Dinosaurs, Anyone?

We're delighted to have a friend of the Playground back with us today. He's quite the Renaissance man in both his private and professional lives and is sharing about his latest release, which is quite a departure from his previous works. He'll explain the how and why below. We're having a cold snap here. Oh heck, who am I kidding. It's freaking freezing! So we've built a roaring fire to warm the place up for you and our special guest Homer Hickam.



After Red Helmet, my romantic coal country novel written for Thomas Nelson, and My Dream of Stars, the memoir I co-wrote with Anousheh Ansari for Palgrave-McMillan, I was itching for a change of pace in my writing. Publishers, of course, hate this. They like to pigeonhole their authors in specific genres because that's the easiest way to market them. When you see a book by John Grisham, Dan Brown, James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell, and so forth, you can be pretty sure what you're going to get. A quick check of my backlist, however, and you see nonfiction military history, memoirs, techno-thrillers, historical fiction, self-help, and romantic fiction. This is a failing in marketing but I have to follow my heart where it leads.

My next book was one I had agreed to write for the Thomas Dunne imprint of St. Martin's Press. I'd already written for them the rough and tumble series that included The Keeper's Son, The Ambassador's Son, and The Far Reaches about Josh Thurlow, a hard-drinking, womanizing fellow who is slowly going mad in the South Pacific of World War II. Actually, I consider these three novels to be my most literary works and underappreciated. They delve deeply into the hearts and souls of men and women thrust into the crucible of war. They are Heart of Darkness times three. Sometimes Josh and his compatriots make my readers cry, sometimes they make them laugh, but they are always interesting. These novels have sold well enough but I still consider them undiscovered gems that may resurface after I'm gone to that great bookstore in the sky. To the astonishment, amazement, and delight of American Literature professors of the future, I think these novels will remake my reputation. Well, we like to dream.

Anyway, I get passionate about things. It's just the way I am. For the last dozen years, my most passionate sideline has been hunting dinosaur bones in Montana and I'm pretty good at it, having found two Tyrannosaurs out of the 38 ever found. This began honestly enough when Joe Johnston, the director of October Sky (based on my memoir Rocket Boys otherwise known as Homer's little annuity), was hired to direct Jurassic Park III. Joe was going into the field to research the script so I tagged along with him into the bone-rich ranchlands of eastern Montana. Once there, three things happened: I fell in love with hunting ancient bones, I fell in love with the Montana ranchlands, and, most importantly, I fell in love with the people who live there.

Not counting their pickup trucks and 4-wheelers, the people who live in those rugged badlands and ranchlands live the pioneer life of the 19th Century. Their lives revolve around their families, their land, and their cows (not cattle - call them that and they know you're an outsider). Garfield County, their home, is the size of Connecticut which has around 3.5 million people. The population of the county, however, is less than 1000. Their nearest neighbors are generally 30-40 miles away. What they do is raise cows while being fiercely protective of their property. I liked them immediately but it took a while to be accepted. I am dogged, however, and after a few years in search of the elusive and wily dinos, the cowboys and cowgirls of Garfield County gradually became my friends. Good researcher that I am, I began to peel back their lives, their loves, and their secrets. And, of course, I wanted to write about them.

But how to write about these marvelous folks? I briefly considered a memoir, telling in a humorous way my sometimes bumbling, sometimes successful attempts to discover dinosaurs while also becoming a friend of these isolated ranch folks. This was tempting as my memoirs always sell very well but, after giving it some thought, I decided nonfiction would be considered too intrusive by my new Montana friends. I therefore decided to write about them in a fictional genre I hadn't yet touched: Mystery. My editor at St. Martin's gave my idea the go-ahead and I set about it.

All my other novels have been written in third person and that was the way I began the novel that would become The Dinosaur Hunter. But as I got into it, one of my minor characters kind of sat up and started talking. His name was Mike Wire and he was the top hand at the Square C Ranch owned by Jeanette Coulter, a dour, spunky widow, and Ray, her teenage son. Against all reason, Mike was in love with Jeanette, an affection that was decidedly not returned. I woke up one morning and threw the hundred pages I'd written away and just let Mike tell the story. And did he ever! I learned, to my surprise, that he was a former Los Angeles Police Department homicide detective who'd also worked as a private eye for Hollywood. Retired by a gunshot to the stomach and disgust with the film industry, Mike had escaped to Montana to pine over Jeanette and look after Ray and the people of that land he had come to love. Enter a young paleontologist by the appropriate name of Dr. "Pick" Pickford, and his two lovely female dinosaur diggers, and the story gets going. Murder and mayhem ensue, not to mention what has been called one of the most unusual and oddly erotic romantic moments in a cow barn yet written in a popular novel.

Happily, my foray into the mystery genre has worked as The Dinosaur Hunter, out on Nov. 9, 2010, is selling very well. It has even been picked up by The Mystery Guild Book club as one of their alternate selections! To my surprise, it's been included into yet another popular genre, the western. In fact, it's been one of the top western best-sellers on Amazon for weeks! Holy Larry McMurtry! Carolyn See, the always tough reviewer for The Washington Post, loved the novel but thought it was one for the guys more than the gals. Based on my correspondence, I don't think that's so if, for no other reason, that
passionate, odd, peculiar, and somewhat scatological romantic scene in the barn already mentioned. And if that's not enough to get you to read The Dinosaur Hunter (or get it as a gift for that special reader), I guess I've missed my calling.


Oooooooooookay. I received a couple of book store gift cards and I'm pretty darned sure how I'm going to use them now. ;-)

Leave a comment and tell us where your heart leads you. One commenter will win a copy of The Dinosaur Hunter. Lucky you, whoever you are.

Guest Blogger - Christie Ridgway

Wine. Weddings. Romance. It only takes those three words to describe my new trilogy. Of course I came up with a premise using a few more of them: One failing winery, two feuding families, three unforgettable pairings. And the first book of the three, CRUSH ON YOU, is out this month.

Alessandra Baci is the youngest of three sisters and is known affectionately around her town as the "Nun of Napa," after a wedding-that-didn't-happen five years before. She's concocted a new revenue stream for the 100-year-old family winery...offering it as a wedding venue. But with the first event scheduled for the end of the month, she's desperate to get the construction finished on the historic cottage where the nuptials will be held. When her contractor runs out on her, she's forced to turn to the man-next-door, Penn Bennett, who is the star of Hollywood's hottest home renovation TV show. Though they rub each other the wrong way--mostly because they want to rub each other the right way too much--Penn agrees if she'll be the second in a two-person crew. Oh, that creates opportunities to get to know each other and to get close...close enough for these too wary people to fall in love.

This is romance without guns or fangs or a historical backdrop. But there are family legends, a missing treasure, and most of all, the unfolding story of two engaging people falling in love. I've had a blast doing research (drinking wine! Watching movies like Bottle Shock! Spending a long weekend with my husband exploring Napa!) but imagining the winery weddings has been the most fun of all. I've been asking everyone their fantasy wedding--mine is barefoot on the beach in a flowing dress.

Yours? A lucky commenter will win a duo of Christie Ridgway books.

You can learn more about Christie at her website and also follow her at Riding with the Top Down where she blogs with nine other fabulous authors.

Would You Rather...?

This weekend is Valentine's Day. I would think this was obvious given the stores are overrun with pink and red crap. And yet, as I stood amongst the throngs of people trying to select a card for DB, a man came up next to me and said "When is Valentine's Day?"

Sigh. "Sunday," I told him. He went into a panic and immediately started grasping at cards. His wife should thank me.

You know, Valentine's Day is the same day every year. It doesn't change like Thanksgiving or President's Day. Its pretty easy to keep up with. And yet it sneaks up on men every year. I used to work at Hallmark in high school. We'd have Valentine's stuff out December 27th, but the men would show up on Valentine's Day after work, like clockwork. We were always prepared with inflated balloons and pre-assembled gift bags and ribbon for them to buy in a rush. And would they! Prices they would normally scoff at - like the $50 3-lb heart box of Russell Stovers candy that no one had touched since we put them on the shelves. Sold out by 5:30. You could taste the desperation in the air as they rushed into the store, completely caught off guard by the sudden onset of the holiday they dread.

And they do dread it. They must. DB grumbles at every stupid, sappy jewelry commercial on television. They have all this pressure to deliver some grand romantic gesture. The same pressure doesn't really fall on women. The truth of the matter is that instead of overpriced roses and jewelry I'll rarely wear on some random day in February, I'd prefer a year of helping me keep the house clean, unloading the dishwasher, rubbing my shoulders when I've had a long day or maybe offering to cook or pickup Chinese when I've got no enthusiasm to cook. Unexpected flowers on a Thursday in July just because. There really is truth in those "Porn for Women" calendars. Unfortunately, that's not something they can sell in stores like teddy bears and candy.

Have you ever played that game "Would you rather...?" where you have to choose between two things (usually unpleasant)? Like, would you rather eat a bowl of live crickets or pull out your toenail with tweezers? Ouch. Anyway, I read a report not too long ago that said that one in five people would rather spend their Valentine's Day with their pet than a lover. It's no wonder. I'm not sure how excited I'd be if my guy looked at it as some obligation - some annual sacrifice to the sex gods for continued hanky panky and (at least in my house) biscuits and gravy over the next year.

Got any exciting plans this Valentine's Day? What's the best or most original gift you've ever received from your significant one? Would you rather spend it with your dog? DB is working, so I'm spending it with my pets whether I want to or not. I should be kind and offer to babysit so someone else can have a nice night. Hmm...

SP

PS. The winner of last week's FBF is Magnolia! Magnolia, please send your snail mail info to problemchild@writingplayground.com to claim your copy of Magnate's Mistress... Accidentally Pregnant! (which is in its 3rd week on the USA Today Bestseller List)

Guest blogger: Kylie Brant

Hi everyone! Thanks for allowing me back on the playground! I guess that means I must have played nice the last time I was here. Or at the very least, Playground Monitor never caught me when I was kicking sand around :-). I’m sure she’ll have her eye on me this time, though!

Remember when you were a kid, and you waited forever for Christmas? I’d start moaning about June regarding how far off it was and my mom would start moaning for a very different reason—it was only six months away. Hah! A lot adults knew. Six months was a lifetime!

Well, that’s sort of how I’ve felt waiting for my dark romantic thriller trilogy to be released from Berkley. I signed the contract in 2007, almost exactly two years ago. My editor wanted to release the books back to back as quickly as possible. The problem was, I was still under contract to Silhouette and owed them two more books. That meant I had four books to write as quickly as possible. There was also the little matter of my teaching job to tend to, as well :-).

So excuse me while I squee and happy dance a bit because my first release date is here! Waking Nightmare hit the shelves at bookstores yesterday. And I’m happy to say reviewers have said nice things about it (so far :-) ).

The book is the first release in The Mindhunter series coming out Sept-Oct-Nov this fall. The name is a nickname for a private forensics firm headed by the legendary former FBI profiler Adam Raiker. It’s staffed with some of the best criminologists in the country, and each book features a specialist who’s called in to consult with law enforcement on particularly puzzling or high profile crimes.

Waking Nightmare pairs criminal profiler Abbie Phillips and Savannah detective Ryne Robel as they trail a sadistic serial rapist. He’s initially skeptical about what she can add to his task force. But skepticism turns to respect when Abbie discovers that the seeming random acts of torture are actually calculated to match each victim’s darkest fears. And the stakes are rising. While they study the devious psychopath, he’s watching them—the next objects of his terrifying obsession.

I’ve been doing lots of blogs and interviews recently and once I describe the books I’m invariably asked how an elementary teacher ended up writing about forensics, serial rapists, defleshing bones, and extracting DNA from skeletal remains.

The answer is simply that I’m fascinated by people. What they do and their motivation for doing it. How some attempt to justify actions that seem unjustifiable to most of us. And the resiliency of the human spirit, that enables people to endure tragedy and trauma and come out it stronger.

Whether writing shorter books for Silhouette or longer mass-market books, ultimately I’m writing about the characters, back-dropped against some larger than life suspense. Engaging the readers in their stories, rooting for their happy endings, and bringing down a few bad guys along the way.

You can read more at my website: http://www.kyliebrant.com/ or check out the excerpts posted for each story at http://www.kyliebrant.com/current_releases.html#nightmare.


Do you like your romance with suspense? How dark is too dark? Are there limits to what you want to see the protagonists suffer on the way to their HEA? How much romance do you want to see in a romantic suspense / thriller book?

I’m giving away a signed copy of WAKING NIGHTMARE to one lucky commenter today!

So...Is This My Real Problem?

I just read an article on BBC News that says a research study in Edinburgh determined that watching romantic comedies can ruin your love life. Experts at Heriot Watt University say it promotes unrealistic expectations about love.


(To which I say, well, duh. Is this really newsworthy? Of course it raises expectations. I certainly lose my rom-com buzz when I get home to the realities of dirty socks.)

They say "Marriage counsellors often see couples who believe that sex should always be perfect, and if someone is meant to be with you then they will know what you want without you needing to communicate it."

According to this study, if the movies are bad, romance novels must be absolutely toxic for relationships. Practically perfect men falling head over heals for wonderfully imperfect women... seems like the average guy doesn't stand a chance after a woman reads enough of them.

Personally, I LOVE romantic comedies. Some of my favorite movies are classics like Sleepless in Seattle and While You Were Sleeping. You've Got Mail. Runaway Bride. Never Been Kissed. I get goosebumps just thinking about the Beach Boys song "Don't Worry Baby" after seeing that.


Of course these movies are unrealistic. These people fall in love in nanoseconds and overcome incredible odds to be together. Same in the books. I guess there's just something to be said for an uplifiting story to make the heart and the step a little bit lighter. Makes the day to day reality a little easier to swallow. Do I expect such upswept romance in real life? Not so much. I'm hopeful that I'll at least get some sigh-worthy moments in my time, but I'm not going to sit around and wait for Mr. Perfect to show up. I'll grow old and lonely.


What about you? What's your favorite romantic comedy?


SP

So Close

NaNoWriMo ends Sunday and I'm so close I can taste it. And if it kills me, I will hit fifty thousand words. The book still won't be finished, which makes me laugh when I remember how difficult it used to be for me to write five thousand words for a confession.

I listen to Pandora radio online when I write and usually have only instrumental music, but for some reason I ended up with a channel that has Disney songs. So I'm bopping along to "Under the Sea" and something from "Beauty and the Beast" and then the most beautiful song began playing. The tune itself was lyrical but then I listened to the words and was almost in tears.

It's "So Close" from the movie "Enchanted" (which is enchanting if you haven't already seen it). The "so close" theme is so perfect for my hero and heroine. They've been dancing around their feelings for so long and I even have a scene with them at a charity gala with dancing and magic and a kiss that made the hero forget they were in public. And then someone comments and the magic is gone. As I heard the lyrics to "So Close" I was whispering "This is it!" When I edit that scene, this song is going to be on repeat so I can stay in the right mood.

Here is the clip from the movie. Be sure to listen to the lyrics too.



Do you believe in magic? And for those of you who write, has music ever really inspired you?

And because I already had another blog written before I heard this song, be sure to read the next post below cause I think you'll enjoy it. LOTS!

P.S. I'm at 41883 words -- 83.77% of the way to the finish line. I only have to write 8127 more words to finish.

Guest Blogger: Kati Dancy

The Romance Conversion

Playground Monitor here, with today's guest blogger. I "met" Kati at the blog of our mutual friend Michelle Buonfiglio. Kati lives in Washington, D.C. where she's an event planner for an environmental organization. She's been reading romance for over 25 years and is active in several romance communities. She is a reviewer and columnist for Romance Novel TV. You can visit her at her blog, Adventures in Katidom. Please give a big Playground welcome to our guest today.



I’ve been reading romance a long time, over 25 years. And those who know me well know there is little more that I enjoy than recommending books that I think they’ll love. But these are experienced romance readers. What happens when it’s someone who has never read romance? Or what if they have a disdain (that generally they can’t explain) for romance? What happens then? How do we get them to give the genre that we love so much a chance?

For me, I base my recommendations on what I know about them. If they read sci-fi, I might recommend someone like Ann Aguirre, who wrote the amazing Grimspace and its follow-up, Wanderlust. Both books are set in a gritty future-world where space travel is the norm and there are certain people who are gifted with an almost psychic ability to “jump” space ships from place to place. Or Linnea Sinclair, who writes wonderful sci-fi romances that feature strong, tremendously smart heroines and the sexy, domineering men who love them.


If the person is a fantasy reader, I might suggest C.L. Wilson’s incomparable Tairen Soul series. The series is deeply imaginative and magical and it captures the essence of “if you can dream it, you can make it so” of fantasy writing. Or, perhaps I’d suggest Elizabeth Vaughan’s Warlords of the Plains series, which are some of my all time favorite books. The books are set in a slightly alternate world that has a Native American flavor to it. The story is both a love story between a man and a woman, but also a nuanced portrayal of a woman who is a fish out of water and trying desperately to adjust and thrive in a new and foreign land. As readers, we discover her new world as she does.


If the potential reader loves mysteries, I might suggest the In Death series by J.D. Robb, which features a slightly future world, and a gritty homicide cop, her billionaire husband (one of the greatest heroes ever written in romance) and the beloved cast of secondary characters who work with her. The series has over 30 books in it and describes some pretty vivid murders, so it might appeal to a lover of the gory mystery book. If they want something with a little more heat, I’d recommend Dying to Please or Mr. Perfect by Linda Howard. Both have great mysteries, a very strong romance component, and Howard’s trademark sexual tension.

My latest conversion was my best friend, Amy. She was always slightly derisive of my love of romance. Not in a mean way, but more in that, “Kati, I can’t believe how much romance you read” kind of way. But this year, as she was getting ready to go on a business trip, she called me from Books-A-Million. She was casting around for something to read and wanted a suggestion. Amy happens to have been an art history major. So I suggested Nora Roberts’ The Three Fates. The book surrounds the search for three small, priceless pieces d’arte, the Three Fates. It also features some of the things that Roberts does best: strong smart heroines and delicious, Irish (!) heroes. Amy bought it, read it practically in one sitting, and called again. Now she needed something to read while on vacation. I handed over Homeport by Roberts again. She gobbled that one up, and came back to me. Now it was time to change it up. I’d recently read Just One of the Guys by Kristan Higgins, a new to me author who had recently won the RITA award for one of her books. I’d thoroughly enjoyed Just One of the Guys, and thought Amy might too. She called me and said, “I was crying on the plane over the book. And I finished it! Now I’ve got to find something to read for the trip home!” Last week, I brought her four more romances.

And there you have it. A romance reader is born. Do I expect that she’ll only read romance? Absolutely not. But she gave it a try, and with a couple of well placed recommendations, I was able to convince someone who had never even considered reading romance a shot.

So, my question is this, what books would you use to “convert” someone? How do you make your book recommendations to friends who are willing to give romance a chance? Have you ever converted someone to romance? How did you do it?

Love, Hate, and a Trusty Shovel

My friend Jenny called me last week to tell me she’s getting married. Jenny and I go back to days of big hair and acid wash jeans, so she’s an old, dear friend, but we’re not the closest these days. I mean, we’re close enough for me to get a personal phone call a couple of days after the ring appeared, but not close enough for me to have to be a bridesmaid. She warrants a place setting of her everyday china, but probably not the Kitchen Aid mixer. I’ll be invited to the Bachelorette party, but I won’t drive two hours to actually go. But I will show up early for the wedding to be sure everything is going according to schedule (my list-making reputation goes beyond the Playground, you know. I’ve been working on that compulsion for years, people).

(She knows I have a blog, but she doesn’t read it, so it’s safe to discuss it here.)

So, I adore Jenny, and while I offered appropriate congratulations and listened to the early planning, I couldn’t say the one thing I really wanted to:

DON’T MARRY THAT SORRY BASTARD!! (That phrase isn’t exactly on Miss Manners approved responses list.)

See, I can’t stand the Sorry Bastard she’s marrying. Jenny is smart, articulate, funny, sweet, and cute as a button. She has a couple of degrees, several licenses, and is out changing the world daily. She brings home pretty big bucks and is well-respected by her colleagues. Sorry Bastard (SB) is an “artist.” A wanna-be songwriter. As far as I can tell, that involves sleeping on Jenny’s couch all day and playing PS2. He might go play with his expensive toys (you know, the keyboards and computers and things he needs to be a songwriter), but no songs seem to be forthcoming. He’ll get a part-time job occasionally, just to pay some of his bills, but he always quits because it’s not his “dream.” (I know it’s hard to break into a creative business, but there’s a reason folks tell you not to quit your day job just yet.) Jenny, on the other hand, works full-time, does all the cooking, cleaning and laundry, caters to him and still finds time to sit in the stands at his softball games. This has been the standard for about ten years. Needless to say, the grapevine speculates that Jenny finally told SB to either propose or get the hell out of her house — at 35, she’s ready for a grown-up relationship. She could do so much better than SB and all of her friends would love to see her with someone who has half her class and intelligence. I know she loves him, but seriously, we all know love isn’t everything a healthy relationship requires.

(Yes, I understand that I don’t need to like the men my friends marry. Heck, it took me about ten years to learn to tolerate Counselor Shelley’s husband. He, at least, supports her (in many ways), makes her happy, and treats her like a princess. Just ‘cause we hated each other wasn’t a good enough reason to twist my panties up. I’m not the one living with him, and I only see him a couple of times a decade. But I still have a shovel ready…just in case we need to hide the body.)

So, back to Jenny and my problem with the Sorry Bastard she’s marrying. Now is when I wish life was really like a romance novel. Oh, the things I could do if I got to write the book from here on out. Jenny’s Spunky Friend (SF) — that would be me — who kept her mouth (mostly) shut for ten years, loses it at the sight of the ring. SF hatches a plan to get the wedding canceled. After several complicated and amusing plot twists, SF manages to get Jenny to see the light and dump the Sorry Bastard. A Handsome Hunk for Jenny awaits in the wings, and HH just happens to have a French best friend, Sexy-Cutie, who falls for Spunky Friend. The four have a few more amusing adventures, a Black Moment where the girls get pedicures and drink margaritas, and then a non-sappy reconciliation scene that sends both happy couples to Happily Ever After.

Ah, the joys of fiction. Alas, Jenny wouldn’t be very happy with me if I actually tried something (and Darling Geek would probably object to me snogging Sexy-Cutie — even in the name of research).

So my choices — as I see them — are limited:

1) Smile and nod and pretend I’m really happy for Jenny and the Sorry Bastard and just steel myself for another ten years of Jenny only being moderately happy. (I could spend that time researching the best divorce lawyers in that part of the state…)

2) Take her out for drinks and explain that I think she’s making a huge mistake with this sorry bastard and risk angering her to the point she not only hates me now, but won’t feel like she can call me when the marriage goes to hell and she needs a friend. (I’m also not sure this would do much good. I know several of her good friends — I mean the kind who are bridesmaids and will be getting her the Kitchen Aid mixer — have attempted to do gentle interventions over the years and achieved nothing.)

3) Hire a hooker to drug SB and take very compromising photos that are then delivered anonymously to Jenny.

4) Break out my shovel (very handy, that shovel. First you can beat him with it, then you can dig the hole to hide the body.).

I’m open to suggestions for a better set of options. I mean, none of these are really ideal — although the one with the hooker could at least be amusing, and the one with the shovel would provide me with much personal satisfaction.

I care about Jenny very much, and I want her to be happy. If I thought that Sorry Bastard would actually work hard to make her happy, I’d support this marriage with a genuine smile on my face.

I know love is powerful and complex; that’s why I write romance. But for all the crap the genre catches, romance does show how important it is for partners to be on an equal footing of respect and responsibility. Maybe I should hand Jenny a stack of romances and hope she gets the message.

Unless y’all can come up with better suggestions, I guess I’ll just start researching those divorce attorneys and polishing my shovel.

Ever been in a similar situation? What did you do?

PC

Geek out

We all know the Darling Geek is, well, a geek. Me, on the other hand, not so much. DG can make stuff work and get computers to behave while I sit there and whine and cuss. (Yeah, I know how helpful that is.) He’s a technology expert, and I’m, at best, a dilettante.

We do live a pretty technological existence—HD, TiVO, and a bunch of other letters that mean nothing to me—but when it comes to who owns the most technology, I seem to win.

DG’s computer could run the space station while tap dancing and never miss a turn in Quake Wars and still have plenty of unused hard drive space. (I think mine could at least launch a space shuttle since it’s made of hand-me-down parts from DG’s old computers.) His monitor is bigger than some TVs and he has this fancy headset he uses to talk to folks thousands of miles away while he plays games. It’s a miracle of modern technology.

With his love of all things geeky, you’d think he’d have a whole collection of electronic gadgets. Not so much.

I— the lit-lovin’, ballet dancin’, book writer-- seem to have more gadgets than the geek. Let’s see, there’s a PDA with folding keyboard, digital voice recorder, AlphaSmart, MP3 player complete with the whizgig that lets it play through my car stereo, noise blocking headphones, laptop, and teeny-tiny digital camera. I’m eyeballing an iPod for my birthday and have dropped hints about a wireless mouse for my laptop.

And DG, let’s see. He has a computer, and a cell phone, and... hmm, that’s about it. I think it embarrasses him sometimes to have a wife with more gadgets.

But he likes buying me gadgets (for the most part. He thought the Alphie was evil, but got me one anyway.). Some men buy their wives lingerie; mine buys me electronic toys. And while I love all my gadgetry, I think it bothers him that I don’t use them all to their maximum potential. Heck, I’m doing good to get the photos off my camera and onto my hard drive.

The downside to living with a techno-geek is that I’m lazy. If my computer merely stutters, I call DG. I have no idea how to update/upload/install anything. I just recently learned how to copy a CD. If something doesn’t work, I leave the room until DG tells me it’s safe to return. So while the rest of the world has learned (if unwillingly) to deal with the small problems of high-tech life, I remain stunningly ignorant.

I can never leave DG. I’d have to start paying for IT support. And I can bet they won’t let me call them on my cell phone from the bedroom and they’ll be there in two minutes to fix the problem. (One time, when I was in grad school, DG left work to come home and try to rescue a file I’d mistakenly closed without saving.) And I know they won’t come because the DVD player isn’t working right or the Favorites List on the TiVo needs to be updated.

I have a t-shirt that says “I (heart) my geek.” And I do. In so many ways.

Now, how does one get music on to one of those iPod thingys...

PC

I seem to have multiple themes going on today. We can talk about cool gadgetry, or you can tell me what expertise your Darling has that makes your life easier. Up to you. My favorite comment of the day will get a nifty book light and a book—to cover both bases of technology and love.

More Than You EVER Wanted to Know about Writing a Harlequin NASCAR Romance…

First of all, thanks to PC for the very nice review of the THE ROOKIE here at the Playground. And I always enjoy stopping by here to check out what’s going on, so I’m pretty darned excited to be the guest blogger today.

When I first heard that Harlequin had teamed up with NASCAR to cover romances, I thought it was a very savvy business move – I just didn’t realize I’d be one of the writers involved. I was invited to write one of the books and while I was still on the phone with the editor, the characters and the storyline popped into my head – a pampered daddy’s girl who’s always had everything handed to her on the sponsorship side and a down-to-earth rookie driver who’s fought his way up the ranks. It’s always a good thing when characters show up wanting their shot at happiness.

Now color me strange (please hold all cheeky comments on that), but the other appealing factor was it had to have a romance and sexual tension, but it also had to be written at a PG-rating level. No on-page sex. No “earthy” language. Uh, both of those things are a given in all of my books. Plus this was a longer word count than I’d ever written. This was an opportunity and a challenge for me to write outside my norm, to tell a story that would appeal to NASCAR fans who’d perhaps never read romance before, and likewise to interest romance readers who weren’t necessarily NASCAR enthusiasts.

I hopped on-board.

And I quickly learned an important thing. You can like NASCAR racing and you can watch it but there’s a whole lot to know beyond that to write about people who live in that world because it is a world unto itself. It very quickly slapped me upside the head that I needed to do some major research. I do actually research pretty much every book that I write whether it’s location or jobs or professions, but this was way beyond and above any kind of research I’d had to do before.

I bought lots of non-fiction books about NASCAR and read. The fam and I went to a race at Talladega and sat in the nosebleed section and when it got rained out on Sunday, we won the Bad Parent Award by keeping our kid out of school and going back to the Monday make-up race. It was very cool to “experience” a race at the track, although I could have definitely lived without the horrendous traffic. There’s a reason they fly the crew members in and out.

In May 2006, a group of us met in Charlotte for a tour of Roush Racing headquarters and the Lowe’s Motor Speedway. Here we are, all assembled for dinner the night before:

Front, L to R: Carrie Weaver, editor Marsha Zinberg, Ken Casper, (Back) Gina Wilkins, Wendy Etherington, Yours Truly.


What an amazing experience to go through the garages where these cars are being built and fine-tuned, to see the assembly crews at work, to realize the depth, scope and sophistication behind those Saturday and Sunday races. We also got to tour one of the haulers – those big transport vehicles that take the cars to the track. It was kinda mind-boggling when the tour guy told us that when that hauler pulls out heading for a race, fully loaded down, you’re watching one million bucks pull out of the parking lot.

When you think garage area, grease and oil and well…dirty immediately comes to mind. Uh, no. People, we are talking pristine. You couldn’t buy a spec of dirt or oil. It was cleaner than my kitchen floor. Actually, it was probably cleaner than my kitchen table.

And here’s the inside of Carl Edward’s hauler at Roush.

And outside the hauler…

Then it was over to Lowe’s Motor Speedway where the Busch Series cars were practicing. It didn’t matter that we were there with NASCAR personnel. No one’s going in the in-field without registering and picking up a band at the Credentials office. Here we are sporting our wrist bands:

And who could resist the opportunity to stand in Victory Lane when the other guys have to fight it out on the track for this opportunity? Not us.


My other research trip was to Atlanta Motor Speedway in October. Fellow writer Wendy Etherington and I were lucky enough to get “cold passes” which granted us entry to the garage area and pit road until an hour before the race began and a pass to the NASCAR skybox which overlooks the start/finish line.

Here’s a pic of the crews setting up the pit boxes early in the morning:

Inside the NASCAR Nextel Cup Garage trackside:


and a crew waiting to take the car though to have it checked out by tech:



I’ll have to say the research was incredibly interesting and brought a nice authenticity to many of the scenes. When the hero or heroine is in the hauler, it’s authentic. Skybox? Check. Plus my husband and daughter were green with envy.

No. I did not meet any of the drivers and that suited me just fine. Tucker Macray, the hero who is a rookie driver, is totally a person I built in my own head. He’s not based on or inspired by any driver out there. Tucker was so firmly in my head, I didn’t want to muck that up. Plus, I’m actually kind of shy -- no snorting from any of the playfriends -- yes, I will talk your ear off once I know you, but otherwise…. Other than “Hi, nice to meet you” I doubt I would’ve managed to say much more. And third, the kind of things I’d want to ask any of the drivers, they wouldn’t want to answer because it’s the kind of “crawl into your head” stuff a writer wants to know.

Despite the research when all is said and done, it’s a love story set against a NASCAR backdrop. For two people with such different backgrounds, a stock car driver who attributes racing with literally saving his life and a pampered heiress, I really felt as if this hero and heroine were meant for each other, which at the end of the day is what it’s all about.

When I say I grew writing this book, I mean it literally. By the time I finished the revisions, I’d packed on ten pounds and I hit Harlequin’s deadline but I was nearly a month past mine. Of course, you’ve got to factor in that in the middle of revisions my mother fell and shattered her arm and had to have surgery and I figure ten pounds was a better deal than a nervous breakdown.

The book is done and I’m on to the next one and I get this cover:



I wasn’t sure whether to cry or laugh hysterically. I decided on both. Surely, the cover gods couldn’t have deserted me so horribly on a book I’d worked so hard on and sacrificed ten horrid pounds for.

Voila, a month later, I learned that the cover had been scrapped in lieu of this one!


Woohoo!! Thank you, cover gods, thank you!!!

Okay, so I’ve blathered on enough. I’d love to answer any questions you might have except I AM NOT telling how much I weigh.

P.S. You can learn more about Jennifer and her books at her website and be sure to visit The Soapbox Queens, her group blog.

This just in! "I'd like to share the Harlequin NASCAR love...and read...by giving away a free copy of The Rookie to two visitors today."