The best of writing

Osiyo~

I just had a wonderful weekend! Friday I got together with fellow OKRWA members for a 'meet and greet' with guests, agent Lucienne Diver, of the Knight Agency, and Associate editor, Charles Griemsman with Harlequin/Silhouette. I can honestly say I have never met two more wonderful people! Lucienne, also a YA author, has the most fantabulous wardrobe! When I commented on it she said she has to keep up with her Fashionista vampire. Lol
Oh, and Charles and Lucienne love, love, love chocolate! Shhh

I would, first, like to thank these wonderful people (and their companies) for visiting our neck of the woods for OKRWA's SHMC (OKRWA Summer Heat Mini Conference). I truly appreciate them both giving us ideas of what they look for when acquiring new authors to represent. THANK YOU!

SO, what was the best part of this past weekend for me? Meeting them of course, hanging with my favorite writers, the OKRWA Outlaws. And, by far not least, the networking op. Harlequin Intrigue author, Merline Lovelace and Love Inspired author, Margaret Daley each gave great workshops on the craft of writing which is great for me, someone who is still learning so much about this career I've chosen. I think it has chosen me, because I can't seem to stop even if I tried- which I'll never do!

And then I pitched my story to each of them and was nervous, even though I'd had margarita's with them just hours prior! Maybe I didn't have enough, the effects wore off? :o But...because of the professionalism of these two, their respect for writers, I felt confident, comfortable (as much as was possible), and in control of my writing.

Believe me when I say, I felt NONE of that at my first ever pitch two years ago! That was mostly because I had no idea what the heck a pitch was really all about. I've done a lot of reading/research since then. Also, I had never met anyone in the industry before so, I think its fair to say, I was more than a little intimidated by the overall experience. It was still fun, the agent and editor who visited were great, wonderful ladies, but I wasn't comfortable in my writing skin back then.

Does that mean I am now? Ahhh-nope!

Just more so, and it's because of people like I spent my weekend with that have helped me gain confidence and thicker skin about writing. And I can't end this post without saying-I know a lot of any successes I have writing-wise has to do with the fact that I have a wonderful support system in my critique partners of CBC, my Twinkies. These women are so thoughtful, respectful, and when necessary, tough-love cps. I highly recommend you find one, two, or ten! We have a lot of fun too. Oh, the laughter aches I go to bed with on some nights after staying up with them! And the tears we cry.
You can check out their blogs in my Twinkie-link on the left.
[Elisabeth Meadows had an interview here two days ago for her first book 'Her Decision' which has been requested by Harlequin. If this link doesn't work, you can find it through her website.]
I hope one day we will get to have a Twinkiefest. I'd love to meet them! I just know one of us will publish soon!!!! I think that's the one who needs to foot the bill for us to meet. But that's just me.

So, until then (and way beyond) I will continue to write, read, and anything in between, that has to do with the craft I love so much.

Dodadagohvi~ until we meet again

Excitement abounds

Osiyo~

Saturday, ironically, I became inspired to plot, plan and do some research on the next ms. It's part of a series with fellow writers and I've been trying to get a grasp on mine since March. With no luck, except, I knew it would be about a Vietnam war doctor who goes home- since that was the era I had chosen to write it in. I figured it had to do with getting the current one edited through first so I could focus on another project. Maybe it helped, maybe it didn't, but that one is now steeping before final edits, and Saturday the new one whispered to me.
Of course, I couldn't ignore it! :)
Finally...my hero has a name, first and last, as does the heroine, his mother, and her mother. I'm very pleased with the way this one is starting out. Why? Because it is an historical, which I don't write...well, I never have until now, guess I can't say 'never' anymore. I love the research, mood settings I've fallen into for this one. Since I usually listen to modern pop, rock, and mainly country I needed something to help me sink into the era of Poodle skirts, muscle cars, slower times-- and the Beatles, Elvis and the Chiffons. I found a great website that I can choose music for any year I choose. I now live in the sixties while writing. It amazed me the first day how many songs about the Vietnam war, also called 'the rock and roll war', were written. If not in bold content, then in subtleties. You just 'feel' the times through the music of those war years. But the love and 'atmosphere' in the songs of those times is also amazing. Pure. Fun.

It is 1967, and Dr. Sam Callahan has returned home to Silver Town, Oklahoma with more than a little PTSD to contend with. Days after his arrival, he finds himself targeted by Poppy Tippens, the illegitimate daughter of a gypsy. Her black, bouncy curls and pixyish smiles drive the doctor mad in ways the war never could. Poppy's sights are set on Sam, and a determination to help him create a new life outside the war-torn boundaries of his own mind.

Excerpt from 'HOME':

But, he was home now, exposed, naked, making it visible, like a black cloud following him everywhere he went. Folks he'd grown up with, had taunted and pestered, now stared as he headed to McGregor's Grocery for Ma. The stigma, the brand followed him, Vietnam veteran.

He'd changed.

Sam gathered up the bags with his mother's listed groceries and nudged the door of the store open just as someone barreled through from the outside knocking both paper bags from his arms. "What the...?" He stood watching tomatoes and an orange roll back to the cashier's checkout stand before he turned to see who had steamrolled him, words ready on his tongue to let the person know he was mad as hell.

"Hey, soldier, you dropped something. Want some help?"

Poppy Tippens. He should have guessed by her sweet flower scented perfume. The girl smelled like Ma's garden. Not that he'd really noticed what she smelled like, just that she wore enough of it so it was hard to miss if she was in a three block radius.

Now she stood, hands propped on skinny hips, tapping one black-and-white saddle shoe-clad foot impatiently. "Well?"

Before Sam could think what to say she shook her head full of springy black curls and knelt to gather vegetables, toothpaste, and toothbrush along with several other items, in her small hands. "Get me a fresh bag, would ya honey?"

Finally coming to the realization Poppy wasn't going away, Sam accepted the new bag the cashier held out to him and bent to let her stuff the purchases inside, before going after the escaped fruit. In seconds Poppy had reloaded his bags, though not as orderly as they had been, and stood to hold one as Sam took up the other, before handing him the one she held. "Thanks."

He couldn't get out of there fast enough with all the town folk staring, and silent.

As he fled through the door he heard Poppy speak, and his steps faltered as he came to a halt and he turned to stare in disbelief.

"What's the matter? Ya'll ain't never seen a soldier home from that damned war? At least he's walkin', and on both feet. Not like Donny Brubaker, poor soul. So quit your staring and get to shopping and leave Sammie be." With that, Sam watched her slam the door and march up to snake one of the bags into her arms, and start walking. Four steps and she turned, "You comin', or what?"

She smiled, and Sam forgot how to breathe.


There will be more of this one as I get closer to submission. Right now, that's all the taste I can offer.

Does this sound like something you would read? I'd love to know.

Dodadagohvi~

Osiyo~

It's Memorial Day so I wanted to blog about the men and women everywhere who, are now or have in the past, serve our country with their lives. I may get a little negative feedback on this post, but it is something close to my heart, so I will say it anyways.

We all work but how many of us literally risk out lives on a daily basis in our job for the sake of a nation? I don't. I've heard people criticize those soldiers in wars over the years. Why? Because they volunteered to protect us, and the government sent those people on a job that wasn't what we 'approve' of. Look at many of us at our own day job, we all have responsibility to our positions and are sometimes asked to do jobs we may not like or agree with, but we do it just the same. Do others criticize us for doing something they might consider unethical because 'the boss said to'? We get defensive and try to justify cheating clients/customers or whomever because 'I was just doing my job. Don't shoot the messenger'.
Guess what? That's the same thing our brave soldiers are doing in whatever God Forsaken country they are in. We must remember not to 'shoot the messengers' of our government. God knows the enemies are doing enough of that for us, (just look around you while at the cemetery this weekend if you need a visual) we don't need to help them. This is a time to remember those who have lost their lives fighting for the freedoms we take for granted each day. I wonder how many of those men/women sit around their camps wondering if we think about them? Do they wonder if they are being judged by the same people who told them they love them and trust their decisions? One big difference in our jobs and theirs (besides the obvious) is that we can choose to quit ours. They can't.

I realize it is getting more and more difficult to take what we have for granted anymore, but if we do, be thankful we have that right and try to remember a soldier today for the life he/she puts around us like an armor shield that protects us. Whether they want to, or not.

Dodadagohvi~

When blood becomes tears

Osiyo~

What a week this is turning out to be. A month ago I was writing a story that I had entered in the Donnell Epperson Soon To Be Published contest. For the record, I didn't win, or even final in it, but it was a wonderful experience-and an honor to be a first time contestant in the contest newly renamed for our lost sister author Donnell. I don't mind not placing because I was after the breakthrough of entering my first ever contest and I accomplished what I had set out to do, to take that step and put my writing out there to be judged. That story was also going to be the one I pitch to Silhouette editor, Charles Griemsman and Lucienne Diver-Knight Agengy next month at the Summer Heat Mini Conference on June 5th here in OKC. (BTW-if you're interested in attending that conference we still have appointments available, if you go to the OKRWA website to register now!)

You notice I said I was going to pitch the contest entry. Change of plans was necessary when my other two beloved characters began harping at me for their chance to be heard first. Healing Whispers is a completed ms in which I threw at my lovely critique group mid stream last month. Have I mentioned how much I truly appreciate you Twinkies? Thank you!
Those wonderful head-bashers jumped in without missing a step and took on Tobi and Tanner with gusto; internal issues and all. I lost my momentum a few weeks ago (I know, I only switched to their story a few weeks ago... I'm not proud) and made my cps wait for three weeks between ch 5 and ch 6 before I was able to focus again.
Yesterday was a totally focused day though, as I pushed through the final five chapter edits in one day! It can be done. So, now I wait for them to catch up...while I muddle through some sort of synopsis...

That's what I get for rushing through those first round edits. Yay! You see, just because I have finished my story- I'm far from finished with the story. Now, I have the pleasurable task of celebrating the composing of a synopsis, and I still need to finish my pitch blurb, query letter and then...second round edits begin! Hooray!!!

But, I really love writing which makes all the work enjoyable even when I feel like pulling my hair (or someone else's) out by the roots. I can't describe the feeling of accomplishment when I type those last words: The End, after so long and so many hours of pouring my blood all over the keyboard! It is an amazing feeling, really. It's what keeps me going through all the work; that determination to finally be able to say 'It's Done'.

Now I can say I'm ready to take on the pitch, and get this couple ready to fly into the world.

Dodadagohvi~

Spring Has Sprung in Oklahoma

Osiyo~

I love spring. I love the color of flowers and the green of blooming trees everywhere, new life of the animals all around. I live in the country and its so nice to open my windows in the morning and hear birds chirping and whistling so loud their voices echo as I write. At night it's the coyotes singing and night birds that make me smile. Life is good at these times.

Last week my youngest daughter turned another year older. As if most of us needs anything to help us remember some of those landmark dates; she will never forget her 21st birthday. It was the day Oklahoma got hit by 37 tornadoes in about 4 hours. One was just a little over a mile from where she was working at the store she and her husband had just purchased in March! I feel it was fortunate that it happened at rush hour on a week day. Why, you may ask, is that so good? Well, it's my opinion, but it was daylight-you can't see tornadoes at night- and though people were congregated in areas and most were able to find shelter quickly, most had also left their jobs/schools, but were not yet home.
My niece's Vo-Tech was hit by a small tornado while a few people/students were there getting ready for their graduation. The building Pam was to graduate in the following night, where the people were that night, was hit hard. Two horses were hurt, not seriously, and most of the barns and out buildings for the barns had some or total destruction. Pam had just finished her second year of Equine Production; the barns were her classroom, the horses her studies.

Another school, elementary, was hit, but it was around 5 pm, so no kids/people were there. People weren't all home yet being stuck with rush hour and after-work errands. Lots of homes were wiped completely away and they were mostly empty because, everyone was stuck in the rush hour traffic trying to get to their homes after a long Monday. One woman my daughter told me about (her friend's mother) was on her way home from work to an area that had heavy damage/destruction (her home was not). Her car radio on, she heard warnings to get out of vehicles and take cover. She stopped at a Love's gas station/truck stop and ran inside where she was immediately pushed to the floor by someone, while others hid inside big coolers for shelter. Just seconds later, the most damaging of the tornadoes nearly leveled the station, but no one was seriously hurt or killed. On the news there were semi trucks with trailers everywhere that had been tossed and moved around like a child's toys. I heard a story yesterday of a young man who had been at the lake swimming, and dove under water after watching his pickup roll across the parking area and then take flight. I wonder if he knows one tornado reportedly formed over that lake?

During the storm, from where I live it visually seemed like nothing more than a typical brief, harsh storm; dark clouds and wind blown rain. I looked out my western windows and saw bright sunshine. To the east was the dark clouds and a big fat rainbow.
Did it occur to me to take pictures? No. For, even though we weren't in the path of the rage, I was as terrified as so many others were. Not for myself. Two of my daughters and their families lived under that beautiful rainbow; both in the path of the second tornado and I couldn't get either of them on the phone for much too long! I finally got hold of the oldest traveling from work, and because she passes by the younger one's store on her way home, she was able to check on her sister and then call me. And, even though I personally wasn't in the storm (I'm just 25 miles from either of those daughters) I stood to lose as much as the people who had lost everything material. My daughters/granddaughters and husband are my life, what I live for. I thank God I didn't lose anyone and prayerfully cry for the one's who did.

Wide paths of destruction and days of no electric for many, my daughter's included in the power loss, followed the two biggest tornadoes with five lives reported lost. It was a scary day. A sad day. It was in many ways-and unfortunately, too often- a fairly typical spring day in Oklahoma, USA. We were blessed on May 10, 2010 that homes and belongings, material stuff that can be replaced or done without, were the main, though by no means the greatest, losses this time.

Two hours later the sky was clear, and other than the devastation and continued news reports carrying over the air ways, it was hard to tell what had been going on here that day from where I live. But, even though the birds were singing after the storm the same as they had before it, I didn't hear them.

And then life goes on. No more news reports. No more burning up the Internet with horror stories. But, it's still all around us.

Things are not 'back to normal', though life went on as it always does after one of these storms. As I travel and speak to others , the devastation is still very apparent, sometimes by nothing more than a large highway sign twisted in another direction as though a huge truck had hit it. It's twisted in the wrong direction, and you just know. You feel the sadness even in that seemingly insignificant symbol.

We don't forget; we move past. We have to.

Dodadagohvi~ Thank God