Barbara Ankrum: The Zen of Hopefulness

I have erased more words this week than I have written. Make that for two weeks. The longer my brain freezes up, the more stressed I become. Compulsively checking the internet a hundred times a day isn’t helping. The news makes my throat close up. I actually choked on an innocent sip of coffee the other day while watching the news. It’s hard to avoid, really.

I think I’ve mentioned here before how much I love gardening. (That seems like a right turn, but stay with me here.) When I was younger, I never thought much about why I gardening spoke to me. I just loved the way flowers looked in my yard. Learning to care for the rose bushes I planted, how to meticulously cut them back in winter and feed them in the spring and earn an explosion of blooms as my reward. The miracle when the Boysenberries on my back fence produced juicy berries that would fill buckets and get shared with neighbors and friends. My tomatoes graced salads all summer long beside the basil, peppers and zucchini I grew.

I squeezed in my gardening time around my writing schedule and my children, and discovered it filled my well in a way other things could not. But still, it was just something I did. I was intentional about it, but I suppose I took it for granted. I would always have a garden, right? There will always be the next planting season.

Nope. Having moved to the mid-west to be nearer our daughter and grandkids, we don’t have a garden space and now I found myself longing for one. Never more than these last couple of weeks when I realize that planting growing things is an investment in the future. A promise, if you will, that things will get better, more abundant. Even hopeful. I need that.

In the same way, the books I write are an investment in that same hopefulness. I suppose that is why we are drawn to romance, the promise of a happy ending, the hope that everything will work itself out. In my books, seeds of promise are planted and the fun is watching them grow, despite adversity. And whether we’re gardeners or writers, activists or mothers, planting hope is something we women are pretty good at. We tend to that hope in different ways, but right now, I think it’s important to remember that we are the keepers of the garden. The watchers of the blooms.

This week, I bought some fancy, imported, double Dutch tulip bulbs for my daughter’s garden (Yay! She’s willing to share!) and yesterday I put them in the ground. The bulbs were smooth and plump and ready for the cold winter to come. Bursting with promise for next spring. I fed them a little bone meal and tucked them under the soil for the winter. And one day, late next spring, they’ll surprise me. Little green buds will come pushing out of the soil. And when they bloom, I’ll remember this day I planted them with their secret promise to remind me that “Hope is a thing with feathers,” (Thanks, Emily Dickenson) or, in my case, petals.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

Barbara’s latest book, “The Cowgirl’s Christmas Wish”—a story chock full of hope and the third installment of her The Canadays of Montana series—is available now at all e-retail outlets and is available in print.

Barbara Ankrum: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like October - and a Giveaway!

October’s finally here and with it comes awesome fall weather, changing leaves in the mid-west and (Tah-dah!) my newest, shiny book from Tule Publishing, THE COWGIRL’S CHRISTMAS WISH. I’m so excited about this book, not only because it’s my very first Christmas book, (why did I wait so long??) but because my wonderful publisher gave me a beautiful cover for this book, designed by the talented Lee Hyat herself! Isn’t it gorgeous?

When I started writing this book, (the third book in my Canadays of Montana series) I only knew a couple of things. One, there would be a feather involved. Two, a reindeer. And three, there would be some mystical, Christmas-y magic afoot. Now, I don’t want to spoil the fun for you, so I hope you’ll buy it to see what I got up to with Dr. Ben Tyler and my third Canaday sister, Eve. These two were the definition of opposites attract and did not make it easy for me. But as is true with all my books, I fell truly, madly, deeply in love with them both as I wrote their story. In this one, I explore themes near and dear to me about faith, destiny and choices, and how in control of things we really are. I still find it fascinating that the things that call to me in my own life, the questions that haunt me (or sometimes, bless me) are the same ones that end up finding their way into my writing. So, when I say this was a personal kind of story, I mean the themes my characters explored really touched me and I hope they do the same for you.

THE COWGIRL’S CHRISTMAS WISH is available for presale everywhere e-books are sold and will appear on your e-reader on October 24^th! Just in time to get a little holiday escape in before the November craziness sets in. I love hearing from readers and hope you’ll let me know what you think.

Here’s a little sneak peek of my book THE COWGIRL’S CHRISTMAS WISH:

He slid his hands down her neck and bracketed her shoulders from behind, staying any intentions she might have had to ask for a kiss.  For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Didn’t say anything. As if he were trying to find some point of balance he’d lost.  Then he pressed his mouth against the side of her throat in a kiss that reached all the way to her toes.

 “I promised I wouldn’t do this,” he said against her skin, sliding his mouth up the length of her neck.

He nibbled on her earlobe and Eve felt her knees go weak.

“You did. You absolutely did.” She let her head fall back against his shoulder. Heat smoldered through her.

“With good reason,” he added, dipping his tongue into the edge of her ear.

“What reason was that again?”

His arms curled around her waist. “I can’t remember.”

“Oh, wait. Wait. It’s coming to me. We’re trying to get out, unscathed.”

“Impossible,” he said, “and, I’m thinking… highly overrated.”

“Is it?” She rested her hands on his strong forearms. “Why, again, is that?”

He turned her in his arms. “Because no one gets out unscathed. No one.”

Dropping his mouth onto hers, his kiss this time was almost nothing like the last one. This kiss was not apologetic or even tentative, but, instead, full of all the angst and craziness of the last few days. All the moments he’d looked in her eyes and admitted there was more to them than simple friendship.

His tongue plundered her mouth and she welcomed him in. She tasted the sweetness of his breath and the snow-fresh air from outside on him. But all she could think was, finally. Threading her fingers into his hair, she pulled him closer still and any space left between them vanished. No mistaking his desire for her as it pressed up against her. Dampness gathered between her legs.

No one gets out unscathed. True enough. For she could already feel her heart breaking with the hunger of his kiss.

He backed her up against the bed and together they dropped down against the mattress, her atop him. Her breasts pressed up against his chest and in this dress, she imagined she was practically indecent.

Breaking the kiss, she swallowed thickly before lifting her head to look down at him. “So,” she asked, with a small grin, “what are you saying?”

“I’m trying not to talk,” he said, still breathing hard from the kiss. “Talking just screws everything up. I’m better with my hands.”

To celebrate, I’ll give a copy of A COWGIRL’S CHRISTMAS WISH to one lucky commenter. Just tell me your favorite part of the holidays—whichever one you celebrate. Winner will be chosen at 5pm on 10/23 to give everyone a chance to enter. Please check back to see if you’ve won. Winner will have until 10/25 to respond. After that, I’ll choose another winner! Good luck!

Barbara Ankrum: Christmas is Coming!

I just finished a new book, a Christmas story for Tule Publishing Group called, THE COWGIRL’S CHRISTMAS WISH and I’m so excited for you to read it. It’s the first Christmas book I’ve ever done in my long career and, frankly, I’m not sure why it took me so long to write one. The majority was done in the middle of summer heat waves and ninety percent humidity days when the thought of conjuring Montana in snowy December required extra imagination. But with a little help from holiday music, copious Pinterest photos and wishful thinking, I’m happy to say I love the final product.

It’s no secret that Christmas stories are wildly popular. I love them myself. As I wrote this story about polar opposites, (pardon the pun!)  I began to understand why they’re so in demand. When I asked myself what I wanted to read at that time of year, the answer was “something a little magical, something a little sweeter and more romantic.” So that’s what I wrote. It’s the story of a pair of good friends who just need a little push to realize they could be so much more. This is the third book in my Canadays of Montana series.  Eve Canaday’s cup is always half-full, and Dr. Ben Tyler, who’s not a fan of Christmas, is already halfway out of town as this story begins. Together, they are enlisted to fulfill the last wish of the mother of a little four-year old girl named Lily for a magical Christmas in oh, so merry Marietta, Montana.

Anyone who knows me well, knows I’m fascinated by the unexplained, the things we take on faith. But I wanted something a little more concrete in this story, something that made my characters question the Universe’s messages to them in a way they couldn’t readily deny. I won’t spoil the fun and reveal it to you now, but suffice it to say, this little messenger from the universe does his ‘jingly’ part to turn my hero and heroine toward each other.  And wishes, made at Christmas, always stand a better chance of coming true!

THE COWGIRL’S CHRSTMAS WISH comes out October 24th, from Tule Publishing Group and is up for preorder. And can I just mention here, LEE HYAT, the owner of this very blog, designed this awesome cover for me. I could not love it more! I hope you enjoy the book and that it gets you in the mood for the holidays! Let me know how you like it!

Here’s a little taste of THE COWGIRL’S CHRISTMAS WISH:

“You were saying?” Eve said, studying her fingernail. “Something about me being absolutely right?”
Leaning against the door jamb, arms uneasily folded, Ben’s mouth curved up into a grin. “That’s right. You were.”
The grin was throwing her off. “Anything else?”
“You look real pretty without makeup.”
“Don’t you try to butter me up, Doctor Tyler.”
“Truth.”
She yawned broadly. 
“I’m serious.”
“I’m not leaving if that’s what you’re worried about. If that’s why you’re still standing at my door, flicking compliments my way.”
His gaze narrowed. 
“A deal’s a deal’s a deal,” she said. “I promised to help with Lily and I will. Besides, if you’ve decided the best thing for you to do with your life is run off to the jungles of Borneo or the Amazon or—”
“—Honduras.”
“—or Honduras, instead of staying in Marietta and facing whatever it is that’s scaring you away, a place where people actually need and care about you, then who am I to try and stop you?”
He stiffened. “Scaring me? Nothing’s scaring me away. I’m choosing to go. Of my own free will.”
A beat passed before she decided not to say what she wanted to say. “Okay. Whatever. Fine. I’m tired, Ben. I’m going to bed now. See you in the morning.”
She started to shut the door, but he stopped it with his hand, incidentally covering hers. His touch, as it always did, sent want curling through her. She stared at his fingers for a long, gathering moment before meeting his blue, blue eyes.
And without any warning, he kissed her. On the mouth. A quick, buss of his lips that happened before she could evade it.  Not that she would have. His lips were softer than she’d imagined and his kiss tasted of wine and desperation. Just a glimpse, yet she was sure she wasn’t mistaken about the desperation.  
And just when she thought he was done, he deepened the kiss, pulling her practically naked self against him. She felt her nipples grate against the fabric of her tee-shirt, pressed up against the solid wall of his chest.  She grabbed the door for balance, and then his shoulders, her breath catching in her throat. His tongue breeched the seam of her mouth and she opened to him, hungry for this taste of him.
His desire jutted against her hipbone, raw and hungry as her own. Her heart pounded and stars flickered behind her eyes. 
Kissing her. Ben was kissing her.

Barbara Ankrum: The Joys of Blueberries!

I usually write about books and writing here, but it’s August. Summer is winding down. I’m on a crazy deadline and my brain is not all there. So let’s talk about blueberries instead!

Summer is all about the fresh fruit and veggies for me. For years, I lived in California where the growing season is long and the weather is sweet. I always had a vegetable garden there, growing tomatoes and zucchini, peppers, onions and basil. My husband and I recently moved to Kansas to be closer to our daughter and her family, and adjusting to a new climate after living in California forever is…well…interesting. Let me just say, um, it’s not a dry heat.

I love all the green here though. With the drought in California, it’s been a good long time since I’ve seen so much lovely green and I’ve managed to uncover some hidden gems here, too. Like the blueberry fields outside of town where you can pick your own, fill buckets to your heart’s content. Picking your own fruit reminds me of the days when we actually understood that our food didn’t magically grow on grocery store shelves. As I went with my grandkids to harvest our little share of blueberries, I remembered doing that as a kid up in the Adirondacks, where berry bushes meandered wildly across hillsides, under pine trees and near foraging black bears. Those memories I hope to recreate with my own grandkids. Maybe you can find your own berry patch or vegetable garden to share with your kids or grandkids.

So today, I thought I’d share with you a recipe for Blueberry Pie that my family loves.  I made this one with my granddaughter after our berry picking adventure. Here it is.

2 Crust Pie Crust:

One of my secrets is to keep everything COLD. Flour in the freezer, butter or shortening COLD. Ice water to mix everything with. This helps make a flaky crust. And you definitely want a flaky crust! And mix as LITTLE as POSSIBLE. Just until your dough can be formed into a ball to roll out. (To make a one crust pie, simply cut these ingredients in half.)

2 Cups Flour + enough to roll it out on the board (maybe an extra ¼ cup.)
1 Tsp Kosher Salt
2/3 cup + 2 Tbsp. Crisco or some combo of Crisco and Butter (Crisco is awesome!)
½ (or a little more) Cup of Ice Water
(I fill a cup measure with ice to chill, then water and that’s usually just right.)

Mix together salt and flour. Add shortening and cut in with a pastry blender or two knives until pea sized. (Up to this point, you can mess as much as you want with the flour, but once you add the water, hurry up!)

Add ice water, a little at a time, (fluff with a fork) until you can form it into a ball. Not a perfect ball. It will look flaky. And don’t squeeze too hard. Just hard enough to get it to stick together. No seriously, this is critical!

Make two balls and roll out to fit your pie plate plus a little extra to flute the edges.

Filling:

5-6 Cups of Fresh Blueberries (Frozen will work, too.)
1TBSP Freshly grated Lemon rind
Juice of ½ lemon
Combine and mix with blueberries:
¾- 1 cup sugar depending on tartness of berries (I like it a bit on the tart side)
¼ C of flour (or cornstarch- I use flour)
1 Tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp of freshly grated nutmeg

Save:
¼ cup of butter, cut into small pieces.

Mix together all ingredients and pour into bottom pie crust.  Dot with Butter chunks. Cover with top pie crust (or a lattice crust is fun, too.) Make sure you cut a vent in the top crust. Bake at 400* for 40-45 minutes, or until crust begins to brown and blueberry juice bubbles up. Keep an eye on it, don’t over bake.

Voila! Blueberry Pie!  Hope you enjoy it! And while you’re indulging, pick up my latest book, RECKLESS IN LAGUNA for just $1.99. It’s a vacation in Laguna Beach and a love story all in one! http://amzn.to/2b0swBk

Here’s a little taste of RECKLESS IN LAGUNA:

Nio swallowed hard as he bent his head closer. “What about your fiancé?” His lips brushed the side of her mouth and his breath whispered against her skin. 
She blinked. “Ex. Let’s not talk about him. Pretend he doesn’t exist.” 
“Done.” He threaded his fingers into her hair at the back of her head. His kiss was soft at first, testing…tasting, even. As if he didn’t want to scare her. But then he deepened it, finding her tongue with his, slanting his mouth against hers.
His arms curled around her and he pulled her closer against those hard chest muscles she’d only glimpsed through the lens of her camera, stunning her with a stab of heat. She’d forgotten what it felt like to lose herself in a kiss like this. How a kiss could pull her under like a wave and spin her upside down. If Steven’s kisses had been a watermark she’d settled for, Nio’s was a riptide. 
She wrapped her arms around him to anchor herself because she thought she might fall if she didn’t. His back was strong and she remembered it now—the corded muscles along his spine, the slender dip of his back where it met his waist—though all of him was bigger now, more manly. She felt his hardness press up against her like an electrical charge. All the while, his tongue explored her mouth as if he were reacquainting himself with the very essence of her. And she, with him. He tasted of beer and salty air and something indefinably Nio. And she wanted more.
Even as that thought evolved, another warned her that kissing him was a mistake. Allowing herself to feel like this again, for him, was a mistake. 
With her head spinning, she pulled back from the kiss. Her breath came in shaky gulps. He let her go reluctantly, seeming equally shaken by their kiss.
“Whoa,” she murmured, pushing her hair from her eyes. “That…that was…”
“Good?”
“Yes. Good. But now that I think of it, we probably shouldn’t have.”
With his hand brushing her shoulder, he said, “Maybe you should think less and feel more.”
“Is that what you do?” She looked up at him through her lashes.
“No. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
She nodded. “I’m supposed to hate you, you know. I would, if you’d give me half the chance.”
“But you don’t.” 
“Oh, I did. Maybe I got over that,” she said. “Or maybe I just want to.”
 “I’m counting on it.” 
Above them, the clouds cleared a space in the black velvet, revealing a smattering of stars and moonlight that cast shadows around them, and the nearby ocean beat a rhythm as steady as a pulse.
“Did you ever think about me?” he asked. “All those years?”
Did she ever? Only every time she looked at another man and thought what her life might have looked like if he’d stayed and given her a chance. Only every night in the dark when she wished it was him holding her and not any other man. And only now—now that she’d tasted his kiss again and felt the things she’d felt in his arms—did she realize that she never had stopped thinking of him, comparing him to every other man she’d ever known. It was damned unfair, really, that one man could hold such power over her. She should resent him even now, but all she could do was wonder how she’d been without him for so long.
*

Barbara Ankrum: Summer Fun Facts!

July marks the beginning of the second half of the year. Vacation time. Lakes, beaches, mountains and RWA conferences. I didn’t make it to conference this year, but I definitely plan on finding some water nearby soon. You?

Summer is also the time when we take the books we’ve been piling up over the year and lose ourselves in their pages in the cool shade of a tree. Everything We Keep, by Kerry Londsdale is out in ebook format, and is one of the first ones I plan to read.  Jane Porter’s the Lost Sheenan’s Bride is high on my list, as well as Eloisa James’ latest novella A Gentleman Never Tells.  I–eh-hem—happen to have a beach read out this summer myself, but more on that later.

Since it’s too hot to think about anything too deep, I thought it might be fun to take this month’s blog and share a few things you didn’t know about me. So here goes:

1. I grew up loving animals—dogs, cats, you name it. But my big crush was on horses and my father, a closet cowboy, indulged me with riding lessons young, which only fueled my fire. I desperately wanted a horse of my own, but it wasn’t until I had graduated from high school that my parents moved to a farm in Tennessee and bought a couple of Tennessee Walkers for my younger sister and I.  Candy and I were inseparable when I wasn’t away at school or working. But on one particularly bad day, she kicked up her heels while racing up a mountain slope and tossed me off, breaking one of my vertebrae and cracking a shoulder blade. Needless to say, I was much more cautious after that and translated much of my love of horses into my books. I still, however, secretly think we (the horses and I) communicate psychically. I’m weird that way.

2. I’ve been lucky to be married to the same, sweet guy for thirty-seven years. He’s the inspiration for all of my heroes and the one who made me believe in happily ever after.

3. I wanted to be an actress for most of my young life and really wanted to star in Westerns (because…horse love). But I had babies and ended up doing commercials while raising my family. I did a few dozen national commercials, including a Hertz commercial with OJ Simpson and Jimmy Conner and one many remember, a Head and Shoulders/Girl On The Bus spot. So, yeah. I’m famous for scratching my head.

4. My husband used to be an actor and did a voice in the original Star Wars – Wedge Antilles. Kind of a major/minor character who was played physically by Irish actor Dennis Lawson, but voiced by my husband, David, because they wanted an American accent.  That job has taken him all over the world for celebrity signings—Japan, London, Boston. He originally auditioned for George Lucas for C3PO, but got the V.O. gig instead. I get to bask in his fandom now and then.

5. I have taught novel writing for almost twenty years. I started at UCLA Extension and taught privately for many years after that. The talented Laura Wright, Beth Kendrick and Jeannie Lin were a few of my students and we’re still good friends today. I love teaching.

6. I once did a past life regression in trade for some editing work. And if you believe in such things, it became clear to me that my first book ever, HOLT’S GAMBLE, an Oregon Trail book, was inspired by a past life of mine on the emigrant trail from Arkansas to Texas.  Then again, I’m a writer and I may have just made it all up under hypnosis!

Well, that’s a little about me.  Hope you all have a fabulous July/August. Until next time, hope you find some time to squeeze in my latest novella, RECKLESS IN LAGUNA, part of Kaira Rouda’s Laguna Beach Kindle World. It’s a second chance love story about two people with dark secrets who get a chance to start over in Laguna Beach and it’s only $1.99.  Needless to say, it’s a beach read!

Barbara Ankrum: Laguna Beach is Calling!

Laguna Beach is one of those places that you never forget, once you’ve been there. Tucked between Los Angeles and San Diego on the beautiful Pacific Coast, it’s a small, beachy community that has—over the years—become a must-visit every summer for Southern Californians. With its perfect waves, tide pools and touristy festivals, my family made this trip every summer. In fact, my mother-in-law had a second home in Laguna Niguel, on the cliffs above the beach and that was our price-is-right vacation for many happy years. I finished many a book manuscript there, too, all by myself.
When we first went there, thirty-something years ago (e-hem!) there were still bare hillsides not covered in red tile roofs and there was parking on the Main Street. Now, it’s a little more crowded. But no matter.  Laguna’s charm is constant and most of us are willing to brave the parking issues to loll on the beaches there.

My husband and I recently moved out of California to the mid-west, and leaving Laguna behind is one of our big regrets. So when I was invited by the lovely Kaira Rouda, author of the Laguna Nights series, to write a novella for her Laguna Beach Kindle World Series, I leapt at the chance.  RECKLESS IN LAGUNA (debuting July 7th on Amazon) gave me the opportunity to visit that awesome town in my imagination again, since I won’t make it there this summer.

The place rushed into my senses as I started to write this book: the sound of the ocean, the crimson bougainvillea spilling over every portico and blue lilies of the Nile swaying on every walkway—in short, my sense memories of the way the whole town makes me feel crashed in on me like a wave.  (A friendly, hip-deep kind of wave.)

Laguna Beach is home town for my two protagonists: Nio Reyes (the brother of Trey Reyes from my The Canadays of Montana series) the gardener’s son and who disappeared from Laguna without a word ten years ago, only to return successful, and Becca Howard, the rich girl who loved him, whose family has lost it all.  It’s a second chance at love story.  These two who were ripped apart under mysterious circumstances, are coming back together for one hot summer weekend in Laguna Beach for a friend’s wedding. Though their circumstances have changed, their feelings for each other lie just under the turbulent surfaces of their complicated lives. Can Nio make things right after breaking her heart? Will revealing the truth about what really happened finally heal both their hearts?

Here’s a little snippet of  RECKLESS IN LAGUNA for you:

Becca backed up against the restroom sink, bumping her hip, then edged toward the wall. “Nio. Wh-what are you doing in here?”
“What’s it look like? Talk to me, Becca. What’s going on?”
She straightened. “I’m fine. Nothing’s going on. You shouldn’t be in here.”
He locked the door behind him.
“Nio—”
“They can wait a minute. Don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re not. I can see that.” He took a few steps toward her, then stopped when she flinched. He held his palms up. “You’re crying.”
“No. No I’m not.” The words came out in a half-sob. Horrifyingly, snot squirted out of her nose and she clapped a hand over her face. 
A sympathetic grin twisted his mouth and he tugged a paper towel from the dispenser, handing it to her. “That’s snot exactly true, is it?” 
“Oh, God.” Against her will, she laughed and blew her nose. “How positively mortifying.”
“It was kinda charming, actually,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. 
Just that, his small touch, sent a paroxysm of longing through her. Damn him! Remember your vow to swear off men. Especially this one! She glared up at him past the paper towel. “Don’t be nice to me. It goes against everything I believe about you.”
 “Well, that is a problem,” he agreed. “I guess I need to redeem myself somehow. Let me drive you home.”
 “You forget, my fiancé is right outside those doors.” Ex. My ex-fiancé.
“Yeah.” Nio glanced back in that direction. “You don’t really want him to drive you home, do you?”
Fresh out of lies for the night, she sniffed and shook her head. She really, really didn’t.
“That’s what I thought. So splash some cold water on that beautiful face of yours and let’s get out of here.” 
 “It won’t look right. I can’t leave with you.” She swayed against the sink, feeling lightheaded. “And I definitely shouldn’t leave with you. I’m a little bit drunk, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“That’s why I’m driving. For right now, what do you say we put aside our past and whatever you feel about me and let me help you? No strings. I’ll just take you home.”
Home. The thought of prowling around that empty place tonight until she fell asleep did not appeal. In fact, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less.
“I—” she began, turning back to the mirror, “I don’t want to go home. Will you take me somewhere else?” 
He blinked. “Name it.”
“Anywhere. Where’s your car?”
“Parking lot.”
She considered, then did the exact opposite of what good sense dictated. “Give me five minutes.”
“Done.”

* * *

I hope you’ll join me on July 7, 2016 for the launch of RECKLESS IN LAGUNA. Because, hey, it never hurts to spend a little bit of your summer in Laguna Beach!

Where’s your favorite go-to place in summer? I’d love to hear. One lucky commenter will win a $10 Amazon Gift Card.

Barbara Ankrum: Conquering the Fear

Writers talk all the time about filling the well. And we all need to do it, whether we’re writing or not. Creativity does not thrive in a vacuum, so every now and then, we must leave our writerly cave (or wherever we dwell) and seek the light.

(squinting)

For me, filling the well can mean doing something I love, like gardening, hiking or reading. But often it means getting out of my comfort zone, which is my writing chair behind my computer. Twenty-five years ago, I doubt I would have called that my comfort zone, since writing was new to me then and my scary place. But now, it’s the other things I need to push myself to dabble in. I need to challenge myself all the time to do things that put me on the other side of comfortable, just to see what happens. Often, it’s something bigger that involves being brave, whether I like it or not. (If you’re a reader of mine, you might notice this very theme running through my recent books. Hmmm…)

Change is inevitable, as they say, but I seriously prefer to be leading the change in my life, rather than waiting for change to lead me. When I feel stagnant or stuck, it’s time to look outward and see what needs attention. Because something is out of balance in my life.

One year, many years ago, a friend challenged me to teach at UCLA Extension. He had some juice there and got me an offer. Me? Teach? Pffhhhht! What did I have to teach? Maybe they’ll figure out I’m a fraud!  (Am I the only one who thinks this?) I spent an entire summer quaking, laboriously writing lectures and suffering sleepless nights. How would I talk for three hours a night about…anything, much less writing? Turns out, it was fun. One of the best times of my life, the fifteen years I spent teaching. Time would fly by and my students ended up getting published, winning Golden Hearts from RWA, making the NYT lists. Best of all, I made some of the dearest friends of my life.  So what was I so worried about? That open door looked scary, but was really just an invitation to adventure.

Publishing itself is a leap of faith, sending your book out into the big bad world to be critiqued and possibly rejected. But no one will publish it if it’s under your bed, so…you send it. For years I was published in NY and there was a certain comfort in that. I loved seeing my books on shelves in real stores. But all of that changed, too. The leap into self-publishing is another giant step into the unknown. Would anyone remember me? Would they like my books?  Can I do this on my own?  Again, stepping off into that scary territory with blind faith is frightening. But why not try it? What is there to lose?

This year, it was a big move across country. After spending most of our lives in California, my husband and I moved across country to be closer to our daughter and her family. It was really a leap of faith to go, since our lives were both tied up in Hollywood. But it was also time for a change. Time to see new things, challenge ourselves and really get to know our grandkids. It’s still a pretty new change and so far, we’re happy we made it, though we miss our friends in California. <> But it feels good to be somewhere new, somewhere I don’t know every street. 

And with everything this year, the move, a new grandchild being born, my daughter’s move to a new home, I’m going to manage to get three books out this year, a personal record. My well is full.

I remember the first time I went to try to get my mail from the group mailboxes near our last home. I called my friend who’d owned the home before us to say I didn’t know which mailbox belonged to us. Which one should I stick the key into? He was a gruff Israeli who merely scoffed at my silly call. “Try them all,” he said, “what are you afraid of?”

OMG. Seriously! What was I afraid of? That the lock wouldn’t work?

That silly question has become a running joke between my husband and me. If we find ourselves fearful, or stuck, wondering which way to turn, we often repeat our friend, Yoram’s, admonition. “Try them all! What are you afraid of?”  And then we laugh and know we’ll figure it out.

I’d love to hear what you do to get outside your comfort zone and fill your personal well. Leave a comment and I’ll give away a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky commenter.

Barbara Ankrum’s latest historical western, THE RUINATION OF ESSIE SPARKS, is available at all major ebook retailers. http://amzn.to/1TjpYJK

Barbara Ankrum: Naming Characters

As an author, I get a lot of questions about process. How do I start? What’s the first thing I come up with? Plot? Conflict? Characters?

Yes.

That’s my answer. All of the above. Because all of those things are so interconnected, I usually have all three in my head as I’m thinking up a new book. Characters and character arcs factor in heavily, because I have to know where these two people are going and what they’re going to learn along the way. What’s in the way of that journey is the conflict.

But before I can start the actual writing, I need the H & H’s names. How characters look is often secondary. Names are essential to me to get a handle on character.  Sometimes, I just know them immediately. Other times, I go through lists. After I pick a name, I will scroll through photos and Internet Movie Data Base (IMDB—a movie geek site) for faces until I find the right look (that fits the name.) Mind you, this might seem like surface stuff, but it’s not. It’s all connected to character and conflict and back story and how I feel about the character.

This rule, however, can backfire on me. In a recent book I was forced to change the names of both characters three times, which—not coincidentally—also entailed rewriting the entire beginning as many times, because the name can essentially change how I think about a character and a character’s voice. And the characters (and story) were just not working for me. Oy!

Then there was the time, a couple of books ago, (I won’t divulge which one…) when I was about three-quarters of the way through, merrily typing away, and I looked at my hero’s name (as one does) and suddenly felt my heart sink. I’d been writing his name for a few months and never once did I recall that I’d actually used his name once before for another hero. (Wha—??) It was an old book, written a long time ago, granted, but still.  Two heroes with the same name would be…wrong.
For a whole day, I froze, horrified at the prospect that this guy I’d been writing all along would need a new name and the thought of changing it mid-stream is just…just…I can’t even. It was like giving my heroine a whole new guy! Not only that, I felt it might essentially change the tone of the story I was telling if I changed it then. Go on, you can think I’m crazy. I don’t mind.

I knew it would be easier for my readers to accept a different name for my hero (from the start) than it would for me to change it, mid-stream, so I decided to finish the book using the original name rather than try to change it as I was just getting to the black moment. That would allow me to continue with him emotionally without disruption. So when I finished the book, I did a soul search for a name I could fall for and after a long day of rejecting possibilities, I found one. I did a global search and replaced his name.

Moral of the story: everyone loved his name. No one thought he was weird or wrong. I even loved his name in the end and felt it added something unique to him. But I was glad I didn’t mess with him in the telling of the story. Who knows what might have happened?

But that just goes to show how delicate the process of creation is. Or the craziness of the creators! (Eh-hem…speaking only for myself, of course.)

I can still remember the names some of my favorite heroes and heroines from books I read years ago. My keepers. What are some of your all time faves?


Barbara Ankrum’s brand new historical romance, THE RUINATION OF ESSIE SPARKS—Book #2 of her Wild Western Rogues Series—hits the stands April 2, 2016!

Barbara Ankrum: Hot Alpha Sheiks And Other Tales From The Old West

I turned in a book a week or so ago, which is always cause for celebration for me.  Getting to the end of a book is like giving birth and mostly, as in childbirth, we authors tend to forget the labor pains of that last book when we start writing the next one. This one was a historical, a particularly prickly story that took me a long time to finish. Its progress was interrupted, over the course of a year, by several other book deadlines, a personal crisis, an unexpected move halfway across the country, and all the regular chaos of life.  And more than once, during that year, I felt like running away from home. No, seriously, I did. But I didn’t run.  I stayed at my keyboard and finished that story.  

The title, “The Ruination of Essie Sparks,” came to me as I was doing the head-to-desk smack over some character issue, and might just hold some clue about my conviction that Essie was going to be the death of me—or her—whichever came first.  My very alpha half-breed Cheyenne hero accidentally-on-purpose steals her from the Indian Industrial School she’s teaching at and drags her off to the wilds of Montana, where they run for their lives from the men chasing them. Essie, who is already at the end of her very frayed rope when this occurs, must choose over and over in this story: to stay or go, love or hate, to live with fear or courage.  And inevitably, I fell madly in love with both of them, thank goodness.

But in the middle of writing it this last go round, I was quite shocked to realize this was a sheik-in-disguise book set in the old west. Now, I don’t write sheiks, though some of my favorite authors, like Jane Porter, do and they’re wildly hot and alpha and loads of fun. I write both emotional, adventurous western historicals and on-the-lighter side contemporaries for Tule.  But not, specifically, sheiks. This book was, however, that same fantasy at play of being swept away from it all by some alpha male to some other place that is not your known world. Of turning the tables and shifting the power, not just in the literal relationship between the hero and heroine, but in how my heroine perceived herself in the world. Coincidentally, it was a book that I not only wanted to write, it was a book I needed to read. (I jest. There was no coincidence about it!)

As a long time mentor to new writers, I remembered the many times I’ve told my students that theme—or that underlying issue or moral of their story—is something very personal and to expect it to show up over and over in their writing. (They’re always shocked to learn this.) Theme will even show up in your reading if you’re a reader. If you go take a look at your bookshelves, you’ll probably find common themes threading through your favorite books. No doubt those themes will vary at different times in your life. At least, they do on my bookshelf. We read books, novels in particular, to feed our imaginations and often, to work out things we’re dealing with in our lives.  Romance in particular, speaks to women’s fantasies and issues, and reading is a much safer bet to resolve those than say…actually running away. And so much less complicated.

Discovering how closely this book allied with my own struggle this year also reminded me that romance serves a real purpose beyond straight entertainment (which I hope it also does.)  Romance puts up a lens through which to look at ourselves, our choices, our foibles and even our flaws and helps us put them into perspective, safely.  Romance is more than pure escapism, though yay for that! There is a good reason why the genre has such a loyal and die-hard following. If romance also gives us reason to hope that we, too, can find our own power as women, then so much the better.

How about you? Was there ever a book you read that helped you sort through something in your life? Made you feel better about your choices or just got you through your day without running away?  I’d love to hear.  One lucky commenter will win a $10 AMAZON GIFT CARD.  

The Ruination of Essie Sparks will be available for pre-order soon and will release in early March. Thanks again to Lee Hyat for so sweetly inviting me to blog here monthly this year. I look forward to getting to know you all better!

Website: www.BarbaraAnkrum.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/BarbaraAnkrum

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Barbara.ankrum.author

Barbara Ankrum: Five Lessons from 'The Martian'

It’s award season in Hollywood and I confess: I’m a movie geek. I love film and if I’m not reading or writing, I’m watching movies. Being an L.A. girl, I come from a family full of movie industry insiders going back a couple of generations and, continuing with my movie-geek son, who was just admitted into the Director’s Guild! As for me, I was an actress for many years when my kids were small and it’s no secret that acting was my first love. Then writing came along and handed me surprising control over my creative life. I ran with it and haven’t looked back.

Still, movies are my secret vice. I enjoy them, study them as storytelling vehicles, get lost in them emotionally and strive to write books that feel like them. So when “The Martian” hit the big screen, with (Golden Globe winner) Matt Damon, as Mark Wattney, I was all in.

Now let me just lay in here, that as I saw this movie, I was struggling with a lot of issues, including being behind on my word count on a current work in progress, recommitting to finishing an impossible difficult book– one whose first 150 pages I had already completely rewritten twice and still weren’t working—being on the brink of some major changes in my personal life (more on that in another post) and feeling generally overwhelmed and secretly hopeless about all of it.

In a nutshell, you have my prime reasons for escaping into a movie. 

And The Martian was pure escape: a thriller, sci-fi, man vs. nature blockbuster based on the amazing novel by Andy Weir. For me, it served, unexpectedly, as a much needed attitude adjustment.

So, for your consideration: here are five lessons I learned from Mark Wattney’s struggle to survive. Maybe it will inspire you, too, if you find yourself at the crux of challenges or change in 2016.

1.      Duck Tape Will Fix Anything

There is almost nothing that can’t be fixed with duct tape and a little sticky determination. While Wattney was struggling to survive on a hostile Mars, he improvised relentlessly, using both duct tape and his wit. If one thing didn’t work, he tried again.  He refused to give up. If he didn’t fix it, he died. High stakes, right? When I applied this to my own situation, especially that book that was killing my will to approach my keyboard, I realized it wasn’t the story that was the problem with my book. It was my reluctance to improvise and my willingness to give up the fight. I had quit before the duct tape miracle and I’d set the stakes too low.  After all, what if I was on Mars and fixing it was my only hope? (Hey, I’m a writer. I can trick myself this way!)

2.      Trust Your Own Instincts.

At every turn, Mark Wattney had to reinvent himself and reassess his situation and often take action against the best advice from the brainiacs of NASA. This reminded me that listening to the ‘experts’ who insist you that ‘you can’t’ might merely snuff your dreams. Or kill you, if you’re stuck on Mars. Who are all those ‘experts’ anyway and what do they know about how far I can go? Or you?

3.      Change Is Scary. And Necessary to Survival

Risk vs. Payoff.  Maybe the risks we take have a ceiling, artificially set by our circumstance. Sometimes, it’s easier and seems safer to stay put rather than to challenge ourselves or move forward with something new. Wattney was forced to push himself way past his comfort zone. His survival instinct drove him to do things he would never have risked on Earth.  But the alternative was slow death.  My avoidance/fear of the keyboard has only one certain outcome—the death of my writing career. (Well, if you put it that way!) To change is to adapt. Survival of the fittest, Baby!

4.      It’s Good To Have A Hobby.

All that gardening I did for years? Gold, if I get stuck on Mars without food. Or the apocalypse happens.  But Wattney was a botany genius who also dabbled in chemistry and electrical engineering, both of which helped him survive. That reminded me that while hard work and hyper-focus is good, a broader approach to my life is better. It’s important to feed the soul while doing the hard work. Writers call it filling the well. But many times, those things that I did for fun also fed my writing and life in unexpected ways.  Turns out, all that movie watching was not for nothing…

5.      Hang Onto Your Optimism

This might be the single most important element of survival in any situation. Staying positive can mean the difference between success and failure. Between striving and giving up. Staying optimistic about your chances means you love yourself enough to keep trying.

As director Alejandro González Iñárrutu (The Revenant) said, “You can do things with two emotions in your life. One is fear, the other is love. We choose love.”

Bravo to that.

Barbara Ankrum is the bestselling author of fourteen books, including her latest contemporary romance, CHOOSE ME, COWBOY, from Tule Publishing. Her bestselling western historical series, ‘Wild Western Hearts’ is available on all e-book platforms. Barbara has been twice nominated for RWA’s prestigious RITA Award. She’s the mom of two wonderful, grown children and she lives in Southern California with her sweet husband, two cats and her scruffy Toto-impersonator walking companion, Maggie. 

Barbara Ankrum: NEW YEAR’S ANGST / RESOLUTIONS

NEW YEAR’S ANGST RESOLUTIONS

First, thanks, Lee, for inviting me to blog here today. It was so sweet of you to invite me! Here, at the very end of 2014, there seemed only one thing on my mind to blog about. Oh, yes. I’m going there.

New Year’s resolutions! I’ve always been fascinated by them.  And that is to say, from a distance, watching other people make them. For many, they work. They can be great motivators, I hear. You write your goals down at the beginning of the year and check them off as you accomplish them. In a way, written goals are a good reminder of your decision to accomplish something. But to me, there’s a self-implied ‘fail’ button attached to New Year’s resolutions because they’re sort of made out of a sense of desperation. End of the year, tick-tock, another year gone and all that. 

Don’t misunderstand me. There’s nothing wrong with setting goals: big goals, smaller goals and in between goals. And I do set them all the time all throughout the year. But agreeing to terms of a rigid resolution? (I will join a gym. I will lose fifteen pounds…) If I’ve learned anything about myself, it’s that I’m stubborn. Independent. I have a knee-jerk resistance to rules. Hence…writer.

Are we talking semantics here? Possibly. Sometimes, I have to fool my own thought process that way.  Yes, I’m just that weird. Perhaps this is a product of getting older and having some hindsight into my own dismal failures when it comes to keeping resolutions. So with the intention of liberating myself from all that self-flagellation when I inevitably fail, I’ve learned to put a twist on the resolution thing by writing a grateful list, instead. This list isn’t really about all the things I think I should do or should have done but didn’t. Instead, it puts into perspective for me the things that have become really important to me over the past year.

Getting more exercise is one of those things that always makes the resolution lists. But as I take my daily two mile walk with my happy little dog, Maggie—who’s always grateful for everything—I make it a point to feel grateful that I can walk this briskly and this easily and this far. Because I know not everyone can. Feeling grateful instead of pressured inspires me to expand my routines, push myself farther. (i.e., Maybe I’ll add that next hill, just to prove that it won’t kill me!)

Spending more time with family always makes my list and it’s even more important to me now that we’re scattered to the four winds. So grateful that I have time now to do it and that I can make time in my schedule for visits with the grandbabies. I GET to.

Writing more books/writing faster is always on the list for writers. Again, after just ending a full time job where I had little time to write, I am so grateful to GET to write again. I remember that whenever I get stuck or slow down. I remember my gratitude to be able to do what I do. No pressure, just relief, really.

And because of those long hours in the chair, writing, Yoga is in my future. When I was working full time, there was a yoga studio across the street from my window at work. All day, I’d watch women come and go, wishing I was one of them. Now, (grateful) I GET to go to yoga! See what I mean? The exercise thing goes hand in hand with the writing thing. But they both come out of my gratitude list.

That’s just a sampling of what will be on my list this year. What about you? Do resolutions work for you? Or do you have to get creative with your goals? I’d love to hear and I’m grateful to have the chance to wish you a very happy and healthy 2015!  

And just for fun, I’m giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Card to get the year started out right! To enter, just tell me one thing you’re grateful for! 

Barbara Ankrum is the bestselling author of thirteen books, including her latest contemporary romance, A FAIR TO REMEMBER, from Tule Publishing. Her bestselling western historical series, ‘Wild Western Hearts’ is available on all e-book platforms. She’s been twice nominated for RWA’s prestigious RITA Award. She’s the mom of two wonderful, grown children and she lives in Southern California with her sweet husband, two cats and her scruffy Toto-impersonator walking companion, Maggie.

***Barbara's winner is Carol L.!  Please email totebag@authorsoundrelations.com with your mailing address.***