I recently posed this fun (I hope) question on facebook:

Tell me what you would do…

If someone gave you a completely free year at a university what FIVE subjects would you study?

I was walking with my friend, Joan, the other night. We are both working mommas with kids in college and we talked about this for a long time. It was fun.

My answers? Art – the impressionists. Creative writing (of course). Modern Lit. History of Europe 1500 – 1800’s. Art – painting. (NO talent here at all in art, but thought it would be great to dream with a paintbrush in my hand) And you?

These are the answers…feel free to add your own!

 

 

 

 

It’s rarely a good idea to be up at 4:26 in the morning, highlighting huge parts of your manuscript, pressing the DELETE key, and cackling.

No, it’s a very bad idea.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

 

Hello everyone,

Today I’m turning my blog over to author Nicole Baart. I rarely do this, okay never, but I really liked her essay on advice to debut writers.

In other good news, Nicole’s wonderful book, The Beautiful Daughters, is on sale for $2.99 as an e – book!

http://www.nicolebaart.com/the-beautiful-daughters/

 

To Every Debut Author

by Nicole Baart

I just celebrated the six-month birthday of The Beautiful Daughters, my eighth novel.

That’s a bit of a surreal sentence to write. I still can’t believe it. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was five years old, and the understanding that I get to do this thing that makes my soul sing is really rather unfathomable.

Yet here I am, celebrating another milestone… And it’s still as fresh and dreamlike as it was when After the Leaves Fall made its debut in 2007.

But that’s not entirely true. It can’t be. I’m no publishing ingenue, even though I may still feel like it sometimes. Over the last eight years I’ve signed books for hundreds of people who waited in long lines just to say hello. And I’ve driven over an hour one way for an event that drew in exactly two people (one of whom was an elderly lady who came for the air-conditioning and fell asleep in her chair).

I’ve received a starred, featured review in Publishers’ Weekly, and cried over reader roasts that called me “talentless” and implored people not to waste their money on my “pathetic book.”

I’ve written novels that required light editing and others that I had to overhaul. One book I entirely rewrote–not once or even twice, but three times.

It’s been a journey to say the least. One that has been full of surprises (like the phone call I received asking me to write a novel in collaboration with a celebrity), disappointment (I’ve had a book “flop”), and joy (like, every single day I sit down and put pen to paper).

I’ve learned a lot along the way, and though I’m hardly an expert, I want to share a few of the things that are rattling around in my head as I reflect on The Beautiful Daughters and the journey I’ve been on.

I’m not sure what to label these musings. Insights? Advice? Maybe these are just the things I would like to tell my twenty-something debut novelist self as a thirty-something seasoned author.

To every debut author: 

Write what you love. But be smart about it.I’m one of those people who has a hundred stories on reserve. YA, fantasy, sci-fi, romance, chick-lit, thrillers… I hope that I get the chance to write them all, but for now I understand that a sudden jump from upmarket women’s fiction (what I currently write) to, say, YA fantasy (which I have a folder full of notes for) would cause me to confuse, and maybe lose, a lot of readers.

I’m not saying I’ll never write that haunting, somewhat dystopian young adult book with a twist of magical realism and an edge of thriller, but I’m biding my time. Trying to build an audience.

Connecting with readers who love bookclub fiction and honing my storytelling skills. It’s where I need to be right now. Abandoning the tribe I have (no matter how small) would feel a bit like leaving a party I’m throwing smack in the middle of the evening.

Don’t be defined by sales (or lack thereof). Of course a NYT runaway bestseller would be about the greatest thing ever (surpassing even having drinks with Nathan Fillion or being chosen as a contestant on Dancing with the Stars).

But whether the books sells 1,000 copies or 100,000, don’t lose sight of the fact that you wrote a book. You bled on that page (maybe even literally—paper cuts are an industry hazard, people) and a part of your soul is forever captured in those words.

That is a huge accomplishment! Be proud of what you’ve done! Don’t let anything diminish the significance and beauty of your work.

Along similar lines: don’t read your reviews. Okay, fine, read a few, but have the grace to LET GO. Be resilient and… buoyant. You have to be in this industry. Only the people who have a decent sense of humor and don’t take themselves too seriously will have what it takes to endure the roller coaster ride that is publishing in today’s market.

You win some, you lose some. A few will be enthralled by your work, a couple will detest it. The majority will fall somewhere in between (i.e. they won’t give two hoots). All of that’s okay.

At the end of the day, it’s you in the mirror that’s staring back.

Have fun! Embrace the experience. Throw yourself into it arms, and heart, wide open. There will be so many incredible moments, and if you’re too busy worrying about sales and reviews and whether or not you’ll get another contract, they will pass you by.

Take pictures. Smile big. Drink wine with friends and throw yourself an epic launch party and sign your books with the flourish of someone who thinks every word you put on the page is brilliant (or, almost).

Take selfies with your book baby. At some point, open up that big, beautiful book you wrote and curl up in a chair as if it’s someone else’s. Read it with fresh eyes and marvel at what you’ve done.

Don’t take it for granted. It is a dream come true. Pinch yourself all you want, but you won’t wake from it. Come what may, this book will forever be yours and no one can take that away from you.

And, yet. Yet.

Don’t assume you have “arrived.” Don’t wait for readers (and publishers) to flock to you in anticipation of your next book. It is a fiercely competitive market and you will have to work hard if you want to remain a part of it.

Be diligent, never stop learning, don’t expect any handouts. Be gracious to other authors and view them as friends, not competition. And never, never be unkind or arrogant in dealing with editors, agents, bloggers, reviewers, or, well, anyone. Mama’s rules still always apply.

Rock your bad book self and don’t be afraid to try to sell books. It’s what’ll keep you doing what you love. And if it makes you feel icky (it certainly does me!), remind yourself that not many professionals are forced to hawk their own wares for a paycheck.

But this is the life we’ve chosen, and for better or worse, it’s a part of our story.

And in the spirit of #6, might I suggest that you take a peek at The Beautiful Daughters?

She’s my book baby and I think she’s gorgeous. Excuse me while I go take a selfie with her.

Happy reading, friends!

Create confidently,

Nicole Baart

 

Thank you, Nicole!

 

Amy, before we get into “the guts,” so to speak, of your wonderful book, The Good Neighbor,  I have to tell you that I loved the first line, “The doorbell rang and I knew it was my ex, just like when my lip tingled and I knew it was a cold sore.”  

 I just laughed out loud. Dare I even ask? Is any of this book your personal story?

Nope. The Good Neighbor is not about me, but there are overlaps.

Izzy and I are both divorced moms, and while divorce is no laughing matter, you have to find humor in the horrendous situations we find ourselves in sometimes. (Like having an ex-husband show up at your door twenty minutes early.) I’m also a blogger like Izzy – but in contrast – all my blogging (since 2006) has given me the opportunity to be completely honest and Izzy uses her blogging to tell, let’s say, tall tales.

Or we could call it a Giant Fib. A tiny lie. I loved it. I cringed when she did it, and I kept reading to see what would happy in her future because of it. But I won’t ramble on.  It’s your story, tell us what The Good Neighbor is all about.

In a broad sweep I’d say The Good Neighbor is about accepting yourself wherever and however you happen to be in any given moment and not looking at “the other guy or gal” and wishing.

More specifically, The Good Neighbor is about Izzy Lane, a newly-divorced mom who just can’t find her way. She’s not yet used to being single and is struggling with that, and with the fact that her ex has started dating someone “normal” and her dates have all been duds. It takes her a while to realize she has nothing to be ashamed of, and a lot to be happy about.

Izzy Lane writes a blog about men, dating, life. She did it because she wanted “some sort of a journal…And to be someone else. Someone whose world wasn’t upside down and inside out.”

Izzy made up a person named Mac and pretended that he was a real person, her boyfriend, even talking about him on her blog. 

She writes, “Mac was perfect because I’d invented him – all six two of him, with his full head of dark hair, his humble upbringing, his self – made career. What was his career again?  Did he have one? I wasn’t sure. Oops. But more important than any career was that Mac was devoted to me. Of course he was. He was my cyber version of Weird Science.”

Now that’s a whopper. How did you think of that element? What was the spark for it?

Sometimes it really sucks to say, “No, I’m not dating anyone right now.” So I wanted Izzy to hate it so much that she lied about it, which initially made her feel better. I’ve thought about doing the same thing but I don’t have the energy for lying. Too much to remember. As Izzy finds out.

If you made up your own “Mac” what would he be like?

Just like Izzy’s. Duh. I think I’d add a Scottish accent. Because, why not? You can help me with that, right?

Let’s both agree there is something about a muscular man in a kilt, shall we?  Tea. Crumpets. Scotsman. Yum.

Your character talks about the column she writes “Philly Over Forty.”  A few of her column titles, Cover Up, Buttercup; I Kid You Not, Don’t Do It; Rules Are Meant To Be Broken (However You See Fit.).

You write a column for writers, have you ever thought about writing a column for single women covering these same types of topics?

When I started blogging in 2006 I did write some dating posts because I was divorced and it was more of a mommy blog back then. Now? No, I haven’t thought of that, but come to think of it – THAT’S A GREAT IDEA, CATHY! I have been single now for over twelve years and have a lot of opinions (and experiences).

I would absolutely read your column, Amy, on being single, men, dating, etc. And I’m sure thousands and thousands of other women would, too. There’s definitely a space for it, so start writing, girlfriend.

I understood and appreciated this quote in your book, “The opposite of love was not hate. The opposite of love was not sarcastic retorts.  The opposite of love was not spiteful thoughts. The opposite of love – this love – was indifference.”

I completely agree.  Was it always your goal to get Izzy to this point in her life, where she could look at her ex husband and not want to kill him, where all she felt was indifference, and all she wanted was what was best for her son?

Yes, it was always my goal for Izzy because it was how I approached my own divorce situation way back when. I just wanted what was best for my kids and parents with animosity is never best for kids. I realize sometimes it’s unavoidable but since this was fiction – nothing was impossible.

I wanted Izzy to be okay without Bruce–okay whether she had a man in her life or not. That was key.  You know my motto – I write fiction where the main character saves herself.

We’ve jumped around a little bit, so let’s back up. Tell us a little more about yourself. 

I was born young. I was bald, but very cute. Sorry. I need to amuse myself sometimes!

I was born in Philadelphia, like Izzy, and grew up on a street just like hers! (Street scene pictured here.) It was really important to me to set a book in a Northeast Philadelphia neighborhood, but I didn’t want to go back to the 1970s (when I grew up) so I  had Izzy move back there now.

Unfortunately, where I grew up has changed, so I reimagined the area and voila – Izzy’s street is what I wish that neighborhood were like now (but isn’t).

I’ve always been a writer but I’ve also been a cashier, administrator at a synagogue, pre-school teacher, and right now I work at a NY Jewish-style deli in the suburbs of Chicago. (Would you like a knish with that chapter?) It all feeds my writing and this new job also feeds my belly!

You write an online writer’s blog titled “Women’s Fiction Writers.  No Heroes, No Zombies, No High Heels. Well, Maybe High Heels.  https://womensfictionwriters.wordpress.com/. 

It’s one of Writer’s Digest top 101 writing blogs. Congratulations, first off. Then, secondly, when did you start writing the blog?  What are your goals for it? What do you like best about the work you do on the blog?

Thank you! Though I started blogging in 2006, I started the WFW blog in 2011 because I couldn’t find anything online that met my needs as someone NOT writing romance. So, I followed the advice of a friend and created the online space myself.

My goal is to share authors, books, and writing craft information with aspiring authors and published authors who write whatever we call Women’s Fiction. There’s so much out there for romance novels, and other genres, I wanted a place for US to go and be together!

The best part of the blog is reading guest posts early, and interviewing authors. I always ask questions I want the answers to, and I use my Journalism degree. A two-fer!

What are the other publications that you’ve been in?   Can you paste some links in of a few of your favorite articles and essays?

I’ve had dozens of articles, essays, and stories in publications including The Chicago Tribune, Writer’s Digest, The New York Times and Washington Post blogs online, Chicago Parent, Huffington Post, and The Grey Sparrow Journal.

Asking me to pick my favorite? Egads! I’m probably most proud of my Tribune pieces and my first one is one of my favorites.

Not only do I think it’s a fun article, but it reminds me that anything is possible. Here’s a link to my first published article/essay in The Chicago Tribune: http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2006-12-10/news/0612100058_1_cookies-shortbread-gingerbread-man

I’m also really proud of the short stories I’ve had published. Here’s one from Grey Sparrow Journal. I have a love of writing about older people. Older meaning 80+. Not sure why, but there is one in each novel and many of my short stories.  http://greysparrowpress.sharepoint.com/Pages/Spring2011ShortStoriesNathan.aspx

What is your day like? When do you write? How do you manage to write your books, your blog, and the other essays and articles that you publish? Do you set writing goals, divide your time each day?

My day starts with the dogs. Literally. I have two old dogs who like to wake me up some time between 4 and 5 am. I let them out and make them let me go back to sleep. Then I’m up by 5:30 to feed them. Then sometimes I go back to sleep again.

I’m always up for the day by 6:30, and early mornings I take care of business like my blog, setting up social media stuff for the day, answering emails, etc. But if I’m home for the day, I start writing by 8 or 9. I’m a morning writer. That might change as my schedule gets more complicated – I have that deli job and freelance jobs and sanity to maintain, if at all possible.

I am not a middle of the night or late night writer. Most nights I am asleep, and I mean sound asleep, by 10.

Three places in America you want to visit very badly.

Mt. Rushmore, Montana, Seattle.

Three things you’re afraid of.

Heights. I get wobbly and feel like I’m going to lose my balance. Same goes for steps. A few years ago I fell down my basement stairs and I now hold railings for dear life. Other than that, frankly, I’m really not afraid of anything too much because I’ve had some scary things happen and I came out just fine.

Everyone, this is one excerpt from The Good Neighbor that I loved, and it will give you a snapshot into what this book is about…

I didn’t have the heart or the stomach to tell Ethan how much different parts of Philly Over Forty suited me, how getting lost in the ether of the Internet patched holes in my days and my heart. Comments popped up at all hours, from all over the country, reminding me how it felt to be listened to instead of talked at. As soon as a new post went live on the site, it was tweeted and facebooked, and Tumblred.

My recent post about sex after divorce, with no mention of Mac, went viral with more views than anything else on Pop Philly ever. It was peculiar to be popular. Peculiar in a heart pounding, ego boosting, anonymous kind of way.

Thanks, Amy, for your time, and best of luck with all your work in future.

Chat with Amy here…and do check out her writer’s blog. I love it.

Website: amysuenathan.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/amysuenathan

Twitter: @AmySueNathan

 

THE GOOD NEIGHBOR – forthcoming from St. Martin’s Press, October 2015

 

 

 

“I detest flying. You could correctly call it ‘pathologically afraid.’ I cannot breathe on planes. I know that I am going to die a fiery death as we plunge into the ocean.

I have studied planes, their engines, and why they stay in the air in depth. My studies took two years. I understand mathematical aerodynamics description, thrust, lift, Newton, and Bernoulli’s principle.

I even had three tours at Boeing.

I have talked to pilots and engineers and examined blueprints for planes. Yet the sensible part of me knows that the plane will crash at any moment because nothing this large, heavy, and rigid was ever meant to be in the sky.

This knowledge is in direct contrast to my physics studies. I acknowledge this dichotomy.

I sat down in my first-class seat. I need room if I fly. I don’t want to be sandwiched next to strangers who will be intruding upon my space by body part or by air. I prefer to die within my own confines.

Inside my carry-on bag I had these things: Travel-sized bottles of Scotch. My list folder. A handkerchief. Travel-sized bottles of whiskey. My own tea bags—chamomile, peppermint, and for my adventurous side, Bengal Tiger. Three journals to write in if my writer’s block dissolves. Pictures of my cats. Travel-sized bottles of tequila.

Two books on gravitational physics and evolutionary biology.

I adjusted my glasses. If we’re going to crash, I want them to be sturdily placed on my nose so I can see our doomed descent. My glasses have brown rims. I affixed clear tape on the left arm, as it’s cracked. I’ve been meaning to go to the eye doctor to get it fixed, but the tape seems to be functioning well. It does make my glasses tilt to the left, though. Not much of a problem, except if one is worried about appearance, which I am not.

I rechecked the top button on my beige blouse to make sure it was still fastened. I had been able to get most of the blueberry and ketchup stains out of it. If I end up in the ocean, I want to be covered. No need to show my ragged, but sturdy, bra.

My underwear is beige or white, and cotton. When there are more than two holes, I throw them out. High risers, you could call them. I like to be properly covered, no tiny, lacy, itchy tidbits for me, even though I put McKenzie Rae, the heroine in all of my time travel romance novels, in tiny lacy tidbits that do not itch her.

If we crash, I can assure you that my underwear will stand up far better to the fire and flying debris than a tidbit would.

I situated my brown corduroy skirt and took off my brown, five-year-old sturdy shoes and put on my blue slippers with pink rabbit ears that Bridget sent me. I took out a tiny bottle of Scotch, as my hands were already shaking.

My seatmate, a man who appeared to be about my age, was white faced. “I hate flying,” he muttered. I heard the Texan drawl.

“Me too. Here. Have a drink.” I pulled out another bottle.

“Thank you, ma’am, I am much obliged.”

We clinked our tiny bottles together. His hands were shaking, too.

We both breathed shallowly. “Close your eyes, inhale,” I said. “Find your damn serenity. Think of your sunflowers…bells of Ireland…catnip…sweet Annies…wild tea roses…”

“Think of your ranch…” he said, barely above a whisper. “Think of your cows. Your tractors. The bulls. Castration day.”

The vision of castration day was unpleasant. I closed my eyes again.

We inhaled.

We drank.

We shook.

We took off. I started to sweat. So did he.

“My turn,” he said when we were done with the first bottle. He handed me a tiny bottle of Scotch out of his briefcase.

“Cheers to aerodynamics, thrust, lift, and Bernoulli’s principle.”

“Cheers to your green eyes, darlin’. Those are bright twinklers. Brighter than the stars in Texas, may she reign forever.”

“Thank you. May Newton’s laws reign forever.”

Third round on me.

Fourth on him, ordered from the flight attendant, who said cheerily, annoyingly, “Nervous flyers?”

The fourth round did the trick. We decided to sing the National Anthem together, then “Frosty the Snowman” and two songs by Neil Diamond. One was “Cracklin’ Rosie,” which made him cry, so I cried, too, in solidarity. The annoying flight attendant asked us to be quiet.

We sang “The Ants Go Marching Down” in whispery voices, then I taught him a Scottish drinking song about a milkmaid. We woke up in Amsterdam, his head on my shoulder.

I wriggled him awake. “It was a pleasure getting drunk with you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, green eyes,” he drawled in his Texan drawl. “It seems we have arrived alive.”

“We did our part. Praise to Newton.”

We stumbled off the plane, shook hands, and I caught the next flight to Edinburgh. I forgot to change out of my blue slippers with pink rabbit ears before I walked through the airport. No matter. The top button on my beige blouse was still buttoned and I was in one piece.

I put my hand to my head. Lord. I hate flying and I hate airplane hangovers.”

— Charlotte Mackintosh in My Very Best Friend. A time travel romance writer who has no romance. A hermit on an island who goes skinny dipping. A woman who puts her cats into a specially made cat stroller. She’s a lot of fun.

What item in your home do you absolutely LOVE and cherish? I cherish this mug. It’s my late mother’s coffee cup and I remember her drinking out of it.

I see the rainbow colors and it reminds me of her smile, her courage, and her compassion for others.

She has been gone for so long now, but I SWEAR, sometimes when I’m drinking out of her mug and I’m thinking about what a totally wonderful mother she was, I can hear Bette Jean laugh.

So often, the items we cherish have zero financial worth, but they’re priceless to us, aren’t they?

 

Answers below from my facebook friends…

• • Barbara Khan I made a mug on Saturday with a ladies group I belong to. We are waiting for them to be fired. I can’t wait to use it. What lovely memories you have of your mom with this mug. Maybe I’ll pass mine on too.
  • 

    Diane Haeger So beautiful.. My mom has been gone just 9 months but maybe it’s time for me to bring out something of hers too. Thanks for the lovely prompt today, Cathy heart emoticon
  • Anne Gerrish Mitchem I have a poem that my Uncle wrote for my Mum back in the early 1970’s about what she meant to him. My dad made a frame and it hung in their various homes. Now it hangs in mine. Part of Mum and part of Dad. Priceless ~ heart emoticon
  • 

    Jenny Collins Belk I have my Mom’s old raggy hat (her Go To Hell hat). She always wore it at the beach. Miss her infectious sense of humor.
  • 

    Samantha Buxton I have one of my Gammy’s purses she used to carry. It’s big and is a perfect reminder of her. It’s just hanging on a hook in a closet and for the longest time it smelled of her and her perfume. She was never shy with perfume. I still smelled like her long after seeing her and her hugging me. I miss her and I regret not spending more time with her.
  • 

    Stephanie Elliot so beautiful. Your words. The mug.
  • 

    Wendy Webber Deloge My Dad passed away in November 2007 and this was the very last birthday card I got from him. He just always put so much thought into the cards he chose for me. We always had that special father daughter bond. I always loved that he put so much thought …See More

    

    Unlike · Reply · 1 · September 28 at 11:55am
  • 

    Sherie Nash I have my mother in law’s tin measuring cup…she used it nearly every day of her adult life…my favorite sister in law put it in her purse the day of the funeral and passed it too me to be sure that I got it…I love to bake like Gladys did…it means more to me than nearly anything I own, and it’s dollar value is almost nothing.
  • 

    Elaine Donoughe Allen I cherish my Mom’s hand written recipes! It’s all I can do not to cry when I see her hand writing! She has been go 8 yrs but feels like yesterday 
  • 

    Myra Lamers Levitre This caught my eye Cathy. Also my heart. 
    27 years ago I lost my mom. I smell her randomly. No matter where I am, any continent, and season, when she is there, always the same smell fills my body. 
    Priceless. I just know you enjoy your moms laughter. Miracles and blessings are everywhere when you believe deeply. Thanks for sharing this it was beautiful. 
  • 

    Myra Lamers Levitre My father also. Different scent.
  • 

    Alissa Schad I love this picture my son gave me for Christmas one year. I used to read him the book with the bunny’s ” i love you this much” so he made this for me and it makes me smile all the time

    
  • Barb Dowdell MacKenzie I have four ceramic pieces that my mother made- an elephant cookie jar, cookie monster cookie jar, a ceramic jar that looks like a green pepper and a figurine of a “blue girl”–all have been broken and glued but I can’t throw them out.
  • 

    Kelly Ambrose Hays Cathy – your mom was so nice – I have great memories of her and a few epic slumber parties at your house.
  • 

    Leigh Beeman My mom collected frogs. She found this wonderful artist Janice Hester who made cool frogs all playing musical instruments. I have about 40 of them and when I open the cabinet I can hear the music. They made her so happy!
  • 

    Nancy Deress My Mothers Pyrex nesting bowls (yellow, green, red, and blue; big to little). Everything she baked involved using one of them. Every time I use them I think of a dish she made and the memory with it.
  • 

    Iris Harrison There’s so many items that I love and cherish, and that’s the problem.
  • 

    Sandra Jean Lawrence My mom died just last winter, and I have all of her knitting needles. Every time I knit, I think of her, and see them in her hands.
  • 

    Tina Hengen A little crocheted angel my grandmother made for me after my house burnt down! There are other little treasures I have but that’s the one thing I cherish most!
  • 

    Jodi Nielsen A little hand-made quilt that the chaplin at the hospital gave me to lay over Rich while we were in the emergency room – it was the last thing I could do to comfort him while I held his hand as he passed. It has become a very cherished keepsake from which I draw comfort. It will be 5 months on Oct. 2 since I lost him.
  • 

    Jenny Collins Belk So sorry for your loss Jodi.
  • 

    Jeff Shipman I understand, Jodi. Our church had a prayer shawl ministry for several years. My father in law died with his. It’s still a regular participant in Karen’s life. 
    
    I’m so sorry for your loss.
  • 

    Mich Lueken This lady vase is one of the things that I love and cherish so much. It was my sweet Mom’s. It sat on her dressing table with her makeup brushes in it and then later on her night stand. Now, its on my night stand and every time I look at it I think of my beautiful Mom.

    
  • 

    Judy MacGilvary So sorry for your loss, Jodi – our church makes prayer shawls – I’ve crocheted several. When my husband passed 9 years ago another church sent a quilt that was precious to us.
  • 

    Danee Marquand Hayungs My mom’s Texasware mixing bowl. I also have a few pieces of jewelry from my mother in law I’m holding for my teenage daughter. My mother in law is in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s and she loves her grandkids so much. We wanted to make sure the kids had some special things from Grandma.

    Unlike · Reply · 2 · September 28 at 7:44pm
  • 

    Jessica Morrell I’ve been wearing my mother’s pearl ring since March
  • 

    Jenny Horak Smearman I cant say i have 1 favorite thing, as most of my stuff came from family members,.

    Unlike · Reply · 1 · September 29 at 4:00am
  • 

    Holly Robinson I love this, Cathy. I cherish my great-grandmother’s blue willow plate, hanging now above my fireplace. It has crossed the ocean by ship three times, from England and back, with different family members.
  • 

    Jacqueline Mallon Spenger My grandmothers bible. It was bought in England by my father to give to her.
  • 

    Eileen Goudge My favorite things are a mug and teapot my sister made. Handpainted with her designs, they’re a treasure worth more than gold. I think of her whenever I make my morning tea
  • Susan Swager Becraft My favorite thing is a cup and saucer my mother brought all the way back from China years ago. My dad hated to travel, and after he died, she and her college roomie were unstoppable. I treat those fragile things like gold because I always think of Mother when I make tea. I don’t think mother-daughter relationships ever end.

    nt…

• • 

    Donna Fosbrink Way back in the 80s when we were in high school, my best friend and I actually bought each other the exact same coffee mug for Christmas. This friend passed away several years ago but I still have the mug. Of course it is chipped, but I refuse to part …See More
  • Kelly J. Phillips When I was a teenager, I was obsessed with Angels. My brother gave me an ridiculously ugly, distorted looking Angel candy dish for Christmas. It was the few times we didn’t argue. He passed away a month later. I treasure that dish. Every time I look at it, I laugh. I think now that I’m older that was the intention all along. When I see him again. we’ll laugh at it together.
  • Terri Hilton My mother used to always tell me she would always be with me to help me be strong whenever I felt stressed. She said ,”just reach down into your pocket, and I will be the lint you find there and I will always be with you”. She’s been gone a very long 15 years now, but she’s still always with me. No matter my outfit, she is ALWAYS there. 
  • Carolyn Cooper Guzy An old teapot my Dad bought for my Mom one anniversary. She loved it so. I remember her crying tears of joy when she got it. She put bittersweet in it every year at this time & I now do the same. I hear her talking to me too. Love never goes away.
  • Cindy Bailey McCarty I love when you share memories of your mother. I have a Snoopy glass that I always used at my Grandmother’s house. My kids aren’t allowed to touch it
    Also, my kindle. It was a gift from my husband and one of my most favorite things in the world.
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    Sheryl Weitzel I have a painting my dad did when I was about five for our kitchen. It has been in my kitchen now for over 40 years!
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    Janet Bailey My Slovenian Ladies’ Cookbook. I only use it a couple times a year for holiday baking, but it was my mother’s and has all her hand-written notes in it.
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    Katie Wayt My Jiminy Cricket glass I always drank with when I went to my Grandma’s house.

    
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    Joni Cape-Everson I have a flower dish by my bed that my Grandma made !!
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    Ken Robin Davis Absolutely, no value to others, priceless to us. I have so many, most recently I have been wearing my grandma’s earing, they are just little plastic ball ones in white, pink, orange and green and yes, I wear all 4 at the same time because each ear has 4 earing holes smile emoticon
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    Cathy Davis My grandmother collected China tea cups. After she went on to her next adventure their were enough of them we each got one.
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    Carol Ann Yankey This flower pot my daughter Jenny painted for me when she was in Middle School. She’s 30 yrs old now.

    
  • Colleen Richardson I have a teddy bear that my late father gave me for Christmas when I was in Junior High. His name is Bear and I just love him. He has his own special place on my bed.
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    Chris Hetherington I have 2 woven cover lets that aren’t in perfect condition– they were obviously used for decades- but they were woven in Wayne County Ohio before 1850 and belonged to my great- great- great grandparents.
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    Amy Nathan A small blanket of itchy crocheted squares made by my grandmother.
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    Lyn Browne I have a crocheted throw mama made.
  • Bettyann Waller the lil frog pot, with an orchid, from Mom’s house..miss her
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    Victoria Powell I still have the short stories my mother wrote and got published (when she was in her fifties). I typed them up, added old photos to illustrate them, and put them in an album. 
    I also have her old (worn and tattered) Better Homes and Gardens cookbook.
  • C. H. Armstrong Oh gosh. I don’t know! I guess my grandmother’s bedroom furniture most closely fits that description. It belonged to my grandmother (whom I never met but was named after). My mom then used it in her room my entire childhood, and then I used it in my…See More

    Like · Reply · Message · September 29 at 3:48pm
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    Dusti Douglass The cup my grandfather used to keep his shave soap in. When I was very little, we would “shave” together, he with his razor and me with a razor-shaped shoe horn. (If only we had selfie sticks back then.) I have his cup in memory of those moments. smile emoticon

    Like · Reply · Message · September 29 at 7:15pm
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    Wendy Holmes Graham heart emoticon

 

One wonders when this will end, these shootings, these tragedies.

One wonders how many of our kids have to die before we say, “That’s enough.”

One wonders how many more smiles we have to lose, how many I love yous we have to miss, how many weddings will never take place, how many grandchildren will never be born.

Need a fall book, ladies?

If You Could See What I See is on sale for $2.99 on Amazon kindle, free for Kindle Unlimited. Excerpt below…

http://www.amazon.com/If-You-Could-See-What-ebook/dp/B00BPYGP2W/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1442940958&sr=1-1&keywords=if+you+could+see+what+i+see.+by+cathy+lamb

 

If You Could See What I See

Cathy Lamb, whose My Very Best Friend is out now, balances “cat chatting” with writing romantic scenes.

Those of us with cats who also write books know exactly what she means by that. (Cathy, incidentally, is not related to me, though we would obviously make awesome relatives, seeing as how we both have chatty black cats.)

Cathy Lamb: My black cat, KC, keeps me company while I write my novels. As you can see by her glasses, she is very smart and serious, dedicated to her role as Cool Family Cat.

She often sits and stares at me while I type away on my laptop. When she wants to share her wisdom, she meows at me and I meow back. She continues this meowing conversation for quite a while sometimes. If I do not meow back, she gets her feelings hurt, I’m sure of it.

It is rather hard to concentrate on writing while meowing, especially when I am writing a love scene, but I try to be brave and bold and persevere through having a cat chat.

I often use animals in my books. In If You Could See What I See, my character Meggie O’Rourke has a nephew who loves animals. His mother will not allow any more animals in their home as they already have a small zoo, so the nephew, Regan, starts to bring them to his indulgent Aunt Meggie in her tree house. Below is a short excerpt about Pop Pop, a naughty dog who always seems to be grinning; Mrs. Friendly, a male lizard; and Jeepers, a cat with social anxiety problems.

On Tuesday night, with Pop Pop bouncing beside me, grinning, in trouble because he’d had another fight at doggy day care and was on probation again, I came home to a hamster home complete with colorful tubes and a hamster running on a wheel.  A bag full of hamster stuff like food and shavings for the cage sat beside it.

Regan had written a note: “This is a nice girl hamster. My friend, Seth, is allergic to it, so his parents are making him give her up.  Her name is Ham the Hamster. I think you’ll like her because she’s a good listener and curious.  I’ll come and visit. Seth wants to come, too.”

I bent down and peered into the cage. Ham the Hamster was running with all her might on a wheel. I don’t know why. “You’re going to tire yourself out,” I told her. She took no notice.

I carried her in and put her by Mrs. Friendly, the lizard. Mrs. Friendly stuck his tongue out.

Pop Pop darted in and went to play with Jeepers. Jeepers didn’t want to play. I could hear him hissing.

I had a hissy cat, a weird dog on probation, a bored lizard, and a hamster that ran for no reason…

—

My latest novel is My Very Best Friend. This is the best way to sum it up:

 

An old stone cottage in Scotland.

An overgrown garden. A man in a kilt.

Lingerie bike riding at midnight. Tea and crumpets.

Two best friends.

One is missing.

Find out more about Cathy and her books and connect with her through cathylamb.org.

MORE ON HEA: Check out an excerpt from Cathy’s ‘My Very Best Friend’

EVEN MORE: Check out other romance authors and their pets

 

http://happyeverafter.usatoday.com/2015/09/20/cathy-lamb-my-very-best-friend-cat/

Can you relate to this frog? I can. I was watching her the other night on our window.

She climbs up, she clings. She hopes she doesn’t fall.

She goes up, no good, goes down, no good, to the side, no good, then she just hangs there.

Waiting.

Clinging.

Thinking.

Hoping the next decision is the best one…Yep. I get this frog.