Harlequin shakes things up at RWA

Most of my readers are writers, so you most likely have heard the news... Harlequin has opened its doors as a Vanity Press. What does this mean?

It means that a writer can now pay to get published under the name Harlequin Horizons. Not only that, but Harlequin will also earn 50% off the net sales on any book published through this subsidiary branch of the Harlequin Enterprise. Is this a sign of the times? Hasn't Harlequin been featured in national media as 'going strong' even as the economy plummets?

It makes me wonder if HQ is worse off than they claim.
...and here's a thought. If HQ stumbles, will ePublishing fill in where it leaves off?

Well, I for one, am not interested in paying $600 to have my books in print, only to make half of what the book is worth when it sells... Sells, because I marketed it. Ick. Thankfully, I wasn't looking at Harlequin to publish my stuff anyway. So, nothing's changed for me in that regard. I'm still going the agent route... and to NY! Huh, I wonder if Harlequin is considered NY publishing? Was it ever? Will it be now?

My world isn't so small that I think this will have an effect on the greater publishing industry, but in the romance world... it's big NEWS!

If I had a million Dollars Game

You remember that song by Bare Naked Ladies? If I had a million dollars I'd buy you a monkey? Well somehow it got stuck in my head the other day and hasn't gone away. And it's left me wondering what five things I would want if I had a million dollars. OK, more like a say, ten million (accounting for inflation since that song came out), but for reasons of cleverness in this blog post title, if I had a million dollars I would ...


Have a library like this ...

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In a house like this ... [yes, there's a housekeeper]

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And drive this car ...

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Vacation here ...

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With style like this ...

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Now it's your turn. Pick five things you would have/do if you had unlimited funds. Trust me, I know we'd all do something good with that money (I'd set up funds for couples wishing to adopt), but this is a purely selfish post. So be selfish and on your blog, post five pictures of what you would do with a million dollars. Be sure to put a link to your blog in the comments so I can see what you all would really want!

Oops, I did it again

I've been soooo good about keeping my check book balanced! Then, a snafu and I'm muck deep in NSF fees. :P How? How does this happen when I think I'm being so good?!?!?! I am officially a pain in my hubby's side over this... He has no sympathy, of course, but he does accept my apology and forgive me, so I guess I'm lucky to have him. :P Argh! To be perfect would be nice.

Alas, I am not.

So, onto a new week and a new start.

I have no sympathy for myself this week either. I've done almost NO writing. I have an entire story plotted and I'm not doing anything about it. Why?

I don't know.

Sitting at the computer just isn't that fun right now. And that is the worst mindset to have!! What if I was on deadline? Would I be saying that? Does this attitude show my seriousness about a career?! No. It doesn't.

So, tonight, I think I will force myself to sit and do at least an hour of work at the computer. No excuses... no distractions...

I hope everyone is doing well.
We are all hanging in there around here and the weather is helping us actually enjoy this time. We have so many blessings, so many things to be thankful for.
Take care.
With love,
Bethanne

Memories

I had a pleasant memory today. A good one, from before Diabetes. I've thought of it off and on throughout the years and a friend's post about candy on Facebook today resurrected it.

When I was a kid, three little girls could walk... at least 6 blocks to 7-Eleven. Gosh, it might have even been more like ten or fifteen! [The world was definitely bigger then.] We had our stash of cash, and came back to Mary's house with good gobs of candy. I remember the Runts especially. I don't know why. After sorting it all, and rationing it, we took off to do something else.

Whatever we were doing in those days...a quick trip to Richmond Park, a run through the sprinkler, a walk around the block to my house. On our return, we found Mary's brother eating our CANDY!

The memory sets a glaring light on how different my world is today. Forget Diabetes, how different the world is for my children. Where is the freedom of childhood for my children? It doesn't exist like it did before. Do I move to a smaller town? Do I search for the past?

My memories of life on the West side are so dear to me. Friends from those days are still my friends today and will be my friends tomorrow, too. When I write my stories, I pull from those memories. I pull from the emotions those memories evoke, because they are heartfelt and reminiscent of innocence. Deep down, I think the memories are why my stories so often feature reunions, old friendships and lost love. [No, I'm not pining over lost love. :P]

So, tell me. What is your favorite childhood memory?
...and have a great week!
With Love,
Bethanne

Exercise like I'm writing a Book

If I could just exercise like I write a book, I might maintain my ideal weight...and be strong. LOL Unfortunately, I exercise more like a mammogram--once a year, starting when I turn forty.



mammogram Pictures, Images and Photos <-- who is that dope, anyway? He looks way too happy! :D Thanks madameblue for sharing him with the world on Photobucket. :P


[Speaking of mammograms, have you scheduled yours? Are you self testing? Don't wait until it's too late.]

Man, that picture is worth the entire post, isn't it? I feel like I could stop here and be satisfied that no one would walk away disappointed.
Have a great November 10th.
With Love,
Bethanne

Excerpt Monday -- The Houseboat

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Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just an writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.

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Well, I missed the EM list this month. :P Doh! But I'll post anyway. Since it's Nano, I have plenty of crap to share. I'll have to post my excerpt with an R rating because there is a bit of language in it. Hope you enjoy.
With Love,
Bethanne

*

Brother glanced over to check on his sister, sitting on the very edge of the couch and balancing her tv dinner on her knees. Olivia was five today and Dad hadn't remembered in time to bring home a present from Walmart after work.
No surprise, there, though, and he was used to helping out. His dad said he was a effing helper. At school, his teacher even gave him a star for helping clean the erasers.

This time, Brother knew just the thing to make up for his mistake. The storage space under the house had been flooded earlier in the summer so the mud that was the floor sucked his shoes with every step he took to the back wall. His dad could reach the top shelf, no problem, but he had to climb. He breathed a sigh of relief, finding it dry. The bracelet he'd put there after his mother left had turned a funny green, though. He shrugged.

Olivia's favorite color was green.

Someday, he'd thought he would buy her one of those pretty rings from the television, the one with a great big stone on it. It was as big as a chicken nugget!
A roar blared from the screen, drawing his attention back to the wrestling show that came on every Thursday night.

“Dad, maybe we could sing Happy Birthday to Olivia now.”

Olivia stood with a smile and picked up all the trays. She was shy, even with her family, and blushed when her dad looked at her and narrowed his eyes. With a quick look at Brother, she fled the room. He could hear the lid of the trashcan as it snapped back into place.

His dad grunted. Not a great sign, but he did place his beer on the table. “You didn't get no cake, did you, boy?”

Brother's pulse jumped at the accusation in his dad's question. “I-- I made a cake.”

“No cake.” Red-faced, his dad slurred with a frown. “You know goddamned well, 'Livia can't have cake. It'll take the very life from her.”

“No-- no-- There's no sugar in it. I swear. I followed the recipe and didn't add any sugar.” Though his hands shook, he stood his ground. “Just like the doctor said, no sugar.”

“Effin' A, you little pipsqueak.” Looking through the top of his eyes, the bags beneath, dark and sagging, his dad relaxed back onto the couch with an chuckle. “Son of a bitch. They's said you was slow. Pricks, the bunch of them, sitting in their offices and handing out effin' evaluations. So, you made a cake. No sugar.

“'Livia! Come on in here so we can sing you a happy birthday.”

Brother turned and coaxed Olivia from out of the hallway by holding out his hand with a smile. “Sit here. I'll go get it.”

The cake was small and it had risen too much, then fallen when he took it out of the oven. Opening the drawer next to the stove, he pulled out a candle—a pink one. Perfect for a girl. Carefully, he placed one foot in front of the other down the short hall. The cake wobbled as he entered the living room.

“Watch it!”

Olivia's smile gave him courage and he gripped the plate a little tighter as he took a deep breath and started to sing. She sang with him, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed. The guttural sounds of their father's voice, joining in, startled him for just a fraction of an instant. Brother knew this was a special day, and Dad must have figured it out, too.

With her eyes closed so tight—she looked just like his friend Kim down the street—his sister blew out the candle.

“Did you make a wish?” he asked, teasing her.

Her curls bounced with her answer.

“I got a present for you.”

His dad sat up and eyed him suspiciously. “You steal it, boy?”

Brother took the wrapped gift from his pocket and set it on the table. “I'll cut the cake while you open it.”

She took her time, and he worried when her movements became clumsy. When she wasn't feeling well, she needed his help more. He really was a big helper.

Finally the small package was open. The bracelet looked much worse up here.
He wasn't supposed to cry. That's what his dad said. So he blinked away the prickly feeling.

“It's lovely. Thank you so much.” On her wrist, it could have been gold and he was proud that he'd given it to her, even if it wasn't. The smile she sent him was quiet, as if she understood things he didn't. She touched his arm before coming around the table and hugging him. “Thank you.”

Brother closed his eyes and hugged her back. She gave the best hugs ever.

“Looks like a piece of crap to me.”

With a wink, Olivia ignored their dad. “Let's go outside and play until bedtime.”

Glad to escape the disappointment of that small room, in that dark house, he grabbed his sister's hand and raced toward the front door.

“Aren't ya gonna eat the goddamned cake?”

They slowed but didn't stop.

“Don't forget your sister's medicine! Before bed. Don't forget.”

*

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers can be found on the Excerpt Monday Webpage.
Note: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

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Day 7 and a night out

Nano Nano... I sound like Mork in my own head.
Not doing well all that front. *eyeroll* What can I say? I'm distracted.

Had a good night out with some friends last night. Met someone new. Yay! My first visit to Doherty's was well worth the time it took me to get there. Good food. Good atmosphere... Good Fat Tire. We closed our section on chit chat, laughs and a few hiccups. :D

The kids were sleeping when I got home, so I read for a little bit then went to bed.
Today, the weather is beautiful and everyone has been outside all day. My spirits are up and I look forward to a new week. One in which my husband gets back on the get-a-job wagon and I get back on the writing wagon.

Have a blessed weekend.
With Love,
Bethanne

Attraction vs. Endurance

What brings two people together?
What makes them click?
I've been thinking about this lately. I have a friend--not a writing one--who just got divorced, signed the papers this week. And I'm so sad for her, though she's still in the what-a-jerk camp that I can tell by her facebook profile... although, now that I think of it, what a horribly public medium for having a divorce. Ick.

I got off track there....

Oh, the core of a romance novel. The nucleus of entertainment today, including movies, books, music is Love.

Putting two people together who will survive whatever life throws at them. Is there a formula? A personality equation? Will the love doctor diagnose what ails us or makes us thrive?

I don't think so. I've read the personality books. I've read the birth order books... I get that there are some kinds of people who will compliment another type more fittingly. But there are always exceptions to the rule! And when an author can combine the unexpected and make me believe, when real life has shown me the same, I can believe in love. Twooo Wuv. I believe that a marriage doesn't have to fit an equation. It doesn't have to adhere to any psychological standard. Because love is an action that I wake up every morning determined to do.

...and even when I fail to love as I should, I have Faith in the bonds that God created between Matt and I. And if we do our best--even flawed--to follow His commands, our marriage will survive. We've been through alot...

But there's comfort in our faith and in the grace of sacrifice, and in honor and loyalty. So, I pray for those who don't share that.

*looks around, blushes, and steps off her soapbox*
With Love,
Bethanne

Last day before NANO

My husband is so intuitive. Or maybe he remembers last year, I don't know. But when I made the announcement yesterday that November 1st was the start of National Novel Writing Month...

He immediately said, "So, tomorrow is your day to clean?"

I just laughed.

But yes. Today is something of a cleaning day. The bathrooms, th floors, etc. Obviously, I won't be able to get out of everything--laundry, meals, sweeping and vacuuming. What can you do? I'm a modern woman with responsibilities to my family... and myself.

The novel I'm starting is another Romantic Suspense.

Since the day she discovered several bodies near her home in the Louisiana swamp, Marie has closed herself off to life, and anything resembling joy. Her former friend--one of the murder suspects--has spent years overcoming the stigma of that crime and her betrayal. Together again after fifteen years, will a string of new murders forge their alliance or permanently damage the growing bond?

Well, that's it in a nutshell. :D I really hate those nutshells!
Have a great weekend.
With Love,
Bethanne

Who votes?

I have this threshold for tolerance--maybe it's ethical or moral or maybe it's just plain common sense. I've been hanging around the online writing community for about 3 or 4 years. Supporting the people I care about, the writers who have given to me and the community, is important. In my critique group, there's an obvious balance. In Romance Divas, there's a hierarchy, well-made and well-maintained. There are rules and that makes the forums run smoothly. RWA yahoo groups also has this approach. These places would not exist without its members and those members understand the delicacy it takes to keep peace.

OTOH, I belong to a Writing Workshop yahoo group. In the time I've been on this loop, I've participated in maybe 2 workshops. For me, this is not a place to make friends, to share life stories, to shoot the shit. Writing is my hobby, my joy, but it is also my WORK.

But just when you think a place is friendly.... you find out that IF YOU DON'T VOTE FOR THE WRITER, WHO SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS IN THIS POST, ON A READER REVIEW PAGE, BITTEN BY BOOKS, you get threatened with the removal of LOVE, with the fear that YOU won't be chosen as one of the ELITE.

Our charming, egotistical leader claims that out of 1400 members only 300 voted for her. Even after all that threatening [gasp], shocking. Isn't it??? And she is applauding the people who succumbed to her threats!!! Seriously, how weak are you? I found this really repulsive. This is not a matter of winning by merit. This is out and out indulgence, it's blackmail...

I find it hard to believe that Bitten by Books would be happy to hear that this is going on. Which brings me back to my original theme about tolerance.

Though I LOVE my fellow writers, unless I know you as more than a writer, unless I know how many kids you have or if you've been divorced, and most importantly unless I'VE READ YOUR BOOK!!!, I will not vote for you.

And truly, if a person thinks love is found in a voting both, I don't know how that person can realistically write ROMANCE.

No More Girls

First, I have to show you what's in my yard right now. We have these crazy landpeople who have filled our yard with a number of trees--cigar trees, elms, sycamores, maples, curly-leaved willows... They are on the verge of choking each other out [the trees, I mean], BUT right now, it's too pretty to complain. :)





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I'm really sad to say that the blog I do reviews for has closed down. :( It was fun to be able to talk about the books I've been reading [which seems like none, lately]. The truth is, we all got a burned out over the past few months and we lost a couple of Girls....

So, on to other things...
and now, I may just have to post a review or two here on occasion.
Hopefully, I will be able to pick up my reading habit again. :P
We are a week from National Novel Writing Month.
I am jumping in again this year with a new Work. Another romantic suspense, heavy on the suspense. I've been plotting for a few weeks and feel this is going to be a worthwhile effort.
In other news: 2 rejections on the agent front with 6 still out.
I will be sending more out this week.
Have a great week, everyone!
Love,
Bethanne

Breakfast

I can't eat pancakes for breakfast anymore... or cereal either. They make me feel soooo crappy. LOL That sounds like an odd blog topic, but I sat down to work today, and my head feels funny, my stomach feels off. Bleck. Just when I want to get something done!

Have you ever heard that artists are somewhat absentminded? I've heard that too. oh wait, I am that. It's why I have two calendars and bits of paper everywhere with notes: call Dr. B, Call Amy, phone numbers some with names attached, others without [and I always have to think about who the name belongs to, too]. Today, I stood outside with my youngest and waited for a bus that was never going to come. No school today. Parent Teacher Conferences. Oops. LOL I forgot...and it's not on my calendar, either!

What about you?
Are you disciplined and organized? Do you never miss an appointment? A date? Are you always on time? [well, actually, I'm an on time person, too] I hate being late!

Protecting God's Children

Nowadays, people are required to take a training course in how to Protect our children from sexual predators. Volunteers, teachers, coaches, principals, pastors in my Diocese... This is what has become of our society, a place where worry is too needed. I went to the workshop last night. I watched the video interviews of victims and even a couple of perpetrators. And I was really sad [grossed out, too, but mostly sad]. Some of the information was common sense--what to watch for, what to do if you suspect it.

I was surprised by how calculating the villains were... the planning, the manipulation. It was not pretty, not reassuring. And when I finally walked away, I thought to myself, 'it could be anyone'. It could be the guy who was sitting next to me tonight. It could be a friend. Perhaps we are supposed to guard against paranoia, and I will try. One mother there boldy stated that her children do not go to birthday parties or sleepovers. Part of me applauded her.

Last year, I sent my daughter to a sleepover at her girlfriend's house. And she had a wonderful time. I'd met the parents and I knew the young lady who was their daughter. But the portrayal of these bad guys last night made me think... it doesn't have to occur. Violation of a minor happens, sometimes without that minor knowing. And if I have to worry about what everyone is thinking, if they are planning... well, then I'm screwed.

I guess we need Faith. We need the tools to Protect our Children. Our children need to know they can come to us. They need to know they are cared for and loved. Even when adolescence has thrown monkey wrenches into our communication lines, we have to be strong and brave against what the world is throwing at us today.

It's an uncomfortable topic, but it must be addressed, right?
With love for my children,
Bethanne