Plot Monkeys

It’s nearly midnight and I just remembered that I hadn’t blogged. Of course, the moment I remembered was just as I was about to finally drift off to sleep. I hadn’t coughed in about ten minutes…a really amazing thing, since my ribs are likely bruised from the fits I had last night. I hate being sick. I hate having bronchitis or whatever it is I have. I hate missing sleep.

But what I do love is an excuse to have me some honey, whiskey and lemon.

My grandmother used to prescribe this remedy to me when I was a kid. She’d mix it up and I was allowed precisely one tablespoon full of the stuff per hour. Future tippler that I was, I’d watch the clock.

I believe this remedy was for sore throats…but the first sign of a cold and I break out the Jack Daniels. I don’t limit myself to one tablespoon anymore, but I do try to keep things in perspective. After all, I may not be driving, but I do have a kid in the house.

Makes me think about all those wonderful home remedies that we all have in our families. Beyond this toddy-like temptation, my favorite is aloe for burns. I have a huge plant, very hearty. When I got second degree burns on my hand from hitting a burner on my stove (don’t ask…goes to the whole “Julie needs a new kitchen” argument) the aloe was the only thing that offered any relief.

The bottled stuff won’t do, either. It’s got to be the real thing, a stalk sliced off the plant and then cut open to reveal all the gooey goodness inside.

So what are the home remedies you grew up with? Do you still use them? Do they work? Share! (Anything you can offer for a cough and sore ribs would be much appreciated.)

… and not just because I’ve been known to wear a bright yellow ELTON JOHN sweatshirt that embarrasses the heck out of my kids (whether it’s the color or the fact that I wear an Elton shirt, I’m not sure). Traveling with me can almost certainly guarantee flight delays. I am a purely unlucky traveler.

Case in point:
1. RWA Reno – left my house at 4 AM for a 6 AM flight. Stopover in Chicago then into Reno. I figured Chicago is a major hub and in the middle of the summer we’re not worried about snowstorms. Now let it be said along with room service, I am the Plotmonkey least likely to take a stopover flight. Unfortunately no direct flight to Reno existed for me that summer. I landed in Chicago no problem but apparently there were thunderstorms or something that ended up making me late, miss my flight, get stranded at O’Hare ALONE for ten hours, at which point I finally made my flight and by the time I walked into the hotel in Reno it had been almost 24 hours from the time I left my house (NY time).
2. Plotmonkey Trip to Florida – To Disney, the happiest place on earth, according to Julie. Right. But you have to get there first. This story is a little hazy but the way I remember it, Janelle flew into Tampa the day before because she had a longer travel day. Julie and Janelle were going to pick me up at the airport and we’d drive to Orlando to meet up with Les. I arrived at the airport only to discover there was something wrong with the plane or the plane never made it in from its original destination … I can’t remember which. But we weren’t getting a straight answer and so I waited and waited. Janelle and Julie had manicures and pedicures, made a trip to the bakery, and went shopping. I sat in the airport. In the end, to get a plane, the flight crew DROVE to a nearby airport to get the plane and fly it back to my airport at which point I finally made it to Tampa. Because this was hot on the heels of the horrible Reno trip, I remember breaking down and crying on this one. :cry:
3. Aruba 2007 – we’d passed the nightmare Valentine’s Day storm, we weren’t flying Jet Blue this year, and we’d sympathized with the poor people who were stranded for 11 hours ON a plane. The day of our departure was bright and sunny and we were SO THERE. Now you have to realize we knew half the plane and if we didn’t know them, they were all families like us going on vacation to Aruba. We met up with our family friends who we take this trip with (they have two boys sort of near my girls ages) and we had other neighborhood friends on the plane. What happens? The board changes from ON TIME at 8:30 to 9:00. At 9:00 we heard that there was mechanical trouble (are we sensing a pattern here?) and they’d let us know more in twenty minutes. Needless to say, there was NO OTHER PLANE anywhere to substitute for our plane and they were having serious trouble fixing the plane or the part or whatever. I’m having visions of LOST. I take a walk to the bathroom. I come back and I can’t find my family or our friends. I’m looking, and looking … I walk up and down, back and forth and finally I see they’ve taken seats in the back of the room – and are all LAUGHING at me for not being able to find them as nobody called my name to alert me. Why? They wanted to laugh at the idiot in the yellow Elton John sweatshirt. :biteme:

At 11:30 they gave us a $7 food allowance per person which everyone used to horde up on food nobody planned to eat, just on principle, (go figure) and then suddenly everyone was scrambling because THEY’D FIXED THE PLANE and we were boarding! Only 4 hours late. We board. We can’t take off because someone is in the rest room for too long. This should have been an omen I listened to because I got nauseaus on the plane. Now understand 1) I’ve never barfed on an airplane and didn’t intend to now; 2) I would rather pass out than puke. Unfortunately I had no choice and just made it to the restroom. By the time we left the plane, I was so sick I had to stop before making it to customs to sit and put my head down so I didn’t pass out. Luckily it was a 24 hour thing and I was at the pool the next morning, not happy but at least marginally alive.

Alive enough to have written 40 pages during the week … maybe I should move there?
The rest of the trip was pure bliss and paradise.
Day …

and
Night …

So do any of you have nightmare travel stories or are you one of the lucky ones who flies without incident?

(Don’t forget to check back Saturday for my KELLY RIPA story)

As most of you know, I recently moved back up to Maryland after living for 15 years in Florida. My girls pretty much grew up there, so they’ve never experienced many of the joys of winter…such as lying in bed on a wickedly cold morning, listening to the radio while you huddle under the covers, praying for a “no school today” announcement…or at least a “2 hours late” one.

Now, of course, they hop out of bed, run over to their computer and check the school board website. So do I. It’s quicker.

Anyway, about two weeks ago, we had our first real snowstorm of the winter. It wasn’t much, just a couple of inches, but it was enough to get them out of school. We sledded, made snowballs and snow angels and drank hot chocolate. (BTW: They lasted outside for about 1 hour before complaining and wanting to come in. Wimps…we used to go out wrapped like mini Michelin men and stay out there until our lips froze off!)

The thing is, that piddly 3″ of snow wasn’t much of a big deal…BUT that night, it was followed by an ice storm. I am talking 2-3″ of straight ICE landed on top of the snow and it really shut everything down. They were out of school for 3 full days and 3 partial ones! Just unbelievable–there were accidents everywhere, you couldn’t shovel your driveway because you couldn’t break through the ice to get to the snow beneath.

It was hellish for driving.

But oh, was it fun for sliding down!

That Saturday, we went up to Liberty Ski Resort in northern Maryland, rented inner tubes, and flew down the side of a mountain for a couple of hours. It was fun, but horribly busy and crowded, so the thrill was quickly dashed by interminible lines to get up the people-movers to the top…or worse, trudging up by foot. (Did that once…no more!)

We’d gotten a taste of winter fun, but not nearly enough. So the next day, when we had a big family gathering, my goofy kid brother (guess he’s not actually a kid anymore since he’s 35!) and I decided we wanted to try ice sledding in my sister’s front yard. We had two rubber discs and a lot of liquid courage. Dragging my older sister, Cheri, with us, we went out onto the front porch, which was so icy we kept slipping off. We’d ease our adult-size butts onto the kid-size disks, give ourselves a little push, and FLY down the gentle slope of the front yard. It’s a long yard, like I said–gentle, easy slope–no big hills. But, remember, it was solid ICE. Once you got started…you flew!

One more problem: at the bottom of the yard is a line of pine trees…beyond that, a ditch….then the road…then another HUGE hill that ends in a lake.

The trick was to STOP before you ended up in the lake.

Sounds easy, right? But believe me, if you can’t break through ice with a pickax to try to shovel it (we were doing that earlier in the day so Killian–the “beast” great dane I wrote about last summer–could get out to go to the bathroom) you could just forget about trying to stop yourself with a boot clad foot. I don’t care how “gentle” the hill was, once you got going, there was NO easy way to stop!

There were a few choices:

1. Roll off when you got to the bottom of the first slope and pray.
2. Try desperately to avoid the trees, and a big stump where one had been removed last summer, aim for the ditch, desperately throw yourself off before you rise back up onto the road, then hit the major hill and plunge down to the lake. And pray.
3. Beg someone to catch you at the bottom. And pray.
4. Head straight for the trees and let them stop you. And pray.

After trying all of the above with my gleefully cackling siblings, we decided landing in the pine trees was the best alternative. Evergreens have soft, brushy pine needles. And it smelled so much like Christmas. Scratches we could live with…we weren’t giving up our fun.

The one problem was, we had to avoid the sharp, pointy spikes we created every time we crashed into the trees and broke another branch.

Our shrieks of laughter drew everyone else out of the house, including my hubby and my daughters. Soon *everyone* was flying down that hill. And as the trees grew more and more sharp with broken branches, we started taking up positions at the bottom of the hill to try to “catch” whoever was flying down toward us next. Usually catching equated to “diving on” as it was the only way to stop anyone.

Eventually, someone brought out the camera…

Here are my hubby Bruce and I, getting ready for our first joint descent!

Ready…set…GO! Bruce and I go down together, holding hands, after a gentle push from my youngest and a shout of encouragement from my brother (the one in the goofy hat!!)

Okay, we’re picking up steam now…passing the first obstacle (I think I forgot to mention there’s a huge pine tree–without those nice soft fronds–right in the middle of the yard! And I also forgot to mention…you can forget about trying to steer on the way down!)

Okay, cut to the bottom of the hill. We’ve missed the stump. And the ditch. So we’re safe from the lake.

But now we have to make the slide under the tree!!!

And here’s where we end up! Safe and sound, wrapped in the lovely smell of Christmas trees. And, oh joy, no eyes poked out from protruding broken limbs.

People ask me…Why do I write romance?

Why else: Bruce! My best friend…and my hero! :love2:

Now this next sequence of my crazy baby brother and I makes me laugh…it brings back such wonderful childhood memories! (Except, back then, I was usually tormenting Lee…on this particular day, he was the one who kept spinning me out of control on purpose!)

Here we are heading down the hill…

We end up in the same spot!

But it takes a lot to get my good-natured baby brother down!

All in all, it was an absolutely hilarious day. Whether we were sliding down on the disks, our butts, big trash bags, plastic bin lids…whether we were sent spinning in a whirl by my brother Lee or our family friend Nathan, whether we held hands two by two…three by three…or once, four by four…whether we were holding a beer in our lap (oy) we somehow managed to NOT kill ourselves!

There were a few times when we had to react quickly when deciding who to save. Which my 15 year old is never going to let us forget. (My hubby and I both instinctively dove for her little sister…the older one was, umh, quite indignant and accused us of not caring if she got killed as long as the little one was okay.)

Though the quality’s not great and you really can’t get a feel for how bloody fast I’m going, I thought I’d share this video Bruce took with his cell phone. Remember: He’s holding the phone. He’s also the one who decided to ’save’ me at the end. Which is why things get kind of upside down.

Let me say again…Bruce: My Hero!

BREAKING NEWS:

Our family friend Nathan Riska saw this blog today and sent me HIS video of the very same slide above…it’s much better quality, and you can actually see what happened when Bruce dove to save me.

So much fun!

Thanks Nathan!

The winner of Janelle’s Jungle Madness Contest is:

Tina Martinesi (Comment #19)

Congratulations, Tina! Be sure to email me with your full name and mailing address at: janelledenison@sbcglobal.net so I can mail you your prize.

AND NOW, A SUNDAY FUNNY:

I didn’t know I wanted to write and I can’t pinpoint the reason I decided to try. All I do know is that one day, after an argument with my husband over my expensive hardcover reading habit (one book a day/$20 each), I tracked the authors I love back to their roots so I could read them in paperback (cheaper he said) and discovered romance. From there it was a short trip to deciding I wanted to give writing romance a try. I went into a bookstore and purchased a “how to” book and outlined it from cover to cover – I think the book was called “How to write a romance and get it Published” by Phyllis Taylor Pianka. I didn’t tell anyone in my family that I was pursuing this dream. I was afraid they’d laugh, I think. I never majored in English, I really wasn’t a creative person in any way, so this wasn’t expected especially since I’d been a lawyer. I went to college, law school and was licensed to practice in New York and Connecticut. I worked for eight months and couldn’t handle the pressure. So I was home with my first baby, dealing with colic and deciding to write.

I had an old IBM computer (I think), one I had gotten when I started law school. I had a dot matrix printer/perforated edges paper printer, and I’d started to write when my husband was at work, wasn’t around. When I needed to print the pages out, I realized that I needed something with more power. Believe it or not, that’s what outted me. I went to my husband I told him that I wanted a new computer and printer, that I was writing, and that despite how crazy it sounded, I KNEW that it wasn’t something I’d give up or try and fail at. I KNEW I was meant to write. I must give the man credit. He didn’t laugh at me. And though I can’t remember, I am pretty sure we bought a new printer and computer.

At the time, I was reading the lines (category romance lines) and trying to decide what I wanted to write. I remember deciding on a Special Edition. I wrote a manuscript I called KINDRED SPIRITS and I finished it, then I queried Silhouette exactly like the books told me to. I remember also calling Silhouette and asking questions. In between while writing, I’d read in the book that if you want to write a romance, you must join Romance Writers of America (www.rwanational.org) because of what a wonderful organization it is. I had called and joined, and gotten the name of my local chapter. I walked into a woman’s home where the meetings were held, petrified, shy, and my life changed forever. I became a writer with writing friends. This particular chapter was critique group focused. They’d read their work aloud and others would critique it. I didn’t understand how anyone could know more about my manuscript than me, and I always opted out. One of the published members even offered to read and critique my manuscript and again, I opted out for the same reason. Until Silhouette answered my query letter with a “Yes we’d like to read your manuscript.” The next day, I sent the full to someone in my chapter and she critiqued and sent it back … and I learned something. My entire story was in passive voice. That was probably my first big writing lesson. I fixed up my story and sent it back to Silhouette.

OK laugh at me if you want, but I was convinced I was going to sell. I thought if they asked to see it, they’d buy it. Boy was I wrong, LOL. But I’d started to go to RWA conferences and meet writing people, and the Internet became a part of my life. I realized there was a process to the rejections.

Over a seven year period, I realized that at first I would get generic rejection letters. Dear Author and “I’m sorry your story does not meet our needs.” But then one day something amazing happened. I got a one line critique of my manuscript. While I enjoyed X about your story, I had a problem with Y. That’s when I started to learn if an editor took the time to make a real comment, there was something they liked in the manuscript. One hurdle passed. And later, the key line at the bottom of the rejection that I looked for before anything else: If you have anything else for me to see, please send it along marked Requested Material on the envelope. I even started to look forward to rejection letters because they meant more progress.

And I kept on going, still targeting mostly Special Edition or Desire. I had a manuscript that was called READY MADE FAMILY and it had been rejected all over – but it had also gotten very far up the line to senior editors before being rejected. I knew it had potential.

Before giving up on that story for good, I packaged up three chapters and sent them off to Harlequin Temptation and Brenda Chin.

A STRANGE THING HAPPENED while I was sitting in the diner …
I called home and on my answering machine was a message from Brenda Chin. My heart started racing. Logically I knew that she wouldn’t buy on a proposal (three chapters and an outline) but SHE’D CALLED. It turns out she wanted me to do some revisions and resend. (I called back from a pay phone – do they have pay phones anymore, LOL!) You can bet I did those fast and sent back. I revised a few more times for her and she sent it up to the senior editor. I knew this book wouldn’t sell though, because Temptation was getting hotter (Temptation – Blaze) and this was a family type story originally targeted for Special Edition and I was right. I sent Brenda a few more stories I had already written, non worked for her.

At some point, I was pregnant with my second baby and in the hospital with preterm labor when my mom called to tell me that Brenda had called. I called her back from the hospital and took notes on revisions in the back of a book I was reading at the time. Brenda still can’t believe I called her from the hospital. How could I not? Next to having this baby, selling a book was one of the only things on my mind. As I said, the few old books didn’t sell.

But Brenda was persistent and she said to me, I know you can write, now give me a story I can buy. Bless her, she worked with me from idea, to outline, to proposal to full story. By the time she sent my story, WEEKEND LOVER to the senior editor, she had been over it with a fine tooth comb. The next time I heard from Brenda was for REVISIONS. I kid you not. More revisions for the senior editor, and then more WAITING.

Seven years into the process I had two children. I’d moved twice. I’d submitted, revised and resubmitted at least 10 completed manuscripts all over creation depending on the publishing house’s rules. I’d seen lines fold and lines start anew. I knew about publishing’s summer hours. I knew if I didn’t hear from Brenda by four on a Friday, I probably wouldn’t.

And then I got THE CALL. Around 3:30 during the week while my husband was on the golf course and unreachable for my good news, I got THE CALL. Brenda wanted to buy WEEKEND LOVER.

~ would I mind if we changed the name to BRAZEN?
~ would I mind taking a pseudonym because we needed something more hip than Karen and easier to remember than Drogin?
~ would I mind if from here on in I was slotted in the TEMPTATION HEAT line?

You get the gist! I minded NONE OF IT.
For those of you trying to get published, there is a lesson: PERSEVERANCE. Write and never give up. DO not rely on one manuscript and revise it forever. Always have something new to submit in case what you have out there is rejected. And believe in yourself. Overnight success is RARE. (Remind me one day to tell you the real post Kelly Ripa story if you want to know what I mean ).

To this day, I’ve written 25 books including Hot Property, the story I am writing now. Four of them were for Warner, three of my older stories were for Kensington, and two anthologies were for St. Martins and NAL. That means that 16 of my books were for Brenda Chin.

I owe my career to Brenda. I’m just glad that I’ve hit the NY Times for her too. I still owe her a top 15 NYT hit. Can you let her know I’m working on it?

To belatedly celebrate Valentine’s Day this month, I’m giving away Godiva chocolate & books! I can’t think of a better combination than that

One lucky winner will receive a Godiva gift basket that consists of a Godiva solid dark chocolate bar, Godiva dessert chocolates in strawberry cheesecake (Yum!), Godiva hot cocoa, Godiva milk chocolate macadamia nut biscotti, Godiva hot cocoa, and a mug! Winner will also receive two of my books that both have a “chocolate” theme to them: Sinfully Sweet & Pure Indulgence.

All you have to do to enter is post on today’s blog. Winner will be announced on Sunday, so be sure to stop by over the weekend to check and see if you’re the winner!

A year and a half ago, during a phone call home while I’m attending a Romance Writers of America conference, my husband informs me that our youngest daughter, Kellie, has decided to become a vegetarian. Of course I ask what has brought about this decision, and I’m told that it happened as a result of an argument between Kellie and her older sister, Danielle, over the crushing death of a BUG. Yes, you read that right . . . a bug.

It seems that Kellie (12 at the time) and Danielle (14 at the time) were outside when some kind of flying bug dive bombed Danielle. Danielle HATES all kinds of bugs - - from spiders to flies to ants - - they creep her out. (Hey, she’s her mother’s daughter, for sure!) So, she swatted at the thing, knocked it down to the concrete, and promptly squished it with her shoe. (Just as I would have). Kellie, a lover of all animals and bugs, gets hysterical over the death of this bug, and her sister’s part it in. She’s so upset that she runs inside to tell her father what happened, in hopes of getting her sister in trouble.

After listening to Kellie’s tale and accusations against her sister, Don tells Kellie “It’s just a bug!”, of which Kellie replies back, “It’s a living, breathing insect and Danielle just killed it!”. Don isn’t one for theatrics, and goes on to tell her that animals and insects are killed every day. In fact, she eats animals all the time: chicken, beef, pork, etc. After a moment’s thought, Kellie announces, “Fine! Then I’m becoming a vegetarian!”. This from a kid who loves hamburgers, chicken nuggets, pork roast, and her very favorite - - Steak! Her dad’s reply is, “Okay. Whatever,” because he honestly believes that this “heat-of-the-moment” decision of Kellie’s will last all of one day.

I hang up the phone and tell Carly (who is my roommate) about Kellie’s decision to become a vegetarian. We both have a good laugh about it, and since she has a daughter the same age as Kellie, we both know that this will blow over within a few days, because Kellie won’t be able to stop eating meat.

So, I come home from my conference and Kellie informs me of her decision to become a vegetarian. I play along and tell her that’s fine, but it’s okay if she decides to eat meat again. She insists that she won’t, because she doesn’t want to contribute to the slaughter of animals. I’m thinking that’s a bit dramatic, but I’m still thinking that she’s going to miss meat, and this “meat strike” of hers will eventually end.

A month later, and she still hasn’t touched meat, and we’re no longer laughing. This kid is serious, and because I’m now concerned about her getting enough protein and iron in her diet, I make a deal with her. She can cut meat out of her diet, so long as she at least eats FISH. Yeah, that’s technically meat, and an “animal”, but she feels it’s the lesser of all those other evils and agrees. Still, at this point, I’m thinking this is all going to end, and I’m hoping SOON, because it’s a pain to have to cook different stuff for her to eat on the nights that we have chicken, beef, or pork.

Fast forward a year later, and she STILL isn’t eating meat, except for fish. Honestly, I’m amazed that she truly gave it up and lasted this long! Now it’s to the point that she checks boxed items and frozen foods to make sure that there is no meat product in the mix. And if there is, she won’t eat it.

It’s impressive, and frustrating as hell (for me), LOL! Especially when we go out to a restaurant. Like the time we went to Mimi’s Café for dinner, and Kellie saw “chicken caesar salad” on the menu. She asked me why they didn’t have just a plain “caesar salad” listed, and I told her that even though it wasn’t on the menu, she could order it without the chicken. She asked me if they were going to pick the chicken out of a chicken caesar salad already made, and I assured her that hers would be made fresh, from scratch. (Because if any kind of meat has even TOUCHED something in a meal, then has been picked out, she won’t eat whatever the meal is. Urgh!).

Anyway, our orders arrive, as does Kellie’s plain caesar salad. We’re talking and eating when all of a sudden I see Kellie, who is sitting across from me, spit a huge mouthful of salad back onto her plate - - and not very inconspicuously, either, but complete with gagging, hacking, and spitting sounds. I’m absolutely mortified and ask her what’s wrong. She tells me that she tasted chicken, and I’m so annoyed at this point and I tell her that there is no chicken in her salad, that it was made FRESH. So, she digs around the spit-up salad with her fork and what does she find . . . a damn piece of chicken! No joke! Needless to say, she refuses to EVER eat at Mimi’s again, and this has only made her more distrustful of restaurants in general. Sigh.

Fast forward again to the present. Now Kellie (who is now 14) has decided that she wants to cut ALL meat out of her diet, including fish. I tell her no, that it’s really her only good source of protein, and eating it 3-5 times a week isn’t a big deal. But all of a sudden it’s a big deal to her, and knowing how stubborn she can be, I figure it’s time to consult with a nutritionist to make sure that if she cuts out ALL meat out of her diet that she’s eating the proper things so that her body will get all the nutrients that she needs. It’s an enlightening visit, and the nutritionist assures me that she CAN cut out all meat and be okay. But it’s going to take some creative cooking and changes (oh, joy).

Luckily, Kellie likes soy products. She drinks soy milk and eats soybeans and tofu – and those are the things that she’s going to need to incorporate into her diet on a regular basis to get that protein that her body has to have. On the drive home, Kellie asks me to look up tofu recipes on the internet, and I’m surprised to find just how widely used tofu is in recipes! I’m finding recipes for tofu lasagna, potato tofu salad, tofu non-meatloaf, tofu pot pie, tofu taquitos, tofu banana bread, tofu pancakes, and even tofu brownies and tofu fudge chews! Wow! Who would have thought that Tofu could be so versatile? Certainly not I! And, as a bonus, tofu is super-low in fat and calories so it works right in with my healthier way of eating, too.

BUT, tofu does not take the place of real meat. At least not for me, Don, and Danielle. I’ll definitely give the tofu recipes a try for Kellie’s sake, but there’s no way I’m giving up beef, chicken, and pork.

So, is anyone out there a vegetarian that can offer me some sage advice? And for you meat-eaters out there, could you give up beef, pork and chicken?

Well, I did it! I just finished up judging the six books sent to me as part of the RITA contest. And now more than ever, I’m convinced…the contest simply doesn’t matter.

(For those of you who don’t know…the RITA award is an award given to authors by Romance Writers of America. It is peer-judged. Each book entered is judged by five preliminary judges and if they make the finals, by five final round judges. FYI.)

Look, I’m not dissing anyone who has won. Or been nominated. Hell, I’ve been nominated, would love to be nominated again. Winning would seriously kick ass. But after reading this year’s entries, I’m no longer going to allow the slightest disappointment if I’m not nominated.

You know why? Because the contest simply isn’t an accurate reflection of a book’s success or potential success.

It’s not even an accurate reflection of whether or not a book is good.

Let me tell you why…and I’ll do it discreetly, so no one will know what books I’m talking about.

I had six books to judge.

First book…a paranormal. A cute, funny one.

Guess what? I’m not much for paranormals that are cute and funny. I much prefer the darker ones. I’m not saying I can’t read and enjoy cute, funny paranormals–but they are not my preference, so here comes a book I’m pretty much ready not to like so much.

The writing was good…but frankly, the plotting just wasn’t my cuppa. But I knew there wasn’t anything WRONG with the plotting…it just wasn’t enjoyable to me as a reader. Too silly. So here’s a book that is technically well written that got a lower score (not low by any means–above average, for sure) from me simply because no matter how I tried, this book simply didn’t call for me to read it. I had to force myself. And that’s not fun.

But the entire time, I could definitely see how OTHER people could like the book a lot. Only the thing is, OTHER people aren’t judging the contest. I am. So my personal preferences rule. Sorry, but they do.

It’s impossible to “be objective.” This contest isn’t just about the technical side of writing. It’s also about the intangibles…reader interest, character, theme, tension. One person’s masterpiece is another person’s “meh.”

And so it goes…

Second book…short contemporary. Predictible, predictible, predictible. If I can figure out a plot in ten pages, this is not good. Now, a reader who hadn’t read a lot of short contemporary romances probably would have been surprised by the plot twists, but I’ve been reading short contemporary books for over 15 years. Takes a lot to surprise me. See? Writing was fine…but the storyline just didn’t fit with ME. I feel badly for this writer. She drew the short end of the stick getting me as her reader. Average score.

Third book…another short contemporary. This one I read all the way through quickly and liked the story fairly well. Lacked a plot really, but hey, short contemporary sometimes does and I’m okay with that. Above average score.

Fourth book…another paranormal. This one I like. Has a few elements that stretch credulity with me at the end (not the right place to put them…I’d rather have hints sprinkled through that these really weirdo things might happen later so it doesn’t seem like the writer is just writing herself out of a corner) but the writing was good and I went back to the story each time with enthusiasm. Oh, and it had vampires. This is not a good thing for me–I’m not a big vampire fan. BUT this writer had a cool world created. So in this case, my personal preferences didn’t get in my way. Cool. Above average score.

Fifth book…another paranormal. By a very popular author. I’ve read previous books by this author and enjoyed them. Read this one voraciously…then hated the ending. Hated, hated, hated. As a reader. As a writer. HUGE disappointment. Only gets a slightly above average score despite the fact that I’d read it as if I were eating pasta. Note to self: make sure you don’t rush the ending or gyp your reader. Oh, and it had vampires–which again, I didn’t mind. Maybe I don’t hate vampires as much as I think I do.

Sixth book…another pararnormal…with vampires. Really liked this one a lot. Awesome voice. Read with enthusiasm. Some parts didn’t make sense…still, I gave it a pretty high score. The highest of all the books except maybe book four (see, I’ve already forgotten!) Solid writing, great characters. Very interesting and unique world building. Maybe it’s old hat to people who read a lot of vampire books, but to me…I thought it was cool. Until this exercise, the only vampires I’d read were Anne Rice and Bram Stoker. You know, the classics. Now, I’m much more widely read…though if these books were series books, I’m not sure I’d read another one. You know, all those vampires.

So you can pretty much see how random I felt my scores were.

I read book reviews, but I have never NOT bought a book because of a review. I have bought books because of reviews, but never the opposite. A book has to pretty much get panned in several trusted places before I decide I don’t want to read it–and even then, if a book came to my attention enough for me to read the reviews in more than one place, chances are I’m going to find out for myself whether or not I think the book is good and not trust some reviews. Nothing makes me cringe more than seeing someone post on a message board the following: “X, thanks for the review! I’m so glad I didn’t buy the book since you hated it.”

HUH?

I mean, unless this is your bestest friend with whom you share EXACT reading tastes, does this make sense? Not to me. I’ve read lots of books that I’ve loved and my friends have not…and vice-versa.

This exercise, first and foremost, made me appreciate my 2005 RITA nomination even more. But it also reminded me that it’s all about luck and very little about talent simply because so many writers are talented! I’d say that five out of the six books I read were flawlessly written. The characterization was strong, the voices interesting. One stood out above the rest. The other didn’t quite measure up because of plot problems.

And let’s talk about plot problems. Some readers don’t give a good damn if a book is “predictible.” They don’t care in the least. This is simply a pet peeve of mine–ask the Plotmonkeys who is always saying, “Oh, that’s been done a million times.” Me. I admit it. Sometimes, predictible works for me, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I’m so unfamiliar with a genre or subgenre that I don’t know what is predictible and what isn’t.

So…what the point of this blog. Just flushing the whole judging thing out of my system. I really don’t enjoy judging other people’s work. In fact, I sort of hate it. But RWA needs judges, so I do it. But over the many years I’ve been doing this, I’ve learned it is essential for an entrant to to draw precisely the right judges for their work…and there’s no way to do that. No work, in my opinion, is universal. Good writing will out–as the saying goes–it still subjective. I might think a book is utterly fantabulous that someone else enjoyed, but wasn’t overly enthusiastic about–or downright hated.

My moods change. A book that I loved at the time might be a chore for me to read another day. And what if that mood never changes? I remember reading a book once that I started and stopped about five times before the mood finally hit me and I loved the book so much it ended up one of my top ten favorite books for the year…why did it take me so long to warm up? Can’t say. It wasn’t one I had to judge, so I don’t have to!

So, I guess the point of my blog is to assure my fellow writers that while I wish you all the best of luck in getting nominated for a RITA or any other contest and hope you wish the same for me, keep in mind that the whole act is subjective and you cannot measure your worth as an author or measure the worth of your books by one contest or another. You got published. You probably have emails from readers telling you how much they loved a book.

THAT is what counts.

And to readers–whether or not a book gets good reviews doesn’t mean you won’t possibly enjoy it. Right? You should decide for yourself if it’s a book that otherwise caught your interest. That’s why I love book discussions, but abhor book lynchings. There’s a difference.

I just realized that it looks like I give terminally average scores in the RITAs. Actually, four books I judged in preliminary rounds in years past have not only made it to the finals, they’ve won. It’s all luck of the draw.

Best wishes and Happy Tuesday from me to you from the beaches of Aruba!

So tell me … where is your favorite vacation spot - real or imagined?

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it on here, but I am a big game player. I love playing board games or party games. I have been known to instigate a rousing game of charades and you just don’t want to play a trivia game against a team comprised of me and my hubby.

I have a new favorite game that has had me thinking a lot. My equally game-nutty brother got this very cool game for Christmas and I liked it so much I bought myself a copy of it from Amazon. It’s called TRUE COLORS.

Anyway, Sunday was one of those days when my family all gets together, drinks a lot of beer, does stupid stuff like going out sledding–make that “icing” on the 2 inches of ice covering my sister’s lawn–and gets loud and obnoxious playing games. So we dug out this game and it sparked some really interesting–hilarious–conversations.

Here’s how the game works: Everyone has a color. A question is read and each person has to vote–using the colors–on who the question most applies to. Then you try to guess how people will vote for you…whether you’ll get the most votes, none at all, or “some.”

For instance, a question might be something like, “Who here could talk their way out of a speeding ticket?” Easy, right? But some of the questions are a little more insulting: Who’d be most likely to commit a crime? Who always thinks they’re right? Who’s the least honest? Who’s the cheapest? (They’re not worded exactly that way, but that’s the gist.)

Well, I have to say it was quite eye opening to say the least. Who knew I am the one who never shuts up during movies? (My 15 year old did a cutting impression of me critically analyzing everything I watch.) Or that I would be the most likely to scream obscenities at a visiting sports team? (Per my 11 year old…who justified that by pointing to my potty mouth when I’m behind the wheel.) Or that I am the worst driver? (Okay…I guess I can see that one. Sigh.) My nephew got very offended when he got zero votes for the question “Who here would you most like to have as your child?” (Uh…his Mother was playing…ahem…)

Anyway, if you’re ever looking for a fun game that can inspire some raucous debate, be sure to check this one out!

Or if you just want to have a conversation where you learn more about somebody else. Like, umh, this:

Which Plotmonkey is willing to arm wrestle for crème brulee?
Which Plotmonkey would be best to have at your back in a fight?
Which Plotmonkey won’t stay at a place that doesn’t have room service?
Which Plotmonkey lives life as a musical?

Any answers…or more questions? I bet some of our Plotmonkeys regulars could play this game together and have a ball!

PS: I’ll be doing an online chat (my first in ages!) tonight at www.eharlequin.com. It’s at 8pm EST. As of right now there’s a link to the chatroom on the bottom of the main page at eHarlequin. If you’ve never shopped or chatted there before, you might want to arrive a few minutes early to set up an id/password. PLEASE JOIN ME (I do hate to chat alone. ) I’m sure I’ll be giving away stuff.