Improvise

When I can’t write, I’m not a happy person. I get really grouchy and blame anyone in listening distance. Usually, it’s my husband, critique partners, plotting gals and accountability group. I know they want me to shut up, but so far, they haven’t said that. But I know its coming.

This last weekend was a perfect example of how hectic life can get. I worked twenty four hours of overtime. All on the weekend, and it was Mother’s Day. My work ended about 12:30 on Sunday.

I went home and watched the final chapter of Fringe. Can Peter really never have existed? If so, how did he get the bad Olivia pregnant? Now did the good Olivia fall in love with him? I can’t wait until next season. That’s my favorite show.

Afterwards my son and daughter came over and we had a light lunch, which I fixed. They no sooner left then my two step sons came in to wish me Happy Mother’s Day. Everyone was gone at 5:30 but I still had to go grocery shopping, do five loads of laundry and get ready for work.

I didn’t type a single word.

But I did work on my book. I found a little app on my iphone called Voice Memo. I talked into that phone so long I think people thought I was nuts, but I got a lot of information down I needed for my story. Today I played it back and ended up with five pages of notes. Some I need now, some for my synopsis and some for other scenes in the book.

The important thing is I keep my story in the front of my brain and that’s what important. It helped me figure out a few plot problems and I played ‘what if’ a lot. It as fun, easy and I’m glad I did it.

I now have a new tool to put in my writing toolbox.

Write On!

Geri Foster

Finding Characters

Happy Belated Mother’s Day to everyone! Yes, even you guys-cause you know!
I slept in. It was totally awesome. Then there was the familiar beep of an incoming text. My son wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day and wondering what plans I had, having none he invited me to spend the day with him! He needed to study, and I needed to write so we headed to Starbucks. Yes, every mother needs a Carmel Macchiato on Mother’s Day and none of the low or nonfat stuff today, please. I think it was the best I’ve ever drank! Certainly it was the best I’ve had this year. The cup came with a personalize Mother’s Day message, how special is that?
But, here’s the best part. I’ve been having trouble with a character; female, blonde, late twenties, sophisticated yet vulnerable-and there she sat at the very first table with her mother and grandmother! I had to stop myself from asking if I could interview her, and I had to be very careful how I obtained information. I needed to stare covertly. It’s an art.
I had Gracie (my sweet little notebook) out and was typing as fast as my fat little fingers would go. I typed nonstop for ten minutes, details and impressions. It was fabulous. I even got some of the interaction between the women; subtle body shifts, amused quirks of an eyebrow, the sudden flash of independence or disapproval. The thing I can’t describe yet is how this young woman managed to cross her legs while sitting down and do it gracefully. It was one fluid motion of easy, graceful movement and I’m not sure how it happened. Too bad I couldn’t ask her to do it again! ;-)
After they left, I was on a mission, how many other characters could I find, describe for current works or future unplanned projects. There was the mom in Panda Express with five small children, yes five under the age of ten, and she was grace under pressure as she wished me Happy Mother’s Day in the most beautiful, serene voice.
The afternoon was reserved for shopping or window gazing and some serious people watching. IKEA, Half-Priced Books, Barnes and Noble, Best Buy and everywhere I went-there they were, characters living life and enjoying time in the company of people they loved.
The man alone on a restaurant patio lazed back with one ankle resting negligently on his knee. Babies in carriers, wide eyed or sleeping; in Stone Briar Mall there was a young couple on a bench, baby draped over dads knees sucking down a bottle of milk while mom relaxed. And in the play area, fathers and grandfathers played with the kids so the ladies could shop in peace.
The weather was stunningly wonderful, enriching this day made for spending time with families into a small slice of heaven right here on earth. And then I found these!Kisses From Heaven.
Life is good! Live with passion!
Ella

The Pleasure of Reading

This year, 4writers has been lucky to have a stellar bunch of authors drop by and share their thoughts with us and we are so happy they came. Each author has offered something different to the readers and I have read all of them and enjoyed all of them.

In fact, the most recent book I read from our guests was Sophie Oak’s Bound. It came out last Friday, I bought it, downloaded it around 10 p.m. and didn’t put it down until the very last sentence. It was that good. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the guilt-free pleasure of being able to stay up all night to read. What a treat! I read just about every chance I get and I’m lucky enough to get sneak peeks at works in progress through my critique partners. I love a traditional print book and I’ve been reading online for years. I downloaded the Kindle and Borders apps on my phone and I’m slowly getting used to those, but I still have some glitches with them.
How I read doesn’t matter, just as long as I do. Reading makes me happy. It takes me to places I have never been to, lets me revisit others, helps me visualize the impossible and improbable as absolutely doable. Reading is one of the things that I seek solace in. Inspiration. Hope. It’s like a movie for your brain, one you hold in your hands and cast yourself.  I don’t know about you, but I do a lot of accents when I read, especially the Scottish books.  Granted, they’re bad, but I still hear them in my head. I sometimes emulate the movement of the characters as I read (uh, I did say sometimes!).

I also find my mood while reading to be affected by what’s going on in the book. Woe betide someone who interrupts me during a moment of reading something intense, whatever that may be. If a murder just happened in the book, check my eyes for rage before asking me to make you a peanut butter sandwich. Often my poor dog bears the brunt of my shivers when I’m reading anything slightly spooky. Anytime I gasp and say “Holy crap!” and bury my head in his fur, he huffs patiently and waits for me to get a mental grip and let up on the undercoat.
I love the way I feel when I read. The satisfied “ah” that comes with an ending so perfect, it brings a smile, a sob or a gasp when you read it.  Speaking of those moments, there has been more than once instance when an author has moved me to write to him or her. The latest was Heather Graham. I read her book the Death Room and I was so floored, so surprised by what happened that I just had to write her. Yeah, it was an equally good squee of fangirl-itude when she replied.
The bottom line is that reading matters. A lot. I hope you all are prolific readers. Who are some of your favorite authors? Favorite genres? What moves you when you read?

Happy reading,
Jennifer August

My First Year with Guest Blogger Sophie Oak

Today at 4writers, we are delighted to have author Sophie Oak visit us. Sophie's newest Siren release Bound is now available.
Sophie, thanks for being with us today! I LOVED Bound. I stayed up all night reading it. Can't wait for the next book in the series!
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Special Guest Star Sophie Oak

My First Year

It’s been almost a year since my first book came out, and I thought it was time to reflect on the things I’ve learned over the course of this year. I walked into the publishing business a bright eyed innocent and one year later, I’m not so sure how much of my innocence is left, but I know I still have a lot to learn. In honor of surviving this first year, I thought I would reflect on its lessons, both in and out of the industry.

• Not everyone will love me. That was a hard one to take. Not everyone will love everything I write, and I can’t let that affect my blood pressure. The connection between a writer and a reader is a little like finding a soul mate. When it works—it’s the best thing in the world. When it doesn’t—well, that’s why I don’t look at Amazon reviews anymore.

• Have a really good answer on hand when your twelve year old takes a gander at your new cover and wants to know a) why everyone is naked and b) why are there five football players and only one girl. All I could come up with was a) it was laundry day and b) they were down a player, and she was the only one around.

• Facebook is my friend. Wow, I can really connect with readers on Facebook. I’ve gotten the whole social networking thing down. I tease on Fridays and announce when my books are available and I connect the whole thing through Twitter and my Amazon and GoodReads pages.

• Facebook is my worst enemy. Wow, I can spend a lot of time on Facebook. And why do people think I run a farm?

• Maybe my backyard pool isn’t the best place to skinny dip. I learned that the hard way, and that’s all I’ll say on that.

• Fear and doubt kill my creativity, yet they stalk me all the times it seems. No matter how well my last book has done, I always think the next one will tank.

• This business is just like any other. The grass is always greener on the other side, until you get there and realize that it has its own version of weeds.

• You take a toddler to the potty, but you can’t make her use it.

• Friends are like gold. I’ve managed to find some spectacular ones in the last year of my life. I’ve found plenty of people ready, willing and able to criticize me, but boy, have I found friends, too. I’ve made friends in the past year that I have no idea how I managed life without. They’re creative and funny and ridiculously loyal. Sharing this journey with friends has made it all the sweeter when it’s good and bearable when it’s bad. Cling to the people who love you. They’ll be around when the accolades are gone. They’ll buy the margaritas when someone thinks you’re the worst writer in the world.

I think what I’ve really learned is to remember why I got into this business in the first place. I love to tell stories. Beyond the money and the fans, (and don’t get me wrong, those are good reasons to be in this business) what I really love is creating worlds in my head. I get to live through my characters. In my forty years on earth, I’ve been a rancher, a woman on the run and the Queen of the Seelie Fae. I’ve run a BDSM club, been a famous artist and got elected to be the sheriff of the strangest town in the world. And I’ve gotten to share those experiences with people. I’ve been able to connect on a level I never would have imagined.

Yes, the business is rough. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. What have I learned this year? I learned that I’m luckiest woman on earth. I can’t wait to see what I learn in year two.

Bound now available!

Sophie Oak writes erotic romance for Siren Publishing.

You can read the first chapters of all her books at www.sophieoak.com

I Am Not My Characters by Guest Blogger Susan Gable

Today at 4writers, we welcome author Susan Gable, whose new book As Good As His Word is now available in bookstores and online at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Thanks for stopping by, Susan!
Susan, I liked Hayden in the previous Hawkins' books but he absolutely stole my heart in this one. Great job!
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Special Guest Star Susan Gable

I Am Not My Characters/My Characters Are Not Me
Maybe my books should come with a disclaimer at the beginning.  Especially this new one.
Disclaimer: The author does not necessarily condone all behavior, comments, or thoughts, taken by the FICTIONAL characters in the story you are about to read. Some of them may be politically incorrect. Some of them may be blatantly dangerous. Some may go against your particular code of conduct/morality/ethics.
 Come to think of it, some of them may go against my code of conduct, too.
But then, I am not my characters. My characters are not me. My stories are not platforms for me to advance my particular viewpoints.
I'm just telling stories about people. Imperfect people. People who think differently than I do. Than you probably do. Because we all have our own viewpoints.
I love telling juicy, meaty, emotionally messy stories. Which means my characters are often hip-deep in something. I like stories that make people think without me beating them over the head, or without telling them WHAT to think.
I've done stories about surrogacy. About organ transplant. My last book featured a savior sibling. (A child conceived to be a cord blood donor for an older sibling who needed new bone marrow.)
This new story (As Good as His Word) features a heroine who is legally still married. It features a cheating husband who's in a permanent vegetative state. It revolves around a family who has lost one of their own and think this heroine kicked that family member when he was down.  There's also a teenager dabbling with pot.
Messy, messy...life. And let's face it, life is messy. But just because I write something, or my characters do/say something, doesn't mean I'm endorsing that behavior or viewpoint.
This blog took on whole new meaning while I was in the midst of writing it. A woman who's been a very successful high school English teacher for over 20 years suddenly found herself being vilified by some parents because she writes erotic romance.  She'd been very careful to keep her private life separate from her teaching life, using a pen name, not spreading around the school what she wrote, etc. One parent fretted on camera to the "news" (and I use that term VERY lightly) that this teacher might now be "looking at" her high-schooler son in a certain "way."
Because, of course, if she writes about sex, then she must only be thinking about sex. Always.  Somehow I think that mother confused the teacher with the camera-hound's own hormonally-overloaded teenage son. (Teenage boys are generally always thinking about sex.)
That teacher is NOT her characters. (Who, I feel I must point out, are all consenting adults.) If she were writing about serial killers, would that mom be worried that the teacher would suddenly go berserk and kill her son?  I doubt it. Does she think J.K Rowlings has a magic wand, or is cooking up spells in her basement? Doubtful. Stephen King has a car that drives by itself and kills people? Or that because of the crazy stuff that comes out of his imagination (and he has the nerve to write down on paper) that he's some sort of menace to society and the people around him? D'uh, of course not.
But because she is writing <GASP> about characters who have sex, and even worse <bigger GASP>, enjoy sex, of course she must be looking at everyone around her with an eye towards having sex with them.
Seriously?? Come on, people. Do we need a remedial class in the differences between fiction and reality?
The good news for that teacher is her books are now selling like crazy. But her life is never going to be the same because someone who wanted to be the morality police and thought they had the right to vilify her for something she did on her own time. For something her FICTIONAL characters did.
Writers are NOT their characters. Sometimes we write stuff to pay the bills. If we're writing gay sex because it's selling, that doesn't mean we're gay. It doesn't mean we're NOT gay, either.  Sometimes people write Inspirational books when they're not big believers, too.
 My point is, you shouldn't know who *I* am or what *I* believe based on my characters.
Because...they're not me.
Have you ever assumed something about a writer based on something they wrote? Do you have to agree with everything the characters do in order to enjoy a book? Or are you just looking for a good story? Entertainment? What do you think about that high school teacher? Is she somehow a menace to her students? Should she be forced out of teaching? Where should the lines be drawn?

Now available!

BIO: Susan Gable's seventh book for Harlequin's Superromance line, As Good as His Word, is available now. (For a limited time only on the shelves! Thank goodness for ebooks and their unlimited shelf-lives.) Swing by her website, www.SusanGable.com to read an excerpt, articles for writers, and all sorts of other stuff. Her book The Family Plan, another of the Hawkins' Family books, was recently named a finalist in the National Readers' Choice Awards.

THANK YOU NAVY SEALS!!!

I want to take a moment to thank the very brave and courageous men who brought down one of the most dangerous men in the world. You guys Rock!!!

I cannot in a single post give our military personnel credit for keeping our country safe. Yes, it’s their job, but they risk their lives to do it. Not many people are willing to do that.

They leave their wives, kids, parents and siblings behind and head off to foreign countries so that we in America never see or feel the terrors of war except on TV. Many give all. I am both grateful and sorry for the parents who sacrifice a child for the sake of freedom. It plays into that saying that freedom isn’t free.

So, that’s why I write about these brave men. They are the characters in my books because I admire and respect everything they do. They are real, live, breathing Heroes. I can’t say that to all of them, but I can put them in the books I write.

That decision was made several years ago for me. I was at the DFW airport waiting for a plane to Seattle. I noticed a man dressed in a military uniform on crutches, his right leg missing. He leaned heavily against the wall, obviously resting before continuing on to his gate. There was another person watching him as I was, and I’m sure, like me, he didn’t know how to help this young, wounded solider.

Out of nowhere an airport shuttle cart come wheeling down the corridor with a young couple in their forties and what appeared to be their teenage daughter. While I simply watched, the medium height, gray haired man acted. He stepped in front of the cart and held out his hand. The cart stopped abruptly. In a very calm voice my fellow passenger asked if the driver might have room for the wounded military man.

The driver didn't have the chance to speak as the guy along for the ride told the man in front to the cart to get the hell out of the way. They were late for their flight.

Medium height, gray haired and handsome snapped straight and told the man to get out of the cart now. The man and his family got out reluctantly, and older man helped the soldier to the cart, and sent them on their way.

The medium height, gray haired, handsome guy went absolutely ballistic on the younger man, his wife and child. He told him that soldier had paid for, and earned the right to be in front of him and everyone in this airport. He embarrassed the man so badly the guy couldn’t even look him in the eye.

Then security showed up and by now the cart was back to pick up the family,the soldier safely at his gate. When security heard what had happened I expected our hero to be tossed out of the airport. Instead the security guy stepped over to the driver and told him to never, ever pass a wounded soldier without offering him a ride.

When medium height, gray haired and handsome came back to the boarding gate, he was greeted by a round of applause and a standing ovation. Everyone within hearing was clapping. When we all boarded the plane, the captain announced he was buying the hero a drink.

His name is Laurence C. Foster, United States Navy. While it’s been a long time since he wore the uniform of a Naval Officer, I’m still proud to be married to that guy who had the courage to stand up and make a difference.

It all ended well, but it taught me a valuable lesson. We can’t all be on the front lines. I’m not equipped to go into combat, and I’d make a piss poor soldier. But I’ll stand up for them until the day I die, because many have died for me.

Thank you United States Military Personnel

 

Remember: "People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."

Write On!

Geri Foster

The Characters We Meet

Even on vacation we writers are gathers of information. My destination was Paducah, Kentucky home of the American Quilters Society Annual Quilt show which draws quilters from around the globe. I’d never been and was excited to attend; to view the quilts lucky enough to be allowed into the juried show. I wanted to see the quilts, talk to their makers-submerse myself into this world of fabric and artistry.
What I came away with was a life lesson; a reminder of how resilient we humans are in difficult situations. Given less than 48 hours notice that the show could not be held in the convention center, organizers hustled to find places where quilts could be hung, vendors housed, classes held. Not a small task and yes there were obvious glitches, but the show went on as planned…well you know.
I started looking beyond the temporary buildings, the make-shift arrangements. What I saw impressed me, not only with the hustle of a show as large as this one, but with the people going about the business of everyday life.
As a first timer I have no basis for comparison with previous shows. My impressions are of people rising above the circumstances, extraordinary circumstances. The people I came in contact with, the Kentuckians who call this area home, it was business as usual. Only in small overheard snippets with co-workers did you catch a glimpse of their lives and worries; the quiet pride of survivors going about daily life.
I started to see characters. There was the five year old brought by her mom, grandmother and great grandmother to select fabric for her first project (pink kittens with lime green bows) imagine the possibilities of that story-quilting passed from one generation to another.
How about the adventures of the women from Holland? Japan? France? How would flying into a flooded area affect their vacation? What where their impressions? How about the men of the quilting world?
Once I got started down that road I saw story ideas everywhere. That is not to say I didn’t fondle the fabric or stand in awe of the quilts, award winning or not, it simply enhanced my experience.
Life is good
Ella