A WEEKEND WRITER NO MORE --

Wednesday is about writing, and I certainly have something to share today.

On Monday of this week, I submitted a letter of resignation at my day job. I say it’s time. My writing friends say, it’s about time.

After fifteen years of working in education and employment programs with disadvantaged clients, the last seven of which also included a second job - writing novels for Harlequin - I had reached a crossroad. It’s not because I wanted to tell my employer to “take this job and shove it.” In fact, I’ve derived immense satisfaction from assisting people to earn their GED diplomas, construct resumes for their job search, and provide food from our pantry when they needed sustenance. I have enjoyed the camaraderie of co-workers whose goals were similar to mine. Lunchtime with some of my peers has resulted in good friendships.

I have also enjoyed receiving a paycheck every week! Writers are self-employed with income arriving sporadically.

I will miss the day job; I do not leave it lightly. But time is passing.

I know I am fortunate to have tasted success as a novelist. The pleasure of connecting with readers who write to me about my stories, the author friends I’ve made, and the joy I’ve had in delving deeply into the craft itself cannot be overstated. I’ve loved it all! And want more. My goal is a full-time writing career. Are there stories I might imagine if I had more time to dream, or to conduct research? Do I have the skills to flex more writing muscle? Frankly, I don’t know. But I want to find out. And time is passing.

I have already lived the dreams of every little girl – falling in love, becoming a young wife, a new mother, an equal partner in a wonderful marriage. I count my blessings every single day. And although time is passing, there is a season for everything. This is my season for a new dream.

I wish you many seasons and many dreams.

Linda, who loves reading and writing Everlasting Love stories

Holiday Magic

As many of us have, I’ve just emerged from five days of stepping outside my daily routine to celebrate Thanksgiving with family and friends. I have hosted the celebration at my home for the last twenty-seven years, when the table has been set for anywhere from six to thirty people. We always seem to manage to find room for those who cannot be with their own families—friends of my children from California or Texas or Louisiana; exchange students from Austria or Croatia; German colleagues of my husband who first discovered apple pie and sweet potato casserole at our dining room table. It’s a great joy to me to prepare and share a meal with others that echoes dishes created by the many women who preceded me in the kitchens of my life.

My home since last Wednesday has been filled with sunlight and laughter; the warmth of a woodstove and the quiet of young people curled up on couches reading; the beat of the latest rock group thumping through the floorboards from the rec room in the basement and the energy of fifteen teenagers devouring turkey fajitas and chocolate chip cookies; my husband’s arms around me as we luxuriated in four days of no alarm clocks or early morning commutes.

It was a magical time to slow the often frenetic pace of our lives and acknowledge all the blessings we have—in our children, in each other. Yesterday afternoon, as I emerged covered in twigs and leaf fragments after spending three hours plucking piles of oak leaves from our yard (one of the costs of living in New England), my husband simply embraced me in the middle of the driveway—a thank you for sharing the work and enjoying a glorious day.

It is these moments of peace and gratitude and generosity that are the true magic of long-lasting love.

Fun Friday

Something fun for this Friday?
Real easy. Shopping, shopping and more shopping!
But I'd like to add a twist to this idea.
Let's call it an educational opportunity.
Why not have a guy's night in? That is, while you're shopping, why
not have the man in your life do the post-Thanksgiving evening meal?
Sure, he'll probably serve leftover turkey,but it's for a good cause.
Here's the educational part; if he doesn't cook now, he'll have an easy meal
on which to begin his chef experience. If he's already a good cook, he'll do
something really amazing with yesterday's turkey.
Either way, the lady of the house will get a well deserved break.
Stella

Thanksgiving Rituals

I know this is supposed to be Writer's Wednesday, but as Thanksgiving is tomorrow I thought I'd deviate a little from the schedule. I've been cooking all day-- doing the baking, pre-cooking the sweet potatoes, making the stuffing, etc. so that tomorrow will be a fairly restful day and I can spend it with my family (watching football with the boys) and our guests (more of the same).

I have to admit, I haven't been near a computer all week-- at least not to write anything more in-depth than a couple of blog posts. But sometimes, I think what I've done this week-- clean, cook and ready the house for Thanksgiving-- is as important to my writing as sitting in front of the computer and pounding out the words. Because it's renewed me (except, of course, for the cleaning which just exhausted me) and reminded me how grateful I am for my family and friends and all the other wonderful things in my life.

I wish all of you a wonderful and happy Thanksgiving, filled with love and happiness. May each of you experience peace and happiness as this holiday season kicks off.

Tasty Tuesdays all over again.

My husband and I once owned a house on the shores of Minas Basin, which has some of the highest tides in the world. It’s a beautiful spot, but somewhat remote. This meant that you had to be a really good grocery list maker to have all the necessary ingredients in the house, and a freezer to match.
The community in which we lived had many social events involving food, or course.
This recipe is one that came out of chasing around the kitchen looking for ingredients to make a promised dessert—ingredients I’d left off the infamous list. With the Thanksgiving holiday upon us, this would be a quick dessert, and a pretty one as well.
You need one of those prepared graham cracker crusts. (Or you can make one with 2cups of crushed graham crackers and ½ cup of butter, blended together, pressed into a pie plate, baked @ 375F and cooled.)
Then blend together an 8 oz package of Philadelphia Cream cheese with 1 cup of white sugar, and ½ cup of whipped topping. This makes a creamy white layer to go over your cracker crust. Spread a can of cherry pie filling over the top and refrigerate for a couple of hours. This bright red dessert with a dollop of whipped topping and a sprinkle cinnamon on top will work at home for your family, or any event where you need to take a dessert.
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone.
Stella MacLean

Magical Monday Even When it Rains

It's raining today and the cold cut right through my new polar fleece poncho as I ran my errands . The sky is a familiar steel grey, the color that lets me know winter is fast approaching. My gaze clings to each brightly painted leaf, especially the orange and yellow ones. They'll be mush on the ground in a matter of days.

October is my favorite month of the year, due to the autumn and riot of colors. I love a crisp, cold day, and an excuse to heat up the kitchen with the oven in order to bake something delicious. November is a close second, as it's still fall and there's Thanksgiving and all the preparing that entails.

But also with November comes the reminder that all good things end. Fall is ending, the days end early, and I'm reminded that my time anywhere, be it a duty station or even here on earth, is finite. This makes it doubly important that I chose whom to spend my time with and how to spend my time, each and everyday.

This parlays into my writing. I chose to write fiction, and romance fiction, that gives me and my reader not just a HEA (Happily Ever After) but explores the how's and why's and why not's of a life-long love.

Because that's what I'm doing each day, in my own life. How about you?

Happy, Joyous Thanksgiving to all of you!

Fun Friday

Because of the rain beating into the ground and making a river out of our street, it's my turn to drive children to school this morning. As I wend my way back home through the traffic, I find myself wishing I could just take off and do something totally useless. Yeah...something that added nothing to my day, except an escape.
But I'm so well trained to "do" things, "look after" things, meet everyone's expectations of me, I stayed the course and came home.
So, I'm home, reading the Everlasting Blog, and thinking that maybe I should finish my blog and turn off my computer for today.
And then?
Then, I'd like to dig through all my old CD's and find some very venerable old friends and their music. That would include Frank Sinatra, the Beach Boys, and maybe a few tunes from the Rolling Stones. And of course, Eric Clapton.
While the music's playing, I'm going to dig out all those old photos I've kept boxed up through the years, and I'm going down memory lane with my family. And as soon as the stores open, I'm going to buy as many photo albums as I can carry and bring them home.
I love old pictures, remembering family reunions, and seeing just how peculiar my parents looked in their bulky, black-framed glasses. I treasure the old black and white shots of cousins peering shyly toward the camera, and the way so many of our family pets were captured in these shots.
Today, I'm going to be disciplined about having my down time, my fun time.
Today is for me.

KEEP THE EVERLASTING LINE ALIVE

I decided to write today about this wonderful new line called Everlasting Love that seems to be struggling. The more of the books that I read the more I want to stand on a mountain top and proclaim how great they are. The books are so well crafted and the stories have all been varied and real to me as a long time reader of all types of books. They're more than romance, they're family sagas and relationships bound under one cover. And because of the word count they're books a reader can finish in a couple of days. Finishing the book doesn't mean letting go of the characters. I find the one's I've read stick in my mind. They are books I will re-read. So I hope if we have readers or other writers still visiting this site that you will continue to support this line by buying the Everlastings and by telling friends about them. Christmas is coming and what better gift to give than a book which a recipient can open and enjoy time and again? If you've never tried the line, you are really missing some fantastic reads.

EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE...

This month sees the release of my eleventh novel for Harlequin Books. Eleven. Every one of them was a challenge to write. I sweated the ideas. I worried about the characters. I wondered about what happens next. Words, words, words! I needed words. But I needed them put together in just the right way for readers to care about the characters as much as I did and want to turn the page. Smoothly written prose that doesn’t touch the emotions might as well not be written.

Every once in a while, however, a story comes along that almost writes itself. THE SOLDIER AND THE ROSE was that story for me. Like a waterfall from which I was the source, came words and ideas so quickly, so instinctively, that once I started writing, I knew this story had been sitting inside my heart for a long time. A story of everlasting love. A story of family.

Stories of my own family’s beginnings in Brooklyn, NY dangled in front of me, and I immediately had the setting for this book. Not only could I picture the house and street, but I smelled the aromas coming from the kitchen – I still make those recipes – I remembered the hair styles and dresses that I’d seen in pictures of my mother and aunts. I recalled the sense of community as they talked about their young lives through the years of the Great Depression and WWII.

Most important of all was the family itself. That wonderful satisfaction and security of belonging to a family that loved me carried over from my early days in Brooklyn to the present time. Although they are gone now, the older generation is with me still - in my heart- at all times. Isn't this also what an everlasting love is about?

So, Charlie and Rose Shapiro, the soldier and his rose, were shaped by the hard times of the 1930’s and 40’s, but like all lovers throughout history, discover that love transcends anything life can throw at them.

Please join me tonight for a chat about THE SOLDIER AND THE ROSE and about Everlasting Love - the books or the reality. I hope to see you in the chat room at NovelTalk at 9:00 ET / 8:00 CT. You can use any name to sign in. Here’s the link:

http://www.noveltalk.com/chat/default.asp.

Two copies of the book will be given as prizes.

Best,
Linda

A Chat on Wednesday

Hi all,

I'm stopping by to invite everyone to a chat about The Soldier and the Rose and our Everlasting books this Wednesday evening, November 14th at 9:00 ET, 8:00 CT.

The conversation takes place at NovelTalk.com in the chat room. It's very easy to enter. I'll post a direct link on Wednesday when I actually blog here. Just wanted to give you a heads-up to put the time on your calendar.

See you Wednesday,
Linda

A Tribute to Our Veterans

It's Fun Friday, and I will talk about my fun weekend ahead, but first I have to take the time to wish each and every reader a wonderful, thoughtful, provocative Veteran's Day. Linda Barrett's THE SOLDIER AND THE ROSE and my A RENDEZVOUS TO REMEMBER were both released this month by Harlequin in order to celebrate Veteran's day and the sacrifices made by so many for all of us. Both Linda and I chose World War II themes, and I think you'll find there's so much interest in this time in history once again. Perhaps it's to remind ourselves that freedom has never come easily. Or to remind us that each generation has its sacrifices, whether it's a war, natural disaster, or other tragedy.

Yet through any tragedy hope will triumph. Sometimes it's there right away again, such as when we saw so many people go to New Orleans after Katrina to do what they could to help. Other times it takes longer, such as when we visit a Holocaust Memorial and hope that perhaps by educating our children this kind of atrocity will not happen again. Sometimes we have to dig for the hope, like after viewing the scenes in Darfur and only getting the tiniest bit of hope when we see the world at least become aware of the genocide. It's not always enough, but we are human, so we look for the hope. It's in our nature.

This weekend and next week I'm celebrating in style the release of my first book. I'm having a brunch in my home, and spending time with special people who have been with me on this journey. They are my sisters- and brothers-in-arms. At times life can seem like a war, and we all feel like a veteran. But I'm all to aware that I wouldn't be enjoying this wonderful time in my life if not for the veterans who gave the ultimate sacrifice to ensure the continuation of freedom and democracy. How blessed, how fortunate am I.

As are all of us.

Do you have a special veteran you'd like to thank this Veteran's Day?

Changing Seasons

It’s finally beginning to feel like winter is coming to New England, as the temperature dropped below freezing for the first time last night. I was the first one home this evening in my hard-working household, so it was my job to get the fire going in our woodstove and warm up the family room and kitchen where we seem to live most of our lives. Fortunately, Pop Moody, the seventy-year-old woodsman who delivers our cord every fall, stopped by on Saturday with his truckload.

I love this time of year. This morning on my drive to work along Lake Quinsigamond, the light hit the trees at exactly the right angle and every leaf seemed to be on fire. The variations in nature’s palette always astound me, especially so in this season. I am a painter as well as a writer, and I’ve often been inspired by and have tried to capture the vibrancy and play of light and color in the surrounding hills.

When I’m painting with words I’m trying to capture a different kind of vibrancy—the energy between two people, and the light and shadows through which they move in their relationship. My stories track the seasons in a marriage—the tender hope and renewal of early spring; the languor and sometimes intense heat of summer; the bittersweet pleasure of fall that urges us to seize the day before the leaves are stripped bare; and the uncompromising honesty of winter, when we can only to turn to each other for warmth and comfort.

There is something both exhilarating and reassuring in the cycles of our lives.

A Sporting Romance?

I'm in pretty good shape. I'm healthy. I'm competitive. And I don't stand a chance against my husband in any sport known to animal or man. A number of years ago, I wanted to put aside time for "play" to balance all the time we spend at our jobs or doing housework or yardwork. It was time to break up the everyday routines of work, work, work.

I suggested tennis. There were courts near our house open to the public. "Free" sounded good. We wouldn't keep score, just have some rallies, develop our skills and have fun. Forgeddaboutit!
He couldn't hit softly, and I could barely return a ball. He t-r-i-e-d to hit hit softly but it was impossible for him to keep to that level. I guess I should add that he outweighs me by about 70 pounds and love sports - playing, not watching. He was so delighted about the idea of playing tennis together, he had an extra spring in his step - which he used at the court to dance circles around me. After ten mintues, I was beet red with legs that felt like rubber. He was scratching his head. So much for being in shape.

I suggested ballroom dancing. No big muscles required. We'd take some lessons and be equal partners totally in sync with each other. Watching the look of horror grow on his face, I kissed my version of Dancing with the Stars goodbye. Dancing with the Barretts simply was not going to happen.

Next, we bought roller blades - with knee pads and wrist pads - for skating on the 4 mile path in the nearby county park. He got twice the mileage for his money. As a good husband, he felt the need to check up on me - often - after he left me in the dust.

Finally, I hit on the magic answer. Join a gym. Despite the previous failures, I still wanted us to engage in a physical activity that kept the joints moving and the heart beating...okay, an activity in addition to the one that's crossed your mind just now :) At a gym, we could work at our own pace, using our individual weights and machines. So we joined a gym and now, years later, we're still pushing, pulling and hoisting metal with some aerobic excercise thrown in.

We're both happy, but I can't figure out what all this proves. Is it that couples who sweat together stay together? Or does credit go to the regular ten-minute car rides back-and-forth where there are no outside interruptions? When we leave the hosue for the gym, we also leave the telelvision behind...as well as the phone and the computer and the dishes in the sink. And for ten minutes, we are in the moment with each other. I like that. I like it very much. But...if he also suggested a dance lesson, I wouldn't say no.

Dancing is something that Charlie Shapiro, in my current book, THE SOLDIER AND THE ROSE, does with his wife regularly. He can also carry a tune. I guess if I can't get it in real life, I gift these talents on the heroes I create. November is the month to remember our soldier-heroes, the month celebrating Veterans Day. Both Geri Krotow's book, A RENDEZVOUS TO REMEMBER, and my book do just that. I hope you'll give them a try as once again we pray for peace in our world.

Shalom,
Linda

Thoughts for a Thursday.

I was interviewed yesterday for the upcoming release of my Everlasting Love book, Heart of My Heart. The lady doing the interview asked a lot of questions, and then made the comment that she found romance writers to be women of such passion when it came to their stories. She found it inspiring to hear women talk about their stories with such enthusiasm.
Her words took me back to an incident at my local office supply store where I was getting my manuscript photocopied. When the young woman passed me the copy of my manuscript, she said she couldn't help reading a few passages as she made the copy. She said that she could identify with my heroine because like my heroine, she'd been pregnant as a teenager, and her family had disapproved. She wanted to know if my character made out okay in the end.
In retrospect, I should have mentioned this to my interviewer. I should have told her that passion for writing romance comes from knowing that your story directly impacts the lives of others.
What more could a writer ask for?
Stella