Julie Lence's Blog, page 13
October 27, 2011
When One Door Closes
It is with much sadness that I announce the closing of my publisher, Asylett Press. Due to illness, the publisher cannot continue in the same capacity as she has in the past. Words cannot begin to describe how heart-breaking this past week has been, except to say it's been a struggle to think positive. With all my heart, I do wish Sandra well and hope that she gets better each day. She is a kind and caring individual who took a chance on me way back when, and for that, I am truly grateful. It has been a pleasure working with her and learning from her.
One bright light in all of this has been the Asylett authors. We have been a close-knit group for the past six years and continue to support each other today. We are a family of unique and different people who, in the past, have shared in each other's ups and downs. This week we have all come together and lent our support and strength to help one another to get through this difficult time. In wondering about the future and the paths we would each take, one thing became clear; our bond will not be broken. We will keep our family together and continue to support each other and share in the good times and the bad. I am truly blessed to have these talented and wonderful people in my life.
The worry, the stress and the sadness from this past week are slowly starting wear off, as I look forward to new horizons. God willing, I'll be back in my comfort zone within a few short weeks. For now, I'm currently working on re-editing the Weston series so I can put them up for sale on Amazon, hopefully before the holiday season. I'm looking forward to new covers for these three books, as well as getting back to work on my outlaw series--that's my comfort zone. I really do miss my outlaw, Gage.
Until next time, God bless you and have a safe and Happy Halloween.
Julie
One bright light in all of this has been the Asylett authors. We have been a close-knit group for the past six years and continue to support each other today. We are a family of unique and different people who, in the past, have shared in each other's ups and downs. This week we have all come together and lent our support and strength to help one another to get through this difficult time. In wondering about the future and the paths we would each take, one thing became clear; our bond will not be broken. We will keep our family together and continue to support each other and share in the good times and the bad. I am truly blessed to have these talented and wonderful people in my life.
The worry, the stress and the sadness from this past week are slowly starting wear off, as I look forward to new horizons. God willing, I'll be back in my comfort zone within a few short weeks. For now, I'm currently working on re-editing the Weston series so I can put them up for sale on Amazon, hopefully before the holiday season. I'm looking forward to new covers for these three books, as well as getting back to work on my outlaw series--that's my comfort zone. I really do miss my outlaw, Gage.
Until next time, God bless you and have a safe and Happy Halloween.
Julie
October 12, 2011
SWAT Team at My House
Last month I sat down and decided on some topics for blogs. This week's blog was supposed to be about a day in the life of an 1800's rancher's wife. Then the SWAT team ventured into my back yard last week and the topic changed.
Tuesday morning started out as normal as could be. I got up, got dressed, got the kiddie ready for school and then saw a police car drive past my house. I didn't think anything of it, thought that he was merely patrolling the neighborhood. A few minutes later, I back out of the garage to take the kiddie to school and said police car is parked just past my driveway and has someone in a blue car pulled over. I think he caught someone speeding through the neighborhood and proceed to school, where along the way, I see another police car parked along the curb. Strange, but I still think nothing is the matter.
I drop the kiddie off and go back home. The police car is still parked alongside the curb. Hmmm.... wonder what he is doing. But I forget about him as I round the curve and approach home, where the first policeman now has the trunk and driver's door of the blue car open. Great--he's searching the car. I go inside and call the hubby, tell him what's happening. He says to stay inside, so I forget about walking the dog and get to work. Minutes later, the police car is now parked in front of my house, minus the blue car, and the officer is sitting behind the wheel. I think he's filling out paperwork. But then, minutes later, he's still there. Okay, something is up. But what?
Minutes later, my neighbor directly across the street calls and ask what's going on. I say, "Oh the police car in front of the house", which has now backed up past my driveway to where he first had the blue car pulled over. My neighbor, Steve says, "Not him. The other police cars two houses up from me. There are about seven of them." (Here I should mention that I live on a curve and cannot see the house he is referring to.) I tell Steve to call our other neighbor and ask him, because I saw him outside when I came home from school. Maybe he knows something and for Steve to call me back. A minute later, Steve calls back and says our neighbor is not answering the phone. I say I'll go over and see what's going on.
Crossing the street, I see the police car, and as I make my way to the porch of the neighbors house, I can see all of the police cars--unmarked. My neighbor's wife tells me they have been here all morning and are getting out their gear and guns. Interesting that I'm still calm. I go home, call Steve to let him know and then call the hubby. Again, he says stay inside. Then my other neighbor, Dora calls. Steve called her hubby, he called Dora and Dora calls me. So I tell her what I know and we get to gossiping about what could be happening and whose house they police are watching. Then I have Dora call our other neighbor because I do not have her telephone number.
Some time, not much, passes, and the hubby calls back. I have nothing to report, except I do ask him if he has the number to the people on the side of us. He'll look it up and call back. While he is looking up the number, I see Steve leave his house in his car. I wonder where he's going, and don't have to wonder for long. He calls and says he's going to work, to let him know if anything happens. I ask where is wife is and she's home. Then I see my other neighbor leave. The hubby calls back. He can't find the number to our other neighbor's. I say I'll go over when I see one of the police cars go down the street. Then another and then a third one. All unmarked cars, until the fourth one rolls past the house and stops. I'm still on the phone with the hubby, and see the officer get out and walk between our yard and the neighbors. My heart drops--is it our neighbors?
But no, the officer gets back in his car and drives off. The hubby says stay in the house. Heck no! I have to see where they are going.
Around the street behind us, I see them. Back in thehouse, I go upstairs to the back window where I see two SWAT men. Weapons are drawn and aimed at the house directly behind me. Not good. A 70 year old lady lives there with her son. The SWAT Team approach the house, stop about midway and then back up to their car. Two more cars are across the street from the house. Now, I'm worried about my neighbor getting hurt when all of a sudden it hits me--if bullets start flying or someone runs out the back door, my house and yard are closest for escape and bullet holes.
So, I get the dog, lock up and leave n the car. I go up the street, turn around and watch. I see some of the SWAT team getting out more gear, to include their big shields, and guns and start back down the street. I think I see a police car pull into my driveway. Because of the curve, I am not sure. I creep down the street to have a look and still can't see. So I back up, park and then see another SWAT man walking up the street, searching backyards with his weapon drawn and aimed. That's enough excitement for me. I leave and meet the hubby at Target, where he says he got in touch with the neighbors alongside of us. They are hiding out in their garage and will call when it's safe to come back.
About one p.m., Lorelle calls and says it is safe to come home. So the dog and I venture back, stoopping along the way to greet the neighbors out walking and checking out the police cars that are still here, along with all three news channels. Lorelle tells me the person the police were searching for was not in the house--thank goodness for my 70 year old neighbor. Luckily, she left the house early in the morning, the police stopped her and wouldn't allow her to go home.
The story ends with the police having found the person they searched for the next day at a different house. All is well and quiet by me, just the way I like it. Someone told me I have to put this story in a book, but who would believe me? I write western hstorical romance. Then again, if I substitue the cars for horses and the SWAT team for a posse, who knows?
To see a pic of the SWAT at my fence, visit me at Facebook. Have a great week!
Tuesday morning started out as normal as could be. I got up, got dressed, got the kiddie ready for school and then saw a police car drive past my house. I didn't think anything of it, thought that he was merely patrolling the neighborhood. A few minutes later, I back out of the garage to take the kiddie to school and said police car is parked just past my driveway and has someone in a blue car pulled over. I think he caught someone speeding through the neighborhood and proceed to school, where along the way, I see another police car parked along the curb. Strange, but I still think nothing is the matter.
I drop the kiddie off and go back home. The police car is still parked alongside the curb. Hmmm.... wonder what he is doing. But I forget about him as I round the curve and approach home, where the first policeman now has the trunk and driver's door of the blue car open. Great--he's searching the car. I go inside and call the hubby, tell him what's happening. He says to stay inside, so I forget about walking the dog and get to work. Minutes later, the police car is now parked in front of my house, minus the blue car, and the officer is sitting behind the wheel. I think he's filling out paperwork. But then, minutes later, he's still there. Okay, something is up. But what?
Minutes later, my neighbor directly across the street calls and ask what's going on. I say, "Oh the police car in front of the house", which has now backed up past my driveway to where he first had the blue car pulled over. My neighbor, Steve says, "Not him. The other police cars two houses up from me. There are about seven of them." (Here I should mention that I live on a curve and cannot see the house he is referring to.) I tell Steve to call our other neighbor and ask him, because I saw him outside when I came home from school. Maybe he knows something and for Steve to call me back. A minute later, Steve calls back and says our neighbor is not answering the phone. I say I'll go over and see what's going on.
Crossing the street, I see the police car, and as I make my way to the porch of the neighbors house, I can see all of the police cars--unmarked. My neighbor's wife tells me they have been here all morning and are getting out their gear and guns. Interesting that I'm still calm. I go home, call Steve to let him know and then call the hubby. Again, he says stay inside. Then my other neighbor, Dora calls. Steve called her hubby, he called Dora and Dora calls me. So I tell her what I know and we get to gossiping about what could be happening and whose house they police are watching. Then I have Dora call our other neighbor because I do not have her telephone number.
Some time, not much, passes, and the hubby calls back. I have nothing to report, except I do ask him if he has the number to the people on the side of us. He'll look it up and call back. While he is looking up the number, I see Steve leave his house in his car. I wonder where he's going, and don't have to wonder for long. He calls and says he's going to work, to let him know if anything happens. I ask where is wife is and she's home. Then I see my other neighbor leave. The hubby calls back. He can't find the number to our other neighbor's. I say I'll go over when I see one of the police cars go down the street. Then another and then a third one. All unmarked cars, until the fourth one rolls past the house and stops. I'm still on the phone with the hubby, and see the officer get out and walk between our yard and the neighbors. My heart drops--is it our neighbors?
But no, the officer gets back in his car and drives off. The hubby says stay in the house. Heck no! I have to see where they are going.
Around the street behind us, I see them. Back in thehouse, I go upstairs to the back window where I see two SWAT men. Weapons are drawn and aimed at the house directly behind me. Not good. A 70 year old lady lives there with her son. The SWAT Team approach the house, stop about midway and then back up to their car. Two more cars are across the street from the house. Now, I'm worried about my neighbor getting hurt when all of a sudden it hits me--if bullets start flying or someone runs out the back door, my house and yard are closest for escape and bullet holes.
So, I get the dog, lock up and leave n the car. I go up the street, turn around and watch. I see some of the SWAT team getting out more gear, to include their big shields, and guns and start back down the street. I think I see a police car pull into my driveway. Because of the curve, I am not sure. I creep down the street to have a look and still can't see. So I back up, park and then see another SWAT man walking up the street, searching backyards with his weapon drawn and aimed. That's enough excitement for me. I leave and meet the hubby at Target, where he says he got in touch with the neighbors alongside of us. They are hiding out in their garage and will call when it's safe to come back.
About one p.m., Lorelle calls and says it is safe to come home. So the dog and I venture back, stoopping along the way to greet the neighbors out walking and checking out the police cars that are still here, along with all three news channels. Lorelle tells me the person the police were searching for was not in the house--thank goodness for my 70 year old neighbor. Luckily, she left the house early in the morning, the police stopped her and wouldn't allow her to go home.
The story ends with the police having found the person they searched for the next day at a different house. All is well and quiet by me, just the way I like it. Someone told me I have to put this story in a book, but who would believe me? I write western hstorical romance. Then again, if I substitue the cars for horses and the SWAT team for a posse, who knows?
To see a pic of the SWAT at my fence, visit me at Facebook. Have a great week!
September 29, 2011
Aspens and Donkeys
Having grown up in New York, Autumn was always a special time of year. The leaves changing colors brought a vibrant array of red, orange and gold to the landscape. Mom and Dad would load us kids into the car and we'd venture to nearby farms for apples and cider donuts. Sometimes, we'd journey north. Sometimes we'd travel to the east or to the south. No matter the direction, I always enjoyed the color of the leaves.
When the hubby and I lived in New Jersey, we'd often visit our families in New York. I remember one such time, on our way back to New Jersey, the hubby and I strayed from the main highway and drove along the back roads to look at the changing leaves and to stop for apples and donuts. The trip took longer, but we had a great time and started our own tradition of taking a drive on an autumn day to see the changing leaves.
Here we are many years later and living out west. The Aspens are changing from green to bright yellow, with some red and orange and brown mixed in. The hubby and I loaded the kiddie into the car last weekend and took off for an afternoon drive through the Rocky Mountains. Driving up the pass, we went through Woodland Park and headed west to the road that winds along the back of Pikes Peak to Cripple Creek. For those who don't know, Cripple Creek is an old mining town from the 1800's. Some of the original saloons and buildings remain, most are casinos now, and there is still a working gold mine outside of town.
The drive was quiet and relaxing. Some of the Aspen were in bloom, offering a myriad of colors. Most were still green, but no matter what time of year, the scenery is always gorgeous. We entered Cripple Creek and decided to drive through town and pick up the road on the other side. Just as we passed the last casino and began to approach the outskirts of town, my son spotted a donkey beneath some trees. Looking out my window, I found there was more than one donkey and figured a nearby rancher had brought the donkeys to town for a special occasion. But then, on the hubby's side of the street, there was an open lot with more donkeys. A lady was feeding them. We decided to stop along the curb and take a video of her feeding the donkeys.
Getting out of the car, the first few donkeys the kiddie and I had seen decided they were hungry and, one by one, they began crossing the street to get to the lady. Now, this was a sight to see--donkeys crossing the road and motorists stopping to give them the right of way. One donkey took an interest in a parked car's bumper and after sniffing it, scratched his ear along the tail light--too cute! (Glad it wasn't my car.) After the donkeys had their fill of hay, they followed their leader--a grey donkey--to the next street over and disappeared around the corner of a building.
While watching this scene, a gentleman walking his dog approached. One of the donkeys stopped and eyed the little dog, but did nothing and continued on his way. I learned from the gentleman that the donkeys are wild and live in Cripple Creek. The citizens of Cripple Creek help take care of them and feed them. The donkeys know the lady with the hay. She is there almost every day to feed them, and motorists have to yield to the donkeys. It is believed that these donkeys are descendants from the donkeys that were left behind when the gold rush came to an end and the miners went back down the mountain. It's the first time since coming here in '93 that the hubby and I have ever seen the donkeys, and it sure made our day. As soon as I can get him, or the kiddie, to load the videos, you can view the donkeys on my FB page.
Happy Autumn everyone!
When the hubby and I lived in New Jersey, we'd often visit our families in New York. I remember one such time, on our way back to New Jersey, the hubby and I strayed from the main highway and drove along the back roads to look at the changing leaves and to stop for apples and donuts. The trip took longer, but we had a great time and started our own tradition of taking a drive on an autumn day to see the changing leaves.
Here we are many years later and living out west. The Aspens are changing from green to bright yellow, with some red and orange and brown mixed in. The hubby and I loaded the kiddie into the car last weekend and took off for an afternoon drive through the Rocky Mountains. Driving up the pass, we went through Woodland Park and headed west to the road that winds along the back of Pikes Peak to Cripple Creek. For those who don't know, Cripple Creek is an old mining town from the 1800's. Some of the original saloons and buildings remain, most are casinos now, and there is still a working gold mine outside of town.
The drive was quiet and relaxing. Some of the Aspen were in bloom, offering a myriad of colors. Most were still green, but no matter what time of year, the scenery is always gorgeous. We entered Cripple Creek and decided to drive through town and pick up the road on the other side. Just as we passed the last casino and began to approach the outskirts of town, my son spotted a donkey beneath some trees. Looking out my window, I found there was more than one donkey and figured a nearby rancher had brought the donkeys to town for a special occasion. But then, on the hubby's side of the street, there was an open lot with more donkeys. A lady was feeding them. We decided to stop along the curb and take a video of her feeding the donkeys.
Getting out of the car, the first few donkeys the kiddie and I had seen decided they were hungry and, one by one, they began crossing the street to get to the lady. Now, this was a sight to see--donkeys crossing the road and motorists stopping to give them the right of way. One donkey took an interest in a parked car's bumper and after sniffing it, scratched his ear along the tail light--too cute! (Glad it wasn't my car.) After the donkeys had their fill of hay, they followed their leader--a grey donkey--to the next street over and disappeared around the corner of a building.
While watching this scene, a gentleman walking his dog approached. One of the donkeys stopped and eyed the little dog, but did nothing and continued on his way. I learned from the gentleman that the donkeys are wild and live in Cripple Creek. The citizens of Cripple Creek help take care of them and feed them. The donkeys know the lady with the hay. She is there almost every day to feed them, and motorists have to yield to the donkeys. It is believed that these donkeys are descendants from the donkeys that were left behind when the gold rush came to an end and the miners went back down the mountain. It's the first time since coming here in '93 that the hubby and I have ever seen the donkeys, and it sure made our day. As soon as I can get him, or the kiddie, to load the videos, you can view the donkeys on my FB page.
Happy Autumn everyone!
September 15, 2011
Saloons
Most of you know that I write western historical romance. In each of my works, I like to present something factual from life in the 1800's, even if it’s something as simple as a warming oven. I also like to have a saloon somewhere in the book. Sometimes the saloon is an important part of the story, and other times it's mentioned in passing, such as No Luck At All where Creel purchases an abandoned saloon and transforms it into his medical clinic. Which got me to thinking about the history of the western saloon, where the beer was brewed and how it was transported to the saloon, and my accuracy in portraying the local watering hole.
From what I could find on the Internet, Nathan Lyman was one of the first men to open a brewery in the United States; Rochester, NY, 1819. After him, breweries sprouted up through the century in big cities; Buffalo, Cincinnati, Chicago and Milwaukee to name a few. Ale was the first type of beer brewed, until the German migration to the United States introduced lager beer. Lager beer is lighter compared to ale and Americans liked the taste. They also preferred the new glassware introduced to saloons over the pewter mugs. While I learned a variety of facts from which of these start up breweries later became famous for the beer Americans consume today to how breweries played an important role in establishing new saloons, these large city breweries didn't satisfy my curiosity for how beer ended up in the western saloons.
In researching a bit further, I found a few threads pertaining to local breweries, though I couldn't find information as to the actual locations of these breweries. I did discover that my initial thoughts of beer being stored in wooden barrels was correct, and after happening upon some photos of horse-drawn wagons laden with wooden barrels, I did prove another thought that this was how beer was transported to saloons. Two things I didn't know pertained to some folks brewing their own beer and others purchasing beer from saloons to consume at home. Beer was carried in small tin pails known as 'Growlers'. To me, that was interesting, because I never see mention of beer being consumed at home. Only whiskey.
Now that I know the history of beer, I feel more comfortable with the saloons in my stories. They do reflect some facts, such as the polished bar and the wooden barrel, and they also reflect my imagination of the décor and the men who frequented these rough-and-tumble establishments.
From what I could find on the Internet, Nathan Lyman was one of the first men to open a brewery in the United States; Rochester, NY, 1819. After him, breweries sprouted up through the century in big cities; Buffalo, Cincinnati, Chicago and Milwaukee to name a few. Ale was the first type of beer brewed, until the German migration to the United States introduced lager beer. Lager beer is lighter compared to ale and Americans liked the taste. They also preferred the new glassware introduced to saloons over the pewter mugs. While I learned a variety of facts from which of these start up breweries later became famous for the beer Americans consume today to how breweries played an important role in establishing new saloons, these large city breweries didn't satisfy my curiosity for how beer ended up in the western saloons.
In researching a bit further, I found a few threads pertaining to local breweries, though I couldn't find information as to the actual locations of these breweries. I did discover that my initial thoughts of beer being stored in wooden barrels was correct, and after happening upon some photos of horse-drawn wagons laden with wooden barrels, I did prove another thought that this was how beer was transported to saloons. Two things I didn't know pertained to some folks brewing their own beer and others purchasing beer from saloons to consume at home. Beer was carried in small tin pails known as 'Growlers'. To me, that was interesting, because I never see mention of beer being consumed at home. Only whiskey.
Now that I know the history of beer, I feel more comfortable with the saloons in my stories. They do reflect some facts, such as the polished bar and the wooden barrel, and they also reflect my imagination of the décor and the men who frequented these rough-and-tumble establishments.
September 1, 2011
Comfort Zones
Comfort Zones. We all have them, and for me, venturing outside any of mine is usually a problem. When I worked outside of the home, I enjoyed perfecting my position. Then, inevitably, the boss would come along and want to make changes. Because my comfort zone was knowing almost every detail of the job, even in my sleep, I didn't embrace those changes very well. The same can be said when it comes to the books I read.
Ninety percent of the books on my shelves at home are romance. I take comfort in knowing the hero and heroine will meet, work together to solve some sort of problem and then have a happily ever after. This past spring and summer I ventured out of my reading comfort zone to different genres; mystery, fantasy, preternatural and women's fiction. All of which, I have to say, were very good.
In my day to day work and home life, I have a schedule that I try like heck to stick to. I absolutely hate it when something gets thrown into the mix and sends my whole routine out of whack--another comfort zone broken down. On the flip side of that, doing the same thing every day gets boring. We all need something to shake things up and put a little spark in our lives. So, brave soul that I am not, I volunteerd for Vice President of the PTO at the kiddie's school.
As I sat in on the meeting this morning, several committees were vying for help. All were interesting and tugging at my heartstrings for me to get more involved, but a little voice in the back of my head kept reminding to not forget my writing schedule. So, while I took a small step to get out of the house more, I realized I can't deny every one of my comforts. I have to write. It's in my blood, which means I have to have the time to put words on a computer screen, or by the end of the week, I'll feel as though I've accomplished nothing.
Breaking a comfort zone, or more than one, is fine. It challenges us to be all we can be. But don't take on more than you can handle. As I reminded myself, be realistic, not only with your time but with what brings you comfort. The reward in the end will be that much sweeter.
Ninety percent of the books on my shelves at home are romance. I take comfort in knowing the hero and heroine will meet, work together to solve some sort of problem and then have a happily ever after. This past spring and summer I ventured out of my reading comfort zone to different genres; mystery, fantasy, preternatural and women's fiction. All of which, I have to say, were very good.
In my day to day work and home life, I have a schedule that I try like heck to stick to. I absolutely hate it when something gets thrown into the mix and sends my whole routine out of whack--another comfort zone broken down. On the flip side of that, doing the same thing every day gets boring. We all need something to shake things up and put a little spark in our lives. So, brave soul that I am not, I volunteerd for Vice President of the PTO at the kiddie's school.
As I sat in on the meeting this morning, several committees were vying for help. All were interesting and tugging at my heartstrings for me to get more involved, but a little voice in the back of my head kept reminding to not forget my writing schedule. So, while I took a small step to get out of the house more, I realized I can't deny every one of my comforts. I have to write. It's in my blood, which means I have to have the time to put words on a computer screen, or by the end of the week, I'll feel as though I've accomplished nothing.
Breaking a comfort zone, or more than one, is fine. It challenges us to be all we can be. But don't take on more than you can handle. As I reminded myself, be realistic, not only with your time but with what brings you comfort. The reward in the end will be that much sweeter.
August 25, 2011
Back From Summer Break
Hello Everyone: I hope your summer break was fantastic, as mine has been. And if your children are still at home, I hope you enjoy these last few weeks before they return to school.
As usual, the summer went by too fast. The kiddie has been back in school for over a week, and I'm back in my routine of waking at 5:30, making lunch, packing the backpack and taking my son to school. I'm also back into my writing routine and have begun working on the final installment of my Outlaws as Heroes trilogy. This one is titled Debra's Bandit. Gage is the hero, with a past that has haunted him for years and a Pinkerton hot on his trail. Debra runs the mercantile and longs for Gage to return her love and settle in Revolving Point with her. Will he or won't he? Depends on what happens when he decides to let the Pinkerton catch up to him.
Before diving into this latest book, I spent the summer at home. My nephew came to visit and we had fun showing him all the attractions that Colorado has to offer. He had a great time, shopped 'til he dropped and is now home. My son enjoyed having his cousin around 24/7, spent a lot of time in the pool and excelled on his Xbox games. The hubby worked and I took on some writing related projects that weren't my own. I worked with other authors, which is always a thrill and an honor for me, and gave my muse the rest it needed.
My biggest news for these past few months is the release of my third book in the Weston Family Series. Asylett Press released No Luck At All in June. It is currently available as an Ebook or download. No Luck At All features Creel Weston, the youngest Weston brother, and his new wife, Boston socialite Racine Somerfield. Creel is a doctor and Racine harbors scars that Creel's doctoring may not be able to heal. Look for Lucas and Royce, Creel's older brothers, to create more havoc for Creel as he tries to help his wife overcome a childhood of torment. Those two devilish cowboys are so much fun to work with.
Until next time, have a great week everyone.
As usual, the summer went by too fast. The kiddie has been back in school for over a week, and I'm back in my routine of waking at 5:30, making lunch, packing the backpack and taking my son to school. I'm also back into my writing routine and have begun working on the final installment of my Outlaws as Heroes trilogy. This one is titled Debra's Bandit. Gage is the hero, with a past that has haunted him for years and a Pinkerton hot on his trail. Debra runs the mercantile and longs for Gage to return her love and settle in Revolving Point with her. Will he or won't he? Depends on what happens when he decides to let the Pinkerton catch up to him.
Before diving into this latest book, I spent the summer at home. My nephew came to visit and we had fun showing him all the attractions that Colorado has to offer. He had a great time, shopped 'til he dropped and is now home. My son enjoyed having his cousin around 24/7, spent a lot of time in the pool and excelled on his Xbox games. The hubby worked and I took on some writing related projects that weren't my own. I worked with other authors, which is always a thrill and an honor for me, and gave my muse the rest it needed.
My biggest news for these past few months is the release of my third book in the Weston Family Series. Asylett Press released No Luck At All in June. It is currently available as an Ebook or download. No Luck At All features Creel Weston, the youngest Weston brother, and his new wife, Boston socialite Racine Somerfield. Creel is a doctor and Racine harbors scars that Creel's doctoring may not be able to heal. Look for Lucas and Royce, Creel's older brothers, to create more havoc for Creel as he tries to help his wife overcome a childhood of torment. Those two devilish cowboys are so much fun to work with.
Until next time, have a great week everyone.
April 27, 2011
Taking a Summer Break
The last two weeks have been hectic. I finished the 1st draft of 'Lydia's Gunslinger'. Before I pile more onto my already over-worked muse by beginning the 2nd draft, I've decided to take a break from writing for a few weeks. Ideas of things to change, add and delete are forming in the back of my mind. They need a chance to root and grow before I pound away at the keyboard.
Surprises came in many forms these past few weeks, as well. I had my very first book signing last Saturday at Bethanne's Book Corner. Though the store was slow that day, I had a great time. Bethanne is a wonderful and generous hostess and I thank her very much for having me. A week before the book signing, I went to Bethanne's for a friend's signing and met a very nice lady, Bonnie. She introduced me to all sorts of authors on Facebook, and from there, it is with great honor and joy that I met two authors I avidly read in the past, Rebecca Sinclair and Shirle Henke. I remember staying up until the wee hours of morning engrossed in the stories these highly talented women have written.
Presently, I'm looking forward to the school year coming to an end and for summer vacation to begin. I have my summer goals, the first of which is to welcome my nephew for a long visit. The family and I have lots of activities planned for when he is here. Second are my writing goals. I hope to finish the 2nd draft of 'Lydia's Gunslinger' and begin character work on the third book in this series. But most importantly, I hope to relax, enjoy the warm days and spend time with the kiddie. With that said, I'm taking the next few months off from writing this blog. I'll be back in September with new topics and a fresh muse. Until then, enjoy the sunny days, your family and friends, and be good to yourself.
Julie
Surprises came in many forms these past few weeks, as well. I had my very first book signing last Saturday at Bethanne's Book Corner. Though the store was slow that day, I had a great time. Bethanne is a wonderful and generous hostess and I thank her very much for having me. A week before the book signing, I went to Bethanne's for a friend's signing and met a very nice lady, Bonnie. She introduced me to all sorts of authors on Facebook, and from there, it is with great honor and joy that I met two authors I avidly read in the past, Rebecca Sinclair and Shirle Henke. I remember staying up until the wee hours of morning engrossed in the stories these highly talented women have written.
Presently, I'm looking forward to the school year coming to an end and for summer vacation to begin. I have my summer goals, the first of which is to welcome my nephew for a long visit. The family and I have lots of activities planned for when he is here. Second are my writing goals. I hope to finish the 2nd draft of 'Lydia's Gunslinger' and begin character work on the third book in this series. But most importantly, I hope to relax, enjoy the warm days and spend time with the kiddie. With that said, I'm taking the next few months off from writing this blog. I'll be back in September with new topics and a fresh muse. Until then, enjoy the sunny days, your family and friends, and be good to yourself.
Julie
April 7, 2011
Western Television Shows
Western Television Shows
As a child, I spent many a Sunday afternoon watching John Wayne movies with my dad. We also watched western shows on television; Big Valley and High Chaparral come to mind. It's from those movies and shows that my love for cowboys and all things western were born. I admired the women in their long dresses, the ranch houses they lived in, especially the ones with the sprawling front porches, and how the cowboy always triumphed over the bad guy in the end. Stagecoaches, boardwalks in town and saloons were also favorites. I used to imagine what it would have been like to have lived back then. Life seemed easy and magical to my child's eye. Now that I'm older, I know the work those men and women did, and the justices they fought for, weren't easy.
Washing machines were scrub boards, a dryer was a clothesline, a trip to town could take the entire day, and communication was not by telephone but rather by an actual person-to-person visit or a letter. Readying for travel meant feeding the horses and then hitching them to the wagon, heat came from the fireplace or cook stove, preparing dinner often meant butchering your own chicken, and calling upon the law for help could sometimes take several days. Yet, I wanted to experience that way of life and eagerly looked forward to next week's episode where I could embrace some things through the characters on screen.
Two of my favorite westerns from today's generation are Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman and Deadwood. Dr. Quinn not only broadened my knowledge about every day life in an 1800's western town, the show taught me many historical and medical facts. Deadwood brought forth the real heart and grit of the cowboy. Through some excellent nail-biting and emotional scenes, we glimpsed the cowboy as he sometimes was; raw, hardened and untamed, and not afraid to fight for what he believed in, even when he lost the battle.
Both shows had a staff of writers whose diligent research into the genre radiated onto the screen. Each had a cast who brought their characters to life and made them people the viewer connected with. The sets were fabulous, as were the make-up and wardrobe, and I came away from each in the same fashion as I came away from Big Valley and High Chaparral when I was a child; early anticipating next week's episode and still very much wanting to have lived in the era. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I was born in the wrong generation.
As a child, I spent many a Sunday afternoon watching John Wayne movies with my dad. We also watched western shows on television; Big Valley and High Chaparral come to mind. It's from those movies and shows that my love for cowboys and all things western were born. I admired the women in their long dresses, the ranch houses they lived in, especially the ones with the sprawling front porches, and how the cowboy always triumphed over the bad guy in the end. Stagecoaches, boardwalks in town and saloons were also favorites. I used to imagine what it would have been like to have lived back then. Life seemed easy and magical to my child's eye. Now that I'm older, I know the work those men and women did, and the justices they fought for, weren't easy.
Washing machines were scrub boards, a dryer was a clothesline, a trip to town could take the entire day, and communication was not by telephone but rather by an actual person-to-person visit or a letter. Readying for travel meant feeding the horses and then hitching them to the wagon, heat came from the fireplace or cook stove, preparing dinner often meant butchering your own chicken, and calling upon the law for help could sometimes take several days. Yet, I wanted to experience that way of life and eagerly looked forward to next week's episode where I could embrace some things through the characters on screen.
Two of my favorite westerns from today's generation are Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman and Deadwood. Dr. Quinn not only broadened my knowledge about every day life in an 1800's western town, the show taught me many historical and medical facts. Deadwood brought forth the real heart and grit of the cowboy. Through some excellent nail-biting and emotional scenes, we glimpsed the cowboy as he sometimes was; raw, hardened and untamed, and not afraid to fight for what he believed in, even when he lost the battle.
Both shows had a staff of writers whose diligent research into the genre radiated onto the screen. Each had a cast who brought their characters to life and made them people the viewer connected with. The sets were fabulous, as were the make-up and wardrobe, and I came away from each in the same fashion as I came away from Big Valley and High Chaparral when I was a child; early anticipating next week's episode and still very much wanting to have lived in the era. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I was born in the wrong generation.
March 31, 2011
Summer Goals
Can you believe the school year is almost over? It seems the year goes faster and faster with each passing grade. August begins a new year, and before I know it, the holidays are upon me, then spring and the start of the baseball season, and then it's May and school is out for the summer. I just looked outside and I see buds blooming on the trees. Which got me to thinking about summer goals.
We all want summer to last longer than three months. We have vacations to take, barbeques to attend and days to spend splashing in the pool or flying a kite at the park. With the kids running in and out, it's easy to lose sight of your writing goals. But it doesn't have to be.
Take a look at your regular writing schedule and see where you can tweak it for a few months. If you're home all day with the kids, like me, it's not that hard. If your children like to sleep late, plan to write in the morning. If they take a nap, use that time to write. If you work all day, shoot for a half hour in the evening. It doesn't have to be every night as long as you find some time to dedicate to your craft. I advise against weekends, unless you're by yourself. Husbands, wives, children, family; these are your two days to relax and spend time with those dear to your heart. And if you're not currently working on a story, use your allotted writing time for promotion work, or to draft your next novel, or to keep up with what's current in the genre you write by reading other authors in that genre. But most of all, enjoy the long, warm days with your family and be good to yourself.
We all want summer to last longer than three months. We have vacations to take, barbeques to attend and days to spend splashing in the pool or flying a kite at the park. With the kids running in and out, it's easy to lose sight of your writing goals. But it doesn't have to be.
Take a look at your regular writing schedule and see where you can tweak it for a few months. If you're home all day with the kids, like me, it's not that hard. If your children like to sleep late, plan to write in the morning. If they take a nap, use that time to write. If you work all day, shoot for a half hour in the evening. It doesn't have to be every night as long as you find some time to dedicate to your craft. I advise against weekends, unless you're by yourself. Husbands, wives, children, family; these are your two days to relax and spend time with those dear to your heart. And if you're not currently working on a story, use your allotted writing time for promotion work, or to draft your next novel, or to keep up with what's current in the genre you write by reading other authors in that genre. But most of all, enjoy the long, warm days with your family and be good to yourself.
March 23, 2011
Life's Little Curve Balls
I absolutely hate when my weekly schedule is tossed to the curb. This usually happens on a Monday with the ring of the telephone or an unexpected email that leads from one thing to another. I like structure and balance to my routine. I like knowing that by the time I sit down to watch Castle on Monday night that I will finish writing a chapter on Wednesday and this blog on Thursday. Dull, boring, tedious; yeah, it's true, but it's how I manage to write one book per year, keep up with chores and family and enjoy the summer.
Such was not the case these past two weeks. Mother Nature threw a bad curve ball in my direction. Thirty minutes before school let out for the weekend my little one called from the nurse's office. He wasn't feeling well. I picked him up, brought him home and figured he had a cold. No problem. He had the weekend to rest, until the flu took over that night. I spent the weekend tending to him. We watched movies, played cards and snuggled on the couch. Monday came and he seemed to feel a little better so I decided to get some writing done. And that's when it all went south.
He developed a cough that kept him and me up most of the night. I swore he was going to hack up a lung, but somehow he didn't. That in itself was a miracle, but the four hours at the clinic the next day wasn't. Not only was he sick, so was the hubby. The hubby didn't complain, but just having him home and underfoot for the day wore on my nerves. By Wednesday morning, I was tired from two sleepless nights, but determined to crank out my chapter for the week. After staring at the words I had written on Monday and trying to jumpstart my muse with a good dose of caffeine, I realized I felt no connection to the story or the characters. That really irked me, because it was Wednesday and I had nothing worthwhile in the form of writing accomplished. And then I made an executive decision. Since the muse had no desire to work, I'd let it rest and turn my attention and energy elsewhere while I continued to take care of the little one.
Spring cleaning seemed to help relieve the tension of not completing a chapter for the week. And it gave me the opportunity to cuddle with the little one in the afternoon. We watched television--in my opinion, afternoon television stinks--and ordered out dinner since the hubby and I didn't feel like cooking. By Saturday, my son seemed to be on the mend. And then Sunday greeted me with a visit from the allergy witch. The congestion was terrible. Worse was my stupidity to go outside and work in the sage garden. Monday was more of the same. Yesterday, I began to make some headway in the breathing department. Today is even better. Now, if the weatherman could make all this wind we've been having disappear, I'd be happier than a pig up to his ears in slop.
You might be wondering what my jibber-jabber is leading up to. The answer is simple. Listen to your body and your muse. When life throws you a curve ball in the form of not feeling well, or ideas not flowing easily, it's time to take a break. As I have frustratingly learned last week, that break may be longer than a day or two. You may think you're wasting time, but in reality, you're not. When you sit back down at the computer, you'll be looking at your work with fresh, rested eyes and discover you and your muse are ready to get back to work. I recommend you take a break a few times during the year. Afterall, we're human and good ideas need a chance to formulate and blossom before we can get them correctly from our minds to paper.
Happy Spring everyone!
Such was not the case these past two weeks. Mother Nature threw a bad curve ball in my direction. Thirty minutes before school let out for the weekend my little one called from the nurse's office. He wasn't feeling well. I picked him up, brought him home and figured he had a cold. No problem. He had the weekend to rest, until the flu took over that night. I spent the weekend tending to him. We watched movies, played cards and snuggled on the couch. Monday came and he seemed to feel a little better so I decided to get some writing done. And that's when it all went south.
He developed a cough that kept him and me up most of the night. I swore he was going to hack up a lung, but somehow he didn't. That in itself was a miracle, but the four hours at the clinic the next day wasn't. Not only was he sick, so was the hubby. The hubby didn't complain, but just having him home and underfoot for the day wore on my nerves. By Wednesday morning, I was tired from two sleepless nights, but determined to crank out my chapter for the week. After staring at the words I had written on Monday and trying to jumpstart my muse with a good dose of caffeine, I realized I felt no connection to the story or the characters. That really irked me, because it was Wednesday and I had nothing worthwhile in the form of writing accomplished. And then I made an executive decision. Since the muse had no desire to work, I'd let it rest and turn my attention and energy elsewhere while I continued to take care of the little one.
Spring cleaning seemed to help relieve the tension of not completing a chapter for the week. And it gave me the opportunity to cuddle with the little one in the afternoon. We watched television--in my opinion, afternoon television stinks--and ordered out dinner since the hubby and I didn't feel like cooking. By Saturday, my son seemed to be on the mend. And then Sunday greeted me with a visit from the allergy witch. The congestion was terrible. Worse was my stupidity to go outside and work in the sage garden. Monday was more of the same. Yesterday, I began to make some headway in the breathing department. Today is even better. Now, if the weatherman could make all this wind we've been having disappear, I'd be happier than a pig up to his ears in slop.
You might be wondering what my jibber-jabber is leading up to. The answer is simple. Listen to your body and your muse. When life throws you a curve ball in the form of not feeling well, or ideas not flowing easily, it's time to take a break. As I have frustratingly learned last week, that break may be longer than a day or two. You may think you're wasting time, but in reality, you're not. When you sit back down at the computer, you'll be looking at your work with fresh, rested eyes and discover you and your muse are ready to get back to work. I recommend you take a break a few times during the year. Afterall, we're human and good ideas need a chance to formulate and blossom before we can get them correctly from our minds to paper.
Happy Spring everyone!
