Finding the Love Story of My Life

I've always loved to write. But when I got serious about it a year and a half ago, I had it in my mind to only write children's stories.Maybe because that's what most of my writer's training has been about. Don't get me wrong. I still write for that genre, but haven't had anything published yet. I seemed to have made a turn somewhere, though. I have been published, several times now. But the stories and articles I thought would be a stop-gap while I waited for my children's book to be published turned out instead to be something I love to write as well. I've discovered I have a voice for writing quirky heroines and heroes in sweet romance novels. I've always loved reading those types of books. I should have realized much sooner that's what I should be writing. Who knew?

Facebook Imitates Life

Just now, a friend on Facebook asked everyone several "remember when?" questions: first crush, first car, first kiss, best friends from high school. I really had to think back for some of those answers! But after I answered her questions, I realized I could use those memories and emotions for characters in my romance novel. I mean, why not? I remember how I felt during each of those big life events. I'll put those great memories to good use! Thanks, Lisa :)

Walk With Me

Are the scenes in your novel a little flat? Remember to use the five senses to make your story sound more authentic. Today I took a walk on our country road. The bright blue of the sky, the red, yellow, orange and green of the leaves all had me looking up for most of my walk. Thankfully, though I'm a klutz, I didn't run into anything. Added to the colorful scenery were the sounds of the birds. Blue Jays, Sparrows, Carolina Wrens and Yellow Finches serenaded me for the thirty minutes I walked beneath them. I felt honored.

When I left my house for my walk, my mind was not focused on writing. I needed to run to the grocery, do five loads of laundry, fix supper for me and my husband. But once I saw those colors, once my ears perked up to the chatter of the birds, I felt a calm come over me. It was as if God was telling me to slow down my thoughts. The more I walked, the more I could concentrate on what I've been writing.

The next time you need inspiration, or calm, or both, take a walk. No matter what the season, there's always something new to see and hear.

A Tale of Two Tales

Since having finished "Flossophy of Grace" which now resides with my publisher, I'm working on two different manuscripts. One, a romance about a tooth fairy, and the other, a romance aboard a yacht. At times, it seems dangerous to be working on more than one story at once. What if I get them mixed up in my mind as I plan what my next writing move should be? What if my yacht accidentally sets sail with my tooth fairy on board? (Hey, that's not bad...might have to use that.) But I find that working on one, while the other waits patiently minimized on my PC, I'm comforted. When I tire of one (and I will) I get to flip to the other. That way, my vivid imagination has a new playground to explore.

Book Review for a Friend

A couple of weeks ago, a very special friend of mine, Jo Ann Hernandez, asked me to write a review for her book, "White Bread Competition." I felt honored to be asked to review this wonderful book. The review can be read here:

http://www.examiner.com/x-7597-Childrens-Books-Examiner~y2009m10d13-Celebrate-Hispanic-heritage-month-with-White-Bread-Competition

Family at its Best

The following is from a true story told to me several years ago by my uncle. I've changed the names to protect the guilty.


What's That Smell?

"Can we come?" The boys were bouncing like over-inflated basketballs.
My Uncle Casey looked at his son, Arlen, "Do we have a choice?"
Arlen glanced at his two hyperactive sons. "At this point probably not. We didn’t get away fast enough. Remember, I told you, if you want to go somewhere without them, you have to sneak out the back door."
Casey nodded. "I forgot."
"Well, let’s get it over with, then."
The four males hopped in the car. The youngest ones in the back seat.
The twenty-five minute drive to town was noisy and obnoxious, thanks to the back seat add-ons.
"Pipe down back there," said their grandpa. They did. There was complete silence. For 23 whole seconds.
Parked on the street in downtown Kernalville, the boys were threatened within an inch of their lives.
"Don’t you dare leave this car. Don’t throw anything out of the windows. Don’t throw each other out the window. Don’t talk to anyone. No bloodshed, yours or anyone who happens to be passing by."
Both boys nodded. "We’ll be good," said Harvey, the older brother.
The younger, Howey, simply nodded.
My uncle and cousin eyed each other and shrugged. They knew the boys would get into some kind of trouble.Time would tell how horrific it would turn out to be.
Forty minutes later, the two adults returned. Supplies from the hardware store and grocery were loaded into the trunk. Arlen looked around. "No blood on the sidewalk. No broken glass or body parts. Huh. Do you suppose...?"
"What?"
“Is it possible nothing bad happened?"
Casey raised his eyebrows.
"Stranger things, right?"
Casey shrugged.
Car doors were opened, the men got in the front seat and fastened their seat-belts. Casey started the engine. As they pulled away from the curb, Arlen wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"
Both men immediately swiveled their heads toward the back seat.
"What did you do?" asked Casey.
Silence.
"I know you did something. You might as well spill it. Why does the inside of this car stink so bad?" He covered his nose with his right hand as he steered the car with his left. He opened his window.
Howey sighed and said, "Well, we were bored. You were gone so long, and we weren’t allowed to throw each other out the car windows, so we had to find something to do."
Harvey nodded in agreement.
"So…what did you do?" Arlen was now fully turned in his seat to better interrogate his offspring. His eyes were watering from the stench.
Casey kept driving, but kept glancing in the rear-view mirror as the boys told their tale.
Harvey continued the story. "We got out of the car, because, you know, the boredom and all. We started walking down the sidewalk. We didn’t talk to anyone, Just like you told us. So we just kept walking. We didn’t cause any bloodshed."
"Just like you told us," added Howey
"We came to an alley."
"And…" prompted their dad. He now had trouble even keeping his eyes open due to the noxious fumes. He opened the window next to him.
The boys looked at each other for reassurance to finish the tale.
"The alley was dirty and smelly, so we wanted to check it out."
Arlen sighed. "Of course you did."
"The farther we went in to it, the worse it smelled."
"So we wanted to see what smelled."
"Of course you did." Arlen shook his head.
"Don’t your boys make you proud?" asked Casey. He received a scowl from his son.
"Go on," Arlen prompted.
"Way down to the end of the alley…"
"The very end…"
"Was this possum."
“Dead possum."
"It wasn’t moving."
“Imagine that." Casey raised his eyebrows.
"So we went closer."
"I touched it first."
"No I did!"
"Boys!" Their dad coughed as it became harder to breathe.
"We touched it and it didn’t move."
"Then we kicked it a little."
"Still didn’t move."
"It was really fat."
"Fat? Like maybe it was going to have babies?" asked Casey.
"No. Just fat."
"Like a balloon."
The men could see where this was going. Being mid-July in Indiana, it was hot, sticky and humid. Road-kill often bloated in the heat and resembled, well, a balloon.
Their dad sighed. "So what did you do then?"
"Kicked it like a soccer ball."
"Threw it like a foot ball."
"Okay. Um, but why is the stench so awful?"
"I’m afraid to ask," said Casey through the fingers covering his nose and mouth.
"It might have something to do with the contest."
"What kind of contest?" asked Arlen.
"Squirting."
"Yeah. We took turns jumping on the dead balloon-possum and squirting its smelly guts on each other." He beamed at his brother.
Ah. The picture was now complete, as they pulled into their driveway
"Dad," said Arlen, "I told you to sneak out the back door."
Casey opened his car door and took a gasp of fresh air. "You get the boys into the back yard. I’ll get the hose."

********
Today I'm participating in a mass blogging! WOW! Women on Writing has gathered a group of blogging buddies to write about family relationships. Why family relationships? We're celebrating the release of Therese Walsh's debut novel today. The Last Will of Moira Leahy (Random House, October 13, 2009) is about a mysterious journey that helps a woman learn more about herself and her twin, whom she lost
when they were teenagers. Visit the Muffin www.wow-womenonwriting.com/blog.html to read what Therese has to say about family relationships and view the list of all my blogging buddies. And make sure you visit
http://www.theresewalsh.com/   to find out more about the author.

Must Love Cats

The new anthology, Must Love Cats is now published at Midnight Showcase Fiction. My story, "Purr" is one of four in the book. It can be found here:

http://www.lulu.com/content/7763897

More info to come...

Has it Been a Year Already?

Earlier this week, I was privileged to once again see two patients who only get to come to the dentist annually. These two special young men are mentally challenged. Their insurance only allows them to have preventative care once a year. I wish we could see them more often. Their dental health would be much improved.

A few months ago, I wrote an article about them for You and Me Magazine. It tells of a very special experience I had with them one year ago. The dentist and staff I work with still talk about that event to this day. The article can be read here:

http://www.youandmemagazine.com/articles/dentistry-help-from-unexpected-places

It made me feel so good to be reminded of the blessings I receive by helping others.

Write What You Know

Isn't that what writers have always heard? Write about something you're already familiar with. Something you wouldn't have to do much research on because you know it so well. Well, that's what I did. My upcoming novel, "Flossophy of Grace" is about a dental hygienist who falls in love with her patient. Since I happen to be a hygienist, and have been for 25 years, I felt I knew a little about the subject.

Once I got into my story, the words just flowed. I even found myself looking for story details when I was cleaning a patent's teeth. I took mental snapshots of my dental operatory so I could incorporate them into the background of my story. I still had all of the usual roadblocks any other writer runs into namely, how the two main characters meet, what their conflicts are, and just how mean to make the antagonist. But the basic meat of the story, the everyday life of the heroine was fun for me. Because I was writing about me!