my ear and go up the side of my face, over my ear and down the back of my ear and half way down my neck. My head will be shaved in that area, too. I shudder to think how I'll look afterward, but there's no getting away from it. I need the surgery.

Granted at my age, appearances aren't high on my list of priorities. If they were I'd spend more time in the gym and less time writing. But writing is my life right now...and I'm trying not to freak as life throws me this curve ball. My edits will get done on time. My current WIP will get done--eventually--without the pain I'm struggling with now. Things will be fine. I'll be fine. My book will be fine. Right?

WHEN BLESSINGS COME...one likes to share

Yesterday was Monday, another routine kind of day. Get up, make coffee, read emails, throw sheets in the washer. Feed kitty his beloved treats. You get the picture. So, when I opened the email from LASR, a popular review site, that announced Storm's Interlude was voted best book of the week, I was thrilled.

Later I received an email from a senior editor about my short story. Had I decided on a name yet? She wants to move ahead with the project. Yes, I had--Those Violet Eyes. So, looks like I'll have a story in the Honky Tonk Hearts Series at the Wild Rose Press. Yee-ha!!

Then, as if I wasn't excited enough, I recieved THE call from my agent. The Wild Rose Press offered a contract on my romantic suspense, Mona Lisa's Room. It seems like we've been waiting so long for a decision. Not so, by publishing standards. We'd submitted the middle of June, so the approval process took about two and a half months.

Short by industry standards; long by my nerves.

I am blessed in my writing career. Although I started late in life, things have been on a wild roller-coaster ride since my first book was contracted the middle of November. It's humbling. Truly.

So, to celebrate I'm giving away a copy of Storm's Interlude to one lucky commenter. Tell me about a dream you have right now. For me, it's losing some weight--groans. For some, it might be a better job, a new baby, new living room furniture, a cruise and the list of possibilites goes on. Tell me, what's yours? Leave your email address in your comment, so I can contact you if you win. Good Luck--and of course, no purchase necessary. Grins!!

MAKING A PURSE OUT OF A SOW'S EAR

Idle time for a writer is not a good thing, especially in my case. Bordom sets in. I've emailed my romantic suspense, Mona Lisa's Room, back to my agent with the first round of tract changes completed. We'll go through this process once more before she feels the manuscript is good enough to "shop out" to publishers. Keep your fingers crossed, folks. An editor at The Wild Rose Press has my short story--or novella, if you prefer that term--and will get back to me by July 5th on Waiting on a Dream. So, what do I do now as I wait?

Dawn Dowdle, my agent, suggested I dust off Indigo Blooms, my first novel. She loved the story and fell hard for Fae, the little girl who wanted a Mommy. I must admit Fae was my favorite character in the book, too.


Dawn said since my writing's so much stronger now, perhaps I could polish the book into a more marketable format. In Pennsylvania Dutch lingo, she's hoping I can make a purse out of a sow's ear--a sow being a female pig. Perhaps now you're getting a visual of what I'm facing.

I rewrote the entire first chapter. Changed a lot of the back story. One could say the plot has many holes. And, honestly, at times it reads like it's written in a different language. Gee, and I thought it was so perfect at the time...sigh... Passive language, point of view issues and characters that overreact. No wonder she couldn't sell the thing.

I'm not sure Wonder-Woman-Writer could salvage this story. Still, fool that I am, I'm trying. I think it's because I want you to meet Fae, the real heart-stealer in the book. Of course her veterinarian father, muscled hunk that he is, can make a woman's heart stutter at twenty paces. He's worth the trouble, too. The heroine, her heart locked in a protective vault, has no defenses established against the charms of an exuberant child--who does?


How much do I keep? Dawn's already told me I need to take out two chapters that make the story "too dark," according to publishers she queried. So do I lighten up on the tension or just hit the delete key? What will I put in its place? Or do I simply start fresh with that section and go in a completely different direction? What to do...what to do...

Tell me, how do you revamp a weak story? How do YOU make a purse out of a sow's ear? 

FIRST DRAFT IS DONE

My first draft of Mona Lisa's Room is done. I'd barely typed the final period before self-doubt came knocking at my door. "Your ending sounds kinda lame," she stated, picking a piece of broccoli from her snaggle tooth. "I'd rethink it if I were you."

I can't stand that arrogant witch.

So, I laid awake last night, wondering...

I'd set up things for 3 possible endings, a tiny hint here, a little reference there. Why I chose the ending I did was simply based on what I'd felt at the time. Pantser that I am, I have no better reasoning process.

The writing of Mona Lisa's Room, as I've said before, was a stretch for me. I don't like horror movies or shows with a lot of blood and gore. I don't watch CSI or all those other crime shows. Why I chose to write about a terrorist group, I'd named the Red Hand, chasing my hero and heroine through the streets of Paris is beyond me. My gunfights sounded like two kids shooting water-pistols in the backyard, and my karate fights read like two bears doing the cha-cha.

Still, I wrote on, enjoying the learning process of stretching my boundaries. Writing romantic suspense and getting that delicate balance of romance and intrigue was a challenge. Whether I achieved that balance remains to be seen. No doubt Dawn Dowdle, my agent, will have much to say about that. Nothing much gets past her.

Writing the story was a fun process, revisiting the city I love so much. Paris is a delight. In less than four months I'd written over 90,000 words. In a few days, after I let the manuscript perculate on the back burner of my brain, I'll start editing it. I'll see then how many of those 90,000 are good words. By the time I get done paring and shifting and deleting, I might have 80,000 passable words. One never knows.

For now it's the ending that bothers me. I've been obsessing about it all day. Did I write a good one or not? Should I have chosen one of the other endings I'd so carefully set up? Truthfully, it seems like a Micky Mouse kinda ending.