Wear Yourself Out and Rest in Peace Without Regrets » Petit Fours
“But, someone, please give me—who is born again but still so much in need of being born anew—give me the details of how to live in the waiting cocoon before the forever begins?”― Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
It’s that phrase – “the waiting cocoon before the forever begins” – that reverberates for me, maybe too much right now. It couldn’t be more prominent than if I had it written in neon script and mounted above the fireplace in all its pink flashy glory.
Don’t worry. This isn’t a post on new decorating trends. …
Please join me on Petit Fours and Hot Tamales’ blog today and leave me your comments. This one’s personal….
Romance at Random’s Diamond Jubilee Celebration Hop! 26 Winners!
Romance at Random’s Diamond Jubilee Celebration Giveaway Hop!
Why a Diamond Jubilee Hop? For our hero Nev, in ABOUT LAST NIGHT, by Ruthie Knox
First, a bit of trivia:
The Diamond Jubilee takes place in 2012, marking 60 years of The Queen’s reign. The Queen came to the throne on 6th February 1952 (her Coronation took place on 2nd June 1953).
Buckingham Palace is responsible for coordinating the events of the Diamond Jubilee central weekend (2nd–5th June 2012), as well as for organizing The Queen’s program in her Diamond Jubilee year.
Now, more about Nev, he feels trapped and miserable in his family’s banking empire located in downtown London, England. But beneath his pinstripes is an artist struggling to break free. Albeit, his bohemian-self is trying to emerge, Nev is respectful of his roots and tradition & we want to help him celebrate his queen.
Enter below to win beginning 5/21 thru 5/31 – Romance at Randomwill be randomly giving away some of our jewels of romance, to celebrate the UK’s Diamond Jubilee including:
- 1 winner, 1 copy – Born To Darkness by Suzanne Brockmann
- 1 winner, 1 copy – The Proposal by Mary Balogh
- 1 winner, 1 copy – Darker After Midnight by Lara Adrian
- 3 winners, 1 copy of WITCHFUL THINKING by HP Mallory
- 10 winners, 1 copy of a PREVIEW from Net Galley of ABOUT LAST NIGHT by Ruthie Knox
- 10 winners, 1 copy of PREVIEW from Net Galley of DEEP AUTUMN HEAT by Elisabeth Barrett
That’s right, 26 winners in all! Read more
Does Your Hero’s Name Pass the Harry Test?
I talk to myself and write it all down and hope it entertains and enlightens. So, in the spirit of Writer Enlightenment, here is my latest conversation with Myself. Please, feel free to join us in the comments below:
“Cotton? Your hero’s name is Cotton? What the he–,”
“Hey watch it! Family blog.”
*Rolls eyes* (yes, my subconscious has eyes to roll.) “No it’s not – it’s a womens’ blog. Everybody here is a woman who eats drinks sleeps breathes reads and writes romance novels. And you’re trying to pass off Cotton as the name of your hero …?”
“So what? What’s wrong with Cotton for a name?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. I don’t think it’s any worse than something like Jamie or Wade … or Christian or Vishous. Those are out of the ordinary names…. What’s wrong with Cotton?”
“Are you kidding…? Okay, for starters, it’s a fiber.”
“Exactly! A pure fiber, with its own theme song: The Touch. The Feel… of Cot tonnn…”
Groan. “Ew. Oscar Mayer’s got jingles too – how about calling him Bacon?”
“Nah. Nitrates. Not organic, not pc, not to mention it makes me think of banjoes and Deliverance. Big Ew. Cotton is clean. It’s fresh. It’s southern.” *shrugs* “…Anyway, it’s just a nickname.”
“Oh, really? Nickname for…?”
“If I tell you you have to promise to be nice.”
“I’m your subconscious. It’s my job to be not nice. I’m here to help you grow that thick skin, so when you submit or query and the editor says ‘Change Cotton to something less along the lines of womens’ sanitary products and to something more masculine,’ or you self publish and reviewers all say ‘great hero, weird name,’ you won’t shrivel up and die from rejection.”
“Sigh. Okay. Cotton is the nickname for … Cornelius.”
“Gah! Cornelius? Bwahahahahaha!”
“Okay, not funny…,”
“Oooo… give it to me…Cornelius. Do it to me…Cornelius….”
“What’s all that about?”
“It’s the test.”
“What test?”
“The ‘When Harry Met Sally’ test. When Harry asked her where was her old boyfriend Sheldon? And he told her it was a terrible name, as in ‘…give it to me, S h e l d o n.’ Do it to me…Cornelius.”
“Cotton! It’ll be ‘Give it to me …Cotton!”
“Cotton… Cornelius…. Meh. No difference. Get a better name.”
“I like it. It’s different. Who’d ever named a hero something like Vishous before JRWard anyway?”
“She’s the Wharden; she can do whatever the hell she wants.”
“So okay – let’s put it to the test. Ooo…Vishous. Give it to me Vishous.… I hate it when you’re right – the Harry test works. I’m so down with Vishous for a hero name.”
“I’m down with Viscous period.”
*Snort!* Me too!
Your turn! For research purposes of course. Let’s give your hero’s name the Harry test… or if you have any other ideas that are Family Rating, feel free.
yikici | Savvy Sunday Salutations’ to Pamela V. Mason
yikici | Savvy Sunday Salutations’ to Pamela V. Mason.
Jackpot! by Pamela V. Mason
blogblogblogblog…BLOG!
Me and I had a talk with Myself recently.
Well, okay… so I talk to myself all the time. And since this blog has moved and I’m in the process of building up posts and writing for publication and working on my craft and supporting fellow writers and pulling my imagination to heel and structure all of it into a readable story…
… it seems much of the only talking – that is, coherent talking that’s not why the dirt in my back yard appears to be eroding down into the ravine/ landfill beyond –
– is inside my head.
So, in the interest of open sharing – because sharing IS caring – here’s one of the many authorly lessons I’m trying to incorporate into my life and blog at this time. If you’re a writer, you’ll understand.
If you’re not, well, just pretend to understand in the interest of one small step for mankind towards world harmony.
Fibro Mom on Facebook
<”Ah… I see you’ve plumbed the depths of your imagination. Blogging about blogging. Nice.”
“Hey now – if you’re not happy with it, why don’t you get a life? So’s you have something TO blog about.
Seems to me all you do is sit at the computer and read posts about writing, search engine optimization, >
and why 9month pregnant Jessica Simpson is crazy to wear those platform stilettos .”
<”I have a life. Well, sorta….”
“See?”>
<”No, really. Yesterday I did boot camp after I dropped off Fins, and then I had a freak out moment –
“Moment? Hello? Miss Denial? “>
<”Okay, so it was more like a whole day. A freak out Day – happy now? But I did a lot of thinking and planning, and today I did something productive.”
“Oh yeah? Something productive out of yesterday’s Big Think?”
“Well, no, nothing out of yesterday’s Big Think – yet. But I did go buy some deodorant that smells pretty — blueberry and acai. What the hell’s an acai anyway? You ever see an acai in the produce section?”
“Hello! Shiny Chicken — Let’s get back on track.Big Think. Productive – remember?” >
<”Oh. Right. Well, I did do some thinking about goals and stuff. About how I need to write more freely. Be audacious. Open up and share more with the Universe… You know, build my Brand.”
“Your Brand? What exactly is this ‘Brand’? “>
<”You know – what readers expect to see. Just like yesterday… okay, so I was sitting on Facebook a good part of the day – when I wasn’t freaking out. But this ad kept following me from page to page – Walmart.”
“Ha! As in … People of –? You about to appear in an upcoming episode of People of Walmart?!”>
<”Now who’s holding the Shiny Chicken?”
“Sorry. Go on.”>
<A Brand is what people expect to read or see when they tune in to your blog, or your page, or your site, you know? Like … Wait… were you playing Words With Friends just now?”
“Yup.”>
<”While I’m trying to expound on something seriously related to my author career here?”
” Hurry up and get to the point. All you’re doing now is procrastinating with your particular brand of crazy.”>
<”Golly! I hate when you do that! Just because I’m writing down the voices inside my head doesn’t mean I have a particular brand of … DAYUM! I have a Brand!”
“Boom! And that’s the sound of Knowledge being dropped before your very eyes.” >
<”Shut up and get back to work.”
“You’re welcome.”>
And just so your time here wasn’t a complete and total loss, I offer:
http://writetodone.com/ In which Jim Kukral tells indies how to market the heck out of their book.
https://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/ In which Kristen Lamb expounds on Voice, the Key to Literary Magic.
http://petitfoursandhottamales.com/ The Auction by Darcy Crowder – are your dreams still in sight?
Thank you for reading and following!
A bientot!
A Valentine to My Hero
johnwgolden on etsy
The day I said to you, “I’m gonna write a romance novel!” you nodded your head emphatically and said “OKAY!” Maybe it was the research prospects, maybe it was the idea of me finally producing something you know I’m always thinking about… whichever it was or is, you believed in me. Still do.
It’s been (gulp) five years now… and I’ve filled notebooks and flash drives with stories and scenes and ideas and characters, but still no book.
Have the images of that little house on the beach fizzled out by now? Its down payment was spent on Wings’ multiple college admissions, tests, that jalopy of a car… that now sits patiently in the driveway, waiting for another repair. Is it further down the retirement road after Fins’ high school career: marching band dues, trips, track team fees, physical therapy, doctors’ bills and braces and x-rays…?
Yet you get up every morning at 5:30 a.m., in the dark, in the cold…. You never fail to kiss me awake.
You fix your own breakfast and come back to me. You kiss me good-bye to wake me up, you tell me you love me.
And every day I write and struggle with imaginary settings and point of view, with improbable heroes, whose muscles never soften, whose hairlines never recede, and who are always turned on by their non-domesticated, kick-ass, sexpot heroines who are so unlike myself.
The fantasy doesn’t come close to the reality.
Her hero doesn’t warm up her side of the bed when the temperature dips below 74*, and he doesn’t let her fall asleep on his chest to the weatherman’s report. Her hero doesn’t make her breakfast every Sunday morning precisely the way she likes it nor does he bring her coffee in bed so she can check her email on her smartphone. Her hero doesn’t laugh at her silly puns or groan at her jokes, nor does he watch Sam Elliott movies over and over and over again, simply because she wants to. Her hero doesn’t patiently teach his sons the life lessons he had to learn the hard way, knowing it’s a blessing to have lived long enough to do so, hoping to live longer to stand at their weddings, hold his grandbabies, and teach them how to stake a tent or buy a car.
Nope.
That’s my Hero, the man I kiss every morning, and again every night. If only there were more hours in the day between, I’d kiss you even more.
I love you myHero. And kisses are about all I have to offer you.
That, and a Hershey bar.
After 30 years, it’s all we need.
