Writing, Devotion, and Your Monday Fortune Cookie, 7/29/13

DEVOTION IS WORTH THE EFFORT AT THIS TIME.

SNARKY RESPONSE:  But we make no promises about tomorrow.

Devotion is worth the effort at this time.

Actually, I feel that devotion is always worth the effort. Granted I may not always receive gratitude for my devotion, but if my intent were only to receive gratitude then it calls into question the validity of my devotion.

Now there are some noble pursuits that are with the sole expectation of recognition. I'm thinking specifically of competitive sports. In my mind, athletes and competitors are always cognisant of the ratio of effort to results, so I think they are outside the scope of my discussion.

Additionally, devotion to family and faith are excluded from the discussion, though my initial comment can be applied to those folks who expect others to reward them for their actions. As Dolly Parton's character said in "Straight Talk", those folks should "get down off the cross. Somebody needs the wood."

No, seriously, today's fortune cookie resonated with me and where I am right now with my writing. I'm well into my edits, to the point that I'm beginning to get a little green around the gills at the thought of reading through my current WIP One More Time. However, that one more time is crucial to getting the words right. In fact, I fully expect that even after I slog my way through this edit, I'll have to push myself through another. It's an effort, hell yeah, and I have been known to periodically whine about it, but it's an effort that I know will improve my work.

A WIP is an evolving creature. First Draft to Finished Product may see characters, story arc, pivotal points, etc. shift is unexpected ways. Those changes will require adjustments to the story in large and small ways. I have to be prepared to backtrack, backfill, and maybe even back down on my story as I become more and more involved with it.

I'm determined to do this work, to make these adjustments, and then go through it all again because I'm devoted to the concept of putting my best work forward to anyone who plunks down the money and the time to read my writing. Or even if no one does, because it's what I do.

I'm a writer and I write. Then I edit and edit and edit until it's right. And there's no skipping steps along the way. Therefore, my devotion to my writing is ALWAYS worth the effort.

Memories, Good Times, and Your Monday Fortune Cookie 7/22/13

It takes more than a good memory to have good memories.

SNARKY RESPONSE: Too much wine doesn't help either. Then again, it might.

It takes more than a good memory to have good memories.

I've just shared two marvelous weekends with two wonderful writing groups at The Porches in Norwood, VA. As expected, we all dedicated ourselves to writing, editing, and revising our current Works In Progress. Sitting in our rooms or on the famous porches, we typed, scribbled, and pondered. Chapters were written, sections were chopped, and ideas were explored. The glorious quiet was filled with insect and birdsong, the tranquil scenery offered respite when screens grew fuzzy, plots twisted into knots, or ideas seemed to slow. The sense of a shared mission helped keep us all focused and creative. However, writers cannot live on ideas alone. Oh No! All that creativity deserves to be richly rewarded and there was no shortage of delectable rewards to be had.

When evening began it's gentle approach and shadows lengthened, we set aside our works and gathered for dinner and socializing. Not that there weren't brief breaks throughout the day, breakfast, lunch, snacks, but the key word is "brief." The end of the day signalled a shift from isolated creativity to mixing and mingling food, drink, and talk.

The Tea & Strumpets ladies, Sofie Couch and Elvy Howard delighted our tastebuds with Lasagna and Grilled Chicken & Shrimp, respectively.

Even a confirmed veggie-phobe like myself could find nothing to fault in Sofie's lasagna even if it did have spinach in it. No, honestly, I eat the occasional green, and the spinach in the lasagna added color and flavor. Elvy's grilled offerings added zest and the opportunity to eat with my fingers (my favorite utensil, when applicable).

Evening meals flowed into evening drinks. In perfect Tea & Strumpets form, Alexa Day brought a mixed case of wine to be sampled and enjoyed. Sadly, the Strumpets were unable to account for more than six or seven bottles, but it was not for lack of trying. Our efforts were accompanied by the most outrageous and captivating light shows provided by lightning bugs. Of course, discussion of the whys and wherefors of lightning bug displays dissolved into laughing lewdity and speculation. Being Strumpets, would you expect anything less?

The James River Writers dinner cooks, Mike & Shawna Christos and Leila Gaskins provided even more tummy tickling delights with Grilled Chicken and salad and Individual Pizzas with a myriad of fixin's to spread on home-made pizze crusts, respectively.

And to accompany it all were copious amounts of libations ranging from cold, clear artesian well water provided free by The Porches to a seemingly unending array of wine.

The James River Writers showed a comparable level of skill and enthusiasm in the arena of  alcoholic consumption plus nearly polishing off a bottle of whisky which I believe went by a delightful moniker of Larceny (or something - perhaps someone will correct me in the comments). Ah, proof positive that a good memory does not require total recall.

As you can tell, a fabulous time was had by all and we left with words written, ideas hatched, memories made, and connections more perfectly forged. I highly recommend The Porches Writers Retreat for anyone wishing to escape the daily distractions. You can attend solo or in a group, both will provide you results far beyond your expectations.

Wandering into my story & your belated Monday Fortune Cookie

LET YOUR IMAGINATION WANDER.

SNARKY RESPONSE: Just make sure you've put a tracker on it or you're going to be SOL.

Let your imagination wander.

I love the fortune cookie guru. Okay, I admit, I do ask him to offer me several fortunes before I pick one, but he always manages to come up with something apropos. Apropos of nothing perhaps, but I like to think we can make it work.

This past weekend was dedicated to doing exactly that--letting my imagination wander.

I went back to The Porches with a group of writers from the James River Writers. Shawna, Mike, Katharine, Kristi, Adam, Leila, and I cut our ties with our daily grind and escaped.

Armed with our current Works In Progress, we sequestered ourselves and then threw ourselves into our writing. Some of us hoped to begin something new. Some came to add to their current project. Others were putting final touches to completed projects.


I sought a beginning for my new steampunk story. If you've visited my facebook Author's page - Denise Golinowski/Author - you've probably seen one or two of my Picture Prompt Story Snippets. Lady Aimes and Professor Algenon have featured in the majority of them and are clamoring to have their story pulled together. Thanks to this weekend, a beginning has been made and their story is off and running.



As is the structure of The Porches Writing Retreat, we spent the days in lovely, lonely pursuit of our goals, coming together briefly at breakfast and lunch. Then while twilight began to creep up the valley, we gathered for dinner and socializing.

Ah, the stories we wrote and the stories we told. Bouncing ideas off each other, and sharing suggestions for expanding ourselves and our work. There's nothing like sitting with like-minded souls and feeling the energies merge and weave.

Watching the lightning bugs flickering in the trees. Listening to the occasional train rumbling by. Scrambling toward the inner wall of the porch when the rain came. Sharing jokes, memories, and advice.



The Porches is a wonderful resource for writers. If you're in the area, seriously consider giving it a try. If you're not, seek out or create something similar for yourself. There's nothing so liberating as stepping outside your normal boundaries to test your inner boundaries.

Here's hoping you discover that your imagination truly has NO boundaries.

Taking a Break From Multitasking & Monday Fortune Cookie 7/8/13

When you multitask, you lose the essence of the moment.

SNARKY REMARK: Yeah, tell that to your boss and you'll probably lose the essence of your job.

When you multitask, you lose the essence of the moment.

Our everyday lives are filled with tasks, obligations, responsibilities. Multitasking is what we must do to fulfill what we can. For good or for bad, it's second nature to us all. And no matter how good we are at multitasking, we feel this essential loss in lots of little ways. The lack of time to just enjoy successfully completing a project. The sense that we have to push past every interim achievement in our rush to reach some penultimate goal. The feeling, when we drop onto our pillows each night that so much is yet undone, or could have been done better, or should have been savored a bit more.

A view of the 2nd floor porch

Last weekend, I had an opportunity to let all that fall way and focus on one thing and one thing only. My writing. Then, at the end of the day, I had the chance to focus on another single thing and that was the companionship of a lovely group of ladies, four of my blog sisters from Tea & Strumpets (our shared blog formerly known as W3). The venue was a wonderful writers retreat known as The Porches in Norwood,VA.

The view FROM the 2nd floor porch

Five of us drove up to this serene and secluded retreat: Leah St. James, Elvy Howard, Alexa Day, Sofie Couch, and me. We brought food, wine, and our writing. We unpacked, settled into our rooms, and put fingers to keyboards to let ourselves revel in the pure delight of writing.

My writing space

From breakfast to dinner, the rules are to be quiet and respectful of the privacy of other residents. We could write anywhere in the lovely antebellum house--our rooms, the main room, the porches or various seating areas tucked into nooks and crannies on the grounds. Instead of the usual demands upon our time, we had only to answer the needs of our bodies and our muses. We moved at our mind's pace, not the timeclock. We typed and scribbled and edited until dinner when we set aside our day's labors to enjoy good food and each other.

Seated on the upper porch, we talked and laughed. We nibbled desserts and drank wine. We watched the first star twinkle into view in the darkening sky and then ooo'd and aah'd over the nightly light show courtesy of hundreds of lightning bugs the soundtrack provided by a  single whippoorwill and a gazillion frogs.

First morning's light

It was a renewal of spirit, a confirmation of connection, and a celebration of sisterhood. A true opportunity to experience the moment--all weekend. Thank you, ladies, for joining me at The Porches and thank you, Trudy Hale, for making The Porches Writers Retreat the haven it is for writers.

Beauty, Originality, and the Monday Fortune Cookie 6/24/13

Beauty is simply beauty, originality is magical.

SNARKY RESPONSE:  But originality seldom wins the crown in a Beauty Pageant.

Beauty is simply beauty, originality is magical.

(Don't mind me, as I attempt to wax philosophical.
It's one of THOSE fortunes.)

Beauty is as simple or as complex as the beholder deems it.

As simple as a blue sky on a spring day or as complex as a waterspout on the open sea. As simple as a smile offered freely or as complex as a judge's nod at the end of a performance. Beauty is said to be natural, but the popular beauties owe as much to artifice as to nature. Beauty more often falls within specified parameters, is sought through pursuit of a strict regimen, is recognized only when conforming to the stated expectations of the beholder, making Beauty beholden to others.

When Beauty is a purely personal definition, that's when it becomes magical.

Originality is all about personal definition. Originality chooses not to acknowledge the power of standards when seeking something true. It dares to be different, dares to be strange, dares to be ugly to find beauty. Beware, originality is a double-edge sword. One stroke can earn you accolades, another stroke could cut you off at the knees. Dancing along that razor's edge, you have to balance the need to be unique with the drive to be accepted by fostering  independence from the judgement of others. Sometimes, the call of conformity will make you shy away from that precipice, playing up your fear of falling, of failing. Originality pushes right up to the edge, peers over into the unknown and then chooses to use that moment to create something new. Step off. Step back. Step out.

The magic of Originality is the Beauty it creates within the creator.

So here's where I'm gonna leave it. Anybody want to add something of their own to the mix? Please feel free.

Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay! It's Desiree!

I'm delighted to welcome Desiree Holt to Golinowski's Gambol. To quote from her website:

Romance Junkies said of her work: "Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.

She's got some great news and a contest. So, without further ado, heeeere's Desiree!

I’m baaccck!

June 23 CBS is rerunning my segment on CBS Sunday Morning. Watch Bill Geist roll his eyeballs when I read to him from Rodeo Heat. And speaking of Rodeo Heat, I’m running a contest to go along with this. Read the book, post a review, send me the link at desireeholt@desireeholt.com. You’ll be entered in a drawing for a $50 GC, Amazon or B&N. Each review counts as one entry.

Sounds like fun, right! Be sure to check your local listings and then tune in this coming Sunday to watch the fun!

For the curious, here is the book blurb for Rodeo Heat.

Maybe it's the animalistic heat of the rodeo-or the pin with special powers that the old woman all but forces her to buy... Whatever it is, within seconds of meeting rodeo rider Ben Lovell, Grace Delany's safe world crumbles in a voluptuous explosion of lust. Every night is something new. From the handcuffs to the intriguing sex toys, Grace gives in to it all, relishing her body's responses to this younger man. As Ben leads her from one earth-shattering climax to another, as her body softens and opens to him, all she can do is hang on for dear life and follow his lead. But when the rodeo is over, it may prove impossible to walk away from the man who's taken her on an outrageous journey of self-discovery...a man with no sexual limits or boundaries.

  

Intrigued? They say accessories make the outfit. Well, sounds like that pin and that Man are going to make Grace's life a lot more interesting.

Desiree also brought along a tasty little excerpt.

A warm hand closed over her elbow sending tingles of sensation rippling along her flesh. “Why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee while Melanie and Ross do their thing?”

“Oh, that sounds terrific, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” Melanie’s enthusiasm was hard to miss. It wasn’t just a chance for Grace to meet someone. Melanie wanted to play games with Ross and set herself up for later. She dug into her purse and extracted a piece of pasteboard from her wallet, holding it out to Grace. “Here’s your ticket. We’ll catch up in the arena.”

Ben palmed the ticket before she could grab it. “Great idea.

“But—” Grace had a feeling things were spinning out of her control.

“And Ben?” Melanie gave him a hard look. “You be real nice to my friend. You hear me? I know you’ve got manners hidden in there somewhere.”

Grace chewed her bottom lip trying to think of a way out of this that wouldn’t be too awkward, even while her secret inner self was yelling, Go with him, stupid.

“That’s okay.” She would have backed away if the aisle between the tables wasn’t so jammed. “Just give me the ticket. I can keep myself busy.”

But Ben Lowell was already steering her away and suddenly she found herself moving along with him as if were the most natural thing in the world. They found a picnic table in a far corner of the room that was surprisingly nearly empty and he settled her on the bench.

“I know I said coffee,” he told her, “but the stuff they serve here isn’t much good except as a varnish remover. How about a cold drink? Or a beer?”

Grace wet her lips nervously. “A cold drink would be fine. Anything. I’m not choosy.”

She watched him walk up to one of the food counters with a loose, swivel-hipped walk she’d seen on cowboys on television and in the movies. Unconsciously she rubbed the pin which seemed to heat her skin right through her shirt, wondering if the woman had been right and it was directing the course of her life. Melanie had hit the nail on the head about one thing. That course definitely needed changing.

“Here you go.” Ben set two tall cups of soda on the table, then sat down across from her.

“Thank you.” She forced herself to look up at him. “We haven’t actually been introduced.” She held out her hand. “I’m Grace Delaney.”

He took her small hand in his larger one and the touch of his flesh against hers sent the lust spiking higher. Good god. It had to be the damn pin. Maybe she should take it off before she did something embarrassing. Like throw herself at this man.

No, not me. Pin or not, that takes more courage than I have at the moment.

“Hello, Grace Delaney. I’m Ben Lowell.”

“I got that much.” He was still holding her hand and strangely, she had no desire to pull it away.

“I guess I just sort of took things for granted back there,” he told her somewhat apologetically, “but it looked like you weren’t too anxious to hang around Melanie and Ross.”

“She’s an old friend,” she told him, wondering how well Ben knew her.

He looked at her over the rim of his cup. “I hope you don’t mind my saying this and no offense intended but you and Melanie don‘t exactly seem like you’d have a lot in common.”

“You’re right but we’ve known each other most of our lives.” She saw the tightening of his lips. “Believe me, I know exactly who and what she is but it doesn’t matter. She’s always been there when I needed her. That’s what counts.”

He glanced across the room at the woman in question. “I guess sometimes strange friendships are the best ones.”

Now that she was actually looking at her dream man in the flesh, Grace felt a bad case of nerves clutch at her along with the most consuming flash of lust she could ever remember having. She took a sip of her drink to steady herself.

“So. Are you competing in the rodeo?”

His mouth thinned for a moment, then he nodded briefly. “You’d think I’d have enough sense at my age to keep from getting knocked around anymore.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be polite to ask how old you are.” Shivers rocketed through her as his thumb caressed her knuckles.

“Thirty-two going on fifty.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Pretty young,” she teased, then wondered why she’d said such a stupid thing.

“Oh?” One eyebrow lifted. “I sure don’t feel that young. Would it be too rude if I asked how old you are?”

She tried to pull her hand back but he held onto it firmly.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Tit for tat.”

Squirming on the bench she said, “F-Forty-four.”

“Just the right age,” he said in a soft voice.

Oh my! Someone want to hand me a fan over here?

You can get your own copy of Rodeo Heat from:

Ellora's Cave

Kindle

Nook

Kobo Book

All Romance ebooks

Feel free to drop in on Desiree's website at www.desireeholt.com/

Thanks for dropping by, Desiree!

Sizzling Summer Reads Event! Let's Play!

Have you lined up your Sizzling Summer Reads!

Well, I'm here to help!

http://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php

I'm participating in a spectacular promotion over at The Romance Reviews blog. About 400 authors are participating and there are loads of wonderful prizes. I'll be offering a copy of Collector's Item to one lucky soul who plays my game on June 17th. 

TODAY!

So, go on, pop over to The Romance Reviews and register to play. You can't win if you don't play and, honestly, what have you got to lose? Nothing. And even if you don't win a prize, you're still a winner because you'll be piling up a list of TBR books for your summer enjoyment.

COLLECTOR'S ITEM
Available from The Wild Rose Press

Alpha were-jaguar, Katarina "KT" Marant is trained to protect the pride so when her aunt disappears, KT naturally takes up the hunt. Her suspicion settles on the Collectors, humans who view shapeshifters as the ultimate big game.

Peyton Allers can't believe he's got to blow his cover to rescue a shapeshifter "princess." Even harder to believe is that she wants to stage her own kidnapping in order to catch the leader of the Collectors and find her aunt.

Everything goes sideways when KT is kidnapped for real and by someone she never suspected. Will Peyton find her before time runs out? Or will she become a true Collector's Item?