Author: Jonathon

Twenty-nine pages. Even I’m impressed. Admittedly a goodly portion of those pages were already written, just a matter of editing and smoothing the edges since they were lifted from DANSE MACABRE. But this is where they belong, this book. Two chapters about Edward, and they fit nice and snug. Cool. I think Richard will be introduced in the next chapter. I’ve made some notes, and if they work, he will end up surprising Anita and me in a good way. Cool, again. I think Jon and I might even be recovered enough from the convention to work on the script this afternoon. We’ll see after lunch. We did the big work out yesterday, weights, push-ups, sit-ups, cardio, the works. Today is only the small weights day. After yesterday it will seem like a vacation. The pages have printed, time for lunch.

Six pages today. Though I may end up throwing it all out. It will at least get pushed further into the book. The six pages have nothing to do with Edward. So I’ll put the six pages later, if needed, and just do what I’d planned on doing which was calling Edward. The pages dragged today because the front of my head was trying to force the back of my head to shut up and be reasonable. I should know better. The back of my head was right. I’ve done some research now, and the technology that I’d planned will take hours and hours, not an hour. You know how I say don’t do research until you’ve got a draft done, there is one exception. If you do not have enough information to intelligently plot a sequence. Which was my fate today. But I was determined to bull my way through. So, I have six pages that will probably never get used, and get to jump back to where I began the day and start again tomorrow. My subconscious wanted to just jump to Edward, but nooo, I just wouldn’t have it. We had to go in order no matter how much I wanted to just go to Edward. Yet another reminder in my life that just because something is fun and is exactly what you want to do, it doesn’t make it the wrong thing to do.

Well, first full day home. First day back at work. Spent the morning kind of wandering around like I usually do after a convention. I don’t think Jon and I actually went to sleep before 1:00 A. M. any night of RT. The dances were fun. It was great putting faces with some of the names that Darla and others mention from the board. It was very good to get to talk to people in person. We met lots of people, and were much more social than usual. We took our friend Charles with us and his presence made me feel comfortable being out and about more. The signing on Saturday was huge. Jon and I have no idea how many people were in line. For a while there it was as if the line never moved no matter how many people I signed books for. I finally realized that as people finished with other writers at other tables they would come into our line, so there was no way to judge the number of people or the length of the line. And yes my arm was hurting by the time we finished. Thanks to everyone who helped out at the signing, we’ll post a more detailed thank you later. I managed to do 22 pages today, so I’m fried. I want to do the full thank you post when I’m fresher and less punchy than this. For now, just my heart felt thanks. You guys made the signing a much more enjoyable and less overwhelming experience for Jon and I. You also made Charles’s job easier. Thanks.
But the point I was trying to make was that once we iced my arm from shoulder to fingers for awhile, I could move it, and I wasn’t in horrible pain. I also was able to sign from around 10:00 in the morning to around four or so in the afternoon without a break. We didn’t have to ice my arm in the middle of the signing. That night I was able to go out to the dance and my arm was working just fine. The signing really showed me what a difference the four days a week of weight training has done for my arm. I must keep it up religiously between now and the big tour at the end of June. Jon and I even used the treadmill and the weights in the hotel. Sometimes we manage to use a treadmill, but I’m not sure we’ve ever actually used the weights on a tour. But the weight lifting has made such a difference to my arm, that it’s not a luxury. It’s also put both Jon and I down several pants sizes, which is also cool. But the coolest part was having my arm still usable later the same night as a signing and not being in grinding pain for twenty-four hours afterwards. I can’t tell you how nice that felt. Several people that had seen me at previous signings remarked on how much better I was doing.
Earlier today I was getting tired, and still hadn’t been to work. So I thought I’m either going to have to have a nap, or try to exercise. I chose the exercise. I did the treadmill, and felt better afterwards. It helped me get to my desk and back to work on the next Anita book. Like I said, 22 pages today. Even I was impressed with that after a break of five days, and at a convention on top of that. Usually that throws me for awhile. But the book is ready to go, and I think part of it is that I knew I was close to Edward’s introduction in this book. I’ll have to go back and do some small changes to the pages I wrote today. Small metaphysical choreography changes, then I get to get the chapters I cut from DANSE MACABRE and put them in. The chapters where I actually had Anita call Edward for help. Edward tomorrow, finally, on paper. Knowing it was so close I think helped inspire me today. That and a good run on the treadmill. But now I’m beat. Jon is finishing up homework with the kiddo, and he’s actually encouraged me to go to bed early. That usually means I’m looking pretty tired. I know that things are way funnier than they should be. Always a sign that I’m pushing it. Our friend Richard is still downstairs. We only have a few more weeks of him here, then he’s off to Italy. This was the last convention, or tour, that we will ever come back to and find Richard waiting for us here at the house. It will seem strange, and a little sad.

Well, its Sunday and we’re home from the 2006 Romantic Times Conference. We had a good time and met (and re-met if that is a word) some really wonderful people.
A more detailed Con report may follow.
Dunno… We’ll see how I feel later… Maybe…
Cheers

OK, most of you know that we’re headed to the Romantic Times Convention in Daytona Beach, FL. Darla, Laurell, Charles and myself were all planning on going.
This has changed.
Ok. You can all stop panicking now. Laurell, Myself and Charles are still coming to Fl. Darla isn’t. She managed to wrench her back and sprain her ankle yesterday and her doctor wants her to not move farther than necessary until Friday, and then to take it easy after that.
So, All of you who were expecting to see Darla with us at RT, I’m sorry that you will be disappointed.
The rest of us will just have to make do without her there.

Happy Mother’s Day everyone. For all those children out there who don’t have an official mother, as I did not as a child, you still have a mother. The person who takes care of you the most, that’s your mom. It doesn’t matter if it’s your dad, or your grandmother, or grandfather, or an aunt, or even someone not related by blood. Do they take care of you? Yes? Then you’ve got a mom. As a child I didn’t think I had one. My mother died when I was six, so I spent years watching kids in school making mother’s day gifts and being completely left out. It wasn’t until I was in late elementary school, like fifth or sixth grade before I realized I had a mom. My grandmother raised me. By the time I realized what she was to me, they didn’t have to make gifts in school for mother’s day. We didn’t have any extra money, but I wanted to give her something. I went to my favorite part of the woods near our home armed with a big spoon, and a small plastic bag. I dug her up a wild violet; a beautiful purple one. I brought it home and presented it to her. It would take me years to understand what that first mother’s day gift must have meant to her. We planted the violet in the flower bed, and it grew bigger every year. Until it was the size of a football, and covered in violets every spring for many years. I would give her other gifts over the years, but that was the first one that I gave without prompting, and simply because I wanted to acknowledge that regardless of titles, she really was my mom.
I lost my grandmother last year. She was ninety-four and ready to go. It wasn’t a surprise, and it was an end to a lot of pain for her. The family cried and joked that Granny had been trying to get this many of us together for years on mother’s day weekend, now here we were. Even in death she got her way. I wondered why I was upset yesterday, I couldn’t figure it out. It was my very smart husband who pointed out that last year I was at my grandmother’s funeral on this weekend. I didn’t cry, not a tear. Everyone else cried, a lot of tears. I didn’t. I was strong for my daughter, because it was her first funeral, and I didn’t want to cry. I’m finally able to cry. A year later, and I’m finally able to see past the anger and the grief, mostly the anger. My ex-husband is dropping off my daughter at noon. We are having dinner here for Jon’s mom, and great-grandma Helen. I guess this all started because I was picking out flowers to send to Mary and Helen. I started to pick out a third bouquet for my grandmother, then realized that there was no need. I even thought about trying to send flowers to her grave, but the florists get weirded out by requests like that. Don’t know why, I can’t be the first person who’s asked, can I? I finally realize that I’ve been on hold. I haven’t wanted to talk about her death, not really. I haven’t wanted to deal with it. I’ve been angry, and I’ve been resentful, but today I can finally begin to look back and go there were moments that were good. In some ways anger keeps you safe, but in the end it will eat you up. You have to grieve. You have to let go and grieve. If I could wave a magic wand I would put a bunch of violets on her grave, but I could not bear to stand there in that cemetery today. I could not bear to stand there between my mother’s grave and my grandmother’s grave. I could not bear it. Maybe next year. Maybe never. All I know for today is that I miss her, for better or worse, I miss her. Damn.

Feeling some better today. I’ve never had a book get to ninety pages then just stop, and tell me this isn’t working. I think the plot will get used down the road, but there’s something about the weretiger stuff that needs to be touched upon in the next as yet unnamed Anita novel. I’ve learned not to argue with my subconscious, I usually regret it later. But it still feels like wasted effort. I now have an almost equal page count for both books, how weird is that? Very weird for me, in fact, a first. I’m usually pretty goal oriented and driven, so once I’m this far in, well, it just keeps going. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. But my original plan was for Jon and I to finish up the script for GUILTY PLEASURES when I finished MISTRAL’S KISS. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me to get back to it. I’m also going back to the longer book. But today while I decide which way I’m shifting gears, novel or script or divide the day between, we’ll finish getting ready for the Romantic Times conference. Decide what clothes we’re taking, that kind of thing. All my comfortable dress shoes are wearing out, I have to go shoe shopping. I hate to go shopping, especially for shoes, because comfortable dress shoes for a woman is almost an oxymoron.

Well, finally back for another try at the blog. The day has been a hard one, so much so that Jon surprised me with roses when he came back from an errand. The flowers sit on my desk as I write this. Why has the day been hard? A variety of reasons, but the one pertinent for the blog is this one. The Edward novellite is falling apart. Either it’s a bigger book and not a novellite at all, or something that happens in the next Anita novel will effect events in this book. I should know better than to write a book out of timeline with Anita. Some small point will be raised, or character will be changed in the next novel that will effect this story. I’d planned on it coming out before the next novel, sort of like MICAH came out before DANSE MACABRE. But unless something changes that ain’t going to be happening. Or maybe the section I just started on weretigers is meant for a different book altogether. Or maybe it’s a rabbit hole, which means it leads nowhere. I can’t see the forest for the trees on this one, so I’m stepping back, catching my breath, and in a few days we’ll see. If the Anita novel takes off, and flows like crazy, well then the novellite was just not ready. But if the novel slows than maybe it’s just my head gone ugly. It happens sometimes, even to me. I’m going to bed. Be well, everyone.

This is a test. I just did a long blog about some of the research I was doing this weekend. The computer ate it. I hit save as a draft and blogger told me the post I wanted could not be found. So this is a test to see if it’s going to eat all the blogs today. I will post this and if the computer doesn’t eat it, I’ll try a longer more informative blog later today.

It’s Friday. No pages today, because I never got to set down at the computer. Until now. But I did start to decide what clothes are going on tour and what we need to replace. Shopped for the kiddo because she’s hit a growth spurt and suddenly in desperate need of new clothes. You parents know what I mean. So, not a bad day. A day full of things that needed to be done. This week we’ve had the pantry torn out and redone. The closest in Jon’s new office and mine have been finished up. We got shades on all the new windows. Our landscaper came out, and her crew finished up the yard. We have our first roses from the bushes planted last year. Our columbine is gorgeous. So, a very busy week comes to a close. I’m almost half way done with the Edward novellite, even with all the meetings and decisions that had to be made. So a good week. But I know that I have to work tomorrow, because otherwise I’ll loose all the momentum on the book and it will be like cold ashes on Monday. Gotta take the dogs out to the yard. Jimmy’s giving me that stare, the one that says you better get off that computer and open the door, or else. I’ll go open the door.