Are You Ready For Valentine's Day? by Megan Crane

Valentine's Day is coming!

In honor of this much-maligned, yet often much-loved holiday, I went last night to see the brand new movie of the same name:



This movie is exactly what you'd expect from "a day in the life of love." Tears, laughter, a little bit of heartbreak, and lots of hope. Not bad for a day that overdoes the pink, makes us all overdose on chocolate and communicative heart candies, and has been known to make some people feel pretty lonely sometimes.

My husband and I kind of make it up as we go along. This year, we think we might go out. But then again, we might stay in and watch a movie. It's kind of a win/win scenario because either way, we get to be together.

Which is kind of what the movie's about, too. Love makes its own rules. And you're better off for it, even if it hurts. And sometimes, it can be a miracle. Even a quiet one.

How do you feel about Valentine's Day? Do you have any traditions? Anti-traditions?

Wedding Dresses

Lately I've been thinking about wedding dresses.

I'm not sure why.  After all, my wedding was many years ago and something I only plan on doing once.  And my kids are several years away from being marriageable age so it's not as if I'm going to be shopping for dresses any time soon.  I'm kind of in those in between years where we're old enough that most of our friends are married and young enough that their kids are not tying the knot either.

So what's up with the dresses?

I blame my characters.

Not every book has a wedding dress, of course.  A happy ending often ends with a promise and not the actual wedding.  But in my current manuscript I am thinking of a wedding and wondering what my heroine will choose to wear.  And in my book next month - HER LONE COWBOY, there are not one, not two, but THREE dresses to consider.

A wedding dress is as individual as the person wearing it, I think.  And so when I look for a dress for my heroine I hit a lot of bridal sites looking for just the perfect dress.  Not to mention headpieces and shoes...  Tiaras or veils?  Sandals or satin pumps?

For my heroine in HIRED BY THE COWBOY, Alex, I picked a simple style with an empire waist and a lovely overskirt - a real soft and feminine look.  For Jenn, in ONE DANCE WITH THE COWBOY, it was a satin strapless number with a gathered waist.  Of course, that wedding takes place in HER LONE COWBOY and Lily is making that dress. Which brings up the question of what Lily will choose to wear.

Because there's already a dress in Lily's closet, and it looks suspiciously like this!

When I think back over my other heroines  I wonder what they would have worn to their weddings.  What about 40-something Maggie from FALLING FOR MR. DARK AND DANGEROUS?  Or Lucy, our cowgirl/Mediterranean Princess in THE RANCHER'S RUNAWAY PRINCESS?  What about the shy and efficient Mari from HIRED: THE ITALIAN'S BRIDE?

One size and style definitely does not fit all.  It would have been fun shopping for all those gowns!

I look back on my gown now with fond remembrance of our wedding day.  I loved it then, with its elaborate sleeves and mini train. It's still a beautiful dress, but if I had to shop for a dress now, it would be far simpler. 

What about you?  Do you pay attention to the wedding gowns in books?  Would you buy the same one again?  What kind of dress do you want for your big day?

February - the month of love? by Kate Walker

When I was a child and still at school, I learned a rhyme that was about all the months. It began with the lines

January brings the snow,

Makes out feet and fingers glow.

Well, here in the UK we certainly had that one coming true - we had snow, snow and more snow. And I (and my cats) was more than happy to see it finally melt away. But as I write this there is yet more snow outside, and more promised if the forecasters have got it right. And even if that snow doesn't arrive, then - according to this rhyme - the next thig we can expect is that:

February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.

Oh yes. February is a cold, wet month. It was always known as 'February fill-dyke' as the rain lashed down, filling the rivers and the dykes, and often causing floods.

So this had me wondering - why then would anyne choose Febraury 14th as the date to celebrate love, passion and all things romantic? A day in a cold, wet usually pretty miserable month where beauty is hard to find, the glow and excitement of Christmas and New Year is well behind us, red roses cost a fortune, and it takes an effort to even think of trying to be romantic.

Or perhaps that's the point? Perhaps it's the fact that because it's hard to make an effort that's what makes it more romantic. It's the effort, the trying, the doing something out of routine, something a little different and a bit special that makes Valentine's Day - or indeed any day - really romantic.

Because isn't that what romance is really all about? It certainly is in the books I write. People - people who don't know the truth - tend to think of romance novels as being about soft and pretty, chocolate box, kittens and flowers sort of love. Boy meets girl, girl falls in love with boy, boy falls in love with girl, they marry and live happily ever after. It's soppy, cheesy, a 'soft'.

Not the books I write. I write about people who have real problems in their relationship. People who have reason to dislike, even to hate each other. Reason to believe the worst of someone, even as they are acknowledging that this person is really affecting them like no other person ever has in all their life. People who have to fight - with their hero or heroine, with their mistaken beliefs, and, ultimately, with themselves to reach a real, honest, deep and long-lasting love. It's an adult affair, not boy meets girl, not hearts and flowers, not pretty pink cards easily picked up in the local supermarket.

After all, St Valentine himself didn't have things easy - St. Valentine was a Priest, martyred in 269 at Rome apparently beaten with clubs and then beheaded, and was buried on the Flaminian Way. He is the Patron Saint of affianced couples, bee keepers, engaged couples, epilepsy, fainting, greetings, happy marriages, love, lovers, plague, travellers, young people. He is represented in pictures with birds and roses. One legend says, while awaiting his execution, Valentinus restored the sight of his jailer's blind daughter. Another legend says, on the eve of his death, he penned a farewell note to the jailer's daughter, signing it, "From your Valentine."

So perhaps that's it. Perhaps it's because February is such a dark, gloomy, apparently unromantic month that we celebrate romantic love in the middle of it. And Valentine's Day is really like love and romance itself isn't it? Just when everything is dark and gloomy and bleak, we have a day that reminds us to make an effort for the person we love. To show them, tell them how we feel. It may be cold and wet but with the one you love you can curl up safe and sheltered and let love keep you warm

And in that case February is probably the perfect month.

(Of course this idea only works right on this side of the world - my Australian and New Zealand readers and all of you in the other hemisphere will have a warm February anyway!)

So will you be celebrating Valentine's Day or do you think it's just commercial rubbish? What's the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you? Leave you answers in the comments and as always I'll get Sid the Cat on the job of picking a winner who'll receieve a signed book from my backlist.

Kate Walker's latest Presents release is The Konstantos Marriage Demand which was published in Mills & Boon Modern on January 15th and is in Mills & Boon Sexy in Australia this month. It will be out in Presents EXTRA in March and is already available for pre-sale on eHarlequin.com.

Romantic Times called this a ‘ terrifically well-paced and fiery romance’ with a ‘very rewarding conclusion,’ and chose it as one of their series romance Top Picks for March.

One of Kate’s earlier books, The Twelve Month Mistress is also featured in a brand- new ebook 'Bundle' - one of the Blogger Bundles now available on eharlequin.com. This is a special selection of favourite Presents authors chosen by We Write Romance.You can find out more about Kate and her books by visiting her web site or get the really up to date news on her blog.

Wonderful weekends... - Natalie Anderson

This weekend my husband and I are celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary.
I can’t believe its gone so fast – in ten years we’ve lived in two countries, three cities, five houses, I started writing (he’s done all the laundry) and – the biggie – we’ve had four children.

Life has just been crazy busy wonderful.

To celebrate the decade, hubby and I are spending two nights – ALONE!!!

We’ve had only one night away from all the children before, for a wedding a couple of months ago. So this is very exciting – we’re dropping the kids to my mother and then going to a very cute little town called Akaroa on Banks Peninsula in the South Island of New Zealand. Akaroa was settled by the French in the nineteenth century before the British claimed it, but the French influence remains – so the streets are all ‘rue’ and there’s a yummy bakery and its all very lovely. Perfect actually, because my wip is set in France and I can pretend I’m in a tiny village on the Riviera… with my very own hero. (Not that I think about my work all the time… nope, never!)

We have some very fabulous French champagne already packed, a waterfront hotel booked, and pretty much no other plans than that – none to be aired publicly anyway!

Frankly, I’m as giggly and as over-excited as a teen who’s just been asked to prom by her crush. I am so looking forward to it. Ten years has flown by – that isn’t to say it hasn’t had its challenges (four kids remember – four under four for a while there!) but it has been wonderful! I feel very lucky.

But sometimes it isn’t so easy though is it – especially for the poor characters in my books! This month I’ve got two couples with some serious ‘history’ – Jared was the crush of Amanda’s teen years – and he totally crushed her. They meet again as adults in Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress – and realise that all those extreme teen emotions are most definitely still around! Meanwhile in To Love, Honour & Disobey, Seb and Ana had a wild affair that culminated in a spur of the moment marriage. Now that divorce papers are served, Seb realises just what it is he wants…
Anyway, let me know what your ideal romantic weekend retreat would be and I’ll pick a winner to receive a copy both books. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

With very best wishes,
Natalie
http://www.natalie-anderson.com/

Pick Your Hero, Any Hero

I’ve been reading romance novels since I was in the fifth grade. My mother handed me a couple after an unsuccessful visit to the bookstore, where I couldn’t find a book because I’d already read everything in the Young Adult and classics sections of the store. From the first page of the first book (Jude Deveraux’s Velvet Angel) I was hooked. Hooked by the fabulous story, incredible clothes, terrible dungeons, plucky heroine, and, of course, the sexy as all get out hero, Miles Montgomery. Seriously, there was nothing about this man not to love. He was tall, sexy, handsome, loyal, intelligent, cunning, adored by women from age 1 to 99 and a hell of a good fighter, to boot. Needless to say, he made my 11 year old heart go pitter patter. And then some.

Anyway, I’ve been reading romances for 23 years now—and I’m not a one sub-genre kind of girl. I read just about everything—romantic comedy, category, erotic romance, romantic suspense, contemporary, paranormals, historicals, YA—if it’s a romance, I’ll give it a shot. My TBR pile numbers in the high hundreds. Now, the sub-genres of romance are very different—in tone, temperament, style, heroine, and any number of other things. I enjoy the differences, I really do. But for me, the one constant in romance novels is the hero. And let me tell you, I love me a good hero.

Maybe because Miles Montgomery, a truly fabulous hero, was my first example of the romance novel hero, I always strive to create a hero that is as fabulous and yummy and all around amazing as he was. So when I sat down to write this blog post, I thought I’d give you a thumbnail sketch of some of the heroes I've written to date. But I’ll warn you, I write seriously alpha heroines, so my heroes need to be pretty kick-ass themselves.

Cole Adams, the hero of my lasterotic suspense, Tie Me Down, is a tall, dark and gorgeous documentary maker on the trail of his sister’s murderer. Desperate to solve the cold case, he turns to Genevieve Deveraux, one of the few honest New Orleans homicide detectives around, to help him. Sparks fly as the two search for his sister’s murderer—and face down a psychotic serial killer—and Cole, who relishes being in control in and out of the bedroom, finds himself seriously turned on by Genevieve’s strength and determination. Though his relationships are always a little dark, even Cole is shocked by the intensity of his need for Genevieve and the lengths he will go to to get inside her body and her head. Her independence and need for control bring out a side of him that he’s never known existed—one that is dark and dangerous and determined to bend her to his will. And though he is shocked by his need to dominate her-- to be everything to her—he is unable to walk away from the wild, often frightening, pleasure he feels when he’s with her.

Rafael Cardoza, my hero from my December Superromance, is also tall, dark and gorgeous (noticing a pattern here)? He has a dark past that involves spending time in jail for a crime he didn't commit. And while he's managed to move on and be a successful, productive member of society (he runs a teen center in the middle of San Francisco's Tenderloin area) he is suspicious of the silver spoon society that lives on Nob Hill, as it was false testimony from the girl on the right side of the tracks that put him in prison. Suspicious, that is, until he meets Vivian-- the rich lawyer willing to take on one the defense of one of the teen's at his center for free. Suddenly, all of his ideas about rich, white women are shaken and htough Rafael is all hardass on the outside-- leather, motorcycle, tattoos, earring-- he slowly reveals a very tender inside.

And finally, Byron Hawthorne, the hero of my April 2010 erotic suspense, is a different breed all together. To begin with, after writing nine books, I finally decided to go for a blonde hero-- one who looks very much like the boy next door. And though Byron has demons of his own, he's an exciting, fun-loving hero, full of teasing, laughter and exciting games-- and the perfect hero for my much-too-serious heroine.

So those are my heroes for the last six months, the men I've created to foil my strong but vulnerable heroines. What kind of heroes do you like to read about? Oh, and stop by my blog for Fun Friday, http://www.tracywolff.blogspot.com/ I'm giving away a $10 gift certificate to Bath and Body Works.

Happy Friday!

Oh, The Places I Have Gone! - Susan Crandall

Remember the fantabulous Dr. Seuss book, Oh, The Places You’ll Go! ? Well, Dr. Seuss is all about choices while using your brains and your feet. I on the other hand am all about filling up my brain with stuff I can use to create believable worlds of emotion and danger. And you won’t believe some of the places my feet have taken me in that quest.

Even though the Internet has made research so much easier, so many fewer trips to the library with my cart to tote the huge stacks of books home, nothing replaces a little “hands on” experience. So let me tell you about a few of the places my brains and my feet have taken me.

Just this week, I spent the afternoon at a funeral home. Yes, you read correctly, a funeral home. A fascinating education—even though I’m sure it’s not what every writer needs. That’s just it, you never actually know what you need until you’re knee deep in a plot. This research trip was for my son’s current work in progress, but you can bet I wasn’t missing out on an opportunity for fact gathering. I learned a lot. In Indiana, we have a county coroner system, with an elected coroner (as opposed to a medical examiner system with an appointed ME) who signs off on the death certificates. That opens all kinds of doors for fictional murder investigations.

I’ve been buried in concrete rubble and played victim for a FEMA K-9 search and rescue team. It all started when researching a yet-to-be-written novel that features SAR dogs. First I shadowed them as they trained one cold and rainy weekend. These dogs and their handlers are unbelievably dedicated and totally amazing. At that training day, I discovered that they always need people to play victim for the dogs to find. You’d better believe I was quick to offer, and while I was at it, I volunteered my daughter too.

The day we played victims it was ninety degrees and ninety percent humidity. We slid into our places wearing hard hats and knee pads. Mine was a thirty-inch tall, four foot diameter concrete pipe set on end. There was a large concrete slab over the top with just enough space for me to slip inside. They then covered that space up. I could only be found by dog scenting me and alerting his handler … and a fiber-optic camera. The SAR teams were shuttled in on Blackhawk helicopters (they wanted to train the dogs to work after such an unsettling adventure). Of the six teams that came in turns to search this huge, and I mean huge, pile of rubble, five of them found me. I’d say that was pretty darned amazing. My daughter was found every time. What an experience.

At a silent auction I placed the winning bid on “sheriff for a day.” The way it was presented, I think they expected someone to buy this for their grade school age child. You know, come see what a sheriff does, ride in his car, have lunch with him, that kind of stuff. His secretary seemed rather surprised when I called to schedule the day—for me. The sheriff seemed to adjust well to the advanced age of his winner. I came in with a long list of questions, and learned much beyond that. I was even treated to a chat with an FBI investigator who happened into my path. I toured the jail and went through the entire process an arrested person goes through, short of donning the jumpsuit and surrendering possessions. Let me tell you, I don’t ever care to do it for real.

My brains never fail to embarrass my husband when we’re chatting with strangers by the odd questions that pop into my head. My feet have taken me through many doors in order to quiz doctors, psychologists, hypnotists, sleepwalkers, firefighters, parents of children with autism, self-defense instructors, paramedics, historians, armed services specialists, crime scene investigators, auto mechanics, and florists.

I’ve toured the FBI in DC and watched ATF demonstrations.

I even ventured to a firing range once. Discovered I’m a pretty good shot with a handgun. Not that I’ll ever do it again. Holding a gun makes me nauseous with nerves. I never would have known that if I’d only looked up handgun specifics on the Internet. I never would have been able to describe the feel of it, the smell, or understand just how hard it was to pull that trigger the first time.

Nothing, nothing, nothing takes the place of real-life experiences.

Next week I start the citizen’s police academy. I can’t wait!

Susan

http://www.susancrandall.com/

Drama, Romance – It’s a Natural -- Jacqueline Diamond

In an act of faith, our older son gave us the DVDs of four seasons of “House” for Christmas. That’s the TV series starring Hugh Laurie as a grumpy doctor who manages to be brilliant, obnoxious and even sometimes lovable.

What makes this an act of faith? My husband doesn’t like medical shows – especially the graphic scenes of surgery – and I’d watched only one episode of “House” and found it a bit downbeat for my taste. But our son loves that series, and he believed we would, too.

So we started watching. And, as you might guess, we got hooked. Me more than my husband, but that crabby MD and his hunky colleagues grew on us both.

There’s an enduring appeal to medical settings, because they involve emotional fundamentals: birth, death, heartbreak, exhilaration, friendship and determination. The situations are naturally filled with suspense as we root for the patient to recover.

Medical settings work wonderfully for romance novels, too. This month, Harlequin American Romance launches my series-within-a-series, Safe Harbor Medical, with the romantic comedy/drama The Would-Be Mommy.

The overall idea for the miniseries is that a reporter‘s mistake identifies Safe Harbor Medical Center with California’s Safe Haven law. Believing there’s a special connection, distraught young mothers come pouring in to relinquish the newborns they can’t keep.

The hospital staff has to help the moms and, when budget cuts hamper local social services, find temporary homes for the infants.

In The Would-Be Mommy, my heroine is the hospital’s public relations director. Jennifer lost her own baby years ago and she finds herself falling in love with the little girl she’s caring for. But there are shadows on her past that might blot out the future, especially if that sexy reporter – the one who caused all the trouble – finds out.

In August, Harlequin will publish the second book in the series, His Hired Baby, followed in December by the third book. No title yet.

Just as I’m hooked on “House,” I hope you’ll enjoy my latest venture into the world of the hospital (I’ve written quite a few doctor books, as you can see on my Web site, www.jacquelinediamond.com).

And here’s the big news: my editor just offered me a contract for three more Safe Harbor Medical romances! Secondary characters involved in the first three books are fervently living out their own stories, and insisting that I write about them.

I can hardly wait!


Bio:
The daughter of a physician, Jacqueline Diamond has always been fascinated by medical subjects. She’s sold 87 novels, including romance, mystery and fantasy, and is a former Associated Press TV columnist and reporter.

Laced with Desire - Jasmine Haynes

As many of you know, I have the honor of working with my coauthors from Unlaced all over again. This time we’ve got a special Valentines treat for you, Laced with Desire. Of course, we’ve got four wonderful stories for you. My fellow authors are fantastic, and it’s an honor to be working with them again.

Let me tell you a bit about where my story came from. This is probably TMI, but I’m going to be brave and do it anyway. A while back, I had my yearly mammogram and they found something...odd. Of course, you call the radiologist and the nurse and no one will tell you anything. You have to talk to your doctor. Well, my doctor was out of town, so I didn’t know squat. I also happened to be going to a conference, so I couldn’t redo the mammogram until I got back. A whole week to wait! My husband calls me a catastrophizer. Someone else called it awfulizing. I love both terms. Anyway, what it means is that you imagine the worst. That’s me! And that’s what I did the whole time at the conference, worried myself sick. Why do I do this to myself!? Well, long story short, I redid my mammogram, and everything was fine the second time around. All that worrying for nothing! However, I’m a writer. And when my editor asked me to be a part of another corset anthology, I already had my story idea! Right out of the pages of my own life. See, writers don’t even waste a good worry! And here’s a little preview:

In La Petite Mort, supermodel-turned-cosmetics-executive Sophia faces the potential of a life-threatening illness, and she now regrets all the fantasies she was too career-focused to fulfill. CEO Ford Connelly doesn’t give a damn that he’s Sophia’s boss, he means to fulfill the one fantasy she revealed to him, two men to give her all the pleasure she’s denied herself. Read an excerpt of LaPetiteMort.

Okay, so tell me, do any of you catastrophize? Come on, don’t make me feel all alone in my awfulizing!

Post a comment (you must leave your e-mail so I can contact you) and I’ll enter you in a drawing for an autographed copy of Unlaced. I’ll also add you to my newsletter for updates on releases.

Just a little promo, too. Okay, a LOT of promo! But i want to make sure you don't miss out on a single contest. You have one more day to get in on all the wonderful prizes my coauthors and I are offering on our cross blog! Just follow the blogs Jasmine Haynes, Jaci Burton, Joey Hill, Denise Rossetti, and learn all about our favorite clothing and other fun stuff about us, and we’ll enter you for a chance to win our books. The winners will be announced tomorrow morning, Feb 3rd! There’s also our interview Fri, Feb 5th, at http://idonotwanttowaitiwantthebooknow.wordpress.com/. More chances to win!

Just so JB Skully doesn’t get dissed, RomanticCrushJunkie will be doing a giveaway for the entire 5-book Max Starr series during February. Just click on the Dead to the Max book cover to enter the drawing.

Jasmine, Jennifer and JB!
Newsletter: skullybuzz-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
Blog: http://jasminehaynes.blogspot.com/

Men to Do: The Winter Olympics Edition -- Susanna Carr

Yes, it's that time again. The Olympics! Or as I like to think of it: 17 days of hot, reckless men defying nature, time and gravity. Men who are in their prime, pushing themselves faster, harder, and stronger.

I know, I know. I really should have evolved by now. But, admit it, there are time you are stuck watching a sporting event and the only thing that gets you through is studying the rough and tough men in form fitting uniforms. Or is that just me?

As much as I love watching the opening ceremonies and listening to the stories of sacrifice and triumph, I also like being dazzled by what these athletes do. And I also like drooling over the men. If I could, I would award the bronze, silver and gold to:

Adam Pengilly, who competes in the skeleton event for Great Britain

Henrik Lundqvist, who is in the Swedish ice hockey team

Julien Lizeroux, who represents France in the Alpine Skiing event

I'm sure there are other athletes who could compete for Sexiest Olympian, but these are the ones that have already caught my eye.

My favorite movies - Melina Morel

Last night as I was trying to fall asleep after working on a follow-up to SMOLDER, my urban fantasy that just came out on January 5, I found a lovely old song running through my mind – “Somewhere My Love,” from the film Doctor Zhivago. Now why that particular song should have popped up at that precise moment is a mystery, but as it percolated through my brain, I started thinking of the movie, the big, sweeping romantic saga of a Russian family torn from a comfortable affluence under the Tsars to near destitution after a disastrous war and violent revolution. Really, is there anything prettier than the picture of Tonya dressed all in pink as she descends the train to be reunited with the young Zhivago after her education in Paris? Or anything starker than Lara, seduced by Karamovsky who walks into a lavish party and shoots the man who “ruined” her?

Watching her that night, young Doctor Zhivago and Tonya know there’s something in the air that does not bode well for their Russia. And it’s his first encounter with the woman who will play such a tumultuous role in his life.

One of the things that still makes that film fascinating is the background of one civilization dying and another harsher one rising, to destroy lives and create unspeakable misery. But on another level, it’s the lush, romantic musical score, the magnificent costumes and the fine acting that draws you in and keeps you fascinated till the end. In post World War I Russia, Zhivago, Lara and their child will never reunite, but their love will live on in the glorious poems he wrote for her. It’s a bittersweet romance, with the possibility of union pursued, but remaining always elusive, just out of reach. Omar Sharif, Geraldine Chaplin and Julie Christie were incredible.

So, as I was thinking of this movie, I started wondering what I’d pick if I had to choose my five favorites. Sleep was not coming easily this night, and thinking about films seemed like a nice alternative to counting sheep.

Well, Doctor Zhivago would be first on the list, no rivals here. Second would have to be Lawrence of Arabia, played by the dashing, the gorgeous, the sexy young Peter O’Toole. With Omar Sharif as his co-star. (Zhivago does to the desert?) Again, a big theme, great actors, terrific costumes and fine performances and cinematography that filled up the screen with epic pictures of the desert and unresolved troubles at the end.

Now for my third choice? Well, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, with Paul Newman and Robert Redford. Again, a wonderful song, Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head, a terrific cast, lots of great western scenery, a buddy film with a good ol’ gal for company, fast action and that wonderful desperate end with the freeze frame at the final moment.

For number four, Newman and Redford again in The Sting. There was something so old-fashioned and small-time American about those two in their roles as hustlers, out to swindle a bigger gangster, that it made you love them. Okay, they weren’t sterling characters, but they were up against one who was far worse, and besides that they had loads of bad boy charm that made you root for them. I think they appealed to the underdog in us all – even if we’d never think of taking the path they did. And let’s not forget that catchy theme music. Just a great flick all around.

For number five, let’s see. There are so many wonderful films out there, it’s hard to name just five, isn’t it? For the last one on my list, I think I’d have to pick Indiana Jones in his introductory film, Raiders of the Lost Ark, although I really love most of them. With Indy, you get a guy who can put on a tux or beat-up pants, leather jacket and old fedora and look equally great. Harrison Ford could project erudition or bravado with a charm that left you wanting more. Well, look at that succession of movies. We really did want as much of Indy as we could get and he usually didn’t fail. He would brave any kind of danger, venture into any cave or battle any villain with gusto. The only thing that made him falter – briefly – was snakes. And we all have our vulnerabilities, right? Took me years to be able to deal with spiders and wasps on my own.

So what do you think of the list? Are any of my favorites in your top five? Or ten? I think I love big action movies with great costumes and scenery. If I were going to list ten, I guess Gone With the Wind would pop up too, since the story of Rhett and Scarlett was one of the great film romances of all time, but I’ll think about that tomorrow.

Melina Morel

http://www.melinamorel.com

Keeping Mum - Dara Girard

A lot of people are planning to make 2010 their writing year and I applaud their efforts. I also have goals that I wish to accomplish this year, but there’s only one that I’ve made public (and only to my business manager). I’ve learned that sometimes there is strength in keeping a secret, especially when it comes to your creative life.

“Talking is a hydrant in the yard and writing is a faucet upstairs in the house. Opening the first takes all the pressure off the second.” Robert Frost

Over the years I’ve seen a number of writers talk the magic out of their story ideas. I’ve watched as all the enthusiasm rushes from them and disappears into the air, instead of being saved on the page. I have come to discover that talking opens onesself to the slings and arrows of well-meaning friends and associates. “Are you sure that will work?” “Didn’t (name of bestselling author) already write something like that?” “But who will want to read it?” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but don’t worry I’ve got a better one,” and so on…

I’ve learned to keep secrets and I think you could consider it too. Learn to preserve your spirit. I’ve written several stories that will never go anywhere, but I made the decision not someone else. So, as you progress through 2010 keep some things to yourself, especially your deepest inspirations, colorful plots, crazy or uniquely different characters or zany scenes. I promise you won’t regret it.

Coming February 23, 2010
Suzanne Rand of WORDS OF SEDUCTION knows a lot about keeping secrets. Find out more on my website: http://www.daragirard.com

So What do Writers Do When They're Not Writing?

Writing is an interesting business. It's seems I'm always hurry up and then waiting. If all I did was write, I'd be nuts by now. Uh, well, I'd be more nuts by now! LOL I think the trick is (at least for me) to have other things going on. So, right now I'm waiting for my February book, A ONE-OF-A-KIND FAMILY's release, and I'm working on the next book and...

What else do I do?

I have four kids.

I could end the blog right there. I mean, even as the kids get older, they still need me. And that's a lovely feeling.

I have two dogs.

I could end the blog right there. Ethel Merman and Ella Fitzgerald and I walk at least a couple miles a day. Even in the winter. Of course, yesterday's walk wasn't all walking. There was some ice so the walk involved a bit of falling, too! LOL

Speaking of snow...I live in Erie and it's January. So there's a lot of shoveling and snow-blowing that goes on! Which leads me to another activity...I split wood. Yep, just me and my maul. It's a great exercise, and it's a sort of mindless activity that leaves me a lot of time to think about whatever book I'm working on!

And I'm crafty. Not crafty in a sly fox sort of way, or stellar crafty like Martha Stewart. I'm just crafty enough to enjoy having projects. In January I took my first basket-weaving class, and I reupholstered my third chair.

I cook. And I bake. My older kids got me my own Kitchen Aid mixer for Christmas and I've been having a blast with it! How on earth did I live without one?

That sounds like a lot, but mainly it's just my attempt to distract myself from waiting for A ONE-OF-A-KIND-FAMILY to be released. I've had a lot of books released, but I find the little-kid-waiting-for-Christmas-morning never diminishes! So, if in February, you walk into a store and see a woman clutching a book and saying, "This is mine," there's a chance it's me! LOL

So, what do you all do for fun (or distraction)?

Holly

On His Knee, and Then The Ring

My first marriage was one created out of love and desire but also need and practicality, too. By the time we ended up in South Lake Tahoe standing in front of the drunken (he'd been at another wedding or two before ours) justice or Reverend or minister, my finally husband and I had a ten-month-old baby.

We hadn't the romance leading up to the wedding only the fact that we needed to have one. Both my husband and I felt trapped in something that we'd certainly created and were both unsure of what to do next or how to do it. I was excited and worried and nervous--he was depressed and unclear and concerned. As you might imagine, hilarity did not ensue. Not one aspect of the summer months of 1985 bring much good in terms of memory except my son.

Yet for more than twenty years from that August day in 1985, we made a go of it, and I never stopped believing in marriage even when ours ended, the divorce official in December 2007. Despite a great deal of acrimony at the end, I always knew that when marriage worked--when two people pulled together for one or more reasons--the bond was a good thing.

Plus, and, I never lost my belief in the mystery of it, the way two people are brought together quickly or over years--the way suddenly, someone knows that it is right, time, perfect.

And yet, it's not necessary when we are older, really. Unlike my husband and I in 1985, there is no biological imperative. There's usually some financial incentive or, at least, a great insurance plan on one end or the other. There's the desire to pull things together tightly, to show each other and the world what the relationship means. But careers and families are likely already made when two middle-aged (or older) people get married.

But let me tell you that on Christmas Eve night when I pulled a small ring box from my stocking, I was amazed and overjoyed and happy. Kneeling (yes, folks, on his knee), Michael asked me to marry him. In the box, a ring. On his knee, the man. In my heart the answer: Yes.

I've never been engaged like this before, an engagement based on only one thing, the true desire to bring our lives together. Four years of relationship and all the word means brought us to that place in the living room in front of our children and my mother.

"Yes," I said. "Yes."

I've had this idea - Sharon Kendrick

If there’s one question that every published author gets asked more than any other – this is it. Where do you get your ideas from? A bit like asking where I buy my tea from (Marks & Spencer!) or my delicious sheepskin boots (Ugg!).

But ideas – at least, the ones which we use to kick-start a story – are unpredictable and temperamental things, even though they can start out so promisingly. Sometimes they leap out at you in the proverbial light-bulb moment. Suddenly you can’t stop smiling. You have an idea! And then you start writing and gloom begins to descend as you realise that it just ain’t gonna work – sometimes for no apparent reason.

This can also happen when a first line jumps out at you. It is a beautiful thing – that perfect first line. Sometimes it is a line of hard and mean dialogue, bitten out by the hero – which perfectly encapsulates all the qualities which will at first infuriate and then gradually intoxicate the heroine. Or it may be a heartbreaking piece of narrative which will make you see right into the heroine’s soul. Or it will be a question that has you itching to know what the answer could possibly be.

And then you realise that this “perfect” first line is taking your characters and your story in a direction that is hopeless. Often to a dead-end which kills off your love-story. I recently wrote a first chapter in which the heroine accidentally (i.e. By a complete coincidence) came across the hero (a King) while he was gazing moodily out to sea. I could see the scene so clearly that it almost felt as if I was there! The chapter ended with him staring at her stonily and saying, “I doubt whether we shall meet again.”

Can you spot the error? If they happened to meet again it would be yet another coincidence (which would stretch credibility and make the plot very flimsy. As a reader, I always wonder what would happen if you took the coincidence away – would that leave you with no story at all? And if so, then that doesn’t auger very well for this once-in-a-lifetime love-affair, does it?). Also, if our powerful hero has said they won’t meet again – then won’t he look rather weak and foolish if they do?

So I had to junk the whole chapter and begin all over again. And this is a hard lesson that every writer has to learn. Sometimes, no matter how good the idea is – you have to let it go. Because something – no matter how well thought-out - which robs your story of passion and power is nothing but a very BAD IDEA!

But I’ll leave you with a thought….sometimes you get ideas in the most unexpected places. The recent heavy snowfall in England had me out crunching through the icy landscape with camera to hand. I took a photo of this lonely tree – simply because it was so lonely. And then….if you look closely – there is someone there. Who? I imagined the same tree in spring. In summer. In autumn – before the snows of winter came around once more….and then I imagined a woman waiting for a man, who never came…..and a story was born.

Where do you get your ideas from?

Sharon Kendrick

http://www.sharonkendrick.com/

New Year Resolutions - Helen Bianchin

My sincere thanks to Lee for asking me to blog.
Although it's almost the end of January, I thought I'd write about my take on New Year Resolutions.
They don't work! At least not in my neck of the woods, they don't. I try. I really do.

The writing resolutions
Around November (usually when I'm hard-pressed to meet current deadline), I vow next year is going to be different.
Yessiree. I've already purchased next year's writing calendar (9"x9") featuring a different rose for every month. Very pretty.
It holds so much promise, all shiny and new (my gorgeous Birman cat has yet to gnaw the edges in), to sit on my desk.
I even take time to mark the calendar up for next year's writing projects. Thinking time, synopsis, first chapter, draft scenes, daily progress, weekly progress. OK, add it all up ... Four months should do it. I've even factored in two extra weeks to take care of any unforeseen hiccups. Plus two weeks between finishing one book and beginning the next. Piece of cake, right?

No, actually. Somewhere between organizing the writing calendar and my estimated deadline, real life happens. And believe me, allowing two weeks for unforeseen hiccups is not enough! Most authors write in their home. There's usually a room designated as a home office. With computer, printer, phone, answering machine, fax machine, copying machine, scanner. Bookcases, credenzas, filing cabinets. It looks as if work gets done in there. There's even a clutter of paperwork and notes to prove it.

The other resolutions
Maintain a healthy lifestyle, eat well, exercise. Yes, well, I do try, most of the time. This one gets a tick .... Maybe a small tick. There's that packet of chocolate biscuits in the fridge, plus those yummy Lindt chocolates ... One a day is OK (please say yes!)

Be kind to my family. Really, I am. Ask any of them. I'm happy to hunt and gather food, prepare cook and serve same for the Italian-style family dinners we host at home on a regular basis (there are fourteen of us). Be on call to mind their children during school holidays when needed. Care for their pets when they go on holiday.

Factor in "me" time to lunch or share a movie with a friend. Another tick ... "me" time is important in which to relax, enjoy, and also it comes under the heading of "research". After all, what romance writer hasn't caught a glimpse of a gorgeous guy driving a fabulous car ...who would make a perfect hero for the next work-in-progress. Wonder if he's Greek, Italian, Spanish ... Spanish sounds good, perhaps I'll call him Raoul. Or Rafael. Mental note to write this down.

Take a holiday ... This one gets a tick occasionally. Refer to writing resolutions, then move on to paragraph two and three of other resolutions.

I'd love to hear others resolutions ... Both ideal and realistic. There is a difference! And for those of you who meet your resolutions, please tell me how you do it!.

Take care, everyone, and all the best in health, happiness and success for the current year.

The Marriage of Convenience by Caitlin Crews

I've always loved the idea of a marriage of convenience.

Not in my own life, of course, but in books. I should say, I love marriage of convenience stories. I love when a couple is forced to try to make a marriage work despite everything. It's such an excellent way to tell a story about how hard intimacy can be, how difficult it is to trust someone, and how terrifying it can be to promise "forever" to someone you may not know well at all.

The truth is that we never know everything there is to know about another person. How can we? There are pockets of the unknown in even those we know the best. People are complicated and mysterious. They keep their own counsel. They can surprise us even when we think we know exactly what they'll do in any given scenario.

In real life, you hopefully marry someone you know pretty well, or think you do. You hope you have the same goals. You hope you're moving in the same direction, together. But marriage is hard, because intimacy is hard. Learning someone else is hard, especially in a marriage, where you often find you learn the most about yourself from seeing the way you interact with your partner--and the things you learn are not necessarily shiny, happy things.

This is why I love these stories. I love the fact of the marriage of convenience, and the way it hangs over the hero and heroine and forces them to confront each other, and themselves, as they work their way toward a happily-ever-after. I love what the marriage they cannot end or walk away from does to them, how it forces them to change, to grow, to love.

These stories are over-the-top metaphors for our own relationships, our own marriages. If you could not leave, what would you do? How would you have to grow with this stranger who is now your spouse?

My debut book for Harlequin Presents is out now (not yet in the bookstores where I am, but maybe where you are?) and features my take on the marriage of convenience story. Luc Garnier is determined to have Princess Gabrielle as his wife, and her cold father agrees--but Gabrielle knows soon after the wedding that she's made a terrible mistake. How can she possibly make a marriage work with a complete stranger? Even one as compelling--and dangerous--as Luc?



I hope you'll check it out.

What are your favorite marriage of convenience stories?

Winter Reading - Tawny Weber

by Tawny Weber

Is winter reading different than summer reading?

It is for me!

Summer readings means the beach feeling (even if my toes never hit the sand). Its hot weather, long nights, skimpy clothes and a relaxed pace. Margaritas or iced tea reading. Reading on vacation. Reading by the pool. Reading on the beach and reading in the hammock. A little lazy, very smooth and mellow.

Winter reading? It feels cozier to me. Its fireside reading. Rain slashing at the windows, curled up under a blanket reading. Hot cocoa with tiny little marshmallows. Warm bodies, cold toes. Indoor reading. Reading to the beat of the windshield wipers while waiting for the kids. Hours browsing in the bookstore for weekend entertainment.

The great thing about it is while the weather changes with the months, the books work year 'round. Thick, rich historicals or dark, edgy paranormals work in the heat or the cold. Sassy, sexy contemporaries and spine tingling suspense entertain through the seasons, right? Right.

And then there's the bedtime story. Fairy tales. Not only are those suitable for year 'round reading, but they're year after year reading. Archetypal. Those stories you remember from your childhood that make you smile and sigh as an adult.

Knowing that, I almost did backflips when I had a chance to write a Blazing Bedtime Story - my own take, Blaze-style, on one of my favorite fairy tales. I chose the Frog Prince. It had all my favorite fairytale things. A princess with issues. A spoiled prince. A wicked curse. And the necessary and gratifying happily ever after.

In the case of YOU HAVE TO KISS A LOT OF FROGS my princess is the boss's daughter. My prince is a hot shot super sexy reporter with a magical touch and a very irritated witch with an axe to grind. Her curse doesn't turn the prince into an actual frog, but it sure does affect a tadpole-effect on his favorite appendage.

Even more fun is the fact that my story is keeping awesome company with a great take on Helen of Troy, in THE BODY THAT LAUNCHED A THOUSAND SHIPS! Two fun fairy tales for the price of one... now that's good reading any season, isn't it?

I'm definitely a year 'round reader, so I'm a fan of both. How about you? Do you find yourself reading more in the summer? Or the winter? And do your reading tastes change with the weather? What romance sub-genre do you find yourself picking up most often?

A little bit of fun on the side - Amanda Ashby

No, of course I'm not going to talk about what you think I'm going to talk about. For a start, I'm a married mother of two - and seriously who has the time or the energy to have anything on the side??? What I was actually referring to was my part time job at the local library. For as long as I can remember I've always wanted to work at a library (or a chocolate shop. Or a chocolate shop that doubled up as a library) and so I was thrilled when I got the weekend position working at the children/teen counter.

When I first started I thought it would be cool to get some extra money and that it might also help my writing. I also (misguidedly) imagined that I would be having long and witty chats with teenage girls about why they should read Vampire Academy and The Hunger Games. However, I quickly realized that apart from when they had to come up to the counter to pick up their Twilight reservations, teenage girls don't tend to go anywhere near librarians. Instead they skuttle around and self-issue (while sending text messages and rolling their eyes). At first I was a bit disappointed since I love teen fiction so much but after deciding to do a monthly noticeboard to keep them all posted on what's going on (and then watching with glee as they started to all reserve Vampire Academy and The Hunger Games) I soon realized that the real talkers were the pre-teens.

I'm constantly amazed at how many eleven year old boys come up to the counter determined to tell me what their favorite books are (and why. Often in graphic detail). Even better, unlike the teens who hide away, the pre-teen boys and girls love asking for recommendations and my absolute favorite part of the job is helping them discover new authors for them to love. It's a bit like playing Cupid but without all the pesky arrows!

As for whether working there has enhanced my own writing, I'm really not sure, but what it has done has really allowed me to connect back with the thing that I love most in the world - reading books and talking about books. Now, if only they would get that chocolate counter in there, it really would be the perfect part-time job...


To find out more about my books you can go to http://www.amandaashby.com/.

Grandma and the Prince Part 14

I'm a writer. I make my living with words. But even I have to admit that there are times when pictures blow words right out of the water. Read on and you'll find out exactly what I mean.

* * *

In the last installment from my Grandma El's audiotape (made in 1976), she was about to walk into the Annette Shop and apply for a job. She is 50 or 51 years old, newly widowed, and living in a small apartment with her brother Cass, his wife Arlene, and their five (yes, 5!) sons.

What follows is in her own words:

It was a small shop, very small. I walk in and there's a woman sitting on a chair by the door. It doesn't look good but I figure I'll take a look around. I went up to her and said, "How do you do? I'm here in answer to the advert in the paper."

She looks me up and down. "My husband's in the back room."

Not terribly friendly. I went into the back room. I feel very English. "How do you do?" I say to the bald little man.

"I've had three other applicants," he snaps back, "and they're coming in for an interview. What can you do for me that they can't?"

"Nothing," I say. "I have no recent experience. My husband died a year ago. I'd like to get back to work."

He begins to soften. ."I'm a funny store," he says. "I'm only open two days a week. I buy out factory extras, very good brands only, at one-third their cost. Only the best I tell you. I'm only Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Friday night and Saturday night you gotta work. Two nights nine-to-nine. One day nine-to-six. I have a little high school girl who comes in after school."

That's all. He didn't say he was going to take me on but I knew I had the job.

And it was a good thing. The extra money meant we could take the double apartment that came available over Tommy's Tavern and I could have some privacy.

Oh, the boys were devils they were. Good boys but devils. They used to play tricks on me. Bobby and Tommy put spiders in the bathtub, broke eggs on the floor. One night I came home--this isn't funny at all. I went out to New York with my friend Grace. We took Arthur Murray dance lessons, five hundred bucks, a lifetime thing. (I won first prize for the rhumba and the peabody. I love the peabody!) All widows. You go in the studio with everybody and dance. Oh, how I loved it. A man's arms around me again!

This time I went home late at night. I didn't turn on the lamp. I didn't want to wake the boys up. I'm sleeping on a cot in the corner of the room. I see a form in the bed. A man's form! I'm shocked. Guess what they did? They took two pillows and one of Uncle Cass's suits and stucks pillows in the pants and suit, put a hat on it, and put it in the bed. But it turned out it wasn't one of Cass's suits at all, it was Grandpa Bert's.

I went into the bathroom and sobbed my heart out. Cass heard me crying. I told him why. I couldn't help it. Next day my brother gave it to them. "Don't ever let me see you do anything like this again!" Arlene thought it was funny but it wasn't funny at all. Not at all.

Anyway, this new apartment comes available and I can have my own room. The new job made it possible.

So we took the apartment and we move in. I bought the maple set you have now in your kitchen. I was very happy. The kids had their rooms. Arlene converted the dining room into a den where she and Cass could be alone. Arlene still worked. She'd come home at night and she would get dinner ready. At night she would wash and iron for that whole big family. That girl did work hard! I worked until six on Friday. I'd get home twenty after, hurry up and set the table. I can still hear Cass say, "Leave something for Aunt Elsie!" You needed a boarder's reach to get your fair share.

One Saturday night Cass says to me, "Are you going to New York with Gracie?" And I told him, "Not this week." So he said why don't you come downstairs to Tommy's Tavern tonight. It was like a home away from home for all the Scots and English in the area. They would play piano and sing. Play shuffleboard and darts. We loved it. Cass sang. He had a beautiful voice. "Come on down tonight and meet the crowd," he says.

So I did. I sat there looking around. Cass was playing shuffleboard. Arlene was playing poker. Her doctor told her beer was good for her health . . . maybe too good.

Anyway Cass comes over with this very tall thin man. Nicely dressed but nothing special. "I want you to meet a very good friend of mine," Cass says to me. "He's in the same position as you, a widower. I think you two have a lot in common."

There were no sparks for me, Barbara. Not one. Les was just a very nice man in a good suit.

"Les," Cass says, "this is my sister Elsie Fuller. Elsie, this is Les Newton."

How do you do? How do you do. What can I say? Right away he fell for me. I'm not bragging. Just telling the truth. I don't know why but he did. He takes the seat next to me. Yak yak yak. He was getting it all out. Everything he thought and felt. It all came out of him in one big rush of words. And Ilistened. Very nice man but he didn't appeal to me physically.

We said goodbye and that was it for me. The next afternoon the doorbell rings. "Aunt Elsie!" one of the boys calls out. "There's a man here for you!" Arlene invites him in. He sits and talks.

"Are you doing anything?" he asks me. "Would you like to take a walk. I'll show you the neighborhood."

I told him I couldn't. I didn't want to. I had other things to do.

Monday he shows up at the store (I worked full weeks now, lots to do when the shop was closed) with roses. "I was at Bohack's buying my groceries," he says. "I found these."

There are no flowers in grocery stores! (NOTE FROM BB: of course, now there are.)

So every day he waits for me. He's everywhere. He lived right near the store, more's the pity. "Can I take you to the movies tonight?"

"Yeah, all right," I say.

"I'll pick you up at 7:30 or 8."

"Fine," I say. So we'll see a movie. And somehow it got to be a regular thing, calling me, showing up, dropping in.

One day he said, "I'll like to take you to something new. They call it a drive-in movie."

A drive-in movie? I'd heard of them but Les didn't have a car! So that night he pulls up in a big fancy Pontiac. "You have a car?" I ask him and he laughs. "I rented it for the night," he says.

So I get in the car and we drive out into the country first for dinner. The scenery in New Jersey is beautiful! The menu was the size of an encyclopedia. I ordered filet mignon because I thought I might as well get some good out of it. And he didn't turn a hair. Asked me all sorts of things. After dinner we go to the drive-in. The cars are all empty. "Where is everyone?" I ask and he laughs. "The cars aren't empty," he says. "The kids are necking. This is where they go to smooch."

He wanted to but I said, "Nothing doing! I came to watch the movie and I'm going to watch the movie."

The truth is I was going out with a few others at the time. Five men, actually. Four of them I liked physically. Bob--I met him at Tommy's Tavern too--he proposed to me and I said no. I wasn't living with Arlene and Cass any longer. I'd taken a room in a house with a girl from he store. She'd just had a baby and needed some money so I rented a room. Bob walked me home and Les showed up and he pushed Bob away. They got into a tussle. I just walked away with two guys following after me, each trying to push the other away.

"Goodbye, boys," I said at the front door and let myself in.

Turn off the tape, Barbara. [long pause] No, don't turn off the tape. You know about your Grandpa Larry and me. We had been engaged and now we weren't but there was still something there . . . something special.

* * *

Here's a photo of Grandma El (my father's mother) and Grandpa Larry (my mother's father) on Christmas Day 1952.




Here's a picture of my Grandma El and my new Grandpa Les on their wedding day. Yes, the unhappy uncomfortable-looking couple on the left are the bride and groom.



And here's a photo of Grandma El and Grandpa Larry on my wedding day in 1968 - first time they'd seen each other in about ten years. My Grandma El was single at the time. My Grandpa Larry was married to Bess, who refused to come to my wedding because "That Woman" would be there. At the time of this photo, Grandma El was 68 and Grandpa Larry was 71. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you the sparks between them could have powered a small emerging nation



* * *

I'm Barbara Bretton and you can find me here and here and also here at Tote Bags every month. Leave a comment and you might win a copy of CASTING SPELLS and LACED WITH MAGIC with my thanks for reading my Grandma's ongoing story.

This Little Piggy...

Have you noticed the trend these days to seize upon the January price markdowns to acquire those gifts that somehow failed to show up under the tree on Christmas morning? I know I've contemplated it every now and then... Kids, too, aren't immune to this desire—often lobbying for that one little thing that they didn't receive, even if they got most all they'd wished for.



This year that item was Wii Fit, which didn't Fit into our holiday budget. All in my family got plenty of lovely gifts, though, so Wii Fit would have to wait for the coffers to be replenished.

At least that's what I thought until, on the day after Christmas, we visited my brother-in-law's house and my teens became captivated by their game. Normally, kids being fixated on a video game is reason enough not to purchase it. Who wants their children to be perpetually tuned out, clamoring for the controllers, spending all waking hours in pursuit of mindless video game obsession? But Wii Fit actually has a purpose: to eliminate the sedentary nature of gaming, at least to some degree.

And this piqued my interest: if it could motivate kids to work out, might it also impel slacker middle-aged moms bored with their normal exercise routine to get off their butts and exercise more? So I struck a deal with my kids: since everyone wanted it so badly, we'd split the cost and get one as a post-holiday motivator. Which seemed like a great idea, until my sister-in-law Martha exposed the ugly truth about the game: the game platform—the Wii balance board—is actually a scale. As in: the thing that I've been hiding in my closet for years with the notion that out of sight is out of mind and thus can't be true. Denial thy name is Jenny.

Martha went on to tell me that not only does the balance board accurately and undeniably determine your weight (probably more so than the precise scales they use to glean poundage of each item loaded onto the Space Shuttle), but the higher your BMI (body mass index), the fatter you Wii "Mii" icon gets. Seriously. So to add insult to injury, you have a Tubby Tessa avatar staring back at you from the television screen. Can we get more humiliated? It's like a chase-me-beat-me workout. Or maybe that hairbrush spanking for getting a D in handwriting in second grade (not that that ever happened, mind you). To me, exercise really should not be mortifying, it should be gratifying. And a public flogging was not what I signed up for.



So my grand plans to get on board the Wii Fit train were immediately keboshed. Yet I'd already committed to spending my own cash to help buy the damned thing, which has led to all sorts of scheming on my part to circumvent this unpleasant, uh, shall we say, side effect of the game.

Fortunately necessity is still the mother of invention, especially when it comes to truths about which we choose to remain blissfully ignorant (despite those rotten harbingers of reality that are unavoidable, such as tight jeans). And I've got a plan: I'm going to make one of my kids (or perhaps one of my dogs) mount the board in my stead each time I use the game in order to get set up with the dreaded "body test," and then I will simply ignore the taunting evidence: Wii Fit telling me I've got the fitness stamina of a great-grandmother, for instance. I'll just do my thing, flap my arms, hula my hips, or whatever other silly games they have that will make me actually move, and not worry about the true number of calories burned or exact fitness level.

I felt a reprieve of guilt when I saw on Twitter a number of other women whose children had gotten Wii Fit for Christmas also trying to figure out how to outwit the scale dilemma. Clearly when evolving Wii Fit Plus into Wii Fit Plus Plus, the Nintendo engineers should consider the vanity of women world-wide and provide a way to turn off the scale temporarily, or at least, as we all do with the elliptical machine at the gym, simply lie and enter in 120 pounds when asked our weight.

Does this diminish the point to the game? Well, sort of. But can it enable me to remain cloaked in ignorance and retain some faux dignity where I so choose? You bet.

Wii Fit? No way! Wii Fat is more like it, at least if the public weigh-in is the only "weigh" to go. And in that case, this little piggy might just go wii wii wii all the way back to the gym, where I can easily lie about my weight when the exercise equipment demands an answer.