The Art of Nothing

Last night I did an incredible thing: nothing.

As a self-confessed stress-head, this is quite a note-worthy occasion. I'm the kind of person who is always considering time; how much of it something or someone will use, how much of it has passed, what I can best do with my time... If I could take a measuring tape to time, I would.

Two weeks ago I slipped whilst on a bush walk and bruised my ribs, and despite the acute pain, I kept going. I still applied adhesive window film to seven windows, built a pallet sofa, painted and attached privacy screens, and hosted two parties. I went to work. I wrote my books. And yes, all of that made the pain worse and lengthened my recovery time. I haven't slept painlessly for a fortnight.

I don't pretend to always make the best decisions. I just have a hard time being idle.

There is always something on. Give me three colourful balls and I will make a clumsy spectacle of myself, but I can juggle life like a tenured circus performer.

I work full time. I write when I can (in the last month I've finished writing two books, submitted a book to publishers, applied for a grant, edited a manuscript, and outlined another work-in-progress)  and I've just moved into a new house, so there's lots to be done. I see my family and friends when I can, and of course, I have my husband and fur family - the best time-sucks of my life.

I'm not saying I'm unique in this. We're all busy. I don't have kids and I don't have a particularly big commute to work, so I have more time available to me than others, but I am saying that I don't have an off button.

Which is why it was particularly unusual for me to come home yesterday and do what I did.

My husband was out, I had the house to myself. Before I'd even set my bag down I was mentally listing what could be done before climbing gingerly into bed. But between the front door and the couch, I changed my mind. I just ... sat. I binged on the first season of Younger - one episode after the next - even after my husband came home to find me still in my work clothes in the same position I'd fallen in hours earlier. I skipped dinner. I didn't close the blinds. I didn't even turn the lights on, so I was sitting in the dark. Hell, I'm lucky my respiratory system is a sub-conscious function!

I can honestly say, that was the absolute best use of my time in that moment.

Things didn't get done. They were delayed a day and the world didn't end. I actually watched the TV instead of glancing at it between laptop tasks. It was self-indulgent and it was perfect.

Some of you may be reading this post and thinking, "So what?", but I'm celebrating. It might be weeks or months before I do this again and I want to mark the moment so that one day in the future, I can look back and remind myself that the world didn't end when I stopped blurring around the edges. Some of us wear our busy-ness like a badge of honour and I'm not saying that's wrong, but wow, it felt good to just put everything down for a night.

Still waiting on that human cloning technology. It should be any day now.

Some titles sell themselves

How, with a title like Lingerie for Felons, can a reader resist this book?

I'm delighted to be hosting a release day blog post for a fellow Escape artist, the lovely Ros Baxter. Love the title, love the cover - it's gone straight to my TBR pile. Congratulations on the release, Ros.

Today is release day for Lingerie for Felons, the new romantic comedy from Ros Baxter.

‘If there’s one universal truth, it’s this: You’re always wearing your worst underwear when you land in trouble.’ 

Lingerie for Felons: Laugh. Cry.  Look at the world a little differently.

All with one click here.

Dear Stranger, if you've found me, I'm yours...

"If you've found me, I'm yours."

Happy Valentine's Day. I hope that today, whether you celebrate it or not , affords you a measure of kindness.

In the last week I have learned two things. One, that the skin between my knuckle and fingertip - once calloused by its long friendship with the humble pen - has become the equivalent of a sensitive sook. And two, that people are willing to spread a little love if only given the opportunity.

I recently released a short story with Escape Publishing called Dear Stranger, a sweet, contemporary read about a woman who writes and leaves love letters around her city for strangers to find. It's a case of art imitating life, because I did this on Valentine's Day last year. There was no guarantee that the small messages of hope would reach the people who most needed them, but there was the chance, and for me that was enough.

A week ago I decided to do it again, this time using Reese's letter in Dear Stranger. It's uplifting, it's kind and it's hopeful - and it seems that as soon as I had the idea, people volunteered their help.

Ready for my 'street team'.

This year, instead of pounding the pavements alone, I have a 'street team'. Almost a dozen generous souls from all over Australia, each armed with a handful of love letters for strangers. These letters turned up on South Australian counters, on ATMs in the Blue Mountains, and trains and cafe tables in Melbourne. They turned up wherever my friends were inspired to leave them, and it is my hope that the people who found them were somehow stirred, or kind enough to leave them to be found again.

I was thrilled to be contacted by two people who did find a letter, and the messages were enormously positive. The wonderful people who delivered these letters were enthusiastic, and there were many talks of 'next time'.

Maybe you're reading this blog because you found a letter. Maybe you're reading this and finding yourself inspired to pen a letter of your own. Either way, I just wanted to mark this moment, to wish everyone a happy Valentine's Day, and thank the wonderful people who put their hand up to spread a little love in a world. I also want to take the opportunity to mention More Love Letters, a global organisation which uses social media to write and distribute heartfelt gestures of love and compassion to those in need, and the original inspiration for my letters a year ago.

It is my hope for you, reader, that something about today brought a smile to your face, be it anything from a delivery of roses to a small act of kindness. Because commercial considerations aside, Valentine's Day is - at its core - a chance to celebrate each other.

So, dear stranger, I celebrated you.

#DearStranger

A Year in Review

As the 2013 Romance Writers of Australia annual conference approaches, I'm finding myself thinking back to this time last year, and shaking my head.

So much has changed. Relationships have strengthened and dissolved, my family has gone through some tough knocks and my work life has evolved so much that I'm struggling to capture it all in my annual review. But what I want to explore in this blog is how far I've come as a writer.

This time last year, I was hugging my first contract to my chest. Destiny Romance had yet to announce itself and I was practicing an excerpt from Small Town Storm, my first book and Destiny's debut romantic suspense title, because I was lucky enough to be doing a reading at the launch. I attended the conference with a blue first sale ribbon stuck to my name tag, and marvelled at how different it felt to be one of them. The authors.

Little did I know that I would return the following year with five published titles and a RUBY nomination for the very book I'd launched - my first baby, Small Town Storm. And instead of visiting the ARRA author signing event, I'll be signing at it. If you'd told me all of this last year, I wouldn't have believed you.

This last year has been a whirlwind. After Small Town Storm's release in August last year, I released The Man Plan in December, again with Destiny Romance. In January this year I released Unforgettable with Escape Publishing, then in April and July Destiny Romance and I released the first two novellas in the Homeland series, Ask Me To Stay and Ask Me For More. The third novella, Ask Me For Tomorrow,  will be released in October and something very special is coming in December.

It's little wonder I'm exhausted, but adrenaline and I have become really good mates. We go way back and it's a relationship I see myself embracing for the rest of my life. Amongst the countless things I've learned, I've also had to teach myself how to embrace down-time. I'm a planner. If you leave me to my thoughts for too long, I'll not only plot out the next few weeks of my life, but a book or two.

Yet for all my foresight and planning, I could never have guessed I'd be where I am now.

And standing here. looking around, looking back and looking forward - dreaming of what's to come - I can honestly say, I'm so, so happy.

For all of you presently standing in the shadows, I hope that you, too can look back in time and marvel. For those who dream of being published - it's never been a better time to crack into the industry - the opportunities are everywhere in both digital and print. And for those of you who have been on this journey with me this last year, thank you. From every inch of my swollen heart, thank you.

Here's to another year together.

Imagine where we'll be then!

Guest interview with Juanita Kees

I'm delighted to welcome my second guest to The Write Frequency blog; freelance editor and contemporary romance writer, Juanita Kees. Juanita's first title, Fly Away Peta, was released by Eternal Press in August 2012, and her second title, Under The Hood, was released last month with Escape Publishing. Juanita has been patient enough to answer my many and varied questions, and has supplied an excerpt of her latest release. Read on to learn more about this talented author, and find out what she's up to next.

Describe yourself in four words:
Creative writing cleaning fairy

Are characters’ names in your novel important?

Absolutely! For some reason, the name always comes to me first.

Are there any occupational hazards to being a writer?

Yes, chocolate belly, numb bum, and a crick in the neck from falling asleep on the keyboard :)

Do you write around anything? i.e. day job, kids…

I wish I could! I’m easily distracted by Facebook, the telly or radio, so I like to have complete silence when I write.

What are the most important attributes to remaining sane as a writer?

Insanity (you can’t go insane if you’re already there, can you?), a sense of humour, chocolate, wine and a husband who can cook and clean.

Was there a lot of research needed for you novel?

Yes. I spent a lot of time researching the Young Australian League, Police & Citizens' Youth Clubs and of course, the history of Holden. I had to get my facts straight :)

How much impact does your childhood have on your writing?

Heaps! We grew up on books and story-telling. My dad is a wonderful storyteller and Mum is a big fan of romance novels.

What are books for?

Reading, loving, cherishing and escaping the real world.

Are you fun to go on a holiday with?

You might have to ask my family that one J I get a bit cranky on aeroplanes…

If the story on the front page of the newspaper was about you, what would the headline say?

Crazy Author begs Sexy Policeman to Arrest Her

Do you work better with a word-count goal or time period goal?

Time period – word counts scare me :)

What is the most amount of words you’ve written in a day?

6503

If your book was made into a movie, who would you want to play the main characters?

Scott – Hugh Jackman

TJ – Sandra Bullock

Strangest place you’ve been writing?

In front of the bathroom mirror using my eyeliner pencil – true story :)

The most untimely moment when inspiration struck?

On the back of a motorcycle in sub- zero temperatures and our first stop 100km away.

Does your book have a theme song?

What about Me – Shannon Noll’s version

Do your friends ever recognise themselves in your books?

No, but my husband likes to think he’s the role model for the love scenes :)

If you could swap this world for your "book world," would you?

I could answer that but I might end up in very hot water!

How many books are in your TRB pile?

How long is a piece of string? :)

Craziest thing you ever ate?

In my wild youth, I once ate a snake we cooked over the campfire and washed it down with coffee that looked and tasted like tar…eew.

When all is said and done, will you have said more than you’ve done?

That’s highly likely J Sometimes the days just aren’t long enough…

To what degree have you controlled the course of your life?

The nth degree.

Would you agree to reduce your life expectancy by ten years if it meant becoming extremely attractive or famous?

Definitely not…I’d rather be an old man’s darling than a young man’s fool :)

Under The Hood Blurb:

When Scott Devin buys a struggling car dealership in semi-rural Western Australia, the last person he expects to see in charge is a stilletto-wearing, mini-skirted foreperson. Exactly the distraction a struggling, male-dominated workshop doesn’t need! But there’s more to TJ Stevens than meets the eye.

TJ Stevens has two major goals in life: to preserve her grandfather’s heritage and protect her teenage rehabilitation program — and she’ll go to any lengths to do it. Scott Devin’s presence is a threat to everything she’s worked hard to achieve, so keeping him at arms-length shouldn’t be a problem…or will it? 

Under The Hood Excerpt:

All the way up her steep driveway, he had a view of her perfectly rounded butt encased in snug fitting denim. All she had to do was wiggle that lovely butt and she’d have him panting at her feet, he thought wryly.  As she veered off the driveway towards a massive shed, he tried to remember the invisible line…and the rules. She dragged the heavy door back on its sliding groove and snapped on the light.  Industrial lighting blinded him momentarily as it revealed a beautifully restored 1953 Holden FJ utility. 

“Meet Bruce, the love of Sheila’s life,” TJ said waving her hand. 

Bruce and Sheila. He shook his head as he watched her snag a polish cloth off the work bench nearby and rub at the chrome badge on the hood. Scott stepped up to run a hand over the smooth cream fender before strolling around to admire the rear.

“New look tail light lens, original name badge, original hubcaps. Are these real white-walls?” He moved around the car. “Modified grille, genuine leather upholstery...” he noted in awe.  “Where did you get all this stuff?”

“...Straight-six grey motor with modified, longer-life pistons and torsional type compression rings,” she finished for him.  “I worked a lot of extra hours to pay for those parts.”

“Do you plan to do the same for Sheila?” He paused with his hand on the polished chrome door handle to look at her as she leaned a hip against the work bench.

“Yes.” She hooked the key off a nail above the work bench and tossed it to him. “Start him up.”

Scott didn’t need a second invitation. He caught the key neatly and opened the door to slide in behind the wheel as TJ popped the hood. He turned the key and the motor purred to life. He got out and stood next to her.

“Purrs like a kitten.” He ducked his head under the hood and turned his left ear closer to catch the sound. “Smooth as silk.”

TJ beamed. “Hours of fine tuning and good grade oil.”

“You know your stuff,” he said. He straightened and their shoulders touched. There it was again. That zing that couldn’t – shouldn’t – be acknowledged. Yes, she’d crawled right in under his defenses, this enigma that was TJ Stevens. A puzzle he could spend hours trying to solve. Her lack of self-awareness, her energy and enthusiasm, and the fierce pride that came to the fore when challenged – all these traits stirred his senses.

TJ felt his gaze on her face and ignored the pleasant shiver it sent tingling up her spine. She saw the hand he raised and felt his knuckles brush her cheek. She stepped out of reach.

“Mind your hands, Scott. I’ll drop the hood.”

What I’m working on now:

You met him in Fly Away Peta. He starts a murder investigation in Under the Hood. When will Detective Mark Johnson have his chance at happiness and what’s next for the bad guys? Find out over at Romance Book Haven.

On the Web: http://www.kees2create.com.au/

                    http://juanitakees.com/

Twitter:          https://twitter.com/#!/juanitakees

Facebook:    https://www.facebook.com/pages/Juanita-Kees-Author-Page/

Thanks for visiting the blog, Juanita!

Elise

My first fabulous guest on The Write Frequency, author Ros Baxter

I'm very excited to welcome Harper Collins Australia and Escape Publishing author, Ros Baxter, as my first guest on The Write Frequency. I'm fortunate enough to have her answering a few questions and sharing some information about her latest release, Fish Out of Water, available now from Escape Publishing.

Refresh your beverage of choice, sit back and enjoy Ros's fun interview.

Describe yourself in four words?

Busy (busy, busy, busy). Noisy (genetic). Affectionate (love a cuddle). Sleep-deprived. (Does a hyphenation count as one word?).

Do you write around anything? i.e. day job, kids…

I write around everything – four kids, a day job, a charity, and several voluntary roles.  But, as my mother, multi-tasker extraordinaire, always said:  you want something done, give it to a busy person.

Texting was invented for people like me. I have a thumb the size of a pumpkin.

Does your computer/iPad/laptop (choose one) have a name?

Sir. (In my head, it’s kind of bossy. I blame 50 Shades...)

Who would play you in a film of your life?

My daughter (when she’s a little older).  She does THE BEST impression of me.  Not particularly flattering, but accurate.  Loud.  Bossy.  But lots of cuddles.

Biggest writing-related mistake?

The first book I wrote was what I used to fondly call “kinda tangential”.  I had to learn that what works telling drunken stories to your mates doesn't necessarily translate to the page. 

For a start, you can’t scream at readers to “lissenup” if they’re getting bored...

Have you ever read/seen yourself as a character in a book/movie?

I think this is possibly one of those perspective things. Yes, I have definitely seen myself (dreamed myself?)as a character in a novel. Some flawed romantic heroine of course – you know: Catherine from Wuthering Heights, Anna Karenina et cetera.

My kids, however, possibly have a different perspective, depending on the day:  Mrs Dursley from Harry Potter, The Wicked Witch of the West, and various other killjoys.

My husband would probably cast a vote for some character who can’t say no and drinks too much wine.  Probably someone played by Meg Ryan (although I only wish my hair was that good).

And my friends would choose someone who frequently ends up in a muddle: Bridget Jones, Alison Scott from Knocked Up, and so on.

Are you fun to go on a holiday with?

Hell yeah!  If your idea of fun is lying in bed all day reading books in your pyjamas (oops, that’s my idea of fun)!!

If the story on the front page of the newspaper was about you, what would the headline say?

BRISBANE WOMAN FOUND DEAD STILL TEXTING.

Strangest place you’ve been writing?

I write everywhere – toilet, kitchen, kids swimming lessons, bed.  Strangest (as in, most unusual) place would probably be at my computer.

Many thanks Elise for having me.  Love the questions, and love your work!

Ros :)

You can email Ros at rosbaxterink@gmail.com or find her at www.facebook.com/RosBaxterInk, on twitter @RosBaxter, or www.rosbaxterink.com.

Blurb:

“It’s  Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum meets Splash in a sexy, smart-talking debut about a mermaid in a desert, a city under water, and the secret that no-one is supposed to uncover.”

Fish out of Water
Dirtwater's straight-talking Deputy Sheriff has a lot on her plate: a nicotine addiction that's a serious liability for a mermaid, a solider-of-fortune ex who's hooked on her Mom's brownies, a gorgeous, naked stranger in her shower, and a mysterious dead blonde with a fish tattoo on Main Street.

Oh, and one other thing.

She's scheduled to die on her thirtieth birthday - in three weeks - unless she can 'change the course of destiny and save the world entire'. Throw in a Mom who's the local Mayor and a Dad who's been locked in the county jail for twelve years, and that's all the trouble she needs without her mermaid roots coming back to haunt her.

Rania's heading home to Aegira for a family wedding but she's starting to have a sinking feeling that's got nothing to do with hydroporting seven miles under the sea and everything to do with some weird connections that seem to be emerging between her, the dead blonde, her Mom's shady past and a ten thousand year old prophesy. Now if she can just steal a corpse, get a crazy Aegirian priest off her case, work out who the hell's trying to kill her and stop sleeping with the fishes, she might be able to unravel the prophesy, the mystery of the missing choirgirls and the secrets hidden in her Mom's past. And maybe even save her own ass while she's at it.

Fish Out of Water is available from Escape Publishing, or Amazon. Find out more at www.rosbaxterink.com

Excerpt:

          The mildewy pink curtain billowed forward and a large shape crashed to the floor, right between Missy and me, wrapped in the voluminous plastic.  Missy screamed.

My heart tapped out a tango and one hand went to my Glock without any conscious command as I tried to disentangle the curtain from the lumpy shape.

As I pulled it free, I had one of those moments.  You know the ones.  Where everything slows down and you know that for the rest of your life you’ll be able to describe it in vivid technicolor.  Like the time I turned on the tv and saw that plane crashing into the towers.

He was almost supernaturally beautiful.  And naked.  A long trickle of thick red blood ran from the side of one temple down to a graceful jaw.

And he was lying on the floor half in and half out of Missy’s teeming shower.

Had he been there, in the shower, the whole time?

“Sweet Jesus,” Missy whistled, clearly impressed as she studied the region I was studiously avoiding.  As beautiful as he was, it didn’t seem right to be copping an eyeful.

Especially when he seemed to be in pretty bad shape.

He was long and lean, dark blonde and strong like a runner.  Golden hair glistened on his wet, brown body, but he was curled like a fetus and moaning softly.  Something about the sight of him, which should have screamed “get the pervert outta here”, touched me right down inside. Right down in my belly.  And lower.  I wanted to cover him up.  I wanted to help him. And some parts of me wanted to do other things too, but I wasn’t giving them any airtime.