Thoughts and Musings

A New Phase

Ah, Marti, the dragon arrives on all sorts of wings. I've tried to write non-fiction for a long time, and I just don't seem to have the gift for it. Specifically, I'd like to write about my daughter, but perhaps I'm too close. So far, I've only managed a dozen or so magazine articles. So I find what you do equally remarkable and inspiring.

And....

There is little that has pushed me to write like seeing a book in print. It's a nudge in the back, like the thumb of God shoving me forward. I've sketched out two book ideas this afternoon, one of which I may pitch to my editor at Steeple Hill. :)

I also got word that Romantic Times magazine gave A MURDER AMONG FRIENDS 4 1/2 stars. I'm now trying to find the magazine with the review in it. More on that later.

All of it fodder. I write. We all write. When you're a writer by spirit as well as profession, it's what you HAVE to do.

The Arrival of Murder

It doesn't release to the stores until February, but my copies of A MURDER AMONG FRIENDS arrived today. What a great Christmas present!

The title is hotlinked to the book's Amazon pages, but here it is also on Barnes and Noble. It won't be available on the eHarlequin site until next month.

I'm tickled pink, as my mother would say. :)

Over the next month, I'll post a few excerpts from the book, so you'll have more of an idea of what your getting for that five bucks.

In February, Steeple Hill is expanding their Love Inspired Suspense line from 2 to 4 books, and as a new author, I'll be either 3 or 4 for the month. Which means that if the bookstores and chains don't pick up those last two, orders may depend on requests or online. So PLEASE order one (or ten :) ).

I'm going to start with the back cover copy...and possible an excerpt later in the day. After I stop bouncing off the walls and grinning.

From the AMAF back cover (which I did not write, so thanks to the one who did):

The death of bestselling author Aaron Jackson turned Maggie Weston's world inside out. The manager of Jackson's Writers Retreat, Maggie knew a murderer hid among her colleagues and friends. Was it actress Lily Dunne, target of a stalker's obsession? Lily's writer husband, struggling to make a name for himself. Money-loving Korie, Aaron's wife? Or someone else?

Maggie herself stood to inherit from Aaron's estate. As former New York City cop Fletcher MacAllister piled up evidence against Maggie, only faith kept her strong. And Fletcher needed to rekindle his own faith in time to prevent the killer from claiming another victim.

"Ramona Richards has ingeniously woven together two stories and given it to her readers as fiction inside fiction. A Murder Among Friends is filled with human emotion and woven with faith's struggles. From the first chapter till the last, you won't stop wondering and you won't want to stop reading, even if you put the book down long enough to grab a fresh cup of coffee."
--Eva Marie Everson, CBA bestselling author of The Potluck Club series

Mellow Energy

I've felt remarkably stress free today, despite more high energy movements. I've driven more than 200 miles today, been in 3 different states, unloaded a full car twice, bathed Rachel, did laundry and reworked my bed. I've had two sets of company and celebrated Christmas twice.

And it's only 6:30.

I need a nap.

But I'm dying to write. Every conversation, every stop I made gave me ideas, details to take note of that would build character, a sense of place. I listened to most of an unabridged recording of Thomas Cook's Red Leaves, finding myself engaged and paying careful attention to not only his story but his craft. Here at home, I have a copy of Uppity Women of the Renaissance that I checked out of the library. I'm also finishing up some editorial work on a book for a friend.

Still the words call. Haunting. My dragon wants to be fed.

And I came across this comment in the Uppity book, about premiere actress Elizabeth Barry, a description that resonated with me, in more ways than I can truly make sense of at the moment.

"Except for a time-out hither and yon with a titled honey, hardhead Barry stayed single and solo--a state of affairs which earned her character attacks noted for their viciousness. Fortuantely, the attacks were but mere words, the raw material Barry worked with every day."

Sometimes, you just know in your gut, in your heart, when what you've seen or heard or read is important, even if you don't know why. Perhaps it's because I am also comfortable and energized by Barry's "raw material."

Prayers, promises, and a touch of quilting

Mellow afternoon. Working a little, praying a little, taking joy in tiny things, like our family legacy of quilts. I come from a long line of quilters, as do most of us who are only a couple of generations off the land and out of the Great Depression. My mom and I have been pulling all the quilts out this afternoon, going over who stitched what, where they lived, what the materials are, what was going on in their lives at the time.

One of those quilt tops was pieced for me in the late 1950s, a birth present from a family friend. The top remained unquilted until the early 70s. My paternal grandmother remarried at 70 and when her second husband died 7 years later, she moved in with my folks for a bit and quilted the top then. My life during the 70s and 80s made accepting any of the quilts belonging to me an impossibility. Now, fifty years after it was given to me, I can finally take possession. Now, it's a story worth the telling.

In fact, I feel a story coming on, even as I type....

So here's hoping all of you are celebrating with life, love, and a touch of the legacy we all leave behind, whether we plan it or not. :)

Merry Christmas.

Christmas Musings

In about ninety minutes, Christmas Eve will arrive quietly in this neighborhood. I'm at mom's, in a rural area outside a small town in Alabama, an area normally so still that you can hear the jet of a hot air balloon passing overhead. No planes or trains, even the semis create only a distant echo.

We've already opened our gifts and caught up on all the family gossip. The longer I stay away from the family hometown (about 90 miles SE of here), the more I lose memories of who people are. My mom no longer puts up a tree, just a few decorations. Tomorrow, we will go do church, celebrate The Birthday, then just enjoy our time together.

Rachel, on the other hand, is at a wild party, spending the holiday at a Victorian 150 miles north, with three families and a gazillion kids. Tomorrow and Monday will be filled with thrilled squeals and a blizzard of torn wrapping paper and ribbons.

Monday afternoon, we will come back together to recover...me from the driving and her from the exhausting excitement.

Some folks have thought it odd that we spend the holiday apart. Obviously, I don't. Rachel loves those folks, and they give her what I cannot - a celebration to remember. I, on the other hand, recognize that my time with my mother is growing shorter each year. I don't see her much and I want to cherish each moment.

Life is uncertain; we all know there are few guarantees. The last couple of months have been extraordinarily eventful, and those I love have lost precious folks; some are struggling with that even as I write. So surrounding ourselves with those we adore, to hold them close, is one of the few things we can do for ourselves and our families. Something never ever to take for granted, no matter what age or stage of life we are.

Which brings me back to the promise of the one true Christmas. Of all the things Christ brought back into our world, one was an overwhelming, overarching love...a love to hold but also to share. And share again.

I dearly hope each and every one of you are sharing love today, tonight, and in the future.

MIA

Gack. When the blogging spirit leaves you, it does so in full force. And I can't really blame this one on anything except a dire determination to straighten some things out in the rest of my life. A bit of that has been achieved, but most has not. I hoping to get back to the swing of blogging soon.

In the meantime, I'm back on a branding kick, and conversations with a couple of my favorite marketers have convinced me to go with the most obvious...and easiest. My hair and glasses. I do have contacts that I wore for my last headshot and usually at conferences, but I do have a propensity for funky glasses. They think I should go for the gold there and worry about the clothes later.

I do have a couple of conventions coming up, which is why it's on my mind. I'll be at the Love Is Murder conference in Chicago in February, then at the Romantic Times conference in Houston at the end of April. I'm also working with the RWA on a couple of things. Still writing on CLUES...and a couple of other jobs as well. Keeps me hopping.

Tomorrow night is our church contata, and I have a solo...agonizing now, not only because of nerves but because I'm fighting a cold and at dress rehearsal last night, I sounded as if I'd swallowed a ball of cotton. This is one of those moments I really have to turn it over to God.

Finally...welcome, Marti! I enjoyed "meeting" you as well, and I'm looking forward to working with you.

Blessings, all.