Personal Glimpses

 Although many writers know they want to be a writer from an early age, was there something in particular that made you decide to pursue your dream? 

The defining year for me was the year my youngest daughter went to first grade.  I had been at home raising four children spread out over several years and felt the void of sending the youngest to school all day.  Until then I’d been playing at writing, keeping handwritten notebooks and dallying with the stories like a hobby.  Then and there I decided that I was going to actually do what I’d always dreamed of doing and write an entire book.  I started it in October and finished it during that school year.  I had the time of my life.  I had no idea what I was doing, so it had no plot or conflict and the villain was wishy washy, but the characters were fun and I enjoyed creating a romance.  I even submitted the manuscript to every publisher and agent I could find.  Only years later did I understand how embarrassing that was.  I did everything you’re not supposed to do.  Who knew the time period was unmarketable?  Who knew you weren’t supposed to bind your submission in a pretty folder?  The story is as yet unpublished, though some day I’d like to rework it.  

How long after you first started submitting did it take for you to have your first book accepted? A lo-o-o-ong time.  As I said, I started submitting before I was ready, before I’d discovered a writing group or Dwight Swain.  I was writing for about four years before I found a local writers group.  I was fortunate.  I generous lady and talented Avon author named Diane Wicker Davis started my local chapter.  She read my stuff and showed me how to make the stories better and the writing stronger.  I lucked into a critique group with another published author, Barbara Andrews (who now writes with her daughter as Pam Rock) and she and the group encouraged me.   Once I learned the techniques to write to sell, it took about another three years.  

What attracts you to your time period? 

For me the appeal of Americana and westerns is the simplicity of the time and the durability of the men and women.  Life was difficult.  People were determined and resilient.  I watched westerns from the time I was a kid and learned to appreciate the charm and strength of a cowboy.  The ever-present themes of good verses evil are the foundations of those universally appealing types of stories.  Who doesn’t love to root for an underdog?  Who doesn’t want to see the bad guy get his comeuppance? The rancher/farmer’s sweat and blood are imbedded in his land–as deeply as the riverbeds and the roots of the ancient trees. It may have been his father’s before him, or he could have broken his back to earn it. In any case he will die to keep it. Solidarity. And any man who would pour this much passion into his land, will love his woman even more ardently.

To nearly all women I’ve spoken to on the subject of cowboys, physical appearance plays a major part in the attraction. The reality was that dungarees or Levis were not exactly ‘slim cut’ or sexy; they were stiff and probably dirty, and few real cowboys fit the image of the Marlboro man, but our fantasy cowboy has a lean backside in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, long legs, and that ever-present Stetson pulled low over his eyes. Ever notice how a pair of chaps invariably draws the eyes to the uncovered sections of denim? Our man wears his Colt strapped to his thigh, the holster rides his lean hips, his spurs jangle–this dangerous guy exudes sex appeal. The western hero is a hard body due to demanding work on the range, riding and roping, chasing outlaws, stopping the runaway stage, and sleeping on the ground.  He’s untamed, a little wild, and a lot sexy. He doesn’t need a gym membership or a treadmill.

What does your writing cave look like? 

Messy.  Papers everywhere.  Books all over.  I’m known far and wide as a collector and my office reflects that particular gene as much as any room in my house.  In my office  have a curio full of old and new dolls: Barbies, My Scene, Ginnys, Disneys, Madame Alexanders, and any others I can’t resist. There are framed writing awards on the few visible walls—most of the wall space is taken up by bookcases.  The color of the walls is called Strawberry Pot, it’s a soothing and inspiring teal, my favorite color.   I have a comfy rocking chair piled with pillows, a TV on an upper shelf, a counter full of office machines like copiers and printers and two computers. 

My book covers are thumb tacked to the bulletin boards that back my desk area on three walls, along with pics that readers have sent.  I have half a dozen oil lamps, a row of Angel Cheeks, framed photographs of the cutest kids ever, a jeweled tiara and paperweights.  A vintage globe that belonged to my grandmothers sits atop one of my cabinets.  There are many things I love about my space, and one of them is that it’s sound proof.  You can actually hear the difference when you come into the room—the effect created by four walls of books.   

When you are not writing what do you do? 

Probably not sleeping,  LOL  My husband and I like to garden together, so many of our weekends are spent creating arbors and gardens and soon ponds.  We love to shop flea markets and browse antique malls.  More often than not you could find me selecting paint, then watching him roll it on or arranging a spot in the house just so.  I like to make interesting displays of vintage collections and have so many I have to change them out to enjoy them.  I’m a movie junkie, so late night I watch movies (and take plotting notes—it makes me feel like I’m working).   

When I was growing up, outside of Christmas, the other holiday I could hardly wait for was Halloween. It meant candy, sacks of it. Since I have the biggest sweet tooth known to man, trick-or-treating meant fun, foolish abandon, and sugary treats. I didn’t care what kind of candy it was, I liked it all. My younger sister and I would run wild, racing from house to house like a pair of hyped-up hyenas. I’m just glad that we grew up in an innocent time when no one had to worry much about child abductions or candy poisonings. Kids sure can’t be that carefree today.

As Halloween approached this year I was curious about the early beginnings of it and did some research.  The name originated from All Hallows Eve that the Celts celebrated on October 31^st to mark their new year. The Irish Celts believed spirits wandered the earth looking for bodies to possess on that night. Lacking knowledge of science or the rotation of the earth and different seasons, Celtic Culture sought a reason for the shorter, colder days and longer nights. They mistakenly thought the sun was losing its power and the dead were to blame. To prevent the spirits from stealing their bodies on Hallows Eve, they extinguished every fire in their homes, made themselves physically undesirable by making their faces grotesque, and wore all manner of strange clothing. The Celts believed that magical powers were at their strongest on October 31^st. 

When European immigrants came to America, they brought their customs and beliefs with them. Children gathered and played games. Bobbing for apples was played most frequently. 

Other games were played, including one called “Clap-in, Clap-out.” The young men left the room, while the young girls each declared who they’d chosen for a partner. Then as the young men entered, he had to sit beside the girl he thought had chosen him. The girl clapped if he sat in the wrong seat. Then he had to go back out and wait for another chance to try again. The game lasted until every girl had a partner.  Another game, played in Ireland was a form of Blindfold. A blindfolded player was seated in front of a table on which sat several saucers. The saucers were shuffled and the player chose one. The contents of the saucer determined the player’s life for the following year. The saucer containing earth meant someone known to the person would die during the coming months. Water foretold travel. A coin meant new wealth. A bean meant poverty. And so on. In 19^th century Ireland, young women placed slugs in saucers and sprinkled flour over them. They believed the patterns left behind after the slug wriggled in it would reveal the face of their future husband. Boy, they must’ve been desperate! But, I should talk. I used to play with a Ouija board quite a bit, trying to find out who I was going to marry. Strange what we do to try to see into the future. I’m also thinking some of this might be useful in a story sometime.

 A traditional food eaten in Ireland on All Hallows Eve was called barnbrack. It was a type of fruitcake that had a muslin-wrapped treat baked inside. The person who got the piece holding the treat learned his future for the coming year. Some of treats were a ring (meant a marriage,) a coin (prosperity,) a thimble (will be an old maid,) and a button spoke of forlorn sweethearts. 

Over the years, Halloween has evolved into what we have today with many religions speaking out against the practice. Regardless, most kids still try to get as much candy as possible, no matter if it’s at Halloween parties or trick-or-treating. It’s their night to howl.  Whatever your beliefs, you can still use this time to take stock, count your blessings, and prepare for the short winter nights. I love fall. The gorgeous color of the trees, the crisp night air, beautiful pumpkins, and luscious apples. Oh, and of course, the candy! I’m holding out my bag. 

What do you associate with Halloween? Or maybe you have a favorite memory or tradition you’d like to share.

Good Morning Everyone!

This morning I’d thought I’d share some pictures and insights on those wonderful animals who share our lives.  And of course, I would like to hear about your animals.  How many you have, what kind — does anyone have an unusual pet?  Like a skunk or something like that?  By the way, I’ve heard that they make great pets.

 Let’s start with Princess Sierra.  This was a recent picture taken earlier this year — in June — notice that there is a tiarra hanging over her head.  We did not touch up the picture or put it there and in all the pictures that we took of her, there is is, right there.  At first I didn’t know what it was, but when I showed it to my brother-in-law, he of course, said — it’s a tiarra, of course.  Princess Sierra is not only a calico, she was originally my daughter’s cat, who grew to love going outside so much that my daughter had to leave her with us — because my daughter can have only indoor pets.  She is, indeed, a princess and we appropriately treat her as such.  Sierra was also one of my characters in a back book, THE PRINCESS AND THE WOLF.

This is Sammy, our black and white kitty.  Sammy got bit about 6-7 years ago and developed feline aids and so he is our kitty who tends to be a little sick.  Though he no longer has feline aids, he does have a condition of the mouth called stomititis that we are finding just doesn’t seem to go away.  However, he is doing well and has become one of our most wonderful house cats.

And here we have Kali, whom I call our California bound kitty.  Originally I found her in Florida, and when I discovered that she had been abandoned by her family, I brought her home with me.  Unfortunately for both her and Sierra, it seems to be best to have only one calico per household.  To this day, they still play games (not so great games) with each other.  Maybe in another few years…

Here’s another picture of Sierra, who once accompanied my husband and I on a tour — here she is being our fearless driver.

And here’s Midnight Thunder — named after another book, NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE.  He was found by my brother-in-law while my husband and I were on tour — and he was found at night — at the time I was touring with the book, NIGHT THUNDER’S BRIDE and so we named him in honor of that book.  Midnight is quite a lady’s man — visiting the neighborhood women one by one each day.  He is one of the most popular cats in our neighborhood.  He and Kali, however, are official boyfriend and girlfriend.

We have many other pets, Puffin — our kitchen cat (she is pure white and stays in the kitchen most of the time).  Squeeky, who is my husband’s cat (she is all black) — they (my husband and Squeeky) were together when my husband and I first met each other.  And then there’s Bear, who was named because he so resembles a bear.  Bear is our only full-time outside cat.  He was my brother-in-law’s cat, who now lives with us.  Bear is also a black and white kitty, although he has long hair.

 In addition we also have three dogs, Bandit, who is 14, going on 15.  And two new pups, Prancing Wolf and Yoda — both of whom we adopted having met them on the Blackfeet reservation this past July.  We also seem to have acquired a few opossums.

So now comes the time when I would like to invite you to tell me about your pets, what they mean to you and how much they enhance your life (as I’m sure they do).

I would leave you, however, with this beautiful shot from one of our earlier trips to the Blackfeet reservation in Montana.  The horses are not ours, but rather a friend’s whose father kept and raised horses. 

Looking forward to hearing from you today.

I grew up in New Mexico on a steady diet of red beans and fried potatoes. Occasionally, we might have a roast, some fried chicken, or pork chops. Only that didn’t happen very often. Also, once in a blue moon my mama would boil some spinach or greens. You couldn’t have paid me enough to get a bite of that green slimy stuff in my mouth! Yuck. But, as I grew older and left home a funny thing happened—my tastes changed. Now I love spinach, cabbage, and cauliflower, plus a lot of other foods that I turned up my nose at when I was young. 

Taste can also be applied to fashion and those changes for me on a regular basis. I’m not that finicky about clothes and shoes and purses. I like a lot of different things—mostly everything my daughters hate. It seems we have opposite ides of what looks flattering. Go figure. 

 But, what I’m finding totally amazing is the change that’s happened in my book preference over the last ten years. I used to scan through a book when I contemplated buying it to see if the heroine was young and if there were no “distracting” children in the story. If the heroine wasn’t late teens/early twenties or the story involved children, it went back on the shelf. I wasn’t interested in reading it, no matter how well recommended. Truth was, I didn’t give the book a chance. I wanted the girl young and the story free from anything that cluttered it up, like kids. My interest was only in the relationship between the hero and heroine. 

I’m not too proud of this, but I once spurned a good story simply because the hero was short. I didn’t care that he was handsome and tough. The fact that he was short ruined the story for me. 

Somewhere along the line, and I can’t remember when or how it happened, I drifted toward older heroines and I began to love stories that involved children. I found that children added a depth to the story that it probably wouldn’t have had. And now I can’t stand stories featuring some young thing that hasn’t lived long enough to have real character. Those go back on the shelves. I want my heroine to have had experiences that shaped her into the person she is.  Doesn’t matter to me if she’s married, widowed, or a spinster as long as she’s late twenties to late forties. And I want children, the more children the better. I want a rich, full-bodied story that tugs at my heart. I want the woman to have struggled and lost something very precious so that she knows when fortune smiles on her, she reaches for it with all the strength and tenacity she has. I want the same for my hero. He’s a man who’s rugged, who’s come through the fire, and who isn’t afraid to live life to the fullest. Rarely does he care what those around him think. He’s his own man and he walks tall even though he may not have physical height. I do confess though that I still prefer him to be tall, but I’ll read the story now even if he isn’t. Another thing I’m finding is that I love to read mainstream where there’s no romance at all, which is something I wouldn’t have considered ten years ago. It was romance or nothing.

 There’s no accounting taste I guess. Not everyone’s is the same. That’s why there’s room for all sorts of stories about a multitude of subjects and people. Variety is good. That way everyone can be happy and have what they prefer.

Maybe my age has something to do with my taste. As I get older my tastes in things change? I don’t know. That’s a deep subject. Could be true though. I just wonder if I’ll suddenly develop a craving for seafood? If I do, that’ll be a miracle. I’m not about to discount it with absolute certainty. And I wonder if at some point I’ll yearn for stories with seventy and eighty year old heroes and heroines?? Ha! Can’t imagine that now but who knows. Guess I’ll have to wait and see. 

What are your tastes and do you find that they’re changing or have already changed? Or what kind of books do you really like? I’d love to hear your comments.

LEARN HOW TO FALL …

Some writers believe that after years in the word business, you don’t have to deal with rejection or disappointment.

But after twenty years and twenty-five novels in print, I’ve learned that the secret of how to succeed may be in learning how to fall. In this game more can be learned from stumbling than from success.

Early in a writer’s career we sometimes look at rejection as a failure. But the failure is in not submitting. Like a boxer, a writer needs to learn how to roll with the punches. In my blog, this weekend, I want to talk about ways to remain on course in your writing even when failure knocks you down.

If I could tell new writers just one piece of advice, it would be: “Learn to fall”. There will be times, thousands of them, when this business of writing doesn’t go your way.

You must learn to stop holding onto the safety strap and jump out into the unknown. Leap and the net will appear.

Developing a Plan for Rising after a Falling:

• Bury the corpse.

If a book is rejected over and over again, maybe there is a reason that it is not selling. Perhaps it is time to put it under the bed and start anew.

• Celebrate.

Not only the sales and contest wins, but also times you try and come up short.

• Keep learning and moving.

New fields in writing are constantly opening; be aware of new trends.

Phil Price, an accomplished playwright, once said, “I’ve often wondered why sky divers yell for joy and people who fall off cliffs scream. After all, they’re both seeing the same view. It’s only the last foot that changes.

• Chinese proverb:

Fall down seven time; get up eight.

If any writers have advice for how to handle rejection, please let me know.
For example: Keep a jar of expensive chocolates to open only when a rejection comes your way.

DRAWING TODAY

Thank you for joining me today. From among those who post comments today, I’ll draw 2 names, each person to receive an autographed of my newest release (release date Nov. 6th) Texas Princess. Here is a blurb about Texas Princess:

With Texas Princess, the second novel in the fascinating Whispering Mountain trilogy, NY Times and USA Today best-selling author Jodi Thomas once again lives up to her reputation as one of the romance genre’s most compelling western historical writers.

Tobin McMurray has hated being around people since he was ambushed, while helping to defend his family’s land, at the age of six. Only because of his love of hors­es does he agree to leave Whispering Mountain to deliver a very special stallion to one of the richest men in Texas.

Upon his arrival, he collides with Liberty Mayfield, the nearest thing to Texas royalty. He’s fascinated by her then shocked when her father asks him to kidnap his only daughter.

Alone and on the run from death threats, strong, quiet Tobin and pampered, headstrong Liberty discover they need one another – both to stay alive and to feel alive as passion ignites. 

The good ol’ days…

I was so excited when Lorraine asked me to be a guest blogger. I write contemporary, and my stories are mostly about Texas and cowboys. I love, love westerns and online cialis canada at the top of this page I see some of the very best western authors. So I’m honored to add my thoughts to the blog.

I write about Texas and cowboys because that’s what I know. I grew up on a farm/ranch in Texas. My dad raised cotton, corn and cattle. He also drilled water wells and was the constable in our community. He was busy and often worked late at night. My three brothers and I rarely saw him, but Sunday was our day. The day we spent with Dad. After early mass and a big dinner my mom had prepared, we’d go to the picture show (that’s what we called it back then ). And yes, you guessed it, it was always a western. My dad wouldn’t watch anything else. I grew up on Gary Cooper (High Noon), Glenn Ford (3:10 to Yuma), Gregory Peck (The Gunfighter), and John Wayne (Red River, Rio Bravo). “Saddle up, pilgrim.” John Wayne couldn’t act, but it didn’t matter. His strong male persona was enough. Wagon Train (Robert Fuller) and Rawhide were TV favorites at our house and I had a hard time taking my eyes off Clint Eastwood, Rowdy Yates. A-ah!            

I’ll always remember those Sunday afternoons. My brothers couldn’t wait for the shootout with the bad guys. They were always making gun noises during the movie. I couldn’t wait for that last scene where the hero rides away with the heroine, sometimes holding her hand. I just knew they were going to live happily ever after. I would be going, “Ah.” My brothers would be sticking their fingers in their mouths and gagging at the scene.

After the movie we’d go for ice cream and my brothers would be acting out the fights and the shootouts. I’d be daydreaming. At that age I wasn’t even thinking about being an author, but those Sunday afternoons and those westerns influenced me in ways I never realized until many years later.  Cowboys have a way of sneaking into my books. Maybe it has something to do with the unwritten code of honor and moral fiber I saw in the heroes of those old movies. Fighting for a cause and willing to die for it. Throw in a romance and it can’t get any better.

Do you have a favorite western when you were a child? Or even now. (Lonesome Dove had me spellbound. I’m still not over Gus dying.) I’d love to hear your favorites. From those who post a response I’ll draw a winner for my Feb Harlequin American, Once A Cowboy. (Take a look at that cowboy.)

3:10 ToYuma is now showing here and I’m trying to talk my husband into going to the movies. I’m dying to see Russell Crowe in Glenn Ford’s role. Not sure if he can pull it off, but I’ll just enjoy watching him. And we’ll definitely have ice cream afterwards.

Ah, the good ol’ days… 

Thank you,

Linda Warren

ADOPTED SON—Sep 2007 Super Romance

TEXAS BLUFF—Feb 2008 Super Romance(Book #5 Texas Hold ‘em Series)

ALWAYS A MOTHER—May 2008 Harlequin Everlasting Love