2014. How's it Going So Far?

Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

That's the quote I discovered and put on my Facebook banner.  I thought it said a lot about what we've blogged about this month.  At the beginning of a new year, we make resolutions, goals, promises to ourselves, our families, our friends.  Those things are sometimes easy to make, but oh so hard to keep.  At least for me it is.  And it takes work.  Hard work.

It's been quite a month for many of us. 

Pat, once again, has graciously accepted to wear the crown of WARA president for another year.  Bless you, Pat. ;)  As always, she keeps us going and reminds us--or at least me--that time goes on, whether we're paying attention or not.  Yeah, a lot of "not" days for me.  It seems the days go by faster and faster, leaving me to wonder why it was January 1st yesterday, and now it's almost the end of the month.

Theresa has decided to take on a new "identity" as Theresa Jaye, but she'll always be the same sweet, caring and giving person she's always been.  No matter who "she" is, she'll  always tickle our funny bones with her blog posts and her positive outlook on just about everything.

Joan continues on her journey of conquering health issues, while living in limbo during an extended move from one house to a new one.  Not an easy feat!  No doubt she'll conquer the boxes and everything else, before the year is half gone.

Nina taught us how not to make a pocket calendar and that she's filled with determination to win her battle with technology.  Aren't we all?  Thanks to Nina for sharing so many organization tricks!  I can use all the help I can get.

Penny reminded us all of how important she is to all of us and that we're a lot like a family---we're here for each other.  That may be one of the best things anyone can ever learn.  Thank you, Penny. :)

Melissa wants to be the odd duck. ;)  She's looking forward to her "new year" in late August, when all of her offspring will be attending full days of school.  No more half-days for her bunch!  Or her!!!  I remember those days well and seem to be repeating them again with my g-kids.  I guess I didn't learn the lesson the first time around!

Becky found good things about breaking her arm.  Now that's an accomplishment I need to learn.  No, no, not the broken arm, but finding good things in what we perceive to be not so good at all.  Becky, really? Titanium?  Wow!  Is that like Superman or something?  Thanks for showing us the best way to handle the rough spots.

Me?  I mentioned setting goals and a lot of other useless things.  I'm still on the road with them, but I'll admit that some days I just want to sit down and let the day go by.  Can't do that, though, so I'm up and chasing my dreams.  C'est la vie.

Thank you to all of our bloggers for making this little spot one of my favorite places to stop and not only catch up, but learn more about each of you.  And thank you to our visitors for stopping by!

Today is the best day of the year!

Navigating the Hills and Valleys of Holidays

I will not whine.

Let's face it, life has its ups, downs, and sharp curves, and we all experience them.  Looking back on this year, my first impulse is to say that it started out fairly well, then took a downward turn.  Not a steep hill, but slowly going down.  So there have been times, especially during these holidays when crawling into a hole or at least bed with covers over the head sounds divine and the only way to survive.  Adopting Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" as my theme song and heaving heavy, morose sighs are my usual response, but I've had some new thoughts on this.

It's easy to let the holiday rush and fuss, and the super highs we experience during these last few weeks of the year leave us tired and worn out. Emotional highs are good, but, like sugar highs, the crash when they're over are sometimes too hard to bear.  Those times when we crawl into a fetal position come too fast and too often.  My highs haven't been all that high, but then a couple of things happened.

The night after the day after Christmas happened.  I've been diligently working on revisions from hell and had gotten to the point where I didn't know where to go with the scene, so I decided to leave it for the morning and go to bed.  We all tend to get a little maudlin when we're tired.  Being worn out, especially mentally, makes it so much easier to see the negative things that have happened or are happening.  That was me.  And suddenly I realized that all wasn't as bad as I kept thinking.  Good things had happened recently.  Okay, not so good ones, too, and those were what I'd been focusing on.  How easy it is to miss the good things, especially the small ones, when we're down in the dumps.  As soon as I had that stunning thought that there had been good that I'd not embraced as I should, I felt a smidgen better.  So I thought a little harder.  I found two, specific things that made me take notice.

A month ago, I vanquished dark clouds that had hung over me for something that had happened way back in high school.  It took the simple act of stuffing my bad feelings aside and saying hello to the person who I hadn't seen or spoken to for 35 years.  In fact I've tried not to even think of it.  What surprised me that day was that, afterward, I felt proud of myself.  I felt good.  About me.  A little over a week later, that person called me, and we talked on the phone for nearly an hour.  (Let me say that I nearly didn't answer the phone when I saw the caller ID.)  But it was okay.  It didn't hurt at all, and because of it, I've put those bad times behind, where they belong.  Now I can smile.

Christmas Eve, there was a knock on our door, and outside stood a man holding a plastic sack.  The neighbor introduced himself, and handed me the bag.  "It's a ham," he said.  "Can you use it?"  Well, color me shocked.  Apparently he's gotten to know my grandsons and thinks they're great.  (Obviously he doesn't know them as well as I do. ;) )  It wasn't until I went into the house, after talking with him for a good ten minutes, that I realized who he was.  To be honest, I wouldn't have picked him as someone who would bring me a ham or even have a conversation with, civil or not.  And it was okay.  It didn't hurt at all.


How do I say this?  It isn't the things that happen that make us angry or sad, it's our thoughts about them.  Granted, life has its disappointments and sadness.  But it also has surprises and happiness.  If we focus more on the good, instead of wallowing in the bad by thinking and worrying about them, we find that it's a pretty decent turnover.  It's those little things, like a hello or a ham that can make a big difference.

With the end of this year coming to a close, it's a time of reflection for many.  A time to look back and decide what changes we want to make.  I'm not one for making New Year's Resolutions.  I know ahead of time that they'll be broken within days.  But if I want to make the most of the rest of my life, I will have to make one.  Not a resolution for the new year, but one to be carried out each day.  An Each Day Resolution?  Each night when I go to bed, I'll find one good thing--one thing that made me smile or laugh--that happened during the day, and then focus on it.  And it won't hurt at all.  In fact, it will probably make me smile.

Anyone want to vanquish the blues?  Would you like to join me on the Each Day Resolution and see if this experiment works?  Life, itself is an experiment, so let's make it a great one.

And I did not whine.  Well, just a little in the beginning. ;)

If you're looking for help on how to get through the holidays, check out 'Tis the Season of Madness, over at my blog, Diary of a Mad Romance Author.  You'll find links galore!  It isn't too late to start.

With a Little Help from My Friends

Making a Friendship

While I'm an avid plotter like Pat and it's done a lot to help me as a writer, when I really thought about what is "the most useful writing craft idea I've ever found", it isn't plotting, it isn't an idea or a craft.  It's friends.

When I came into this writing thing, my goal was to see if I could actually write a romance.  I'd bounced back into reading them after a long spell and discovered I enjoyed them.  Really enjoyed them.  A far cry from Stephen King books, for sure.  So I sat down and wrote, mostly longhand, a romance novel.  I liked it!  I really liked it!  Not that it was a great story, but it was fun and I wanted to write more.

Sometime later, I actually had an odd thought.  Maybe I could become a real author with this new found enjoyment.  I checked out books, I bought books, everything I could find on how to write a romance and what to do after it was written. And in the back of one of those books--Romance Writer's Sourcebook--I found information on Romance Writers of America (RWA).  My interest skyrocketed.

This was before the internet became what it is today, but as soon as I learned that my then-husband had been using the World Wide Web for some time---we won't talk about what happened when I found the charge listed on the credit card for it---I demanded I get a chance to give it a try.  I honestly don't remember how, but I found a romance writers chatroom.  I read it for weeks, never typing a word to interact with the others, just reading their conversations.  Not until my birthday, that is, when I decided, what the heck.  Introduce yourself, silly.  In that chatroom, I found people who were actually writing and seeking publication.  One of those people just happened to be an RWA member and a Golden Heart Finalist, who was going to the National RWA conference in Dallas in a little over a month.  I, too, decided that one way or another I would be at that conference.  I called RWA, paid a new membership fee and conference fee, booked a flight, a hotel room and a rental car, and informed the then-husband that I was going to Dallas.  He nearly fell off the combine, where he was standing.

Kat and moi on the road trip to DC 2000 Conference

I'll never forget how nervous I was, but when Kathie DeNosky, the Golden Heart Finalist from that
chatroom, came up behind me to introduce herself as I stood in line to register, it became one of the biggest turning points in my life.  (Note:  I'd told her what I'd be wearing and she'd been watching for me.)  We bonded instantly, and I swore to her that I would hang onto her shirttail forever.  I did, and still do.  She sold her first book to Silhouette Desire on June 14 (my birthday), three years later.  I sold my first to Silhouette Romance on April 3, 2000.

Along the way, we met and made friends with many romance writers, both published and yet-to-be-published.  Janet Barton, who now writes for Love Inspired, became one of our dearest friends, as did Belinda Barnes, who sold to Silhouette Romance before I did.  We critiqued together, we brainstormed together, we consoled and celebrated together.  Kat (Kathie) and I logged more times on the phone (me in Kansas, she in Illinois) with each other than two people ever should.  If it hadn't been for those three ladies, I would have thrown in the towel, dozens of times.  We shared good times and bad times, and even a few secrets.

Although we no longer spend anywhere near the time on the phone as we did in the past, Kat and I are still often in touch.  We brainstorm (along with chitcat and gossip) via phone (3-way calls) with Kristi Gold (Desire, SuperRomance, and back to Desire) in Texas, who once critiqued with Belinda Barnes.  Yes, it's a small world.

But it isn't just the ones I've mentioned that have inspired me along the road of writing.  It's also the many members of WARA I've been blessed to know, throughout the past seventeen years.  I love ya, ladies!

Writing is like making a quilt.  You can do it alone, or you can do it with friends.  Honestly? Both quilting and life are much better enjoyed with friends.

Holiday Crazies

I'm probably the odd woman out in the group when it comes to holidays.  I'm not a big holiday person.  That doesn't mean I'm a holiday hater.  It simply means that I chose some years ago that the pre-holiday insanity was, for me, better avoided than embraced.  But that's me, and I don't tell friends or family that they can't enjoy their holiday planning, working and festivities.  Not at all.  In fact, I'll be there early for the celebrating!

The above does not mean that we skip holidays in our family.  It only means that I've been lucky enough to pass on the work and can enjoy the the actual holidays much more.  I'm blessed to have four daughters who love all the hustle and bustle, in spite of full time jobs and families.

When my girls were growing up, I vowed never to make holidays stressful by insisting that, once they were married or on their own, Thanksgiving Day or Christmas Day were mandatory family get-togethers.  While I never experienced the problems caused when families play tug-of-war over who grown children and their children will spend a holiday with, I saw friends and relatives struggle with it to the point of very heated arguments.  Instead of celebrating the holiday by the exact date on the calendar, we get together on a different evening or weekend.  We tried the "dinner at his family early, then dinner with our family later," but it didn't work.  Now we simply set aside a separate time for "us."  Stress is reduced, and there's no hard feelings to deal with, not to mention that the family is together, and that's what's important.

In spite of passing on what I tell myself is the bulk of holiday chores, there are still some things that I haven't managed to escape.  Making the turkey and a traditional cake for Christmas comes to mind.  Of course I still spend time shopping for the gifts I give, but the tree decorating and wrapping have been taken over by my youngest daughter, who, unlike me, enjoys both.  For me, that's what holidays should be.  Enjoyable.  They shouldn't be a time when we beat ourselves up because we ran out of time to do something that would only be missed by us.  Therefore, I now live by two holidays rules

1. KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid)
2. Delegate

In spite of all that, I still end up coordinating and reminding the others.  I'm sure they could do it without me.  I believe strongly in traditions and how important they are, but I've also looked back at my own life and realized that traditions constantly adjust to the changes in life.  Don't sweat it, embrace it.

Wishing everyone the happiest, stress-free holidays, filled with love and laughter and joy!

Celebrating Women

Today the collective voice of women is being heard around the world, celebrating the progress we have made over the years.  At the same time, we in the U.S. celebrate the 101st birthday of Women's Right to Vote.  We are proud and grateful to those who went before us and fought to give us a voice.

We are women, hear us roar.

We are no longer the silent partners of men.  Every day, the voice of women is being heard, and one of the most powerful ways it is heard is through romance novels.

According to RWA (Romance Writers of America):

• Romance fiction generated $1.358 billion in sales in 2010.
• 8,240 new romance titles were released in 2010.
• Romance fiction sales are estimated at $1.368 billion for 2011.
• 74.8 million people read at least one romance novel in 2008. (source: RWA Reader Survey)
(source: Business of Consumer Book Publishing 2011)

Those statistics are nothing to ignore or deride. Romance novels, whether contemporary, historical, suspense, inspirational, paranormal, or any of many sub-genres, outsell every other fiction genre. Be proud, whether you write or read (or both!) romance.

 As romance writers, our job is to show that women are as individual as snowflakes. But whether blonde, brunette, redhead, white, black, brown, tall or short, they share one thing in common.  Our heroines prove over and over that love really can conquer all.  Our heroines' strength is a reflection of our own and lives in our souls and in our hearts.  We are the mothers, the sisters, the grandmothers, the daughters, the friends.  Without us, there would be no tomorrow.

Be proud.  Roar.

There is in every true woman's heart, a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but which kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity. - WASHINGTON IRVING, The Sketch Book

LIFE’S TOO SHORT TO WEAR UGLY UNDERWEAR by Reese Mobley

Wait. Wait. Waaaaaait. Hold those itchy trigger fingers and don’t click away from this site. This is not one of the web pages your momma warned you about. This is WARA’s writing blog and our topic this month has to do with writing problems. Still confused about the title? Double check the color of your undies, (hot pink with white and yellow daisies) grab something cold to drink (iced tea) and let me explain.

My biggest struggle when it comes to writing is myself. There. I said it. I feel like a huge weight has been shifted from my shoulders to this page. Please understand that I’m not apologizing. I’m just admitting it to you, the faithful readers, writers and otherwise curious title pursuers.

My motto is and always will be that if you get a chance to do something or see something really cool and extraordinary then you have an obligation to yourself to do it. There are some experiences that only come around once and I don’t want to miss anything. We only get one shot at this life and I want to make the most of it. I go and I do until my calendar is full and my checkbook is empty.

As a writer, I’m curious by nature and I’m not claiming to live like Indiana Jones. Not everything I do is movie-worthy but it is vital to who I am. I recently lost a very good friend to a tragic accident. She was only 33. Her death made me realize how very short and precious our time is. We should all live like today could be our last day.

How do I strike a balance? Make time for everything I want to do with everything I have to do? I’m not sure. I celebrate a milestone birthday in a few months—gasp—and I wanted to have this current WIP finished by then. I have a long way to go but I’m going to try. It’s important. I will find a compromise between where I am now and where I want to be.

So, tell me. If life is so short why would you want to waste a single day wearing ugly underwear? Pull out the good ones. The colorful ones that make you secretly happy when you wear them. The ones that make you feel like you can conquer the publishing world. I know that’s asking a lot from a pair of undergarments, but hey, you gotta start somewhere. You owe it to your manuscript but most importantly, you owe it to yourself.

Hugs,

Reese

A Quick Note (Rox Delaney)

Reese is busy with family visiting for a couple of weeks, so she's been excused from blogging this month. I'm going to miss her usual humor, but family is much more important.

Our blog turned two years old on Friday!  For all the WARA members who have participated during that time, pat yourselves on the back and have some chocolate!  And thanks to all of our visitors for stopping in over the past two years, too. You've made our blog even more special. ☺

Not only is this month the blog birthday, but it's also WARA's anniversary.  We'll be celebrating it at our next meeting on April 10, so there's a lot for us to be thankful for this month.  Here's hoping April is a great month for everyone! 

Traditions (Rox Delaney)

This has been the month when traditions seem to really begin to settle in.  For some, Halloween kicks off the season that quickly slides into Thanksgiving, and then rushes off to into Christmas and end of the year celebrations.  Is it any wonder we find ourselves exhausted?

My memories of some things reach back to when I was three years old.  (Funny how I can't remember what happened two days ago!)  It's been almost six decades since I was that age, so I've seen traditions shift and change, many times.  I expect to continue to watch them for a few more years.

My earlier blog post this month was about Thanksgivings (and Christmases) when I was a child and visiting my great-aunts' homes for the holidays.  Those traditions lasted through my high school years, although we did move closer and didn't have to drive what I'd thought as a child was hours and hours.  But as the elders of the family began to pass away, and those my age began to grow into adults, new traditions were made.  I married, and my husband's family attended Thanksgiving at his aunt and uncle's house.  Each year we went there, along with my parents, who had been invited, since I was their only child.  I still missed my cousins, but I was a grown-up and fell into those grown-up ways, taking my own prepared dishes to share with husband's family.

Trouble brewed in the family, and we stopped going to his aunt and uncle's, and we no longer spent the holidays with his family.  My mother brought the turkey to our house in the big electric roaster, and I fixed the rest of Thanksgiving dinner.  By that time we had three small daughters, so the table was full.  Even after my dad's death, we continued with this "new" tradition.

Along came a divorce, meaning more major changes. My mother still fixed the turkey, but holiday meals were with my grown and nearly grown children and often included their friends, female and male.  Add one granddaughter to the mix, and the family grew.  Add two more, and two husbands, and we expanded even larger.  I started making the main dishes, and daughters filled in with others.  My mother has been gone for a couple of Thanksgivings, and we've again shifted traditions to suit our growing family.  There's now me, four daughters, two sons-in-law, one SO/fiance, five grandkids and one step-granddaughter.  Sometimes we get together for our dinner late on Thanksgiving evening.  Some years we've enjoyed our dinner on Saturday.  This year we happened to do it on Thanksgiving afternoon.  What a novel idea!  And this year, one son-in-law offered to fry a turkey.  It was so good, I think I'll pass the turkey job to him from now on! 

The one thing I learned along the way, and I'm sure others here have to, was to not make my daughters feel they must spend their holidays with me.  We always manage to find a time when we can all be together, even if one or two can only make late dessert.  Our guessing game of where and when we'll have dinner has actually become a new tradition!  And I'm sure there'll be more. 

Blessings to everyone during this holiday season, and I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!!

Gingerbread Houses and Family Memories

One of my favorite memories at Thanksgiving time involves a tradition my sister started when her kids were toddlers. On the day after Thanksgiving we make gingerbread houses. Usually the participants include my sister (Tami), her two kids (Ashley and Chris), me (biggest kid of all), my daughter (Angie), and sometimes our youngest brother (Pat). Angie flies back for Thanksgiving, and again for Christmas. I think sometimes she would be okay without this traditional time of making a HUGE mess, but she tolerates it because the rest of us love it.

Personally, I'm glad this tradition is also traditionally done at my sister's house. When we started this amazingly messy annual project, Tami used to make all of the gingerbread and Pat, Angie and I would cut the pieces. Then, if we were really lucky, the pieces would bake without burning and we would get them to the table without breaking them...at least too many of them. The last few years we've moved on to buying the kits. Although we only use pieces of the kits. We add a ton of candy and other stuff not included. Basically, we still make a huge mess.

But, mess or not, we have a great time doing this. There are smiles all around, good-natured teasing, and just a lot of love shared. We've thought about stopping now that Tami's "kids" are 13 and 15...but they keep wanting to do it. And I certainly don't want to grow up and stop having all this fun.

The photo included is from 9 years ago. Ashley is the round-faced redhead. The blonde is my pride and joy, Angie. Oh, I forget...now that she is grown up and a professional career person, she goes by Angela. Except to her mother, who refuses to adapt.

SLICE OF LIFE by Reese

Don’t you love this time of year? The colors of the leaves. The crispness in the air. The football blaring from the television and the start of Kansas University basketball. This year Thanksgiving dinner will be at my home. That means I will shop, clean, chop, bake, peel, sauté, roast, baste and mash for nine of us. A relativity small group, but still a special one. I have a table that easily seats twelve and a dining room that will be bursting at the seams but that’s okay. Everyone is welcome in our home.

I’ll be up at the crack of dawn, tying on my apron, baking pecan and pumpkin pies, preparing the turkey and rolling out homemade noodles for the noon meal. My family will each bring their speciality dish to make the meal complete and then everyone divides up the leftovers for a repeat dinner the next day. Does it seem fair that we’ll work for hours in the kitchen to sit down and stuff ourselves in a matter of minutes? Probably not, but sooooo worth it. The men will then move to the living room to watch the Cowboys play and catch a few zzzzzs. The women will do the dishes and then, if it’s not too cool, we’ll head outside to sit around the fire pit on the patio. Archaic traditions I know, but it is what it is and I wouldn't change a thing about it.

Late afternoon, dessert will be served and then everyone will leave. I’ll finally take time to read the paper and scour the ads for the Black Friday bargains I plan to get up early for. I look forward to this all year. (Those of you that know me will not be the least bit surprised by this admission.) With list in hand and game plan in mind, my mom and I sneak out before 5:00 am to join the masses of other idiots, in the dark, in search of deals too good to pass up.

Simple traditions but still very near and dear to my heart. So, from my home to yours may your blessings be many and your troubles be few.
Happy Thanksgiving.

Hugs, Reese

Sparklers, black cats and rockets galore

Pat Davids here.
I don't know about you, but my family is into Independence Day fireworks in a big, big way.
Not the ones you see on T.V. or even the ones that the city puts on. Nope. The Stroda family (my maiden name) puts on a private show that rivals the pros.
Now we weren't always crazy about fireworks.

When I was growing up it was the usual Black Cats, sparklers and Roman candles. My dad would light one of those stinky old cigars and it would burn forever with my brothers sneaking an occasional puff. It's glowing red tip was perfect for lighting our firecrackers. I shudder to think of all the hazards my four brothers and I skimmed by without a single accident. God was watching out for us.

As we got older, the fun died away. We went to see the big city displays and didn't bother to light our own little sparklers. Somehow, the whole event became too noisy and crowded to really enjoy. Until...

Enter my soon to be son-in-law. When Tony joined the family we got a really nice guy, a professional clown with his own magic show and unicycle (talk about cool parties) and a guy who loves fireworks. I mean loves fireworks. He's a bit of a pyromaniac. The only thing holding Tony back from putting on a dazzling 4th of July celebration of his own was the fact that he lived in a city that didn't allow fireworks within the city limits.

But my daughter has grandparents who live on a farm. In the middle of nowhere--where almost any type of fireworks is allowed or at least ignored as long as there isn't a burn ban in effect. Over the years Tony's celebration of all things that go bang has grown to include all my brothers and their families, even neighbors have opted out of the town fireworks to come out to Dad's farm for the big show. The kids have traveled two hundred miles to get the "big stuff" over the state line and bring it back. Everyone in the family contributes to the staggering pile of gunpower filled canisters waiting to illuminate the night sky for our delight. Golly we have fun.

The whole things doesn't always go off without a hitch, mind you. Twice we've been rained out. Once, because of a custody battle with my daughter's ex, my grandson couldn't be there for the 4th. No problem. We moved the whole celebration to Labor Day so Josh could enjoy it with us. I think that was my favorite Independence Day. He felt so special because we saved everything so that he could be there.

Now, the whole thing is noisy and crowded and I love every minute of it because it's become a family affair. Cross your fingers and pray it doesn't rain us out this year. I've got a trunk full of firecrackers in my car.

Tell us about your Independence Day celebrations. What will you and your family be doing this holiday weekend?