Well, I’m back and let me first thank Sophie Jordan for graciously filling in for me while I was away. She did such a great job, I bet y’all hardly noticed I was gone. It was a lovely trip. We drove from SE Tennessee to upstate New York to the Adirondack Park. The drive was incredible. We pretty much stayed in mountains the entire time. When we hit Pennsylvania (somewhere I’d never been) I noticed a furry brown thing sitting on the side of the road. One, two, three.

So I asked my husband. “Um, babe, I just saw a brown thing. Some sort of creature. Not a squirrel. Not a cat. They sort of look like big rats (not quite as ugly as a neutra though – for those of you who are familiar).”

He chuckles. “Oh, probably groundhogs.”

I nod and begin to remember that the movie Groundhog Day is set in PA. So I watch for them now cause it’s funny that they like to sit and watch the traffic. Unfortunately some of the little fellows weren’t very bright and opted to brave the journey across the interstate. But I did see more live groundhogs than not.

PA was actually a very interesting state to drive through. In addition to the little critters, we saw Amish people. Working in their gardens. Hanging out clothes. Playing volleyball…in a field of corn…wearing their dresses. The Professor actually suspected the ball players were probably Minnonite due to the brightly colored dresses the women wore. But still a kick to see.

Speculator, NY, which is where we stayed, was beautiful too. We were right on Lake Pleasant and aside from it being really high the first few days (due to the floods they had right before we got there) it was perfect. Though it rained a few days while we were there and the wind was chilly on a few others, overall it was nice. Not too hot, not too cold. We even made a campfire one night complete with S’mores.

I loved that I could sit by the lake and do nothing but read. What was I reading, you ask? Oh…are you ready? Because y’all are gonna be so jealous. *she yawns dramatically* Only an advanced reading copy of Jenna Petersen’s From London With Love and y’all are gonna LOVE IT!!! *sigh* So good.

It was a nice break away, but I’m very glad to be home. And were I not getting excited about National in a few weeks, I’d say I wanted to be home the rest of the summer.

Once every three or four years, my fingernails are good. Usually, they get in the way (of everything I do) so I chop them off, then file them down so the edges don’t catch on anything. Well, the nails are really great right now. So I thought … what the heck, I’ll keep them nice for Atlanta. I’ll buy polish and paint them and have great-looking hands when I go to Nationals.

OK, so now every time I look down, I see fingernails. Having color on the ends of my fingers is just so weird for me. They distract me if I happen to look down when I’m typing, and I find I’m typing ‘e’ instead of ‘d,’ and numbers instead of the top row of letters. Must be that these things need a trim.

My other obsession is my new wip. I mentioned that it’s a fantasy-paranormal-historical, and I’m working on the set-up right now. I’ve written historicals with paranormal elements before, but I want the magic in this one to be a bit stronger. So I’m obsessing about the beginning, and how much information to drop. Maybe it would be better to do a gradual introduction to the magical elements … On the other hand, maybe I should immerse the reader right away, and let her in on all the magical aspects of this world I’m creating. Most likely, I’ll write it two ways, and pick the one I think works best.

In the meantime, I think I’ll go do my nails .

Today is my final Jaunty post (Anne will be back next week and I’m sure she’ll never leave her part of the blog in my hands again, heh, heh, heh). I wish I could leave here with some kind of meaningful post that would make people say ‘aha’ or at least ‘hmmm’. But I don’t know if I have anything really earth shattering to share. Try as I might.

All I know is what I am and what works for me. Half the time, I’m not even sure why. But here it is.

I know I’m a writer. I tell stories. I tell them to myself first, so I always have to make sure they make sense to me. And that I love them. And that I love the people in them. Not all the time, of course. Some days I hate them, the horse they rode in on and their stupid houses, too. For fun, I think of various painful ways to kill them. But I think I have to have love for them about 90% of the time. After all, if I don’t love them and care what is going to happen to them, why should you?

I also know that I have to keep telling the stories. If I don’t, they sit in my head and interrupt my life and try to explain to me why I should. So I’ll keep writing them and hopefully someone will keep publishing them and hopefully a few someones will keep buying them.

I know what works for me. And I’m happy to share that knowledge with you if you ask or at my Passionate Pen website. But I don’t claim to know anything about what will work for you. I think that’s something each writer has to learn. Some of us are slower, some are quicker. Some of us write super hot, some aren’t comfortable with that. Some of us plot and some can’t stand the do anything but write by heart. I can’t tell you what will work for you. I hope you won’t try to tell me what ‘should’ work for me. Or that the way I choose to do things is wrong. Because it’s not. It may just be wrong for you.

I know that I am, on the whole, positive about my fellow writers. And about the industry. And about my place in it. That doesn’t mean I don’t have fears or worries, but I think that readers love romance. And that most writers aren’t out to hurt each other. There are a few who do seem to enjoy it, but they are few and far between. I hope I’m never one of them. And I hope if I am then someone will quietly point it out (though not on my blog or a message board or something).

And the thing I know more than anything is that I love what I do. And that I’m very pleased that people hop on board and take the ride with me. So… thanks. The next ride is FROM LONDON WITH LOVE (July 25) and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Ahh, where to begin. It’s been a fantabulous week.

Our new addition, the still-unnamed kitten, is no longer terrified or in shock at his relocation. Personality traits are beginning to emerge. He likes to lick my fingers and toes, as if he’s grooming one of his littermates. I don’t recall our previous cats doing that, but then it has been more than 17 years since we had a fluffball this young in the house. Scooping his litter box is an irresistible siren call – he must come running to see what you’re doing. I haven’t overcome the technical difficulties of posting a pic here, but I do have one on my web site. http://www.shirleykarr.com/photos/

He’s getting bigger and stronger, and just entered the fearless psycho kitty stage, wherein he’ll jump or climb anything. Or at least attempt. He’ll leap from the sofa cushion to the coffee table (which is still cleaned off!) and nearly skid off the far edge. His favorite solo toy is a flutterball, a stuffed cloth with tail feathers which he likes to attack for minutes on end, but he really prefers the kitty lure – a wad of colorful mylar strands at the end of a long string attached to a pole. At first I was worried he was interacting with the lure, not us, but he’s smarter than I thought. If we don’t get the lure moving the way he wants, he’s not shy about voicing a protest while making direct eye contact. He doesn’t have cause to complain often, because the entertainment value of his acrobatic leaps and flips in pursuit of the lure is so high — much more fun to watch than anything on TV. After his manic energy is spent, he’s ready to be cuddled and petted, and is just as at home on a shoulder as a lap or even a boneless sprawl over both of my feet, warming my toes.

Now, as to entertainment value at the movie theater… I’ve never before felt the need to attend a midnight premiere of any movie, but there we were Thursday night, for one of six sold-out showings of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest.
Oh, my.
It was totally worth getting only three hours sleep before having to be at the office at nine Friday morning. The bad part about a sold-out show is that we ended up in two of the only four bad seats in the theater, so our view of the screen was partially obstructed. I was planning on catching a matinee Saturday on the way home from my RWA chapter meeting, but my husband shocked me by A.) being the one to begin discussing the movie again Friday evening and B.) saying he wouldn’t mind seeing it again. I love my husband!

So we saw it again Saturday afternoon, in a full but not capacity theater, with lots of kids who were less inhibited in their laughter, groans and gasps in appropriate places than the late night crowd of adults had been. Jack Sparrow is more Wile E. Coyote than Bugs Bunny in this story, and the scenes with the cannibals are hilarious. We also get the promised character development, seeing deeper aspects of Jack’s personality. The highs are higher, the lows are lower. And his vexing streak of honesty and goodness trips up his best-laid plans. He really is a better man than he wants to be, something that has fascinated me about the character from the first time we met him. In DMC, he is terrified (rightfully so!), but takes action in spite of that fear, which makes him even more brave.

In the promo clips, we see Elizabeth (Keira Knightley) telling Jack (Johnny Depp) there will come a moment when he’ll have the chance to do the right thing. “I love those moments,” is his flip reply. “I like to wave at them as they pass by.” As writers and avid readers, we know the moment will inevitably come, and that most likely Jack would not wave as it passed by. I wasn’t disappointed. Even better, I was surprised at how it played out. It’s the kind of brilliant writing I admire in that yes, it is a surprise when it happens, but in retrospect, it’s not all that surprising because it’s really the only way it could have played out.

As the credits rolled, I wanted to shout “No! You can’t end it like that!” but I felt the same frustration when Han Solo was frozen in carbonite at the end of Empire Strikes Back, which is also part two of a trilogy, like DMC. At least we only have to wait ten months for the premiere of part three to see how Jack’s going to get out of this fine mess, unlike the three agonizing years George Lucas made us wait before he thawed Han Solo.

One of our local radio stations recently asked people to call in on the question–would you tell someone if they came to work with a price tag still attached to their shirt? Apparently the topic got started when one of the on-air personalities discovered he had a dryer sheet (not a price tag) coming out of his sleeve all morning and no one had said a word.

I’ve had my share of embarrassing situations. I’ve:

left the tags on clothes
left the size stickers on pants
worn a sheath dress inside out (and no it wasn’t reversible)
had food (pepper is the worst) stuck in my teeth
had toilet paper stuck to my shoe
had my dress stuck up in my panty hose (in the back)

I’ve always appreciated when someone has said something to me about it. Have I always mentioned it to someone else? I think I have…unless the person with food in their teeth was a stranger.

How about you? Have you had an embarrassing moment? And, would you say something to someone if you saw any/all of the above?

Since my new book Reality TV Bites just came out, this week has been really busy. One thing I’ve been doing to promote the book is to sign stock at the local bookstores. This involves calling all the stores to make sure they have the book in stock, then driving all over town, stopping in at each store and signing the stock.

Except for the drudgery of driving, it’s always an interesting experience. When I go in to sign stock, I get every kind of reaction you can imagine.

Reaction #1: Oh, my God! You’re an author!
This is kind of a fun reaction. I’m usually offered food, drinks, the sales person’s first-born son…you get the idea. But it’s also kind of embarrassing. When I get this reaction, I always wish I’d dressed better or brought some friends so it would look like I have an entourage. I never feel like I measure up to what I’m supposed to be.

Reaction #2: Yeah, so?
This is the reaction I usually get from high school kids. I tell them I’m the author of the books and want to sign the store’s stock, and they couldn’t care less. I usually have to explain a couple of times that I’m not actually going to buy my books. I’m just going to sign them. This usually elicits a call to the manager, which goes something like this: “Yeah, this lady is out here and wants to sign books. Is that okay?”

Reaction #3: Yeah, right.
Believe it or not, there are often sales people who do not believe I am the book’s author. They ask to see my driver’s license and even showing them the picture in the back of the book (which looks exactly like me) isn’t sufficient proof. The problem is, of course, that my driver’s license doesn’t say SHANA GALEN. It doesn’t even say SHANE BOLKS any more. It has my married name, so once again a call to the manager is usually necessary.

Reaction #4: Hey, baby.
This reaction is not for my husband, so honey, stop reading now.

Okay, the rest of you…for some reason male bookstore employees are very flirtatious toward authors. They have tons of questions and flirty responses. I’m too pretty or too young or don’t look serious enough to be an author. I try not to roll my eyes at these comments. And they want to know where I live and how old I am and am I really married (I tell them yes, and show the rings, honey — stop reading!). I actually used to work in a bookstore, and I can’t remember ever flirting with authors or customers, so this, again, is a new one on me.

Reaction #5: What you’d expect
This is the boring reaction whereby the manager or sales associate just gives me the books to sign, says thanks, and I walk out again. It’s the least painless, but the most boring.

And that is another glimpse into the not-so-fabulous life of an author. There’s one good thing about signing books — at least I know I can still get carded.

If you are an author or an aspiring author–or even a reader who knows a bit about the current trends in publishing–then you are probably already well aware that it pays to be prolific in today’s market. After all, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to do the math. If you are a writer who can churn out three or four books a year rather than just one or two, your odds of making it in the competitive world of romance writing obviously improve significantly.

I can remember a time in the not-too-distant past when I considered myself lucky if my favorite authors turned out a new novel once a year. And usually the wait in between releases was even longer. Johanna Lindsey, Kathleen E. Woodiwiss, Julie Garwood. Books from these ladies were rare treats that I awaited anxiously for months and sometimes years. Now, the norm for most popular writers is a book every 6-9 months. This is partly due to the need to build name recognition and a readership, to stand out among the ever growing number of romance authors out there. But a great deal is also due to reader demands. And it is highly unlikely that this is going to change anytime soon. As long as the demand is there, publishers will follow the call.

As an avid reader myself, I can understand the anticipation of looking forward to the release of a new book from a favorite author. When we love an author’s work, we want their next book as quickly as we can get our hands on it. And if we can have it NOW, that’s even better. Some authors can pull this off beautifully. They have no problem writing quickly AND writing well. Nora Roberts is the Queen of Prolific Authors. (Just how many hands does this woman have anyway??) Sherrilyn Kenyon/Kinley MacGregor not only manages to put out a large number of books per year, but also manages to juggle several different series in several different genres. Talk about Superwoman!! (We love you, Sherrilyn! )

But there are other authors out there who aren’t quite as successful at this. How many times have we as readers bemoaned the fact that an author’s latest books just aren’t as good as her earlier work? Let’s face it, most times a project rushed is bound to suffer as far as quality is concerned. In an ideal world, there would be no question as to whether quantity or quality is more important. But from a career standpoint, sometimes an author can feel forced to churn that book out, to rush to meet that demand, thus resulting in a book that may not be quite as good as it might have otherwise been.

So, what do you think? Is this something that the world of publishing should address? Readers, what about you? Are you growing more concerned with this trend? Would you be willing to wait for a year or more for a book from your favorite author if she could promise you it would be a spectacular book? Authors, do you find yourself feeling pressured to meet the demand to write quickly, and how do you cope with that pressure? How do you ensure that your work is still the best it can be? Which is more important to you, quality or quantity?

Hello all! I’m subbing in for Robyn, who graciously invited me to guest blog here with the Quills today. As you can imagine, I’ve been counting the days lately. Only less a month to my debut, ONCE UPON A WEDDING NIGHT. If you haven’t checked out my website, feel free to wander over. It’s www.sophiejordan.net. I have a new contest up as well as an excerpt.

Now, onto today’s blog. Unrequited Love. I love books with this theme. When love begins this way it’s so one-sided and seems so hopeless … it just makes my heart bleed. It’s so much more gratifying when a couple gets together against such an unlikely start. I prefer for the person suffering unrequited love to be the heroine. Always have. I don’t want to read about some beautiful girl blind to the fact that this great hunk of a guy is in love with her. I wouldn’t like her very much. Now, a guy being blind? That’s believable. =)

Seriously, I was that girl in high school that was always the “friend”. The “gal pal”. My best friend throughout high school was a guy — one of the hottest guys in school, to be exact. I was … well, I was just me. My theme song throughout high school was that Vanessa William’s song “Save The Best For Last”. I would bawl whenever she got to this part:

“All of the nights you came to me
When some silly girl had set you free
You wondered how you’d make it through
I wondered what was wrong with you
‘Cause how could you give your love to someone else
And share your dreams with me”

That was my life precisely. Oh, the agony!! I scripted “our romance” in my head a thousand times. You know how it goe … some dramatic event would lead him to realize he loved me. All the good stuff, you know. Who knows? Maybe this led me to writing. Want a HEA? No sweat. Write one.

Fortunately, I now have my own real life HEA … and I also get to write them for a living. What more could a girl want? But I don’t think any theme will ever be sweeter than unrequited love for me (unrequited on the heroine’s side, that is).

As a matter of fact, I think this is why I loved Julia Quinn’s new book so much. Lucy was the “friend”, the “pal”. She fell for Gregory first and she had to watch him moon over her best friend. Now that’s a girl I can relate to!

In ONCE UPON A WEDDING NIGHT, both my hero and heroine are pretty opposed to “loving” each other — for different reasons — but the hero is the most “elusive”. The heroine comes around first of course and realizes she’s in love with him. However, I’m writing a series proposal right now and the heroine in book #1 suffers from unrequited love for the hero. And they grew up together as close friends. Ah, think of all the life experience I have. I knew all that heartbreak enriched me somehow. =) I’m so anxious to start this book. In fact, I don’t think I’ve been this excited to start a book since … well, I don’t know when.

So, what about you? Is unrequited love a favored theme? Does it matter who harbors the tendre? The hero or heroine?

Chat back!
Sophie

I’ like to come up with something incredibly patriotic to say…
Mostly I just wish our “fearless leaders” in Washington would quit using the media and every other means at their disposal to manipulate public opinion.

OK, off the soapbox.
Later this week, I’ll be going to contract with Avon for another book (or two, or three, I hope). These will be historical fantasy-paranormal stories revolving around a race of sorcerers who must enter the world of plain humans in order to retrieve three stones that possess special, powerful qualities. The sorcerers are two brothers and their female cousin, and each one will travel to a different point in time to retrieve the stones.

Book #1 is about the first brother, Brogan, who believes that the sorcerers should remain separate from plain humans. But he meets a young woman in 1813 England who gains his respect, then affection, then love …

I’ll tell you about the others as I get to them . Wish me luck!

Okay, perverts, before you get all ‘erotica writer, heh heh’ on me, that’s AURAL romance. Not ORAL. Meaning that is has to do with hearing. Sheesh. Are you all done giggling, class? May we get on with the blog?

So when I was a teenager (and younger), Bryan Adams was one of the hottest singers around. I went to his concert in, I think it was 1993 and he was fabulous! All his hits went to #1 (or at least the top 5). He was on the radio all the time (the summer of ‘Everything I Do (I Do It For You)’ was all Bryan, all the time. But I have come to realize, with the benefit of years, that the reason Bryan Adams was so popular was that he was singing romance novels.

Let’s consider. You have a man who clearly sounds like a man’s man. No falsetto here. Just gravely, sexy goodness. But he’s all kinds of romance heros who have just figured out they love their heroine. First, the groveling hero, from “Straight From the Heart”:

I could start dreamin’ but it’d never end
As long as you’re gone we may as well pretend
I’ve been dreamin’
Straight from the heart

Give it to me straight from the heart
Tell me we can make another start
You know I’ll never go – as long as I know
It’s comin’ straight from the heart

The swashbuckler, uber romantic hero from “Everything I Do (I Do It For You)”:

Look into your heart – you will find
There’s nothin’ there to hide
Take me as I am – take my life
I would give it all – I would sacrifice

Don’t tell me it’s not worth fightin’ for
I can’t help it – there’s nothin’ I want more
You know it’s true
Everything I do – I do it for you

The hero who has overcome enormous odds and never believed in love before now in “Heaven”:

Baby you’re all that I want
When you’re lyin’ here in my arms
I’m findin’ it hard to believe
We’re in heaven
And love is all that I need
And I found it there in your heart
It isn’t too hard to see
We’re in heaven

And of course, the very pinnacle of the Bryan Adams romance novel is “Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman” from the Johnny Depp movie, Don Juan DeMarco. I give it to you in its entirety:

To really love a woman
To understand her – you gotta know her deep inside
Hear every thought – see every dream
N’ give her wings – when she wants to fly
Then when you find yourself lyin’ helpless in her arms
You know you really love a woman

When you love a woman you tell her
that she’s really wanted
When you love a woman you tell her that she’s the one
Cuz she needs somebody to tell her
that it’s gonna last forever
So tell me have you ever really
- really really ever loved a woman?

To really love a woman
Let her hold you –
til ya know how she needs to be touched
You’ve gotta breathe her – really taste her
Til you can feel her in your blood
And when you can see your unborn children in her eyes
You know you really love a woman

When you love a woman
you tell her that she’s really wanted
When you love a woman you tell her that she’s the one
Cuz she needs somebody to tell her
that you’ll always be together
So tell me have you ever really –
really really ever loved a woman?

You got to give her some faith – hold her tight
A little tenderness – gotta treat her right
She will be there for you, takin’ good care of you
Ya really gotta love your woman…

Then when you find yourself lyin’ helpless in her arms
Ya know ya really love a woman
When you love a woman you tell her
that she’s really wanted
When you love a woman you tell her that she’s the one
Cuz she needs somebody to tell her
that it’s gonna last forever
So tell me have you ever really
- really really ever loved a woman?

Just tell me have you ever really,
really, really, ever loved a woman?
Just tell me have you ever really,
really, really, ever loved a woman?

So, you see? Bryan Adams is always singing a romance novel. Whether it’s longing or joyful or sensual… it’s always a happily ever after, well earned.