the barn in fall

the barn in fall

Monday, May 23, 2011

Writing by Bribery

Writing can be fun.  It's also work, and sometimes I'd rather call in sick.  So I bribe myself with a little reward.  If I get X-number of pages done, I can watch the Tigers baseball game.  You'll just have to trust me that this is far better motivation than an ice cream sundae.

Saturday, for some reason that I'm sure is inadequate and completely unacceptable, the Tigers game was not televised.  I was forced to follow the action with's written play-by-play.  On top of that, my family decided that no baseball game meant we should watch a movie.  So I was reduced to sporadic peeks at the laptop to see how the game was going. 

If you're not a fan, baseball can seem like a slow game.  But trust me, things can fall apart fast.  That's why, after not checking for a couple innings, I looked at the game in horror.  And Penny had to check it out for herself, yelling, "They gave up HOW MANY runs?  Let me see those pitching stats!"

Saturday, May 14, 2011


That's for Biography, not Biology.  If you thought of the latter, congratulations on being an academic type, versed in both micro and macro.  If you thought the former, you might be a writer, because that's what they make us put at the back of our books.  (Or else you are job hunting and have been putting down way too much personal info on those resumes.  They really don't care if you love water skiing.)

One part of the bio bugs me in particular - the part where you list your expert experience.  Why?  Because it can sell your book on the spot.  If you pick up a book about mushroom hunting, you want to flip to the back and read that the author has stalked wild mushrooms from swamp to mountain top, eaten them, and never once had his stomach pumped.  A book on flying?  The author damn well better be a pilot.  It matters. 

But for romance novels?    Hmm, well, let's just say that experience aside, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.  Fellow romance author Roxanne St. Claire said she was tempted to fill out a questionaire asking for her job description with, "I make shit up."  Really, that's all you need - an imagination.  But I've met authors who started out as lawyers and medical doctors, and you'd better believe that goes in their bio, whether it matters to the story or not.  I assume the prospective reader is impressed that her Regency-era romance was written by someone who knows a tort from a tart.  (Ha!  That line made this whole post worth it.)

As you've no doubt figured out, I did not abandon an impressive profession to write romance novels.  Not unless you are an obsessive shopaholic, in which case you can drool over my past work in the misses department at Kohl's, complete with employee discounts.  Oh, yeah, I used 'em, too!  I've also been a medical secretary and partner in a cleaning business.  Unfortunately, no one is going to overheat at reading that.  Even my english degree sounds like a dry afterthought. 

So what to put down for my bio?  Eh, I gave them the dry, boring stuff.  But if I was honest, I'd say the best qualification for making shit up is having the time to do it.  Time when the author's head is not cluttered with the concerns of patients or clients or those edgy bargain shoppers.  If I'm honest, this is my best bio:

Monday, May 9, 2011

Up Close with Remi

Most horses find people in their pasture interesting.  They want to smell whtever is in your hand because it could be a carrot that happens to look like a camera.  If you're in a truck, they have to sniff the truck bed and press their noses against the glass.  Of our three horses, Remi is the most curious.  I was in the pasture taking pictures and he followed me like a dog.  When I stopped to shoot a picture, his nose tickled the back of my neck and sniffed my hair.  I turned around and backed up to take this picture.  He looked away, like, "What?  That wasn't me sniffing your neck."

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Spring Peepers

If you're a frog, this is prime real estate, baby.  Stagnant water, rotting vegetation - the perfect place to dine on bugs, romance a few hundred of your fellow frogs, and raise your tadpoles.
Flooded lowlands are common around here; this one is just down the road, a couple of acres of marshy wetland.  Home sweet home for spring peepers.  Forget daffodils and crocuses.  This nighttime chorus is the true sign that spring is here. 

Blogger makes it difficult to embed an audio file, so just play the video and turn on your speakers.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Triple Decker Cats

Warm, sunny days at the cat tree by the front window.  Good view of birds and bunnies right from your bed.  Life is good.  If I get reincarnated, I want to be one of my cats.