Merry Christmas (of Less)!!

Christmas time is coming like a child hopped up on candy canes.  We have our Griswold family Christmas tree firmly planted in its plastic base and every type of ornament somewhat secured to its branches.I would be lying if I told you this is my favorite time of year.  The Christmas season comes in a firm second behind Halloween.  Halloween is simple.   Buy candy.  Make Costume.  Exchange candy.  Eat kid’s excess candy.  Hate that I gained five ‘chocolate’ pounds.Christmas is an entirely different ball of taffy.  First, it’s not just one day or one week.  It’s at least a month of planning, decorating, buying, and talking down children from the ‘When is Santa coming?’ cliff.  Second, the thought of wrapping hundreds of pint-sized gifts, baking enough cookies to feed at least three unfed armies (and let’s be honest, most of the cookies will end up as fat deposits around my bottom), and trying to keep my children’s hands off of the thousands of tiny glass ornaments that sit around our house; well it all makes me want to scream—not much, just enough that the neighbors can hear that I’m losing my mind.  Do you think if I do they will come wrap presents for me?

I’m not the Grinch.  Nope.  Far from it.  Okay, not far from it, but I swear there are things I love about this season.  I love…Hmm…I got it!  I really love Christmas Eve (which is the night our immediate crew unwraps presents and my side of the family comes over). I love watching my kids’ faces perk up when I tell them they finally get to unwrap their presents (which they’ve been begging to do for the last month).  I love the laughter that my family shares as we sip well-spiked drinks and tell old stories.  I love the feeling of being together and the love that we have for each other.I love Christmas day a little less, but almost with equal zest.  This is the day we make the run a few hours north to the in-laws’ house.  If it weren’t for the waking up at 4:00 a.m. to unload our stockings I would love it possibly a little more, but let’s face it—I’m not a morning person and travelling with chocolate-filled heathens makes me want to walk the two hundred miles instead of being cooped up in a car with them.This year, in lieu of becoming the Grinch, I’m rebeling.  I’m not entering a department store to shop.  I’m getting all my shopping done in a matter of days instead of weeks (I hope).  I will buy only the things necessary to let my loved ones know that I care.  I will not buy a single tie, all-in-one tool, or desk organizer (wait…if anyone has me on their list I could use one of those).  I will buy no animal-shaped chocolates that aren’t intended for my kids.  I will not eat my kids’ candy (or at least not more than three—no, make that four—pieces). I’m starting a new tradition.  I’m thinking about calling it “Christmas of Less.”  There will be no stress.  No unnecessary buying.  No ‘I want that’.  I instead want us all to remember what the holidays mean to us.  Is it about the stuff?  Is it about the million twinkly lights (don’t ask my husband that question—see Griswold above)?  Is it about the consumer-centric attitude that accompanies it?  No.  It’s about the simple things.  Love of children.  Love of Christmas.  Love of family.  It’s about the memories shared and memories made.  It’s the moments we cherish.

 So this holiday season I want us all to take it easy, cuddle up with a book, and enjoy the holidays.Merry Christmas (of Less)!

What I'm Working On...

This week marks the near completion of summer.  Schools are about to start, life is about to slow down and take a turn down the road of routine.  I welcome the change with open arms.  This summer has been filled with such incredible events; I've signed with an incredible literary agency, I've had my debut novel released in paperback (To learn more about the book or purchase please click here.), I've finished my second Veela novel, I've sold a novel and novella, and I've just finished writing the rough draft of the first book in my next series (though edits are still in order).I've been so consumed with the events of the summer that I'd like to give my readers a view into the life of my work-in-progress.  This new series is centered around the lives of Irish Travellers and their trials as they come to terms with the cultural and social changes that are occurring within their lives, while also dealing with paranormal activities.  I can't express how fun this book has been to work on.  It's dark, gritty--with unexpected twists and turns, and above all Exciting! (I'll say no more.)The Irish Traveller Series is set in Adare Village, Limerick Co Ireland, which is said to be Ireland's most picturesque village.  Below is a cottage in Adare.  One can easily see why the village would be given such a title.Near the village there is a cryptic, mystical, and enchanting Adare Manor, where the majority of the first book takes place.  I fell in love at first glance.Today, I've been working on a particular scene in Lady Caroline's Room, which is said to be the most mysterious and symbolic room of Adare Manor, as it's filled with angels and secrets.From the pictures, I hope you can tell why I have been a whirlwind of writing this summer--with settings like these it has been easy to be inspired and to fall in love with the Irish Traveller Series.   I hope to bring it to you soon!  And I hope you enjoy the last bit of summer.Slainte!   (Cheers!) 

The Key to Becoming a Great Romance Author is Having a Sense of Humor...

“A sense of humor...is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.”  Hugh Sidey One of my favorite and least favorite conversations is when I introduce myself to a new person.  I wait for the inevitable question, “What do you do for a living?”  My heart quickens, because I love my job.  I love writing.  I love creating.  I love imagining the impossible.“I’m a romance author.”  I smile proudly.Then from their reaction I know who the person is:  the non-romance reader cringes, the romance reader smiles excitedly and spills over with questions (I love these meetings—can you say ‘instant friendship?’), literary writers smirk and genre writers smile proudly and exclaim ‘Me too!’.It is truly amazing what you can learn from a person in the five seconds following my simple statement.Next I’m often asked, by the non-romance readers, “Why would you do that?”  It’s almost as if, by writing romance, in their mind, I’m instantly delegated to the social rank of a stripper or porn star.  Little do they know I’m far different than a porn star…I’m a professional writer—I know no pole dancing moves (not that I wouldn’t give it a shot), I don’t know camera angles, or movie making lingo, and I’ve never (intentionally) shown my ‘girls’ in public.What I most dislike about this assumption is the fact that they believe I’m writing smut.  My internal dialogue goes crazy.  Don’t they realize the amount of work that goes into writing a novel?  Story structure?  Pacing?  Dialogue?  Plot?  Acts?  Critiquing?  Editing? Going to conferences? Teaching classes?  Writing blogs?  Pitching the novel? Writing the queries and the dreaded Synopsis?   I’m sure they don’t mean to offend me, but the ‘smut’ that they are judging me for, is about 5 pages out of my 300 page novels.  It’s less than 1% of my work.  Yet, it comprises 100% of their opinion.  I don’t walk into their job and point at their coffee cup and say, “Why do you do that?”  (Though now, I think I just may.)During these lapses in conversational etiquette I always bite my tongue and give them the well-worn answer.  “I love it.  It’s a lot of fun.”  And I leave it at that.  If the person eventually becomes my friend, they begin to learn all that goes into writing, all the victories and the defeats, and soon they come to realize that most writing (even some literary) is, at their core, romance.  And over a glass of wine, they come to learn that most writers are not porn stars or stippers, instead only humorists in disguise.