Paradise Ills

I know what you are all saying…’What the heck is she talking about?’ Well, things have been going very good for me overall recently. Writings great, family the same. But I should have known the shoe would drop, the crock would break or whatever you all say when things suddenly take a strange turn.

I haven’t been sick in 17 years since I was pregnant with the youngest…not really sick…yeah, I’ve had aches and pains. I’ve had some small bouts with a slight case of the flu, migraines and other what I consider minor ailments. Sometimes I’ve stayed in bed or did nothing as a precaution because rest works wonders for a body and soul. And anyone who has had a migraine understands, functioning just isn’t possible when your head hurts so much you can’t see. But the on the whole, nothing too bad, nothing I couldn't handle. And never do I get something which causes me to vomit. Pregnancy was the only thing which cause that problem. I’d rather die than do that!

Now, with my family it’s been a whole different scenario. My husband gets stomach issues all the time and my youngest seems to pick up everything since he was in 6th grade and got pneumonia twice in one year. And since the youngest has been diabetic, he has been ill once every couple of weeks with something.

This last time, he dehydrated himself with soccer practice and then got the stomach cramps which go along with it. Or so we thought. Since he’s diabetic, we take him to the ER only to find that he has a horrible case of gastroenteritis which is apparently going around.

No, biggie, we can handle this. We make sure with his endocrinologist about what the ER prescribed and a host of other things as well as keeping him hydrated after the IVs. Never once did I think I was on the same road. I figured I was just Mom who could handle it yet again.

That was early AM Saturday and as I sit here Wednesday writing my blog, I wonder what ever made me think I was invincible. For the first time ever, I had to ask the DH to stay at home to take care of both of us. And the only thing that prevented me from going to the hospital was the fact I kept drinking even though the first day it came right back up.

Needless to say, I’m finally on the upswing even though my out bed time is only up to about an hour and a half before I am exhausted. MOF, as soon as I get done writing this, I’m off to bed again.

We think of ourselves that way in writing sometimes. We think we can do it all, be it all. No one person can be everything to everyone. Most authors’ rise to the top is a slow hard fought battle with many obstacles in the way. Some of those obstacles can be that we’re just plain sick of writing. It happens sometimes and its then that one needs to pull back and regroup.

Everyone needs to have a writing plan, something that they can refer back to when the going gets tough. Sometimes all it takes is to look at your plan, sometimes it takes writing in a different genre, taking a small vacation or even doing more volunteer work for your local writers group. Just something that will skid you along the plateau to where you’re going upward again.

In these tough economic times, I feel people giving up on dreams and whatever makes them happy because they aren’t making money or aren’t doing something they feel they should. It’s here that I’d like to steal a quote from the movie Galaxy Quest, ‘Never give up, never surrender.’ One must always look to their dreams and their inner self to draw strength.

Life is what it is. It’s not going to change or get better unless you want it to. Remember it’s all in your hands.

Again, I can see you wondering what this had to do with me being sick. I had a plan in place no matter what happened to me. I had someone to cover me at work, I had my DH answer my emails and delegate to others what I couldn’t get done, and I did what I’m supposed to be doing. Got better. Not 100% yet, but better.

And the whole time, my little brain is working on how I can get this into a story, or how I can convince folks that a good plan, no matter what the problem, is always great to have.

Happy writing! Until next week…

Lynn

My Big Day

Today is the big day! Runaway Man is my first solo release and I am VERY excited. It is also my first m/m. If you have never read m/m, but thought you might give it a try, here is your chance. Runaway Man is rated as a sweet romance and here is what reviewers are saying:

This book has love, lust, forgiveness, unexpected twists and annoying family members. -Tami
For the full review click the link:
http://yougottareadreviews.blogspot.com/2009/01/review-runaway-man-by-jambrea-jo-jones.html

Running Man is a sweet romance that had me reaching for the tissues. Butch and Mitch are two very strong characters that I would love to see more of. -Deb
For the full review click the link:
http://debsbook.wordpress.com/2009/01/20/runaway-man-by-jambrea-jo-jones/

Here is the blurb and a small excerpt.

http://www.freyasbower.com/index.php?main_page=popup_image&pID=184

Blurb: Dismayed when the full moon reveals his lover’s secret, Butch runs instead of facing his fears. Fate crashes into his life when a train ride goes horribly wrong. Now Butch must face the truth--or will tragedy intervene yet again, separating the lovers forever?

Excerpt:
Lost in thought, Butch settled in his seat on the train, shook his head, and glanced around at the others occupying his space. His gaze landed on an attractive man who sat a few seats up. It couldn’t be who he thought it was, but something tickled his thoughts and brought back memories. He continued to stare at the handsome man and gasped as the stranger looked up. Butch became absorbed in the man’s dark brown eyes; a spark of recognition flared, but it was jolted away by a loud screeching noise. As darkness descended, he thought, it’s Mitch.
Butch tried to blink away the fuzz.
What happened? Where…oh, my God. The train...oh no, Mitch.
His vision wouldn’t cooperate, so he closed his eyes to focus his other senses. He took a deep breath and then gasped in shock at a sharp pain in his side. His hand hovered over the area. He explored the wound and felt something wet and sticky. He didn’t apply much pressure for fear he would make the injury worse.
“Baby, please don’t move.”
A small kiss fluttered on his forehead.
“Mitch? Is that you?” His injury forgotten for the moment, he waited for an answer.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here. Just don’t move. You can’t—” Mitch choked on his words.
“What is it, Mitch? What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to panic, but he heard the fear in Mitch’s voice.
A hand rested on Butch’s forehead, and he stopped questioning. He remembered those hands; he’d dreamt of them—missed them. Now they stroked his hair away from his face in an attempt to calm him.
Why did I run?
“I don’t know much. The train crashed into something, and then the conductor came over the PA and made an announcement to ask us to sit tight until the rescue crews get here.”
“Mitch, I have to sit up. Would you help me? I don’t want to lie here and...why can’t I feel my legs?” Panic laced his voice. “And what’s that noise?”
Butch struggled to sit up, only to have Mitch hold him down.
“Butch, stop moving. I said stop, damn it! Listen to me.” Mitch paused. Butch heard the catch in his voice again.
Things must be worse than I realized.

This title is very affordable at only $1.49!

Buy Link: Live on Feb. 3rd.

Hello Stephani Hecht!

This week we take a look at Stephani Hecht. I asked her some quirky questions and got plenty of interesting answers!
Welcome Stephani!
Stephani Hecht writes for the following publisher(s): eXtasy Books
Stephani’s favorite color is blue. Her favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip. When asked if she’s a cat, dog or both kind of person and if she’d ever own(ed) a snake or some other exotic pet her answers were ~ “Oh, I love both my babies. And as for the exotic pets, uhm…we’ve owned a couple of rats. Honestly they are the best rodents to own. They are really lovable and don’t bite like hamsters. We also had an iguana named, Stars. My son named him that because he was green like the Dallas Stars hockey team.” Concerning her preference for warm weather or cold she states, “I love a soft spring rain. It’s as if the Goddess is cleaning off everything for us.” As for where she’d live if she could live anywhere in the universe, “I love Michigan. Sure we have winters from hell, but I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. I love having all four seasons, the Red Wings, and the Great Lakes.” In regard to what time of day she prefers, Stephani states “Night owl without a doubt. I do most of my writing between 10 PM to 2 AM.” Her favorite day of the week: “Sunday. There’s no work, dance lessons or ski meets so we have the whole day to be lazy.” Her favorite number is “Twenty-one. It’s the number of my favorite Detroit Red Wing, Chris Chelios.” When asked if athletic shoes are sneakers or tennies and if a soft drink is called soda or pop, she responded: Tennis shoes & Pop. Although I sometimes call it soda to annoy my son.
Here’s a scenario posed to the author: “You’re at a conference and an agent comes up to you and says, “I’ve seen your name on the web. I’m interested in taking you on as a client. You have a couple of minutes to wow me to convince me that I should.” You can only plug one book in this short amount of time. What book would you plug to land this contract and why?” Stephani’s response: I could just try, “My books have angels who cuss and hump.” I don’t know it that would work though.
Seriously though:
Angelic by name, but not angelic by nature, the warriors have an immortal lifetime’s worth of baggage to carry. Angel Warriors is the first book in a series featuring angels in a whole different light. It was released by eXtasy Books in the first part of 2008 and we are getting ready to release book number six. Readers are always looking for a new twist in the paranormal genre and I think portraying angels with very human like needs and desires fulfills that.
Thank you for the information Stephani!
~ Feel free to share if you have something in common with her ~

Sunday, Sunday

Well another month has come and gone. This started me thinking about what I wanted to write. It was a toss-up of the fun (said with tongue in cheek) of foreclosed house hunting I had with my daughter and soon to be son-in-law last week or should I go more prophetic. Prophetic being put myself out on a limb; tell you all my hopes and dreams for this year in regards to forwarding my writing career.

What’s that you say, talk about the goals? Ok, you win. That’s what I’ll write for this week. Some of you know me very well; others are still getting to know me. My interview will post in a few weeks on The Many Shades so you can know even more. (Could be scary!)

I have been a writer all my life. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have a pen, pencil or keyboard in my hand. My first sale in 1995 was to a children’s magazine for a craft project creating Potato Jewelry. After that came fiction and nonfiction magazine length sales. Then I started writing books. To date I have published 5 romance novels with 3 publishers. But along the way, I also found myself time after time raising my hand to volunteer for my local RWA chapter, the Greater Detroit RWA. Now I’m not saying that’s a bad thing by any stretch. GDRWA has afforded me many opportunities I could never have come up with on my own. For the last 11 out of 14 years I have served in one capacity or another on the board of my local RWA Chapter.

While am I telling you all this? Because last year I was seated at dinner next to an agent we had flown in to speak to our chapter and the subject of how much I did for the chapter came up, along with the amount of time I spent. She said “Oh, you’re a career volunteer.” Now to her credit she didn’t mean it in a bad way. It was just her way of saying what I subconsciously already knew. I would do anything for my chapter. Always have, always will. But it got me thinking and her words have never left my mind. I don’t want to be known as a ‘career volunteer’. I want to be known as a writer. Preferably a best selling author if truth be told.

The more I have thought about that over the past months, the more it has gotten under my skin. This year is my last year on the local board. Other than the fact that a volunteer can’t serve more than a 2 year term with 1 year odd between terms, it’s time for me to vacate the seat and get on with my writing career.

Now that being said, I sold those 5 novels while on the GDRWA board. I wrote and also sold 2 of those novels while going through cancer and chemo. I am productive. Just not enough. Right now too many other things tug at me, pulling me in different directions. Directions that eat away at the time I have available to write.

Smack me now if I am sounding like a petulant child. But I’m ready for some ME, ME, ME writing time. You all know we can’t get there without it. So in the past few weeks, I have made some new goals for myself. I have joined a critique group with two fabulous women. They are both skilled authors in their own rights. I’ve scaled back on other activities in order to bring my writing to the forefront, and I have AJ Llewellyn to thank for providing me with the opportunity to have an appointment with a Life Coach for this coming Monday. I have my list of things ready to talk about with her and the areas I want to focus on to make myself more productive in my quest.

In one of my President’s Column for the Greater Detroit RWA chapter, I stated my goal is to be New York published by September of 2009. That’s a lofty goal on my part, but one I plan to keep. As soon as I type ‘THE END’ on my single title work in progress, I am off on an agent search. And then I will immediately start on the next book so the voices in my head will shut up. (G)

So here I am publicly airing my goals and hoping you will all remind me of them from time to time, rein me back in when I am flitting all over the place, and share with me your own goals for this year.

Till next week, Patti

The Baby Shower

My sister came up from Atlanta last week for a visit. Not only was I excited because I hadn’t seen her in over a year, but it was going to be the first time I got to hold my nephew. Once I finally pried my sister’s, very overprotective, fingers off the baby, I was able to cradle my nephew. A cute bundle of rolls and smiles, I could have kept him forever. As I smelled in that sweet baby smell I was brought back to the days when my kids were so small and adorable. How I missed those days. Then later that night, as the baby woke screaming, was brought back to the days when my kids would keep me awake for days on end. How I don’t miss those days.

One of the highlights of her visit was the baby shower. As my mom and I scurried around in preparation for the great event, my husband, son, father and brother-in-law all ran around with a look of fear on their face as they plotted their escape plan. Why is it the mere word of “baby shower” sends all men I running for the hills?

Is it the cute cake that scared them away? All of the baby themed games? Maybe it was the little rubber duckies we had floating in the punch bowl. I don’t know for sure what it was. All I do know was it was so horrifying my son wouldn’t even come down for a plate and food and that’s saying a lot since he is a teenage boy who never turns down a meal.

Okay, maybe every woman there did squeal when the baby was brought out. And perhaps we did look a bit dorky because we all had baby pictures pinned to our shirts for one of the games. Even I cringed a bit when the whole room ooh and awed over the onseies, stuffed animals and blankets she unwrapped. Still we weren’t that scary were we?

Well maybe my mom was. She ran that shower like a drill sergeant, barking out orders and expecting her demands to be met. At first I snapped to it and obeyed, but after a while I retreated to the kitchen to hide out. That was where she found me and approached with one of the baby pictures in her hand.

“You need to put this on.”

“Why do I have to?” I whined like I was a kid again. “I’m helping to throw the shower so I wouldn’t be right if I won.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s not one of the winners.” She held it out. “Now stop being a baby and put on the baby.” She laughed like a loon at her own joke.

“Next time we go shopping you’re buying me a Mocha latté,” I grumbled as I clipped the picture on. It poked my cheek. “You owe me, woman.”

“Have fun, relax, this is a party,” Mom advised right before she launched into another long list of tasks for me.

By the time she was on item number fifty, I was looking longingly up the stairs to the room where the men had hidden out in. Unfortunately, she caught me.

“Don’t even think about it. You make a dash for it, I’ll tackle you down on the stairs and drag you back by your ankles.”

I glared at her, aghast. Surely not even she would go that far. She gave me an impish grin and stuck her tongue out at me. The grandmother of my children actually stuck her tongue out at me. Yeah, I decided she would go that far and then some.

“You are way too old to be sticking your tongue out,” I told her.

She stuck it out again before she left the kitchen. I decided that I would strap on my big girl panties and do this for my sister and nephew. You want to know a secret? After a bit I started to even enjoy myself. Not only was our baby there, but there were three other babies and I had fun holding and cooing over all of them. The punch was really good and the cake wasn’t half bad either.

By far though the best part of the shower was when I went into the bedroom while my nephew was changed. I was away from the group and I got to take my time, playing and cuddling with him. He smiled at me and that was it—I was in love.

“I guess you were worth it, big guy.” I leaned forward and kissed his soft cheek. “But when you get old enough you owe me a Mocha latté too.”

-Stephani