The winner of our GIVING UP THE V contest is:

Sonya Cassing

Sonya, if you could email your address to kelli at kelliestes dot com, we'll get the book to you right away. Thanks for playing and congratulations!

I'm so excited for this next release from my friend, Serena Robar. Leave a comment below and you'll be entered to win a free copy!

About GIVING UP THE V:

What’s So Wrong With Waiting?

Spencer Davis just turned sixteen. But unlike most hormonal teenagers who seem obsessed with sex — like her entire crew of friends — Spencer just doesn’t get it. She’d rather wait for the right guy and the right moment. But that moment may be arriving sooner than she’d thought.

Enter Benjamin Hopkins, a new transfer student who seems to have his eyes on our V-card-carrying heroine. He’s gorgeous, funny, suave, athletic, and capable of making Spencer’s knees wobble with a single glance. Spencer has never felt this way about anyone before, but is Ben truly V-worthy?

“This novel stands out for its thorough, no-holds-barred discussion of sex in its many forms—from the ugly to the beautiful.” -Publishers Weekly 6/8/09

About Serena Robar:
I spent my school days addicted to reading romances. Historical. Regencies. Old West, Native American. Pirate. The list goes on. I would tuck a Romance in my open science book and pretend to be following along with class when I was really lost in a fantasy world of happily ever after. Though my knowledge of mitochondria is woefully limited, I can boast a vast array of trivia about the pirate trade of the 16th century, American pioneer life and Regency etiquette of the Ton.

My reading habits have improved much and I still read when I should be doing laundry, making dinner and/or any household chores (we order a lot of pizza). In fact, when I discover a new author I will read their entire backlist non-stop. Literally. I won’t do anything else but read. Addiction is a dangerous thing.

I live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband and three children. Between reading and juggling family, I am hard at work writing. It’s my secret hope that my books will find there way inside text books, sparking the imagination and talent of the next generation of writers. My apologies to teachers everywhere.

Serena is also giving it away for free (the only time Momma would approve): Sign up for her newsletter here, and you are entered to win one of the books she is giving away every day in the month of June. Enter once and you are in the running to win a book every day the entire month of June.

Leave a comment below and you'll be entered in my contest, which ends Sunday, June 21st. Then, after you leave a comment below, double your chances of winning by heading over to Serena's site to win one there! Good luck!

*Contest only open to US and Canada

This morning I sent my six-year-old son off to school in tears because he was scared to go on his class field trip without me as a chaperon. My heart ached all day thinking about him, worrying about him, hoping he was happy at that moment. This is a scene we've lived through many times in his short life. He's a sensitive little guy with a heart so tender I can't help but want to shield him from the blows of this world. But I know he needs to start standing on his own two feet and finding strength from inside himself rather than from me or the favorite blanket he still clings to at home.

Talking with a friend today about her one-month-old baby, I realized that during all those oh-so-incredibly-long nights when I felt I was the only one awake with one of my own babies, the link between me and my child was tightening and strengthening. What my friend doesn't know is that while parenting will get a lot easier as her daughter grows up and sleeps through the night, in other ways it's going to get so much harder. It's torture to hold a crying infant and not know how to calm her screams and it's still torture when she's older and feeling pain from the world that she'll be able to do nothing about.

My sister's oldest is graduating from high school this weekend. For weeks, months even, she thought she was doing just fine, taking his leaving in stride. But today, when someone asked her how she feels about her baby graduating and moving away, she realized that this very morning she made his last school lunch…and she burst into tears.

Parenting is like that, I guess. Just when you become strong in one area, like comforting an infant or sending a kid off on a new school adventure, a new stage comes along to take your feet out from under you.

Will it ever ease? When my kids are adults living on their own, will this tug in my heart that connects me to them and their pain ever go away?

In one aspect, I hope so. In another, I never want it to go away no matter how painful it is – because having that connection is the greatest thing in the world.

I'm not one to read book excerpts. It doesn't matter if they're at the back of a book I just read, included in a book review, or sent by a friend, I won't read it if I don't have the entire book at my disposal. You see, if I'm hooked by the excerpt and I don't have the rest to read right away, I'm tormented for months until the book is released. Or, just as bad, when the book does come out and I pick it up and recognize the first few pages, I think that I already read it and I put it back, missing a great story. To avoid all that, I don't read excerpts, as a rule.

That is, until I stumbled across an excerpt for one of Emily Bryan's first books and only then did I read it in order to answer a question and be entered in her contest to win something. That's when I became hooked on Emily Bryan books. Every single excerpt I've read of hers, I'm blown away by the originality of the story and the realistic, yet larger-than-life characters. Obviously, I've purchased all of her books since. She's still one of the only authors whose excerpts I read.

If you're like me and don't generally read excerpts (or if you love excerpts!), I challenge you to read this one. As you'll notice, there is a character in this scene who doesn't have a name and is instead called "XXX". How cool would it be if YOU came up with a name for this character? Guess what? You can!

STROKE OF GENIUS CONTEST
Want to see your name on the acknowledgment page of Emily Bryan's next book? Here's your chance! Emily is giving her readers a chance to name an important secondary character in her upcoming STROKE OF GENIUS. The winner will receive signed copies of Emily Bryan's entire backlist (including A CHRISTMAS BALL anthology, due out Sept 29th). PLUS you'll be mentioned on the acknowledgment page of STROKE OF GENIUS. The contest begins June 1st and entries close July 1st. For more information, visit http://www.emilybryan.com.

When you're finished entering the contest, come on back here and share your thoughts on character names. Are there any that stick in your memory (good or bad)? Do you like characters in a book to have average-sounding names or fun, adventurous names? Do you choose names you'd like to have yourself, or go purely on that particular character's unique traits?

As for me, I find myself giving my main characters normal-sounding names (for the most part). With secondary characters I get a little more adventurous. Although, now that I think about it, my current manuscript is just the opposite. My two main characters, sisters, are named Charity and Serenity (but she goes by Rena). That's getting a little more adventurous, don't you think?

In case you're wondering why I've been so quiet lately...did I mention I'm the registration chair for the Emerald City Writers' Conference? Registration officially opened last weekend and I've been struggling to keep my head above water while also throwing two birthday parties for my son and trying to write. Want to make me even more busy? Register today! This is a fabulous conference that I highly recommend (obviously, or I wouldn't be volunteering for it!).

Emerald City Writers’ Conference

To register, visit www.gsrwa.org.

20th Anniversary
Emerald City Writers’ Conference
Sponsored by the Greater Seattle Romance Writers’ of America
October 9-11, 2009
Bellevue Hilton
Bellevue, Washington

• Editor & Agent Appointments
• Educational & Inspirational Sessions
• Book fair
• Chat Sessions with Your Favorite Authors
• Social Events for Networking

Join us as we celebrate the 20th Anniversary of the first Emerald City Writers’ Conference. In addition to group editor and agent appointments, the conference features educational sessions taught by published authors and experts in their field. Classes cover everything from the writing craft to online marketing. Chat sessions with best selling authors are also featured.

The annual book fair offers opportunities to mingle with your favorite authors. Several social events provide opportunities for networking with other writers, published authors, editors and agents making this annual conference a not-to-miss event.

Our Speakers
Keynote Speaker: Claire Delacroix
Featured Speakers: Lisa Jackson & Christine Warren

Special Guests
Cherry Adair, Elizabeth Boyle, Stella Cameron, Megan Chance, Bob Dugoni, Yasmine Galenorn, Susan Mallery, Bob Mayer, Jane Porter and more!

Editor & Agent Appointments
Registrants are offered the opportunity to pitch in group appointments to editors and agents of their choice; appointments are scheduled on a first come, first served basis, so register today! Emerald City Opener finalists will receive private appointments

Editors
• Wanda Ottewell, Editor: Harlequin
• Peter Senftleben, Editor: Kensington
NOTE: Peter will also be speaking at a session entitled “The Editor/Author Relationship: How to work with your editor from the call to published book and beyond”
• Megan McKeever, Editor: Pocket Books

Agents
• Steven Axelrod, Agent: The Axelrod Agency
• Alexandra Machinist, Agent: Linda Chester Literary Agency
NOTE: Alexandra is also speaking at a session entitled “What Every Agent Wishes Every Author Knew.”
• Vivian Chum, Agent: Prospect Agency

Registration is limited. To register, visit www.gsrwa.org.

I had the most amazing opportunity over the weekend to get together with fellow writers and help each other plot our books. Most of us are unpublished, a couple are published, and one is a New York Times Bestseller -- the totally-fabulous Cherry Adair. Cherry is awesome. I can't say enough good things about her. She is beyond generous with her time and advice. She truly and deeply yearns for our success as much as we do. Having her support has made a world of difference to my confidence when it comes to this crazy world of publishing.

So last Friday, after the Mother's Day Tea at my son's kindergarten (which made me feel so special and loved!), I headed to Cherry's guest house where a dozen of us writers were gathering for the weekend. We all came bearing food, chocolate, drinks, sticky notes, pens, laptops, and notes on our story ideas. Even with the pristine lake outside beckoning us (see picture), we were able to focus and get down to work. For a full day and a half, twelve of us plotted our stories together as we ate, drank, ate some more, and laughed a lot.

The best part, beyond the obvious of getting my plot holes filled, was the sense of sisterhood I felt with every person there. It was a group that was created by happenstance but that bonded into a cohesive unit. I can't wait to see every one of those books sell!

I wish this experience for all of you. And, guess what? You can have it! Cherry is offering a similar weekend experience through the Brenda Novak auction this month. Get together a group of your friends and bid on it. You won't regret it. I promise.

I heart Cherry, and I heart my fellow Cherry Plotters!

We writers find our ideas in odd and sometimes surprising ways. Take today for example. A Kirby (carpet cleaning system) saleswoman came to my door and asked, "Are you the lady of the house?"

In that flash of a moment, an entire story scene unfolded in my mind:

"Why yes, I'm the lady of the Keep," I answer, standing tall on the steps of my castle. Though the biting wind blows the constant drizzle into my face, I'm used to it, unlike my visitors who are huddling in their furs. "My husband, the Laird," I tell them, "is away on urgent business for the King and shall return in a fortnight."

I step back, motioning for them to proceed me into the great hall as I secretly signal for one man-at-arms to inspect the perimeter while another keeps an eye on the visitors, ready for a surprise attack.

"Please, come in and sit by the fire," I say to them as though I'm not at all worried about the safety of the people of this castle who are under my care. "I'll call my serving girl to bring you a tankard of ale."

And then, spying the cleaning equipment they have stacked on the wagon in the bailey, I say, "Oh, and as we have rushes on the floor rather than carpets. Perhaps you'd care to clean our tapestries instead?"


Obviously, if I'd said any of that out loud the Kirby saleswoman would have gone running as fast as possible from my house.

So, with a polite "No, thank you," I closed the door and she went on her way. But my mind was whirring. How cool would it be to write a Scottish Medieval in first person? I can't say for sure that I've ever read a medieval in first person. Or historical of any kind in first person. Are there any out there? (Please, tell me in the comments below if you know of any!) If memory serves, wasn't Diana Gabaldon's Outlander in first person? Could that have been one of the many, many reasons I loved that book so much?

As someone who resisted writing in first person for a very long time (and reading them, for that matter) it surprised me how excited I felt at this idea. No, I don't have a plot in mind. No, I don't typically write historicals (with the exception of one Victorian-era book set in the San Juan Islands of what was then the Washington Territory). But, should I choose to dive into the required research and write another historical, first person may be the way to go.

In the meantime, excuse me while I return to my chores. It's a lot of work to keep a castle running. I've got to keep those crafty cleaning peasants from absconding with the valuables. Plus, you never know when a raiding band from the neighboring clan is going to come steal our cattle or run off with our young maidens.

As you know if you've seen me at a conference or on many of the candid photos of me on Facebook, my left eye tends to wander when I get tired. My left eye is completely blind due to an injury when I was 3-years-old and, as my ophthalmologist once put it, my optic nerve "is totally toast". If you were to look inside my eyeball you'd see scar tissue growing out of the back that looks like a big white tree. My blind eye is no big deal because I don't remember having vision in both eyes. But when it gets to wandering I look cross-eyed and it's embarrassing.

I brought this up to my eye doctor last week and asked him if there's anything I can do about it. He was surprised to hear I have this problem. Apparently, most of the time when people have an eye that wanders it is because their two eyes are sending different signals to the brain which the brain has trouble processing. In these cases, retraining the brain is required. My left eye, however, sends no signals whatsoever to my brain.

My left eye is controlled by the signals sent to it by the right eye. When my right eye focuses on something to my left, my left eye follows. So, could it be a muscle problem, I asked?

After sitting there in his office, thinking for a few minutes, my eye doctor finally came to the conclusion that maybe my eyes are doing what happens to old people. Picture that little old lady driving down the street, her hands clamped on the steering wheel at ten and two. She's hunched over and staring straight ahead. She doesn't see the chaos on the sidewalks, the cars jerking to a stop on the side streets narrowly avoiding colliding with her, because she's got tunnel vision. Her peripheral vision has deteriorated over the years until now it's almost entirely gone.

That's me, the little old lady with tunnel vision. My range of vision is so drastically reduced that when I'm looking around at a lot of things – like clothes on the racks at the mall, or faces in the crowd at a conference – my eyes get tired and, eventually, my left eye can't keep up any longer.

The doctor suggested I do eye exercises every day when I'm sitting watching television with my family. If I do exercises at each commercial break for one hour-long program every night, that adds up to about ten minutes a day and I should see improvement in a couple weeks.

I left his office content with the plan. And then I got home and realized the flaw…I don't watch TV for an hour every day. I watch TV for two hours a week, Lost on Wednesdays and Castle on Mondays. Every other time the TV is on at my house, I'm doing something else like washing dishes, organizing toys, helping my son with homework, writing.

Maybe I'll do the exercises at stoplights. Or when I'm lying in bed at night. Or when I'm waiting to pick up my son from school instead of using that time to check email.

Or maybe I should just use it as an excuse to watch an hour of TV every day. Thanks, Doc!

I'm starting to succumb to the pressures of everything I need to do when there's not enough time in my day to do it all. Sure, my priorities should help me know where to apply my energies, but my two greatest priorities – my family and my writing – are often at odds with each other when it comes to where I should give my time. It seems, too, that I've lost sight of how to say "no" when someone asks me to do something for them. How did this happen? I used to be so good at knowing my limitations!

I'm chairing a category of a literary contest, chairing registration for a writer's conference, helping the PTA sell cookbooks, trying to keep up with this blog and Facebook, and trying to feed my family every day. No, I did not forget to mention keeping my house clean because I've already given that up. If you come over, please be warned that my messy house in no way reflects my respect, or lack of it, for you. I respect you and love you, but I just don't have time to keep my house clean. There, I admitted it. Whew, that's a load off.

Everything else that I can't let go of is weighing heavily on me. The other night I was talking with a good friend about my frustrations over not being able to find balance in my life. She gave me some excellent advice that I'll share with you:

You will NEVER achieve balance. All you can do is rebalance every week. Some weeks you give more energy to your family, the next to writing. As long as it balances out over the long run, you're doing fine.

It was a good reminder not to beat myself up everyday if I don't make my page goal or don't spend quality time with my boys. I'll make it up the next day, or the next week.

But I still won't do the dishes until I absolutely have to.

I've neglected this blog too long, just as I've neglected other things, like promised critiques, certain chores, emails, Facebook messages. I blame it on the weather, writing my manuscript, and Disneyland.

As those of you who see me on Facebook know, a few weeks ago my husband and I took our two boys to Disneyland. It was the first time for both of them so we stayed at the Disneyland Hotel and spent four days at the parks, trying to see it all, do it all, and be immersed in the Disney magic. While there I let everything go, like email, Facebook, nap schedules…but when we returned home it all came roaring back at me like a train through a quiet subway station. I resisted as long as I could, plugging my ears and repeating, "Nah, nah, nah, I can't hear you!" But, seeing that March is half over already, I'd better get on that train, starting now.

Oh, how I wish I could share with you pictures of my little boys' faces at Disneyland because the magic and joy there makes me weep. Since it's against our family policy to share personal pictures online, I'll show you instead what brought them such joy.

Swimming at the hotel:


The racing star, Lightning McQueen leading the Pixar Play Parade at Disney's California Adventures:


Meeting characters and getting their autographs on the streets of both parks, and at the character breakfast and character dinner we attended. Here are the Incredibles:


The special events such as watching Mickey's Fantasmic show on our last night there, or the morning we got into Toontown early and got to see Mickey, Minnie and the whole gang, while becoming honorary Toontown citizens ourselves.


The best moment for my six-year-old (and thirty-something husband, for that matter) was watching the Star Wars Jedi Training Academy where Darth Vader himself came out to battle young Padawans.



The Star Wars show was so impressive, my six-year-old's eyes welled up with tears afterwards and he told me, "Mom, I'm crying from coolness." That about sums up the whole trip for me.

Now do you understand why it was so hard for me to face reality?

This week I've been cleaning out my 6-year-old's room and switching his room with the guest room, just to change things up. In the process I'm trying to weed out old toys that the boys no longer play with. Among those toys was a box of stuffed animals which, upon seeing the discovery, my 3-year-old decided he must have, so I let him keep them in his room. A few hours later he brought me an adorable white stuffed bear with red hearts on the paws and told me he wants to give the bear away to his friend, Gees.

Now, if I haven't mentioned Gees before, or even if I have, let me bring you up to date. Gees doesn't exist, at least in the sense that anyone but my 3-year-old can see or hear him. He is very real, however.

Gees first appeared to my son when he was just a baby and we were living at our old house. I'd have my son on the changing table, talking and playing with him as I got him dressed, when all of a sudden he would stiffen in fright and stare at a particular spot near his bedroom ceiling. This was repeated over and over again for months. When he started talking, he would tell us about "The baby" he sees, always while staring at the same spot near the ceiling. It totally gave me the creeps, but what could I do about it?

At one point my son was terrified of his bedroom because of all "the animals" in his room at night (which he'd point out to me in the shadows. I couldn't see a thing). "The baby", however, no longer scared him and I'd hear my son in his room talking and laughing (I guess those were the nights the animals didn't come visit).

We moved out of that house a year and a half ago, when my son was two, and he never mentioned the baby or the scary animals again. But then, a couple months ago, he started talking about his friend, Gees.

"Gees?" I asked him. "Do you mean Jesus?" (Which doesn't make a lot of sense because we aren't a religious family. Although, my older son did attend a church-based preschool so he may have mentioned Jesus to his brother).

"No, Gees!" he would respond, frustrated with me.

Eventually he told me all about Gees. Apparently, Gees has a little brother still in his mommy's tummy and his house burned in a fire around Halloween time so he didn't have a place to live. Now, my son tells me, Gees is living in the same town as all of my son's grandparents, though Gees doesn't have enough money to buy decorations for the walls.

My husband asked our son last night, "When was the last time you saw or talked to Gees?"

"A couple days ago."

Ah, apparently that's when Gees told our son he needed a new teddy bear.

My son knows things about Gees that I don't think he'd come up with on his own so I'm pretty much convinced Gees is a friendly spirit. In fact, my son calls Gees his best friend, so I guess there's no need to worry.

I just wish I could figure out how to get that teddy bear to the poor kid.

What about you? Do you believe in ghosts?

When I find a new restaurant that I love, I have to tell everyone I know about it including you! Purple Cafe and Wine Bar is my new favorite restaurant and you can bet I'll be looking for excuses to go back any chance I get. Holy moly, I don't care what diet you're on, a meal at Purple is so worth blowing it! And, with three locations in the Seattle area (Woodinville, Kirkland, Seattle), one is bound to be on your path eventually.

Here's a description of the restaurant in their own words:

We are a multifaceted food and wine concept that merges casual sophistication with an upbeat metropolitan style. We feature a global wine selection coupled with a menu that blends classic American styles, seasonal northwest ingredients and Mediterranean themes. The atmosphere is often described as an urban retreat with rustic elements.

Obviously, wine is a big deal here so plan enough time to browse the 45 page wine and beer menu. If you don't drink, or don't drink wine, the food alone is reason enough to go.

Our big splurge started the minute my prosecco champagne was delivered to the table with a plate of crusty bread and fresh butter. The party in my mouth began. Soon, our first appetizer arrived: a special on the menu that night, bruschetta with calamari and roasted peppers. I'm glad our server warned us that, while the bruschetta will be hot, the calamari will be cold. It was SO good!

But I really fell head-over-heels in love with this place when I bit into our next appetizer: Baked Brie. If I could eat this everyday of my life, accompanied by a glass of prosecco, I'd die a happy woman. The brie comes on top of apricot preserves, caramelized onions and candied walnuts, all baked inside a pastry shell and served with house-made crackers and halved red grapes. I've always been a brie fanatic (who looks for excuses to indulge) but my husband has never cared for brie. We both loved Purple's baked brie. You've got to try it.

Soon our salads arrived. We chose the Grilled Radicchio and Squash salad that is served with mixed greens, dried cranberries, toasted pumpkin seeds, chevre cheese and apple fennel vinaigrette. The squash and the cranberries complimented each other so nicely that I find myself craving this salad again right now. Definitely worth ordering.

You may think between the two of us we'd be stuffed by now, but we had to try one more dish, the Gorgonzola Pear Pizza. This pizza was delicious and worth ordering again, although ours was a bit heavy on the rosemary.

Now, even though we were stuffed, our indulgence couldn't be complete without something sweet so we ordered decaf coffee (served in a French press) and Purple's own Sea Salt Caramels. I've been a fan of sea salt caramels ever since I bit into my first Fran's gray salt caramels and Purple's were just as good, but bigger (gotta love that!).

We rolled out of the restaurant happy and sated…and planning what upcoming special occasions are coming so we can return.

Now it's your turn. Have you had any delicious meals lately?

Sure, you've heard of dog owners resembling their favorite canine, but have you ever heard of someone resembling their pet crab? Hello, my name is Kelli and I'm a lot like my hermit crab…

I really hope I don't resemble Crabby physically (and if you think I do, well, let's just pretend otherwise) but socially, yep, we're practically twins.

Our pet hermit crab, so aptly-named Crabby, likes to sleep all day in his cozy warm cave and only emerges at night around 11:00pm. I'm just as much of a night owl, er, night crab. Getting out of bed in the morning is pure torture – every morning – and I drag myself through the day. Come nightfall, though, I'm finally alert and ready to go.

Crabby tends to be a loner, but not always. He had a crab buddy for a few weeks who sadly didn't survive the stress of the pet store and new habitat. But during those weeks when they were together, the two crabs would snuggle up close in their tiny cave to sleep all day. We had two caves for them, but they always preferred to stay together. I'm sure Crabby was sad when Hermie passed on, but he seems to be doing okay being on his own again. I'm like that in a way. I love my friends and I love my family. I wouldn't trade them for anything, but I do value my alone time. I crave alone time. It's how I recharge my batteries so that I can be a whole, sane person. (In this regard, my whole family resembles our pet hermit crab. All four of us enjoy going our own ways to do our own things, as long as we know where each other is and that we can reconnect at any time). Oh, and let's not forget our other pet, Thomas. He's a male Beta fish – you know, the kind who like to be alone so much that they attack any other fish in their tank and fight to the death? Not that any of us will attack anyone. We enjoy visitors. Really, we do! We love having friends over. We just need ample quiet time to balance it.

But the biggest way I resemble my pet hermit crab is the way I tend to behave as though I'm molting. No, I'm not shedding my outer layer to grow a new one, not physically, at least. When a crab is getting ready to molt, they tend to burrow down into the sand and stay there for a few days, not even coming up for food or water. Then, when they're ready, they shed their outer shell, pushing it off their bodies like an old sweater. Don't confuse this with the changing of their outer shell. That is something they can do often, whenever the mood strikes (as Crabby does every few days lately). Molting is when they shed the hard layer on the outside of their actual bodies so they can grow, sometimes even re-growing a leg that has fallen off.

I've been burrowing lately, hiding out in my house and avoiding contact with the outside world as much as possible. No email, no Facebook, no phone calls. And I loved every minute of it. Now I'm ready to stretch my limbs and grow into my new shell. I'm stronger now and I'm ready to again face the world outside my cave…

…at least until the next time that warm sand starts to look so inviting.

I think of the time I'm in as an apprenticeship. I'm writing books in pursuit of publication and it's my job to learn as much as I can about writing and the publishing industry as I possibly can. My apprenticeship can end at any time by that wonderful, magical telephone call from an editor who has read my manuscript and wants to buy it. Anyone who has written a book and submitted it to a publisher knows the feeling of waiting for that call and wondering if it will ever come. I try not to get impatient. I try to remember that I need to honor this time in my career because writing is very hard work and breaking into publishing is not easy. When a door closes to me in the form of a rejection, I try to chalk it up to the fact that my apprenticeship must not be done yet. There's more to learn. Heck, there will ALWAYS be more to learn but there must come a time when I'm ready. Right? That call will come one day if I stay positive, write like heck and submit like crazy. Right? I choose to believe so. In that vein, I worked my butt off in the past year to grow as a writer.

Here's a few of the things I worked on or accomplished in 2008 for my apprenticeship:

1. I found the courage to announce to the world that I am a writer. Yes, I've been blogging for a few years now, but not everyone who knows me personally knew I was writing. In 2008 I created an email signature tag that shouts it out to the world that I'm a writer and includes a link to this blog. Now everyone from my distant cousin to my son's teacher knows that I write. I figure the more people who know I write, the more people who will be rooting for me to succeed -- and I'll take all the positive mojo I can get!

2. I analyzed a favorite bestselling novel in order to learn more about pacing, point of view, scene transitions, etc. I took notes on everything, made a spreadsheet, and analyzed the heck out of that thing. And, I learned.

3. I listened to the tiny niggling voice in the back of my head that would whisper when something wasn't going right in my book. In years past I would ignore that voice, shrugging it aside with the expectation that everything would work out. This time I listened every single time. I stopped writing when the whispering would start and I would figure out what was going wrong. This made me throw out entire plots at least half a dozen times before writing. Then, it made me throw out the first three chapters of the book at least five times (and I'm not exaggerating). The voice told me when to go back and rewrite a particular scene or take another look at a character's motivation or the conflict between two characters. The voice made my book better. You may call this voice your intuition, experience, whatever. If you have this voice whispering to you, listen to it.

4. I wrote a book.

5. I pushed myself to network better and smarter both online and in person.

6. I found the courage to ask for honest critiques from authors and I listened with an open mind to all of the feedback. By doing this I learned how important it is to have people read my work because I'm too close to it. I might think I'm putting a certain feeling or idea on the page when I'm actually way off. The critiques I received this year taught me more than anything else I did.

7. I judged a major writing contest. While this may seem backwards, it actually makes a lot of sense for a pre-published author to judge contests because first and foremost, I'm an avid reader. By seeing the mistakes others make in their work, and recognizing mistakes I make as well, I learn how to avoid them.

8. I attended three writer's conferences where I made valuable industry contacts and learned from published authors.

9. I entered a contest and made it to the final round. I don't enter many contests but, for whatever reason, I entered this one. Getting that phone call saying that I was a finalist went incredibly far in boosting my confidence in my writing.

10. I joined Facebook as a networking tool with other authors, friends, and people who may someday be my readers.

11. I read novels both in and out of the genre I write, learning from each more about the craft of writing and storytelling in general. I also watched a ton of movies, often analyzing the plot afterwards with my husband (who is awesome at this).

12. I sent out queries, partials and fulls of my manuscript and logged the rejections, learning from each how I might strengthen my writing or my story.

*So, what will I do in 2009? A lot of the same, really. I'll continue to honor my apprenticeship until that glorious, sunshiny day (yes, the sun will be shining, even if it's raining outside) when I get the call.

What will you do in 2009?

I so enjoyed having Emily Bryan here back in August that I jumped at the chance to have her join us again this month as she counts down to her next book release! Leave a comment and you just might win her book! Or, you can go now and order VEXING THE VISCOUNT here! (Publication date is Feb. 24, 2009)

Welcome Emily!

Characters we love to hate

Kelli was kind enough to give me free-range in my choice of topics today, so I thought I’d talk about villains. Of course, we want compelling heroes and heroines in our romances, but a villain is at least as important as those two.
Allow me to introduce Sir Alistair Fitzhugh, head of the Society of Antiquaries and secret Jacobite. He entices unhappy members of the aristocracy into his plans to place King James on the British throne. But a revolution requires ready cash and what better source than the lost Roman treasure Lucian, Vexing the Viscount’s hero, is seeking? But first, Fitzhugh needs to recruit some help in order to steal the treasure out from under Lucian. In this excerpt from Vexing the Viscount, Sir Alistair manipulates Lord Brumley into his treasonous plans.

The reek of smoke and unwashed humanity surged over Sir Alistair Fitzhugh with the force of a Brighton breaker. The chimney at The Unicorn was drafting poorly again, so all the smells of the pub—yeasty ale, oily mutton stew, excessive perfume from the slumming dandies in the corner and the ripe tang of the serving girl who’d just as soon spread her legs for a man as bring him his brew—all these stinks coalesced into a single, stale fug.

Sir Alistair sniffed in appreciation. It was the smell of life, of honest, hard work. Barring the dandies, of course, but the pub needed them in order to keep the pickpockets from preying on the locals. It reminded him of the smell of his home pub back in Edinboro.
Or as near to it as he could manage in the spidery sprawl of London town.

Alistair’s eyes adjusted to the hazy dimness as he swept the room with his gaze, keeping his head still. There in the far corner, a man in a greatcoat with the collar upturned was nursing a pint.

So, he came, after all.

Alistair made his way toward the booth and slid in across from the man without a word. The blowsy girl ambled over with a brimming mug in one hand and the other fisted at her waist. Her breasts threatened to spill over her tightly-laced bodice. He dropped a coin between them and gave her already hard nipple a tug through the cheap muslin. She giggled and blew him a kiss, promising to return with bread and two bowls of stew. As she turned away with a flip of her skirt, Alistair scented a whiff of her, wet and swollen, beneath the homespun.

“Expect I’ll have a bit of that later,” his companion said.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you, Brumley,” Alistair said. “If she isn’t riddled with the French pox already, she will be soon. Better to frequent a reputable brothel where the madam makes certain the girls and the patrons are both clean. Surely you’ve the coin for it.”

“Not with the pittance my wife deals out,” Lord Brumley said with bitterness. “It was in the marriage contract. Winifred retains control of her considerable dowry by special decree. Always reminding me how tightly her father’s lips are pressed to King Geordie’s arse.”

“Bleedin’ German sod,” Sir Alistair muttered, not meaning Lady Brumley’s father.

“Quite.”

Might as well cinch the matter. Alistair hefted his mug. “To the king over the water, then.”

Not meaning the German usurper.

Brumley eyed him sullenly, lips drawn tight. This was the moment and the bastard knew it. Lord Brumley drew a deep breath. Once pledged, he was in.

Alistair had cultivated the unhappy lord for months, enticing Brumley with visions of what his life would be like without the heavy-handed King George. The poor bugger wouldn’t be crawling to his well-connected wife for every scrap. James Stuart placed on his rightful throne would mean rich rewards for those who helped restore him and a free hand for Lord Brumley into his wife’s deep pockets.

And not a damned thing her father could do about it then.

Brumley lifted his mug. “To the king over the water.”

They clinked rims and drank. The bitter sting of the ale was mother’s milk to Alistair. Another unhappy English lord was caught in his web.

Who are some of your favorite villains? Leave a comment or question today to be entered in the drawing for a FREE copy of VEXING THE VISCOUNT! Be sure to check back tomorrow to see if my DH has drawn YOUR NAME!

Thanks again, Kelli! I hope I’ll see you in March when I fly out to Seattle to do a workshop for Eastside RWA.

Yay! See you soon, Emily! And, thanks for joining us. Now, everyone else...leave a comment and enter to win her book!