Cat Adams's Blog, page 14

VISITING DIGNITARY -- RACHEL CAINE

GUYS, I WANT YOU TO WELCOME NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR RACHEL CAINE, a wonderful author and dear friend, whose Revivalist, Weather Warden books and Morganville Vampire Series are great MUST read books.    SHE SO ROCKS.  Trust me on this.(APPLAUSE)
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THE GAME OF CONCENTRATION
Two weeks ago, I was happily immersed in deadlines. I know that sounds contradictory, right? Deadlines are HELL, ask any working writer ... they eat our time and warp our lives around them like black holes. You can almost hear us complaining as we disappear over the event horizon: DAMN YOUUUUUUU DEEEEEAAAAADDDDLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN ... but we never get to the last "E" because of the time distortion.
Anyway.
Happily immersed in deadlines. I finished edits on the second Revivalist novel, TWO WEEKS' NOTICE; I also did proof check on BLACK DAWN, the 12th Morganville Vampires novel coming out in May 2012. And then on February 1, I popped my head up out of my little foxhole, thinking I would take a short breather before diving into the next book, due Very Soon Indeed. I was looking forward to some rest and relaxation.
And the pile-on began.
Like, home repair. Some of you may remember my Great Squirrel Invasion of Ought Six, where squirrels chewed through my giant-sized, multi-level roof and set up their own playgrounds, parks, and condominiums, and were evicted only with great effort. Well, this turns out to be Invasion 2: Bigger and Better! Because this time, they brought their friends: Birds. Rats. Raccoons. Oh, and sappers, because we had possums and armadillos digging under our foundation, too.
This is what happens when you have four or five books a year, plus travel: you really don't do those property walk-arounds like you should to make sure everything's cool with the trim and roof and foundation. Nah, you say to yourself, it's fine, and I have another deadline, so it'll wait.
Indeed. UNTIL IT DOESN'T. Which is now, for me. As I write this, there is yelling, hammering, singing, loud music, sawing, and a very nice repairman looking in my window and waving as he replaces rotted soffit under the eaves of my house.
And yes, I've been writing while this is going on. It will go on another full week, after which we will have another set of contractors coming to fix even more issues. Deadlines don't stop coming for these things.
I laugh a little bit when I hear would-be writers say they can't write unless conditions are completely right, because this is how life is, at least for most writers I know ... a continuous parade of distractions that attempt to keep them from doing the work. We're especially vulnerable to it because we're working "at home" generally -- a condition that leads to family interruptions, soliciting phone calls, deliveries, friends dropping in, and a thousand other reasons not to write. It's dead easy to find a convenient distraction ... my construction example is extreme, but the fact is that you can make your own distractions even if none exist. Tile to be grouted. Something you just HAVE to watch on TV. Etc.
But as a writer, the job is to somehow ignore your way through all of that and come out the other side, with words. Good words. 
Excuse me for a sec ...
Back now. My construction guy rapped on the window and asked me if I was a writer or something. I said I was. He wanted to chat about how he'd always wanted to be a writer but never found the time. I told him you never find the time, because time isn't just laying around ... you cut the time out of your schedule, every day. Then I apologized, put my headphones on, and sat back down to finish this blog.
Concentration, see?
I haven't done really well on my concentration these two weeks. My immediate family had, in no particular order, construction, a fire, a flooded apartment, doctor appointments, hair appointments, hospital visits, surgery consultations, surgery, refinancing of the house, another surgery, dental appointments, meetings with producers, and a reptile show. 
And a near miss with death.
On Friday a few days ago I was heading home after a day of running errands, sitting at a major stoplight, when a giant crane truck bulled through the intersection at right angles to me, crane raised, and took out light poles, traffic lights, and about a ton of high-voltage wires. Transformers exploded like bombs. In the chaos, something hit my car, and at first I thought it was the light pole ... but no, it was LIVE HIGH VOLTAGE WIRES, draped over the roof and across the driver's side and passenger doors. 
And my very first thoughts were, (a) wow, I can use this in a book! then (b) dammit, if I die now, I'll never get to finish writing BITTER BLOOD. Okay, my third thought was (c) how do I get out of here? ... but it was definitely third in line.
After 20 minutes on the phone with 911 (I suspect they thought I try to grab a live wire), the Arlington Fire Department pushed the cables off my car, and I was finally able to escape my brush with doom. While sitting there, I saw one of the most interesting, yet appalling, demonstrations of concentration I've ever seen ... a BMX bike rider raced down the street and effortlessly jumped through the obstacle course of all of the hissing, sparking downed wires. Never even slowed down.
Now THAT'S concentration. I think it was a great visual example of what we all have to do as writers: avoid those potentially lethal distractions that could ground us.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to concentrate. Noise-cancelling headphones full power!
-- Rachel Caine

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

Happy Valentine's Day folks.  This is one of those holidays people either love or hate.  I do not have a Valentine this year, so I am looking forward to chocolates being on sale tomorrow rather more.  LOL.

HOWEVER, in honor of the holiday (and in hopes that your love life is moving along more swimmingly than my own) we are having something special going on at the forums.  (Forums?  You have FORUMS?  When did this happen?!!!) (Yes, we have forums.  Go forth and foray.  There will be a link at the bottom of this post.)

There are two surveys up and one winner will be chosen from the replies to each.  Prize is an autographed book and a RomCom DVD.

#1 - Who should Celia end up with?

#2 - Who is your favorite Sazi of all time?

Again, foray into the forums forthwith!

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/board/forumdisplay.php?f=1054

VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL TOMORROW

Tomorrow, in honor of Valentine's Day we'll be doing some fun stuff at the forums.  ("Forums?  You have forums?" Why YES we do.  And in the morning I will post a link and further information.  STAY TUNED!

Cie

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial - Who in the @#$*& is Boone Carter?

Who in the @#$^ is Boone Carter?
Chapter Whatever


It took a few phone calls to find them.  They were registered at the Hyatt.  No surprise.  Jacob (and I had a sinking feeling it really was Jacob) likes to go in style.  He justifies it by saying that a cheap hotel is the fastest way to scare of a high dollar mark.  And yes, he does call them marks.  Just not to their face, of course.

My stomach was roiling as I picked up my keys and headed down to the truck.  I needed to go see for myself. . . needed to be sure.  But I didn't want to. 

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The word kept running through my mind like an obscene mantra.  My past, the past I'd run so far and fast from, looked to finally have caught up with me. 

I shook myself.  "Stop it Carter.  Stop now.  You're not a fifteen year old kid any more.  You're a man.  If it's Jacob, you'll deal with it, and him."  It was true.  I'd grown up in the years since I'd left, and not just physically.  Still, I couldn't help but remember that last night.

It had been cold.  Damned cold.  Cold enough that the hairs in your nose froze when you took a breath.  I was supposed to be in bed, but I couldn't sleep.  Sara, the love of my life, was in labor.  Not my baby.  Nope.  I wasn't old enough to be given a wife, and she was too pretty for them to leave her alone until I was.   Never mind that it was what we both wanted.  It was irrelevant.  The only people whose wants were important were Abe and his oldest son, Jacob.  So she was the youngest wife of Abraham himself.   It was supposed to be a big f'ing honor.  I know she wasn't honored, and I had spent the last year avoiding my 'spiritual leader' so that I didn't do or say something that would earn me an even worse beating than the last one.

A scream tore through the night, and through my soul.  Yeah, women in labor scream.  It happens.  But this . . . this was Sara, and it was wrong, worse somehow.  Casting a furtive glance to make sure none of the men on guard could see me I crept up to the window.  Using my sleeve I wiped a clear spot on the part of the glass that wasn't iced over. 

Sara was on the bed, her eyes closed.  There was blood.  So much blood.  Something was wrong.  I heard my mother whispering urgently to Jacob's mother, Miriam.  "She needs a hospital.  We're going to lose them both."

"You know better than that.  She's underage.  No hospital."

"Talk to him.  You have to at least try.  She'll die."

Miriam shook her head, her lips compressed tightly.  Looking at her I saw . . . something in her expression.  Grim satisfaction.  Sara was lovely, and young, and had been a favorite of Abraham.  The older woman might not kill her outright, but she'd be glad to see her dead, glad not to have to share her husband with a smart-mouthed slip of a girl.

My mother saw it too.  Her eyes blazed in anger.  Fast as a snake her hand shot up.  She slapped Miriam hard enough to send her stumbling into the wall. 

"Bitch."  Abraham's wife had a bright red handprint on one side of her face and blood at the corner of her mouth.  "You'll pay for that."  She stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.  Even from where I stood I could hear the bolt shoot home.

My mother wasted no time.  She scrambled over to the window, unlocked it and pulled it open.  "Come, quickly.  We don't have much time."

Saturday Evening Post/From Thursday On

Okay, it's Thursday.  But I'm going to schedule this for Saturday, and will edit it UNTIL Saturday, so that the previous Visiting Dignitary blog has time to stew and get comments.  Although, honestly, I think it probably has as many as it's going to get.

Today is the first day of my vacation.  Yes, a real vacation.  No travel.  No conference.  No nuthin.  I'm resting folks.  I've been stressed out of my mind for a while now (to the point where I was having muscle twitches in my left eye -- made me look like I was winking at strangers.  Uh, SO no.).  So I'm off until Tuesday and trying to relax.  Yeah, I'm doing stuff.  But in spurts.

Like today I've actually accomplished a bunch.  But I don't feel bad about it.  In no particular order:

1)  Got the mower fixed. (Shout out to Keith's Ace Hardware for a job well done).
2)  Got the front yard mowed.  (Back needs weed whacked first since it's almost hip deep.)
3)  Did 2 interviews/blogs.
4)  Found out from a friend where she gets her bags.  Went online there and found the bags I want to order for The Intergalactic Bar and Grille. (and was treated to punch and birthday cake in the process).
5) Cleaned out the litter boxes.
6) Answered the questions on the Visiting Dignitary Blog
7) Tweeted and Facebooked. 
8) Prayed. 
9) Scheduled Visiting Dignitary interviews and sent out questions.

And now I'm done.  Pooped.  Ready to recreate in some VERY sedentary way. 

Toodles.

A Confession

Okay guys, I'm about to confess something.

I'm getting old. 

Or maybe stodgy. 

Or both.

But I am not hugely comfortable with x rated writing.  I'm  NOT talking about romance, or the average sex scene.  Sex is a part of life.  None of us would be here without it.  What people want to do in the privacy of their own bedrooms (or on the kitchen table, shower, floor, or washing machine with the drapes drawn) is none of my business.  No, what makes me uncomfortable is the very detailed and very sensual, multi partner, multi-creature, whatever.   I'm okay with consenting adults doing what they want and have negotiated between them.  But I don't want to read about it.

So sue me.

I don't care how brilliantly you write (in fact, the more brilliant you are the more uncomfortable I'll get -- consider it a compliment if you will).  It's not my bag. 

LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of people love that sort of thing.  I am happy for them.  They are not me.  So while I have friends and acquaintances who write brilliant erotica, I don't read it.  Love them.  Wish them good things.  But their work is not going to be on my bookshelves.

There are people who think that to be wildly successful you have to be seriously erotic, that it's what the audience wants.  It's what part of the audience wants.  But I think there are plenty of folks out there who skip past the sex scenes to get back to the plot.  I could be wrong.  But I don't think I am.

I am not meaning to be judgmental.  There are other things I don't read too.  Frankly a lot of "literature" bores me out of my mind.  I am the girl that, when forced in high school to write a report on something written by Nathaniel Hawthorne (because the modern book I wrote my first report on was considered too "easy" by my teacher,) I read 4 (yep) 4 Nathaniel Hawthorne books because I couldn't find one I didn't loathe.  I wound up writing a report on The Scarlet Letter because I ran out of time and it was the one I hated least.  I still remember clearly not being able to FIND the first chapter in one of the books because the prologue was so long.  One (possibly the same, I've blocked the traumatic memory from my mind) went on for four or six pages about the fabric (green velvet) in the drapes in the room, so that I had to page back and find out what the character had walked into the room FOR.  It was an exercise in frustration which I don't care to repeat.

Everybody gets to have their own personal preferences.  If we all were exactly alike the world wouldn't run right, and would be a very boring place indeed.  I am religious.  But I don't think that's the issue.  It's a matter of taste.  I like broccoli, I detest spinach.  That sort of thing. 

I do hope that this is not going to lead to a lot of hostility.  But I figured I'd be up front about this.

Have a wonderful day.

Cie

VISITING DIGNITARY/C.T. ADAMS

Hi Guys!  It's me.

Yep.  Me.  I am going to open the comments up for questions from the audience, but until then, I figure I'd give ya'll a little more of a glimpse into this side of the partnership.  So at the risk of sounding schizoid/all MPD, here we go.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

I've wanted to write since I first learned to read.  In fact, until my water heater went out last year and flooded out the garage I still had files with things I'd written back to grade school.  They were hideous of course.  But the drive was there.

Who are some of  your favorite authors?

There are too many to count, really.  And it really depends on my mood.  Sometimes I will be looking for humor, or a good mystery, or a thriller, or an urban fantasy.  Whichever I want will determine my favorite of the moment.  Still, I can always count on Jim Butcher, Dick Francis, Robert B. Parker, Rachel Caine, Dorothy Parker, Agatha Christie, Charlaine Harris, Shannon Butcher, Janet Evanovich.  I re-read my early Laurell K. Hamilton books frequently and am still amazed at her creativity and skill as a writer.  The worldbuilding is absolutely amazing, and it set the stage for an entirely new genre.  How cool is that?!

Which of the books you've worked on was the hardest?

The hardest was Howling Moon of the Sazi.  It was originally the first book, but it didn't get published first, and we kept dropping hints in other books that led back to it.  But that meant that when it finally DID get re-written (to accommodate all of those changes) the time line was INSANE.  We had a chart with where some of the main characters of the Sazi series were at any given time in 15 minute increments to make sure nobody was in two places, and that we weren't asking them to do the impossible.  UGH.

Which was the easiest?

Every once in a while you'll get a book that just races through your brain and out your fingers.  Touch of Madness (in the Kate Reilly/Thrall series) was like that.  MAGIC.

You haven't been to a lot of signings or conferences the past couple of years.  Why?

Real life has been a little intense the past two years.  Not bad, but definitely busy.  Also, Cathy and I both have a day job -- in the SAME OFFICE.  So it isn't always feasible for us to both be off at the same time.  BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS we have a couple of signing events coming up shortly and each of us will be going to a couple of conferences this year.  So there's a good chance of you seeing either or both of us soon.  Keep an eye out, check the Newsletter and the website for details.

Do you listen to music when you write?

Sometimes.  But more often I run into something that inspires me, then write after in silence.  Sometimes there will be a song that just GETS to me and shows me an insight to a specific character, or opens up inspiration on a whole new world.  Avril Lavigne's "I'm With You" (written by
Christy,Lauren; Spock, Scott; Edwards, Graham; Lavigne, Avril Ramona) inspired a YA series that I'm preparing a proposal on, but current responsibilities have kept me from actually being able to write the silly thing all the way through.  There was an Evanescence song that captured Celia's sense of loss at Vicki's death perfectly for me, and another, "Because of You" by Kelly Clarkson that really hit me as to the damage done to her children by Lana Graves' alcoholism.  Do you have a favorite character?  Who would you want to be stuck on a desert island with?I have lots and lots of favorites.  Don't make me choose!What bit of advice would you give prospective authors?Work hard.  Work consistently.  Keep working when you're tired and think there's no chance.  Know that there will be golden moments, and leaden moments, but that it's all part of the process.  You may not succeed if you try, but you will DEFINITELY fail if you don't.  So try.  And keep trying.  Okay -- now everybody else ask your questions.  Since it's Wednesday, and I'm at the day job, you'll have to wait until after 5:00 for your answers, but I WILL answer.  And one lucky winner will get an autographed copy of both Howling Moon (because it was mentioned above as the hardest) and Touch of Madness (because it was mentioned above as the easiest).Cie

Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial/Boone Carter

Who in the Hell is Boone Carter?

There were no marks on the truck when I walked up to it.  Apparently Trey had made it the few blocks from the apartment to the job site without incident.   Oh happy days.  I was climbing into the cab when Joe stopped yelling at the delivery truck driver and started heading my way, but Darlene's shout from the top step of the trailer stopped him halfway across the yard.  He gave me a hard glare, I gave him a cheery wave in response.  Petty?  Childish?  Hell yeah.  But it put a smile on my face even bigger than the healthy stack of Benjamins in my pocket.

I drove back to the apartment.  I wanted to put most of the money away.  One of the fastest ways to blow through cash is to keep it in your pocket.  It's just too easy to see something you've been wanting and think "what the hell."  Whereas, if you have to go home and get the money, or get it out of the bank, you may think twice about whether or not you really want it that bad.  Trey says I'm tightfisted.  Sometimes.  But when you've actually gone hungry you like having a bit of a safety net.

I parked the truck in my usual spot on the corner, next to the big old flowerbed filled with roses.  I ducked automatically when I walked past the front of the truck.  Mrs. Cunningham installed the security light a little low on the fence and I have to be careful not to bean myself on the noggin when I go past it.   Since she's about four foot nothing, even standing on her little four-step stool she couldn't reach high enough to keep it out of my way.  I would've put it up for her, but she didn't ask.   And hey, other than it being a little low, she did a great job.  The thing works like a champ too.  Lights up the whole yard bright as day. 

As I unlocked the front door I heard herquerulous voice raised loud enough to be heard over the blaring television.  "Mr. Carter?  Is that you?  What're you doing home this time of day?  You didn't go and get yourself fired from that job did you?"  She didn't come to the door, didn't need to.  She had the old parlor door that was now the door to her living room wide open.  I could see her perched on the edge of her old floral couch sucking on a cigarette as she watched "The Price is Right."

"No ma'am.  Boss just has me working a special project today.  I needed to get something from the house."

"All right then.  You just make sure you don't lose that job.  I expect my rent money first of the month.  No excuses!"

"No ma'am."  I agreed.  I've never been late with the rent, never made any excuses.  But it didn't matter.  Someone, some time, had, and everyone since has had to pay for it.  I walked pass the open door up the stairs and let myself into the apartment.  Closing and locking the door behind me I went into my bedroom. 

It was the work of a moment to pull a phillips screwdriver from the drawer of the battered nightstand next to the bed I used it to take off the ornate metal grill of the heat vent from the old furnace.  There, hidden right where I left it, was one of those small fire and waterproof cash boxes I'd picked up at the office supply store.  Not the best hiding place in the world, but better than nothing.  And I'd both screwed and glued it down, so a thief would have to work at getting it loose.  I didn't think that Trey knew about the safe.  We have a standing agreement about not going into each other's bedrooms.  Still, I'm careful.  I trust him, don't think he'd steal from me.  But why tempt him?

The box opened easily with a turn of the right key from the ring in my pocket.  There was already a fair amount of money in there.  Added to what I had in my pocket I had enough that I could make a good downpayment on a new truck and buy a big screen tv.  But then my insurance would go up, and I'd have to pay for cable.  And Trey's brothers would be parking their asses on the couch every weekend wanting to watch the game.  Nah.  Better to have the cash.  That way if it was Jacob I'd have enough cash to pick up stakes and move. 

Only I didn't want to.

Damn it anyway!  I liked my life here.  I glanced around the bedroom.  This place wasn't much, but I liked it:  the turret windows gave a great view of most of the neighborhood.  The wood floors were easy to keep clean.  Mrs. Cunningham was a nosy old bat, but she took good care of the place.

Maybe it wasn't Jacob.  Or maybe he'd left the Children of Abraham.  Maybe the whole group had broken apart when Abe got sent up the river.

Lot of maybes there.  Any one of them could be true.

But I didn't think so.

Only one way to find out.  I retrieved the battered old phone book from my bookshelves and sat on the edge of the bed.  Time to start investigating.

SCHTOOF/THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

I am up on a Saturday morning (for the Saturday Evening Post) trying to make sure that life goes a little more according to plan.  Unh hunh.  RIGHT.  LOL.

Life is BUSY.  We have a release coming out in March.  I really NEED to do a bunch of promo stuff.  But I'm snowed under and my head is a little foggy from stress. 

Still, WE HAVE A BOOK COMING OUT NEXT MONTH.  Sometimes I need to remind myself amidst all the hubub just how freaking cool my life is.  I mean, seriously.  I've wanted to be an author since I was FOUR YEARS OLD.  I'm writing books.  They're getting published.  People actually (GASP) LIKE them.  (Maybe not as MANY people as I'd like, but hey, I'm working on it.)

We also got the prospective cover for the next one and it SOOOOOO rocks. 

But today I'm in the trenches.  I'm updating the release calendar, editing the personal website for the big release that I WANTED to do in January, but didn't get done.  (I'm thinking of doing it in March with a big launch called "MY March Madness" or "March Book Madness" with all kinds of promo during the month of March. 

I am looking at finding myself an assistant.  I am studying what I need to do for promotions.  And while I'm doing all that I'm doing laundry, and waiting for the sun to come up so I can mow the lawn.  The dog needs walked.  That's 15 minutes from now.  Oh, and I haven't eaten and need to.  My blood sugar gets wonky if I'm not careful.

ATTENTION BETA READERS FOR MY INDIVIDUAL WORK.  You know who you are.  Look for the e-mail from me on March 1.  I hope.  Barring disaster.

And because I've been told that blogs are more interesting with pictures I now give you a [not very good, but he's a beautiful cat] photo of Gonzo.  :)

VISITING DIGNITARY SAHARA KELLY (APPLAUSE)

Welcometo the blog.  Sahara Kelly is a well known (and much loved)author of erotic fiction.  A friend of Cie's from "TheFairie Court" it is a great pleasure to have her here for avisit.  Please give her a warm welcome. 
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Thanksso much for inviting me over, Cie. It's lovely spending some timewith you again – we had a lot of fun flitting around in our wings,didn't we? LOL

Iunderstand you have a fairly significant backlist.  Could yougive us a list (or link) of titles? 

Yes,somehow – over the last decade or so – I've managed to amassnearly sixty books with my name on 'em. About 30 or so in print. Notsure how that happened, and I'm not going to list them all (sigh ofrelief, right?) but there's a complete list on my website. I've triedto sort most of them by genre, but it's a bit daunting. LOL [image error]

Whenwere you first published?
I'malways surprised to realize it's been over 25 years sinceKensington/Zebra published my first book. It was a sweet Regency andcame out two months before my son was born. After that, my nextsubmissions were rejected and motherhood sort of took over my life.LOL I didn't get back to serious writing until around 2000.

Iunderstand you're originally from England.  Do you think thatinfluences your writing?  If so, how?

Iabsolutely believe that being born and raised in England hasinfluenced my work. My schooling emphasized literature and writingfrom the get-go, and I remember having to produce several essays aweek. Shakespeare was a staple and we digested Dickens, Thackeray,Defoe, Hardy, the Brontes and of course Miss Austen with regularity.That sort of education gave me a foundation and a love of words, andI think it's helped me an enormous amount when it comes to putting myown words on paper. (Or the monitor as the case may be. LOL)
Iunderstand you're dipping your toes into self-publishing.  Whatmade you decide to do that? 
Ithink it was time. When I got into ePublishing, it was a decade ago –a geological era in Internet time - and there was a "pioneering"spirit surrounding us. Editors were open to anything and everything,readers devoured whatever we wrote and genres could be taken out andshaken, or twisted into something new, at will. That environment haschanged…metamorphosed into today's climate of big business. Nowit's more about what sellsthan what wewant to write.


Iran out of patience, I guess. I've always been about writing what'sin my head and my heart, not what makes an impact on the bottom line.Conflict was inevitable and it drove me out of the pack and into thelone wolf mentality. Honestly? I love it. I feel as if I got my soulback. LOL I still have ties to ePublishing, and haven't walked awaycompletely. But overall it's working very well for me. My first threenovellas based around a fictitious Boston steampunk club continue todo well and are now in print as an anthology (Steampunk Seductions).
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Whatare some of the ups (and downs) of self-publishing versus traditionalpublishing?

Thereare both, that's for sure. The downs? Editing is a worry for many ofus. I'm lucky, since I have not only the Brit school system, but manyyears of working in an environment where I needed to write and editeffectively. (Not books, but scientific materials.) Cover art has tobe created – again I'm okay since I do freelance art when I'm notwriting. Biggest headache can be formatting for the various salesvenues, but with patience, even that can be accomplished.
Theups? The freedom to let the characters take shape as I wish. Toimagine a story and write it as I see it. To know that the finalproduct will reach my readers asI intendedit to be, not re-shaped or revised by others for purely fiscalreasons or because of someone else's opinions. I can write what I seein my imagination, which is what writing should be, IMHO. My booksare mineagain. It's a wonderful feeling.
Whattitles do you have coming out in 2012?  Would you mind if I addthem to my "Big list of 2012 books" on myindividual website?
I'dbe thrilled, Cie. Thank you! I have quite a few books on the drawingboard for 2012. I hope to get the final story out in my series ofromances based around Renaissance Faires – tentative title for Book3 is ROUGH KNIGHT and that is on sale right this minute. LOL. Thefirst two, ONE KNIGHT ONLY and KNIGHTS OF PLEASURE are alreadyavailable. They'll be bundled into the print anthology MYRENAISSANCE ROMANCE sometime late spring, I hope.
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ThenI'll switch gears and follow that with a rather decadently elegantnovel set in a palatial estate tucked away in the Italian Alps. Ilove the classy sensuality of the 1930s and am having so much funwith an insanely bizarre cast of characters. I like to think of thisone as a "Merchant and Ivory remake of Debbie Does Dallas, with ascript by Noel Coward and Hugh Hefner". LOL See why I'm having funputting out my own books? No publisher would touch that one! (grin) Title is tentatively VILLA D'AMORE. After that…well I'll have tosee who screams the loudest in my head.


Whatis one bit of advice you would give an aspiring writer?  (Andwould you mind if I add this to the "Craft Corner" advicespot on the website I share with my co-author, Cathy L. Clamp?)

I'dlove to be anywhere with you and Cathy! That's an enormous honor andcompliment!!!  There are two things I tell people when they ask for advice. First,read, read and read more. I'm a firm believer that the more books youread, regardless of topic, the better writer you become. You absorbthe "feel" of a story and the way it should flow, alongwith pacing, and it becomes second nature when it's your turn towrite your own novel.
Second…writeyour book.LOL Don't tell me you're thinkingabout it, or half way through your notes for it or have thiswonderful idea for a novel. Just write the damn book. Once it's real,thenyou can start messing with it. Sounds harsh, but you'd be surprisedhow many aspiring writers blink, look stunned and then say… "hey,yeah. Maybe I should do that." Duh. LOL
Solet me wrap up by thanking you, Cie, for the chance to chat with yourreaders andtalk a little about self-publishing, which is still in the mildlycontroversial phase. If anyone is curious, I welcome visitors to mypublishing website – www.skprivatelabel.com - and of course my writing website – www.saharakelly.com . I put out a newsletter on an irregular basis, which has book andcontest information, if I'm hosting one. If anyone would like to geton my list, they can subscribe here . For instant updates on my world, I have an app for iPhones andiPads – available at the App Store under "Sahara Kelly –Writer". Oh, and it's free.  Cool stuff. LOL

(I'dlove to giveaway a download of the three SteampunkSeduction novels…Letting Off Steam,Stripping Her Gearsand Winding HerUp. I'll letyou tell me how that will work because I SOOOO suck at this wholeblog process. I can offer all these stories in pdf format and acouple of others, ePub and so on.. I think. Gotta check that.LOLLOL)

Thanksso much for popping by.  Please stay in touch.