Title Trouble

In a previous post, I stated my intention to blog my writing journey. To tell you the truth, it's been so long, I'm out of the habit. I'm not even sure if anyone reads blogs anymore. I may only be talking to myself, but I'm going to try.

As you know, I published my second book in early February. After that, I took a break for the rest of the month. Then I started my newest work in progress on March 1st. Happy to say, I'm almost at the 23,000 word mark. I even worked up a trial cover, and here it is.

 

I'm happy with my output so far, but the writing hasn't been without its trials. For two horrible days, I came to a complete halt and decided I couldn't make the hero's conflict work. Couldn't resolve it. He's an outlaw, after all. So I had to really dig in and think about it. I decided his motivation was solid. I even absolved him morally. The only sticking point--and it was a big one, to me--was his standing in the eyes of the law. I wanted him to be legally absolved in the end, but there's no way to make it happen without sending him to jail. And that wouldn't make for a very happy ending, would it?

Anyway, for two days, gloom and despair. I was 20,000 words in. I tried to think of a different plot setup that would turn him into a victim rather than a criminal, but it became so convoluted and unbelievable, I ended up scrapping the idea. I decided I just had to continue and go with my initial gut feeling about the story. So, that's where I am at the moment.

In other news, I also started another manuscript. I know, I know. We're not supposed to work on two stories at the same time. But the idea came to me and I just had to start writing it down. Or lose it. I can't tell you how many times that's happened. So far, so good, but the title is driving me bonkers. I don't have one because the original title I came up with--the one that fit so perfectly--has been used at least a dozen times in recent years. So I'm working on a manuscript that's untitled and that's never happened before.

More later...

Happy reading and writing,

Devon

Long Absence and a New Book

It's been such a long time since I've been here, I'm not even sure if anyone keeps up with blogs anymore. And since I've been silent these past four years, I feel I need to explain why. None of it is good news, I'm sorry to say. My family has had more than our share of loss recently. Then, a little over a year and a half ago, my dear hubby suffered a stroke and our lives drastically changed. My husband, who always took such good care of me and our family, suddenly became the one in need of care. Suffice to say, we've had a struggle.

Anyway, there is one bit of good news in all of this. Between long bouts of putting my writing on hold, I did manage to finally finish the book I was working on. I published it a couple of weeks ago.

I'm so out of practice at this and I've lost touch with everyone I used to know, but I intend to make an effort to start blogging my writing journey again. If any of you are still out there, I wish you all the best.

Happy reading and writing,

Devon

When Rose Benton left Texas five years ago, she carried a secret that tore her family apart. Now she's back to confront her brother, whose disastrous debts have endangered the family ranch. Faced with losing everything, Rose turns to the one man who can help—handsome, headstrong Trey Delaney, her late father's former right-hand man.

With their adjoining ranches legally tied, Trey has only two choices: agree to Rose's plan, or lose his own birthright. Caught between hard luck and a desperate woman, Trey has a few tricks of his own in store for the neighbors who stole his land.

The 1880's cattle country heats up when Trey and Rose unite to thwart her brother's scheme and save their land. In tough, protective Trey, Rose at last finds a man deserving of her trust. In Rose, Trey discovers a spirited woman with a heart as big as Texas. Can they heal old wounds and give in to the love both need... or will desire turn to dust when past betrayals are destined to repeat with a vengeance?


Available at Amazon

The Good News Is...

Thanks to Smashwords, Angel in the Rain is now up on Kobo and Sony. I'm sure it's showing up in other places, too, if I took the time to go look.

I have my office back! Can't tell you how thrilled and relieved I am. Now I can write again. A solution finally occurred to me two nights ago. I could move mother to my son's room and run the phone cord from her heart monitor through the wall into our bedroom. So that's what I did yesterday. I punched a hole through the wall and problem solved. Hey, what's a little hole in the wall compared to writing time.

For the past nine months, we've been involved with my dear hubby adopting my daughter from my first marriage. She's always been with me, and then with my husband since we were married twenty-three years ago. But because she's an adult (33) with Angelman's Syndrome, it's been more of an involved process than we anticipated. But an end is now in sight! We have a court date for the second week in July. Wish us luck. This is long overdue, folks.

For the past several days, sales have nearly flatlined. I was beginning to get a little down in the dumps over it. Then, last night when I checked email for the last time before turning in, I had a lovely note from a reader who told me I'm now one of her favorite authors and she's eagerly awaiting my next book. Doesn't get much better than that. Thank you, Ashley, wherever you are, for giving this old gal a much-needed pick-me-up! :o)

Hope all your news today was good news.

Happy reading and writing!

Devon

A Little More Time, A Little Less Conversation

I thought it was time I posted something, since it will soon be a month since I was last here. For the past three weeks, I've been a fly-by observer of the internets and not much of a participant. My mother is here from Texas for an extended visit and we've had people dropping by from here, there and everywhere. Some of them only stay for a short visit. Others spend an entire weekend. Plus there have been functions to attend. My nephew's graduation, a family reunion, family cookouts, etc. Social butterfly, I am not, so I'm ready to pull out my hair.

My computer time has been nearly nil and this is really driving me nuts. I have a book to finish!!! I've already announced that it will be out by the end of the summer. What was I thinking?

What's the cover, you ask. It's one of the prototypes I was playing with for the aforementioned unfinished book before normalcy was snatched away. Seeing it here in miniature, I can tell some more blending is in order at the top where the dark area meets the lighter background. Finding stock images is a challenge. I think these look just a tad too contemporary for my historical, but there isn't much choice. I also have a couple others in the works and will probably post them later and ask for feedback on which I should use. I think rational decisions about anything right now might be beyond me.

So, how's the summer going for you so far? At least we've gotten a break from the rain.

Happy reading and writing!

Devon

Hodgepodge

Another week has flown by. I finished the manuscript I was working on. See the cute mile marker. Writer friend Taryn Raye made a whole set of these, in two different designs, for me a couple of years ago. I'll bet she thought I lost them. I still have them, Taryn, and thank you!

Anyway, I finished the manuscript a couple of days ago and now I'm busy ripping out its guts and rewriting. Sounds gruesome, doesn't it. It's a dirty job, but somebody's gotta do it.

Speaking of gruesome... Hubby killed a copperhead in our garage yesterday evening. OUR GARAGE! I'm so freaked out. It's going to take a while before I feel comfortable again. We've always treated the garage like it's an extension of our house because it's attached. We've got so much stuff out there. And to think there might be something more hiding amongst all our boxes and bins. Brrrr! Gives me the creepy crawlies. Hubby says he's afraid to go prowling around out there now, too, and will have to wait until the dead of winter, when it's zero, to look through everything. This would not have happened if we still had Little Man. Since he's been gone, we're overrun with wild critters. At any time of the day, you can look out and find squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks and (it seems) every kind of bird on the planet frolicking in our yard. By all reports we've heard, snakes are plentiful this year, too.

In other news... My son will be moving back home in a couple of weeks. He's been wanting to come back for several months now, but the lease on his apartment isn't up until the end of August, so he had to stick it out, work, pay rent, and wait. I'm thrilled that he was responsible enough not to walk away from his responsibilities and do what he wanted. After a year, it will be yet another adjustment for hubby and I. While we're happy he's coming back home, we've also gotten used to him not being here. It's hard to believe it's been a year already.

Devon

As The Sun Sinks In The West...

In case you were wondering why I've gotten rid of the dark, earthy colors and my wild west banner and changed to a softer --hopefully-- more romantic, generic look, it's because for some time now I've been moving away from the westerns. Not to say that I've completely given up on them, by any means. But I have been writing in other genres, kind of the way I did when I first joined RWA more than 15 years ago.

Given the current publishing climate--and because I have no desire at this time to write either erotica or inspirational, which is most of the westerns published nowdays--I finally decided maybe it isn't such a good idea to pigeonhole myself as strictly a western author. Yeah, I know, I'm slow, but I finally did break over. It really wasn't a conscious decision. After being away from the keyboard for a good while, story ideas started coming to me again (after a looong dry spell). Funny thing is, the new ideas weren't westerns. So I decided to stop being stubborn and just go with the flow. And that's what I've been doing and I'm enjoying the writing process more than I have in a very long time.

I could write an entire post on the reasons why I stuck strictly to the westerns for as long as I did, and maybe I will, sometime or other. As I said, I've not given up on westerns completely. I love them too much for that. And there are at least two manuscripts that are begging me to finish them, so I intend to. Eventually. Who knows, maybe someday traditional westerns will become popular again, but I'm not holding my breath any longer. For now, I intend to write what speaks to me at the moment, regardless of genre.

The changes I've made to the blog I also plan to do on my web site. But I keep putting that off because changing out the template on an entire web site is no small undertaking and I'm dreading it. Just so you know, even though I got rid of the banner and the cowboys, I simply could not let go of the little red horse. So I moved him to the very bottom of the blog. He's inconspicuous there, but I can still scroll down and see him whenever I want. He's there now, running his little heart out.

Happy writing!
Devon

Writing ~ Career Choice or Calling?

I've always been fascinated by First Sale or How I Became an Author stories. Whenever I run across a first sale story, I usually stop and read and I'm always surprised by the ones that say the person simply decided at some point in life to change their profession and become a writer. What's even more amazing is that many of these people never even dabbled in writing until they made a conscious choice to become a writer. And they're successful, otherwise, why would their first sale stories be of interest to anyone? These people went into it as a career choice. Given the wacko, roll-of-the-dice nature of the industry, this blows my mind.

Then we have the other kind of writer, the person with the calling, who is compelled to write stories from a very early age, the person who must write to satisfy the many voices clamoring inside her head. I'm one of those who was compelled to write from the moment I learned to put the alphabet down on paper and form words. Now that I'm getting up in years, I'm not sure whether this is a gift or an affliction.

I think it would be interesting to know the ratio of career choice writers vs. the ones who are simply compelled, when it comes to authors who have successfully "broken in."

Here's the question for today: which are you? Do you write by choice, or have you always felt compelled to write?

Wednesday Hodgepodge

Some book buyer stats that I found interesting came in today's market update from Cindi Myers.

According to PubTrack™ Consumer, a service of R.R. Bowker, LLC.:

23% of books are purchased through online purchase/e-commerce

22% are sold through large chains (Barnes & Noble, Borders, Books-a-Million)

10% are sold through book clubs

7% through independents

6% through mass merchandisers (Wal-Mart, Target, Kmart)

4% through warehouse clubs (Sam’s, Costco, BJs)

2% through supermarket/grocery stores

1% each through discount stores, drug stores, religious bookstores and book fairs

22% through a variety of "Other outlets" which includes author hand-to-hand sales, churches and other organizations, craft fairs, speakers selling from the back of the auditorium, etc.

I have no idea how this would translate to romance sales, but I'd be interested to know. I remember a few short years ago, the claim was that Amazon and other online retailers accounted for only 2% of romance sales. I think it's safe to say that number has probably drastically changed.

I have a gripe. (So what else is new?) Lately I've been trying desperately to find a romance I can lose myself in. I prefer historicals because I read for pure escapism, so the farther away from today's reality I can get, the better I like it. Within the past month I've bought three historical romances. The first book--a very popular and highly reviewed Regency Historical from Avon--was a wallbanger for me because the hero did something early on that made him so unsympathetic I couldn't bring myself to read any farther to find out if he redeemed himself or not. He was so repugnant, I did not care. The second and third books are an Avon and Harlequin, respectively. Another Regency-set and a Western. Both are so full of anachronisms, I'm constantly yanked out of the story. I have to wonder what's going on with editors these days. Most of all, why aren't these authors doing a better job of policing their own writing? I'm familiar with both these authors and they're both better than this. So I have to wonder what's going on with all the modern terminology and even slang being sprinkled through these historicals.

For anyone reading this who writes historicals, here's a link for the online Etymology Dictionary. Just click on the words and it will take you there. When in doubt, click over to the dictionary and it will tell you the definition(s) and year the word in question came into use. This is such a handy tool, I keep a shortcut right on my desktop. End of rant.

Okay. Getting back to the manuscript now. Hubby's working evenings this week, so the next several hours are mine, mine, ALL MINE!

Devon

Opening Lines

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

Everyone's familiar with that infamous first line penned by Bulwer-Lytton. But do you know why it's so famous? Here's the explanation from Wikipedia: "It was a dark and stormy night" is a phrase penned by Victorian novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton at the beginning of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford.[1] The phrase itself is now understood as a signifier of a certain broad style of writing, characterized by a self-serious attempt at dramatic flair, the imitation of formulaic styles, an extravagantly florid style, redundancies, confusing syntax, and sentences—sometimes incorrectly dubbed run-on sentences—that are exceedingly lengthy. Bulwer-Lytton's original opening sentence serves as an example:

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

Good grief. No wonder the line has gone down in history as an example of bad writing. Bulwer-Lytton should have quit while he was ahead and put a period after that first clause.

Opening or first lines are one of my pet peeves. The first line of the first paragraph on the first page of any manuscript is a matter of great concern. It has to sound right. It has to set the tone. If it does neither, nothing that follows seems to flow or fall into place. Not to me, anyway. I've completely rewritten pages so that I could work in a particular opening line that I thought sounded just right.

I also pay attention to opening lines written by other authors. Some are pure dynamite. Most seem just bleh. And some come close to rivaling Lord Lytton's infamous line in an attempt to pack a single sentence as full of information and description as possible. One particular best-selling author who's always guilty of this comes to mind.

Since I write historicals, an opening line in an omniscient point of view sometimes works very well to set the tone and achieve a catchy opener. Many authors use this little trick, even though you might never find another omniscient line in the entire book. It works, so why not.

Do you obsess over opening lines, or even first paragraphs? During the writing process, do you go back to the beginning time and again to tweak until you feel it's near perfection? What's the one opening line from any book that's stuck with you through the years? Mine is from K.M. Moning's The Dark Highlander, and it goes like this: "Dageus McKeltar walked like a man and talked like a man, but in bed he was pure animal." Don't ask me why that's stuck with me since 2002, it just has. Other than my own, it's the only opening line I can instantly recall word for word.

Devon

Soon To Be Almost Empty Nest

Dear Glynis and Jennifer, my apologies for the disappearing posts. Professionally and personally, I've been a wreck the past several days. Having a meltdown in a public place is the last thing I should be doing. My only excuse is that my emotions have been very close to the surface. Mags, if you're out there, please come back. I promise to behave myself.

The last thing I'm going to say about the RWA vs. the digital age issue is that I'm not offering any more opinions on the matter because my viewpoint changes depending on my mood. So that's that.

Taking a breath now and getting to the title topic of this post.

Yesterday was a huge turning point in my personal life, as well as my son's, who is pictured here. He finally got his driver's license. He's owned a car for nearly a year, paid for with his own money he earned from working, but he's never been able to get out on his own and drive it. Until yesterday. He took the test early yesterday morning and finally got his license. Immediately after, we went to the insurance company to get him on our policy, then came home. Within the hour of our arrival, he took off in his car and drove to Richmond to stay with friends until the weekend.

Eeeeek!!! That's me screaming at the top of my lungs. I've never really decided how one should spell a scream, but that's what the eek is supposed to be.

My baby boy pulled out of the driveway and left. On his own. For the first time ever, he was on the highway--the freeway, even--without me sitting in the passenger seat guiding his every move. Needless to say, I spent an evening I never want to repeat--I actually got physically ill and was up until 4:00 this morning, even though he called as soon as he got to Richmond and told me he'd made it okay. I know this scenario is going to be repeated over and over until I get past the fear of him killing himself on the highway.

Even though I'm scared to death, I'm really happy for him. Not having a license had put his life in a holding pattern. He couldn't come and go as he pleased and he even had to quit his job--at my request--because I was running back and forth to town twice a day to take him to work and then pick him up again, most of the time with my handicapped daughter in tow. So something had to give and, unfortunately, that something was his job.

Okay, so he's on the road. Now the next big thing is him moving out. I know it's coming. He's been talking about it and making plans for months. The friends he's visiting have an apartment and they're anxious to make him a roomie and split even more expenses. Even though I'll be heartbroken when it happens, I know this too must come to pass. He's 20 years old. It's time he experienced the world outside the sheltering wings of me and his father. I have a feeling this may happen when he returns from his little trip up north.

I know that many of you have already dealt with a child leaving home and striking out on his or her own. But this is all new to me and I'm a total mess.

Devon

Mixed POV

Something's bugging me. Maybe it's because I just finished a critique for a friend and marked a couple of these on her pages and told her they were incorrect, but lines like these have been jumping out at me from all over the place since I sent her manuscript back to her:

And I do, he assured himself. I want solitude. Solitude and peace.

I can’t deal with this now, Lannie thought as she stared at the car she'd hit.

The first line is from a newly released Avon romance. The other was published on a popular review site, where it was open to critique, but no one mentioned the mixed pov. To me, these two lines are incorrect. Why italicize a line to set it off as internal dialogue and then toss in a "she thought" or "he assured himself," which throws it into 3rd person? When you add the action tag, it indicates 3rd person. So, essentially these lines are mixing 3rd and 1st person points of view. Why not just write, "And he did, he assured himself. He wanted solitude. Solitude and peace."

Evidently, this type of mixed-up pov has become acceptable. Well, speaking as a member of the old school of writing, this bothers me. I'm equally bothered by the new trend of not putting a comma before "too." In fact, if I thought about it long enough, I could probably come up with a long list of writing issues that bother me.

Anyone care to enlighten me on the thinking about why this mixed pov is acceptable?

Before I go, I have to comment on "old school," since I used it in this post. Even this has been corrupted. Now the "in" spelling is "old skool," and it's intended as a derogatory term. This spelling appears in the online Urban Dictionary and it explains that "old school" started out to mean, "old is cool," which was shortened to "old's cool," and that's how we end up with "old skool." The definition is: anything that's out of date or behind the times. So I guess that's me, out of date and behind the times. But I can't for the life of me see the new method of doing things as an improvement. What do you think? Old or new "skool?"

Devon

When The Going Gets Tough...

As a writer, do you ever feel like you're a little duck in a big pond? Ever feel like no matter how hard you paddle, you're never going to keep your head above water? Take heart. You're not alone.

Writing a book is a long, hard, tedious, often frustrating and lonely process. So, when the going gets really tough, how do we keep going? I'd like to share a few tips that I hope will help.

Just Write. We've all heard this advice and it's sometimes easier said than done. Speaking for myself, I find it darn near impossible to force the words when they aren't flowing smoothly. Still, I write. If not on my manuscript, then I come here and type a blog post. In my opinion, anything is better than nothing, so long as we are putting words down on a page in some manner. If you keep the words flowing then inspiration will surely follow.

Don't Give In to the Negative. Instead of sitting at the keyboard, agonizing and telling yourself, "This is too hard. I can't do it," tell yourself, "I can do this!" It's up to you to psych yourself up because no one else can truly do it for you. So learn to be positive about yourself. Expect to succeed rather than fail. Remember why you started writing in the first place and try to recapture the magic that first pulled you to the keyboard.

Don't Hide in a Cave. I am expert on this one. ;o) When you do hit a low spot, don't crawl into a cave and hide from the rest of the writing world. The longer you seclude yourself, the harder it is to come back. We've all hit the rough stretches and we know how it feels. So please don't think you're the only one who's ever second-guessed yourself or felt like quitting. We've all been there and we understand.

Remember, You're Not Alone. In general, I've found the romance writing community to be one of the most accepting and friendly groups I've ever encountered. Don't try to walk the long, hard road alone. Find a mentor or a critique partner. If you need it, there's help out there. But before you dive in headfirst, test the water. Make sure the relationship is going to work. A critique partnership is like a marriage. It's built on trust. And just like marriage, if it goes bad, it will suck the creative life right out of you. But when you do find someone, or several someones, you connect and work well with, it's pure magic. I credit critique partners with saving my creative life many times over. Best of all, from the trust you develop with a crit partner often comes lasting friendship that will carry through the low times.

Set Goals. If you're writing a full-length manuscript, set up milestones along the way. When each milestone is reached, celebrate and reward yourself. Make the milestones something you can attain within a reasonable amount of time. If you go too long without reaching a goal of some kind, the work becomes tedium with no end in sight. So set shorter goals along the way that are easier to accomplish.

Let Yourself See It. This goes hand in hand with setting goals. I like to keep a record of daily word counts. That way, I can see my progress each day. Many writers have daily word count quotas. If you do this, be sure to keep your quota within a reasonable range of what you're capable of writing. There's nothing more discouraging than falling short of your goal on a daily basis. On the other hand, it's exhilarating to exceed your quota. So, keep it real and strive to accomplish it.

Write Every Day. For some of us, this is easier said than done. But do make an effort to write at least something, even if it's only a paragraph or one line, every day. If you have to skip a day--life happens--redouble your effort to write the next day. Don't go for several days at a stretch without writing. Once you skip, it gets easier to just let it slide. But if you write every day, it soon becomes habit.

Share Your Accomplishments. Most of the writers I know blog these days. So get on the old blog every now and then and toot your own horn, or talk about the process. There's nothing more uplifting than having writer pals comment with a few "Attagirls!"

Learn to Persevere. I put this one last, but it's probably the most important. If writing for publication is your dream, stick with it. Don't give up. Some people write a book and hit the jackpot the first time they query. But for most of us, the road is much longer and very curvy. Decide you're in it for the long haul and then strap yourself in for the ride of your life. Remember, the only sure road to failure is to quit. Don't ever give up on your dreams or yourself. Success is always out there somewhere. It's up to us to reach for it.

Devon

June Already

Well, it's the 1st of June already and, as usual, I'm amazed at how quickly time has flown. For me, this is the official start of summer. I'm disappointed that I'm not farther along with writing projects and on schedule with what I planned back in January. But this is nothing unusual. Life always has a way of throwing a monkey wrench into the best laid plans.

For a change, I spent the entire weekend doing non-writing things. It was hubby's birthday, so I made an effort to curtail my obsessions and spent some quality time with him. At least I hope he considered it quality. Yesterday, the weather was so beautiful, we spent most of the day outside. As a result, the yard, shrub and flower beds look really good. Not a weed in sight. I was down on the ground in the landscaping out front when my nosy neighbor walked by and told me I should just spray everything with weed killer. Where's the fun in that? And wouldn't that kill things I don't want killed? No thanks. I'd rather do it the old fashioned way, down on my knees with my hands in the dirt. It's a good excuse for quiet, thinking time, and I've always enjoyed weeding, as strange as that may be.

It's been an especially long, dismal winter and spring, but I think summer may finally be here. And we have plans which, as usual, involve work around here. Hubby wants to put a roof over the deck out back. That would be nice. We haven't been able to use the deck since the huge, native trees came down. Weather took out some of them, and we finished off what was left for safety reasons. Now, the sun blazes down all day out there. So a roof and some shade would be nice. Also, we finally decided on a color for the outside of the house. Funny thing is, it's almost the same as the color we have now, just fresher. Hubby had wanted to go with an entirely different color scheme because all the surrounding neighbors have ended up siding their houses with our color, which made us wonder what the hay they were thinking. But after much haggling and many samples, we decided not to make a drastic change. We had the color first, so they're all the copycats. And why does it matter anyway? But for some reason, whenever we do anything around here, the neighbors all soon follow suit. We were very tempted to paint the house some off-the-wall color just to see what they would do next. No, we don't get out much and so we take our entertainment where we can find it. ;o)

Happy June, everyone!

Devon

A New Direction

When I returned to writing back in January, I thought I could pick up where I left off. I had plenty of partials to work on and I tried picking them back up again. But, somehow, the spark was gone. Maybe it's just that I've been working at it for so long, I lost my enthusiasm for my favorite genre. Maybe it's because I've been published in my favorite genre and have seen the results. For whatever reason, I lacked direction and nothing I tried put me back on track.

Then something very strange happened. One day a story idea popped into my head that wasn't a western. In fact, the story was set in a time period and locale I've never before tried writing, even though I've read plenty of it over the years. So I started jotting down the basic story idea and my imagination took off! Suddenly, I felt excited about writing again. Genuinely excited and not just forced enthusiasm and wishful thinking. The idea was fresh, at least to me. It was something new. Not only was the genre completely different than my usual, so was the length. For the past week, I've been working on a novella. I know. Long-winded me is writing a shorter story, if you can believe it. And I'm loving it! Because of the shorter length, each day I can see measurable progress. Better yet, at the rate I'm currently writing, I should be finished within a couple of weeks.

I'm not quite ready yet to divulge all the details, but I'll let you know how it goes and what happens. I wasn't going to say anything at all for fear of jinxing myself, but I feel I'm far enough into it now and, hopefully, that won't happen. For several years, writing pals have advised me to try something different. But I'm stubborn. I had convinced myself I didn't want to write something different. Now that I have, my Muse has come out of a long sleep and she's clamoring in my ear constantly. My mood has improved. I have more energy. For the time being, all is right in my little world. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that nothing happens to dash my enthusiasm and I can keep it up. Wish me luck!

Devon

It's Getting Crowded Out There

As more and more romance novels are published, it gets tougher to come up with an original, easy to pronounce, heroic sounding character name. With my current work in progress, I’ve already been forced to ditch my first two name choices for my hero. When in doubt, Google, but be prepared for what a search turns up.

I found my first choice appeared in a Lisa Kleypas historical from several years ago. Even I had read the book, so I have to figure the name was stuck somewhere in my subconscious. So, I scrapped it. I immediately hit on a second choice and ran a search. Even worse, this one appears in a recent JR Ward novel—her famous BDB series—which I haven’t read. Go figure. I was under the impression that all her hero names are emotions—like rage and torment—with a superfluous “h” added to the spelling. I immediately scratched that one off my list, too. So now I find myself with a manuscript partially written and a hero with no name. The funny thing is, this never happens with heroines, only heroes. And it’s starting to be a real problem.

It’s the same with titles. When you come up with a title for your wonderfully unique novel, my advice to anyone would be to run a search. The easiest way is to go to Amazon and search there because if a book is for sell anywhere in the universe, it’s listed on Amazon. Type in your title and see how many books come up. If there are fifteen by various authors, I’d strongly suggest coming up with something else. While titles can’t be copyrighted, why would you want to compete with fifteen other romances out there by having yours coming up midway down, or even at the bottom of the list when someone does a search?

Read any good hero names lately? If so, don’t tell me about them or they might get stuck in my head. There are already too many great names floating around in there. Problem is, each of them already belongs to someone else’s character.

Devon

Reference This

Is there any one reference book you keep close at hand at all times? Mine is a dictionary--an old dictionary--and I keep it on my computer desk, within easy reach. Every dictionary I own is at least 40 or 50 years old, and those old books have been the source of some grousing within my family. We used to play Scrabble every Christmas when my brothers and sister were here and they always complained about my outdated Webster's and told me to get a new one. Well, not on your life. I love my old dictionaries and wouldn't part with them. Every year, I explained that I write historicals and have no use for a newer version, which earned me an eye roll from my sister. A week or so ago, hubby and I were at the indoor flea market and I spotted a dictionary that was much older than any of mine. The thing was at least 6 inches thick and I know my eyes lit up when I saw it. I hoped hubby might take a hint and get it for me for Mother's Day, but I guess that's too much to wish for. Subtle hints usually go right past him unnoticed.

Although... he did surprise me years ago with an antique copy of "The Cottage Physician." The print date in the front of it is 1895. All the pages are loose from the binding and I have to be careful when I take it down and look through it but, by some miracle, the pages are all still there. It's a wonderful resource for how ailments and injuries were treated back in the late 1800's and even has drawings of the medicinal plants that were used.

Like most writers, I have a large, very eclectic collection of reference and how-to books on my shelves. Everything from Medieval Arms and Armour, costume books, the Everyday Life books covering most time periods, to folklore of the British Isles during the Dark Ages, to the entire collection of Time-Life's Old West Series, and many, many things in between. I have several of the Writer's Digest writer's references, including Body Trauma and Armed and Dangerous, but the one I don't have and always meant to get was a reference on poisons and deadly potions. And that reminds me of something that happened years ago.

I was working on a western about feuding ranchers and came to the part where a watering hole is poisoned. I had no idea what they might have used to taint the water and turn it deadly, so I called my uncle, who's a farmer and he also owns a large number of cattle. I put the question to him this way--"If you were going to poison your neighbor's pond, what would you use?" Bear in mind that this was during the days when hardly anyone outside of my household knew I wrote. There was a very long stretch of silence at the other end of the line. Finally, he spoke up and asked, "Why do you want to know that?" I explained that I was working on a story. but he remained skeptical. I never did get an answer out of him. And later, I heard from another relative that my uncle had mentioned my interest in pond poisoning to a few people. I still have to laugh every time I think about it. Did my uncle truly think I meant to poison someone's pond? Good grief.

That isn't the only backlash I've experienced from asking weird (to normal folks) questions. Once, I had a lawyer follow me from his office nearly to my car because I'd given him a hypothetical situation and asked about having someone who owned a great deal of property and cash assets declared legally dead. I'm sure he was convinced I was the heir who needed to have this done to my long, lost mother. I tried to explain that it was just for a story I was writing, but he wasn't convinced. The last thing he said as I was getting into my car was, "If you decide to pursue this, I hope you'll come and see me. It sounds like an interesting case." Sheesh. After that, I learned not to toss out questions to just anyone who I thought might know the answer.

As usual, I got off track and on a tangent with my little stories. So, which references do you use most often? Have you ever gotten into a strange situation from asking questions only writers ask? If so, what happened?

Devon

Doom and Gloom ~ Day Three

I wasn't going to post anything about his, but I think I need to get it off my chest. I've been moping for three days and gotten nothing done except a lot of walking the floor and staring out through rain-spattered windows.

My husband's small business was robbed Wednesday night. Yes, just days after I wrote the Brinks Stinks post. I took that down, by the way, because I realized I had given potential thieves too much useful information about the store's security system. And yes, Mags, I also concluded that the false alarm the other night was probably just a dry run for the thieves to see what would happen.

Here's what did happen Wednesday night, without going into minute detail. The thieves disarmed the security system, then went to the back side of the building, where they couldn't be seen from the highway, and cut a hole through the back wall. They built a blind for themselves using discarded metal racks and old signs and they must have worked at the wall for quite a while, using tin snips and a pry bar. They peeled through two layers of metal and the material between and essentially opened the wall like a sardine can.

After all the panic and mess, we ended up lucky--this time. The thieves took only the Marlboros and a small number of other items. It amounted to 68 cartons of cigarettes. But it seems they were mainly interested in the Marlboros because they took those and left all the rest. How strange is that?

In the aftermath, hubby and others have worked feverishly to restore order. The builders came the same day and replaced the damaged sections of wall. The security people have corrected the flaw in the security system (we hope) and are in the process of doing an update with state of the art camera equipment. And let me tell you, this is setting us back a pretty penny. But how can we afford not to do it. Our income is dependent on this little business.

All of this, plus a number of other things, has left me in a state of mind that I can't really describe. I feel restless, insecure. I feel like I need to do something, but I don't know what it would be. I'm seriously considering taking classes and learning a skill I could do from home that would be relevant in today's workforce. This excites and scares me all at the same time. It's been thirty-some years since I was in school. Can an old dog actually learn a new trick and produce a bit of income? My personal circumstances force me to stay at home. I had always hoped I could earn money from writing. But the reality of that is, writing fiction for publication is like buying a lottery ticket and hoping it comes up a winner. And you're only allowed one ticket every few months or even years. So, realistically speaking, what are the odds?

I don't want to give up my writing dream. But at the same time, I feel I must do something more than what I've been doing. My husband carries the entire load. And he's a brave man. When he lost his good, long-time job three and a half years ago, we were forced to live off his retirement. We were essentially down to nothing when he made the decision to start his own business. It was an act of desperation, but he made it work. Now I feel I need to help him. Especially since Wednesday night. We were lucky this time, but the reality is, we could be wiped out financially next time around.

Sorry for the doom and gloom, but that's just reality sometimes and, just now, I'm standing right smack dab in the middle of it.

Devon

The Pawpaw Patch

Have you ever eaten a pawpaw? They're delicious. The ones in the picture are still green, but when they're ripe they turn a yellowish color. The taste is banana-like, only different. There's really nothing that tastes exactly like a pawpaw, so if you've never eaten one, it's kinda hard to describe. The pulp is banana-like also, only mushier when ripe, and all the seeds are in the center of the fruit.

You won't find pawpaws in the grocery. They don't ship well and definitely don't keep long enough to stock. So they have no real commercial value. When I was a kid, they grew wild all over the hills in this area. We used to go into the woods and collect buckets of them. They get huge and can weigh up to a pound. But something happened to the trees. They caught a blight or something and all but disappeared. I haven't seen a pawpaw in many years.

But guess what. We now have five trees growing in our yard. At least I hope they'll be growing in our yard. Right now, they look like twigs sticking in the ground with a tiny bit of green growth sprouting from them. They don't transplant very well, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that they survive. My mother-in-law had some seeds a couple of years ago and tossed them into her flower bed. They sprouted and grew.

For the past couple of days, hubby and I have been enjoying this hot, gorgeous weather by working in the yard. We have flowers and blooming shrubs everywhere. We've also planted a few vegetables. Early this morning, hubby went to the flea market and found a treasure. It's a push broom with a hollow handle and you can attach a water hose to the end of it. That way, water continuously flows from the brush. Sounds ridiculous, but hubby was in Hog Heaven applying this thing to his garage floor. The man mops the garage. Yes, the floor is painted and he tries to keep it as clean as the floors inside the house, which is just silly, in my opinion. It's a garage. It's technically outdoors--if you open up the doors. Yet hubby insists on obsessing over the garage floor. So sweep and mop he does, and I don't say anything anymore, I just let him knock himself out. A clean garage floor seems to make him happy. So he used this push broom with water flowing from it, and some liquid detergent, and scrubbed it down good. Then he used his giant squeegee (the thing's 3 ft. wide) to get rid of the water by scraping it all toward the drain in the middle of the floor.

Okay, enough about squeegees and pawpaws. Tomorrow, something about writing, or at least something writing related.

Devon

Too Much Reality

Well, I wrote out a HUGE post, then immediately trashed it. Too much reality is not good. I'll be back when I can think of something uplifting or even slightly pleasant to write about. In the meantime, keep plugging!

Devon

Me and the Big 55

Well, I wasn't going to mention it. Had planned to pretend it was just another day. But now it's after midnight, so it's officially April 21st. Everyone in the house is tucked into bed, except me. I took a nap earlier this evening because I didn't feel well. Nothing wrong in particular, just a general malaise and swimmy head. I think it's spring fever, but hubby says I'm depressed because it's my birthday.

Cousin Vondie and I are exactly the same age, give or take four months. The other day, we were joking about being considered senior citizens and being able to get a discount at restaurants. But I don't feel like I should be there just yet. I'm still here, where I've always been inside my head. Sixteen seems like just yesterday and I have to wonder, what have I been doing all these years?

Oh, who are these pictures? These are me and Vondie, at two different stages of childhood. Boy, will she be surprised when she sees these. I'm always the one holding the dog or cat. In nearly every picture of me as a child, I'm holding a dog, cat, or chicken.

Anyway, I've now been here 55 years and I can't be depressed about that. I'm thankful and privileged to have lived my life to this point with no major illness or accidents. I've been blessed with the people I love. I've been lucky to have the chance to pursue my dreams. And in the end, I'm still here, plugging away and I hope to continue for a long time to come. God willing and the creek don't rise.

For some reason, I turn nostalgic every April 21st. But tomorrow, I'll look to the future again. It's springtime and promise is in the air. Anything is possible.

Devon