
Hope all of you have a joyous day with loved ones and lots of sunshine and flowers.
Love and peace,
Devon


For the past two or three weeks I've been completely uninspired to work on my writing. I thought it was spring fever making me lose focus. At least, that's where I lay the blame. Each time I sat at the computer, rather than open up a document, I checked email or browsed the very long list of sites on my favorites list--writer and reader blogs, reader forums, publisher sites, MySpace, and even the weather.
You may think this post is about those rare moments of inspiration we sometimes get. I wish it were, but it's not. This post is about exactly what the title says -- light bulbs. The following is copied from the Daily Mail which, oddly enough, is a British news agency. I Googled for facts before I went spouting off and this article--dated April 27, 2008--was the first one I ran across. The startling alert came as health experts also warned that toxic mercury inside the bulbs can aggravate a range of problems including migraines and dizziness.
And a leading dermatologist said tens of thousands of people with skin complaints will find it hard to tolerate being near the bulbs as they cause conditions such as eczema to flare up.
The Department for Environment warned shards of glass from broken bulbs should not be vacuumed up but instead swept away by someone wearing rubber gloves to protect them from the bulb's mercury content.
In addition, it said care should be taken not to inhale any dust and the broken pieces should be put in a sealed plastic bag for disposal at a council dump – not a normal household bin.
None of this advice, however, is printed on the packaging the new-style bulbs are sold in. There are also worries over how the bulbs will be disposed of.
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Well, the Texas Rose story is in a temporary holding pattern while I figure out how to fix a major plot snafu. Ah, the joys of goal, motivation, and conflict. And just so you know, motivation (the part that's grown from a character's past and solid enough to carry throughout the story) is the one that habitually gives me fits. Not to mention the sympathetic factor. But I didn't come here tonight to talk about craft. I figured I should blog since my last post was 10 days ago. Yikes.I managed to get some words down on the page today. But it's very hard to sit here in my cave while the weather is so glorious and the temperature topped out near 80 degrees. Nature, flowers in bloom, trees and bushes leafing, and yard work beckons. Outside, the air smells sweet with the natural perfume of lilac and dianthus, vastly preferable to my stuffy office with Zeb cat's litter box hidden in a corner behind the armchair. Ugh. There's just no place else to put it. Lately, I've been mighty tempted to ship him outside with the rest of God's critters. Only the thought of him actually being out there, having access to the road and any huge dog that might wander past stops me. The poor guy has spent his entire life in this house and I can't bear the thought of putting him out the door. He thinks he belongs here, with us, and I guess he does. And, wow, did I ever meander off topic.

Thank God it's nearly Monday! It's been a long weekend, and I'm tired. I'm always relieved when Monday rolls around again. The normal routine starts over and things settle down so I can actually get some work done. Writing work, that is. Who knows. This is the age-old question that's driven writers batty... well, for as long as I've been part of the writing community. It's a question I've wrestled with for the past eleven years. Maybe I should go back and read my own blog post where I advised, Write what you feel passionate about.
I added a brace of long-barrelled Peacemakers to the top of this post because it's part of my "world." No, I'm not an antique gun freak, although I wouldn't mind it, if I could afford to indulge. The pistols are part of my writing world and I'm adding atmosphere to reflect my genre. Maybe I'd better explain. 

Back to my point. I posted the picture because these are the Wild Texas Rose(s) I refer to in the title of my current manuscript. During a very nice turning point in the story, my hero makes up a story for my heroine about The Yellow Rose of Texas.
Devon
Rita finalists--
Late last night, I sat here and pored back over a scene I had just finished, adding a line here, changing a word there, deleting an unneeded comma. That sort of thing. I got to the very end of the scene and ran across a word that defied the built-in thesaurus, so I turned around and opened my trusty (and huge) Rodale's on my lap. When I turned back to my monitor, my document had disappeared. It was in plain blue mode and the words SHUTTING DOWN were emblazoned across the screen.
Mentally, I screamed, "No! Nooo! Wait! Don't do this to me!" Computers always turn a deaf ear to our panicky pleas. It shut down anyway.
When it came back up, I immediately went to my document. Just as I feared, none of the changes I made were there. All that meticulous proofing and tweaking had vanished into cyber hell. At that point, my computer had the audacity to pop up a little screen to tell me that updates had been installed and it had restarted. Duh. No kidding. What happened to asking my permission to do all that? After all, computer, you're supposed to be working for me! And yet, I've always been a slave to your little whims and glitches.
Just an observance here, but it seems like since getting my first computer years ago, I've spent an awful lot of time trying to work around the glitches and trying to recover lost words and even whole documents.
I'm just venting. After my computer pulled the sneaky on me, I got disgusted and shut down. Now, I have to go back and try to remember all the little changes I made last night. For all the ease computers give me with my writing, I would hate to know the hours I've spent during the past several years with do-overs to try and hang onto what I've written.
Computer, you are on my list today, and I'm going to be keeping my eye on you every minute. You've been warned.
Devon

Wowsers! I don't even want to know what year Pierce Brosnan had this picture taken. Looks like he's grown in his winter coat though, doesn't it? Now, this is the kind of guy I picture when I'm writing a hero. Most of my heroes have dark hair because I've always been more attracted to that type. Eye colors vary, but I usually stick to some shade of brown or blue. But this is the type of physique I envision for my heroes...mmm, maybe minus just a little bit of that chest and belly hair. LOL! The cowboy over in the sidebar is also an excellent example of a hero-type, imo. The guys with those huge, pumped-up muscles bulging all over the place don't do it for me. They look too unnatural. I mean, how often do you run across a guy out there with a bod like that?I've been thinking about the hero in my current work in progress today. The challenge in writing a hero is making him appealing to all women who read the story. If we can get the reader to fall in love with our hero, at least for the duration of the story, then we've done our job. And since romance novels are mostly written by women for women, it's all about the hero.
That doesn't mean the heroine is completely without purpose. She must be someone the reader can identify with on some level, have goals and motivations the reader can get behind and want her to succeed. She must have strength of character and be worthy of the hero's love. But, let's face it, do we really care if the heroine in a romance novel is dripping with sex appeal?
Which leads me back to the hero. What makes a hero universally appealing? It's got to be more than looks. Though that sex appeal I mentioned doesn't hurt a thing. He must have some noble and worthwhile attributes that go more than skin deep. Even when he's acting like the bad boy, there are certain lines of behavior he won't cross. And speaking of bad boy heroes, they're my favorites and the most fun to write.


When I was young, I thought Ursula Andress (pic at left) was the most beautiful woman on the planet. If she hadn't gotten old, she'd still be the most beautiful woman on the planet, in my opinion. But there's a new generation of beauties on the big screen. Jessica Alba, Charlize Theron, and Selma Hayek, just to name three. The list could go on for a long time. It seems there's a contingent of readers out there who are sick and tired of the heroines in romances novels always being stunningly beautiful. On one forum, they even list their gripes and ask authors to please not write these types of heroines anymore. Here's just an example ---
Get the picture? It appears this (very small, I would think) contingent of readers wants us to write heroines with bad hair, preferably brown. They'd also like brown eyes, I'm guessing because that's the only color they didn't ask us not to write. They'd also like the heroines to have average figures. By average I'm thinking anywhere from a rack of bones to a plus, plus size.
Hooo-kay. I guess these readers don't realize that romance heroines do actually come in all shades and shapes. They only seem to be paying attention to (and griping about) the ones who happen to be beautiful.
On the other hand, these same readers had no complaint whatsoever about the stud-muffin heroes we write. I guess they kinda like them tall, and with all those ripply muscles, not to mention certain other exaggerated (ahem) endowments. They definitely want a hero who's drool-worthy and will play into their fantasy. Go figure. Looks to me like there's a bit of a double standard going on out there. What else is new?
Devon

I put a picture of an old dog into my post because that's sometimes how I feel, like an old dog who can't learn any new tricks. I refuse to hop on the trend train and try to write a book that's the hot ticket at the moment. No, I keep plodding along with my chosen, favorite genre and hope it someday makes a comeback. And now I realize I'm straying from what I wanted to write about this evening.