My grandkids are in day camp this week so I can write during the day without interruption–except today they had an “overnight” and won’t be back until tomorrow. My grandson Logan forgot his toothbrush, hair gel (yes, at 13, my redheaded grandson needs hair gel) and pajamas, so after I drove 25 minutes into Boulder to drop them off, I drove all the way home and then back again with his backpack, which contained the necessary items. And who said grandmas aren’t helpful? The books underneath his backpack are mine. I keep a box in the car so I can give them away whenever I’m in a situation where someone finds out I’m a writer and would like to try a book of mine.
For those of you who’ve asked, yes, BLACKTHORNE’S BRIDE was supposed to be out in August–if I’d finished it by March 15. Unfortunately, I didn’t make that deadline. I’m now writing like crazy to get it done as soon as possible so I can get in line for another publishing slot.
I’m still listening to GRIT in the car (obviously to a lot more of it this morning than I expected), which began addressing the issue of “flow” and wondering whether an athlete or performer (or writer) who practices for endless hours ever finds that moment when everything seems to be coming easily. I have to admit, it hasn’t happened often for me. Mostly, it’s hard, lonely work sitting at a computer. However, there are moments–just moments–when the characters “talk” to me, telling the story so fast that I’m just a conduit between them and the paper where the words end up (and since I type 120 words a minute, that’s pretty fast). I have two books like that (out of 58 novels I’ve written). Check out Captive, the first book in my Captive Hearts series of 4 novels, and The Barefoot Bride, which is a book that has a single sequel. Those books both seemed to write themselves.