Lost Weekend

No, I'm not referring to the classic old movie. I'm talking about the past two days. I spent all day Saturday trying to figure out what was wrong with our desktop. No go. So I went ahead and crashed the thing and started it over from scratch. The difference in this time and times past--I had everything saved elsewhere so I didn't lose anything. Needless to say, I didn't get any writing done over the weekend. But I wrote over 1,600 words on Friday. Two steps forward, one step back.

Of course, crashing the computer couldn't be the end of it. I was trying to fast bake a couple of potatoes last night and broke the microwave. Then today, hubby went out to mow the yard. He'd only made a couple of passes around the perimeter when one of the back tires on the lawn mower came right off the rim. We tried to fix it back on, but that was a no-go, too. He's taking it to work with him tomorrow so he can stop at a garage and have it put back on the rim.

Hope your weekend was better than mine. I can't wait for tomorrow morning.

Devon

Ebay and Nearly Finished

If you don't have Google alerts set up for your author name and titles, I recommend you do so. You'd be surprised at what turns up in your inbox. Today, I got an alert about a listing for my book on Ebay. Nothing new about that. It's been there nearly continuously for a couple of years--and at ridiculous prices. And the books are always listed as new, which makes me wonder where the sellers are getting them and if any portion of that filters down to me. I doubt it. I also highly doubt they ever sell any because of the prices. Anyway, the Ebay alert for today was a little different because the seller is in Australia. Yep. Someone in Aussie land has my book listed for sale, in brand new condition. What the heck! The price is $24.49, which equals $22.01 American, plus mailing charges. I've seen it listed for as much as $36. Here's the listing, if you want to take a look.

Okay. Enough of that.

Since RWA's national conference starts in a couple of days, I figure the blogosphere will be even deader than it is already until the weekend or later--unless some kind souls decide to blog about the goings on from their hotel rooms. I'm not going to Orlando but I am going offline for the rest of the week to finish up a manuscript that should have been finished a couple of weeks ago. I'm so close to the end, all I need is a big push to put it to bed. So, that's the plan.

To those of you going to conference, have fun and stay safe.

Happy writing!
Devon 

Sex Sells EVERYthing

Have you seen this? Part of me thinks it's cute as heck. The other part of me feels it's an abomination. What do you think?



Devon

Into The Weeds

As an avid reader, there's something that's been bugging me for quite a while. So I have to ask, how many times has this happened to you? You're reading an absolutely delicious book by one of your favorite authors. You're three-quarters of the way through it and, so far, it's been nothing but pure escapist joy. And then, and then... somewhere between the black moment and the resolution, the author drags you so far off into the weeds you begin to lose sight of why the book was so fabulous up to this point. And instead of ending with a bang or such a heart-wrenching scene you're forced to sit the box of tissues on the table next to you, it limps along to an uninspired conclusion that leaves you with the feeling you've been cheated somehow.

I have two theories about why this might happen.

a.) The author is a pantser and has no earthly idea how she is going to resolve the story, so she meanders around until the problem resolves itself. Or...

b.) The author pens the black moment, then realizes she could wrap it up in one more chapter. But wait! She's still 20 thousand words shy of her projected word count, so she shoves the hero and heroine into the weed patch and lets them grope around aimlessly--sometimes even doing things that run contrary to what we've learned about their character--until the necessary wordage has been achieved, at which time she thrusts them back together and resolves the thing.

Thankfully, most authors are not guilty of this. But there are a handful who come to my mind who are repeat offenders. One in particular is such a fabulous writer, I'm always heartbroken when she strays off the path. And I have to wonder how she stays on the bestseller lists.

Question--can you tell which of your favorite authors (no names, please) are plotters and which are pantsers just by reading their books?

Happy reading, and watch out for those weeds!

Devon

Friday Firsts

Since a lot of bloggers have a Friday "thing" they do, I thought I'd start my own and call it Friday Firsts. Every Friday (Lord willin' and the creek don't rise), I'll list three random books from my keeper shelves along with the very first line in each book. We've all heard about the importance of first lines so the point of this is to see if the first lines of our favorite books are attention grabbers, or not. Here goes.

Stranger In My Arms by Lisa Kleypas - 1998

"Lady Hawksworth, your husband is not dead."

(This is my all-time favorite Kleypas. Don't ask me why. I think it reminded me of A Rose in Winter, for some reason.)

Allie's Moon by Alexis Harrington - 2000

Althea Ford needed a man and she'd walked all the way to town to find one.

(The appeal of this one was that the hero was the town drunk. The heroine dragged him up by the scruff of his neck and reformed him. Very Americana-ish.)

The Outsider by Penelope Williamson - 1996

He came into their lives during the last ragged days of a Montana winter.

(This is the best portrait of a gunslinger ever written in a romance novel, in my opinion. I wish Ms. Williamson still wrote historicals, but she changed her name and went to mystery suspense. Too bad.)

Happy writing and reading! And have a great weekend!

Devon