Are you doing the Writer’s Waltz?

I love to dance, but not when I’m writing.I didn’t know there was a name for the steps I repeated as I played the same tune over and over in my head.
Write chapter one, chapter two, chapter three. There’s a great contest with the final judge from the publishing house I want to submit to.
Rewrite chapter one, chapter two, chapter three. Make it perfect.
Ooops, didn’t finish first. Rewrite one, two, three.
No grammatical errors, the plot moves, characters reveal their conflicts and goals. Another contest, so rewrite one, two, three.
It's so good, an editor requests the manuscript.
Only you’ve been so busy doing the one, two, three steps, the rest didn’t get finished.
Ask any editor and she’ll tell you how many manuscripts have chapters one two three polished like diamonds, but the remainder is poorly done.
The secret is to finish that first draft before doing those rewrites and edits.
Hard? Sure. I know that waltz very well. I did it for years.
Did I learn anything?
Yes. Not to listen to the pretty music.

I wasn’t invited to the celebration, but I’ll raise my glass anyway

Breast cancer is no joke. It’s a fear every woman lives with her entire adult life.
I religiously do a self-exam and have my scheduled mammogram even though none of my family has suffered with it. So, I want to tell you about a woman I know who I’ll call Rita.
She has a mother and sister who had breast cancer, so she does everything right. When she had a pain in her breast that didn’t fade, she had a mammogram and a sonogram. Nothing showed, but when her sister mentioned it to her oncologist she recommended an MRI because of the family history.
Rita had the MRI and they found a small tumor behind the muscle in the other breast. Who would suspect? It was cancer. She’s had radiation and chemo.
The treatments worked.
She celebrated Friday night with a few close friends.
I wasn’t invited, but I celebrate for her. Here’s to you, Rita. Long life and Good Health.

Keeping up with the Jones’

My parents had a color television. They were proud to say it was the first on our block. We weren’t rich by any means. Ordinary people living ordinary lives. My Dad was working class, making his way into management. My Mom stayed at home and volunteered. In many ways, they were caught in the Jones’ race. My brother had to go to college. My sister and I had the latest fashions.
I didn’t go to college until I was thirty-five. Years later I realized that it was my parents’ dream I was still chasing. Those Jones’ again. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad I went. I enjoy saying master’s degree on my resume although that seems like a land far, far away.
My dream was and always had been to tell my stories.
So here I am. Not so famous author of romances with a website, a blog, an email address that uses my pen name and four books contracted for publication.
I'm still trying to keep up with the neighbors. Have you seen all those author interviews? Read all the wonderful critiques? Checked all those lovely covers? Written and contracted four books this year with a major house? On and On I race.
So far, the Jones’ are in the lead.
Barbara

Delete that sucker!

Boy, do I understand about the email addiction. When I was seriously trying to finish my manuscript, I set everything to no-mail or digest. And checked every other day. Gosh did I have jittery fits wondering what I was missing, but it was really freeing. Then reality set in. I have an ebook to sell. I have to be on the web.
The break did allow me to do some rethinking. Many posts from similar interest loops are repeats-delete. Personal messages-after a congratulations-delete, good review-ditto, new grandbaby- delete, signing off or on- delete, pictures of the cat, dog, baby-delete.
You get the idea.
My delete key has the writing worn off, but its cut my time on email in half.
I love the contact with that big world. People are the source of so much information, support or help. Deleting has to do with priorities.
My writing must come first, then selling my books. I didn't 'get' that message for years. I bet most successful authors have.

Why didn’t anyone give me a magical roadmap?

Daily entries sounded so easy. Find an interesting topic. Jot a few paragraphs. Post and wait to answer all the comments. Hah. First, the list of things to do every day grows like Jack’s beanstalk. And I’m not Jack climbing ambitiously, I’m the cow being lead down a sidepath.
Do me a favor. Tell me the secret formula. You know the one. How do you do it? I want to be Superwoman, although Wonder Woman will do. Click those magic bracelets together and alakazam. Yikees.
Where is my brain? It doesn’t happen that way. Not in my world. In my world the magic is a good scene written, a plot snag resolved, a nice word from my editor. All so small in the overall scheme of things, but like shiny pebbles are so pretty when collected.

So you write those trashy bodice-rippers

Yes! After years of mumbling a reply when asked what I write, I lift my head and square my shoulders. I’m proud to say ‘Romance’.
Why? Romance novels are a powerful societal force. They show ordinary men and women working through problems, overcoming obstacles, finding love, and overcoming evil.
Romance novelists show social problems and how people react to them. A prime example is Kathleen Eagle. She writes of the difficulties of the American Indian in a heart-warming manner that can be related to many readers.
The first novel I ever read about rape was the first romance book printed by Meteor Publishing. It dealt with the difficult emotional recovery of a woman and the man who stood by her. Literacy, alcoholism, homelessness, single motherhood, adoption and the search for roots have all been done in a number of sympathetic ways.
Not every book takes on the deep subjects. Some are for fun. Or erotic. Or inspirational. I love it when a taboo subject is exposed. And I applaud the writers who venture into areas like mastectomy, blindness, handicapped individuals of any kind, and show us that love is never limited to the perfect few.
Have you found that author who stirred your heart? Do you write something that grabs a reader, makes her laugh or cry?