Best Laid Schemes...

by Anna Campbell

Welcome to the launch of...

What's that you say?

NO LAUNCH????

Guys, so very, very sorry but we were meant to have one of the infamous lair launches today (in fact people have started calling the Banditas the ladies who launch).

We had the cabana boys on standby. Extra margaritas. Deck chairs lined up with Sven on duty for massages. We'll just have to have a party anyway!

Sadly, publication of THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF GHOST ROMANCE which I was so looking forward to introducing today has been delayed until late next year. You'll all have to wait to meet Calista and Miles and Isabella and Josiah. Goodness me, they'll have to wait for their happy endings too which is MUCH harder on them, I'm sure!

I was all geared up to tell the world about "The Chinese Bed", my story in the anthology, including a contest on my website (thank you to the people who have entered - you're already automatically entered in the replacement contest where I'm giving five people their choice from my backlist).

Do you know where the quote "the best-laid schemes" comes from? It's a poem by Robbie Burns called To a Mouse, on Turning Her up in her Nest with a Plough:

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An 'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Hmm, not sure if the cabana boys count as mice or men - Paolo looks scared most of the time. And after a few margaritas, I'll feel neither grief nor pain!

Hic!

Actually I think the mouse in the poem has come along to offer her condolences. Either that or Ermingarde hasn't been undertaking her rat-catching duties the way she's supposed to. Sheesh, you can't get good help these days!

I had originally planned on doing a giveaway of the anthology here today (another best-laid scheme that went agley). But hey, why should you suffer? Two commenters today will win their choice from my backlist (which explains the covers illustrating the blog). If you're not sure which book you'd like, please check out my books page on my website: http://annacampbell.info/books.html

Just tell me about a best-laid scheme of yours that went astray and you'll go in the draw.

Speaking of best-laid schemes, I'm away at the Brisbane Writers Festival this weekend so I may only be around sporadically (no, not because I'm drowning my sorrows in a barrel of margaritas or a barrel of cabana boys - you guys have SUCH naughty imaginations!). But I WILL get back, promise!

Now, where did that mouse get to?

In Search Of Balance

posted by Loucinda McGary aka Aunty Cindy

About a year ago, I stumbled across an online site that calculated a more complete horoscope than just your sun sign. In addition to being a Sagittarius with Aquarius rising, one of my other important 'houses' (and of course I don't remember which one) was in Libra. Maybe this is why I'm constantly trying to find balance.

I have this tendency to go overboard (I know, I know, no surprise) in certain areas. And I've learned from vast prior experience that the "too much of a good thing" definitely applies to me. So when my natural enthusiasm (and any horoscope book or site will tell you, we Sagis are always enthusiastic) for something new gets a bit out of hand, I find myself working hard to counter balance.

In my everyday pursuits, I can often go too far in one direction or the other. I used to 'pull all-nighters' in the reading and writing arenas. Or I invested waay too much time and effort on a particular project. Or I decided to add avocados to very dish I prepared because they were just sooo darn tasty, and they were on sale so I bought fifteen!

Getting the picture?

So what has this got to do with writing? A few things, actually.

Back in the "good ole days" when I wrote in and around my Dreaded Day Job (where I invested too much time and effort), I started many a story. I LURVED the idea, the characters, the setting and I would rush home from work, nuke some dinner and write for an hour or two before I had to put myself and the child to bed. On the weekends, I'd spend every spare moment scribbling (yes, I had little or no social life).

This writing frenzy usually lasted about four or five weeks before I burnt myself out. Then after a few weeks of actually catching up on housework, yard work, and family obligations, I'd get another story idea and the same scenario would repeat itself. It was only after I left the DDJ that I learned how to balance my writing and the other aspects of my life. And I actually FINISHED manuscripts!

Alas, that was not the end of my balancing act.

Once I had finished the first draft and started revisions, the perfectionism set in. Maybe I have Virgo in one of my astrological houses too, because I could not leave my manuscripts alone. Actually, I wasn't so much a perfectionist as I was a tinkerer. Every time I got ready to send something out, whether to an editor, agent, or critique partner, I'd see something I just had to change.

It was only after I joined the ranks of published authors that I finally overcame my tinkeritis. Deadlines will do that to you. So in this case, it was a matter of finding my balance or DIE! (That's another thing about us Sagis, we tend to be slightly over-dramatic.) I gradually learned to embrace the mantra of 'doing the best I can at that point in time.' A much better alternative than adapt or die!

Now that I've moved into the heady realm of multi-published author, I'm struggling to keep my balance again. At this time last year, I'd just finished writing the first draft of Book #3 when I went to RWA National in Washington DC. While I was there, I signed copies and talked about Book #1, while at the same time I was planning the promotional tour for Book #2 (which started in August)! ACK!! Do you see why I was tipsy without tasting even a wee drop?

I survived that craziness none the worse for wear. But now I'm at it again! For the past three weeks I'm been on a wild and crazy blog tour for The Wild Irish Sea. Yes, it's been fun but also exhausting. Plus it has seriously cut into my writing time for my current work-in-progress. Oh, and did I mention I've also been on the great agent search? ACK!!!

I really had NO CLUE how much more than simply writing a good story was involved in this publishing game. But, of course, now that I'm in up to my arm-pits, I'm not about to stop. Seeing my books on the shelf and hearing from readers who have enjoyed my stories is even better than those yummy avocados! But I desperately need to work on my balancing act.

This multi-tasking is highly over-rated!

So this is where I call on my Banditas and all the BBs for help. What do you do to maintain or regain your balance? Yoga? Color-coded agendas? Lamaze breathing?

Any and ALL suggestions are greatly appreciated!

Secret Formula?

by Susan Sey

I hit a writing milestone just before Christmas. I turned in Book 2 on my first contract. Now you'd think Book 1 would be the milestone, wouldn't you? The first one, the big kahuna. The one that merited The Call we writers love to talk about for years and years to come. But I'll tell you the truth--it's Book 2 that I'm really proud of.


And why am I prouder of Book 2 than Book 1? Because I wrote Book 1 (Money, Honey, coming July 6 from Berkley Sensation--have I mentioned that?) under absolutely no pressure. Nobody cared if I wrote it, nobody cared if I finished it, nobody cared what I did between "once upon a time" and "happily ever after." It was my book, my baby, & somebody--goodness only knows why--liked it enough to buy it. That was lucky. Not that I'm knocking luck--I'm darn grateful for it--but with Book 1, I presented the publishing world with a done deal.

Book 2, though? That's a different story. That one you write with somebody looking over your shoulder from start to finish. It's the one you have to outline before you write, & get the outline approved. Then you have to write something approximating the outline, and pray you've managed to turn the outline into a story that has even a little bit of the verve & charm that sold people on the first book.

It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that much. I wrote Book 2 two separate times--not two drafts so much as in two completely separate books. I wrote it the first time in about eight months. I wrote it the second time in two months. I don't recall anything between Halloween & Christmas, I truly do not. But I finally got it right. I did the work & I'm proud of it.

I thought I was in for a well-deserved vacation but my agent has recently informed me that we should now be thinking about what we want to propose to my editor for a follow up to Book 2 (now sitting on her desk awaiting jugment.) So for the past two weeks, I've been racking my addled brains for fresh story ideas. For some gorgeous, high-concept pitch that's going to convince the powers that be to take another flier on me in an economy that (to put it politely) blows.

I'll tell you this--for all the flack romance gets for being formulaic, this was not as easy as it should have been. If there's a secret formula out there for writing a best-selling romance, will somebody please send it my way?

In fact, hey, why don't you? If you had to write a recipe for your perfect romance novel, what would it look like? Do you like your heros dark & broody? Funny & smart? Dangerous & suave? What about your heroines? Shy & sheltered? Kick butt & unapologetic? When a dog takes center stage, do you cringe or melt? Give us the skinny!

Dust Never Sleeps!

by Anna Campbell

When I was in my third year at Queensland University in Brisbane, I moved out of residential college and into a dilapidated old wooden house on stilts across the river from the uni.

It was a really magical year for me, still one I look back at as one of my happiest ever. I used to get the ferry to uni - how cool is that? I did a lot of wild and wonderful things - much research for future romance writing! Snork!

I shared the house with two other girls and one of them - let's call her Katrina largely because that was her name - had a huge craze on Neil Young.


Perhaps I was out and about so much because I really, REALLY didn't take to his music and in a rickety old house, we couldn't escape each other's musical tastes. Which was a slight problem when our original friend moved out and a cello student moved in. It sounds romantic to live with a musician - believe me, all those scales and technical exercises lose their charm pretty quickly. Like within five minutes!

Of course, anyone who shares a house with me is completely privileged to listen to classical music (at the time, I was into very noisy opera - yes, women with horns superglued to their helmets!) or David Bowie or Human League or world music or whatever else I played. But that's another story.

Anyway, one of those endless, lugubrious Neil Young albums (in complete contrast to my endless, lugubrious operas) was called RUST NEVER SLEEPS. Oh, man, did that man need someone to come and tickle him! He was not a happy bunny!

In my life since, RUST NEVER SLEEPS has turned into DUST NEVER SLEEPS.

Housework is on my mind at the moment because for the past couple of months, I've had a string of visitors. I love having visitors, especially at this time of year when you can sit out drinking under the pergola and look at the lake and then go for a swim to cool off. But as sure as eggs, visitors means I have to clean the house.

OUCHY OUCHY OUCHY OUCH!!!!

I firmly believe housework can kill you. And as proof, I offer this picture. Wilhelmina Jane Smith, shown here, was a healthy, happy, vigorous shop dummy until she picked up that vacuum cleaner. And then it was all over, Red Rover! R.I.P., Wilhelmina!

At least death by vacuuming is quick. Poor devils tortured with the sponge mop can linger for days before they finally achieve a merciful release.

One thing I really hate about housework (and believe me, the list is long!) is that you do it, everything looks fabulous, Vogue Interiors could take photos of the shine in your tiles. And that lasts for all of about five minutes! It's entirely frustrating! Then the place is back to looking like an angry bear has been through it on a rampage. Which means you just have to turn around and do it all again. Completely inefficient!

Is there any housework I don't mind doing? Actually I don't mind ironing which is odd as it's a job a lot of people REALLY hate. I make a cup of tea, I put on some music, and just go off into my own world while I do it. It's rather Zen! I wouldn't say I love it, but it's not a complete pain. And I'm delighted that now I work from home, I don't actually DO very much ironing.

Um, what else? There must be something else...

Tidying the bookcases. Love anything to do with the bookcases.

Laundry. I actually don't mind doing laundry. I love the clean, fresh smell of washing straight off the line on a sunny day.

Any more?

Um...

Thinking, thinking...

No, I think that's it for household chores I don't mind.

As far as chores I hate, I despise cleaning the bathroom. And sadly, that's one you can't get out of. Unless you expect your visitors to run screaming in horror from the ghoulish vision. That's even a job I have to do when I'm NOT getting visitors.

I think the only thing that will ever get me enthusiastic about housework is something like the picture on the right. Snork!

So are you a great housekeeper? What's your favorite job in the house? What's your least favorite job in the house? Are you a 'house is tidy all the time person'? Or are you a 'scramble to tidy the chaos once the visitors arrive' kinda gal? And are you a Neil Young fan? Perhaps we could arrange for Hunky Hal (above) to tickle Mr. Young with the feather duster!

Hurry Up and Wait

posted by Loucinda McGary aka Aunty Cindy

While certain other Banditas were busy cavorting around Europe (AHEM!), Aunty came home from RWA National and had to sequester herself deep in the writing caves of the Lair in order to meet a deadline. Well, I no sooner extricated myself from the deep dark recesses than I was called to Jury Duty!

HRUMPH! I scarcely had time for a brief neck massage from Sven before I had to do my civic duty and show up at the county courthouse at the horrifyingly unholy hour of 8 a.m. Now everyone who has spent more than five minutes here in the Lair knows that there are very few things that will entice Aunty to pry her eyes open at such an early hour. Cruises, flights to exotic locations in far away time zones, and scantily clad hunks all fit into this category. Doing ones civic duty by participating in jury selection does NOT! It is not that Aunty is opposed in any way to our fine judicial system with a right to a speedy and fair trial, but PLEASE, start at a bit more civilized hour.

After arriving promptly at the county courthouse, it quickly became clear to me why very few courtroom dramas, be they books or movies, mention the jury selection process. For the most part, the whole thing is BOOORRRRING! A classic case study in "Hurry Up and Wait."

First there's the long wait in the shuffling check-in line along with the other 299 people who were told to report at the exact same time. UGH! Then it's time to wait for names to be called for the first panel. The clock drags ever so slowly while a movie is started on the overhead TV (a comedy with Robin Williams which I've already seen and did not find amusing). Eventually, three panels are called and I'm not on any of them.

Just when I started to think I'd get a lunch break without being called, a third round of names is announced and I'm in it. I walked to the elevators along with the 59 others, then waited to be let into the designated courtroom. After about fifteen endless minutes, we were allowed inside where once again, there are not enough seats, so 20 names were called to sit in what the judge refered to as "the bleachers" (the jury box and a row of seats in front of it). I wasn't one of the chosen 20.

The judge started to lecture all of us on "presumed innocence" and "burden of proof" before he decided it was time for lunch and turned us all out for an hour and a half. Blessed relief! All 60 of us arrived back promptly. The judge and his assistants and the two attorneys did not. After another interminable 20 minutes, we are called back into the courtroom and the endless questioning of individual jurors began. Everyone in the jury box got asked the same questions over and over, and everyone gave basically the same answers over and over.

Those of us not in "the bleachers" began to nod off. The judge noticed and gave us a ten minute break. When we returned, roughly half the people in "the bleachers" were let go and eleven more names called to replace them. Lucky me, I wound up in the second group. Now I had to actually appear semi-conscious. But I lucked out again, and the judge decided to send us home early and told everyone remaining (in both the audience and the bleachers) to be back at 9 a.m. tomorrow.

I did appreciate the extra hour of sleep, but was still not happy when I returned the next morning. Most of my fellow potential jurors seemed to share my opinion, especially after twenty, then thirty, then forty minutes passed while we all sat in the hallway. Finally at 9:45, the judge's assistant opened the door of the courtroom and told us we were all dismissed. Turns out the defendant 'cut a deal' with the district attorney while we all cooled our heels! ARGH!!!

All right, now that I've finished my whiny tale of woe, I'll admit that I couldn't escape the parallels of jury selection and writing.

First, you work and slave weeks and months over your baby/masterpiece until you have it in a resonably readable shape. Time to start the submission process! First you craft (with the help of your CPs and other writer-buddies) a flawlessly clever query letter, which you dutifully send off to meticulously researched agents and/or editors.

Then comes the hurry up and wait part!

With any luck at all, you will hear back from your query somewhere between six hours and six weeks. Again, with some small modicum of luck, you will receive at least one positive response, and you will then send off your partial manuscript and synopsis. This time, your wait will most likely range from six weeks to six months, maybe longer.

Now you will need a very large measure of luck and the correct star-allignment in order to receive the much coveted "request for a full." After screaming and telling all your online and in-person friends and unsuspecting family members, you hurry up and send your entire manuscript.

Weeks and months crawl by as you try not to think about your full manuscript that is under consideration... Who am I KIDDING?!?! I open my email every darn day holding my breath, and I know YOU do too! When the phone rings unexpectedly, I leap on it like that proverbial duck on a June bug.

Waiting and hoping for that magical SOMEDAY when "The Call" happens! And eventually, oh yes, that wonderful, mystical day really does arrive! But are your "hurry up and wait" days over? Aunty is sad to inform you that they most certainly are NOT.

You will still need to hurry up and wait for your revisions to be done and approved, for your copyedits to arrive, for your cover to be created. And most of all, you have to wait and Wait and WAIT for your finished book to actually be released.

This takes months, sometimes YEARS! And when you write and sell another book, you get to do it ALL OVER AGAIN!

But unlike Jury Duty, it is absolutely WORTH THE WAIT!!! Aunty guarantees it!

When was the last time you had to hurry up and wait? Are there some things (like a massage from Sven) that you don't mind waiting for? And have you ever been called to Jury Duty? Did you hate it as much as Aunty?

"Never Tell Me The Odds!"

by Loucinda McGary aka Aunty Cindy

I'm sure you recognize the title of this post. It is one of my favorite movie quotes and is from the original Star Wars (now called Episode 4). C3PO has just told Han Solo the statistical probability of successfully navigating through an asteroid belt (a truly astronomical number) and Han snarls in reply, "Never tell me the odds!"

In my previous career, I toiled as an analyst for the State of California. I played with numbers and statistics every day and got to do fun things like budget change proposals and cost benefit analyses. Ah yes, Aunty loved to 'run those numbers' and make them yield answers!

Then I entered the crazy world of writing for publication, and numbers ceased to be my friends or even my friendly tools. The numbers I discovered in my pursuit of publication were not the answers I wanted to hear. "Never tell me the odds!" became my rallying cry!

If I had stopped to think about the odds, I probably would have never entered the Golden Heart. Only 70 entries were selected as finalists out of 1000. My manuscript had to be judged in the top 7%. YIKES! And yet all 20 of us Banditas beat those odds and went on to final in the Golden Heart in 2006!

A few days ago, our talented Bandita (and my wonderful CP) Jo Robertson beat some very significant odds and became a semi-finalist in Amazon's Break Out Novel contest. Jo's historical manuscript Frail Blood became one of only 100 entries out of 10,000 to be selected. Yes, Jo's manuscript is in the top 1%! I remember when we discussed whether or not she should enter the contest. Since there was no entry fee and the entries were electronic, I remember telling her, "What do you have to lose?" We did not discuss the odds!

But Jo's recent success and the many other successes we Banditas have had since 2006 led me to start thinking about the odds. I found some very interesting "food for thought" and I'd like to share a little hypothetical situation and the resultant numbers:

Let's pretend that there are 1 million people who decide they are going to write a romance novel for the very first time. (Yes, the number is probably much higher but play along with me for now.) Based on what Aunty has seen and read over the years, out of those 1,000,000 only 10% (or probably much less) will ever finish writing that novel. (It's a lot more work than most people think!)

So in our imaginary sample, we now have 100,000 finished (at least in the first draft) romance novels. Probably only 25% of those will ever be submitted anywhere. I'm not talking queries or partials here, but full manuscripts. And out of those 25,000 only half or 50% will be submitted to someone who even publishes romances (sad but true, I've read this on many editors' blogs)! Or if they do publish romance, they don't accept the sub-genre of romance the writer has written.

We are now left with 12,500 novels that have even a glimmer of a chance of being published out of our original 1 million hopefuls. Or slightly over 1%! Only 1 out of 100. So now you know, if you have ever finished writing a manuscript and submitted it somewhere, you are very special indeed!

But if you think those numbers are depressing, consider this. There were slightly over 8,000 romance novels published in 2007 (according to the ROMStat report in the Sept. 08 RWR). Now before you tell Aunty that 12,500 books vying for 8,000 slots doesn't sound that bad... REMEMBER: these are first time novelists. The vast majority of the 8,000 romances publishers will buy are written by existing authors. Someone with a 'track record.' Someone with a 'readership base.'

Aunty's best guess is that only about 5% of those 8,000 books published will actually be by first time authors. Those 12,500 hopefuls are vying for 400 slots. Yes, dear readers, only about 1/3 of 1% of those 12,500 writers will ever see their book published! But in the spirit of Han Solo, some new writers will fill those 400 slots. Someone will beat those odds!

Writing is definitely not for the 'faint of heart!' Nor is it for those who are intimidated by long odds. After all, 1/3 of 1% might be an abysmally small number, but it is still better than the probability of successfully negotiating an asteroid belt!

Have you ever done something even though your chances of success were extremely small? Run some numbers by us. Dazzle Aunty and the rest of the Banditas and BBs with your daring exploits!

My Life In Hair

by Caren Crane

I have posted lots of comments about my hair lately. All this hair talk led me to reflect on my hair and the role it has played in my life. Hair is the single most defining feature of a person, for me, and having uncooperative hair ruins my entire day. History, hairstory, it's one and the same in my world. So indulge me and let's take a trip down hair memory lane.

1968: I have pics of me with the classic pixie haircut (rather like the poor child in this picture). Unfortunately, I had insanely crooked teeth (even as a toddler) and a big, goofy smile. My hair was then (as it is now) fine and straight with no discernable body. An unfortunate style for me, but I'm sure it was low-maintenance for my poor mother.



1977: A new hairdo swept the country: the Dorothy Hamill. See how cute Dorothy was? I was not so cute, but Dorothy seduced me. I was 12 and anxious for a real haircut. Since the pixie days my hair had been long and straight, with rather unfortunate bangs. I bit the bullet and got the Dorothy Hamill. The sad results may be seen in my junior high yearbook pictures, though I did develop amazing skills with the blow dryer and curling iron in these years.

1979: High school. I spent countless hours in front of the mirror curling, brushing, lifting and spraying. Finally, I succumbed to the trend of the early '80s: the perm. My poor mother permed my hair countless times, cussing and swearing never to do it again every time. The results were not quite like the ones seen here, but close. I segued from long (frankly, very attractive) permed hair to a short and incredibly unattractive Princess-Diana type cut in 1982. I still have no idea why I cut off all my gorgeous curly hair, but we lived in Houston at the time and I was sweltering, seventeen and depressed. I'm sure that's what did it.

1984: Beware the savage jaw, indeed (that's for you Bowie fans!). College and working in a women's clothing store required me to step up the hair. My hair was asymmetrical, rather like this pic in spirit, except it was a little longer and it was the 80s, so I punked it up with DEP and it stood straight up on top. I was hip, happening and way too cool for school. Which could be the reason I ended up withdrawing from college for a couple of years before finding my way back - to engineering school! (I had the best hair in the college of engineering - okay, there wasn't much competition. *g*)

1991: At this point, I was working in the corporate world, had a young child and not much money. For several years, the hair was long and straight, mainly pulled back in a ponytail, with bangs. But I got it cut regularly, deep conditioned, did hot oil treatments and always paid lots of attention to the bangs. Bangs: feathered, sometimes sideswept. Ponytail: high, low, teased at crown, you name it. Whatever I could muster the energy to do, I did!



1999: Sometime in the late 90s, I emerged from the fog of having three young children and decided I needed, once again, a real haircut. After quite a bit of searching, I found the long layers of my dreams. My hair looked quite like this picture. I loved it, even though it took 20 minutes of blow drying and three round brushes to style. It was dead sexy. *sigh* Remind me, why did I ever cut it off?

2006: Oh, yes. Now that I was past a significant birthday, I felt the need to lose the long, sexy layers. (At this point, some dear friend should have slapped me silly, but alas none are quite as take-charge as I am. *sigh*) My hair had been trending shorter over the years and in 2006, I went short and sassy. Thus, I ended up with the hair you see in my picture on the right of the blog. So cute (but not dead sexy)!

Today: Right now, I am letting it grow a little longer again, easing back toward medium-length layers. Maybe I'll be happy with that for a few months. Maybe it will help me bring sexy back. Please!

I have, as you can guess, spared you the many hairstyles in between - and there were more than I can recall. I am defined by my hair and it invariably reflects how I feel about myself and my life. I can't even get into hair color right now, that's a whole 'nother blog! Sometimes I fear it's incredibly shallow and vain of me, but most of the time I just glance sidelong into mirrors as I pass and admire my handiwork. *g*

So, how do you feel about your hair? Do you wash and go or, like me, spend far too much time styling, spraying, and adjusting each strand? Have you fallen victim to any trendy hairstyles? I can't wait to hear everyone's hairstory!

Communing with Nature

by Trish Milburn

As writers, we spend a lot of time indoors in front of our computers. Not only are we spending time writing and doing online research, but there are e-mails to answer, blogs to read, funny YouTube videos to watch. Even when we're doing something we enjoy, sometimes it begins to build stress within us and we need an outlet, something that doesn't require a computer or sitting on out butts. Something basic and simple.

For me, that wonderful release is spending time outdoors -- and more than just doing yard work. I love to go to state or national parks, out away from the city, away from the noise, away from my ever-expanding to-do list. I like to just sit and breathe in the scent of the forest after a rain, listen to the water falling over rocks in a stream, watch the birds float up high on the thermals, drink in the beauty of a clear, blue sky on a crisp, sunny autumn day. Just thinking about it makes me smile.

I've been very busy lately, and that's not likely to change anytime soon. But a couple of weeks ago before it began to get cold, I took most of the day off to spend with my husband. We drove about 90 miles from our house to one of my favorite state parks.

We walked hand-in-hand in the woods, sat and watched waterfalls, and strolled along a sandy beach. After we left the park, we drove through some rural areas dotted with big fields of cows and rolling, wooded hills filled with trees that are beginning to show some fall color. It was all relaxing and just what I needed before facing a lot of deadlines and responsibilities in the next couple of months.

I think we often forget to take time to do simple things like take walks in the woods. Whether we're writers or attorneys or stay-at-home moms, we've nearly forgotten how to just be. Even while trying to enjoy a day of freedom, our brains are constantly trying to interrupt to tell us about all those things back home that we have to do. This mindset causes a lot of stress that's unnecessary and unhealthy.

Does spending time outdoors help you relax? If so, where is your favorite place to commune with nature?
~~~~
Hey, if you can't commune with nature today, why not commune with your Internet connection and scoot on over to the Romantic Times site to vote for OUT OF SIGHT, my entry in the American Title contest? The second round of voting is under way, and I really want to "stay on the island." :) Thanks!

Lucky

by Susan Seyfarth

I never used to think of myself as lucky. In fact, when I was younger, I considered myself actively unlucky. After all, I was the short, glasses-wearing, flat-as-North-Dakota girl in a family full of curvy, long-legged women with 20/20 vision. Throw in a full-body case of freckles & you have a junior high experience not to be envied.

But I got older. I lived a little. I discovered that what you don't have can't sag & then I got some really, really cute glasses. I realized that there's something to be said for never being taller than your date. And guess what? Girls who read their way through the ugly years are interesting to talk to, which is a bonus when you're finally dating boys old enough to care what a girl has to say.
On the whole, I've felt luckier & luckier with every passing year. Happier. More comfortable in my skin. I've gotten good at just letting the old freak flag fly, you know? Embracing my inner geek. And my outer geek. And the geek that pops out sometimes when I am taken by surprise. All of them.

But own up to writing romance novels? To strangers? That was hard.

See, ever since I quit my job to raise my baby, now 4, people have been asking me how I stay sane at home all day. (It comes up even more often now that we've been joined by my youngest, almost 1.) The answer, of course, is that I write. Romance novels. Unpublished romance novels. Yes, I do have a degree in English. And an MBA. I guess it's just harder to write good smut than you'd think.

And since that's not a conversation I care to have with everybody at my husband's office Christmas party, I started just patting the asker on the arm, smiling vacantly & saying, "Oh, honey, I'm not sane."

But then my husband, who's been treating my writing as a career since well before I ever did, called me out. He said to me, “You’re a WRITER, Susan. You’re good at it, and I’m proud of you. If you don’t start telling people about it, I’m going to.” Gulp. Time to embrace my inner geek again. All of her, this time.

Shortly after this conversation, we went on vacation with my husband's best friend from grad school and his friend’s family. Now bear in mind, this friend’s wife is a VERY accomplished woman. We both have lovely husbands & charming children, but she went & piled on a high-powered career, some scary smarts, & the ability to type really, really fast on a blackberry. Terrifying.

And of course she asked the dreaded question: What do you do to stay sane at home all day with an infant? One look at DH told me I was about to be outed, so I sucked in a deep breath, kissed my credibility with this woman goodbye and confessed. "I write romance novels."

We endured the requisite moment of awkward silence and then she said the unthinkable: “I’ve been writing a pirate novel for YEARS!”

And thus a fast friendship -- and happy critique partnership -- was born.

Now can anybody guess who this woman was? None other than our very own Kirsten Scott. The latest bandita to do us proud & SELL! We went to our first RWA National Conference together in Reno, & were first time GH finalists together in Atlanta. She’s been with me every step of the way on this bizarre, winding career path, and I've been lucky to have her. And I owe it all to my husband, his exquisite taste in friends, & his uncompromising determination to be proud of any old thing I do.

Am I the luckiest girl in the world or what?

So how about you? Has the universe ever rewarded you for being exactly who you are? How have the stars blessed you lately? Where's the luck in your life?

Everything Going Your Way?

by Caren Crane

I hear that Mercury is retrograde these days and that, supposedly, messes with communication, computers...writing. I'm not sure I believe wholeheartedly in astrology, but I can relate to things not going as planned.

This morning, I carefully ground beans and brewed the breakfast of mothers around the world: coffee. I adore coffee. I never drank coffee until I was almost 30. Coincidentally (?) I began drinking coffee when my youngest was three months old (still breast feeding), my father was in ICU (not expected to live) and the two of us were in LA (Lower Alabama) with my four siblings and their significant others, awaiting our father's untimely demise. Coffee, the beverage I disdained for 29-1/2 years, suddenly became my Best Friend Forever. I look forward to coffee every morning and get surly when it isn't just right.

Today, it wasn't just right. My organic half and half, which was perfectly fine yesterday, picked today to clabber in my coffee. ACK! It is impossible to make coffee with off-kilter half and half into the coffee of your dreams. I tried. I shook, stirred, added milk. It is drinkable, but not what I really wanted.

I feel like that about my writing lots of days. The idea I wanted to convey is on the page, but it's not quite what I wanted to say. Almost. In the neighborhood. Pretty darn close. Not what I really wanted. I will keep trying and polishing and editing. Someday (please, Lord, soon!), it will be what I wanted. Or at least really close.

The coffee, however, is a lost cause. I will be forced to go to the grocery and buy more half and half today. I will also write some new pages. Most importantly, I am going back to the NC State Fair this afternoon to use up those remaining ride tickets and have another apple dumpling. Maybe I will look back on today and decide things did go my way, after all. Apple dumplings make any coffee better. *g*

So, what about you? Is everything going your way these days or have you had some disappointments or setbacks? In your perfect, daydream life, what would be going better? Let us know! Meanwhile, I'll be dreaming of unclabbered half and half...

A League of Our Own

by Joan Kayse

I'm a bit late posting this morning because it's taken me several hours to dig out from beneath the mess of baking entries for the Kentucky State Fair. In a few hours I will take the sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies, brownies, date bars and pumpkin chip cupcakes in to be judged. (The pineapple upside down cake flopped....dang).

Every year on that Sunday when I'm firing up my oven I find a movie or program or something to listen to while I whisk away. For several years it was the 1940's movie "State Fair"...the one with Jeanne Crain. Other years it's been the "I Love Lucy" or "Andy Griffith" marathon. One year it was Elvis movie extravaganza, LOL.

This year, I had DVR'd the Tom Hanks movie "A League of Their Own." I just really like this movie. All the characters are so distinctive. The plot has you cheering for this diverse group of women who were able to find an acceptable venue to show off their athletic skills and play the game they loved. Each lady has a different reason for playing. Each lady grows as a person and finds strengths inside themselves. Tom Hanks as the manager goes from a drunken has been to a coach who rediscovers the joy of the game.

There is one scene/one line that really jumped out at me.

Jimmy Dugan, the coach is confronting Dottie Hensen about her decision to leave the team just as they are going to the World Series. Dottie's been in turmoil a good bit of the movie conflicted about maintaining the social mores of the day with her true love of baseball. She has had to put up with her spoiled, whiny little sister who blames every bad thing on her "better." She's been worried about her husband who is off fighting the Germans including a close call when she fears he's been killed. She's been carrying all the responsibility including for the team until Jimmy is finally able to pull himself up out of the gutter.

But now her husband is home and she's leaving the team and going back home to Oregon. Jimmy tells her he doesn't understand how she can do tha she loves the game and that it is what makes her happy. She tries to deny it and finally, when Jimmy pushes just a bit more she looks at him and says "It just got too hard."

Jimmy (with a powerful Tom Hanks glare) retorts. "If it wasn't hard, everybody would be doing it."

Just like fair baking.

Just like writing.

How many times have you listened to the frustration, the despair the "why am I doing this" on writer's loops? How many times have you had to give pep talks to aspiring authors to "hang in there". You're almost there...you're on the edge (hopefully on the edge of publication and not LITERALLY on the edge :-).

And how many times have you had someone say "Wow! You wrote a book! I couldn't do that."

A lot I imagine. We aspiring writers are in a league of our own. Some of us are lucky to have good team members to play the game with; local chapters, critique partners and for me...the Banditas. Each member brings to the game a different perspective, a different outlook, different experiences and different levels of success.

I really came to recognize what a unique and wonderful experience it is to be with others who have attained something as great as a GH final. There's just a different vibe, an unspoken recognition of shared experiences. What a wonderful thing.

Now, what position would you play in the game lineup? Pitcher? Short stop (short crop)?

Hot dogs! Cracker Jacks!