Gabi Stevens's Blog, page 22

AS YOU WISH

I know; I just posted a new blog yesterday, but I couldn't wait. Here, with much fanfare, drum rolls, and glee, is the cover for AS YOU WISH (Tor Books, April 2011)

Big, long, awe-filled sigh.
--Gabi

POD

I ordered a book to read for the holidays and mistakenly ordered an older book. That's okay, though, because I hadn't read it, but when I received the book I stared at it for a while because it looked different. The cover was slick, the binding extremely tight, the paper slippery, and some of the line were squished on the page. It looked like an ARC, but it didn't have any sort of designation on the front. I had the book for a few days before I realized it was a print on demand book (POD).

So what is my feeling about this technology? Well, I'm happy that I can buy and read this older book. But it feels wrong. It's too shiny. I'm a spine breaker (of books, not people) and I absolutely cannot open this book wide enough to read it comfortably. That's probably an odd complaint, but it's hard to read the words close to the spine. It slips through my fingers as I turn pages, and the pages are too white. There's a glare from any light (and it's not even an e-reader). I'm finding myself unable to read the book for long periods of time.

Overall, I believe the technology has to improve before I give it my stamp of approval. I have yet to try an e-reader (I know, I know. I have absolutely nothing against e-reader, but I like the feel of a book in my hand. I've heard the experience on an e-reader is comparable, and I've finally decided which one I want, but I haven't acquired it yet...yeah, because the one thing I need is easier access to books because I don't have an addiction already), but I expect that it would be more comfortable than the POD.

Sigh. I really am too obsessed about books.
--Gabi
Books I'm reading now:
As You Desire by Connie Brockway

Cookies

I just finished making the traditional Christmas cookies (Vanilias kifli, without the accent marks, for those in the know) that my grandmother made for her family in Hungary so many years ago. When my mother married my father, she didn't know how to make them. They were my father's favorite cookies, so she asked my grandmother to teach her. We had them every Christmas ever since. She gave me the recipe the first time I wasn't able to be with her for Christmas. I plan to pass it along to my kids someday.

I don't have many traditions passed along in my family. My parents immigrated from Hungary. Their whole lives were uprooted for a chance at a better life in a new place. As I grew up, I never knew Santa Claus--he wasn't a Hungarian tradition--and they dropped a lot of the Hungarian traditions because they weren't American. I never had a stocking, and we opened presents on Christmas Eve. But the cookies were always there. The kind I baked tonight and the two other kinds. Frankly, I don't really want to learn how to make the other ones. They're not my favorites and, really, should I spend hours working on something that I just won't enjoy? (Rhetorical--don't remind me that we all have do do stuff often for hours that we don't enjoy. I'm talking cookies here.)

My father died 21 years ago this week. So as I make the cookies, I think of him, my mother, my grandmother (whom I met once when I was four--she lived in Hungary, I lived in the US), my kids, my husband, and his family, who have accepted me as one of them. And I realize traditions are pretty cool.

Especially if you end up with cookies.:)
--Gabi

Books I'm reading now:
Eon by Alison Goodman
Big Jack by JD Robb

Pictures of Heroes

I admit it. I rarely look for pictures of my heroes. I'd rather imagine all on my own, thank you very much. But with my upcoming novel, AS YOU WISH, I had a definite actor in mind as I wrote it. The actor? Simon Baker. Usually my heroes are dark haired (for whatever reason, I prefer dark haired men), but for Jonathan Bastion, Simon Baker wouldn't leave my mind. He and the way he plays Patrick Jane on THE MENTALIST was the perfect fit--the outwardly casual demeanor that covers a tortured interior, the confidence he exudes, and the looks don't hurt either. My heroine, Reggie, is less than confident in her own skin.


This actor thing seems to be a trend, because as I was writing the third book (title forthcoming) in the trilogy, I found the perfect picture for my hero again. This time it was Til Schweiger (Inglourious Basterds). He looks the part of Hunter Merrick, right down to the dimple in his chin.




So now I'm working on something new and wondering if I again will find a pic for hero. I've decided that it's not a bad thing. Gives me a great excuse for looking at lovely men, even if I totally love my husband. But I may just not tell him.

--Gabi

Books I'm reading now:
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Thanksgiving...the easy way

The number one easy way to have Thanksgiving is of course to be invited somewhere so you don't have to cook at all. But that's not happening this year for me. I'm not doing the number two way either (Number two...hmmm, I really have to stop cultivating the preschool sense of humor), which would be ordering the meal from a supermarket. This year I saw an advertising from Trader Joe's for half a turkey already roasted and cooked. Yup, that's what I'm doing. Only three of us are home for Thanksgiving this year(Last year too; I made a duck for the first time last year) and my husband informed me--after 25 years of marriage--that he's not all that crazy about turkey; could just be my turkey--so all I'm doing is preparing the sides. I feel slightly guilty about it; despite his avowed lack of enthusiasm for turkey, I love it: the smell of it roasting, the taste, and best of all the leftovers.

So I'm going simple this year, less work, more time to...WRITE. For which I am truly thankful. The earlier health scare turned out to be nothing (yet another reason for thankfulness), and I have have the opportunity to entertain readers. Not to mention that I do have a terrific husband, great children, and wonderful friends.

What's on your thankful list?


--Gabi
Books I'm Reading now:
Hot Rocks by Nora Roberts
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (yeah, it's going slowly)
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley

Shyness

Believe it or not, I'm shy. It works in odd ways. I have no qualms about standing up in front of people and giving a talk (or performing--but I haven't done that in many, many years-if you were at RT in Houston in 2000, you saw me perform), but throw me into a cocktail party situation, and I believe I come off aloof and cold...not because I am snooty, but because I'm shy. Add my height into the equation and I come off as doubly arrogant. I don't mean it, really (okay, I'm sure sometimes I do), but I've never been good at first impressions or making small talk. I'm so afraid of saying something stupid that I don't talk. Or if I don't know anyone, it's really hard for me to just jump in and enter a conversation.

I know most people are like that. The cocktail party situation is hard for almost everyone. I really admire those people I call magnets--the ones who can find their way anywhere. I know three of them off the top of my head. No matter where they go, they find friends, whether or not they knew those people before. They are entertaining, are never afraid to say something stupid because they are the first to laugh at themselves, and seem to attract a crowd wherever they land. I want that skill.

My own shyness extends to continuing situations. I met a big name author at RomCon this year. She was completely charming and pleasant. We had a great conversation together, even to the point of exchanging contact info so she could send me Hungarian copies of her books when they arrive for my mother. We ate dinner one night together. For me it was a BIG deal. I saw her again at the RWA National conference two weeks later. I said "Hi," but then slunk away, convinced she couldn't possibly remember me. I bet she thought I was being rude, but it was my shyness kicking in. I once saw a different BIG name author walking toward me once at National. She smiled at me in greeting; I averted my gaze in panic.

I'm trying to get better. I'm trying to practice talking to strangers and exuding warmth, but somehow it's easier in the grocery store than when I actually have to interact for a while with someone. I'm really not a snob (except in some things), or rude; I really am afraid that I'll say something stupid and make you hate me.

So if you ever meet me and you're underwhelmed, now you'll understand why. Not that I'm a comedian when you do get to know me, but I do do voices.

--Gabi
Books I'm reading now:
Happy Ever After by Nora Roberts
The True Love Quilting Club by Lori Wilde
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (trying to plug that hole in my education)

Little things mean a lot

Silly? Perhaps. Illogical? Definitely. Today I was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of work I have to do and how little time I have to do it in. And a ton of little things were adding to the stress--jackets hanging on the railing, dishes in the sink, no extra rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom--you know, stupid little things. So my husband, the smartest man on earth (at least today), stood beside me and together we took care of the those silly little things. One little thing after another. Straightened a book shelf, got rid of outgrown toys, put newspapers into the recycle bin, replaced the filter on the refrigerator, and so on ad nauseum. And it worked. I feel unburdened now, as if I can face the big tasks with energy and enthusiasm.

And then I got to thinking that even the big tasks require the little things. One little thing after another. For example, on my list of big tasks this weekend is writing the first chapter of the new series (assuming it will turn into a series because someone will buy it). The first little task--making a new folder for it on the computer. Second, opening word; third starting a new doc for chapter one. Formatting, etc., follow and pretty soon I have a paragraph, then a page finished. Still have 399 to go, but it doesn't feel quite so daunting any more.

One step at a time. One step at a time.

--Gabi
P.S. Finished my first pass page proofs for AS YOU WISH this month. I can't wait to see the cover and get ARC's. April will be here before I'm ready. Hope you're getting as excited as I am.

Books I'm reading now:
Running Hot by Jayne Ann Krentz
Sword of Darkness by Kinley MacGregor

Random List of Things that Made Me Happy in the Last Week

1. Coming in from outside on a cold day and the house is warm!
2. Puppy licks.
3. Husband made banana splits and bratwursts (not at the same time).
4. Went to Red River, NM, for a Writers' Retreat.
5. Saw Jodi Thomas.
6. Daughter was home (but then she went back to school which made me not so happy).
7. Reading my first pass page proofs for AS YOU WISH (April 2011).
8. Teaching Latin (Yes, I subject my students to Latin).
9. Having high tea at the St. James Tea Room. (Oh. My. God. The food is richer than any I've ever had. Sooo good.)
10. Receiving author copies of FILLED WITH GLEE, which contains my essay titled "At the Heart of Sue Sylvester."


--Gabi
Books I'm reading now:
Wizard Squared by KE Mills
The Devil Wears Plaid by Teresa Medieros

The Fear

I finished my book contract last month. All three books in the Time of Transition trilogy are done and turned in (heck, The Wish List is available right now at a book store near you). The dedicated author (That would be I) now needs to start on the next project. The idea has been brewing for a while. But along with the excitement and thrill of starting a new book comes the fear.

We writers are a neurotic group (I don't mean to speak for everyone, so consider that corrected to "I am neurotic"). The fear arises from so many different areas. Is the new idea at all good? What if it's stupid? Can I even finish another book again (the idea of writing 400 manuscript pages is daunting)? And if I finish it, can I even sell it? And if I sell on proposal, can I finish it in time? And if I sell it and finish it, what if no one likes it?

It's not like having books on the shelves is any easier. The first book of the trilogy is out and received mostly good reviews, but... "Will anyone like AS YOU WISH(the second book)? Will it have a good cover? Will it have good distribution? What if no one likes it? And the third book--I just turned it in and am still too close to it to make any judgments. What if it sucks? What if none of the book sell well enough for my publisher to want anything else from me? What if this is the death of my career?

Yeah, I can't concentrate on the good stuff--like the five heart review from The Romance Reader, like the positive review in PW, like the many readers I've heard from who loved the book. Nope, I focus on the negative possibilities--not even the realities.

The craziest thing of all? I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing than writing.
--Gabi

Books I'm reading now:
Wicked Becomes You by Meredith Duran
Wizard Squared by KE Mills

One step forward...

I'm up at an ungodly hour on my day off because the puppy seems to have taken a step back in her training. She's had accidents for the two out of the past three nights, and I was determined we wouldn't have another one today. So far, so good. But my problem with being up so early is that my brain won't stop dwelling on problems or frustrations, and then I make the mistake of reading news on line. Politics has me depressed anyway (I don't care which side you're on--it's all depressing), and reading about the latest round of muckraking, stupidity, and selfishness only makes my mood worse. Politics aside, other topics haven't been much better.

But the story that thoroughly floored me was the one about the four suicides after bullying in Ohio. You think that couldn't happen at your school, in your neighborhood? What has happened to kids these days? How are they being raised? What makes them believe they have the right to pick on someone who is different or espouses different viewpoints? What happened to live and let live?

Yes, I am at a school where bullying takes place. As a teacher, I can tell you, it's hard to catch it in the act. I never have. Then again, I have a small number of students and don't know most of the student body. I'm isolated at school and I've always been a rather naive person. I can stand in the hallway during passing period, but most of the time, I have students who need or want my attention during those four minutes. But it makes me sick to realize that out there is a child who is afraid to go to school because of other children (monsters--the real kind). And then to see the parents who think their child can't do anything wrong... What have we turned into?

When I was in sixth grade, I was bullied. The child of immigrants, too tall and skinny for her age (Snort, skinny--not a problem these days), and one of the nerds, I was the target for a couple of kids in my class. We did square dancing every Friday. Since I wasn't popular, when squares were formed, I'd invariably never be picked for a square and be stuck with my bullies. As we'd promenade around the square, the ones left "at home" would kick me as I walked around. I reported it to the teacher, but she did nothing.

It ended the day they made fun of my Hungarian background. (Oh, Hungary? Hungry? Are you a hungry Hungarian?--trivial, right?) I whirled on them and told never to say anything that stupid again. They had no idea what my parents had gone through to get to this country. They didn't know what hunger was. My parents did. I told these sixth graders they were ignorant and spoiled and completely clueless about life.

I don't know why that particular taunt made me defend myself. Maybe because they were attacking two people I loved rather than me. They stopped bullying me after that and other kids in the class came up to me and told me how much they respected me after the incident. I'm glad I stood up for myself, but not everyone can. Especially if the abuse is physical and the victim isn't big enough/strong enough. And I also don't believe a physical response is necessarily the answer(But I'm not ruling it out).

Sometimes when I think about the major and minor problems in this world, I wonder why I bother with writing romance. It's frivolous and light. There are more important topics to tackle. And then I realize that my books talk about doing the right thing. About having to leave your comfort zone to stand up for good. And of course that love is the most important quality in life. I may not hit readers over the head with those topics, but they're there.

So go out and do the right thing. Spread some love. Let's do our little bit to make this world better. I don't think we can fix politics.
--Gabi

Books I'm reading now:
The Phoenix Transformed by Mercedes Lackey and James Mallory.