Following My Heart

Do you ever have one of those days when your mind can’t seem to settle on any one thing but is constantly jumping around like a jackrabbit on drugs?  Well, I’ve been going through a string of days like that.  Haven’t gotten any writing done to speak of and for the first time in years, I didn’t put up my Christmas tree on the day after Thanksgiving.  Just wasn’t in the mood.  What’s up with that?  Usually Christmas is my favorite time of year.  I count down the days for months, waiting for Thanksgiving when I can put up my tree and then dive headlong into the season.

Not happening this year and I’m not sure why, but I think perhaps it’s because I submitted my paranormal romance, Unwiling Angel, to another publisher even though I have no idea how things with the first publisher, Twilight Fantasies, are going to turn out.  I just don’t know if it was the right thing to do, but I was sick of biding my time while the owners of TFP decide what they’re going to do, so I submitted.  I didn’t try to hide anything from the new publisher and I have to tell you, I was blown away when they wrote back saying they’d like to offer me a contract.

That’s when the doubts started to set in.  I hesitated, worried that I was going to drag them into this mess with TFP and okay, I’ll admit it, also worried that my writing career would be hurt in some way if I signed the contract.  I talked to my lawyer and he advised me not to sign, but to wait a few more months until we know a little bit more about what Twilight’s going to do.  So, I wrote the new publisher and explained why I wouldn’t be signing the contract and…

the owner called me at home!  That one really knocked me for a loop.  I mean, it’s extremely flattering that they were willing to take a chance on the manuscript in the first place, but to call me at home and give me the reasons she thought it was okay for me to sign with her company?  That was, to say the least, over the top pleasing and gratifying!  It also warmed my heart because of all the books and stories I’ve written, this one is my favorite.  I really want to see it published.   Perhaps I was blinded by that, but this morning I followed my heart, signed the contract and sent it back to them.

The thing is…my mind is still worried.  Why?  Well, I’ve narrowed it down to three things:

1)  I had been thinking of putting in some extra work on the manuscript; adding about thirty-five thousand words, taking it from novella to novel length; fleshing out the love story between the heroine and the hero; and while I was at it, spicing it up a little bit.

2)  This is another new e-publisher and I’ve been burned twice–well, actually I was only singed on the first one, but the second one was a full-out, writhing-in-agony, burning-at-the-stake conflagration–and I swore I’d never take that chance again.

3)  I know several authors who will, like my lawyer, think I’ve done the wrong thing.  I’m not looking forward to sharing this news with them.

Okay, I think I hit the nail on the head with that last one–selling a book should be a happy occasion.  Right?  Oh hell, it should be a screaming-from-the-rooftop, champagne-corks-popping, day-long-happy-dance!  That’s how I felt with every book and short story I’ve sold, and the fact that this publisher is interested enough to take a chance on my novella, knowing that if TFP files for bankruptcy, the rights could be held up for unknown amounts of time in a court case, should at least edge that celebration up to a week-long event…but I’m just not feeling it right now.

Hopefully, once I announce it, my friends and fellow authors will surprise me.  I’m pretty sure my lawyer won’t, but hey, he’s a lawyer.  What can you expect?  This was a decision made from the heart and everybody knows lawyers don’t have hearts–oops!  Sorry Paul, couldn’t resist that one! 

All kidding aside, I’m hoping some day I might be able to look back on this and know following my heart was the right thing to do.

My Silver Lining…

Last week was an exciting week for me as a writer.  I received my signed contract back from my new publisher, L&L Dreamspell, along with a welcome from the owners, and an invitation to join their author group.  My days were spent up-dating my web site–which still needs a lot of work!–polishing the blurb for my upcoming book, Snow Shadows–I think I finally got it right!–and writing–or trying to write–a bio for my author page on LLD’s web site.  Ugh!  I really, really, really hate doing those things!  What I didn’t spend much time doing was writing.  I only managed to churn out a few thousand words and with Thanksgiving coming up this Thursday, I’m pretty sure I won’t get much written this week either. 

That sucks, but I’m not complaining.  I consider myself very blessed to have a book–or three–coming out in print next year, to be able to spend time working on projects of this nature–okay, let’s be honest here, to waste a lot of time doing what others could do in a mere fraction of the time I spend doing them–and to…well, I won’t say enjoy, but at the very least, to be challenged by what I’m doing.

I was never much for challenges before, but these days I consider myself something of an expert.  What happened to change me?  Multiple Sclerosis.  I was diagnosed five years ago and since then, challenges have become a daily part of my life because the most predictable thing about MS is…it’s never predictable.  I have days when I struggle just to get out of bed and get dressed and I have days when I start out fine then the fatigue suddenly descends and knocks me flat.  I have days when my balance is so bad I have trouble walking and I have days when my thought processes don’t click the way they should.  And then there are the days when the monster goes into hiding and I’m not even aware it’s there.  For me, as I imagine it is for everybody with this or any other incurable disease, each day is a crap shoot, you just never know what you’re going to get. 

The thing is…whatever challenge MS throws my way, each day is also a blessing because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from having MS, it’s to value each day and do whatever you can to make it count.  It’s a good policy to have, don’t you think? 

So this year on Thanksgiving if I’m asked what I’m thankful for, MS is going to be on my list–not for having it, but for the things it’s taught me.  Maybe I’m looking for the silver lining to this cloud that at times obliterates the sun from my life and at other times only hovers on the horizon, but it’s my cloud and it’s not going to go away.  I can either embrace it or let it smother me.  

I choose to throw a congenial arm around its shoulders and make it…well, if not exactly a friend, at least a bearable companion.

Rebels, Squaws, and Devils, oh my!

The Tampa Bay Devil Rays have officially changed their name to the Tampa Bay Rays.  Why?  Well, apparently “Devil” is the latest word being targeted by those people who demand we live in an unoriginal, white-washed, politically correct world.

That really bothers me because I see it as moving one step closer to a ”Big Brother Society.”  But perhaps, that’s just me.  I am, after all, a product of the baby boomer generation and God knows, baby boomers have a tendency to look at the world through slightly different and much more cynical eyes than most people.  We practically perfected the idea of questioning authority and ended up changing the world.

My first taste of political correctness–though it wasn’t called that at the time–came when I was a senior in high school and we were told by those in authority that we would have to change our name, “Rebels”, lose the icons of the Confederate soldier and flag, and stop playing “Dixie” at ball games.  I had no problem with dropping the flag and soldier, and even the song if we had to, but I did have a problem with changing our name.  “Rebel” doesn’t necessarily mean someone who fought for the South in the Civil War.  Its true meaning is someone who rebels or is rebellious.  In other words, an individual who thinks for his/herself.  When you get right down to it, that’s exactly what our generation was all about.

Years later when my husband and I first moved to Maine, the top news story was that the government had decreed that the names of all geographical locations with the word “squaw” in them would have to be changed.  I followed the news reports for a while, all the time shaking my head at the number of people who jumped on the bandwagon just so they could stand up and proclaim their “political correctness.”  Most of them didn’t care one way or the other about the name, they just wanted to be seen as a do-gooder in society.  Bah!  How is it doing good to change the name of a city or mountain or even a creek?  Seems to me these people would have done a lot more good for society by standing up for something that could really make a difference in our world like <insert personal choice of rebellious cause here>.

Which brings us to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays–and I understand Tampa Bay’s not the only sports team dealing with this problem.  Idiocy!  I mean, really, can’t we come up with something to counter all this political correctness in our society?  God knows there are any number of things worth fighting for, things much more important and earth-shaking than the word “devil” being used in the name of a sports team.

I think Shakespeare said it best, “What’s in a name?”  And I’ll add to that by asking, is it worth fighting for?  Well, okay, I’ll grant you in some cases it is, but in most cases it’s nothing more than people trying to take away our individuality.

The thing is…that sucks.  I shudder at the thought of living in a world where every person is a carbon copy of everyone else, where Big Brother is always watching, and we, as a society, bow to his wishes.  Perhaps it’s just the baby boomer in me coming to the forefront, but we are not all alike and I’m pretty sure our creator didn’t intend for us to be.  Sure, we’re all basically the same, but we’re also individuals, and it is our uniqueness that makes us shine.

I have a sweatshirt that says, “Celebrate Diversity!”  And oh, wouldn’t I love to see that adopted as the rally cry of today’s generation?  Who knows, like the baby boomers with their “Make love, not war” slogan, a generation which celebrates individuality just might change the world for the better.

**Friday Folly?

**I’m not sure, but I have a feeling that this post may turn into a “Friday Folly”–hence  the asterisks and question mark.  Oh well, we’ll see.

Twilight Fantasies Publications has closed its doors and the authors–of which I am one–have no idea what’s going to happen next.  Will they file for bankruptcy, thereby leaving the future of our books in the hands of the court?  Or will they just fade into oblivion, thereby leaving all their authors to wait and wonder if it’s safe yet to re-submit their work?  Who knows?  I can give you my opinion–I think they’ve packed up their toys and gone home and we probably won’t hear another word out of them–but that certainly isn’t etched in stone and fair warning, it’s based more on my own personal hopes than facts.

So, I’ve been reading a few of the blogs and watchdog sites which have seen fit to comment on the closing and I’m very dismayed by some of the posts by other authors.  Particularly those made by authors who are more experienced and thus in a much cushier position than authors who are just starting out–like me.  Normally, I enjoy reading the thoughts and remarks of people who know more than I do about a given situation, but this time around, I’m a little…um, sickened by their smugness.

The thing is…these authors who are speaking from their loftier perches on the ladder of success, seem to be well, I think blaming is too strong a word here, so let’s just say implying that when an author gets caught up in the death throes of a dying epublisher, said author has no one to blame but herself.  I’m sorry, but I don’t get that.  Haven’t these people ever heard of compassion?

Apparently not.  A few of them have even gone so far as to say we–meaning the authors who are caught up in the <insert name of epublisher who’s gone belly up here> debacle–were so “desperate” to get published, we would have handed our rights over to just any old Tom, Dick, or Harry on the cyber-space highway as long as they offered us a chance to get our work out there.

Now that just flat-out pisses me off, and I’m here to tell you it isn’t so.  Not in my case and not in the case of countless others who have–or will in the future–go through this.  I’ve been privileged to read the work of some of those authors and I can tell you, these are not fly-by-night, anything-for-a-quick-buck, looking for glory, desperate authors.  These are writers who have poured their hearts and souls into their work, who have taken the time to learn how to write a book, and who, in some cases, are turning out better work than some of the crap written by several of those best-selling authors published by the big New York houses–and trust me, you don’t even want to get me started on the unoriginal junk that’s being churned out by those people.

Okay, so there are authors out there who think it’s our fault we’re going through all this heart ache.  Where do they get that?  Perhaps–and I’m quoting a fellow author here–it’s their “Diva Attitude” that makes them say things like this.

…and even as I write this and worry that some of those “Diva Authors” are going to take a very big, very vicious bite out of my ass for it, an email just came through my inbox warning of yet another epublisher–one that’s been in business for a while and by all accounts was one of the more stable ones–that is closing its doors.  If it’s true, several of those “Diva Authors” are going to be caught up in this one and we’ll be able to see how they handle it.

Poetic justice?  Maybe, but I prefer to think of it as sweet revenge.  Which probably makes me sound like a spiteful bitch, but I can’t help being glad they’re going to get a taste of their own medicine, because I know for a fact it won’t kill them…but it is a bitter pill to swallow.

Got sugar?         

Payback Time

Okay, I wasn’t going to write about this, but the fact is, I’m still mad about it and I can’t think of any other way to get it off my mind.  So, I’m going to get it all down, and I apologize if it’s all a little garbled and incoherent, but hopefully once I get through with this blog entry, that’ll be the end of it.

A little background first, I’ve been locked in a battle with an epublisher for the rights to my book, Unwilling Angel, which won first place in their Zuzu’s Petals writing contest and was published by them.  After various breaches of contract, I wrote them and told them I wanted my rights back.  They, in turn, wrote me back and tried to blame me–and a few other authors who were asking for their rights back–for the whole mess. 

Now, while I have written a little about this fight, I’ve managed to avoid coming right out and saying the publisher’s name.  Not that it would’ve taken a genius to figure it out, but I at least tried to keep my mouth shut and not spread vicious rumors.  As of this past weekend, that’s over with.  Last Monday, Twilight Fantasies Publications shut down their web site and on Saturday, they shut down the author’s loop, the reader’s group, and their blog site–all without having the courage to come out and warn the authors who had remained loyal to them.  No word, no explanation, not even a “go jump in the lake,” even though the authors who were still with them were practically begging them to post something on the author’s loop and explain what was going on.  They didn’t see fit to do that and the lack of explanation has taken me to a whole new level of fury.  Not for myself–well, okay, a little for myself–but more for all the authors they left hanging.

Okay, so Twilight Fantasies Publications is owned by a husband and wife team.  I know the wife is a teacher and it’s my understanding the husband is too.  The wife is also an author who writes erotic romance under a pseudonym, and the husband seems to be very protective of her.  To a point.  When all of this started happening, he was quick to cite her illness as the reason behind the lack of communication and their failure to honor their contracts.  But he, as co-owner, never stepped up to the plate to do anything to help her run the business, just made excuses and quite arrogantly suggested that it was the fault of the authors because they weren’t doing what needed to be done to keep the business afloat.  WTF?  It’s his business, and while most authors are happy to do whatever is needed to sell their books, most aren’t willing–or able–to step in and run a publishing company.

So, in my eyes, he’s no more than a spoiled brat who knows he’s in trouble and is doing everything he can to point the finger of blame at someone else.  Sure, he took up for her, but if he really was fully behind her, he would have stopped issuing excuses and done whatever he could to save the business.

He didn’t, he was way too busy trying to find someone to share the guilt and in so doing, he shoved the guilt firmly back in her corner.  She will be the one to suffer for all of this–if, that is, she has even a smidge of conscious–and the suffering isn’t likely to end with the demise of her business.

As a teacher, in a state which I’m told frowns on anything that even approaches pornography, I have to wonder what will happen to their careers if all this gets out.  She writes erotic romance–something a lot of people say is nothing more than dressed-up porn–and beyond that, she and her husband were running a business that dealt in erotic books.  Doesn’t matter that they also published books which were ”sweet romance,” most of the books they were selling were erotic.  And I think that’s the only thing the condemners will see.  As a teacher, I don’t think I’d want to be in her shoes–or his either, for that matter–if that ever comes out.

Now, as to her being an author, what I want to know is how could she do what she did?  She’s an author, for Pete’s sake, how could she treat other authors that way and live with herself?  Didn’t she think about how she would feel if she were the one on the receiving end of that type of misbehavior by a publisher, or is she, like her husband, so childishly arrogant that she thought she could get away with it by pointing her finger at everybody else?

The thing is…what effect this whole ugly mess will have on either or both of her careers is yet to be seen.  I have a feeling it isn’t going to be pretty when it all comes out.  I mean, I’ve lived in the south for most of my life and I can’t see the residents of the Bible Belt letting her–or him–off easy.

So, one career down, one to go.  I can’t imagine some other publisher, especially one who knows what she did, accepting anything she writes for publication.  One thing I’ve learned, cyber-space is a small world.  Now maybe there are some out there who might take a chance and publish something by her, and I have to say it’s my wish that she finds them.  But, I also have to be honest and tell you, if she does find someone who will publish something she writes, I hope they’re as unscrupulous and uncaring of their authors’ feelings as she and her husband were.

Because, well, payback’s a bitch.

When God paints in my life

Fall has arrived here in the mountains of western North Carolina and God is painting my world with wondrous, sparkling color.  All I have to do is look out my window to see it, but I’ve been so caught up in all this mess with my publisher–more on that later!–that I haven’t paid much attention.  Until yesterday when, as if to remind me not to take this beautiful array of colors for granted, God steered me in a new direction.

My husband and I were looking at a house that we’d noticed a couple of months ago when it was listed as a lease to own deal.  We liked the house, loved the location, but the price they were asking for rent–with the never certain option of buying–was way too much.  I mean, why would we pay close to two thousand dollars a month to rent–essentially–when we could buy for the same or less.  So, anyway, when the real estate agent called and said they’d listed it for sale, we went to take another look.

It’s located on a road that runs beside the French Broad River then veers off to go up a mountain.  It has an acre of land with it, and is almost completely secluded from houses around it–which is a very big deal for someone like me who isn’t a “people person” and would be happy if she never had to actually talk to another person.  The only thing we don’t like is the amount of development going on around it, but we’re pretty sure we can live with that.  Still, my husband, knowing how I am and being slightly anal on top of that, decided we needed to drive around and check out the rest of the area to look for signs of future development…

and don’t ask me how, but we ended up in Pisgah National Forest on a one-way gravel road that wound up the side of another mountain then back down again.  We still haven’t figured out where we went wrong, but we spent almost an hour on that bumpy, winding road and when we finally got off, we were on the Blue Ridge Parkway, thirty miles west of Asheville.

The thing is…that unplanned drive brought home all I was missing by not looking out my window every day and noticing what was going on all around me.  God is painting furiously and He’s using not just all His colors, but every hue and tint He can find.  My favorites are the yellows, everything from brilliant, sundrop lemon to muted, dusty gold, and the reds, which range from dazzling, garish crimson to intense, smoky burgundy.  The other colors of the rainbow are there too; the oranges, blues, greens, and even touches of deep violet in some of the red leaves.

So, my world is a living rainbow right now.  Is yours?  Take a look out your window…and I hope you see not only the colors all around you, but also the promises and hopes to be found as God swirls the different shades on His palette and creates a glorious, ever-changing masterpiece!