The Chase is ON!

Wow, did anyone else have a breathless moment when it looked as if Reed Sorenson, the 20 year old Chip Gnassi driver of the #40 car, was going to snatch a win from Kasey Kahne last night at Sonoma? His gas gamble petered out a mile from the finish line, but hey, he threw everything he had into the strategy, and good for him. Still, Kasey had the car to beat, and he deserved the win. But Reed earned my respect.

I like the idea of trying something different. Forget tires, forget pit times, forget riding the low or the high line - get down to basics. Betting it all on a splash of gas was gutsy, and even though Reed looked totally dejected by his 21st place finish, he deserves kudos. He tried the ultimate strategy - did he have enough gas to cross the finish line without a pit stop? Not this time. But I liked his thinking. Go flat out, put it all on the table, don't hold anything back.

That's how I hope to write. Throw it all on the track, don't hold back. If it doesn't work, well, it doesn't work. But I'll have tried.

By the way, the Richmond race this coming weekend promises to be a lulu. Kasey's Big Mo better stick with him if he wants to make the top ten for the Chase. Think of me tailgating and screaming my fool head off at the track. Can't wait!

Road Trips and the Writer

Well, I know I said I was buckling down when the last child went to university, but what can I say? When my husband offered a long weekend in Chicago, dinner at the Signature Club on the 95th floor of the John Hancock Building, and shopping on Michigan Avenue, was I going to say "No, dear, I need to stay home and work?" You may now quit laughing. We had a lovely time, I did work on seven pages on my laptop, and yes, having dinner next to plate glass window 1200 feet (is that right?) in the air is an experience I won't ask for again. I carefully looked out at the horizon, not down, LOL. It was fun, being a couple again, no children in tow, not worrying about their schedules, who had to be where when, etc.

Did I mention reading Rexanne Bechnal's OLD BOYFRIENDS? It's wonderful, and I highly recommend it. I wish I'd written it.

So, I'm working on WHATEVER LOLA WANTS, shaping up the first three chapters and synopsis, while I let SAVING THE SUN GOD sit. Time away from something new is what works for me - I can see it with "fresh eyes" when I pick it up again to give it a thorough reading. LOLA is rolling onto the hard drive at a mile a minute. I'm really liking the heroine, Genevieve Caradon, who has just adopted a multi-racial child in Macedonia, Georgia. Lola, the child, wants a daddy to dance with her at the father-daughter dance at her school, and Gen is determined to give Lola whatever she wants. Only Gen is middle-aged, never had a serious beau, and is a librarian who was raised by her two gay uncles. Lola, however, is determined. How she goes about getting men interested in her new mommy is a riot to write.

It's nice to be home. The dog and I are still listening for a car door to slam about 3:30, 4:00, and a crowd of kids to pile into the house, but we're loving the quiet.

Scary Moments

As a writer, I'll use violence when necessary in my mysteries. My westerns pull no punches. The American West was a violent time. When writing about murder and mayhem, I'm not too squeamish, which probably relates back to my days practicing criminal law. People do bad things. The redemption story - and appropriate punishment - are at the heart of most memorable mysteries.

But when my daughter's first day of classes at her university were cancelled because an escaped killer (two law enforcement officers slain) was on campus, I experienced one of those horrible mother moments when your stomach literally knots and you can't breathe. If I hadn't been with my writing friends, having our monthly plotting session, I'd have been flying down the road, pedal to the metal, to her school to protect my baby. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed, and we continued to work on plot problems, all the while praying for calm and the police. The bad guy was apprehended, the campus went back to normal, and I can breathe again.

Real life is much scarier than fiction, trust me. It takes a lot of prayer to see through the darkness.

One Down,One to Go

Well, the racin' child is now in hog heaven. Her first hour in her new dorm at her new university, and she met a guy who's been six times to the races at Bristol. I must say, we were impressed. Bristol is a hard ticket to come by! Of course, wouldn't you know that Kasey Kahne (her fav driver) came to town the morning we were to leave for school, four hours down the road? Sure enough, a Kasey Kahne appearance trumped getting checked into her dorm, and she and her best bud, Kate, rose at the crack of dawn to get in line to see KK. Only there was no line. Two teen-aged girls rising at six a.m. is not a pretty picture, especially when there was no need, LOL. Still, they got to see their Nascar hero, get his autograph, and stay awake at the same time. Going to university wasn't even a close second.

I'm living with to-do lists permanently attached to my hand these days. I'm hoping, once my oldest is back at her university in another week and a half, I'll be down to one thing to do - WRITE. It's been hit and miss this past week, and I'm feeling antsy about my hero and heroine. I'm anxious for them to get into more trouble, work their way out of it, and discover they love each other at the same time.

An interesting tid-bit from RWA Nationals - did you know that of the mass market paperbacks sold, 55% of them are romance? And of that 55%, 20-25% are classified as paranormals. Wow. Interesting statistic.

Before I forget, run out and buy John J. Lamb's THE MOURNFUL TEDDY. Good mystery, great read, even if you're not a teddy bear collector. Enjoy!

Long Time No Blog

It's been a blue moon since I've posted - no excuses. RWA was its usual wonderful experience. Great seminars, wonderful writers, good time had by all. I'm always energized by the collective creative energy that blossoms when imaginative people gather in one place. Then it was off to Lake Gaston for a short family break before school starts. We've never been there before, but we'll go again. Came home feeling fat and sassy, and having shot the hero (not in real life, this is a rough draft, LOL) in Saving the Sun God. Had to figure out who shot him and why - I'm always digging myself into plot holes I never expect to dig, but it's fun to climb out of it. Even maniacial plotters like moi turn into pantsers now and then.

The horrible heat has broken for a few days, and I took time to plant an ornamental given to us by a friend, as well as tackle the hairy bushes. Ripped out my fried tomato plants, sigh. It's a lot like writing through the hairy parts of a work -in- progress. Taking a few hours to trim back the wild branches in the story gives me a clearer view of where I'm going with the next chapters. Tearing out the dead parts makes the plot cleaner as well. Hate doing it, but it's better now rather than later. If I'm terribly fond of the discarded prose, I saved it to another file and delude myself that I'll be able to use it later. Never happens.

Oh, read James Lee Burke's Crusader's Cross while at the lake. I'm worried about Dave.

This has been one of those months. Been away from home too much. My writing suffers, even if I take my laptop and work sporadically. I love seeing other places, eating someone else's cooking, and being with friends and family. But enough is enough. I need my desk, my own bed, and my routine. Life is pretty much a-kilter at the moment because my youngest is shopping and packing to enter Architecture School at a top ten A-school in a few weeks. She's signed up for her courses, gotten her student ID card, bought extra-long sheets for the dorm beds, and is generally pretty together. I'm not sure I am. When both children (they're really adults now, but not to me!) fly the coop, leave the nest, hit the long road to self-sufficiency, etc., I'm going to wonder what hit me. How did the past twenty years get by me so quickly? I know every parent thinks this, but it's true. They're still our babies, no matter when they strike out to forge their new lives, and I'm going to miss them. And as far as I'm concerned, they were in diapers just yesterday. The cliches really do fit!

So, off to Atlanta next week for the Romance Writers of America conference. I love the energy that comes from assembled artists. It's almost as if we absorb creativity with every breath at a conference with the depth and scope of RWA's. The only down side is having to wear shoes - I really have a hard time in a hot summer slipping into anything but sandals on my feet. So if you see a lady in a suit wearing Dr. Scholl's, you'll know I gave up on the shoes. Say hi if we run into each other on an elevator!

Daytona!

We're back from the races in Daytona, and I have to say, they were wonderful. There's nothing like racing under the lights - the cars glitter and the excitement level ratchets up a ton. The evening cool helped also - it was hot as blue blazes in the sun. A weekend of racing, time at the beach, lots of games played with the children and their buddies (how humiliating to lose! EEK, I have to work on my Cranium skills!), all added up to a nice break. Now it's back to work!

I'm putzing with the current WIP. Made a huge dent in my TBR pile in Florida (beach, umbrella, book - what else is there?), and came out of them with an uneasy sense that I don't like a lot of the new stuff. Judgmental characters. Too much insight, answers that come too easily. Coincidences that solve the mystery. Flawed characters who are almost perfect in their flaws. So I found some old Georgette Heyers I'd packed for the girls (I have one Jane Austen fan who will read GH because she's as close as she can get to the Real McCoy, and honestly, how many times can you read Pride and Prejudice?), and fell in love with her all over again. Witty dialogue. Characters who struggle to understand and cope with situations beyond their control. Flaws that are both unique and very human. Charm mixed with pathos, frustration, and anger. What a writer she was. I'm green with envy.

Time to quit the putzing and get in gear. As Elliot Sadler (the #38 M&M car) says, put it in fourth and stay there. (Has anyone else noticed how cute he's gotten?)