RT Pictures

The authors' panel at Bobbi Smith's workshop.  From the left, that's Heather Graham, Debra Parmley, Linnea Sinclair and Jade Lee. I tried to get a shot of Stacey Kade (who is sitting next to Linnea) but just couldn't  get a shot around that head in the way.

This is the gift basket that Lizzie T. Leaf, Sam Cheever and I contributed to for the booksellers at the convention.

Laura Baumbach talking with Robert Gregory Browne at "our" table in the bar.  We chose the table for two reasons: first, it was right by the elevator banks and second, because it gave us an unadulterated view of our banner.  Both Laura and Robert are great people to talk to--and drink with...not that I would know...

For some reason, Lizzie T. Leaf (on the left) and Sandra Hicks didn't want this picture to be seen by anyone. *grin*

So naturally, I had to post it.  I think it's funny and I'm not sure how many hurricanes and glasses of wine we'd had by this particular point in the evening.

"Saving the boys"

The Faerie Ball was a lot of fun, but we were considered a safe haven for Bret Battles, Robert Gregory Browne and Jason Scott Bell after the strip show the night before during Ellora Cave's Red party. (The male dancers didn't actually strip, which was a bummer, but the boys weren't taking any chances)  That's Cynthia Vespia on the left. keeping them entertained.  All three men were fabulous people and fantastic writers, and I've added Jason's The Art of War for Writers to my reference shelf. Outstanding book about writing--I recommend it highly.

Another picture of Cynthia Vespia, who was signing copies of her book The Crescent at the Thursday Book Expo. Female gladiators!!! Let me repeat that--female gladiators!!!!! Cyn's books are a hell of a lot of fun--but I knew that already from reading her Demon Hunter series.

Lizzie T. Leaf, looking absolutely gorgeous as she prepared to sign copies of her book Dead Done Right.  I edit Lizzie and she's one of my favorite writers to work with.

Another of my favorite writers that I edit--that's the glorious LB Gregg on the left, sitting next to Cyn at the AMP bar table. If you look closely, you can see our banner over LB's right shoulder. 

Lucynda Storey, my fabulous editor for the Asphodel series, at the Friday book signing.  That's my Mythos 1: Bride of Death cover in the lower right hand corner.  We all switched up on the promo items, mixing and matching them all week for greater AMP exposure--one of the great benefits of working together as a group to promote each other.

And this would be my husband Shannon, looking adorable and pretending to listen intently before he kills off that Killians in his hand. As far as I was concerned, Shannon won "Husband of the Convention" honors for always double-checking--and sometimes stocking--my promo lane display as soon as he arrived at the convention each night. It didn't take long for the other AMP ladies to learn to appreciate my husband either. By the end of the week, he'd been thoroughly spoiled by all of them.

If anyone else has RT pictures they want to share, just drop me a line!  Because, you might have noticed, there's something missing in all these pictures--me. *grin* Not that it was intentional or anything.

A Month In The Life--Saturday, May 1, 2010

Yep--you get an extra day in this month because this whole past month has been about the Romantic Times convention and this was the last day of it, at least for me.  So May Day was spent  dancing around the flower laden pole that is a book signing at a major event with major authors.

No, I didn't get to sign.  I got to watch and take pictures and run errands, which was total awesomness from my point of view. First off, I was in sneakers and jeans--sheer bliss after five days of misery. I'd determined from the beginning that while I would love to have every single darn book in the ballroom, I had to restrict myself. So I kept to books from writers who'd been especially helpful and/or friendly throughout the week.

First off, then, was the lovely and simply loveable Bobbi Smith.  Aside from hosting and directing the two-day pre convention workshop that was the most helpful event I've ever attended as a writer, Bobbi has one of those absolutely incredible personalities, the kind that makes you believe you can go out and do exactly what she believes you can do. I would happily spend a week or two brewing her coffee and taking phone messages for this woman--and I honestly believe I would learn more doing that that I did in four years of writing classes at college.  She's one of my new idols.

Isn't Bobbi beautiful? I wish I could wear that color pink, but alas!  Too much red in this redhead's hair.

Next on the list was Linnea Sinclair. I really bonded with her and Stacey Kade during their workshop on how to stay inspired, and bonded even more with Linnea when the subject of scam agencies and vanity publishers came up in the author's panel.  She writes kick ass science fiction with kick ass heroines--not hard to understand at all since she's a kick ass kind of gal herself.  It's been a long time since I've dipped my toes in the sci fi pool, and Linnea has convinced me to do it. I can't wait to read her book.

See what I mean? Linnea is an absolute firecracker!

I have to admit, by the end of the week I felt like a Misery-esque number one fan of Jade Lee.  Her characterization workshop completely changed the way I look at my characters and if it weren't for her advice on pitches during the authors' panel, I would never have gotten the requests I did.  But all that aside, it's really hard for me not to totally dig a chick who's as smartass as I am, writes the kind of fantasy I love, seems to have a similar outlook on writing and speculative fiction as I do AND who used my promotional document stands all over her table at the booksigning. It would be the equivalent of Albert Einstien using my abacus to demonstrate the theory of relativity and I totally ate that up.  Here's Jade in one of her more serious moments:

One of my favorite new acquaintances during the entire convention, and once I got over being totallyu gobsmacked by even talking to her, I felt like I'd known her forever.

These pictures, by the way, took place before the doors opened.  After they opened, I wasn't able to get any more great closeups and was barely able to get any books.  Why, you may ask?  Well, because there were at least 3,000 people streaming through the doors as best I could tell.  It got to the point that it was so crowded that it actually hurt to turn to one side and avoid running into someone--which, I might add, very few people other than me and Cynthia Vespia were that worried about.  We did creep upstairs to get a few shots of what the book signing looked like from above. This might help you understand.

Exactly. So while I did fight through the crowds to get books by Stacey Kade, Brett Battles and Robert Gregory Browne, I didn't dare take out my camera. 

We had a great afternoon all in all.  By the time the booksigning was over at three, all of us were exhausted. But, by the same token, I think we were all very happy.  We'd made lots of great new business acquaintances and friends, finally put some faces to the online screen names, and hopefully attracted a slew of new readers to Aspen Mountain Press.  Considering that most of our free time was spent in the bar (go figure) we ended up with a lot of fabulous talks and some amazing photo ops which I am under obligation not to post.

Until the post after this, because there's one more thing to tell you about RT that is really important.

Remember when I was named a finalist in Bobbi Smith's Creative Writing Challenge in the advanced writers' workshop?  I got to wear that badge all week. It's amazing how many people actually take the time to stop you and congratulate you when you have a big FINALIST tag between your boobs.  I'm assuming it was the badge...

At any rate, Saturday was the last big party of the convention.  We had a prom, hosted by Dorchester Publishing.  But it was important to me for another reason entirely: the winner of the Creative Challenge was going to be announced at that party.  All week, I'd pretty much talked myself into believing that one of the other two writers was going to win.  Both of them were talented young writers from what I'd heard of them in class. Besides, my storyline for Deception Enters Stage Left is so damn complicated!  How could anyone possibly judge that manuscript from the first chapter, which is all we submitted for the challenge? Although I knew that chapter was clean technically and set my story up perfectly, I was more than happy to just be named a finalist.  I'd already reaped so many benefits from that finalist position that I didn't dare to dream I'd actually win the darn thing.

So the party starts--and Jade Lee started it by doing the dance to TRHPS's Time Warp and then followed up with It's Raining Men--and there's no sign of any awards ceremony.  We're sitting at out table and Bobbi came up with a teddy bear and congratulated me for being a finalist.  So I thought, Well, that's obvious enough. The bear's cute though. I told the others I just needed to wait until the winner was announced so I could congratulate her and in case we were all called up onstage.

Shannon decided to go have a cigarette so he leaves, and not even ten seconds later Bobbi stands up and heads over to the stage, where they give her the microphone.  I couldn't help but laugh; we were sticking around for this announcement and my husband was going to miss the whole thing.  I opened up the camera and tried to turn it on--the darn batteries were dead.  So karma was already stomping the hint home--you didn't win you didn't win you didn't win...

Bobbi announced the third place finalist first.  To my shock, it wasn't me. The award was between myself and a really lovely young lady named Jennifer who I kept running into on every escalator in the whole darn complex.

But the runner-up's name wasn't Celina. It was Jennifer.  Sandra Hicks (the publisher of AMP) and I just looked at each other in shock.  Then Bobbi said, "And the winner of the Creative Writing Challenge with her manuscript Deception Enters Stage Left is--"

I didn't hear my name. I heard Deception and I was up on my feet, screaming and putting my shaking hands to my face like every Miss USA winner I've ever made fun of in the past.  That whole winning with dignity and grace crap?

Right out the window.

I managed to make it onto the stage without faceplanting--in and of itself a miracle considering I could barely walk--and Bobbi handed me this beautiful plaque with my name and the manuscript name on it (which meant that she'd known all along that I'd won) and then she handed me the microphone while she snapped a medal around my neck. Don't get excited: it was a little plastic medal, but who cares? It was cute. So while I'm juggling plaque, papers and microphone in my trembling hands, I lift the microphone to my lips and all I can think of to say is--

"Hi!"

Seriously Celina? Hi?  You couldn't even have come out with a You like me; you really like me? Absolutely and stunningly humiliating. So when I got back to my table, all the AMP ladies hugged me and laughed at me for bawling like a little b*tch and then Bobbi came over and handed me the real bonus prize.

Her agent's phone number.

And right after all this went down, my husband meandered back into the room after his cigarette and I had to face the facts: not only had Shannon missed the whole damn thing, but I didn't even have a picture of it.

Que sera sera.

So there you have it.  We left the party and went to the bar, where we downed two bottles of champagne and toasted each other.  I held on to that teddy bear and plaque like they were the last life jacket on the Titanic and somehow we managed to get through the worst part of the convention.

Saying goodbye.

Total RT stats: Six days. I was given or bought over thirty books. I gave away two hundred water bottles and five hundred document stands. I sent out ten full manuscripts: four to agents and six to publishers. I ran three pairs of hose in two days. I won one major award. I got one agent's phone number. I was introduced to a minimum of twenty-five NYT bestselling authors. I created one hell of a promotional space and had one half of the best 4 by 8 foot long banner there.

And several thousand fantastic memories.

So there you have it: a month in the life.  Now my world goes back to normal. I concentrate solely on writing and editing from here on out, shooting for my 8000 words a day and getting Aurora Regency launched while promoting my new releases and editing AMP manuscripts. I get to focus on my house and family a bit more while I continue to chase after my professional goals.And aside from a few more RT pictures, this month in the life is over. I'm going to take a couple of weeks off (ha! fat chance) and get back into my routine.

Hope you've enjoyed the ride.

A Month in the Life--Friday, April 30, 2010

I only got an hour of sleep last night.

I was hurting too badly to get comfortable.  I couldn't sleep anywhere--the bed, the couch, the chair, the floor. Nothing worked.  I finally dozed off for an hour around four, but woke up a little bit after five and just decided to forget about it.  My ankles had both rolled the day before and both were swollen and painful to the touch.  The flats I'd worn for the last two days had literally bruised my feet, so I chucked and went with my boots.  Yeah, I know--heels are a bad idea, but I needed the support for my ankles.

I had to keep telling myself that I only had to make it one more day. One more day of dressing up. One more day of a hectic schedule. One more day of being on my feet.  One more day of pitches.

Just one more day.

After the regular stocking session on Promo Lane and the obligatory smirk beneath the banner in the bar, I limped slowly off to the area set aside for pitch sessions.  The lady in charge of the pitch sessions is a lovely, sweet gal named Patti Lewis.  A reviewer and writer and former bookstore owner, Patti and I would meet up either at the pitch sessions (where she jokingly called me her stalker) or in the smoking area with the other ten smokers at the convention.  Every day, she was dressed beautifully and always with a coordinating hat.  All week, she'd handled the pitch sessions with aplomb and a charming, professional manner.

When I got there on Friday morning, Patti was surrounded by a horde of eager writers. That wasn't new. What was rude was a girl who was haranguing Patti at the top of her voice and butting in as Patti tried to help other people. 

In front of the editors and agents who were watching and waiting for their morning appointments.

I was horrified. Not only was this incredibly rude and bitchy, but it was so unprofessional that it literally made me cringe.  When Patti had finally had enough (and that was MUCH longer than I would have lasted), she told the girl to go sit down and she'd call her when it was her turn.

So instead, naturally, the girl stood three feet away, crying and blubbering to all her little friends about how mean Patti was--again, right in front of the agents and editors. Organizing those pitch sessions was a thankless job, and Patti Lewis did it with such grace and ease that I was more than impressed; I was awed. And for some little beyotch to stand there and bawl about how mistreated she was really made me want to knock her right off her Payless two-for-the-price-of-one-plus-a-dollar 1992 clogs.

I'm not certain how successful the whiny one was, but I certainly was.  I pitched to Tor, Grand Central publishing, Sourcebooks and Jim Mc Carthy of Dystel and Goderich and they all requested the manuscript.  Jim (who'd lost a battle with curry chicken at lunch) and I (who lost a battle with two pairs of hose in twenty minutes and made it to the pitch bare-legged and bitchy) had a great side conversation about Andrew Lloyd Weber, which made that pitch session even more pleasant than it would have been.  I was really quite surprised--these agents and editors were all kind, interested people, who genuinely wanted to like my book from the beginning and didn't scruple to say so.  I like to think I am now a pro pitcher, because on this day I went into those meeting without even the slightest bit of fuss.  It was fabulous.

Never be afraid to sit down and talk with an agent or editor. You'll miss out on an interesting conversation and some really fabulous people if you let your fear get in the way of the interpersonal interactions that can take place when two people are discussing something they both love--books.

Friday was also the Book Expo, where small press and e-published authors got to sign books for their fans.  The final six water bottles (I'd hidden them) and the last fifteen document stands helped identify me to the readers, who stopped by to see me, got some cover flats, ordered some book downloads and generally had fun.  There I am, talking to a young lady whose minor is classical mythology.  We had a great conversation. All in all, the Expo was a lot of fun.

But then, after the Expo was over, everything hit me at once. Once I'd changed into comfortable clothes and replaced the boots with tennis shoes on my poor, abused feet, exhaustion and pain made me into a bona fide martyr.  As a result, my husband took me home and I missed out on Heather Graham's Vampire Ball--which was the one social event I really wanted to attend.  I iced down my ankles--now a lovely shade of green--and went to bed, actually falling asleep before midnight. 

But I did derive a very important lesson from this day at RT--one I'm going to pass on to you.  An aspiring writer has no room for "bitch" in her repertory.  Treat everyone pleasantly (even the agent-who-shall-not-be-named who ditched me for my Friday morning appointment) and act like a professional.  You never know who is watching--and who will remember you as the wannabe diva who acted like a jackass because a real lady of class and dignity didn't have the time to instantly gratify you.

Act like a grownup, FFS. Jesus--how hard is it to do?

A Month In The Life--Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Ah...the first full day of the RT convention!

I was excited for lots of reasons. First off, the AMP ladies got in yesterday for the most part.  It was really great to meet my EIC, Sandra Hicks, for the first time--and Laura Baumbach, who is the EIC of MLR Press and a legend as far as I'm concerned.  But I also got to meet some of the writers I edit.  LB Gregg is adorable--little and sassy and spunky and shoes I would quite frankly kill for.  Helen Hardt is tall and elegant and drop dead gorgeous; Sam Cheever has the market cornered on cute and manages to do more things at one time than I do without looking like a spaz--like I do.  Lizzie T. Leaf took one look at me and instantly adopted me, I think.  Instantly, our relationship went from editor-writer to younger sister-older sister.  She told me what to do all week and I loved it.  Then, my husband went to pick Cynthia Vespia up at the airport this morning--she's staying with us in Lancaster.

The first thing I did this morning was head over to my spot on promotional lane.  Last night, I went to set it up and realized that we'd left the cover flats at home.  You know: the things with my names on them? Otherwise, all I had was a shelving unit with some Carnival masks hung on a board covered with fabric.  I ended up putting a few water bottles and document stands on the shelves, thinking I'd come back this morning and fill it all up.

Much to my surprise, it was totally empty this morning. Nary a bottle or document stand to be found. So, I decorated the space as I'd originally intended and stepped back to take a look.

No one else on Promo Lane had anything like I did.  Most of the other writers were giving away bookmarks in baskets.  So when this hit the convention:

--it got a lot of attention.  It also stayed fairly empty throughout the week, even to the point where people would grab them out of my hands while I was trying to restock.  Great fun overall, though--by the end of the convention I'd had my promo items, bookmarks from Lizzie, magnets from Eden Elgabri, flyers from Cynthia Vespia all on my promotion spot and every single darn thing was GONE.  We amused ourselves by wondering how many authors would go vertical next year with raspberry colored water bottles and red document stands in LA next year, and then by coming up with increasingly more outrageous ideas for what I'll do.  I'm thinking lights and fountains.

After all--it is LA.

I hit a couple of workshops on Wednesday afternoon, but the most important things I had to do were agent/editor appointments.  I had two scheduled for Wednesday afternoon and I was nervous about pitching to them.  I wasn't one hundred percent sure of what I was doing, so I took the time after lunch to narrow down and perfect my verbal pitch, implementing the information I'd learned the day before from the writers' panel at the pre-con workshop about pitches.  So when time arrived to pitch I was ready.

And I was stood up. TWICE.  Two totally different people from entirely different companies pulled no-call, no-shows for their appointments.  I found out later that the no-call no-shows were completely beyond their control, but that didn't help matters at the time.  I was pissed, and in my opinion, rightfully pissed and that was the state of my mind all the way through until the opening night party.

The first party was Ellora Cave's tenth birthday party and, as you can imagine, it was a little bit on the wild side.  We hung out there for a little while and then returned to the bar, where we could drink and gaze upon the beauty that was the banner--the book covers LB and I had put on that banner that now every drunk at the convention was staring at.  Those drunks (and not so drunks) were in turn stared at by the morticians' convention that was sharing top billing with Romantic Times.  I thought it was about the funniest thing I'd ever heard of: romance writers and funeral directors?  How funny!

I continued to think so until the next night. More on that later.

At any rate, I'd decided that I was going to nail down every single free spot on the pitch session schedule the next morning.  The workshops were all fine and good, but I was at RT to pitch my manuscript and that had to take priority.  Back in the bar, we befriended a trio of male writers: Brett Battles, James Scott Bell and Robert Gregory Browne.

 After a long evening of writer talk and quite a few beers, we all went our separate ways. 

Take a Gander at our Banner!

Yippee!

As you know, fellow AMP author LB Gregg and I went in on a banner for the RT Convention. Well, got out of the morning session and our banner is hanging in the bar!  Check it out:

More than a little stoked. The banner looks awesome and any time you have a banner in the bar at a writers/readers' convention it's got to be a good thing!

The morning session was awesome.  Jade Lee was back for more character development, while Linnea Sinclair and Stacey Kade taught a fantastic  workshop on staying inspired that was a lot of fun and very beneficial.  Bobbi and Judi gave a great lecture (and test) on self-editing that gave me a really good glimpse into what I should be looking for as both a writer and an editor in the manuscripts I'm working on.

The majority of the AMP writers are on their way, and I'll be meeting them this afternoon and still trying to figure out this darn promotional lane stuff. *sigh* But, this afternoon are the editor/agent panels in this workshop and I'm really looking forward to that.

Time for one more smoke (hopefully without rolling my ankle and falling on my ass like I did earlier) and then back to the workshop! Yippee!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010--Second Day of RT

Got a FANTASTIC new review yesterday for Mythos 1: Bride of Death from Siren Book Reviews.  The reviewer must have REALLY liked it. Check this out:

Forget everything you ever thought you knew about Hades, and dive into the Underworld, with the refreshed eyes of a virginal maiden goddess. Loose yourself in Celina Summers captivating tale of the Bride of Death.


Celina's vivid descriptions of the gods, their duties and the realms they rule, will give you a crash course in Greek Mythology, leaving you begging for more.

Wow.

She gave BOD four and a half out of five siren stones (stars, hearts, whatever) and finished up by saying this:

Hades' courtship of Persephone is romantic, even as the connection they share is overflowing with passion. The purity of his feelings for her, and her devotion to him remain profound even until the very end of the book.


Kudos to Aspen Mountain Press for the beautiful cover and near perfect editing, as it further enables the reader's enjoyment of Mythos: Bride of Death. I highly recommend this book and will come back to it again and again as a favourite read.

 
Wow, thanks!  You can read the entire review here.
 
More from RT later! I'm back in class and Jade Lee is here again. I need to listen. :)

Monday, April 26, 2010--First Day of RT

First off, I'm an idiot. I took my camera and didn't take a single damn picture. Mea culpa.

I opted to take Bobbi Smith's two-day pre-convention workshop for Advanced Writers. First off, let me say that Bobbi is a lovely, lovely lady. She is personable and genuinely interested in the writers in her class. The entire day was enjoyable and stimulating and well worth the money.

Throughout the day, there are mini-workshops that deal with specific facets of romance writing. And while they have all been helpful, for me the high point of the day was Jade Lee's workshop on characterization. Jade is an expressive firecracker of a lady and has a sense of humor I really respond to--sarcastic and knee-slapping hysterical. Her description of how they staged a clinch cover was hysterical. Barbells and a crate become a drawing room and an exercise bench turned into a chaise lounge for a pair of models posing for the photographer. Absolutely. Hysterical. She also made a comment about cougars in turtlenecks.

I am a cougar; I was wearing a turtleneck.

No rest for the weary.

I could watch her for hours, but it didn't take long for me to get sucked into her presentation. She asked us all to assign our hero/heroine three adjectives and then assign them an elemental theme based on those adjectives.  She loved my heroine; hated my hero.

Totally fair, by the way. I was getting a series of dramatic text messages from my daughter who was throwing a tantrum over something stupid, so I copped out and picked adjectives for him like 'engimatic.' Duh. Seriously, Celina? You paid a hundred and twenty-five bucks to describe your hero as 'enigmatic?'
I am so glad I took this workshop. THIS is exactly what I needed to hear, not ‘oh Celina that’s so great!’ And I won a prize for being brave enough to go first and not crying like a little bitch which was what I first wanted to do when she critiqued my hero adjectives. Again, keep it simple, stupid. If the story and the characters are so damn complicated that you have trouble explaining them in a workshop setting, how in the hell are you going to explain them in a pitch?
I think I’ve just connected the dots on Terella. Damn! The problem with Jade's workshop is that the concept is so simple it's brilliant, and it always pisses me off to learn a concept from someone else that I should have thought of myself.  Bottom line--lovely lady, fantastic workshop, great experience.

And I won a book!  Always a great thing.

At any rate, between Jade and Bobbi, I learned a lot of new approaches to my work. A lot of the information I gleaned from the first day of workshops will be better employed by me as an editor than as a writer.

After we were done for the day, several of us went to the big bar on the second floor (I should have capitalized it; the name of the big bar is the Big Bar--no lie!  Ohio creativity at work...) for a few glasses of wine. I spent a pleasant hour talking with a fantastic lady and writer from Florida named Linda--and yes, I'm a big enough idiot I forgot to get her last name. I'll rectify that today and provide pictures too. We hashed over the workshop, e-publishing, and the twists and turns of the erotica genre before I went home.  I laid down on the couch at seven...

...and woke up this morning at seven. Everything I needed to get done, I didn't. So now you're caught up. The rest of the week is all RT--and look for several posts a day.

A Month in the Life--Thursday, April 22, 2010

Can I just mention the absolute drudgery of burning CDs?

It is a long, drawn out, hellish procedure and it takes even longer to burn an image onto the CD itself than it does the text files.  Amazing.  At any rate, I need CDs of my own work (The Reckoning of Asphodel, Metamorphosis and Mythos 1: Bride of Death), excerpts from the Cougar Club stories and excerpts from the Aurora Regency books. 

I started this morning at 7:30 and worked until midnight and all I did was burn images onto CDs. No text; no books; no excerpts--just the name of each CD and what was on it. Sixteen plus hours of mind-numbing work and still more to do tomorrow.  Ah...such is life.

A Month In The Life--Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Guess what I've got???!?!?!?

Holy hell!  Yes I do!  I have cover art for Mythos 2: Daughter of the Sea!

I totally love this cover.

Audrey and I worked for about eight hours straight today--not counting baby play breaks, of course--and the TO DO list is shrinking steadily.  We walked to the fabric store and picked up more supplies, and then spent a fun afternoon watching the baby in her bouncer and working on my display. 

A great day. Productive too.

A Month in the Life--April 20, 2010

My day started at seven--a little late for me, but I'd been up until five am the night before.  To start off with, I spent a lot of time this morning involved with e-mails and editing. Despite my resolve not to edit until after the convention, I neglected to realize that I needed to edit the excerpts for the Aurora promotional CDs.  So that took a couple of hours, then I had to lay the documents for the CD out again. Once that was done, though, I went to work on the house. Audrey would be here at about five.

Funny, isn't it? I called Audrey for help because my back was fucked up and then proceeded to fuck it up more getting the house clean for her stay here with the baby--who promptly messed the house right back up.  I started in the guest bedroom.

I've been getting ready for Cynthia Vespia to come stay with me during the convention. So, I went ahead and decked out the guest room with new linens and things and hadn't planned on putting them out until right before she got here.  Well, naturally, that didn't work out quite as I planned.  So I put on the new bed linens (gorgeous) and dusted and scrubbed and cleaned.  When, at last, the guest bedroom was *perfect* I went into the living room, fully intending to get some promotional work done.

That lasted five minutes.  Two hours later, the living room was immaculate and I went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

An hour and a half later, including a lovely half-hour span on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor, I had to go to the restroom.

Well, I'd bought a new shower curtain too.  I couldn't very well hang it unless I cleaned the rest of the bathroom, right?

It was now four-thirty.  I took a broom to the hallway and was just sweeping the last of the debris into the dustpan when the door opened and here came Audrey and the baby! 

Guess what I did the rest of the day?

Yep. Exactly. Save for the one-time pristine condition of my now-wrecked house, I accomplished absolutely nothing.  I'd call it a wasted day, but hell--now my baby is here with her baby.  Overall, then, it was a great day.

A Month in the Life--Monday, April 19, 2010

My daughter Audrey's twenty-second birthday!

Today was also the day I came to a momentous decision. I will not write or edit anything else until after the Romantic Times convention.

Why, you may ask?

Because I can't.

There's no way I can get all this done. I have to be able to walk (or at least sit up) for the convention next week. I also have to have all my materials done and looking professional before I go, otherwise this has all been a waste of time and energy.  Now, I'm not one to perpetuate exercises in futility, but it still makes me feel kind of inadequate that I can't get all this done on my own.

It was hard, admitting that I don't have a big *S* on my spandex superhero suit. I am unaccustomed to confessing my humanity.  But, after an hour of staring helplessly at the pile of material and glitter and feathers and sequins and jewels and masks and copies of my book covers on photo paper waiting to be cut and blank CDs and jewel cases and four packing boxes of water bottles and one of magnets and one of document stands--all the time hoping desperately that my pain pill would kick in so I could get up off the couch, common sense won out over ego.

I called my daughter--on her birthday--and asked her to come up and bail me out.  She's an artist.

Yeah, I'm not entirely stupid.

She gets here tomorrow, so I spent the rest of the day putting together text documents for the promotional CDs and cleaning the house. We're going to give Audrey a surprise birthday party when she gets here with cake and candles and presents because she didn't have much a a birthday at her house.  Then, when she does get here, we can work on these things together.

There's another fringe benefit, of course. Audrey will be bringing her baby who turns six months old tomorrow.  So on breaks, I'll get to play with Aurora!  Yay!

No word count. Three Aurora Regency CD files, four Cougar Club CD files, the preliminary layout for the Aurora Regency brochure--all are done.

A Month In The Life--Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Wednesdays really are hump days in this house.  First off, it's my TV night.  Between Ghost Hunters, Destination Truth, Top Chef Masters & America's Next Top Model the DVR is kept occupied.  I love the new AT&T Uverse service we have. I can record FOUR shows at the same time AND still watch something else on television.

Fabulous.

At any rate, every Wednesday I tell myself that I'll keep working and watch those shows on breaks later in the week.  And every Wednesday, I take four hours off and watch them all, back-to-back, skipping the commercials. So Wednesday night after nine is usually a total wash.  I try to make up for it by getting lots done on Wednesday day.

After going a few more rounds on the cover art for Butterfly Kisses, I finally intervened and sent both parties an email.  I usually try to stay out of cover art wars for my writers' books--they have to like it, not me.  But right now the art department is overwhelmed with things to do for RT and Butterfly Kisses comes out way too soon for my liking or comfort.  At any rate, they settled on a cover by late afternoon and much joy was the result.

I also saw the first mockup for the cover of Warding the Covenants, which comes out on April 30--and I am excited.  It's absolutely gorgeous!  They are making a few modifications, just minor little tweaks, and we should finalize it in the next couple of days.  As soon as I have the final mockup, I'll give you a peek.  This cover may just be my absolute favorite cover to date.  Simply stunning.

A lot of time was spent today working on the promotional things for RT.  LB Gregg and I ordered a banner--a huge eight by four foot banner that will be displayed in the lobby of the Hyatt throughout RT--with one of her covers and one of mine.  Kind of the two sides of AMP sort of thing.  That is lovely.  What is not so lovely are the boxes of promtional items I ordered that somehow need to translate to a 15" by 15" space.

Have you ever tried to figure out how to get 200 sports water bottles (raspberry with black--name, website and the Mythos title) in a space that's less than a foot and a half square? Yeah...not happening.  I played around with several containers in my house, trying to find one that not only fit but that I'd be willing to decorate (and possibly ruin with spray adhesives and whatnot).  I may have come up with a solution.  In my laundry, there's an 11" by 11" shelving unit.  I would happily paint and glue things all over that AND, with creative stacking, I can fit 50 water bottles and 100 document stands into the space using that and a couple of really awesome wooden containers in my house.  I can not only get my name out ther and VERY visible, but I won't have to worry about someone knocking the whole darn thing over and having a raspberry and black bottle with my name on it catastrophe.  At that point, I started to layout and print off the panels I'm using on the shelving units--

--and it's all contingent upon that shelf being okayed by the RT people.  We shall see. Cross your fingers.

I uploaded the final of In and Out, did some editing work on the flagship novel of the Aurora Regency Historicals line--The Pursuit by Kimberly Nee. The novel is set in post-Revolutionary War America and it's a dandy!  I am going to try to get all the AR books through their first edits before RT, but I'm running out of time and have some other considerations that are starting to get urgent.

Once again, this was a no word count day.  But, considering that I worked fifteen hours between editing and promotional things, this was a very productive day.  Hopefully, I can keep this pace up.  If I can get all my promotional work done by the end of the weekend, next week I should be able to really hit the groove in writing again--if I can hold out that long.  The muse is yelling at me, but I'm ignoring her mightily.

A Month In The Life--Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Today has been an incredibly confusing day--of course which ones aren't?  Today's been dedicated mostly to editing and the Aurora imprint.

I got Lizzie's first edits back to her for the next Cougar Club story, Butterfly Kisses. She's also been going rounds with cover art--there's some kind of communication breakdown going on there.  By the end of the day, however, we were well on the way to getting the editing on track and I think she's going to end up with a fabulous story out of it.

I also finished off LB Gregg's next Men of Smithfield novel In and Out. Lately with Aspen Mountain I've been editing a lot of m/m erotic romance.  The market is hot and LB is one of the best m/m authors I've worked with, if not the best.  This story, in my opinion, is her best one yet--so good, as a matter of fact, that we resorted to nitpicking over usually unimportant things.  For example, should goddamnit be lowercase or should it be Goddamnit?  LB likes uppercase; I prefer lowercase. (Yes, I have reasoning behind it--if you use the word goddamnit you're not only breaking a commandment but you're disrespecting the Christian deity.)  In my mind, that means you don't capitalize the word.  LB disagreed. 

She won.

*shrug* What? It's her book. She can capitalize it in hers and I'll keep it lowercase in mine.  It all works.  As long as an author is consistent within her own work it's really just a semantic question anyway.

So those two projects took up most of the day.  Then, I devoted the rest of the day and well into the night getting the first Aurora Regency story's first edits completed and to the author.  Marguerite Butler's Compromising Prudence was the first book signed by Aurora Regency and one of the flagship regencies of the line.  It's light, fun, frothy and madcap--in other words, the perfect Regency romance.  It'll be released on July 21, 2010--the anniversary of AMP and the launch date of Aurora Regency and its sister line Aurora Regency Historicals.  I'm getting very excited.  I spent a few hours creating the Aurora promotional items for RT--all that's left to do is to burn some CDs and get some cover art for the jewel cases.

So, things are cruising right along.  Taking a few days off from writing to recharge the creative juices and get some of these huge projects done for RT.  Between brochures and flyers and promotional CDs and my promo stuff and what-the-goddamn (see?)-else-ever I need to get done.  So no word count for today, unless you count about 120,000 words edited in full over an 18 hours period.

A Break In The Month and a Breakthrough in the Creative Process

*So since I killed off my technology for the weekend, I did write this blog post as a kind of makeup entry--you know...like when your husband brings home flowers because he accidentally washed all your white permanent press with his brand new red boxers and wonders why you're crying at the sight of pink doll clothes?  Yeah, like that--here we go.*

A word of advice--if you're a writer in search of an agent and a big publishing contract, do not watch Julie and Julia. Seriously. Don't.

Don't get me wrong--I love the movie. I think it's hysterical and I can no more turn it off than I can say, "No, I don't think I want another Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. Really."  What gets me about the movie is the way it portrays the writer's journey.  It begins with a girl who has a basic idea--she's going to write a blog about her attempt to work her way through Julia Child's landmark cookbook Mastering the Art of French Cooking. The concept of that blog was so fiendishly simple, and yet smart too. What could be easier than documenting one woman's attempt to follow in her heroine's footsteps by dedicating herself to perfecting those recipes?  But it's clever too.  Julia Child is an icon, one that's dear to American audiences.  See how clever that is?  Even people whose only experience with Julia Child was the SNL skits about her would recognize her.

I love it.

Then there's the parallel story--the story of the long and tortuous path Julia Child followed from simple government wife to the Cordon Bleu Institute (where she flunked her first graduation test) through the heartbreak and years of work it took to craft that darn cookbook.  But here's where the real parallel--the Gotcha! moment of the story hits me in the gut.

Julia Child has to work for years to find a publisher--and keep in mind those were the days of just mail. *shudders*  But Julie?  Julie gets a two column article in the New York TImes food section and the very next day starts getting phone calls from editors. Publishers. Agents. Television producers. Movie studios. On and on and on until I am ready to hurl my laptop across the room.  Damnit! Where are my phone calls?

It just makes me want to scream. My stories are creative, damnit. They're well-crafted. People enjoy reading them. Why, then, is it so damned hard to get an agent?  Granted, my stories are more complicated than Julie and Julia--

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech.  Hold it right there.

Could it be that easy to see? Really? Could the difference be that simple and clever is easier to sell than complicated and brilliant?

Think about it: look at some of the more recent great stories.  A boy wizard is the destined foe of ultimate evil. An expert on symbology is called in to decipher religious mysteries. A blogger goes through the recipes of Julia Child.

Simple premises all.  Clever too.  Those simple premises turn into great stories by virtue of two things: they entertain the reader and they allow the reader to imagine themselves easily in that situation.  Even Dan Brown's Robert Langdon explains his rather pedantic subject matter with a verve and a fire that brings the reader along with him in his enthusiasm.  JK Rowling's Harry Potter is the epitome of adolescent angst, and brings all that uncertainty along with him--something completely natural and familiar to the teen reader (and quite a few adults) renders an extraordinary situation into something they can accept.  Simple. Clever. Layered with the express purpose (whether intentional or accidental) of permitting the reader to put themselves in the shoes of the main characters.

Brilliant.

So although the day of 65 phone calls is probably never going to happen, that doesn't mean the day of 1 phone call--the phone call--won't as long as I remember on cardinal rule of writing.

I'm not writing for me. I'm writing for you.

My job is to make you feel that the extraordinary is possible, that the ordinary is special, that you are on the same ride the characters are on. 

Simple.

Clever.

Intimate--and that intimacy is the final factor, the one thing that makes some writers beloved while others languish in the cold sterility of critical acclaim. Regardless of how much writers bitch about the perceived flaws of those who've hit the heights of success, there's something about Harry Potter and Robert Langdon and--yes, both Julie and Julia--that strikes a responsive chord within us.

A chord that has not one damn thing to do with a split infinitive or a dangling participle.

Something to think about.

And, of course, if any agent (legitimate agents only, thank you!) or editor or huge NYC publishing house sees this blog post and wants to call me--well, you know my number.  I've figured out the secret!  I'm ready to roll!

I don't need 65 phone calls, though. I need one. And eventually, I"ll get it too.

Damnit.

One. Just one.  See? I'm not greedy.  I think I'll make beef bourbignon for dinner tonight, too.

A Month in The Life--April 10-11, 2010

These two days do not exist--mostly because I, in my wisdom, managed to eradicate both my internet and my cable simply by moving the modem and cable box from one table to another.

Accomplishments on Sunday: Word count--15,823. Other notable acheivements: Uno game wins 6-0. LOTR Trival Pursuit 1-1.  Monopoly 2-0. Cat insulin shots--2. Caloric intake--less than 1,000. Cigarettes smoked. A pack and a half.

Yeah. That's what happens to me when my internet goes away--big word counts, but I can't eat and I go from a pack a week smoker to a pack a day.  Good lord.

A Month In The Life--April 9, 2010

Ah...day two of the rest of my life.

Surprisingly, Impy dealt with his shots very well. As long as I give it to him while he's eating canned food he's as happy as a fly on dung.  Already, he's started to improve.  I'm very happy.

We got back to the house from the vet's at around nine, and the DH went to school while Impy and I settled in for a long morning of editing.  After getting six chapters done, I sat down with the Defying The Covenants mauscript and spent a couple of hours doing a quick edit--I call them cleaning edits. That's where I find the ewes on the dressers (instead of ewers) and the majority of the adverbs--gosh dang them all anyway.  Then I cranked out a good 12k of new words.  Not a bad chunk of change when you get down to it.

And then--lo and behold!--the furniture men showed up.  They discovered that the legs were right where I said they'be be--underneath the bottom of the hutch, strapped in along with all the hardware.  So, they spent an hour putting that together and at last, I have my hutch. Mirabile visu. Finally, I was able to unpack the last of the totes with my Haviland, crystal and silver in it and we look very fine indeed now. That was another couple of hours.

And then I remembered what the term "bed rest" means.  It means rest...in bed--or the couch. That still counts.  I also realized why it's probably a damn good idea to listen when you're told not to do anything.

*sigh*

Another three chapters edited before midnight, a few spirited games of Scrabble Upwords, Uno and Monopoly and then to bed. I still managed to hit my word count, got more edited than I thought I would and actually accomplished quite a bit.  All said and done, it was a productive day.

But ooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwww.  I should know better.

A Month In The Life--April 8, 2010

Ever have one of those days where you know that everything is about to change?

Welcome to April 8th.

First, I woke up at 4:00 am this morning and got three chapters edited for an Aurora manuscript before I could go back to sleep.  That's always a good thing--getting unaccounted work done in the wee hours of the dawn. By the time I got the chapters edited, my meds kicked in (because--yeah, pain woke me up) and I got a few more hours of sleep. Fortunately, that extra work came at an appropriate time.  Impy, my first cat and the patriarch of our feline clan had a vet appointment this morning and my new hutch was being delivered this afternoon. 

So we get Impy ready for his appointment.  Impy is nine years old and a Maine Coon.  A few years ago, he weighed over twenty pounds and everyone called him "Pimpy" because he was the most awesomely friendly cat in the world.  A true gentle giant, he endured years of kitten attacks and several moves--even surviving the indignity of being neutered twice.  (Long story) At any rate, over the past few months he started to lose weight. At first it wasn't that noticable, because he's a long haired Maine Coon.  But in the past few weeks not only was he lethargic and constantly ravenous, but the weight loss became apparent.  So we made him an appointment and took him in today.  Impy was so good; he dealt with the blood work and the urinalysis without making a sound.  When they cleaned his ears, however, he howled so loudly it set every critter in the animal hospital howling along in pity.  The vet told us she'd call when she got the blood work back, so we took him home.

I got about a chapter edited before the furnitire guys showed up. Here they come with my new hutch--a beautiful polished oak mission style hutch with a wine rack, two glassed in display cabinets, drawers and two side cabinets and the perfect display place for the family silver.  When the furniture delivery guys unpacked it, I was just trying to stay out of the way.  But then they announced they were done and I walked into the room and nearly died.

It didn't look ANYTHING like the hutch I ordered. 

So I was trying to explain to them that it wasn't right, but my husband (the omniscient one about furniture apparently) was agreeing with them and not listening to me. "No, it's supposed to be that short." "No, the top's not supposed to be finished." "No, they didn't forget the door handles and knobs--hey, where are teh handles and knobs."

So, ignoring me all the way,  the furniture guys pocketed their pay and headed out the door.  That was when I found the OTHER piece of wood in the hallway.  I literally chased them down the street and made them get their asses back inside at which point I said (after telling the husband to keep quiet) that not only did my hutch NOT have knobs and handles, but that the extra piece of wood was the shelf that went in between the legs--SO WHERE IN THE HELL ARE THE DAMN LEGS, GENTLEMEN?

After a panicked phone call to their boss, I was informed that the man who'd "inspected" the furniture at the store wasn't in and he would call me in the morning.

While I was fuming, I walked by my oh-so-not-completed hutch and caught sight of my reflection and THAT spurred a new desire in me.  I may be on bedrest. I may be restricted from lifting weights or standing on my feet for long periods of time. No one has ever said a damn thing about pilates, though.  I pulled out my schedule and added two blocks (one hour gone from my morning routine and a half-hour session during my family time) for my exercise/physical therapy routine.  I will be fat at this RT; I will not be at the next one. 

After this rush of determination and the subsequent disposal of everything I like to eat in the kitchen, the phone rang. It was the vet, calling to tell us that Impy--my beloved, darling Impy--is a diabetic with a glucose level four times the normal range for a cat.  I was horrified.  Tomorrow we have to take him in to get his first insulin shot, poor baby, and learn how to give him those shots ourselves. So I decided to do a little research  on feline diabetes and discovered that I have been killing my cats. No lie--cats are carnivores, right? They don't have the same omnivorous abiliry to process carbohydrates.  But dry cat food is almost entirely vegetable producst with meat by products, baked at a high heat that removes all moisture from the food and then they spray it with a meat-flavored spray to basically addict the cats to it.  The high carb, low protein diet leads to heart disease, urinary tract problems, diabetes and various other ailments in cats.  So we looked up what best to feed our cats (Special Kitty and Nine Lives canned cat food, fround not sliced--the highest proteins and lowest carbs)--5-6 oz per ten pounds of cat 2-3 times a day. Evidently, just by switching cats to this type of diet can immediately put some cases of feline diabetes into remission.

So we rounded up all the dry food and put it away, went to the store and loaded up on high-protein cat foods and now have a bunch of happy kitties and two who are staring at me mournfully because they never ate canned food anyway. They don't like it. And for the first time in a week, Impy looks brighter and happier and is sleeping quite contentedly beside me, purring.

So finally, I found some time to spend writing.  Only three hours, but a productive 10k. I watched Survivor (doing my pilates), fed the cats their nighttime snacks (smuggling vitamins into their bowls), edited three more chapters and now I'm done early enough to watch Project Runway.

So yeah--a day that has changed everything.  Tomorrow will be a busy day. I have to make up the momentum I lost the past few days.  I'm cracking my knuckles; better watch out.

A Month in the Life--April 6,2010

Ah, my life is never dull.

(Yes I know. I missed a day. Keep reading and you'll figure out why.  It's not hard--Monday, I couldn't type.)

At any rate, after an early morning trip to my doctor, an awful, harrowing, long needle-filled hour, I received the news I least wanted to hear.

Bedrest. Ten days. Again.

*sigh*

And, since my shoulder hurts so badly it's hard to type, that means no extensive writing. (I'm cheating with this post, but I'm typing one-handed.  It takes forever) So my initial hopes of having Terella in presentable shape by the RT convention are now endangered.  I did get a huge cortisone shot today, so maybe it'll start working quickly and I can get back to it.  It better, anyway--anytime a needle that damn big goes into my shoulder which is already hurting, I'd better see quick results.

At any rate--between the doctor and the subsequent trip to the Walmart pharmacy and the obligatory waiting forever for new prescriptions to be filled, I lost my entire morning.  I set up camp on the couch in the living room, and with two new books I'd bought for pleasure reading (which I have sorely missed), a couple of cats (they switched out every hour or so) and a big glass of ice water (craving it like a mother) I settled down for an afternoon of absolute brain and body rest while brainless shows on television made a soothing and yet uninteresting noise in the house.

This lasted for an hour.

Then I cracked and opened the laptop.

I spent a couple of hours answering emails, working on proposals, talking to one of my writers (Lizzie T. Leaf--she's a dear lady and we had a lovely and productive conversation), and making one of my infamous lists--something I could type a little at a time.

By four, the roast I'd put in the crockpot was starting to smell fabulous.  I went back to one of the new books and finished it. By the by, it takes me a little over two hours to read your standard romance novel of 350 pages. I picked up a couple of historical romances by popular writers to see what the market was looking like. And then at six, I gave up just a little bit more and started to edit. I figured it wasn't really cheating; after all, most of what I do as an editor is backspace over offending sections and leave little comments, right?

At eleven, when the pain in my shoulder was bad enough that I was ready to cry, I realized I'd been editing for five hours straight.  I took my meds, turned on an old movie (Dragonwyck with Gene Tierney and Vincent Price and Walter Huston) and finally went to sleep a little after twelve thirty.

But what a depressing day--no word count total, only about forty pages edited and nothing really to get excited about as far as productivity.

But what the hey--I got two new books, my friend Gini Koch's new novel was released by DAW (Touched by an Alien--go get a copy now!) and I had roast beef for dinner.  No great loss without some small gains, I guess.

Congratulations, Gini!

A Month in The Life--April 4, 2010 Easter

I slept in.

I figured it was only fair.  I slept all the way until 10:30 and I loved every minute of it.

Waking up was not as pleasant.  Still very stiff and sore, and the flare up of bursitis made it almost impossible to type.  Realizing the writing was pretty much out of the question, I kind of wrote off the rest of the day.

I decided I wasn't going to work at all.

So, I had a meeting with Lori--who's helping me put together the workshop about taglines and blurbs for AMP.  We had a productive conversation and determined that I would cover the part of the workshop about why a great blurb and tagline was so important and she would cover the important question of how to write great ones.  We're getting back together in a week to put it all together.

Then I spent some time fielding questions about review requests.  After another couple of hours, I finally put the computer aside and settled down on the couch.  My shoulder was killing me.  I took out my journal and planned out my work for the week--which is usually how I spend Sunday afternoons. By the time that was done, I was bored.  So, the decision not to work was reversed and I started to writer around six o'clock. By nine, I had a respectable 7,923 words and put my work away.  The DH and I watch Undercover Boss together on Sunday nights, so the rest of the night was family time.

Happy Easter? Ours was fabulous. We turned off our phones and stayed out of everyone's way.  Not so great of a work day, perhaps, but it was a holiday. I'll make up for it in the morning.

Sample "A Day In The Life"

I thought I'd post this for reference, just so you have an idea of my daily schedule.  Keep in mind this is subject to change, depending upon circumstances or deadlines.  Saturday is my "light" day, where I try to keep my hours to eight.  My busiest days tend to be Mondays and Thursdays.  On a holiday, like today, I don't schedule blocks of time as I usually do; it'd be a waste of time considering the obligations we usually have on holidays.  Okay, you ready?

5:00 am--Rise and shine. It takes an hour for me to physically get out of bed between medications and exercise.  So this is the hour I eat breakfast, watch the news on television, do my stretching exercises and spend a little time with the husband before he leaves for the day.  This is also the cats' favorite hour--they get their canned cat food at this time--mostly to keep them out of my hair for the morning, when I do my best work.

6:00-7:30--Basic maintenance. This is when I straighten up the house, usually picking up every room and concentrating on one room to clean in depth. If I don't do this, my house turns into a wreck very quickly. This includes the cat boxes (all eight of them), the morning shower, checking email and setting the schedule for the rest of the day.

7:30--11:00 The first writing block of the day.  This is the block I reserve for whichever story is driving me hardest at the time--the story that just has to be told NOW or the story on deadline. I never, never, never give up this block. I don't answer the phone, I don't text message, I don't turn on the television. This writing block is sacred, and I usually manage to maintain a 2k-plus wph rate.

11-1:00 This is usually split between editing and online work. I edit quickly, faster than I write. I can edit about 40 pages in an hour if the corrections are minimal, 30 pages per hour if they're a bit more extreme. I have been able to edit a complete novella in this block if I'm concentrating and not backsliding into message boards too often.

1-2:00 The break hour. Allegedly.  Usually this falls by the wayside. It'd be nice to have a break, but eight of ten times I forget all about it.

2--5:00 The second writing block of the day. If I'm working through a revision on a project, this is usually when I do it.  Sometimes, if an editing project is nearing the deadline, I don't write during this period but edit.

5-8:00 Business work. This is when I either do projects for the publishing house, work on submissions and correspondence, read the submissions in the Aurora mailbox. I tend to write a lot of rejections in this period.

8-10:00 pm. Family time. The DH usually comes home around this time. We have our supper, call the kids or the parents, play with the cats and watch television. Again, supposedly.  Sometimes he comes home, we grunt at each other and both go back to work.

10:00 - @2:00 a.m.--Yeah, you're seeing that correctly.  This is the final work block of the day. If I'm tired or not feeling well, it's the one that gets chucked.  More often than not, though, I'm back at work at this point. He goes to bed; I go to work. The house is quiet and I'm not distracted.  Some very high word counts come from this block. This is usually also when I do my personal edits for my publisher.When I finally do go to bed, I don't forget to set the alarm. I get up at the same time every day without fail.

At the moment, I have five works in progress I am actively writing.  I have another three in rewrites. I have two manuscripts in edits with the publisher. I write anywhere from 10k to 25k per day on various projects. A day doesn't go by when I don't write at least 4k--otherwise known as sixteen-eighteen pages.  This is my routine, and what I'll be tracking during A Month In The Life.