Learning on the job

In the past several weeks, I've done some fun and interesting research for future books. Late last month, I traveled to an Oregon winery to interview an enologist. Why Oregon, you may be wondering, when I live so much closer to Napa? Well, the winery in my story isn't located in California--it's in England, in a climate more comparable to Oregon's. But the most surprising things I learned weren't about the vines and the grapes--they were about the laboratory where much of an enologist's work is done.

This weekend, I spent two days learning how to create a stained glass panel. The heroine in the third Built to Last book owns a stained glass shop, and I wanted to know what types of supplies she'd stock and what kinds of tools she would handle--the sights, sounds, smells, and sensations she'd experience as she worked. Today I finished my small sample of foiled stained glass; next month, I'll learn how to create a leaded glass piece.

Sometimes, my research can be done with books or the Internet or a phone call or two. And sometimes, I prefer to get my hands--and my face and my clothes--dirty. Adding tiny details can help my stories come to life, and gathering them can add so much to my own life.

I'm hoping to learn enough about the art of stained glass to make some pieces for my own house. Do you enjoy a craft or hobby that has produced beautiful things for your home?

Happy birthday, Anne

This year marks the 100th anniversary of the publication of Anne of Green Gables, by Lucy Maud Montgomery. I can still picture the oversized, illustrated hardbound copy of that book I received for Christmas one year. I wondered, at first, why my parents had given me the story--it didn't look, at first glance, like the kinds of things I usually enjoyed reading. But I was soon enchanted with plucky Anne Shirley.

I fell in love with Anne and her optimistic, dramatic view of life all over again while watching Kevin Sullivan's 1985 miniseries for the Canadian Broadcasting Company (back in the days I used to watch television). As for romance--the sequel to that miniseries, Anne of Avonlea, provided plenty of happy sighs.

Did you read Anne of Green Gables when you were young? Did you watch the CBC series, too? What other classic stories did you enjoy when you were younger?

Harvesting fresh starts

Fall is a strange season--the beginning of the end of the year. But it's always seemed to usher in more beginnings than endings: the first day of school, the beginning of the holiday season. Even the beginning of the cold and flu season...achoo!

Fall also means new television series to enjoy--old favorites are back with fresh episodes, and new shows hope to find an audience. I won't, however, be one of those watching. I gave up television years ago, and I haven't been back for a peek.

I discovered how far out of the loop I've been when the nominations for the Emmy Awards were announced, and I realized I hadn't seen any of the nominated shows. I didn't recognize many of the actors. I'm beginning to wonder if my lack of interest in television may begin to affect my ability to write a truly contemporary story. I may live in the modern world, but my corner of it sometimes feels increasingly small and isolated.

What are your favorite television shows? What are you looking forward to this new fall season?

Climbing out of a rabbit's hole

Here I am again, a bit sheepish and red-faced after my long absence from this blog. I suppose I could entertain you all with a story about my adventures in some amazing wonderland or my abduction by anti-blog aliens--I do write fiction, after all. Yes, maybe I should do exactly that, because the truth behind my disappearance isn't anything amazing at all.

I do have some news to share. Another of my books, The Rancher Needs a Wife, has been translated into French for publication abroad. It's always fun to see the foreign covers.

If you could disappear down the magical rabbit's hole of your imagination, where would you arrive? What would you see and do?

Dusty things

I've been spending a bit of time each day this week at the local antique stores, looking for a small shelf for our newly redecorated powder room. Browsing through antiques is one of my favorite things to do, and though I've found lots of things I want, I haven't found the one item I need. (I did buy a fun print yesterday--I have no idea where I'm going to hang it, but I couldn't leave the store without it.)

One thing that usually stops me from purchasing more of the old collectibles I love is the thought that I'm going to have to dust them. I hate to dust. I hate it so much that for many years, when we were first married, I limited the horizontal surfaces in our house to the basic necessities. We had no bookshelves and few decorative items displayed. I even stuck with large pictures to limit the numbers of frames I'd have to clean.

Later I discovered that if I purchased things with white or pale horizontal surfaces, it would take the dust longer to show up. It's no accident that my work desk and computer monitor, for instance, are white.

What good is dust, I'd like to know? What purpose does it serve? Why can't it stay outside, where it belongs?

What are some of the useless things in your daily life?

Ooh La La

Here's a peek at the French language edition of Maybe, Baby. Isn't the cover pretty? Too bad I can't manage a trip across the Atlantic to see my book in a store in Paris.

I've returned from RWA's annual national conference in San Francisco, and now I'm recovering from a long week of business, workshops, and the crazy social whirl as I check items off my catch-up list. It's good to be back, but I'm already missing all my writing friends.

I had some terrific news while I was away: The Rancher Needs a Wife is a finalist in the Aspen Gold contest. And that same book won the Booksellers' Best Award for 2008 in the Long Contemporary category--hooray! A poster displaying the winners' book covers will be posted in bookstores across the country for the next twelve months.

I promised a Vera Bradley Hipster to one of the folks who visited with me here on my blog in July, and that person is...drum roll, please...nathalie. Send me an e-mail, nathalie, and we'll get started on your order.

Conference!

I arrived in San Francisco on Saturday for the Board meeting of Romance Writers of America, and things have been hopping for me ever since. I'm having my usual excellent time at the annual conference--wish you were all here!

I adore walking through the hotel lobby and finding writer friends I haven't seen since last July. There's so much energy in the air, so many greetings and conversations and industy buzz. My smile muscles are getting a workout.

Tomorrow the day begins at 6:00 with a quick breakfast and a rehearsal for a silly bit of entertainment during the opening ceremonies. After my official duties at the Annual General Meeting are finished, I'll attend a luncheon featuring a keynote address by one of my favorite people--and one of my favorite authors--Victoria Alexander. I'll meet with my agent, attend a workshop or two, and snack on goodies during the evening's round of cocktail parties, receptions, and events.

What are you up to this week?

Home sweet home

Recently I read an article about a "House of the Future" built in Belgium. It contains plenty of high-tech features such as a bed that gently ejects sleepers when it's time to get up and a kitchen that senses when staples are low and orders them from the local grocery.

I don't know how I feel about living in a house that's smarter than I am-- I'm already dealing with a car that's much more self-aware than the person driving it. I’m not sure I want to face a bathroom mirror that tells me my weight and blood pressure while I’m brushing my teeth. I'm reminded of the movie Demon Seed about a computer-controlled house that tortures the woman trapped inside.

I enjoy modern conveniences, but sometimes I prefer to do things the old-fashioned way. I'm not sure I'd trust my refrigerator to write my shopping lists. We'd probably have some heated discussions about whether I'm hoarding shredded Parmesan or if I'm ever going to use those hot dog buns in the freezer. As for my bed trying to eject me on a morning I've decided--at the moment the alarm goes off--to sleep in, well, I wouldn't appreciate that at all.

On the other hand, I found a wonderful list of recommendations on my iTunes page when I stopped by to look for a certain song tonight. Some unknown computer somewhere has figured out my tastes in music and is shopping for me--now nice!

Would you be interested in living in a "smart" house or having an automated personal shopper? What high-tech convenience would make your life easier?

Making a story together

One of the most interesting concepts I learned while I was doing my post-grad work in English was that it's the reader who completes a story. An author may present the words on the page, but it's the readers who bring their own individual experiences, beliefs, and personalities to a book, finding and creating within it their own meanings.

I suppose that's one reason we all have different reactions to the same material. It's more than a matter of personal preferences or tastes--stories truly mean different things to different people.

I've had people recommend movies and books and activities I didn't enjoy. Certain people seem to share my preferences, while certain others seem to be consistent opposites. Perhaps the definition of a "classic" is something that most people agree has value, regardless of their individual responses--something that offers a truly universal experience.

What do you think are some classic movies? Books? Activities?

It's an addiction

I'm happy to report that I turned in Hers by Design on time and, better yet, I'm very pleased with the way the story worked out. I'm going to enjoy working on the revisions--I think I've got a winner here.

During the long days heading into the book deadline, when I was buried in the story and writing and editing nearly non-stop, I stole a few moments to fantasize about how I'd celebrate writing The End. I'd decided to give myself a day or two "off," and I had a lot of fun daydreaming about how I'd spend it.

Now I know. The first place I headed after I left the shipping office was the bookstore. I'd been compiling a list of books I was looking forward to reading once I had time to treat myself, and I thought I'd spend a big chunk of my mini-vacation curled up with a good book...or two or three.

For my entire life, reading has been one of my favorite things to do. I remember my mother urging me to put down my book and go outside to play and get some fresh air. I used to lie awake at night trying to figure out how to sneak a flashlight and read for just a while longer under the covers. When the school book fair arrived, I always begged for more purchases than my parents were willing to make. Trips to the library during summer reading programs were heaven.

I guess I'm still addicted. I wondered if writing books would diminish my reading enjoyment, and the answer is no. If anything, I enjoy reading more.

Before I started reading romance, I used to read historical fiction. Some of my favorite books are those by James Clavell (Tai-Pan, Noble House, Shogun) and James Michener (Centennial, Hawaii). And though I'm not generally a mystery fan, I've read all the Dick Francis books.

Have you always been a reader? When you're not reading romance, what do you read?