Diane Chamberlain's Blog, page 25

Sneak Peek at the Kiss River Cover

[image error]Not only can you peek at the cover, you can even pre-order it (along with the book!) at Amazon or Barnes and Noble or your local bookstore. Kiss River, in case you don't know, is the middle book of the Keeper of the Light trilogy set in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. You can keep track of any connected books on my Books page. Just click on the printable booklist in the upper right hand corner of the page. Love this cover!

How Many Fiction Writers does it take to Fantasize a Disaster?

[image error] Many years ago when I lived in Virginia, a few friends and I put together a writers' group. We met regularly and read and critiqued each others' work. There was a core group of five or six of us and a few folks who came for a week or a few months or a year and moved on. Although the core has broken apart now with most of us moving away, we stay in touch and every once in a while, we spend a few days together at Jane's, who just happens to live in the most beautiful setting on Smith Mountain Lake. That's exactly what we did a week or so ago and it was so fabulous to be with old friends in such a gorgeous place. I'm the only one still actively writing, although I hope after this recent get-together, a few others will pick up their pens again.
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I drove separately, since I was the only one coming from the south, and Linda, Jeanne and Ann drove together. When we pulled into the driveway, we all cracked up to see that Linda and I have identical vehicles. Then we got down to the business of catching up on everyone's lives–family, travel, health, writing (or not). We met Kep, Jane's newest family member. Last year when we visited, her beloved dog Wally was still with her. That dog was a favorite of mine–a smart, vibrant and loving lap dog too big for anyone's lap. Well, Jane's most recent work-in-progress is a novel about reincarnation, so it makes sense (and the timing is perfect) that Wally is somewhere inside of Kep, who is just as lovable and smart as his predecessor. (That's me with Wally on the left, and Kep on the right). Spooky, huh?
[image error] [image error] The first night we ate in, but the second night, Jane suggested we take their boat to a Mexican restaurant, ten minutes away by water. Linda gets seasick, so we hemmed and hawed a bit, but she was a good sport, agreeing to take the risk since it would be such a short trip.
We hopped in the boat and took off, with Jane's [image error] husband Chauncey at the helm. It was a beautiful though chilly trip across the lake and around the bend and around another bend and a few more bends and into some river and around a few more bends. Half an hour later, with Linda only a little green, we pulled up in front of the restaurant. (In the interest of time and space, I'll skip the part about Jane falling off the dock and how we asked the waiter for a candle so our table would have a little light and he had no candles so he brought us a desk lamp for the center of the table).
As we ate, I knew we were all, maybe even Chauncey, nervous about the boat trip back to the house in the dark. I asked Chauncey how he'd know the way back, given all the zillion turns we made on the way to the restaurant and he reassured me all we had to do was keep the red lights on our left until we got to the green light which would lead to the white light (or something like that).
We got back in the boat and Chauncey [image error] handed out the life preservers, putting one on himself. Not reassuring! Then we set out on our journey, no red lights in sight. I'm not kidding–this was like sailing into the black abyss. We sailed very slowly this time, all of us entertaining images of capsizing in the darkness alone in the middle of the black sea, our cell phones rendered useless by the water. But of course, we made it back to the house just fine and like all adventures, it was lots of fun to talk about once it was over. However, we've decided we'll drive to dinner next time.
Have you had any get togethers with old friends recently?

Story Weekend: Leaving Home

[image error]It's that time again! Another story weekend. I'm watching the TV series Friday Night Lights on Netflix instant play and wow, what a great show. Tonight's episode is about leaving home, so I thought that would be a good theme for us this week.

If you're new to Story Weekend, here's how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who've been contributing. I've loved reading your (very short!) stories. As always, there are a few "rules":

The story must be true.
Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That's about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it's too long. I know how tough it is to "write tight" but I hope you'll accept this as a challenge.
Avoid offensive language.

As usual, I'll start it off with my own story.

 

 

Diane Chamberlain, Paranormal Writer??

[image error]About eight years ago, I was chatting with my writer friend Mary Kirk when she told me she was editing an anthology of short stories. I'd recently been thinking of trying my hand at a short story, so I asked if I could contribute a story to the book. She seemed delighted, but told me the stories were romances. Okay, I said, no problem.  I hung up the phone and began thinking of ideas for a romantic short story that would be in keeping with the more mainstream fiction my readers expected from me.

Not an hour had passed before Mary called me back. "I forgot to mention, the stories are all about wounded heroes coming home from war."

"Uh. . . .okay," I said, quickly trying to wrap my mind around this new information. We got off the phone and I put my thinking cap on again. Half an hour later, Mary called once more.

"I forgot to mention something!" she said. "All the stories have to have paranormal elements."

Well. I could handle the romance and the war hero, but paranormal? Not my thing! I like a good challenge, though, so I told Mary I was still in. I wrote my story, The Dreamer, and it was published in The Journey Home along with stories by some high powered authors including Mary Jo Putney, Patricia Rice and Rebecca York. Until recently, though, The Journey Home was only available in print. But now–ta da! It's an ebook as well. And better news: my story, "The Dreamer", is the free excerpt on Mary's website. Just click on the cover on her site to read it online. I reread it the other day for the first time in eight years and it really touched me. I'd love to know what you think. Thanks, Mary, for the work you've done to turn The Journey Home into an ebook!

Story Weekend Theme: Porches

[image error]Either you have a porch or you wish you had a porch. It's true, isn't it? (Or if it isn't, I bet there's a story there too).  I'm lucky enough to have a screened porch for the first time in my adult life, and oh, how I love working out there. I'd love to know your porch story, so I hope you'll share it here.

If you're new to Story Weekend, here's how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who've been contributing. I've loved reading your (very short!) stories. As always, there are a few "rules":

The story must be true.
Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That's about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it's too long. I know how tough it is to "write tight" but I hope you'll accept this as a challenge.
Avoid offensive language.

As usual, I'll start it off with my own story.  

 

Pictures from the Old Days of Romance

[image error]I'm about to make the leap from a PC to a Mac, so I'm cleaning up all the stuff that's accumulated on my PC over the years. I stumbled across some fun pictures I thought you might enjoy. Some of my early books had strong romantic threads running through them, so I was active in the Romance Writers of America organization, where I made many wonderful writing friends whom I still cherish today.

The picture on the left was taken at the RWA conference the night I won the RITA award for my first novel, Private Relations (how come we don't appreciate how young we look when we are young??), and here[image error] I am on my way to the stage to receive the award. Note the shocked look on my face. I was so shocked, in fact, that I forgot to put on my shoes, which I'd taken off to get comfy as I watched the awards ceremony!

[image error]I don't remember if this party was before or after the ceremony, but I'm chatting here with Nora Roberts, who had given me a blurb for Private Relations. There's no one more generous when it comes to helping other writers than Nora.

Fast forward a year or [image error]so to a Romantic Times convention (the wildest conventions ever!). Do you like my purple hair? This was taken at a costume party and I think I'm talking with Kat Martin, though it might be Kathleen Eagle. Hard to tell in this picture. Maybe Kat or Kathleen will stop by to let me know!

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I believe the next couple of pix were from the same convention, though those events do tend to run together. I love this picture of me with my good friend, the late regency writer, Lydia Lee. I miss her so much!

[image error]And here I am with my longtime friend, Mary Kirk, at a convention booksigning. We both look thrilled with our sales, don't we? I'm excited that Mary's making a comeback: her new website will be up soon and she's made her backlist available via Kindle. If you're a romance reader, you're in luck!

Kathryn Lynn Davis, who wrote the mega bestseller Too Deep for Tears (and who needs to get back to writing!) and I shared one thing in common besides a love of books: we were both "health challenged". So here we are at an RT convention with our little pill cases, acting like the drama queens we were/are. [image error]

I believe the next shot was taken at another RWA conference. That's me with Karen Solem, who was my editor at HarperCollins at the time and who is now an agent, and Mary Alice Monroe, whom I bet you all know. Mary Alice and I go waaaaay back, both of us cutting our teeth on romance before moving into women's fiction. (What's with the big hair??)

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And finally, a couple of bonus shots from early shared booksignings, the first with author Patricia McLinn, who recently started A Writer's Work to make the backlist books of so many romance writers available as ebooks, and the second with Kathleen Gilles Seidel, who still turns out a masterpiece every few years.

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I hope you enjoyed this stroll through my poor old computer before I shut her down. When I look back at the pictures from the old days, I see myself so full of hope and excitement over my budding career, never knowing the very long and challenging road I had ahead of me. What's the opposite of "overnight success"? Still, I love where I've landed and treasure every minute–and every friend–I've made along the way.

Story Weekend Theme: Mailboxes

[image error]What's your mailbox story? Do you decorate yours for the holidays? Did you receive something extraordinary in yours once upon a time? Did a neighbor kid who doesn't like you put something icky inside? The mailbox in the picture was painted for me by my stepdaughter, Brittany, (aka Pretty Handy Girl) as a surprise, back when I had my Bernese Mountain Dog, Bruin. Can't wait to hear about your mailboxes!

If you're new to Story Weekend, here's how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who've been contributing. I've loved reading your (very short!) stories. As always, there are a few "rules":

The story must be true.
Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That's about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it's too long. I know how tough it is to "write tight" but I hope you'll accept this as a challenge.
Avoid offensive language.

As usual, I'll start it off with my own story.  

 

 

Under the Gun . . .

. . . so you'll have to bear with me this week! I'm on deadline to turn in my re[image error]visions for The Good Father and decided late in the game that an epilogue was desperately needed (you know how I love epilogues!). Plus I'm dealing with some storm issues (not mine, but  family, doing what I can do from far away). Everyone's safe, just uncomfortable. We lucked out here in Raleigh, and word has it that even my beach condo was spared. I only wish everyone had been so lucky.

I'll try to check in later this week on the blog. Meanwhile, I'll let my new grandbaby and her sister entertain you!

Story Weekend Theme: Storms

 

[image error]Well, what else? That's what's on my mind right now as we batten down the hatches here in the Raleigh, North Carolina area. So far, it's quiet out there. I only wish it could stay that way! The image at the left is not from Hurricane Irene, but rather from last October when a friend and I were stranded on Topsail Island for three days by a storm that was not a hurricane and not even a tropical storm but rather, an extraordinary bout of rain that left us blocked from escape with a jar of pickles and a dwindling supply of our necessary medications (you can read about that here). Needless to say, I'm a bit worried what a hurricane like Irene can do to to my place at the beach, but it's out of my hands. We just have to wait and see.

So since storms are on my mind, I'm putting them in yours as well. Tell us your storm story, and if you're new to Story Weekend, here's how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who've been contributing. I've loved reading your (very short!) stories. As always, there are a few "rules":

The story must be true.
Try to keep it under 100 words. That's about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it's too long. I know how tough it is to "write tight" but I hope you'll accept this as a challenge.
Avoid offensive language.

Since I cheated and told you my story in the body of this post, I won't start the ball rolling with the first comment, as I usually do. I hope one of you will jump in. I look forward to hearing your stories. I just hope we have the electricity necessary to read them this weekend! Stay safe, everyone.

 

A World War II Story You'll Love!

[image error]I'm so excited that one of my closest friends, Sarah Shaber, has a new book out. Sarah is the author of the Professor Simon Shaw Mystery Series, but now she's branching out in a new direction. Sarah's part of my Weymouth 7 Writers Group, so I had the opportunity to brainstorm with her as she created this thrilling story and I'm glad she's chosen to introduce you to her intriguing character, Louise Pearlie. Please welcome Sarah to the blog.

Meet Louise Pearlie

Hello, everyone!  I am Sarah Shaber, one of Diane's writing buddies here in North Carolina.  I was delighted when Diane asked me to introduce you to my new heroine, Louise Pearlie, and my first book about her, Louise's War. 

It's 1942, Louise Pearlie, a young widow, has come to Washington DC [image error]to work for the Office of Strategic Services, the forerunner of the CIA.  There she learns that a college friend, a French Jewish woman named Rachel Bloch, is trapped with her family in Vichy France.  Unable to trust her colleagues, Louise risks everything, including her life, to help Rachel escape the Nazis.

Even more challenging than the research needed to set a book in the past (see photo of piles of research!) was discovering just who Louise was as a woman and a person.  The early 1940s was a time most of us wouldn't want to live in.  Women were old maids if they didn't marry by their early twenties.  If they wanted a career they were told they couldn't have that and a home and family, too!

[image error]By 1940 the Depression was ten years old, jobs were scarce, and much of what we consider necessities didn't exist.  Imagine living without antibiotics and birth control!

"Colored" people were second-class citizens confined to demeaning occupations, married women were subservient to their husbands, and in Europe Hitler had begun his conquests.

Louise, a young widow, lived with her parents in her old bedroom, completely dependent on them, with little hope of escape.  Then the war came and everything changed.  The men left town to join the military and Louise got a job.

My boss was a simple man, who tended to say the same things over and over again, in case you didn't grasp his meaning the first few times. "Louise," he would say to me, "you ain't like most women.  You know how to keep your mouth shut."  I could have reminded him that the last three people we'd fired for talking to much were men, but I knew how to keep my mouth shut about plenty that had nothing to do with military secrets.

Louise knows how to get along, to conform to what's expected of her, but deep inside she revels in the independence her paycheck gives her and challenges the prejudices of her time, and she doesn't hesitate to tell us what she thinks. 

Oh, at first Louise thinks she's just doing her patriotic duty by working for the government, but soon she realizes that she loves her new job and her life in a boardinghouse near Dupont Circle.   She lets herself be attracted to Joe, a Czech refugee she knows nothing about, and to sympathize with Madeleine, the daughter of the boardinghouse's colored cook, who's searching for a job with a future.  She has adventures she never dreamed of.  Men, including a suave attaché from the French embassy, ask her on dates.  She discovers martinis.  She goes to a society party and meets Clark Gable. She gets promoted at work. She dreams of having her own apartment and a car.

Louise finds herself growing into the kind of woman who can take on the dangerous job of helping a dear friend escape from the Nazis and ultimately, to bring a killer to justice. 

I realized as I wrote this book, after interviewing women who lived through this war, that Louise and women like her were our mothers and grandmothers.  What they did for their country, and for women, made us all who we are today.  I understand more about myself than I did before meeting Louise, and I hope some of you will want to know her, too!