Aah, it's morning!

So chipper last night, this morning it feels more like chipper-shredder. Allergies are kicking my butt. It feels like I have a hang-over all over my body, but mostly in my head. God, two years of allergy shots and I still feel this bad occasionally, but it is occasionally and not constantly. Which is vast improvement.

Just got the kiddo off with Grandma to her yearly check-up. Jon and I are off to get allergy shots, I'll throw my Rio player, and CD player in the back-pack along with the Bose headphones. If the allergies allow me to think, usually when the book's going this well, it means I can write almost anywhere. We'll see. Gotta run

On a roll

Woke up at 6:00 A. M. again. Without an alarm. Woke up with the book clear in my head, and ready to go. There are days when I think a little longingly of dog walkers, nannies, and personal chefs. But I can't imagine giving that much of my life away to other people. So let the dogs out, make tea, breakfast, get the kid up. Then off to work some mornings I've made it by 8:30, if I give up Pip's morning walk. (He caught an infection, so since he's been under the weather he hasn't minded. We're close to a well Pip, though, so I'll either have to get up earlier or be at work at 9:00 instead. Thirty minutes to make my dog so happy, not a bad deal.) I've had a tremendously productive week. Twelve pages is the least I've done, and twenty-eight the most. Very cool.

Usually I have to sort of ease into work in the morning with softer music, but the last few days I've been able to start with Seether. Though later in the day today I did get out a musicial, back to 1776, because I really haven't found a musical for this Anita book. But I think I have found the Christmas music for it. A VERY SCARY SOLSTICE from the H.P.Lovecraft Historical Society. It takes traditional carols and some modern ones and redoes them to Lovecraft themes. Some sample song titles are; I'm Dreaming of a Dead City, Here Comes Yog-Sothoth, Little Rare Book Room, Away in a Madhouse, It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Fish-Men. You get the idea. The album combines two of my most favorite holidays, Christmas and Halloween. I have always loved either scary Christmas stuff, or cute Halloween stuff, and if you can combine it so that it's cute, creepy, disturbing, and fun, well, you can't beat it with a stick.

Good night and pleasant dreams.

The Greater St. Louis Renaissance Faire

Went to the Renaissance Faire yesterday. It was, as always, a great deal of fun. Trinity wore the royal purple dress that her grandmother made her. We added a purple plumed musketeer hat at Ren Boots, and a wonderful toy dragon from Bast's Gifts made of felt and glitter and some kind of curving wire inside it so the dragon can perch on the wrist or shoulder. The shopping is always one of the highlights of any Renn Faire. You actually don't have to give into the shopping bug to have fun, though. You can watch knights on horse back joust, or not on horse back hack at each other, all in good fun. There is a quest that the kids can do, so that at the end of the day they can be presented to the King and Queen and be made Princesses and Knights, respectively. Trinity loved that last year. This year, she was more interested in trying the boffer swords. Padded foam swords that they let the kids try out, with a referee, also a child. It was very cool. The little girl who was doing the instructing was very serious about her job. Trinity won her match, handily, using mostly the point, and good lunging skills. She was declared the winner. Handed her sword back, and came skipping up to me with a big smile, saying, "I killed her!" That's my daughter.

There are shows galore from an ariel act, to fire eating, belly dancing, singing pirates, plays mostly farce and comedy. There was a demonstration by the World Bird Sanctuary demonstrating falconry. Pony and camel rides. There were lamas to pet, and an Irish Wolf Hound almost as big as the lama. The baby geese piping in their enclosure was a very cheerful sound. I'd forgotten how much I like the sound of goslings.

Darla and Jack came with us, along with their son Jason, and grandson Eric. Eric wasn't all that impressed with the faire because he rubbed sun screen into his eyes within moments of getting to the faire. Not a happy toddler. They ended up having to call the day early because he just never got back to his usual happy self.

We saw one little baby under six months in a kilt fast asleep in his father's arms, who was also wearing a kilt. Very cute.

Lots of costumes. Lots and lots of people in costumes, both the people who were part of the shows and the parade of characters and just visitors. You could buy (or rent) a full outfit for yourself and join the fun. As Trin did. Our friend Greg, in from Texas, dressed as a peasant, because nothing else would fit in his carry on bag. He does beautiful costumes. The black leather musketeer outfit he wore to the Kansas City Renn Faire was to die for.

None of the rest of us dressed up. I find most Renn outfits a little warm for St. Louis in the summer. Beautiful, but either too warm, or they remind me all over again why I am glad that women's fashion has moved on a bit. Lovely outfits, quite beautiful some of them, but not practical. I guess, really, women's formal wear hasn't changed all that much. Beautiful, but it's still not very practical.

Richard went with us, as did Andrew. Andrew is six feet five inches tall, not a small guy, but I swear, every time we took our eyes off of him, he vanished. I don't know how he does it, but he can disappear in plain sight better than almost anyone I know. How does he do it? Charles's theory is that every time Andrew stands still he just blends in with the trees. As good a theory as any.

If you were at the Romantic Times Convention you met our friend Charles. He was the brunette, the strawberry blond was my husband. Apparently there was some confusion about that.

Rett MacPhearson and her family were supposed to come with us but due to a family emergency they could not come. She and her immediate family are fine, but they did not get to go to the Renn Faire with us this year. Hopefully next year. Rett is one of my few friends that has children around Trinity's age. Most of my friend's children are teenagers or older. And once some of Jonathon's friends marry, they'll be starting at the other extreme with babies. I guess Trinity is just meant to be the only child when we go on trips. Just as our group outings seem heavily weighted to men. No matter how many people we try to invite, it always seems that more guys are able to go than ladies. One would think that the Universe is trying to tell me something... But what?

One of the things we missed was Aaron Williams of Nodwick and PS238 fame. He is going to be at one of the art booths next weekend. Jonathon was a bit bummed, because he really likes those two comics. I like them as well, especially PS238. Its a comic about superpowered kids going to an elementary school just for them, hidden under a normal school. Its as if the major superheroes have had super-children and this is the school for them. Its very fun.

Only one more weekend for the Faire, so if you want to go, go today or next weekend.

I feel a great disturbance in the Force...

It is as if 23 years of my life cried out and were suddenly silenced.

I'm not sure if I can ever watch Star Wars (of any kind) ever again.

Untitled, too early to title something

I ate breakfast with a Hercules fork, as in the Disney movie. Because we forgot to run the dishwasher last night before bed. You know you're low on silverware when you're hunting up the Disney and Seseme Street stuff in the back of the drawer. Dishes are washing as I type this. We managed to have a hot, cooked breakfast so all is right with the world. So to speak.

I'd set my goal that one of us would blog something every day, I think we'll scale that goal down to five days a week. That's goal enough, I think. Besides I'm not sure what to blog, frankly.

The last time I talked about a friend visiting us from out of town, a male friend, some imaginative fans speculated sexually about what we were doing, or going to do with a very dear friend of ours. I have not told him, nor will I. It would have hurt his feelings terribly, and shocked him. So the one or two people that said it, if what you wanted was to curtail what appears here in this blog, it worked. I don't know. Sometimes I just don't understand people. I don't understand being mean just to be mean. It never makes me feel better to make others feel worse. I take no joy in the suffering of other people, but apparently some out there do.

So do I talk here of trivialities, forks and breakfast, and leave out any personal details for fear that someone will be cruel. No. I guess I'd already decided, no. For all you descent human beings out there. For all you people who are truly fans, or friends, or just nice, this blog is for you guys. Not for the crabby, mean-spirited, dirty-minded minority. If I let a few ugly comments stop me or limit me, then they win. They don't win. Never let the bastards get you down.

So, here goes. Our friend Richard is finally back from Italy. Trinity was so excited when we picked him up at the airport that she was like this cute little limpet attached to his arm. She was heartbroken that he had to go home to his folks house. Why couldn't he stay at our house? We explained that his parents and sisters hadn't seen him in six months either, and they missed him just like she missed him. It really didn't carry much weight with Trinity, she's ten so her missing him counted more to her. I couldn't blame her. We'd all missed him. Though he did scout Milan for us and come back with lists of restaurants and sights that we might want to see when we go to Italy this fall. For those who don't know Jon and I are doing a book tour of Italy this fall. It will be the first foreign book tour ever. It will also be my longest ever airplane flight. AAAH! Not looking forward to that part. But if I can do the flight to Italy and hold it together than it raises hope for longer flights later. Maybe plane rides are like lifting weights, you just have to work up to it. Maybe. And no, before someone gets onto the internet and says that Richard went over to Italy to scout for us. Not true. He went over because he has an Italian girlfriend. A much better reason to visit than business.

Emotional distance, Jason's story, and morning tea

Waiting for tea to boil before I go up stairs. Must have more tea. I'm running a low grade fever and have been for a day or so. I thought I was simply depressed and finally getting weepy about my grandmother's death. Nope, fever. I was sick. I was actually a little relieved. First, it meant I could finally give up and lay on the couch covered in dogs, watch some videos and veg, rather than trying to force myself to keep working when nothing was coming. When you're relieved that your sick so you can give yourself permission to rest, it means I need a vacation. But I don't see that happening anytime soon.

Where Jon and I want to go is England, but the thought of putting my phobic little behind on a plane for that long right now, is just not doable. I'm holding it together with the whole grieving process. Worked through the sheer being pissed part, or as much as I ever work through anger. I tend to hold onto anger. I'm learning to let go, but not my best thing. But as I peel away the layers of all that confusing emotion, it's hard. And that's all I'll say about that. I know there are blogs out there that just spill their emotional guts, but if that's what you want, look elsewhere. If you want to see how ugly my mind gets read one of my books. My personal stuff is personal. Or as personal as being a semi-public figure can let it be.

On the upside to all this emotional confusion I've come up with a book idea with an emphasis on Jason. I'd original thought it would be one of the novel-lites, ideas that didn't fit into the main books, but were things I wanted to write. The novel-lites seem perfect for things like Sunday dinner with Richard's folks, or a holiday for Nathaniel like he never had as a child. But Jason, the character, had a point. He has been around longer than some of the main guys, like Micah and Nathaniel. Jason didn't want a novel-lite; he wanted a novel. A novel for him. Who am I to argue when a character comes to life like that? We'll get to see Jason's family, and just making notes for it let me know more about where he came from than I'd ever known before. The novel-lites seem to have freed me up to explore some of the characters in new ways. Always good thirteen books into a series. By the way, guys, do not get on the inter net and say that I'm doing a book from Jason's point of view. I am not. But as Obsidian Butterfly was Edward's book, so this one will be Jason's. Anita will go out of town with him on his family business. And it will go horribly wrong, or it would be a novel-lite and not a novel.

The Jason book will either be Anita 14, or taking Anita home to meet her family for thanksgiving will be 14, and Jason maybe 15 or 16. Some things that will be happening in the current book, Danse Macabre will help decide how close I want to put Anita's family visit to this book. I'd planned on going home to see Anita's family for the first time in book 14, but with my grandmother's recent death, it may raise too many issues for me. Anita's family and mine are not the same, but Anita's emotions can impact mine, and vice versa. I don't want my grief getting in the way of her meeting her family on stage for the first time. So maybe go meet Jason's family, give Anita and me a little emotional distance. Right now a little emotional distance sounds pretty good.

Musical mysteries

Been listening to so many different types of music that I don't always remember what I've got in which player. I preview stuff before I have Jon put it on my Rio player. Well, this morning I thought I had the new Tori Amos album, THE BEEKEEPER, in the player. So I put on my headset, and pushed play. I about blew me out of my socks. It wasn't Tori Amos, it was Seether. I don't know about you but when it's early and I'm expecting one kind of music, and get something completely different, well, it was a little startling. Apparently, I'd switched discs late in the day and forgotten. My bad. I love Seether's album, DISCLAIMER II, but it's not first thing in the morning music. I like to ease into my day a little more gently than that. Mornings are usually Sarah McLachlan or Tori Amos, then I hit the Rio player which has most of the soundtrack from DAREDEVIL, and THE PUNISHER, as well as about half a dozen songs from the Seether album. I'm about to put the entire album on my player, except for maybe two songs. I'm also listening to a variety of other bands. For some reason the music that I write this Anita book best to, are harder than my usual fair. It's one of the reasons that I've had trouble deciding what goes on the player. I keep thinking that the harder phase is just that a phase, but no, as I look at hitting two hundred pages, I think if I can find a big enough variety of music that harder is what's going to see me through. Okay, it's not black metal, but it's harder than I usually work to. There's a lot of music I like to listen to that doesn't work for writing. No idea why.

Sleep

We've been running short on sleep for days. I am one of those unfortunates that needs eight and a half hours sleep every night to really feel good. I have so not been getting it. This morning I woke up and felt refreshed. Why? Because it was 8:30 and I'd managed ten whole hours of sleep. It felt so good. Trinity is with her father this weekend, so no scampering of little feet. The dogs were a little unhappy, but they were good sports about it. It is an absolutely beautiful day. The sun is shining, it's warm but not broiling. Though it has the feel to it that around noon might not be time for a walk in the sun. Mad dogs and Englishmen, you know.

I've been doing okay, but this morning I feel better than I have in awhile energy wise. Anyone who says things like, you can sleep when you're dead, or when you're thirty, just doesn't understand that sleep is where the body and mind repair itself. It's where we heal. It's why lack of sleep has been a method of torture and interrogation for centuries. Don't torture yourself, if you can help it. Life is hard, it'll torture you enough on it's own. Pleasant dreams.

Mornings

Are we the only ones that find mornings this hard? My grandmother seemed to make mornings effortlessly. Of course, she woke at 5 A. M. every day. So by the time she got me up at a 6:30, she'd had an hour and a half to get her ducks in a row. Jon and I are so not getting up at 5 A. M. Just not happening. So our mornings are like most people that I know . . . frantic. But we've managed to fix real breakfast for the last two weeks. That was a new goal. Jon and I decided that we were going to get up early enough to have the kiddo have a cooked breakfast before school every morning. We cheated a little this morning, because she had blueberry muffins that we'd cooked yesterday morning. The three of us can't eat a dozen muffins, so fresh muffins last two days, usually. Unless they go for afternoon snacky bits. Trinity loves blueberry muffins. Fresh baked anyway. If it's a store bought muffin sometimes she only eats the blueberries out of it.

What really topped the morning schedule scramble this morning was that it stormed last night. I knew it had, but apparently I was the only one who realized how much it had rained. My family slept through it. I am the lightest sleeper in the house. I've always been the lightest sleeper in the house going back to childhood. Never know when someone might be sneaking up on you, gotta stay alert. Anyway, the rain turned the back yard into a morass. Jon had to wash the dogs off in the back bathroom while I did breakfast. Jon and I just didn't think what the rain would mean since the part of the yard next to the house is still all dirt. They're regrading and smoothing things out today. Supposedly the new brick patio will be started Monday. Why a new patio? One whoever did it the first time did a bad job, and the brick and mortar was disintergrating. Then the old sewer line that dated back to the late 1940s had to be replaced, and guess what, the line went right through the patio. So for many reasons a new patio is needed. But the back yard looks pretty desolate. It's been really hard on Phouka since she is almost completely blind now. There is rock and cement pieces, huge dirt mounds. It's a maze for the dogs and people that can see, so we've been carrying her down and back.

We turned a large tread track into a path through it. I kept joking that I felt like I was taking the trail down to the water hole. One morning I was narrating our trek in that nature program voice, "As we make our way down the narrow dirt path towards the water hole. We are on constant alert for maurauding lions, and the occasional leopard . . ." Jon grabbed me from behind at that point, which made me scream like a girl. Then he laughed his ass off, and I laughed too. He apologized, and said, "I just couldn't help myself." I'll put him infront from now own. I guess what I really have to watch out for in the morning is maurauding husbands.

Anyway, that's some of the highlights about why the morning was frantic. There were some other adventures like the chocolate crossoints that rose in the fridge overnight into one big Frankenstien mass, but that's a blog for another day.

St. Louis Art museum

If you have any interest in beautiful antiquities, ancient American cultural, or learning things about your own country's history that you probably didn't know run, do not walk, to the St. Louis Art museum. The exhibit is Hero, Hawk, and Open Hand, which are three of the most common motifs on the pottery, carvings, metal work, of this amazing exhibit. One of the neatest things about it for me as a writer is that I set my fairies in the Cahokia mounds which is included in this exhibit as part of the history and where some of the artwork and ceremonial items were found. I have books on the Cahokia mounds, pictures of items, but there's nothing like seeing them face to face. As I learn more about the sight and the culture, I realize that there is another story to be set around Cahokia in the future. Far future for me when Merry and her men are living their happy ever after ending. I would love to include more native American, or ancient American culture and myth in the Anita series, but I ran into a stumbling block when I was researching for the book OBSIDIAN BUTTERFLY. Most of the published information for the pueblo Indians that have much detail are in dispute. Many of the early writings contain what are considered secret and, or scared, knowledge that they shared with the early anthropologists and historians out of friendship. There was no expectation that the ceremonies that were shared would ever be published for public consumption. So many of the most detailed and useful books are controversial. I ran into people that treated me as if my interest in their culture, history, and religion, was suspect. I was not Native of any flavor to this country, so since it wasn't my ethnic group, it was not mine to use in fiction. I gave up on using the research in a book because I did not wish to offend anyone. The history of the Native peoples in this country is confusing and dark enough without me wading into it. If anyone can think of a way around this maze of confusing views, and hurt feelings, and the absolute right of the Native American people to keep what is sacred to them sacred, and still allow me to somehow use it in fiction without pissing lots of people off, I would love to hear it.

Kung Fu Hustle

I needed a little cheering recently, so Jon and I decided to go see a movie. I hadn't laughed so much in weeks. Kung Fu Hustle is wonderful. It's fun. It's innovative. We liked it so much that we're hoping to go see it again at the theatre. With our schedule, that says a lot.

The movie is subtitled in English, and most times I hate that, but not this time. The movie is good enough that almost from the first minute of film, I forgot about the subtitles and just enjoyed myself. It is not Trinity safe due to some violence. The violence is closer to cartoon violence, but it's still pretty strong in places. You judge your kids, but it got an R rating for violence and some situations. Frankly, I've seen some PG 13s that bothered me a lot more. Ratings can be so subjective. But if your kids are old enough, or if you have a fun date, or just a bunch of good friends run do not walk to see this movie.

The Fight is Over

Dark in my office. The sunlight won't hit my windows for hours yet this time of year. Alright cloudy, but it feels dark. By now, if you read this blog, and if you don't why are you reading this, you know that my grandmother is dead. In the normal course of this blog I would have shared the information about when it happened instead of waiting a few days. But we waited because I was not certain what that small group of over zealous fans might do with the information. We waited until we were safely back from her funeral before we posted it, so that if anyone decided to do anything odd, the event would not be marred by it.

I know that most of you who posted the message on my board a week or so ago, were sincere in your effort to help me. I thank you for it. But a few were not, or they were sincere but sincere in their obsession. Yet another stalker has been added to the list. Sigh.

I am doing well, better than expected by some. I was not aware of being sad. She had been hurting so long, sad so long, ready to go so long. To mourn her passing seemed wrong. She wasn't hurting anymore, and none of us could wish for it to be different. All tears cried were for our missing her, not for her, not really. It was Trinity's first funeral ever, and that helped me focus. I tried to be there to answer her questions, deal with her grief. For she had more regrets than I did. I lived with Granny for over twenty years, most of that time just her and me. Trinity never got to know her nearly as well. Also by the time Trin could know her, Granny wasn't Granny anymore. I wish Trin could have known her when Granny could still garden, and sit out on the porch of an evening. So much of what made her who she was had been stripped away by time and illness by the time Trin got up old enough to remember her.

When I was seventeen and my grandmother was sixty-seven she could still work me into the ground. Walk further, plow, plant, hoe, long after I was exhausted. She was this tiny concentrated force of nature. As my Aunt Bev said once, "My mother-in-law has only two speeds, fast and very fast." Truer words.

But now she's gone. Gone where she can rest for awhile. Gone where she can have answers to all her whys, and why mes. I know she is feeling better than she'd felt in decades. She has not been a big part of my life in almost twenty years. We were too much alike in some ways, both strong, both stubborn, both quick tempered. We both learned to control those tempers in everyday life, but the fire was still there below that surface of steel, and when it blew it was pretty spectacular. Two strong, independent women in one house was one too many when I got older. She'd raised me too well. Then there were the parts of me she didn't understand at all, and that was a lot.

She apologized years later for not wanting me to play Dungeons and Dragons. "Who knew it would be important to you, " she said. I did. "I'm sorry I didn't want you to read so much, I didn't think it was good for you. Who knew it would be so important to you?" I did. Those two apologies meant a great deal to me, because she rarely if ever apologized for anything big. She had pride, my grandmother, and pride is a strength. And God knows she was strong.

I gave her the summer I turned seventeen. I gave it to her as a gift. I stayed with her, socialized with almost no one else. We picked berries that year in the summer heat, thorns pricking at us. I got up at dawn a few times to drink coffee and watch the sunrise with her. She loved it. It just flat did it for her, that I would do something she knew I didn't want to do because I knew it made her happy. Besides you should see a few sunrises in your life voluntarily. They are pretty.

After that summer I began to try and plan a life as a grown-up. As the independent person she'd raised me to be. But she hadn't meant independent from her. No, that she had not meant.

I went to college at the only one that was close enough for me to drive back and forth, so I could stay at home with her. I met my first husband there. Something she hadn't planned either. Years later I realize I could have brought Prince Charming home and she'd have hated him, because he was going to take her princess away and that was not allowed. I ended up wanting to marry at the same age that my mother married my father. That lasted I think less than two years, definitely less than three, because by the time I was six months old the divorce was final. It was a pretty disastrous marriage, and I realized years later that Granny wasn't fighting to keep me from marrying, but I believe, still trying to save my mother from her fate. My marriage lasted for sixteen years. It was not disastrous. My first husband and I had some good years together, and we had a great kid. I do not regret it, though I suspect that he is probably as puzzled by me, as I am by him. Married for sixteen years, but don't know each other in total. Seems odd.

My mother died when I was six, in a car accident. She was younger than I am now by many years. My grandmother never recovered from the loss. Many of the family talked about that at her viewing and funeral. That she was never happy again, not really, after my mother died. Granny had two great loves in her life. The first, my grandfather, beat his love out of her for about twenty years. The second, my mother, died young and suddenly. Then all she had left was me. She was determined not to loose me like she had my mother. Determined to do it right this time. I spent a life time of being called by my mother's name periodically. It took me years of coming home for Christmas, after I lived out of state, to convince her that, no, black-eyed peas are not my favorite vegetable. In fact, I hate peas of all kinds. The smell of black-eyed peas makes me vaguely sick. But she would meet us at the door, proudly smiling, saying, "I've fixed your favorite vegetable." And I would say, "No, Granny, that was Susie's favorite, not mine." And she would argue with me.

I was my mother's ghost to her. But as I sit here today, I would give a great deal to have my grandmother well enough to fix me black-eyed peas and argue with me that it was my favorite vegetable. She wasn't in pain then, or frail, not like at the end. She could still argue with me, and tell me I was wrong about everything from my favorite color to my favorite food. I no longer remember what color she kept telling me was my favorite, but it was probably my mother's favorite. I'd give a great deal to be able to have that fight again. And at the same time I glad the fight is over.

A woman who was a contemperary of my mothers, and hadn't seen me since I was quite young, grasped by hand at the funeral, and called me, Susie. Not once, but four times. I was debating what to do, when she recovered herself, and said, "Of course you're not Susie, you couldn't be. Of course you're not her." I've had reactions similar to that over the years, which means, I suppose, that I must look strikingly like my mother. I've seen the pictures, and I don't see it, not to that degree, like someone is greeting a memory come to life again. Maybe if I hadn't looked so much like her, my grandmother would have had less problems confusing the two of us. Maybe.

I am tired. Tired and sad, and didn't expect to be sad. I do not mourn for her, but for me. I know she is better off, but I will miss her, damnit. Apparently, more than I thought. My rage is beginning to fall away, leaving tears behind. I was so angry yesterday I could not think. Rage to hide whatever lies underneath. Anger as a shield to keep from looking at the pain. But I've had too much therapy, am too grown-up, to stay in my rage. Damnit, damnit.

What a weekend

After the recent stuff that has gone on in the blog and the message board, we thought we should give everyone an update.

On Wednesday, around 9:00PM, Laurell's Grandmother passes away.

The funeral was yesterday, in Swayzee, IN. We saw all the family who were able to attend, and we all remembered the good times.

Before anyone sends flowers of condolence cards, we ask that instead, you make a donation to a Women's shelter in your community in her name.

In Memory of Laura Gentry
1911-2005

Thank you all for your kind thoughts and sympathies.
via mo:Blog

This and that!

Hi all! Darla once again! Just wanted to clear up a few misconceptions going around. I should have been clear from the first! My apolgies if I created any confusion.

Romantic Times is the only professional con for writers I have been too. I usually end up at fan run cons. But I have seen the same behaviour there. I have been told by others that many of the professional cons have that same problem and always with just a few folks who are less than nice. The majority are wonderful! I can prove it by experience.

Glen Cook (no relation,darn it) is a great writer, and he sells me books. He runs a booth and always has great stuff to recommend,even stuff he didn't write. Ray Bradbury always a class act. Stephen King, an incredibly nice man in person. Chelsea Quinn Yarbo, sent me a nice letter long ago when I wrote her. All the terrific authors I met at Romantic Times, some of whom I have corresponded with and it was nice to see them in person. Including the one lady I asked to sign books for me because I knew I wasn't going to get to her on Saturday. She told me she couldn't. She was sorry, but she was due at a panel and didn't want to be late. Perfectly acceptable answer! I certainly don't hold it against her. I will be mailing my books and biting my nails waiting for them to come back.

So I am PollyAnna. Or so I have been told, for not always assuming the worst. I always give it one of two explainations before I assume someone is just plain mean.

First of course that someone has had a bad day. It happens to the best of us. It has happened to me. I try not to take my bad moods out on those who didn't cause it.

Second, perhaps it is nothing more than fear and nervousness. People can be what seems quite rude, when all it is, is they are frightened and shy. Authors do tend to be notoriously shy people. I could name several but that would be rude of me. Either your comfortable being approached by strangers and talking in public or you're not. It is something that can be learned. But it takes time and some folks will never be comfortable.

Next thing on my list. The Micah story. Yes, it will be a paperback. Not because it couldn't be a hardback, but because the publishing industry is trying something new. Publishing novella's alone as paperbacks at about $4 each (the exact price has not been worked out yet). It is an experiment, and Laurell is not the only author they are planning on trying it with. For Laurell it works well because there are things she would like to have in a book but never quite has time for. A date between Anita, Jean-Claude and Asher is one she wants to do. Don't we all want to see that.

I do like anthologies. I have read some wonderful stories and found great writers through them. MaryJanice Davidson comes to mind. I love Betsy, she is a blast. Anthologies will still be a great venue for shorter works. And a way to introduce new authors or those wanting to expand their reader base.

Third, I am behind on emails. Ack! The days I spent at the con put me behind on email and orders. I am working as quickly as possible to get caught up. Please be patient and if you have questions about merchandise, membership or anything else, feel free to drop me a note. I am mostly behind on email, but all the merchandise and memberhsip stuff should go out this week at the latest. Please include your full name so I can find you easier.

Lastly, Strange Candy, the short story collection. The stories really do run the gamut. From the first Anita short story Laurell wrote to establish Anita in her own head (Anita raising a zombie) to fluffy bunny stories (no there is no fluffy bunnies in any of them), but they are lighter stories and fun, to the last, truly creepy stories that when you reach the end, you are shocked to find out the why. I do believe it was 13 stories in all but it might have been only 12. Some of them have never been published previously. Others appeared in anthologies earlier in Laurell's career and some were in magazines. I have forgotten the exact count and won't remember probably till we get the pages to edit. It really is a wide range of topics and genres. But fun none the less.

So now I shall run off and work on the emails some more. Hope everyone had a Happy Mother's Day. I know not all holidays are for all folks, but even if you have no kids, maybe a moment to think nice things about your mom or the special woman in your life.

Big smiles!

Romantic Times Con 2005

Hi all! Or I guess I could say: Hi . Whichever works for you best. This would be the Romantic Times Con Report ala Darla! Whoo hoo! I finally got it done.

I would like to publicly say thanks to a number of folks. Most of whom are not listed in any particular order. It is just how you came to mind. Which should be very frightening to most of them. :)

Thank you's to:
Lady Katherine (congratulations on the engagement, we wish you both years of happiness) and the staff of Romantic Times for choosing St. Louis for the 2005 convention. It was an amazing convention. Hopefully, at some future date we will again get to attend. Sorry the weather wasn’t nicer! It is usually dry and warm this time of year. Not quite sure why it wasn’t this year. Still it has lead to some spectacular flowers.

Heather Graham who puts on a stunning ball. It was my first.

Jo Carol and her group for all the hard work you put in and lugging around so many books! The signing was great. All your effort really showed.

Rosemary Potter and Elle of Rosemary’s Romance Books in Australia and all the other Aussie fans who treked so far to come. A special thanks to Anita who relieved me of those boxes. It was fun meeting you all and the Tim Tam is good! The party with you was a definite blast! I am having to fight off family and friends for my goodies gift bag.

Pat Simmons for setting up the interviews here in St. Louis. Never an easy job but much appreciated.

All the volunteers who pitched in to make things run smoother! Especially Jodi Israel for pointing me in the right direction more than once.

Merrille Heifetz, it was so good to see you again! Thanks for dinner too.

Rachel, Florrie, Ann, Kris, Talia Gryphon, and the ladies of Hell’s Belles for dinner and assistance above and beyond the call! I will get that boys shirt done for you soon too. It is on my to-do list. How wicked can I get with the design? LOL!

Rett MacPherson for coming despite her own hectic schedule and pitching in wherever she could. You really did look lovely in that medieval gown. I hope the folks who picked up your book enjoy them half as much as I do.

Sharon Shinn for helping me get my headpiece on straight. Unfortunately it wouldn’t stay! Knock out dress you were wearing Sharon to the dance.

Susan, Harley and Pat McBride for the lovely dinner at your home and sharing your recipes. They will be much enjoyed!

Robin Shoene, Melissa McNeal, Cheyenne McCray, Dianne Moggy and Angela Knight (who I got to see more than once) for the fun panel on Erotic Boundaries. Nice to know there aren’t any. J Just kidding!

Rosemary Laurey, Heather Graham, Angela Knight, Elaine Moore and LA Banks for the panel on Creatures of the Night. Quite entertaining ladies! Leslie it was great to finally meet you in person!

Pam McCutcheon, Sherilyn Kenyon, Christine Feehan and Beth de Guzman for the Demon, Werewolves And Shapeshifters panel. It was fascinating hearing how you create your worlds.

Charlaine Harris, Christine Feehan and MaryJanice Davidson. I talk to you so much sometimes it is like I should know you better! It was nice to finally meet you! Good luck on tour Charlaine!

Sherilyn Kenyon and her “Darla” – Janet. It was fun spending time with you both. Some day Janet I hope to see your Sherilyn shrine. I will show you my Laurell one. :)

Yes, it became the running joke of the con that my name has now become an all-purpose noun for assistants. Guess that is better than Girl Friday. Still I am quite flattered. I do believe Susan McBride was the one who started it.

Cathy Clamp and Cie Adams, so sorry for missing lunch and then breakfast. It is nice to now have a faces to put with your names. Thanks so much for the lovely box. It has a place of honor on my dresser. Maybe next time we will get to sit and chat. Or in my case, yak.

Our “friend” Charles: for providing assistance and doing his best to keep up all in line. Must be like herding ducks. LOL! Enjoy your turbo charger. And thanks to you and Jon both for helping lace me into that medieval dress. Else I would have had to wander the halls asking someone to tie me in, not the kind of thing I should be doing I don’t think.

Sonny for the lovely slippers. Perfect for lounging and reading. How you knew I was always cold is beyond me. Love the color too!

The young lady who gave me the silver ear cuff. I lost my note with your name. So sorry. It is nifty. I just need to remember to take it off before going to bed. :)

Good luck to you Lori Armstrong and your debut novel Blood Ties. Hope it hits big!

Annette Batista you will be hearing from me as soon as I figure out what I want!

All the authors who made a point of attending. I did pick up some books and am looking to many happy hours of reading and finding new authors I can enjoy.

The gentleman who ran and found a microphone for the panel that was so packed. Sorry to all those who couldn’t manage to squeeze into the rooms. We hope you made a later or different panel.

A really big thank you to all the fans who stopped by to just say hi, get a book signed or chat. I have notes from some of you and am looking for what you asked me for. Penelope still looking for a copy of the book on audio for you. I know it is here somewhere! Don’t ask what my office looks like. J

That’s it for the thank yous! If I missed someone, I am sorry! Feel free to email me.

I did manage to persuade a couple of folks to be guest authors in future newsletters. So we should have some real fun hearing from them.



I hate to close this out on a more down note, as it was so wonderful. But I feel compelled to say something to a miniscule group of authors who were present. And an apology to one cover model.

There are two kinds of cons. Fan run (which is just what it sounds like) and professional cons, run by the industry or its insiders, so to speak. Romantic Times is a professional con. As such you should really watch your own conduct at such events. Do not do anything you wouldn’t want to explain to your own mother. Rude behavior, general nastiness and being plain mean for no reason are no-no’s.

I am speaking of two incidents that I will address because I happen to know the folks who told me were present and trustworthy.

The first involved an established author and a group of less well-known authors. (No Laurell wasn’t present.) Ladies, if you are going to sit in a public area and trash other authors you really should make sure there is no one near to hear you. Especially one of the people you are trashing. The established author in question was at the next table with a group of fans. I applaud her for her tact of doing no more than standing up and offering you the opportunity to say what you thought directly to her. She is definitely a class act and one you should work at emulating. An apology would have been a good thing to offer at the point. Slinking off silently was the second choice. Which is what you did.

I won’t repeat the entire incident that led up to the second. I will give the last part of the comment that was made to one of the male cover models. “You should go stand in the corner and look pretty. That is what you are here for.”

Sexism is never a nice thing, even when the roles are reversed. Worse to me, is this author was rude when he was doing her a kindness and trying to help. She had only to say thank you and walk away. Being rude and nasty did not earn her any fans.

To the cover model whose name I know but will not list. Please accept our apologies for her rudeness. All of us do not look down on cover models. All of you did a fantastic job and were quite nice. Hopefully, someday you will be a big enough name to refuse to be on "Ms. Nastiness’ " books. Heck yes I can be petty. I like to think of it as just desserts for her unconscionable rudeness, at least until she apologies to you. I have never heard of her before. If her writing is no better than her manners, there may be a reason for that.

Why is this all so important? Authors are very dependent on word of mouth for sales. It will do more for you than all the publicity the publishers buy. Ask Dan Brown about how well DaVinci Code did just on word of mouth only.

When you are less than polite publicly, it will get circulated. Rock stars, sports figures and some movie stars may get away with being asses. To some extent that goes along with the public persona of those professions. Why I do not know, but it does. Personally, it just makes me think badly of them and wonder if I want to support them by buying. But maybe that is just me. It seems in the last few years that most of the jokes and stuff have become more an issue of being rude and nasty than funny. Unless you think that sort of thing is funny, which I don’t, nor do I understand it. Hateful is never amusing. So I am probably in the minority on this one, and okay with it.

As an author, you really don’t want your name bandied about as someone who is so not professional. Your behavior should reflect your level of professionalism, most especially at a professional convention. I know I will not buy books of people I do not like after having met them. I do often give someone two chances though. I will give you a second because maybe you have had an off day, upsetting news, or are just really tired. Heck, we all have our off moments. But you should really work at making sure you put your best foot forward and it is never too late to apologize should you have not done so. If you cannot manage, then retreating to a quiet place and gathering yourself is perfect! It is okay, to simply say "Excuse me, I have to go and will be back later." in order to do so, if necessary.

Lastly, you should so be wary of stepping on toes on your way up, because if you come back down at some point, these same people will remember you for what you said and did and it may come back to haunt you.

So that is my happy con report and rant. :)

Darla

For one about to ship out...

Some time back I mentioned a young man that Jonathon and I met on tour. He asked, his family asked, and I ended up agreeing to sign his chest. It was a first. He had stood in line for hours to help his aunt, I believe, carry books. (The number of books I can sign per person is limited to save my arm. Many people bring family and friends to be book carriers.) When he got up to the head of the line he wanted something signed and didn't have a book, so, we found something to sign.

I met his aunt, I'm almost a hundred percent certain that it was his aunt, anyway, his female relative, this last weekend at the RT Convention. She informed me that he is almost through basic and will ship out to Iraq soon. I am purposefully not mentioning his name or even his home town, because I do not want to have him ship to Iraq and be tagged as the guy who had Laurell K. Hamilton sign his chest. It lacks a certain dignity, and teasing can get a little much when time is slow, danger high, and boredom always present. But I just wanted to say here, be careful out there. Keep your head down, watch your back, watch everyone else's, and come back safe. Michael guard and keep you. Michael who, you ask, why the Archangel Michael. He watches over soldiers and police, and all who risk their life to keep others safe. Thanks to the movie THE UNTOUCHABLES with Kevin Costner, there are those out there that believe that the patron saint of police work is the patron saint of lost causes, I believe they attribute this dubious honor to Saint Jude (if I take the time to go back through the movie to find it for certain this will never get posted.) First St. Jude is the patron saint to be invoked in desperate straits, not lost causes. Second of all police work, military work, is far from a lost cause. It is hard work, dangerous work, discouraging work, but that does not make it a lost cause. The whole saint sequence was great film making, but for real it's St. Michael, and he doesn't do lost causes.

He is the angel of the battle field. And since he's mentioned in both the Koran and the Bible, he must be a very busy angel indeed.

But to the young man in question who's about to ship out, I say this, bring back your chest in one piece and I'll sign it again.

A personal trainer

Hi all! Darla again!

Since Laurell has been talking about the personal trainer, Keath from Shark Fitness, who comes and makes us exercise, yes me too! We have been asked about how to find someone who is good at doing this. We got lucky, I will admit that. I saw the ad for Keath and we had him in for an interview and really liked him. We did not want to hop on the latest fitness craze. Those come and go almost as fast as the fad diets which do not work for everyone no matter what the ads tell you. Keath has been perfect for us. A good strong movtivator, knowledgeable about what he does, he varies it so we don't get bored and he listens to us whine without strangling one of us, at least so far.

I will tell you we are not easy to get going. So it has been a tough job for him. Especially me, I am not giving up chocolate, ever. But I have cut back so he does compromise with me.

Since I couldn't really answer the question about what someone should look for themselves, I asked Keath what should someone look for when they start a search for their own trainer, especially since most of you do not live in St. Louis and cannot avail yourself of Keath's most excellent services. So here is what he put together as to what you should look for on your own personal quest. Thanks Keath!

Darla

CHOOSING A FITNESS TRAINER
How do I choose a good fitness trainer? Start by checking their training and experience. The fitness industry is growing rapidly and many are jumping on the bandwagon. Trainers are required to be certified, but there are a number of associations that make getting certified very easy. Insert quarters, turn the dial and write your name on the certificate. Research the associations they are certified from to learn what the process and requirements are. Next, ask yourself if they practice what they preach. What kind of credibility do they have if they eat fast food and look like they haven't left the couch except change channels? Don't you want someone who knows about being motivated and disciplined first hand? Watch them exercise if possible. If they don't use proper form and technique or spend time admiring themselves in the mirror, how can they teach clients to exercise correctly? Lastly, interview the potential trainer. Do you feel comfortable and confident that the trainer has the ability to communicate important ideas and concepts to you?

Keep in mind that the best trainers are normally found outside of the large national chains of gyms. The trainers found there are mostly newly certified and are trying to gain experience or are not successful enough to make it privately. The gym chains are notorious for being high pressure sales jobs that encourage trainers to watch the time spent with clients in order to have more opportunity to sell packages or memberships. Most of those facilities keep 50-60% of the fees that are charged to the client which does not attract accomplished and experienced trainers. They are far more concerned with profits than providing professional, effective services. Professional fitness training requires a trust between both trainer and client. You have every right and reason to be selective. Your health is too important to just trust anyone.

Onward and upward

Hi, everyone. My friend's child is out of the hospital. With care and medication he'll be fine. Again, no details because I forgot to ask her permission. But since I mentioned it here, I just wanted to let everyone who was wondering how it turned out, that it's okay. Not perfect, but okay. And there are days when okay is a lot better than the alternatives.

My kiddo is on the bus, and off to school. A new day dawns, sunny, a little cool, but fresh and ready to go. Last night instead of reading for a few minutes before bed (Jon and I are between books that we're reading to eachother) I went next door to my office and edited. I'm editing the Micah Novel-light. For those who don't know the term novel-light was coined by Jon when the novella I was writing became too long for a novella, but not long enough for one of my novels. Novel-light all the adventure, half the chapters. Even the contract states a small novel, as if the contract people weren't sure what to call it either. It will be sold as a stand alone book, with a lower than paperback price because it's smaller than paperback size. Something like that, anyway. It's coming out in February of 2006. It's a brand new Anita adventure with her going out of town to raise a federal witness for the F. B. I. that died of natural causes before he could give testimony. But since the arduer is not completely under wraps, she needs an "assistant". Micah goes with her. We learn more of his background. How he became a shapeshifter. Some about his family.

Micah has been somewhat a mystery man, I think because he came in after there were already so many other people in Anita's life. Also by limiting the main cast it was more like some of the earlier Anita books, leaner, tighter. Though some of you who have not liked the sexual content will not be happy because there's sex. One scene with Micah and Anita. It's a really good sex, if I do say so myself.

I'm hoping to do novel-lights with most of the men in Anita's life. There are so many ideas I have that just never seem to fit into a full length novel. I want to do a Sunday dinner with Richard's family, and see how his mother and brother are doing. And meet the rest of his family finally. I want that double date with Jean-Claude and Asher and Anita. I want Nathaniel to have the holiday he never had as a child. There are other ideas, but some of them may actually be full novel length.

Doing the novel-light renewed my joy in my work. Partly it was the leaner story line, but also it was something I just wanted to write, not that I had to write because I'd signed a contract. I can't remember the last time I wrote something before the contract came. But also it was a way to do some of the ideas that are too small or too something for the main books. I mean I want to have Mrs. Pringle need Anita to doggie-sit Custard. I have this entire folder of Anita ideas that I'd been wanting to work into books for ages, and there's never room. The novel-lights will give me a way to do that. I'm even toying with the idea that when Merry finally gets everyone back to L. A. in about three books, we might try to do some with her and one guy at a time in a more detective setting. That would be cool.

But last night instead of reading to relax I edited the Micah piece. I put on my tape of nature sounds, and edited. It was very peaceful sitting in the dark of the office with only two small lamps on, surrounded by the sound of birds singing in the dark. Very soothing. When I lived in Los Angeles there was a mockingbird that would sing outside our window every night. It was always wonderful to fall asleep to. So I went to bed relaxed with the major editing done. I just need to go in and clean up a few things, and chase down a paragraph that I remember writing, but can't seem to find on any hard copy version of the piece.

May your day be peaceful, productive, and enjoyable.

And the flags go up

I wasn't going to post this blog. It's one I wrote back in February when Jon and I first realized how mean some people had gotten on the guestbook on the blog. But today when I read over the blog entries that Darla and Jon had made I accidently went back a screen or two and saw some of the messages on the board. Shame on the handful of nasty, jealous, individuals. We don't owe anyone an apology for anything we've done. But I'm loosing track of the apologies that people might owe us. Yes, my grandmother is dying, but not because of a second stroke. And the change since her 94th birthday is not that great a change, unfortunately. She has been ill for a very long time. Do I really have to say that I'm aware my grandmother is dying to strangers. Yes, you are fans, readers, but you don't know me personally. Do I really have to share details of my life that only my friends deserve to know to keep some of you from being cruel? I went up four weeks ago with my husband, and daughter to say good-bye to the woman who raised me. I wanted Trinity to see her before it got too bad. She did. We did. There was no Hallmark moment. I did not expect one. But we went, we said good-bye, and I knew the news would eventually be bad. Or good, she is in so much pain now. You don't want to loose them, but you understand that they are tired of hurting.

Is this what some of you want, my pain? Not happy that I don't share my innermost torment? Books not enough? Blog not enough? 99 percent of my fans are some of the nicest, niftiest people on the face of the planet, but to that other 1 percent I say this. No I won't say it. I have deleted several choice things here. But I won't say them, because maybe that is what the nasty-minded noisy 1 percent want. They want me to be as mean-spirited, cruel, and rude as they are. Well, not today. Maybe that small ugly percentage will wear me down and I will finally loose my temper publicly. I hope not. But today I am a grown-up, who was raised by a strong woman who taught me that you are polite to strangers. That you are nice to people if they will let you be. That was the way I was raised and that is the way I will behave.

What follows is the rest of the post I wrote some months ago. Enjoy, I guess.

Darla and Jon tell me that I really don't want, or need, to read some of the posts that have prompted Jon to think the guest book has out-lived its usefulness. There was a time, not so long ago, that I would have insisted. I would have read all the crabbiness, but I've grown up since then, or maybe I'm just tired. I'll vote for tired.

Jon is going to put up a link to the moderated board. Apparently, some of you guys that were unhappy because the moderators of the main board were not allowing you to call names and say cruel things, decided to come over to the blog. The guest book was unmoderated. It was a place where you could speak, and maybe, just maybe, I might see it. I never get on the board. But a few of you, a small, but vocal minority, have forgotten that the guest book was a privaledge not a right. So, like any privaledge that gets abused, it goes away.

Now, some of you are going to say, she just can't take criticism. That Jon and Darla are keeping me away from the fans that would tell me the truth and bring the series back to where you want it to be. You, the vocal minority, started complaining to me, and Jon, on the tour for Narcissus in Chains. You complained that there was too much sex, and that she shouldn't have dumped Richard. You guys actually made me doubt so much I went back and reread the scene. Anita didn't dump Richard, he dumped her, for being more comfortable with the monsters than he was. So the most vocal, the most cruel, those that called other fans that didn't agree with you names, most of you that have been the least well-mannered have wanted the same things. One, you wanted less sex in the books. Two, you wanted Richard to win. You differed on other stuff, but that was your main desires.

Cerulean Sins was the next book, then Incubus Dreams. Did you, of the vocal minority, notice a trend in these books? Richard was almost non-existent in CS, and I had to fight with my subconscious to get him into ID. And the sexual content? Is it going up or down? I think up, definitely up.

I did not do it on purpose, it wasn't in the front of my head, but my subconscious has always been contrary. You tell me I can't do something, or shouldn't do it, or try to force your preferences on me, and I have to really fight not to do just the opposite of what you want me to do. It wasn't until somewhere near the end of Incubus that I realized all your complaints both hearing about them third hand, and in person on tour was effecting me in the way I just described. I can't stop doing something if I don't realize why I'm doing it. Now I do, but you know what, I'm going to have to take a nod from Ms. Rowling. She said in an interview that nothing anyone says, or wants, will change a single word she's writing in her wonderful series. Well, folks, guess what, me either.

But unlike Ms. Rowling, you are having an effect on me, one I keep fighting against. A very negative one. You tell me that there's too much sex, and part of me thinks, you ain't seen nothing yet. You advocate Richard, and it makes it hard to write him as a character, because every time I deal with him, I hear the ugly echoes in my head of you.

You are allowed to express your unhappiness, but politely. Not just to me, but to other fans. For all of you who have been complaining, and not just the vocal minority, here are some examples of things that can be said in moderated space:

I would like more mystery and less interpersonal relationships in the next book. (Me, too.) I would like Anita to end up with Jean-Claude. I would like Anita to end up with Asher and Jean-Claude. I would like Anita to end up with Micah. I would like Anita to end up with Nathaniel. I would like Anita to end up with Richard. I would like Anita to end up with Nathaniel and Micah. I would like Anita to not choose and keep everybody. I'm a Damian fan, why can't she pick him? (A variant of that.) I'd like to see more sex with Damian. I'd like to see more sex with Asher. I'd like to see more of Asher on stage, period. I'd like to see more Jean-Claude. When is Jason going to take one for the team again? I would like to see (insert character name) do more of (insert activity) with Anita. Oh, and some would like Asher and Jean-Claude to be a couple so that Anita and Richard could be a couple. There's even the, Ronnie and Anita should be a couple contingent. We'd like to see Anita do her job more. (Me, too.) More police action please. More with Marianne and Verne's pack. More vampire politics. More furry politics. More zombies please. When are we going to see Willie and Angel-fangs again? More Edward, please. When will Olaf come back?

I've covered most of the different complaints, though not all. I've left out the personal attacks on me and my husband. I've left out the fans that wanted me to kill Micah, and have Anita pin his leopard hide to her wall. (I am not making that up. A fan asked, and meant it.) The last few are just mean, folks.

But seeing the previous list, tell me how am I to please everyone? There is no way, so I shall please myself, because in the end if you don't please yourself, then what is left to you?

You are all allowed to disagree with the direction the series has taken, or who Anita is dating, or sleeping with. Feel free, but be nice about it. You can say the same thing but in a polite manner and it won't be deleted. It won't be censored. But the moderators on the board do not allow personal verbal assaults on other fans, or on me, or even the moderators. Be nice, or play somewhere else.

The arduer is a major metaphysical ability, and curse/blessing. It cannot be brought into the series and then fixed just like that. Anything this powerful should have consequences, and a learning curve. I've always planned on Anita getting to the point where she can control the arduer and not have to have sex every few hours. (And already I hear some fans complaining that I'll be cutting the sex down. We actually have vastly more people who love the higher sexual content than hate it. They just don't get mean about it, so they don't get as much press. And by the way, as the sexual content has gone up, so have the sales of the book. I didn't plan it that way, but it's worked out that way.) I'd always planned on the arduer being controllable so Anita can go out of town as a federal marshal. The arduer traps her here in St. Louis, unless she takes a harem for food. You can't do police work that way, not out of town. So, have patience, and it will calm down. I honestly don't know where her domestic arrangement will go. I didn't plan on us being where we are. Anita is more contrary than I am, and every time I push one person over another, she digs her feet in and does the opposite of what I had planned. A trait we share, for good, or ill.

But I will not rush the transition. I will not hurry my overall plot because some of you are not happy with it. I am sorry you seem so unhappy. If you are truly that unhappy with the direction the series has taken, then stop reading it. Stop reading what I write. There, simply, fixed. If you don't like it, don't buy it, don't read it.

If I was as rude and nasty to my fans as a few of them have been to me and to my husband, you would be screaming about it. And you'd have a right to complain. Let me clue you, all of you, just because a person is a celebrity, in a small way or large, they are still people. If you wouldn't be this nasty to your friend, or neighbor, then why do you get to be that nasty to someone just because they write a book, or acted in a movie, or sang a song. Does being an artist mean that common decency no longer applies?

As for those who claim I'm in an ivory tower, well it's my tower, and if I want not to listen to people call me names, or speculate on my sex life with my husband, then I'm entitled not to listen. All of you complaining that I isolate myself from what you believe to be the truth, remember that you aren't right. Your opinion is just your opinion, not right, not wrong, just your opinion You are entitled to it. As I am entitled to mine. It's a free country, last I checked, and that means we are all entitled to our opinions. But being entitled to an opinion doesn't make you right.

The Hoax

Hi all! Tis me, Darla. To all those who have emailed let me reassure you, we aren't blaming anyone yet! Those who took what sounded like a legitimate attempt to contact Laurell about her grandmother are not to blame. In fact, we thank all of you! You were attempting to do a decent and kind thing. The fact that it was a malicious lie is in no being held against you. Really! We will not go off half-cocked before we have facts and proof.

We are after the source of this. The person who started it all, knowing full well it wasn't true. It was meant simply to cause Laurell pain and heartache. Why anyone would be this low is simply beyond me. There is no earthly reason for anyone to be so cowardly and sneaky. I can only assume it was someone who is totally heartless and they have my sympathy more than my anger. I cannot imagine being such a sadistic, shallow twit that they thought this was amusing. It isn't funny. It is however a very sad statement on who they are.

So those who were doing a decent and caring thing, your better than a-okay in our opinion. We think quite highly of those who tried to do the right thing. It gives you a sense of faith in people, that so many were so sweet. So please don't fret about it. Your kindness will not get you into trouble. Nor should it.


To those who have taken me to task for not informing Laurell immediately, let me add to the facts you know.

It is true I didn't attend the lunch. Not that I dislike the book sellers, heck I use to be one myself. I really like my favorite bookseller, chiefly because she often points me towards really good books because she knows what I like. I used that free time to visit with friends I hadn't seen in two years who were also at the con. It was my first chance to sit and just say hi and catch up on stuff. I was afraid I wouldn't get more of a chance to visit with some of them as there was so many things to do!


When I tried to check into the hotel, they kept telling me my room wasn't ready. So I kept having to go off and do other things, then come back later to check yet again. The reason it took me so long to get that message to Laurell was two fold.

First, I had just stepped into the room, bell hop and luggage in tow when the phone started to ring. I did immediately answer it assuming it was for the previous occupant. I was surprised by the call as anyone would be. That took me about two minutes to get the message and thank the caller. Then I had to wait while the bellhop unloaded my luggage and got his cart out of the room. I checked the time, because I wasn't sure where Laurell would be. I thought the luncheon was still likely but it was so close to the end time that I didn't know whether to check her room, or hope they were running long and she would still be there. Nor did I want to call her cell phone for two reasons, one this is not the kind of thing I wanted to tell her over the phone and two I wasn't sure she hadn't turned her phone off for the duration of the banquet. Laurell is always mindful of others around her and it is extremely annoying to have a phone go off in the middle of a presentation. Ever been at a movie and a phone rings in the audience? It is just plain rude not to make sure it doesn't happen. Yes, I know, mine went off during a panel. I forgot to turn down the ringer. I apologize again for that one.

Second, I was 27 floors away from Laurell as she was in the lower level of the hotel giving a speech. Anyone who stayed there knows getting an elevator was a chore. It seemed it stopped at every floor on the way down in addition to being incredibly slow. While I had a fairly good idea of where she would be, I wasn't positive and it took me a couple of minutes to pin down her location. In fact, I passed her twice without realizing I had done so. When I finally located Laurell, she was in an interview. I signaled to her I needed to talk to her ASAP. But I wasn't going to barge up to her and dump this news on her while she was in conversation with a reporter. That too would be really rude.

I then told Jon about the message. He checked voice mail for their phone. Extremely strange was there was nothing on their phone at all from any relative. By then Laurell was done and free to talk to me. It was then that I got an opportunity to tell Laurell when she about the message. All in all, about thirty minutes from the time I got the call to when I could tell her.

I was not making an arbitrary judgement to keep the info from her. Had that been my intent, she wouldn't have gotten the message until Sunday night, not Friday afternoon. I wouldn't do that to someone I dislike, much less a someone I call my friend. I am not like that.

So my next post, will be about the con. I have a slew of folks I want to say thank you to for this and that. Folks I just want to say hi to again. It was great seeing so many people! But I will save all that for a single post, not this little rant of mine now.

Darla

Update

OK, we now have a bit more info on Laurell's Gran.

No asperations are to be cast by anyone, at anyone. got it?

It seems that what was a well meaning attempt to contact us went from well meaning to a surrealistic version of that old party game, "Telegraph". you know the one where you have a message that travels from the begining of a line of people to the end, but no matter how hard you try, at the end, the message is at best slightly garbled, and at worst, F*cked beyond all comparison.

Well.... This weekend, we were on the end of a message that leanded a bit more to the latter than the former.

As it stands right now. There is no harm, no foul.

But if we find out that someone intenionally garbled the message....
I think the picture is clear enough.

Don't you?

My grandmother did not have a second stroke

I have just gotten off the phone from my family. My grandmother did not have a second stroke. As was reported all over my message board. The person who phoned Darla to try and make her get me out of the luncheon where I was to give a speech because my family was frantically trying to get me because my grandmother was dying, was lying. Darla, of course, refused to drag me out, because true or not, thirty minutes wouldn't make that much difference for a six and a half hour drive, or a two hour flight and a two hour drive. She did give me the message, and I had Jon check our home phone messages for the calls I assumed my family would have left before trying to contact me at the convention. There were no messages. Odd. There were no messages because it wasn't true.

How terribly cruel of someone. I have no words to convey how heartless and evil this was. No words will do it justice. You know who you are, and what you did. Shame on you. And if you feel no shame for having done this, then there is no help for you. No balm or prayer will heal the emptiness and envy and hatred that drove you to do this. Being who you are, and that bitter, is almost punishment enough. But we are actively pursuing leads to find out who did this. Because it is not to be tolerated. If I can prosecute you legally, I will.

I have had some awful things done to me and about me by fans, and the envious, but this is a new low.

Home from RT

It was so good to sleep in our own bed last night. The hotel room was either freezing or sweltering. No matter what we did to the thermostat we never did get a comfy temperature out of it. So our own bed with our own comfy temp was very nice indeed.

The Romantic Times Convention was like no other convention I've ever been to. I guess the closest analogy might be Dragon Con but with more writer's workshops and male cover models lounging about everywhere. And not nearly as many cool hallway costumes. But the near frantic, and sometimes claustrophobic atmosphere of events, media, and just constant demands on the senses was similar. It was fun, it was exhausting. I was reminded again that no other group of writers self-promotes like romance writers. They are still 50 percent of the fiction buying audience, down from a high in the 70s or 80s of 80 percent. It's still the highest buying percentage of any single area of fiction interest. Some people say the romance writers self-promote to be noticed in such a packed field. Or maybe they have such a large market share partially because of the self-promotion. I think so.

I self-promote more than any other science fiction and fantasy writer I know. Yes, I am romance as well, now, and mystery, and even political thriller, but I still began as science fiction, fantasy, and horror. So, I promote more than any other writer, that I'm aware of, in those fields. I believe strongly that some of my success, not all, but some is due to that self-promotion. I wish I could take some of the things I see at the romance cons and get some of the other genres to do them to promote their work. In a time of ever tightening belts in publishing, a little self-promotion is a good thing. I think this is especially important at the beginning of a career when your publisher doesn't really do much to promote you as a writer.

Jon or I will write more later about some of the stuff we did at the con, but for now, I'm off, to get the kiddo on the bus.