Wednesday, July 30, 2008

What I Did For Love....

I don't have a compelling artistic background.

I’m the oldest child of two loving parents, who are still married after 35 years. To each other. We were spanked as kids, but only when we absolutely deserved it. (As a parent, looking back, I see why we deserved it.) We were never what you’d consider well-off, but we always had full stomachs, comfortable clothes on our backs, a roof over our heads and a reasonable expectation that this would continue.

Instead of angsty teen poems about dying roses and unicorns, I started out writing humorous essays about dinner-table political discussions with my dad. Which were far more abusive toward my dad than myself. Poor, sweet patient man that he is.

Along the way, I’ve felt sort of guilty that I’ve never suffered for my “art.” When I expressed this guilt to my husband, David, after signing my first book contract, he was insulted on by behalf.

“What do you mean you haven’t suffered?” he demanded. “Think of all the TV you missed while you were writing!”

Sarcasm sort of runs in the family.

As David pointed out, I've had to make the following sacrifices:

- I've never seen one episode of The Hills.

- I'm just now getting around to reading the Twilight series. (I've decided to admit Stephanie Meyer is brilliant rather than resent her success.)

- I was fired from my Dunder Mifflin Infinity Branch for failure to participate in The Office-related assignments.

- Snacking. I'm paranoid about spilling or crumbing up my laptop, so evening hours once spent munching are now spent diligently typing. This may explain any notable drop in sales for Frito-Lay or M&M Mars, but sadly, no drop in my pant size.

- Cross-stitching and cake-decorating. I have a pretty steady hand at both, but time for neither. Our daughter's going to have a storebought birthday cake for the first time in her life this year. She can't wait.

So I'm not exactly Poe or Plath. Maybe my lack of a lifelong struggle could be considered a struggle unto itself. Maybe it's more impressive that I've managed to become a decent writer despite the fact that I have no deep well of scourging pain to draw inspiration from. Maybe my “normal” factor is a curse unto itself.

So, really, I've overcome a lot. : )

Monday, July 14, 2008

I'm on!

I had a total "squee!" moment this morning when I decided to randomly enter "Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs" into the search engine and found it was available for pre-ordering. I had to call my mom and tell her, which means she should be calling half the state of Missouri by now. (If you're reading this, your phone will probably be ringing any minute.) I had to seriously restrain myself from starting a discussion thread titled, "Author Dying To Talk to Anyone Remotely Interested in Her Work" on the attached forum page.

You can find the link to the "proof that I exist in the literary world" here:

I've been up to my ears in re-writes lately, so it's been a while since my last blog entry (sorry, Susan. A few updates-

*My very wise Pocket Books editor, Jennifer, and I have elected to change the title of the series from to Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs. It's a little more "Southern" and fits with Jane's perspective as she is constantly told what Nice Girls do and do not do by her loving Mama. The official release date of the book is now March 31, 2009.

*I believe we've settled on Nice Girls Don't Date Dead Men as the title for Book 2, which will be released in September 2009.

*I can also be found on the Pocket Books web site, - which is also incredibly exciting.

*I have an ISBN number. WOOHOO!