North Carolina

Sometimes a Leap of Faith Requires Staying in One Place

~ kimberly ~ 2 Comments

A few days ago I was volunteering at Snarky Daughter’s school. It’s a small school, so if you show up at all during your kid’s years there, you’re pretty much guaranteed to know the entire staff. So it didn’t take a degree in rocket science to figure out that the Career Counselor was having a rough week. It was Tuesday.

We started chatting and I learned he was back in school getting his Masters, and we were talking about how became a school counselor, etc, etc. Eventually it turned to my day job search, which after a year, continues to be a chorus of, “You were a finalist, but we went with the person who had twelve years experience in exactly our field.”

We moved on to the maybe it’s time for me to go back to school, get a degree in something else, rack up some student loan debt (two years before Snarky Daughter goes to college) and find a new job.

Me: I’m not against going back to school, but I need to decide what direction I want to go. If I could find my passion before I made a move…

Counselor: Sometimes you need to just take a leap of faith. Find a program you like and trust you’ll find a job on the other side.

Me: I lack faith. You know in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, when Indy has to take that step and trust that there is a way across the bottomless chasm (is there any other kind of chasm)? And he does it? Right. I’m the one turning around saying, “I’ll face the Nazis.”

But something he said clearly resonated with me, because within ten minutes I was changing my attitude. For the last six months, I’ve been putting my life on hold because I didn’t have a day job. I’m not trying to meet anyone because I’m afraid I’m going to have to move. Why would anyone want to date an unemployed writer? No, I won’t be serving another term on the PTA board because I can’t promise I’ll be here come fall. On and on it went, with me turning away from life because I might move this summer.

But on Tuesday, with the help of the counselor and then my hairdresser I decided to change it up. Instead of putting my life on hold because I might move, I’m going to start living and assume that the job will find me.

Zion National ParkI thought I was good with all of this. And then last night I had a horrifying dream that while trying to park my car the brakes didn’t work and I went flying over the edge of a small version of the Grand Canyon. In dreamland, I didn’t have my seatbelt on, and yet remained in my seat, and knew that if I could get my seatbelt back on before the car hit the ground, I’d be safe. At the last second I got it back on, and sure enough, the car and I were fine.

There are days in my life when I really wish I had a dream interpreter. Yeah, this one is pretty clear. I need to take a leap of faith. Apparently I will survive. And no, I’m not going to put in a link to Gloria Gaynor because now that I’ve mentioned her, you’re all singing along anyway. You’re welcome.

If the job finds me here, great. If I have to move, guess what. Life will go on. Wherever I go, I’ll still be writing romance novels, so I’ll be happy. And I will have experienced life in the meantime.

 

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March Madness

~ kimberly ~ Leave a comment

My house is white again. For some March brings basketball. Don’t get me wrong. If you’d had a webcam on me beginning on Thursday, you would have found me watching the ACC Men’s Basketball Tournament. Really.

Twenty years ago, driving cross-country with my then fiancé, we hit ACC country in the middle of the night. We crossed some river and here we were. We’d been chatting about something mundane, probably about what it would be like to live in more than five square feet again. (We’d been driving for three weeks, with an over-packed travel trailer.)

But we crossed a river, maybe into Georgia? And the Ex looked at me and said, “OK, you have to choose a team.”

I didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. In the two years we’d been dating, I’d learned there were parts of the country who cared about college basketball. Who knew? Not me. I grew up surrounded by professional teams.

“Chapel Hill.” Not living here yet, I didn’t realize we referred to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill as UNC or Carolina. As if the other schools in the UNC system don’t even exist.

Without missing a beat, he said, “Pick again.”

I’d considered applying to Chapel Hill, so I didn’t realize what the problem was, except that the Ex went to their rival, NC State.

The Ex explained that I could choose any other school in the ACC (there are 12, soon to be 15), just not Carolina. Pretty sure I was wearing my Carolina sweatshirt at the time, just to spite him. Because I like to pick.

“State pretty much sucks, right?” (See previous comment.)

He agreed, but stressed I didn’t have to choose State. But I did. It’s that Cubs fan thing coming out. I’m used to supporting the underdog. As it turns out, State is sort of my alma mater. I attended a week-long textiles class there, so I have a certificate from them. That’s almost a diploma.

So, Go Pack!

Anyway, spent the majority of a beautiful weekend watching TV, knitting and eating a lot of stuff that had wheat in it. Saturday was gorgeous, but State was playing so I hung out with my neighbors and cursed at the appropriate times. If you saw the State/Miami game, there were lots of appropriate times.

In case you wondered, yesterday it was a balmy 77 here. 77!!!

Usually by the time ACC Tournament comes around, we’ve had some great weather and I’ve had time to pressure wash the house. This year, we had a cold snap in March, so the house was still green.

So, after State lost and Carolina won — Go Heels — (the neighbors are Carolina fans and they fed me) I realized we had another hour and a half of sunlight. Woo-hoo. 77 and sunny. I ran home (OK, no running), said a prayer that the pressure washer would start, and washed half the deck.

Yippee! By the time I was done, I could barely move. I’d started my day with DDP Yoga, then gone out to weed a garden for a couple of hours, drank the pain away while watching basketball, and then tackled the deck.

No, I could not move this morning. Which was fine since it was supposed to be about 55 today. But then I let the dog out, and I REALLY wanted the house to be white again. So I whipped up a batch of wheat-free biscuits, plopped them in the oven, told Scout Son to take them out when the timer went off, and ran to the store for bleach. No, it’s not environmentally friendly, but it’s the only thing that takes the mildew off the house, so suck it up.

Two hours into the process I stopped for lunch and to put on dry sweats. Also, I’d had to put more gas in the washer, and it apparently needed a rest before it would start up again. At that point I really wasn’t sure I’d be able to get it started again because my hands looked more like claws, locked into place.

This would have been the time to stop and, you know, watch the championship game. Did I? No. Tarheel Neighbor will read this and flip out because I’m sure if I’d been sitting on her couch, wearing any shirt I wore earlier this week, drinking and knitting in “my spot,” Carolina would have won. (Um, the game ended four hours ago and I just found out who won. Not Carolina. Oops.)

Five hours in, I was done. My house is white, the deck is clean (and needs to be painted), and the kids cleaned every downstairs window. Those who know me and love me will ask, did you get on a ladder?

Yes, I did. BUT, for once, I got one of the kids to hold it whenever I was on uneven ground or using the maximum force attachment. And good news! It’s going to be too cold for the next week and a half for me to paint the deck. Go Pack at the NCAA!!! And Carolina too!!! And I’d be ever so grateful if someone would take out the University of Miami in the first round this week.

For me, March Madness involves a pressure washer. What about you?

 

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Wintery Mix aka Sleet

~ kimberly ~ Leave a comment

Ice. 1/10th of in inch of ice really doesn’t sound like much. Because. It. Isn’t. Unless you live in the South. Then, it’s a crisis. Here’s how yesterday went for me.

5:50am – Phone rings. Blindly reaching for phone to beat it from ringing a second time on Sarcastic Roommate’s day off, I accidentally hit some button that was not “talk.” And there went whatever the school system wanted to tell me regarding school. Sigh. Now I must leave bed and stumble into the living room to find a laptop and see that was so important. Right. School’s out at 11:00. THAT was information I needed at 5:50.

6:00 – Let dog outside. It’s 20something out there. Balmy. She’s a Doberman. No undercoat, so no doggy insulation. She should be an honorary member of the Polar Bear Club.

6:05 – Awake now, so hey, let’s do a killer yoga workout. Have I mentioned DDPYoga to y’all yet? It’s a really low impact aerobic yoga workout. And if the kids are coming home early, I want to find my inner peace early.

6:12 – Princess Cassie returns from her frolic outside. She must now curl up under multiple blankets and supervise my workout. Because yes, a Doberman adds inner peace to any workout. Have I mentioned three cats are whining at the baby gate at my door, reminding me, just in case I forgot, that yes, they do need Prozac in the morning.

7:20 – Borrow Sarcastic Roommate’s car to drive Snarky Daughter to her carpool. Discuss what to do if college class is not cancelled (which takes place after high school closes).

7:45 – Hello, shower. I love you. You are warm water. You are peace. There is no dog. There are no cats. Can I stay here forever? Well no, because then you couldn’t…

8:00 – Make Orange Cranberry Scones. Yum!

8:30 – Look out window while eating scones and reading morning blogs – oh hey, it’s snowing! Three hours before forecasted. Wonder how long before school cancellation gets -RING! Right. Kids out at 9:30. How nice for them. I think this was the moment I decided work was not happening today.

8:45 – Text from Snarky Daughter. College class still on. What do I do? Response from me (apparently sent via email to her father): Come home.

9:29 – Panicked call from Snarky Daughter. Do I get on the bus? YES!!!

9:30 – Make Apple Cranberry Dessert.

9:32 – Call from Scout Son: School’s getting out early. Me: Get ON the bus. Really, children, my car is in the shop. Unless you plan on walking home, you better be on these buses.

10:00 – Start making Butternut Squash Soup. I told you, at the point kids were coming home early, I gave up on any real work getting done. The snow has now turned to sleet and I want the house to be warm and inviting when the kids come home. Yeah, I’m that mom.

10:30 – Scout Son gets home and goes up to bedroom to pack for going to Dad’s. It’s the coldest day of the year and he doesn’t want cocoa. Go figure.

11:00 – Requested text from Snarky Daughter saying she is one stop from her bus stop. Stop making soup so I again steal Sarcastic Roommate’s car so Snarky Daughter does not have to walk 1/3 of a mile in the sleet. Have I mentioned how friggin’ cold it is outside? I’m being a really good mom today. My characters are totally jealous.

11:15 – Back to making soup.

11:18 – Text from mechanic. Car is ready!!! Praise God. And there’s not enough ice on the roads to keep me from picking it up. Let’s be real. There could have been 8 inches of snow on the roads and I would have gotten to that car. Stop making soup. Again.

12:03 – Back with car. I am now really poor, but the damn thing works, which is good because I am now driving 2 hours for a job interview on Monday. Finish making soup. Ply kids and ex with soup, pot roast and dessert.

1:30 – Everybody leaves. Now it’s time to sit down and work. Except… Scout Son left his DS on the couch. Long story short, thanks to the ice, Friday became a Saturday. And today I work while I wait for the ice to melt today and refreeze tonight. But I have soup, and a Doberman curled up next to me, so it’s all good.

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Writing Wednesday: To Edit or Not to Edit

~ kimberly ~ Leave a comment

The Heiress at the Door contemporary romance series begins in North Carolina. But the second book takes place in the San Francisco Bay Area. People have asked why I switched coasts for the second book that’s due out in May.

The truth is, it wasn’t intentional. When I wrote The Heiress and Her Fake Fiancé, it was intended to be the first of three books that take place in Blakely. Jessica’s brother and her best friend also get books. But when I finished Heiress, I was visiting back home in the Bay Area. I needed a break from Blakely, so I started The Billionaire Bachelor’s Revenge, another trilogy. I assumed I’d bounce back and forth between the two series.

But then I got nervous when I finished the book because both books start with a woman at the door. Both women are heiresses. Would readers be upset because the books have similarities?

It took my critique partner to point out that was a selling feature most publishers would love. Of course, that created a new problem because book three wasn’t starting with an heiress at the door. But it could. If I was willing to throw out what I had and start over.

As writers, we all face revisions some point. Lucky for me, I wasn’t really happy with the way the book was working, and I really liked the idea of the Heiress at the Door hook, so I was willing to face the music and start over.

The key is being willing to look at what you have and weigh the benefits of major rewrites. If an editor is suggesting the changes, it may be worth doing. As long as the suggestions don’t change the book to the point that the story is no longer your own. Or one that you’re willing to tell.

Edits don’t always mean massive changes. In my case, after reviewing the opening scene and looking at what wasn’t working for me in the original, I realized I can probably keep a lot of what I have. It’s a question of tweaking things here and adding a couple of sentences there. Yes, the first scene will have to be changed drastically since there is no door. But the heiress is there, so I can use what I have as a base to build on.

But typically when I edit for others, or I take edits on my own freelance articles and books, when you stop and really listen to what the reader is saying, the changes are minor. Adding emotion here, clarifying something else there. What seems at first glance like a mountain of “Oh My God, How Will I Ever…” becomes “Oh, if I bring out the emotion here and add a sentence here about…” and it works.

For one article, the client thought I would need to rewrite the whole thing. But when I listened to her concerns, it took a total of 30 words to change the feel of the article and give her what she had wanted. Thirty words I was happy to add because it made the story better, gave her what she needed and got me a paycheck.

Advice is lovely. Critique partners offer it, editors offer it, friends and family offer it. But at the end of the day, you have to take that advice and see if it melds with your opinion as the author, because at the end of the day, it’s your name on the cover. So consider suggestions from others. But don’t think you have to run with them. Only you know what your final straw is as far as changing your story for others. Just keep an open mind when you get the suggestions. Mull them over for a few days and see what comes of it.

And always save your original version before you make changes. That way, if you hate the direction the changes take your story, you haven’t lost a thing. And you’ve learned something along the way.

 

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Countdown Begins to Heiress and Her Fake Fiancé

~ kimberly ~ 1 Comment

Wow. This is like a first date without having to stare awkwardly at the guy across the table. Or a decent meal to go with it. Hang on, this whole initial blog announcement needs something to go with it. Wine…dog drool (that’s Cassie’s suggestion for anything having to do with the computer)…chocolate. That’s it. Celebratory chocolate!

I’m so excited my book is entering the final stages of publication. Cover art, line edits, reviews, cover quotes, website, blog. There’s so much to do before The Heiress and Her Fake Fiancé is released in November.

Obviously, I’m starting with the website and blog so you all can get to know me while the excitement builds. This is the first of my Heiress at the Door books. The Heiress and Her Fake Fiancé takes place in a small coastal town in North Carolina. Take a bit of Morehead City, add a dash of Wilmington, and a smidge of all the other small Carolina towns I’ve visited over the years, and you get Blakely.

Later Heiress books will take place in San Francisco and Europe. Having lived on both coasts, I’ve taken my favorite parts of each locale and made them the backdrop for my sassy romances.

If you know me, you know I’m the sarcastic one. I can’t turn it off, and stopped trying to years ago. It shows in my stories. I’m still trying to get a handle on the webiste, blog, tweets #NoCassienotTreatstweets and everything else that goes into a book launch. So bear with me while I work out the kinks.

When I’m not writing, I’m gardening (can you hear the weeds laughing?), knitting, cooking and playing with my kids and the crazy pets we have. Or running from the kitten who currently rules the house. It keeps me busy. When seriously avoiding deadlines I can be found baking sinful things, like the chocolate chip and pecan cookies I made earlier this week when Photoshop was being cranky about my banner.

So, welcome to my world. My clothes are a little tight, the kids and the music are loud, and there’s a fair chance a Doberman is howling in the background. But without chaos, I’d lose my mind!

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