Author Archive

January 3, 2006 | Writing

How did you decide what story you wanted to write? Did you immediately know what genre you wanted to write for? Do you know what a genre is? Did you know the names of your heroes and heroines? For me, it was 1989 and I was watching Cher on tv. I thought, what if Cher was really bi-racial? What if Cher had hid her ethnicity and had a black family that didn’t know anything about her? Then, I started thinking about a black successful attorney in love with a white attorney and both families opposed to their union. Her father, is opposed because he was once married to a white woman at a time when such marriages were illegal in the U.S. Cher, or Chantel, would be the daughter that shows up when her father dies and Elizabeth, the black daughter, is told about her. Then, I added a black attorney, who is interested in Elizabeth and causes her white boyfriend,Stephen, to be jealous and break up with her. Romeo and Juliet in black and white and don’t die. Looking back, my original story was very raw. Still on the cow, raw. Obsessed with writing this behemoth of a book, I enrolled in Writer’s Digest Novel Writing Program. Of course, after I finished the program, I figured I had a book that agents would be beating my door down to present me. That illusion, still exists, but tempered by years of rejection, learning point of view, syntax, what is a romance, and crying. Looking back, I’m so very glad I was rejected. The story was in the book, but it wasn’t a book. I even avoided paying a so-called agency to pitch my book to agents and editors.
Next came years of writing sometimes, you know, when you’re not busy working a full time job or having a second child, or raising both children. I joined a writers group in a suburb and that helped for a time. An article I read in the Sun Times, by Mary Mitchell, about black romances, directed me to Romance Writers of America. From there, I found Love Designers, a RWA chapter, less than thirty minutes from home. I attended their yearly conference, joined the group and began reading romance books of all types for review. This helped my writing and putting my story together better. From Love Designers, I found Beth and Sloane. Actually, Beth found me and Sloane. There was a fourth person, but she didn’t work out. Beth is the one with the 2×4, and she will repeat what you haven’t learned until you do. Then she moves on to something else, so it benefits you to learn it – quickly. By now, my story was better, but still not tight enough. I still had Chantel and my hero Stephen was weak. I submitted the entire novel, per request to Genesis Press, and it was rejected. But the acquisitions editor rejected me with a two page letter, that outlined my story problems, and she said I had potential. Well, I do. So now, the story has a stronger Stephen, Chantel is not even in the first book, the father doesn’t die, Elizabeth is still torn about marrying Stephen, but this time when I submit, the book will be better. Romeo and Juliet, in black and white and alive. Tomorrow, I’ll post about interracial romances, why I think they’re really hot right now, and how I detest when the story is weak.

January 2, 2006 | Writing

Today is the first day of an online class I’m taking entitled, Defeat Self Defeating Behaviors: Allow Writing Productivity to Soar. It’s taught by Margie Lawson, a counseling psychologist. So far today’s lecture has been a real eye opener. The class is fairly large, with published and pre-published writers/authors. Margie has asked us to keep a notebook, and not write long missives to ourselves, but basically power point what’s holding us back. Procrastination, writer’s block, time drains. She’s going to address them all. Meanwhile, I plod along with my line editing. I find I’m really starting to enjoy it. Yesterday, I wanted to just kill Elizabeth and Stephen and rename my book, “Romeo and Juliet in Black and White, but Still Dead.” Sloane encouraged me not to, and suggested more sex and a dream menage that I’m going to add at the end. It actually fits, Elizabeth realizes who she really loves. Critique Partners, you gotta have ’em and you gotta love ’em. I’m still aiming for Friday, January 13th completion and submission to my critique partners for final review. This serves as their warning. This means, I can practice tennis, but no tennis matches for me until February. Gotta make allowances for the craft.

This month, Beth Anderson, a Chicago crime mystery novelist, has agreed to provide information on point of view. It was Beth who finally got me to see point of view. Now she’s working on my commas. Her work is never done. She will be posting on my Writing, Humps, Dumps and Lumps page beginning January 11th, weekly, and will be taking questions. I invite you to read, ask questions, or contribute what you know about good old point of view. Now, that’s my point of view.

January 1, 2006 | Inspiration

Well guess what? 2006 has arrived. I’ve been anxiously awaiting the first day of January. Last year was very traumatic and I learned what a supportive group of family and friends I truly have. My mother died suddenly on February 26th, fifteen months after my father died. It has taken me almost a year to accept I won’t be hearing her voice or feeling the loving touch of her hand on me. Now, I’ve cleaned and feng shui’d my writing space and am rearing to go. I haven’t made any real new year resolutions. Don’t believe in them. There is no use in my denying my unflinching addiction to potato chips. So I’m going to keep eating them ( in moderation and no baked chips PLEASE)
I’m taking the route of new beginnings, continuing with what matters, and learning.
Beginnings means develop new writing projects, taking control of my health by eating regularly, including vegetables in my diet (that includes carrots with ranch dressing), embracing our daughters’ soon to be new life as a college graduate, and see the power in each day, even if the sun isn’t shining.
Continuing, finish the line editing for my book so I can submit it, fine tune my website with Karen’s every present guidance, work on my tennis singles game and get my team to the playoffs, and when the time permits decorate my house (ok, so that could be Christmas again).
Learning, writing is always about learning. I’m so thankful for my online vixens, FF&P, Passionate Ink, Chicago North RWA and Pro-Org. What a wealth of information and strong opinions.
And the beauty of all three, is I have Beth and Sloane to journey with me.
Sloane ended the year with a contract for Teddi Turns On from Triskelion. I’m still celebrating her success. You should see Sloane in action. Once she identified her voice and what she wanted to write, she was methodically in her approach. She learned her genre and wrote, then rewrote and wrote it again. Beth, a multi-published author, was the one who saw our potential (now I know why she was staring at me), asked us to write with her and has gently (stop snickering Sloane) taught us. Of course, that big 2X4 lurking in the corner takes me back to Catholic grade school, and has a lot to do with our getting it. At least on the fifth try, as is my case.

So to all my fellow writers, tennis players, and friends stay tuned. I’m coming out swinging!

December 23, 2005 | Inspiration

I’ve told you my goals for 2006. Right now, I’m finishing line editing my book, enjoying my family and honoring my deceased parents. I wish you all a great Holiday celebration whatever you choose. I’ll return to my blog on January 3rd. On my Writing Humps, Dumps and Lumps page, Hotclue is going to start the year off answering quesitions on point of view. So until then:

Twas the night before Christmas and all through my house,
Every creature was stirring, including my computer mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney in disaray
Cause there weren’t nothing in them, so what the hey
My 22 year old had slept in her bed all day,
While visions of night time juking danced in her head
Now she and her AKA sisters have primped and prepped,
Cause by eleven pm sister girls, out they will step,
They all look so hot and want to have to have a good time,
Make some unsuspecting brothers spend their last dime.
Our son was grooving watching Adult Swim in his room,
Venturing out only for food and the bathroom.
He’s only fifteen and girls give him the frights,
And for this Mommy, that’s alright.
One day too soon, he’ll discover the opposite sex,
Making Mommy reach for a shot gun, shovel and Kleenex.
Hubby is snoring in the Lazy Boy, holding tight the remote,
Poor me, on this I’ve got no vote.
I’ll wait till he’s sleep, from his fingers I’ll pry it,
Then set reminders to pop up every hour, he’ll have a fit.
I’d just fallen asleep when I heard a great noise,
For a moment I thought it might be some hot boys.
So, I hobbled from my bed and peaked out the window,
Couldn’t see anything, no really couldn’t see anything – no glasses, but it was twenty below.
I stepped over our guard dog (yeah right a beagle) down to the first floor,
Wondering if the noise came from a window or door.
I heard some tapping up on the roof,
“Oh crap,” I said, “I don’t think the roof’s holeproof.”
Then suddenly the fireplace grew bright,
And I thought maybe ET’s stopping by for a bite.
Then black boots, red pants shimmed down the flue,
I didn’t know what to do.
Should I start a fire and burn him up?
Or get out the champagne and offered him a cup?
I braved the outside, since no one would wake up,
I stared at the roof, wishing I had backup.
Then I caught sight of a brand new red convertible Mustang,
All I could say was “Dang.”
Filled with bags, the strap of a Louis Vuitton handing out one side,
I yelled, “Oh Baby come on inside!”
I hurried back into the house, stood by the fireplace clapping with glee,
That jolly old man had brought me some LV!
He made it down the chimmey, tossed his bag on the floor, took a deep breathe and said,
“Woman, those bags are heavy.”
I eyed the LV bags all for me, smiled my best smile and said, “Oh Santa, don’t be so funny.”
He shuffled the bags and unloaded all the loot,
For my family what a hoot.
But, just as I went to touch a bag, my hand he gave a sharp wack!
“Not so fast,” he said, “Ms Smartaleck.”
“Have you finished line editing your book?”
He gave me a harsh look.
I bowed my head and shook it no.
He said, “To your desk, now go.”
“But it’s late”, I begged.
“I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that damn proscrasination line from Sloane.” He smirked.
Boy, Santa was becoming a jerk!
“I’ll take the Vuitton back, the Mustang too.
If you don’t do what you’re supposed to.”
“Oh no Santa, not the LV and my brand new ride!”
“I’ll write, I’ll edit, I’ll submit, just don’t take away my bribes!”
He paused for a moment, I was scared
I was going to have to beat Santa and hide his carass under my bed.
Then he leaned back and laughed so loud,
I thought he’d wake hubby – Not!
“Girlfriend, make me proud.”
“Success awaits you, now say it loud.”
“I’m black and I’m proud! Oops, my bad.”
I raised up my hand and said, “I got it Santa. I know what you’re saying.”
“Sit my ass in that chair and keep writing.”
“I’ve got potential, I’ve got promise, I’ve got stories to tell.”
“Millions of books to sell.”
He said, “Now, you’ve got it.” He reached down in his bag and said, “I’ve got one more thing to
make you happy.”
“Your own personal tv remote. It won’t work for anyone else, not even your hubby.”
Now I was feeling rather froggy and bubbly.
So with a short salute and a tap on my hubby’s head,
He waddled to the front door, outside sat a bobsled.
On top of a black Hummer.
As he gunned the motor, I said, “What a bummer.”
Those big rim spinners,
Just kept him grinning.
He roared around my block, turned the sound system way up loud,
My daughter and her friends would have been proud.
I could have sworn I heard him yell, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!”
But the bass was so loud all I saw was headlights.
So I’ll say it for Santa, my vixens and friends,
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.