October 31, 2006
I dread movie trailers this time of year. It seems every October there is some new gorey horror flick out in movie theaters. I can’t stand them. Won’t watch them. Can’t think of anything worse. Give me suspense. Give me a thriller. Give me something that scares me. Just don’t give me blood, guts and gore just for the sake of shock value.
I’m no wuss when it comes to blood or mayhem, but movies where deranged psychopaths hack other humans to death or sharpen their chainsaw skills on them have no appeal whatsoever. Movie "classics" like the Freddy movies, the Halloween movies, the Friday the 13th movies? Never watched em. Wouldn’t if you paid me.
On Halloween, I’m quite content with cutesy ghosties and goblins, fairy princesses, little elves and fake draculas. What do you like about Halloween? Do you like gorey movies? Will you sit through a blood bath?
October 30, 2006
After I post this today, I’m heading to the airport to pick up my critique partner, Linda Castillo. She lives in Amarillo and is flying in for a day just for a “sisterhood fix”. We’ll be joining with another critique partner, Jenna Mills, and doing our traditional dinner at Olive Garden (soup, salad, breadsticks—always!), perhaps with a glass of wine. We’re also going to drink some champagne from the infamous plastic cowboy boot mugs, to celebrate some very big deals which are working for Linda, and just being together. The champagne in the cowboy boots is another tradition, started with the first book sale in our then-all-unpublished critique group. The sale was mine, and the year was 1998. When my CPs looked for plastic champagne glasses to go with the bubbly they’d purchased, all they could find were the boots. Now, however, we wouldn’t dream of celebrating without those silly boot mugs.
But more importantly, we wouldn’t dream of missing the “Great Sisterhood rituals”, ones I believe all women perform with other women, across the world, and—who knows?—perhaps across the universe. There’s just something in our makeup that leads us to create bonds with other women. Perhaps it’s our intuitive or nurturing tendencies, or maybe our openness to our feelings, but we women innately reach out to one another, especially in times of great emotions, be they joy or sadness.
I grew up with two brothers, so I never had the experience of a biological sister, or the quibbling and the love-hate relationship sisters seem to share. But I had three best friends, and we were inseparable through the school years. One of those, Beth, has reconnected with me, and we still correspond. I added another friend in the sixth grade, Janet, who became my closest friend, and still is, after forty plus years and with many miles between us. She and I are so in sync that when we see each other, even after months apart, it’s like we were never separated. When we get together, it’s sixth grade again (telling dirty jokes and laughing uproariously), or our first crushes on guys, our first kisses, our marriages (we were maid of honor and matron of honor for each other), the birth of our children—and the death of our mothers. Two other friends from high school and early adulthood—Debbie and Jennifer—have also remained very close despite both of them living across the country (and in other countries). These lifelong friends and I walk this Earth in total kinship and understanding.
It’s the same with my critique partners. We might go weeks or months without actually seeing each other, but that bond never wavers. If one of us hurts or is troubled, the others send support and encouragement and love. It is that same basic message of empowering love that fuels the romances we write and read. It’s just there, flowing out of us as naturally as a spring flows from the ground.
Some guys have bonding experiences with other guys, but it’s not the same. Because no matter how sensitive, aware, or self-actualized guys become, they’re just not tapped into that mystical goddess energy that connects women the world over. It’s innate within us, and it gives us a sense of oneness with other women that is superseded only by our bonds with our children. I’m not convinced even husbands can compete with this oneness, although they might come close.
We women are born into this Great Sisterhood—no initiation or secret handshake necessary. How wonderful, how glorious, how female!
Today I’ll drink champagne from a scratched plastic cowboy boot mug. And not only will I toast my critique partners’ amazing successes, I will also celebrate being a woman.
How many of you have special friendships that have endured time and distance? Here’s to those friendships, and to all of you, members of the Great Sisterhood.
~ Catherine
October 29, 2006
Well … not to be mean or anything … but just to be honest: As we speak, my bags are packed full of bathing suits, shorts, t-shirts and sunscreen. The husband and I are off today for a seven day cruise to Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Cozumel. Wahooo!
All readers take a “reading bag” on any trip, right? What’s in mine?
For starters, I’ve got Julia Templeton’s (hot!) November release, THE BARGAIN. I’ve got a book my brother sent to me for my birthday, GUESTS OF THE AYATOLLAH, written and autographed by BLACKHAWK DOWN author, Mark Bowden. I’ve also got Deb Dixon’s GOAL, MOTIVATION AND CONFLICT, which I’ve read a couple of times, with a notebook for scribbling on my current project. I decided to leave Thomas Harding’s TESS OF THE D’URBERVILLES because I’m trying to be realistic, and this bag (also full of Big Sexy Hair products – Hey, I’m from Texas remember) is getting to be a bit heavy …
But looking at my selections got me to thinking. I like all sorts of books. Non-fiction. Fiction. Popular fiction. I’m not really into self-help or how-to books, although I do have 2 or 3 writing books that I read and re-read because they tend to “trigger” revelations during the writing process.
Some of the best books I’ve read, have been recommendations from friends. So tell me, what are the three (or four or five) books that have a forever-place on your keeper shelf, and why?
Here’s a few of my all-time fiction favorites:
BELOVED, by Toni Morrison – a beautiful, heart-breaking and life-changing book. This book won a Pulitzer Prize.
THE SHADOW AND THE STAR, by Laura Kinsale. Only two romance books have ever brought me to tears, and this was one of them.
KILLING ME SOFTLY by Nicci French. Because it dragged me, kicking and screaming, toward a “THE END” I did not want to see, and for that, I loved it.
OUTLANDER by Diana Gabaldon. The second “romance” book that brought me to tears. Honestly, I haven’t been able to bring myself to read the following books in the series because I was so emotionally traumatized by this one. And yes, because of that it’s a favorite.
October 28, 2006
I’ve been writing for a long time. So almost every weird thing that could happen has happened to me. Here are some stories.
Long ago, when I was really wet behind the ears, I attended one of my first RWA conferences. Harlequin was having a big session to tell us about a new line, but they didn’t want to give too much away. I thought the presentation was really useless, so when the session was over, I got up and hurried to the exit–where I saw my agent talking to another woman. I rushed up to the agent and said, "They didn’t say anything!" She smiled and nodded and told me we could discuss it later. Later she told me she had been talking to the Harlequin publicist when I complained about their presentation.
I should have learned my lesson about conferences then. But I was still too stupid to catch on. My next blunder was in the bathroom. I went into a toilet stall. My friend went into another, and we kept talking about a publisher’s presentation while we peed. When we came out, the editor we’d been talking about was washing her hands at the sink. Sigh.
It took two reinforcements to teach me to be careful what I say and where at conferences. Although, if you know me, you know I can be a loudmouth. So I sometimes still forget to be cautious.
Those are two of my choice conference experiences. I’ve had other screwups along the way. The most recent was when Berkley sent me galley pages. At the time, I was having some home construction, and the front door looked like it was blocked. So the Fed Ex man left the package at the sunroom door on the side of the house–and didn’t tell me it was there. Six weeks later I found the galleys for a reprint of a novella. Thank the Lord it was a reprint–and there was nothing I wanted to change, since it was already in production. But after that, I asked my editor’s assistant to e-mail me when she was sending galleys–so I’d know to look for them.
Then there was the time I spent a week responding to a revision letter–and sent off the revised manuscript. The editor called me the next week to say that she’d been trying to figure out what I’d changed but couldn’t find anything different. I went scrambling back through my computer files and found that I’d sent the WRONG FILES. She had the old version. Sigh. At least I haven’t made THAT mistake again.
So what’s happened to you? Any bad experiences you’re not embarrassed to share with us?
Rebecca
October 27, 2006
Hi everyone! Wow—life has gotten really crazy lately. Between selling my house and potty training my daughter and some health issues and trying to normalize my sleeping schedule (that’s right…no more staying up until two to write for me…getting up at six isn’t going well thus far. Not enough coffee in the world)…and writing and the release of my Kensington Aphrodisia release, The Cop, I’ve been pulling out my hair just trying to stay on top of things. To make matters worse, I haven’t had the best of luck lately… though I’ve never been one who puts much stock in luck and the such. I’ve always believed we create our own good fortune. But this week, for some reason, my horoscope on MSN caught my attention and I read it. Oddly, it was right on. So I’ve read it every day this week and each day, it was right on! It predicted my sale of a novella to EC (yea!), an almost-contract on my house and that it would fall though, and oddly, even my feelings throughout the week. It kinda has me thinking that my luck is changing now…and maybe horoscopes are for real:) So what do you think? Are horoscopes for real? Check out yours for today and tell me how accurate or inaccurate it is!
http://astrocenter.astrology.msn.com/msn/EditLevel1.aspx?Af=-1000
Well, mine predicted I should clean my house, bc I’d have unexpected visitors today! Better go do it! Hugs, Alyssa
October 26, 2006
We recently had a bit of an experiment on the home front, so I thought I’d share it with you, for fun.  My real-life hero, Mark, got us a starter kit for the automated home. He’s always trying to find new ways to make life easier for me, (no really,) and this was the latest. He pointed out how great it would be to have the ability to phone home after being away, and turn the heating or the oven on remotely. Me? Well I had visions of the place being on fire by the time we got back, or the house (and us) being taken over by "the system," (too many sci-fi movies,) but I kept my thoughts to myself. I’m always game for a bit of fun, so I went along with it.
When the package arrived he was like a little kid, running around doing god knows what with bits and bobs. After a while he came downstairs with a remote control in his hand and asked me to observe. After pressing a button on the remote, what sounded like the CD player in my office, (upstairs,) came on, and I could hear loud rock music blasting out for the cat’s benefit. I was impressed! This was great fun. I couldn’t imagine why I would want to put my CD player on in my office from downstairs, but Mark had said this was just a demo. Next up, the real thing. The remote control came into play with our bedroom light. Instead of having to stumble in the dark, Mark said, I could now switch lights on from bed. I smiled encouragingly. I didn’t tell him that the first thing that comes to mind when I look at a remote control is the hours of my life I spend looking for them down the back of sofas, etc etc. Let’s face it, they are never where they are supposed to be, are they? To cut a long story short, the result of that part of the experiment is that we are back to using the light switch, which never moves, hides or gets lost.
The most exciting part of the starter pack was a movement sensor that would automatically switch the light on when you come into a room. Mark suggested we put this on the upstairs landing, so that we wouldn’t have to fumble for light switches on visiting the bathroom in the night. It would automatically illuminate the landing, making our journey across it so much easier. Now, there wasn’t a remote control involved in this particular part of the procedure, and I could see the little red light flashing on the sensor that he fitted to the banisters. I couldn’t immediately find any flaws in this plan, and although I usually don’t bother with lights at all if I get up, I was quite hopeful that this part might actually be useful to us.
That night I half woke and moved in the bed, at which point Mark said, “don’t forget that the light will come on automatically.” I was merely rolling over in my sleep at the time, and nearly leapt out of my skin. He claimed he was trying to stop me being startled… by the light…
What the heck, I was awake… I might as well go to the bathroom. So up I got and trundled off on my usual eyes-shut-route across the bedroom and out onto landing. Past the red flashing light I went, (I peeked,) and into the bathroom. I was just about to shout out, “it didn’t work,” when the light came on. Hurrah! He shoots, he scores!
Did my business in the bathroom, came back out onto the brightly lit landing, got three steps across it and the light went out, dropping me into darkness after I’d just got accustomed to the light. How odd, thought I. Not only that, but I’d made it back into bed when the damned thing came back on again, having sensed me on my way back. Programmed by a joker? Maybe.
Mark said he’d look at it the next day. He did. After several experiments (hours) moving the sensor, walking about on the landing and so on, he told me that for optimum effectivity I needed to get out of bed slower, and do my business quicker. My response? Yes, you’ve guessed it: “who is being automated here, the home, or me?”
It’s a good job he’s such a gorgeous, adorable and sexy man who I love to bits,  and that I have such a good sense of humour, isn’t it? No doubt a stack of money to spend on a proper system would mean that these little hiccups wouldn’t happen. Or would they..? (cue twilight zone theme music… )
October 25, 2006
Until this past April, I was a full time Development Director traveling the country raising funds from prep school grads. I dined in Hollywood, Washington DC, any number of amazing places, with some well-known people. But all I wanted was to be a full time writer.
Now I’m living the dream. No more writing instead of sleeping nights. Now I can do both.
Picture it: I sit here in my glamorous romance-writing garb: long black tee-shirt nightgown, comfy bathrobe, and orange knee socks with witch feet—an ensemble known as my Anti-Bob device . . . a term coined by you-know-who.
My small office is walled with research books, and stacks of witchy research books surround me, along with my breakfast dishes . . . and . . . yeah, a couple of dishes from my 2 a.m. snack. See, I went to bed at 4 a.m. With SEX AND THE PSYCHIC WITCH due in New York on December 1st, and THE SCOT, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE due in stores on December 5th, I’ve been putting in 12 to 16 hours a day juggling promo for THE SCOT and making my deadline for SEX. And that may be the sexiest thing about this job.
Yet I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I sleep when I need to, and create stories whenever I want, for as long as my muse lasts—I think his name is Sebastian. No stopping to go to school, or knowing that my next good surge of creativity will have to wait five more days until the following weekend. Life is good.
I’m living the writing dream, and loving it. Don’t worry. I get dressed sometimes—to hubby’s delight. Usually for writers conferences and talks. To meet you, my readers, a treat I totally enjoy. I spend time with family and friends when I want, unless I’m on a double deadline, like now.
What is your dream, and how are you working to make it happen? I sure hope you get to live it some time soon.
From the lady in her witch socks, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
www.annetteblair.com 
October 24, 2006
 A year and a half ago, my family and I moved from a small, cramped house that we’d called home for 7 years. Small. Did I mention small? It sat on 2 acres of land which really did make up for the tiny quarters. There are 4 of us in our home, and that’s if you don’t include our fur-babies - 1 80 lb golden retriever and an 8 lb pomeranian who ran away just before our move. There were 2 bedrooms. 2 bathrooms. The kitchen was so tiny, two people could not be in there at once. The house was old and falling apart, and for about 5 of those 7 years, I couldn’t wait to get out. I wanted a home with a fireplace, with enough rooms that my children didn’t have to sleep together, and maybe (God willing) where I could have my own space. I got all that and more when we moved back in June 2005.
We’re only 2 minutes from our other house. I have my own office lined wall to wall with books. A huge garden tub in our private bathroom. A large screened in patio. A fireplace. 2 separate rooms for my kids. A great school within walking distance that they attend. A real garage door and a nice walkway from driveway to front door. My kitchen is big enough to hold my hold family PLUS guests. I love it here. I wouldn’t go back to the other house for anything.
But there’s one thing I desperately miss in that old house– My reading nook. Reading nook is perhaps the wrong name for it, because I did EVERYTHING there, but since it was the only spot in the house I could comfortably read, we’ll stick with that term. I’m one of those people who never really sat and read a page here or there. When it’s time to read, I bunk down with that book and it becomes another appendage to my body. I may not have alot of time to read, but that book will follow me everywhere until I’ve finished it. It rides along in my purse, sits on my nightstand, on the kitchen counter. Where ever I happen to be. Because here at this newer house, I read where ever I can, where ever I happen to be at that moment. But at that smaller, more confined home, I had a corner of the living room that was stocked with a table and a big, oversized Italian leather chair that was alllllll mine. It had just the perfect reading light, was near enough to my family that I didn’t feel like I was neglecting them, and still, there was something about that corner that let me tune out their voices, the TV, the dishwasher…and just read. I read Harry Potter there — the first 5 books. I read my first Sherrilyn Kenyon book there and became an avid fan. I read and reread Julie Garwood a million times in that chair. In that corner of my home.
I love my new home, but I’ve yet to find that sacred place here. Perhaps it’s because my Italian chair is gone. But I think it’s more due to the fact that I’ve only been here a little over a year, and the old home was a real home to me then, surrounded my memories of having my son and daughter grow up right before my eyes. I’ve tried every room of this house : the office, the patio, the couch in front of the fire place. I still sit down to read, but that ability to block out the rest of the world and get lost in a good story hasn’t found me here yet.
Do you have a sacred place? A favorite chair or room that is yours and yours alone? Any tips on creating a new one for me???
October 22, 2006
"Animals may aid us in our everyday lives, in our dreams and meditations. Since they were created before humans, they are close to the Source and can act as allies, guides, and familiars in our search for wholeness."
-Anonymous Native American Woman
Animal lovers know…pets can be the warmest of companions, a source of  comfort, amusement, and (yes) wisdom. A beautiful feline is like a work of art, a cat with big personality is an endless source of comedy. Watching a mother and her kittens can melt your heart. Whether great or small, animals truly are God’s creatures. It’s not hard to guess why writes have a special affinity for cats. Zenlike they sit, under my desk, on the back of my chair, on my lap, providing good, quiet company during long hours of solitary writing. It’s no wonder the Coyle household has been befriending and sheltering homeless New York cats for over five years now. The latest additions are in this photo, part of a litter from a feral mother (who we named Caltiki).
In the picture are her babies: the longhaired female kitten on the right is Bo-Bo. The little gray male kitten in the middle is Rebel. But we need help naming the little feline on the left! Do you have any possible names? Or tell me about your favorite pet and/or pet memory. Maybe I’ll borrow the pet name for this little one!
Wishing you all java joy, 
Cleo Coyle
P.S. Ending with great good news on my latest release MURDER MOST FROTHY (Coffeehouse Mystery #4), which made the Entertainment Weekly paperback bestseller list, published in their popular Fall TV Preview issue (September eighth). A friend just told me about this because I missed it. Just barely made the list, but what a smokin’ boost!
October 20, 2006
So I attended the writers’ retreat at Silver Falls, Oregon, and yes, it’s a totally beautiful spot–tall trees, woodland green and lush, and the falls themselves spectacular. They drop into a deep open bowl in the earth cut into layers of rock formed from cooled lava that covered Oregon long long ago… The writers were talented and congenial, and weather even cooperated, no rain until the last day, when I discovered I had forgotten to pack an umbrella–I always pack an umbrella, but not this time, of all times. As one of the presenters I received a goodie bag with small treats, including pamphlets on bears and cougars and what to do if you encountered one of the beasties while hiking, and a jingle bell to wear on your athletic shoe to let the animals know you are coming (so they can better plan their attack?) and for some unknown reason a chart of good and bad insects which I put beneath a layer of paper and tried not to look at… I am–I’m sorry to report–the most inside person you will likely ever encounter, and anything with more legs than my cat belongs, to my mind, out THERE while I stay in HERE, and never the twain shall, I hope, meet. I enjoyed talking to the writers over the weekend, my workshop went well, and I did not encounter any wild animals, except that on the way out of the state park, we saw a bobcat–I think–one of the other speakers thought it was a young cougar, but I voted for bobcat as the shape was wrong for cougar, I thought, and it had tufted ears….and I was quite happy to see it from the relative safety of the inside of a car. And so ended my commune with nature, and I headed back to the city! Nicole Byrd
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