Another Book, A Box of Books and a Month of Writing

Today I finished the second book in what I’m calling the Crested Butte series. The name of this book is And Then You Dance. There’s a theme. And Then You . . . that was my aha moment a few days ago.

One person has finished reading the first draft, and she called today when she finished, praising and cursing me. The curse had to do with a note I put at the end of book two saying book three would be available early 2014. And she doesn’t want to wait.

She talked a lot about how I handled the different scenarios, my writing methodologies, which are loose at best. I let the story lead me. When I sat down this morning I had four or five story elements I intended to write in before the book ended. And then, suddenly, I wrote a sentence and I knew. That was the end. Two out of the five elements made it. The other three will either wait for book three, or go away completely. Even now I don’t remember what they were.

Having read all of my books, she is qualified to comment on how my writing is changing. It’s getting easier with each book I finish, which is evident in the writing. I feel it, she read it.

So here I am, another book finished and my first shipment of paperbacks for the first CB series arriving tomorrow. It’s a weird timeline, particularly when you write as quickly as I have been recently. 

And finally, tomorrow, or two hours and eight minutes from now, NaNoWriMo will start. And I’m playing again this year. I won on November 19 last year. Given that I cannot remember the three story elements I intended to write this morning, and yet I remember what day I wrote my fifty-thousandth word a year ago, is astounding.

Many nanowrimos are starting tonight, stroke of midnight. I will not. At the rate I’ve been writing, I’ll win this year around November 10th or so. And it isn’t about winning, it’s about writing. Book three . . . yet untitled. Starts tomorrow. Ready, set, sleep.

Ding-ding-ding and the winner is . . .

Got my first photo from a person who ordered the paperback! Woohoo!

The reader's comments: "I'm only seven pages in. It came yesterday. But so far I love it. I know it's weird to say because you wrote it, but there is so much 'Heather' in it. It's almost like I am reading it in your voice or like you are telling a bedtime story."

I know I keep saying it over and over and over, but this is the best thing ever, best feeling ever, coolest thing ever and I'm enjoying (celebrating!) every single moment. 

Thank you so much, everyone, for being so supportive and celebrating right along with me. It's incredible.

Yet Another Day to Remember

Today I got a request for the book from a national reviewer. Actually it was only a few minutes ago. I seem to be having a lot of memorable days lately and I am celebrating each and every one of them.

I love to write. I love everything about it. Even the impossible days, when words won't come. Yesterday I wrote ten thousand words. Today, zero. And that's okay. Because tomorrow, when no one needs me for anything, I'll write again. 

I love the new book. Have I said that already? Or have I said it ten thousand times already? It's such a different story, different approach . . . and I'm so anxious to send it out, to let everyone read it. And that is the best part . . . when someone calls and you can hear it in their voice, they've been crying, while reading your book. And then they say, "Oh my God, I love this book so much."

Hand-on-heart moments. Best moments ever. 

Where words fail, music speaks: Lou Reed

Without music, life would be a mistake.

Today the world lost a genius, but so much more than that. To say he had a profound impact on American culture is nothing compared to the profound impact he had on anyone who loves music. 

Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.

"I'm Waiting for the Man," with John Cale. Uncompromising. Raw. "Sister Ray," seventeen minutes of beautiful noise. "Pale Blue Eyes," gorgeous, heart-wrenchingly beautiful. "Satellite of Love," forty years later, still an enigma. "Walk on the Wild Side," who among us doesn't know every word? Hard to believe now that it was was so . . . what? Taboo? Amazing it ever got airplay.

Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in the world, then it can only happen through music.

"Vicious," "Sad Song," "Sweet Jane." I mean Sweet Jane. One of those hand-on-my-heart songs, beautifully sweet . . . jane.

Music in the soul can be heard by the universe.

And "Street Hassle." When asked one of those questions, "Who would you invite to dinner?" Lou Reed. Without question. But in regard to this song? Bruce Springsteen. What must it have been like? 

In music the passions enjoy themselves.

Few move me to the level Lou Reed does. Leonard Cohen too. Rolling Stone doesn't list either in its reader-chosen greatest songwriters of all time. And who among those chosen weren't influenced by Lou Reed? I'd ask all ten of them that question during my fantasy dinner.

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

I love music. I live my life by soundtrack. I can't imagine my world without music. And I can't imagine a world of music without the extraordinary contributions of Lou Reed.

Where words fail, music speaks.

Another Day to Remember

I got up too early for a Saturday morning, but it was to take Frank to swim practice at 5:45am. I can’t complain about it, at least I got to come back home and write, Frank has to swim for two hours.

A few minutes after I returned from dropping him off, I got a direct message on Facebook from my Aunt Judy letting me know she’d just ordered the paperback version of And Then You Fall from Amazon. I checked as recently as last night, and hadn’t seen the link to the paperback, so her message caught me by complete surprise. Particularly since it wasn’t suppose to be available until November 1.

So this day, October 26, becomes another day to remember. It is the day I sold the first paperback version of a book I wrote. Huge thanks to Aunt Judy for being the first to buy it!

I also had an aha moment regarding the title of “series two/book two.” In fact, it was an aha moment for the whole series. One of those duh kind of things. Sometimes answers are so obvious. And more often than not, the simplest answer is the best one.

Frank and I are going to the Marquis tonight to see four Denver-based bands. And we’re taking a friend of his with us. Last night on our drive to the football game, we listened to Mayday Parade, who we’re seeing on November 4, also with a friend of his.

I have two comments on tonight’s concert as well as Mayday Parade. First, Frank told me yesterday that he wanted to stand near the front of the stage for Mayday Parade. He went on to hint that he didn’t want me to stand there with him. Okay . . . that hurt a little, but I DO understand, I really do. I just hope that I still enjoy myself being left alone somewhere else in the building.

Secondly, and this is a happier comment, he told me what I should wear, so I fit in. Or so I feel more comfortable. After he gave me his wardrobe suggestions he said, “you’ll look like any other scener.” I’m guessing at the spelling of scener. He told me to go to YouTube and type it in, so I knew how everyone else would be dressed, but I haven’t done that yet. Fortunately (or oddly), the clothes he suggested I wear I already own. Surprising right? And he didn’t say that I’d look like an older-version of every other scener there. Also surprising. 

I hope the things he’s learned about saying the right thing to his mother will serve him well one day with girlfriends and eventually his wife.

Kind of Like a Baby

I’ve decided to stop naming books when I start writing them, because the title always changes. I suppose it is a good thing to have a working title, but there have been a couple occasions where I found myself writing to the title. Not good. 

Yesterday I made a commitment on the NaNoWriMo website to participate this year. I’m 53,000 words into “book two,” aka “series two/book two,” which is how I will likely refer to my books henceforth. I’m not sure how I’m going to juggle finishing it and starting another. It may just be too confusing. I added a title on NaNoWriMo, that I know will change, since I haven’t started the book yet, but it for me it will simply be “series two/book three.”

When both our boys were born, we knew well ahead of time, perhaps when I was two or three months pregnant, what their names would be. In both of those cases, the names fit, but I do like the idea of waiting until the baby is born to name him or her. So from now on, I’m going to wait until the book is further into gestation before I name it.

The Steamy Factor

It has been an interesting twenty-four hours in the life of And Then You Fall. There were about ten beta readers of this book, maybe a couple more. Most of them read the book, gave me notes or feedback . . . and none of them thought the book was TOO steamy. 

In the last day, it seems I'm hearing more from people who do think it's too steamy. Upon clarification, a couple of people told me they were teasing me, but a couple people stand by their assessment that it was too much.

I suppose the adage of not being able to please all the people all the time stands true in this case. Also, the two main characters are committed to one another (eventually), but in the time that they're together, or not together, they are still monogamous. It is a love story so . . .

When I wrote my first book I did not include any sex whatsoever. I mean we knew they were having it, we just didn't know any details. An agent requested the full manuscript from me and her notes were very clear: if you're writing a love story, you need to include sex or your readers will be very disappointed.

I am sure that there is a segment of readers who would not be disappointed, but her point was that there was a broader segment, a commercially-viable segment that would be. Considering she wouldn't represent the book (or its sequels) prior to those edits was something I paid attention to.

I also told her that it was a struggle for me. She suggested I write something completely different, a different story and practice. So I did. And it ended up being And Then You Fall. So maybe I over-practiced. 

There is someone I've met along this particular book's journey who suggested I write from my heart and then let it be. Today I stumbled upon this quote. Please understand that I am not discounting the suggestions or feedback these readers have given me or their opinions, I am simply writing about how I feel about it. I have had some doubt, some concern, some desire to please all the people all the time, but at the end of the day, the book I wrote is the book I wrote. I may keep the suggestions or feedback in mind for future books . . . but if finding this quote was a sign, and I see everything as a sign (by the way), then this is what I'll accept today as how I feel.

I Haven't Been to Outer Space Either

I just got a text from a friend who’s reading And Then You Fall, right now. She asked if it was weird that she got embarrassed reading it because she pictures me as the heroine (you know, in the steamy parts). I told her to STOP IT, that it isn’t me, isn’t anything like me (okay, maybe a little like me, but not very much like me). 

A few months ago Nora Roberts was featured during a CBS Sunday Morning segment and the person interviewing her commented on how she was known for her great love scenes (I think the interviewer gushed a bit more than that, my personal opinion is they are trite, but that’s beside the point). So the natural follow-up question would be (and was), do you personally have all that great sex? 

Nora gave her an annoyed look and answered, “Yes, I've had all that great sex. I’ve also been a bank robber [I’m paraphrasing here], a jewel thief, and I’ve been in outer space.” She went on a bit longer than that, given she’s written at least one hundred books, maybe more. Her point was that she was not, personally, the heroine in each of her books. And neither am I. 

A good book should inspire the reader to identify with the main character. Who of us doesn’t dream that we’re the heroine when we read a particularly steamy book in which she is beautiful, in perfect shape, smart, clever, rich, a world traveler, has great sex, etc.? I think that’s the whole idea, or at least part of it.

So please, when you’re reading my books, don’t picture me in your head. It’ll only make it weird for both of us. ;-)

Cannot Wait to Write Today—Seven Days to Jace’s Story!

Energized by yesterday’s delivery, anxious to see the paperback for sale on Amazon, and more excited to finish the current book.

Seven days to NaNoWriMo, or national write a novel month. I will be participating by starting Jace’s story. Jace is a character introduced in book two of the Crested Butte series. With Jace I get to spend time in Aspen and Crested Butte, plus some time at Black Mountain Ranch and who knows where else? In the current book, Dance Me Home, Jace is in Spain, with his twin brother Tucker, who is going through something in his life and needs his twin’s support. See why I’m so anxious to write? I love these characters so much, and I can’t wait to see how their stories play out.  

I may not finish Dance Me Home before November 1, and I haven’t decided yet how to juggle finishing book two while starting book three. And if these are my problems, I’ll take them every day of the week.

So far two friends have told me their book clubs will be reading And Then You Fall, one here in Monument, who has asked if I can come the night they discuss it. How much fun is that? I’d like nothing more than to visit the other group too, since they’re in Southern California and that would mean getting to see so many friends that I miss so much.

There are eight wonderful reviews on Amazon for And Then You Fall, two from verified buyers. Once it hits eight from verified buyers, some of the national websites will review the book. Huge stuff for me. Heady—considering I started writing one year, two months and eight days ago.  

Oh My God has Just Gotten Oh-My-God-er

The doorbell rang a few minutes ago and as I approached to answer it, I saw the UPS guy walking back across the front yard. I peered through the window beside the door and saw the small, book-shaped package sitting just outside it. I opened the door and brought the package inside, sat down at the table, and opened it. 

The book is bigger than I imagined it; more substantial looking. And it is beautiful. Now my task becomes looking through it, making sure everything looks the way it should; reading it, because once a manuscript becomes a book, there are things one sees that they don’t before it’s in its final form. Keep in mind I’ve been down this road with over two hundred authors . . . it’s just that it’s my turn now, and that makes it entirely different.

I edited another book earlier this year and enjoyed it very much, once I got back into the process of it again. Prior to that, it had been six years since I edited someone else’s book. I’m known to say that the last three books I edited did me in. One was about school shooters, which was one of the hardest books I’ve ever had to edit subject matter- and overall contact-wise. Another was written by a knighted, former ambassador to Persia, now as everyone knows, is Iran. His predictions of what would happen should we not heed his warnings were dire . . . very dire. So also disturbing. The final of the three was a 1,100+ page collection of a lot of useful information about every woman who ever played any role in classical music. There shouldn’t be any question as to why I decided it was time to retire my red pen.

And how this relates to my book? When I was editing, and designing book covers and content, I treated each book as though it was the author’s child. Many spent much of their life either dreaming about writing their book, or actually writing it. I considered how I reacted to people when they gave me constructive criticism about one of my children, and approached the way I dealt with authors in the same manner. A book is very personal. It is, more often than not, a singular pursuit for an individual writer. And each one of us who has done it, has experienced the Oh My God moments that I describe in this blog post.

There were certainly books I worked on in the collection of two hundred that I didn’t believe had much of a market, there were books that I thought would sell far better that they have proven to. Regardless, each of those authors deserved to have their Oh My God moments, to celebrate the culmination of perhaps years of work, or years of dreaming. 

Having worked in the publishing industry has not jaded me. I am as excited and as giddy as anyone who has gone before me. It is thrilling to see my book in print. Thrilling. I didn't take a photo of the sunrise this morning, none could likely compare to the one I took last week, the day I sold my first book. But like that day, this is a day I want to remember forever. I hope to have many, many days like today, where the first proof of a new book comes in the mail and I get to devour it like I plan to do with this one. 

If you’re reading this and have gotten this far, thank you for going along on this journey with me, not telling me that you’re sick of hearing about my book, and celebrating with me. If you’ve always wanted to write a book, paint a painting, become a barrel racer, record a CD, write a blog, start a business, here is what I have to say to you:

What are you waiting for? Do it. Whatever it is, do it. Believe in yourself, believe in your talent, believe in your ability, and just do it. And if I can ever offer personal words of encouragement, my door is always open, and I’m quick to answer email. 

If you’ve read this particular book, you know it is the same thing Liv would tell you. You are never too old to pursue your dream. Never. Do it.

Pavlov's Music and Cliffhangers

Driving today, listening to the radio rather than some preprogramed iTunes playlist as I usually do, I felt a distinct desire to race home and write. I was listening to a country music station and realized that my response to the song playing was physical—almost Pavlovian. I wanted to go home, walk into the house, fire up some music, and do nothing but write.

Maybe it’s the story I’m in the midst of currently. The song was something Billy and Renie would’ve listened to, and yes, I know that sounds as though I’ve crossed over and am actually living in the pages of my book, but I cannot imagine that other writers don’t know what kind of music their characters would be listening to.

Somehow the mood left me before I got in the house. I think maybe Doug started a conversation with me about our children, or something else important enough for me to stop, listen, and lose my desire to bury myself at my keyboard.

Instead, after whatever important conversation I had with my husband, I read. I read about a book a day, when I’m reading instead of writing, which is a blessing and a curse. Anyone who is a fast reader understands the curse side of it. I finished the book I started this morning a few minutes ago. And it is a cliffhanger. The good news is, this is not a new series, so the second book is already out, as is the third and fourth I believe.

So having just finished this book, and knowing that in just a few minutes time I’m going to start the next book, and read through quite a lot of it before I finally fall asleep, I want anyone who has read Linger to know that I’m sorry.

I know what’s going to happen in the next book (and the one after that). So I have been less than empathetic when I’ve received emails or facebook messages cursing me for the way the book ended. I usually say something trite about how you’ll just have to wait and see, with a bit of an evil glimmer in my eye as I say it.

If the next book in the series I’m reading right now wasn’t published, or available, I would be PISSED. In all caps PISSED. So again, I’m sorry. I’ll try to get the second book, and I’m even sorrier to say, the third book, ready for reader consumption faster than I have been. And I’ll warn you upfront. At the end of book two, you’ll be just as pissed at me as you were when you finished Linger. Again, I’m sorry. And I’ll do my best to never write another series this way again.

The good news is, the current series does not involve any cliffhangers . . . yet.

Paperback Writer Among Other Adjectives Including Thankful

And Then You Fall will be available in paperback. I don’t know exactly when, but it might be as soon as next month (maybe even sooner). This is not something I saw happening ever, let alone the day after the book launched.

I am a myriad of adjectives once again: stunned, excited, terrified, shocked, thrilled . . . and I could go on and on. 

Today I received a string of texts from someone who purchased the book yesterday and spent most of the day today reading it.

The first text said: “Not happy with you right now! Just ended Chapter 11.”

A little while later I got this:“ . . . this is a freaking rollar coaster ride. Just finished Chapter 19. Think I used an entire box of tissues.” 

She also called me to tell me that while she was reading it earlier in the day, at Panera, someone who worked there came up and handed her some paper napkins and said something about thinking she might need them (because she was crying then too). 

And then a few minutes ago I realized I had another text, from another friend that said:“Haven’t read anything this sweet and steamy in a long time . . . and I’m only on Chapter 4.”

If I haven’t said this before, or often enough, thank you so much, every single person who has been nice enough to send me a text, or an email or some other kind of message. 

Thank you to every single one of you who has gone online and downloaded the book.

Thank you to my beta readers for reading, and for giving me such great feedback. 

And thank you to all of you who have already gone online and reviewed the book, even though Amazon doesn’t get them up fast enough for any of us!

I forgot one other adjective above . . . I am also very, very happy.

Never Mind and . . . Oh My God!

Earlier I wrote that there may be a delay with And Then You Fall being released today, since it is officially today and no longer tomorrow. Well . . . never mind that post. Because around lunchtime tomorrow (I mean today), the book is scheduled to be available for sale.

It’ll be a Kindle book only for the first ninety days, and then it will be available on other e-book retailer sites. And you can rest assured that I will be posting multiple links about where to buy it.

So here it is, 12:16 am on Tuesday, October 15, and my first book (actually my fourth book), will be out in the universe, for sale, soon. Which is crazy and wonderful and terrifying and exciting and five million other adjectives that I will not bother to add. 

I am at the beginning of this journey. As I’ve said before, by the middle or end of 2014, there will be five more available for sale . . . and, how crazy is that?

I have never enjoyed anything work-related as much as I enjoy writing. And I wouldn’t necessarily call it work-related, because it doesn’t feel like work. At all. But there are other things in life I enjoy more than writing, like research for writing (wink).

It is unlikely I will sleep tonight. Although I’m too amped up to write or do much of anything else. 

My Girl

I have two sons, I don’t have a daughter, at least not in the traditional sense.

I met Catie at the Air Force Academy when she was a sophomore. She came to my cooking classes with her roommate and her roommate’s boyfriend, who were two of my favorite people. In Catie’s junior year, the roommate was away for the first semester, so she came to my classes by herself, the first one I remember was a wine appreciation class. 

If I was asked to describe Catie in one word, it would be fierce. She is passionate about everything. She talks loud and if she’s telling you a story, she rarely takes a breath between sentences, even if it takes her a half hour to tell it. She’s this way when she’s angry, hurt, happy, everything. And I love it about her. 

When she first started coming to classes, I didn’t really think Catie liked me. Or better put, she wasn’t one of the cadets I thought I connected with. The wine appreciation class was different. I overheard her talking about me, saying that she’d heard I was a good sponsor mom. 

At the Air Force Academy families sponsor cadets. It usually starts in their freshman year. Cadets are assigned to families who bring them to their house on weekends, feed them, let them do laundry, give them a haven for a few hours or a day or a weekend. Being a cadet is not for the faint of heart. And it’s especially hard the first year.

Sometimes the sponsorship works, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the cadet decides they don’t need it, or they’re not comfortable with you, and sometimes it’s the family who decides it isn’t a good fit.

After their freshman year ends, cadets are on their own for sponsors. Some stay with the original families they were assigned to, some don’t bother with it. Some find coaches or in this case, instructors they connect with. And as long as your family is already in the sponsor program, you can "adopt" a cadet. There isn’t anything formal about it, it just happens.

When they were seniors, our family adopted two gymnasts, who I also met in a class I was teaching. While we were their sponsor family for only a few months, these two young men mean the world to our family. We had a party at the house after their graduation and everyone agreed, it felt more as though Dan and Matt had been our sponsor sons forever. I’ll always love them as though they were. 

When she asked, I told Catie we’d be happy to adopt her. Our only requirement was that she email me. I’d had other cadets ask and never follow through, so when she did, I knew she was serious about it. I’m pretty sure she came over that next weekend, or if not, the weekend after that.

And soon, Catie became my adopted daughter. She has wonderful parents, who she is very close to and I respect that relationship, but in my heart, she is also one of my children. I never could have predicted how close we would become. 

I listened to Catie talk about her trials and tribulations at the academy, with friends, with her family. I’ve laughed with her, cried with her, cried on her shoulder, let her be the first person who read the first book I ever wrote. We’ve had wonderful nights out, girls' day where we’ve gone shopping, or gotten our nails done. She’s helped me as much or more as I’ve helped her. 

I predicted, for most of her senior year, that I was going to be lost without her after she graduated. My prediction was accurate, but the truth is, I never expected to be this lost. I never imagined I would miss her as much as I do. 

She’s in Texas now, at tech school. So she isn’t that far away. She and I text sometimes, she was the first person who read And Then You Fall, back when it had a different title, and she read it as I wrote it, which meant I sent her ten or twenty pages at a time. She is my biggest supporter and I don’t know if I would’ve kept writing without her. She knows how to tell me what doesn’t work without destroying me, and then turns around and tells me what does work, so I feel better.

Catie texted me Sunday and told me she was drinking Starbucks, getting her nails done and missing me. My response was, come visit. Twenty minutes later, we had a plan, and if all goes okay, she'll be here the second weekend of November. I will be counting the minutes.

I cannot wait to see my girl, the girl I consider my daughter. She is smart, funny, beautiful, independent and fierce. I’m proud of her every single day and I know that, because I am reminded of it every day, when I find myself missing her.

A Delay

It breaks my heart a little to say this, but it looks as though there will be a delay with the release of And Then You Fall. I know this isn’t unheard of, I’ve been in this business a long time. But it is certainly disappointing. What’s more disappointing is, I don’t have a new release date. I’m hoping it will be before November 1, but I’m afraid to commit to it as an announcement. 

In the meantime I’m doing what everyone says you should do, I’m working on another book. Which is a hell of a lot of fun honestly, it’s a great story with characters I’ve fallen in love with, not only in this book, but in the one before it. You know, the one with the delayed release.

I’m trying hard not to freak out about the delay. That might be too strong a word. I’m trying not to be too disappointed about the delay. I feel as though I’m standing on the starting block waiting for the buzzer to signal I should dive into the water. I don’t want to get off the block and wrap myself in a towel again, I wanna swim. Dammit.

The character I’m writing presently is in a little bit of a pouty, feeling sorry for herself mode right now. Once again I’m wondering if life imitates art or . . . 

How much of my character’s emotional state do I take on? And how much do I write them based on what I’m feeling? I think the answer is lost in the chicken-egg syndrome. It’s very difficult to know which comes first.

I have a lot going on this week, except for today. So I suppose instead of pouting and moping, I should write. And keep writing. Because just like the delayed book, this book will also be out in the world, ready to be read, faster than I can imagine.

She's Such a Little Tease

Billy stood out on the deck, the baby monitor in his back pocket. She’d probably sleep for at least an hour, maybe even two. He hoped so anyway. Not as much for his sake as for hers. She was a much happier baby when she had her afternoon nap. If she wasn’t awake by the end of two hours, he’d wake her up. Dottie, his mother, told him he should never wake a sleeping baby, but he didn’t listen. By then, he’d miss her so much that just watching her sleep wouldn’t be enough. He’d want to feel the warmth that thawed his body when she smiled at him, and kicked her feet, and put her head on his chest because she was so happy to see him. 

The other thing was, when she was awake, when he focused on her, he didn’t think about Renie as much as he did otherwise. 

Today marked eight months since he’d seen her, and next week was his girl’s first birthday. He never dreamed that they’d be celebrating without the one woman he swore he couldn’t live without.

Billy and Renie Haven't Been Dancing

I’ve been struggling with the plotline of the newest book. As is typical with me, things are too good between the MFC and MMC too early. I like to get to the good stuff right away, but that makes for a very short book.

I decided to take the day off from writing, or at least the night. I tried for most of the day to force the story to take some kind of shape . . . and it simply wasn’t working. If you pay attention, you will know when the story isn’t working, I am on twitter and facebook more, looking for inspiration I suppose.

Tonight, out of the blue, the perfect idea came to me, just as I was about to drift off to sleep. So now, of course, I’m ridiculously excited about writing it. But in an effort to assuage that overwhelming urge, which will cause me to be awake far later into the night than I should be . . . I’m writing about writing it, rather than writing it.

The truth is, I can’t wait. I live for this feeling—when the ideas are flowing out of my head so fast my fingers cannot keep up with getting them entered into perpetuity. 

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been searching for the thing that makes Billy and Renie start dancing. Now I’m the one who gets to dance.

And the award goes to . . . guilt.

I just got a text from Frank, who’s at school. It said, “Are you still mad at me?” Great. Remember that post from a couple of weeks ago? The one about my view? Shot that all to hell today. And the reason he thinks I’m mad at him, has nothing to do with him. Even better—taking out my pissed-offed-ness on him rather than the person I’m mad at. Mom of the year right here.

I assured him that I wasn’t. However, he’s been stewing about it since about seven this morning, my reassurance at 12:45 doesn’t help a whole lot.

So now I have guilt, which as a motivator wins the worst ever award. Guilt doesn’t inspire me to do anything. In fact, it makes me want to do whatever I have to do less.

Which leads to a book segue. Doesn’t everything with me? 

There are a few people who have had the book for a while and haven’t read it. They got it as “beta readers,” which means I expected them to read it and give me feedback. If they didn’t want to shoulder that responsibility, they shouldn’t have asked to read it early. I’ll still let you read it, I’ll even give it to you for free. And if you’re one of the people who has it but hasn’t read it, here is the most important thing I have to say to you:

Stop avoiding me. Just tell me you haven’t read the book. Or don’t tell me, at this point, who cares? Guess what? I know you haven’t read it. And it’s okay. Because the last thing I want you to do is sit down and read it because you feel guilty for not reading it. I’d so much rather have you read because you want to, you might actually enjoy it then.

Do I overcommit? Yes, every day. Do I feel bad about it when I do and let someone down? You betcha. But I’ve found the easiest thing to do is to just to say so. Most times those I believe I’ve let down, either hadn't noticed, or didn’t care, or understood. Just like I did, or do, or didn’t (notice). But avoiding them would’ve made them feel terrible. Much worse than the whole letting them down thing.

If you promise to stop avoiding me, I promise I won’t ask you about the book. Deal? 

Nanowrimo

Nanowrimo is an acronym, for National Novel Writing Month. I found out about it a day or two before it began last year, and participated by writing the second novel in my East Aurora series. The idea is to write 50,000 words during the month of November. Keep in mind, novels need to be closer to 90,000 or 100,000 words, so in essence it is write half a novel month. The point is, it is a prompt to get writers to do the thing they struggle with the most . . . write.

What I love about it is the collaboration that comes along with participating. There are minute by minute Facebook posts, and probably Twitter as well, although I wasn't an active tweeter last year so I'm not sure what that looks like.

There are sprints, write as fast as you can for a certain length of time, say fifteen minutes, and then either report or don't, how far you got. They are fantastic exercises for breaking through writer's block. I suppose anyone can do a sprint anytime they want to, but it's so much more fun to know that others are doing it with you.

I've had plot issues, character name issues, idea issues, that I've posted questions about on the Facebook page, only to have fifty answers within a few minutes. Usually it shows me that I know the answer myself, I just needed that push to break me out of the cement block I had allowed to build around myself.

A few weeks ago, outside of Nanowrimo, I posted a question about a plot issue I was having in AND THEN YOU FALL. In minutes, as usual, I had countless answers. They ranged from the silly . . . an alien takes over your MFC's body and . . . you get the idea. To the profound: ask your character what they'd do. And what the kind commenter meant was go to a place of silence and talk to your character in your head. The answer will come to you. And it did.

This year I'm ready-ish for participation. Many do a tremendous amount of research upfront, or start downloading music to write to, or stock up on coffee and chocolate, or outline their book. My preparation is mainly mental. I'm not certain yet what book I'll write, or work on. I have an idea, but I haven't decided. What I do know is that I will participate and for me, that's often enough preparation.

I have so much writing to do I'm in analysis paralysis. Analyzing what I need to do rather than just doing it. It is a common affliction amongst anyone creative, or anyone. Nike added to (some may even say built) their brand around it . . . just do it.

And that's what Nanowrimo forces you to do. Set a time limit, be accountable to your goal and for God's sake . . . just do it. Quit thinking about it, just do it. 

Another Two

And Then You Fall is the story we all can relate to. Relationships that are not obvious, circumstances that challenge our perspectives, and love we all dream about.

Five Things

I asked some of the people who have read And Then You Fall, if they had to describe the book in five bullet points, or sentences, what they would say. Here is the first response:

• The main characters are mature adults that we forty-somethings can relate too.  
• It's about second chances even if you're not looking for it—unexpected in Liv's case.  
• It's about going after your dreams and taking risks no matter your age.  
• It's about patience and allowing the person you care about the space they need.  
• It's about walking away when there is no other option, but not closing the door so you can find your back to where you should be. 

A Man and His Guitar

Tonight Frank and I went to see Citizen Cope, a show we’ve both been looking forward to for several weeks. There was a point this afternoon that we considered not going. As days go, today was a one step forward, two steps back kind of day.

We rallied. We went. We didn’t have a plan, we just knew we needed to get out of the house, push the restart button on our day and go. We ended up at Pappadoux for dinner, thinking it was sort of thematic given Cope’s background.

There was a long wait, but we lucked out and got a seat at the bar, and had a fabulous dinner—but better, great conversation. I am thankful each time we have these moments that turn into evenings where my son and I connect. Tonight was one of those magical nights, when what we thought might be okay, turned out to be brilliant.

We arrived at the Gothic a few minutes before he came out on stage, and even though the place was packed, we somehow found ourselves right in front of the stage, with a great view.

There are people, or bands, who are good performers. They know how to put on a big show, wow the crowd with theatrics or big production. And other times, there is a man and his guitar, and we find ourselves several times throughout the show, with our hands on our hearts.

Tonight was a man and his guitar night. He played every single song I wanted to hear and even though it was evident he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, he delivered in spades anyway.

What rises to the top with this type of show is sheer, raw talent. When he sings, you feel every single word, every syllable. Hand over heart feel it. When he started Sideways and instead of singing himself, the audience sang to him, I was moved to tears. It was one of those moments I'll never forget. 

When we had the wine bar, Andy Somebody used to come to play once a month or so. I pestered him for weeks to learn the song. I knew it would be a song perfectly suited to him. The last night we were open, Andy played, and surprised me at the end of the night by playing Sideways. It brought me to tears. That memory is now coupled with tonight's and it will remain so.

Clarence Greenwood—Citizen Cope—is a man with extraordinary talent. His songs get to me on a heart level, a hand over my heart level. At the end of the show, he walked the stage and shook people's hands. He shook mine and I was able to look him in the eye and say thank you. I hope he knows how heartfelt it was.

Freakoutedness

In thirteen days, And Then You Fall will release. I’ve been remarkably calm, even a little zen-like about the whole thing. Until today. And I’m sick. I don’t think the two things have anything to do with each other.

The book formatting is almost done, it will be by the time I go to sleep again, for the hundredth time today. I have a website to put together, then I have to figure out whether I have two blogs or one, what to do about facebook and twitter . . . not anything anyone else cares about but me, but still things I have to do.

Periodically I say Oh my God, for no particular reason. I mean, I know the reason, but no one else does. And then I can’t explain it. Because it sounds silly. I knew this would happen, or it’s what’s supposed to happen. Doesn’t diminish the freakoutedness however. 

Oh my God.

Resolution. Rest. Writing.

Things have been a little up in the air for the last week or so with And Then You Fall. It isn’t the only reason I haven’t been sleeping properly, but it’s one of them. Not sleeping properly seems to be enough of a reason all by itself to not sleep properly.

Today: resolution. Tonight: rest. Tomorrow: writing. (And with me, there’s always that chance of tonight: writing, too.)

I have so much to write. So much. All I have to do is get it out of my head and into my computer. I want to finish the current book, working title Dance Me Home, by the end of October so I can start the third in the series for Nanowrimo.

There would’ve been a day saying I want to finish a book (currently at 17,469 words), in thirty days would’ve been the craziest thing ever. Not so much anymore. 

Billy and Renie are calling me. They want their story written. And I want to write it. And after that, there’s Tucker . . . just in time for ski season (and yes, that’s a hint, cuz after all, it’s the Crested Butte series). 

I’m trying something different with this series, I wrote about it last night. Billy and Tucker may very well end up the protagonists of book two and three. Which is crazy fun to think about.

Resolution. Rest. Writing. Life is good.