My son is 11 years old, just a couple of months shy of 12 as I write this. In those 11-plus years, I have of course loved him with all my heart, as well as done my parental due diligence: fed him, clothed him, hugged and kissed him, dried his tears, caught his barf, wiped his butt. Took him to preschool where parent volunteering was required, and thus spent an inordinate amount of time wiping complete strangers’ kids’ butts. (If that isn’t dedication, I don’t know what is.) Read to him, then helped him learn to read. Took him to see Santa and the Easter Bunny. Assisted a couple of days a week in his elementary classes. Schlepped him to innumerable birthday parties and even hosted one, his seventh, at our house. (Once was quite enough, thank you. After that, Chuck E. Cheese was my homie.)
Of course, now that my son is closing in on the teen years, my job has changed somewhat. Once the driving force behind the Cub Scouts pack, moms like me are not quite as welcome in the Boy Scout troop. I now merely wave goodbye and remind him to take his phone as he leaves the house instead of driving him to his friends’ houses. I’m supposed to honor his request that I don’t embarrass him in front of other kids. (Yeah, like that’s going to happen while I have breath in my body.)
But there is one element of his preteen life that I must direct in order for my child to develop into any sort of well-rounded adult—Okay, wait. Let’s bring this in; we don’t want it getting out to just anybody. This is top-level, double-secret-probation type parenting here. Not the kind of thing you read about in parenting books. You ready? Read the rest of this entry
Or, to paraphrase Ralphie’s Old Man in A Christmas Story, “Tomorrow, tomorrow! Hot damn, tomorrow!” (Hey, better that than the infernal Annie earworm, no?)
Anyway. I had a point—that my fifth book baby, and the third in my small-town rom-com Marsden trilogy, Lucky for You, will be available tomorrow, August 18! It’s in all digital formats—Kindle, Nook, Kobo, iBooks, Google Books—so fire up you favorite e-reader and grab a copy!
Here’s a little bit of way-too-feisty main character Jordan keeping poor Will off balance. See you tomorrow!
One week and it’s back to Marsden with Lucky for You, the third installment in my small-town rom-com series! Let the squee-ing commence!
And if you’re a blogger/reviewer and would like to be an event host for release day, head on over to Bliss Book Promotions to sign up!
See you next Tuesday—and I mean that in the nicest way possible!
So there I was, right? Nose to the grindstone, writing away. New and shiny WIP (work in progress), 30,000 words in, deadline shining like a beacon on the horizon—not too close, not too far away, which is just the way I like it. The only hiccup was that my 11-year-old son was joyously commencing his do-nothing, intentionally-rot-the-brain summer vacation. That meant there would be constant running commentary on his video games (he loves to share) and frequent requests for food, but he’s gotten to the age where he can amuse himself most of the time, so I wasn’t too concerned. Hey, he’s my kid—I’d be happy to spend time with him during the day. Without that pesky getting-to-school alarm clock going off in the morning, I could compensate by staying up into the wee hours every night, writing when the house was quiet. Good plan.
See? Crushing. It.
Hahahaa…yeah, no. Read the rest of this entry
I’m in a void, and it ain’t pretty. No, not the Star Trek kind of black hole, but one that induces the same kind of trepidation—almost, dare I say, panic? There is nothingness. There is blackness. There is the fear of the unknown or, rather, the fear that the hollow nothingness is endless, permanent.
In other words, I’m a writer without a WIP (work in progress).
Read the rest of this entry
So there’s this faboo author called Glynis Astie. If you haven’t heard of her, get with the program! She’s great! And I’m not just biased because we’re buds or anything.
She’s written fictionalized versions of her oh-so-original and crazy life, called French Twist, French Toast, and now her newest, French Fry, out today! Way better than “French fries, French dressing, and French bread (and to drink—Peru!)” (Name that movie and you win…well, props, anyway.) Read the rest of this entry
It’s #ChickLitMay! Otherwise known as Chick Lit Chat’s celebration of International Chick Lit Month! Today we’re teasing our chick lit/romantic comedies by talking about what’s on page 45. And you can enter to win some yummy caramels! Keep reading! Read the rest of this entry
Wowsers. Ever watch someone go through amazing contortions to get out of mentioning something that makes them uncomfortable? I just watched a magazine do it. So amazing. I mean, it was a total fail, but it was amazing to witness.
I should start from the beginning, shouldn’t I? Okay. Yesterday I cracked open the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly, as I do every Friday evening. I actually still receive the print copy, as I have ever since the magazine’s debut back in…what was it…1990? So I’ve seen a lot of trends come and go within its pages, but never an omission as egregious and blatant as the one in this week’s issue. Read the rest of this entry
So. Didja see that earth-shattering, mind-numbing, tissue-box-emptying, why-God-why-ing episode of Grey’s Anatomy last night? If your answer was “no,” geddoutta here—you either need to go watch it (although it has to have been spoiled for you already, considering the episode fallout pretty much broke the internet) or you need to go do something else, as this blog post probably is not for you.
Or maybe it is. Because I don’t want to talk about the episode where (do I have to say “spoiler alert” at this point?) the hunka-hunka-burning-brain-surgeon Derek Shepherd dies. I want to talk about the fallout. Read the rest of this entry
Hold everything! For 24 precious hours, my Hollywood-set rom com, Unscripted, is the romance Kindle Daily Deal at Amazon! Ninety-nine paltry cents, people!
99 of these babies! Kamaaaan!
Featured on A Cheap Romance! (No, it’s a good thing! Honest!)
I don’t want to hear anything about trying to wean yourself off impulse buys—now is not the time! Now is the time to do a one-click buy and start laughing at TV producer Faith’s misadventures and sighing over her love interest, Mason, a hottie college professor. Yes, there may be tweed jackets with elbow patches involved. I can say no more. Go! Find out for yourself!
And here’s more info if you need it: