Murder She Writes

When I graduated from UCLA, I did exactly what my parents feared I would do…I pursued an acting career. Through contacts and luck, I had a few miniscule parts on some sit coms, but mostly I spent those lean post-college years going on casting calls and auditions while I scraped by as a waitress, part time model and what we used to call a “Kelly Girl.” The audition I remember most was the last one, when I participated in the unparalleled exercise in humiliation known as a “cattle call.” There, in bathing suits (for a speaking role in an indy film that, as far as I know, had nothing to do with the beach) I lined up with a dozen other hopeful, hungry young actresses while the casting director strode up and down the line like a drill sergeant eyeballing the pathetic recruits on the first day of boot camp. He stopped in front of me, checked out my resume and headshot and, presumably, my, um, eyes, then notched his head toward the door. “Your knees are weird.”

I’m not kidding. My &$*%@& knees? (They are weird, but really, have you ever seen Meryl Streep’s knees? No? Precisely my point.) Anyway, on my way out, I passed a dumpster in the parking lot, hesitated for about a nanosecond, then pitched my portfolio, brushed off my hands, and put my weird knees to work, skipping to my car, a free woman. (Just to close that story: when my roommate came home from work that evening, I was already packing, planning to take off for…somewhere. Anywhere but L.A. She told me the PR firm where she worked was looking for a receptionist, minimum wage, but the offices were really nice and, after all, I did have a degree in communications. So, I took the gig answering phones at Simon/PR. Less than three years later, I moved to Boston to head the New England operations of that firm. It’s fair to say, I *took* to the publicity business. Oh, and my parents were happy.)

I’ve never forgotten that moment of bliss and freedom when I tossed my “book” in the trash. Years later, when I dipped my toes (and nearly drowned) in the equally impossible pursuit of becoming a published author, I was tempted more than once to ditch my dreams in exchange for something more promising and less demoralizing. But I never did, because I burned to write romance novels. With each trip to the metaphorical dumpster, manuscript in one hand, arcane rejection in the other, I would back away, holding hope in my heart and that fire in my soul. 

I told this story to a writer friend of mine last week when she called and announced: “It’s quittin’ time.” We love to quote Gone With The Wind to each other, so of course, I pulled out the next line of dialogue from that famous opening scene, when Big Sam says, “I’ze the foreman of Tara, and I says when it’s quittin’ time.” But she insisted that it was time to stop the madness of trying to get published. She launched a litany of reasons, scooping excuses off the floor like trash and flinging them at me. She can’t find the right voice. She doesn’t write in the “hot” subgenres. The agent she almost got changed her mind at the last minute. Her critique group has worn away her confidence. The conferences cost too much. There’s no money in it even after you sell. The latest rejection made absolutely no sense. This, of course, was the one that brought on the Weird Knees story.  But that just made her more sure she was doing the right thing. “I don’t feel the burn anymore, Rocki,” she said to me. “Maybe I never did.”

Oh.  Well, maybe it was time to quit.  You gotta feel the burn.

But what if she had sold? Would she still have quit? The next day, during one of my many internet searches for anything about the TV show Lost, I found this interview  (scroll down to the second video screen). In it, Evangeline Lilly, who plays Kate on Lost, announces that she is quitting acting completely when Lost ends this year.

That’s right, you read correctly. She is walking away from her craft, not just her show and starring role, and not just the small screen in pursuit of the big one. She’s throwing a pretty impressive portfolio in the dumpster, after this pivotal, high profile, starring role (her one and only speaking part ever) is over. Evangeline Lilly is a very talented actor who is long past the rejection stage. She has a recognized name, proven capability, star quality, and is drop dead gorgeous to boot. Why would she quit acting? Why not take a hiatus, check out film opportunities, ride the crest of Lost as long as she possibly can?

Her reason? She isn’t passionate enough about the craft to call herself an actor. She didn’t feel the burn – at least not enough to endure the negative sides of the business, which, I imagine are there, even if your job includes getting naked with Josh Holloway. Please.)

I sent that link to my friend, along with a note assuring her that sometimes, it’s okay to take a different path.  She’s tapping into her creativity by planning an organic garden she’ll start when the snow melts, and there, she may discover a different voice and a new kind of song.  Out there in the garden, she might find the passion, and some peace.  I hope so. 

So let’s talk about it. Have you known writers who have quit, published or non? Have any of you writers ever seriously entertained the thought of walking away? Any readers give up on an elusive dream? How, when, and why did you know that it was quittin’ time?

Oh, okay. Only because I know you’ll ask: I was Tom Hank’s video date, Betty, on Bosom Buddies. The episode, “All You Need Is Love” shows up periodically in reruns and someone always emails me in disbelief!  (And if a certain someone – you know who you are – thinks it’s funny to post a link to that moment in TV history, it might be time to quit our friendship.)

Although it’s still winter, I’ve been doing spring cleaning since the start of the year. This “out with the old, in with the new” phase has affected every part of my life, and I am really invigorated by it. It’s wonderful how closing the door on something can open new possibilities.

On a personal level, my house is going through a transformation. I began with the downstairs. I’ve taken it room by room, so it doesn’t seem overwhelming. I have thrown out so many things and tackled “hot spots” where various unrelated items seem to accumulate (most of which should rightly go into the trash, but don’t make it that far). Anything that could even remotely be called clutter has left the building. I’ve replaced curtains, added furniture, tossed or moved furniture, fixed things that have needed to be fixed for far too long, etc. I’m not talking about expensive changes. More like the kind of low-cost changes made for “staging” purposes. The family room and living room are done, and the transformation within our family has been amazing. We all love hanging out in these “new” spaces more than ever. We kind of fell into a rut where we stopped seeing the details and no longer contemplated change. Does the sofa have to be there? Wouldn’t it be fun to have it over here?

I’m doing something similar in my professional life. I saw a lot of triumphs and successes in 2009, but it was also the toughest year I’ve had in my career. It’s only recently that I have come to appreciate the value of my experiences, as miserable as some of them were. I am a bit wiser, more circumspect, and more grateful for what I do have. I’m not sure I paid the dues I should have in the beginning; I am stronger for having paid some of them now.

So I’m doing some spring cleaning on the way I view and approach things. Just like with my house, even though the architecture hasn’t changed, my appreciation level has increased. I’m feeling good about a lot of things in my life right now, even though it’s been better, and that’s because of my investment in looking at things with fresh eyes. I wish I’d done all this clearing out sooner!

Oh, and I sent my latest proposal to my agent last week and I got a really excited phone call from her about it! That made my week.

On a somewhat lighter note, I thought you might enjoy this:

We went shopping for a new dryer on Saturday. We stopped by a few different places — Best Buy, Home Depot, etc. — before we went to Sears. I couldn’t believe the number of salespeople they had on the floor. The appliance center had at least a half-dozen people assigned to it. As “our” salesman was showing off the various features of the dryer we ended up taking home, I noticed something in his back pocket and had to snap a picture.

HQ Presents and Dryers

Yes, our 6+ feet, 250 lbs. salesman had a Harlequin Presents in his back pocket. I thought that was fabulous!

(Is anyone else watching Spartacus: Blood and Sand on Starz? Yum.)

Wow oh wow oh wow! What a week! Murder She Writes just keeps getting better and better! What lucky winners! So, here we go:

Winner of Kate Carlisle’s IF BOOKS COULD KILL is Carol Shenold!  Yay, Carol!  Contact Jen at jenapodaca@aol.com to receive your prize!

Winner of an autographed copy of Debra Webb’s COLBY LOCKDOWN is Mariska! Yay, Mariska! Contact Deb at debraewebb@aol.com to receive your prize!

Winner of a $20 Borders gift card and a signed copy of Laura Griffin’s WHISPER OF WARNING is Amber Leigh Williams! Yay, Amber! Contact Laura at laura@lauragriffin.com to receive your prize!

See you next week!

Like many writers I know, I constantly find myself surrounded by book people. It probably has something to do with the fact that I’m a bit of a nut when it comes to books, and I gravitate toward others like me. My TBR pile is a wobbly tower (several towers, actually, in various rooms of my house). I consider it a special treat to spend an hour alone perusing a book store. And one of my favorite conversations starts something like this: “So, I read the most amazing book recently…”

When you’re talking to other book people, and someone tells you something is their favorite book ever, you sit up and take notice, right? I do. Your favorite? Out of hundreds and hundreds of books you’ve read? Whenever anyone tells me something is their favorite book, that title goes straight to the top of my TBR pile, because even if it doesn’t turn out to be my favorite, I know I’m likely in for a very good read.

Because it’s the first week of February, I want to talk about favorite love stories. Favorites. Of all time. You know, those stories that pluck your emotions like guitar strings and make you feel like you’re falling in love again. I’m going to share some of my favorites from various categories, and I really hope you’ll drop a line and add yours, too! (And one lucky commenter will win a Borders gift card that can be used to buy some of these great titles.)

Favorite Romantic Suspense: Cry No More by Linda Howard. Note: Do not read the last scene of this book without a box of Kleenex nearby.

Favorite Contemporary Romance: This Heart of Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. I had never read SEP until she was the keynote speaker at Nationals one year and I was laughing through her speech. The woman sitting beside me said, “You’ve never read Susan?? You have to read This Heart of Mine. It’s my favorite book.” Because the woman was not only a romance reader, but an aspiring author too, I put a lot of stock in her opinion and bought the book that same day.

Favorite Romantic Comedy: (Notice I created a category so I could squeeze Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Jenny Crusie into the same list?) How about Jennifer Crusie’s Tell Me Lies.

Favorite Paranormal Romance: Now, some might argue that this book isn’t a full-fledged paranormal, but it has the time travel element, and it’s a fabulous book, so I’m going to go with it. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon.

Favorite Historical Romance: Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale. Fellow Austin romance author Emily McKay once pulled me aside at a party and told me, “You must read this book!” Some people say it’s the best romance ever written. Read it. You won’t be sorry.

Favorite Classic Romance: I will have to go with Jane Austen here, Pride and Prejudice, although Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights is a close second for me.

What about you? Add your favorite love story to the list! And anyone who leaves a comment will get a chance to win a copy of my romantic suspense, Whisper of Warning and a $2o GIFT CARD TO BORDERS just in time for your Valentine’s Day shopping. Let’s hear it for love stories!

Yesterday, a friend of mine and I were exchanging emails about writing accomplishments for the day. We tend to keep each other honest.

Her: I wrote 2,978 words today.

Me: Bitch.

Her: You know, I’m 22 words away from 3,000. And I thought, no, I’m too tired, I’m letting it go at 2978. You may have just changed my mind.

Me: Wiener head.

Her: Nah, I don’t have 22 more words.  Unless I cut and paste wiener head 11 times! Eureka!

Me: I’m going back to bitch. Bitch.

And yet, she knew, without question, that I was completely proud of her. She’s stellar at capturing world and tone and nails me when I get too wordy, phrase things awkwardly, or when I muddy an issue. I help her with world building, motivations, pacing and logic. (Well, we probably do about the same thing for each other.) We’re brutally honest.

Another friend and I exchange rough drafts for each other’s take on certain issues. She always (always) nails me when I tell instead of show something. She’ll catch psychological motivations and ask difficult questions ahead of where I’m going which help me sort out the kinds of complexity I want to give the characters. I tend to nail her on lack of imagery, lack of showing, and logic issues. We trust each other to be brutally honest.

I read something of hers a long while back, and I kinda loathed the main character. A lot. A whole big fat barrel of a lot. Right off the bat, and I started making notes in the margin about this issue. I was very tactful:

“I’m hating her here.”

“Geez, she’s a bitch.”

“Okay, she’s making me itch, now. I want to slap her.”

“Never mind slapping her, I want to set her on fire.”

“I’m lighting the match now.”

Luckily, she didn’t send a hit man out to get me. (Well… yet.) And also, luckily, she’s as blunt as I am, and that works for us.

There are various writing friends that I have a wonderful brainstorming sort of relationship with; we will call or write and toss out a problem and everyone will throw in their two cents, knowing the writer is going to take it and run with it. No one feels proprietary toward their idea mentioned, and no one feels slighted if their idea doesn’t fit the writer’s needs. We can’t always know what else the writer is doing / working on / seeing for the future of their book, so we can’t know exactly what will spark that epiphany for them… what will combine with some other random idea that the two meld into the perfect thing to do. I trust these people know that I’m not going to ever worry or care if they use something, and vice versa. I also know that anything I discuss with them won’t go anywhere. (Not that anyone else would care–it just feels freeing to have that trust.)

Some people like to write and brainstorm completely alone. I would go batshit. It’s a matter of personal preference, and there is no one right way. It’s whatever works for you.

After writing for over twenty years, though, I’ve worked out a few guidelines of writing “partnerships” if you will–people you’re willing to share your work with and get feedback from. [I'd like to take a moment and state here that, for me, getting feedback is extremely helpful. It speeds up the process, because I see much faster if I'm doing something that's working across the board or is confusing and/or not successful. I don't need my ego stoked. I need to know what's working (so I don't go screwing that up) and what's not working (so I know what to focus on).]

Here are a few rules, though, that I think are a healthy way of working together:

1) never, ever, on pain of dying, will there be any personal insults. It’s okay to say how a character is making you feel. It is not okay to say to the writer, “You write crappy characters.” If you are getting feedback from someone who crosses that line, find someone else. This person doesn’t know enough to know when they’re being hurtful… how can they know subtle shades of characterizations in fiction? If you tease (like I did in the first example), make sure that’s okay with the other person, that they’re on the same wavelength. My friend and I have known each other for… er… close to 15 years. It’s a pretty safe bet she knows how I mean that.

2) agree ahead of time as to your style of critiquing. I don’t read for very many people any more. I’m too rough, and I came out of an MFA workshop background, and then a screenwriting background–both of which are like being in the trenches in open warfare. Neither one of those situations encourage kindness and tact, and while I will strive to be tactful if it’s a new writer, I’m generally not very successful. Here’s why: people vote with their pocket books. They’re not trying to be tactful, either. If I coddle someone because they can’t handle the truth, I haven’t done them any favors, because the time they could have used to make improvements gets thrown away.

However–my style is not right for everyone. In fact, it’s probably not right for most people. That’s okay. Talk to people about their style of critiquing.

3) agree ahead of time as to the depth of critiquing you need. Let’s say, for example, that you’re in first-draft mode, and you just need to know if the logic of the book works. People go from point A to C to F to D for specific reasons and is that clear? But you get back a critique that focuses on the fact that it’s not polished, and they harp on a bunch of little details about sentence structure and language… and they’ve just wasted their time, and yours. Now, sometimes, you can tell someone, I need a logic check, and they’ll see a motivational problem that doesn’t track… these are both big issues, about the same level, so that’s a good catch. But when you’re looking for the big things and someone focuses on the minutiae, you’re at the risk of derailing. Because what generally happens when you see the minutiae is the equivalent of “Oh, Woe! I sucketh much! I shall throw myself off the ledge and never write again!” or worse, you get caught up in fixing the minutiae and forget to fix the bigger issues.

4) expect every critiquing partner to have different strengths. I’ll tell you right now, my weakness is going to be spotting awkward phrasing, unless you lose me completely. I’m not a grammar buff, unless you totally suck, and I’m not one who really cares if the language is profound or workmanlike. What I care about is story. I can generally assess someone’s style within the first paragraph, or at worst, page, and I’m entering into a contract with them: okay, I’ll think, I get your style, I’ll not question it unless you betray yourself… I’ll go with this flow as long as you keep me in your story. Some people can’t do that, and that’s okay. In fact, that’s kinda helpful at times, because they are wired to notice stuff like style, so if you are inconsistent, they’ll catch it. I’m very good at catching logic problems and motivational issues, and whether or not a character’s thoughts/needs/desires tracks emotionally throughout the story. I’m pretty decent at catching how you describe your world, though I tend to not care if the story is compelling (which means, in critiquing, I’ll miss stuff if I’m interested).

After the rough draft phase, I’ll get two or three close friends to read the work, so see if it’s working. At some point farther out, maybe a draft or two later, I’ll get fresh eyes, people who need to see things more polished, because they excel at language and resonance and subtlety.

5) plan ahead as to how much you’re going to share, and how frequently. I have several friends who can read almost whenever I send something. I try never to send really big chunks, though, unless I’ve checked ahead of time. I also ask how long do they think their turnaround will be. That’s not to put pressure on them, but so that I don’t sit around, wondering and fretting. If they’re running behind, they let me know. And vice versa. I hate not knowing. I’d rather have the bad news, if you hate it. I can learn from that. I can’t learn from not knowing.

6) know that you do not have to use everything the other person says, and vice versa. The upside to having other writers read and critique is that they “know the language.” They know story arcs and motivations/goals/needs. They know pacing and structure breakdowns and turning points and McGuffins and red herrings and on and on. This is useful because they can articulate better what they think the problem is, and why, and where. Readers may or may not notice the issue and if they do, they may not realize what’s causing the problem… so you’ll get something like, “page 30 was really slowing down for me” and you’ll look at page 30 and it’s a high-speed chase. So “slowing down” isn’t quite logical… but probably, what really happened, was that they stopped caring about the character somewhere earlier and didn’t fully realize it until page thirty and they realized they didn’t care if the character survived the chase. Changing page 30 won’t fix the problem, and you’d be mislead if you did so; changing the issue earlier could mean page 30 is now perfectly fine. Or it may mean there’s no longer a chase. Hard to know, but you have to get to the underlying problem.

Having writers read is, therefore, helpful, since we speak the same language.

However, it’s also a trap, and one you have to be very wary of, because each and every writer has a way that they would do that story. And as objective as they may think they are being, they aren’t you. If it’s your story, and what they’re saying doesn’t really resonate, then set it aside and think about it. You may recognize that there is a problem and find a completely different solution. You may also recognize that this is their particular bugaboo, and it’s not bothering anyone else who read it, and so you can easily chalk that one up to “it’s just them” and let it go.

The real trap, though, is to get too heavily influenced because they are enthusiastic about their ideas for the solutions, or they explain them so dynamically and damn, you do have a problem there, everyone says so, and you don’t know what to do, so what the hell, you’ll do that one, and before you know what’s happened, you start feeling bored with the story, or disconnected from it, or you have longer and longer periods where you struggle with it… because it’s no longer your story. So watch for this. Use something only if you love it. Discard it if it’s not resonating with the story in your head that YOU want to tell.

7) Don’t let anyone try to guilt you into using what they suggested. Even though this is almost identical to what’s above, it’s a little different. People who give you notes have got to be willing to then let go. If you have someone in your life who’s critiquing for you, and then checking to see if you followed their suggestions, they’re poisonous, whether or not they mean to be, because they’re dictating. And you’re not there for dictation.

No whining. Seriously, no whining. If you send something out and ask for feedback, 99.99999% of the time, people are going to have notes. Not because what you write needs notes, but because you asked for them, and people like to please. They do. They want to help. You asked them to help, and they’re going to feel like they didn’t help if they don’t give you notes. So while they may have picked up that book in the store and read it and loved it and could have been perfectly happy with it, you’ve now indicated that it’s not, in fact, perfect, because you want notes on it, and they’re going to nitpick until they find some. Know this ahead of time, shut up about it, and deal.

9) Do not argue. Seriously. Again. SERIOUSLY. Shut up. Don’t argue. You are not required to agree with the notes. You are not required to do the notes. You aren’t even required to understand the notes. Just express gratitude, if you hate them, for the person’s time and effort. They probably meant well. (For the ones who didn’t, this also tends to shut them up.) You can ask more questions for clarification, you can debate the subject, if the other person understands you’re trying to grasp their point and get to a deeper understanding of why they gave that note… but you cannot argue and try to convince them that they’re wrong and they shouldn’t have given you the note. If you find the desire to do that repeatedly with someone, they’re not the right critique partner or group for you.

10) Be thankful for the person’s time. Respect their time and reciprocate in a timely fashion. If you find you’re reading frequently for someone who doesn’t read quickly/frequently in return, then they’re not the right person for you.

So, there you go… a few guidelines to help with finding a critique partner or group.

How about you–do you have a CP? Do you write alone? As a reader, do you ever want to see a work in progress? Or do you feel “please-God-no, just show me the finished work?”

I was making pretty good progress on my current book, meeting my weekly word count goals and figuring out where the plot is going. Then, in the last few weeks, my progress dried up, and I started feeling aimless and unmotivated. Today, I think I figured out the problem:  my elder child is learning to drive. With the stress that entails, how can I possibly be expected to work?

Now when I say “learning” you should know that I am taking some liberties with language. Oh, I am sure that some learning took place early in T-wa’s tutelage, back when a very nice lady named Laura from Hometown Driving School arrived in our driveway in a  cheery little yellow sedan with the logo emblazoned on this side, ready to show him the ropes.

(This is the point in a story where they always put a picture of the subjects six months earlier, with their arms around each other.  The headline generally reads “in happier times.” )

Me and T-wa in Happier Times

Oh, the whole driving thing didn’t start out unhappy, exactly. That first couple of outings it was all “Yes ma’am” and “Thank you ma’am” and hands at ten and two. It was straight and narrow, check the rear-view, no-no-after-you at every intersection. Laura was my son’s favorite person in the world there for a while, and her arrival was awaited with the sort of breathless anticipation that generally attends a visit from Santa when you’re six. Her business card was given pride of place on the fridge. I’m fairly sure he memorized her cell phone number. Just in case, you know, he felt like talkin driving with someone in the biz sometime.

I was thrilled, convinced that T-wa was a model student. By the time he was returned to me he had mastered all kinds of tricks like Driving In The Neighborhood and Taking It Out On The Highway and All Kinds Of Intersections and even that jaunty little wave you give your fellow motorists to indicate they can go ahead and cut in ahead of you.

I felt very smug, the first time I rode with him. Alas, I didn’t make the connection at the time, but this is a lot like the first chapter or two of a new project. You’re feelin’ good, virtuous even; this is going to be the best book you ever wrote, and it’s a privilege to see it unfold. You might experiment with extra points of view, or add a unicorn in chapter five. In short, it’s a huge pleasure just being an author.

Then you get a little further along. Ideas – not coming so quickly. What made you think you could master a single point of view, much less several? Weren’t you supposed to throw in some conflict by now? And how are you ever going to stretch this thing out to 80,000 words?

A similar malaise descended upon my fresh-minted driver oh, about the third time he took the car out on the road. No longer was it a magical experience. No longer did he feel like Aladdin on a magic carpet. Perhaps that’s why he decided to spice up the experience with a bit of back-talking and an invigorating measure of hell-bent risktaking.

Speed limits were suddenly speed suggestions, cars in front of us drew his bumper perilously close with a curious magnetism, and he took an especial delight in barreling down exit ramps like a landing aircraft with brake failure. He started using the long stretches between stoplights to fiddle with the radio and adjust the rear-view mirror and, one memorable time, to rest his head on the steering wheel and appear to take a nap. The more I hollered, the more he insisted I was overreacting.

Along about now, I was also struggling more and more with my book. I toyed with the idea of extreme measures to breathe some life into the plot. How about giving a character an extra supernatural power? A past life that was not revealed in book one?  Despairing, I highlighted about seven thousand words one afternoon and deleted them in a fit of pique; panicking the next day, I tried to resurrect them from the hard drive but they were gone for good.

Meanwhile T-wa clipped a driver’s-side mirror on a sedan parked a block from our house.

He had his first fender bender at a stoplight a few blocks from his high school.

He turned into oncoming traffic after a movie. Thankfully it was very slow-moving matinee traffic and everyone was happy to wait while he got our car turned back around in the proper direction.

In a state of complete despair, I struck a deal with the boy: I would keep quiet about all the tiny errors if he promised to listen when I spoke up about the big ones. It was hard. I nearly bit my tongue in half and expired from holding my breath, but I managed to keep my mouth shut then entire three miles home from school the other day, blurting out only one comment – something like “don’t hit that nice man on the bicycle” – the whole way.

And what do you know – the boy stepped up. The next time we went for a drive, he was a model driver. He didn’t cut anyone off, cross any medians, frighten any pedestrians – and he capped off the experience by parking perfectly between the lines at the Safeway.

The book’s the same way. On the days when I just trust the story to make its way to the surface, when I don’t bemoan and curse and condemn the thing, it chugs along nicely. The moral of this story might be faith – as in, having a little, no matter what the endeavor, might not be a bad idea.

I’m still grateful every time the Volvo comes safely home to roost with my boy at the wheel, and I’m also not in any hurry for him to get his license. What about you all – any advice for this nail-biting mother of a teenage driver?

Today is February 2nd, Groundhog Day. In North America that means if the groundhog comes out of his hole and sees his shadow we’ll have six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t see his shadow, spring is imminent. Some statistics say he, the groundhog, has been right about 40% of the time. Well, dang it, he saw his shadow this morning. So I guess winter is not over just yet. Happy February 2nd!

February 2nd, for me, also means 33 days of 2010, 6 pounds, and 0 cigarettes. Unfortunately the 6 pounds have been added because of the 0 cigarettes. I don’t miss the cigarettes anymore. It really wasn’t a big deal since I had only done it for two years (which I may have told you already). Occasionally I’ll think about having one, like last night when my idol Jack Bauer lit up on 24. He shouldn’t do that, but it was part of his cover so I’ll forgive him. The 6 pounds, however, is another story. That SUCKS! But February is the month I set as the start date for getting serious about getting in shape. I knew better than to attempt that feat on January 1 along with tossing the Camel #9s (sometimes Marlboro Light 100s). But this month it happens. Only one soda a day (that’s my BIG one, I am totally addicted!). Cut back the portions (since I’m not a big snacker, I chow down at mealtime). And WALKING. Yes, every day. One mile at first, then after two weeks two miles and so on. My initial goal is to lose 50 pounds. This is the place where I need to be, according to my fav doc Karen Allen, to be healthy! After that I’d love to lose another 30 just for me. My clothing goal is a size 10. But mainly I want to be healthy. I will, as promised, keep you posted. Cheers and encouragement are welcome. Cheer the loudest and you might just win a prize (vbg)!

This month is also the release month of my first Colby Agency story of the year. My publishing career started 11 years ago next month with UP CLOSE, a Kensington Precious Gems. I had two that year (thank you Hilary Sares and Kate Duffy!). Then in 2010 my first Harlequin Intrigue was released, a Colby Agency story called SAFE BY HIS SIDE. When I wrote that story the folks in my critique group at the time warned me not to write a series and expect Harlequin to buy it from an unpubbed author (I sold to Kensington and Harlequin virtually the same month, but the first Harlequin didn’t come out until over a year after the first Kensington). Well, being the determined person I am, I submitted it anyway. Harlequin Intrigue bought that story and this month number 39 in the Colby series will be released. The Colby Agency series is the biggest (number of books) author series in Harlequin’s history. I am so proud. RT Magazine gave COLBY LOCKDOWN a TopPick and said, “The tenth year of Colby saga rockets forward with this topnotch first installment of a new series that will have readers on the edge of their seat.” Then, last night I received this from Romance Readers Connection:

In September 2000, Harlequin Intrigue Readers bought book number 583, SAFE BY HIS SIDE by author Debra Webb, advertised as a “Secret Identity” novel and a Colby Agency Case. Readers were introduced to their first Colby agent and eagerly anticipated meeting their second, but little did we realize that this remarkable group of men and women that work for Victoria Colby’s private investigation firm and will later work for her son Jim’s more “elite” agency, would become ten year fixtures on our bookshelves.

This month, Colby fans will experience…COLBY LOCKDOWN, Harlequin Intrigue # 1188. The story involves the agency offices being attacked by terrorists and Victoria Colby and some of her agents being held hostage. Can you feel the excitement? Those of us that are fans of this thrilling series are waiting on the edge of our seats for this next installment. So if you’re not a fan and want to become one, rest assured that you are in for many, many hours of very pleasurable reading!

There was more, but you get the idea. I cried as I read the glowing review. The lovely lady who wrote it, Livia, really touched my heart. I had no idea when I wrote that first Colby Agency story that ten years later I would not only still be writing those stories but loving the opportunity even more than I did all those years ago.

I wish I could take full credit for the longevity of this series but I absolutely cannot. Victoria Colby (now Victoria Colby-Camp) is one of those characters who doesn’t come along often. She has been a pure joy to write. And there is my editor, Denise Zaza, at Harlequin. I first started with Natashya Wilson but she left before the first book was published. I had heard the horror stories about changing editors and I was terrified. But Natashya assured me that I needn’t worry that Denise (then O’Sullivan) was going to be my editor. Denise was and is the senior editor of the line and I was terrified about that too! She encouraged me to write more Colby stories. She allowed me to cross the category boundaries too many times to count. And for 2010 she invited me to do a special six Colby stories for Harlequin Intrigue!

All that said, the bottom line is the reader. The readers have kept the Colbys alive and well. For ten years I have received mountains of letters and email about these stories. Folks want more, they want to revisit past characters, they want to know what these characters do when they’re not at work at the Colby Agency, they name their children after characters–now that is loyalty! Thanks to all the readers who have been so faithful, particularly when we all have to watch every penny. To spend their hard-earned money on my stories is the ultimate compliment.

Y’all pardon my being all sentimental this morning and tell me how your New Year’s resolution is going to date. Any suggestions on my “get fit” journey? Some lucky commenter will receive an autographed copy of COLBY LOCKDOWN!

Join me in welcoming my good friend, Kate Carlisle to Murder She Writes! Kate’s first book, HOMICIDE IN HARDCOVER, featuring the bookbinder Brooklyn Wainwright, hit the New York Times extended list, catapulting Kate into the ranks of National Bestselling Author. And you know what? She still has coffee or lunch with me! Kate rocks, and she tolerates my petty jealousy with amazing good humor! Kate’s highly anticipated second book, IF BOOKS COULD KILL is hitting the stores tomorrow. You don’t want to miss this second book in this dynamite cozy mystery series! Be sure to leave a comment for Kate today and you’ll be entered in the drawing to win a copy of IF BOOKS COULD KILL!

When I first saw the cover art for If Books Could Kill, the second book of my Bibliophile Mysteries series, I was thrilled to see a cat on the cover. Isn’t he handsome? Let’s call him Sean Cattery. Can you tell that he meows with a Scottish accent and feasts on haggis? If Books Could Kill is set in Edinburgh, Scotland, my favorite city in the world, and this cat plays a small but pivotal role. Mostly I was excited because I know that many mystery readers love cats.

I started to wonder why so many cats are featured in mysteries. I have a theory about one reason: Most cats are pathologically sociopathic, and we mystery lovers find that fascinating. (Let us pause for a moment so I can congratulate myself on using the phrase “pathologically sociopathic” in a sentence!)

Sociopathic cats have an utter disregard for humans, except as we relate to feeding and massaging them. There’s none of that canine eagerness to please. When I think of cats, I always think of a cartoon where the dog is panting and excited to see his humans come home while the cat is thinking, “Day seven hundred and fifty-two of captivity…” Dogs live to serve humans; cats live to be served. No wonder the ancient Egyptians worshipped them – cats demanded it!

We’re entranced by cats because they don’t need us.

(Whoa! Major flashback to high school!!! I had such a crush on the cutest boy in school, who never even looked at me until he needed help with his homework. And by “help,” I mean he needed someone to do it for him. He was too lazy even to copy. He wanted me to fake his handwriting. I think it says a lot about my moral fortitude that I…did it for him. Yep. Whatever he wanted, as long as he kept looking at me with those smoldering eyes. I bowed to his every wish. Seriously, who has moral fortitude under those circumstances?!)

Cats are sexy. When’s the last time you heard of a woman dressing up like a dog for Halloween? Not me! I don’t want to go to parties and have guys pointing at me from across the room saying, “That dog over there.” But slap some little pointy ears on my head and draw attention to my cute little button nose with some strategically placed whiskers, and I feel like – dare I say it? – a sex kitten! I might even change my name to Kitty if a certain old-timey actress/singer hadn’t already claimed the name Kitty Carlisle for all eternity.

The term “cat burglar” has a certain romantic allure, doesn’t it? The naughty rogue, the gentleman criminal. He’s not a bad guy, he’s someone to be admired and envied. A sophisticated sociopath. Cats often try to get away with something…and usually succeed.

Unlike dogs, cats travel alone. Somehow, their solitary nature adds to the mystery of a cat. Few cats can be trained to come when you call. Oh, they’ll come sometimes, but it’s a coincidence. They don’t come because a human has called; they come only because they feel like it.

Why do you think cats are so popular in mysteries? Have you ever encountered a sociopathic cat? Tell me about it! Or have you known cats who disprove my theory? (I’ll let you in on a little secret – the cat in If Books Could Kill is very cuddly.)

Don’t forget to leave a comment to be entered into the drawing to win a copy of IF BOOKS COULD KILL!