Blending Genres by Susan Sands

I'm currently writing a contemporary Christmas romance. Or I'm supposed to be. The other books in

the Alabama series are a blend of women's fiction and romance, which means there are other storylines and concerns within the stories. They are less firmly focused on the main couple's romance than what I'm writing this time and include many more characters and details of their lives.

With this latest work in progress, I must control the urge to stray from the couple's romance. It's like writer's attention deficit. I get distracted by all the pretty things I want to explore along the way. Like the characters who are becoming so incredibly interesting and fun. I feel compelled to give them more time on the page and explore their lives. But that's what one does in women's fiction. This is about the amazing main characters. This is a focused, deep dive into their story. Yes, there are other important people in their lives but I've got to stick to the task at hand. The word count is less, so it's imperative I get the story wrapped up by New Years.

Because this is the fifth book in the Alabama "series," it will feel similar. If I do this well enough, it's likely my readers might notice but hopefully won't mind the lack of cast members. This book will be a slightly cleaner read, not that I overdo sex and profanity. I'm having to do some editing when I let a four letter word slip from time to time on the page. Weirdly, it's a good story and honestly dang instead of damn doesn't change the context of how it reads.

In the end, I feel like this book will land in the column of mostly contemporary romance with a touch of women's fiction instead of a fifty/fifty blend. I'm hoping it's still a hit with my readers and that I gain more.

Sorry I'm late posting today! Wash your hands, everyone, and don't touch your face!

Susan

Susan Sands: We Have a Trilogy!

Forever, Alabama is out at long last!! My third in the Alabama trilogy released March 20th.

Forever, Alabama

Ben and Sabine's story was such a labor of love and I've been a little nervous about its reception with readers because of the story's slight change in feel. My books thus far have included mostly women's fiction and romance elements with a goodly dose of humor mixed in. This one began with more a feel of general fiction. Both my hero and heroine had some complex, soul-deep backstory they brought to the table that prevented the lighter coming together as a romantic couple. Their "together" takes a little longer to really take hold, but there's a lot of interesting story that occurs between them before they become an item. So far, the response has been fantastic!

Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of fun, family, and small town shenanigans here to keep the lover of small town romance tickled pink. Ben and Sabine have fantastic chemistry. Some books are, by nature, more difficult to write, and don't fit within the genre as perfectly as others.

I attending a wonderful writer's conference over the weekend and sat on several panels. I think the discussions on story, plot, and setting were more helpful to me than to the attendees. Sometimes in hashing things out with other writers, the proverbial light bulb flickers on.

Many many thanks to the Tule Publishing team for all their support and guidance in getting this book baby out into the world! And a huge thanks to Lee Hyat for her help in wrangling this fantastic cover! I greatly respect those who do the things so well that I know would challenge me far beyond my humble writing skills.

I love to connect with my readers! You can find me at the following places:

snsands@gmail.com



Susan Sands

Susan Sands: Cover Reveal

Dear Friends,

I'm so excited to share the new cover and blurb for my upcoming novel, Forever, Alabama! This

Forever, Alabama

book has been a tough one, I have to say. I've written it through busy and emotional times, so it's a victory just seeing it come to fruition.

I believe the story reflects some of the angst I've lived while writing it, so if it's slightly different, that might be the reason. Personal struggle shows up in an author's work, no matter how we try to maintain continuity. There's a little more independent character development, both with the hero and heroine. They've both got some stuff going on separate from the other. But they come together to help one another with the other's struggles and find something special together. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Be there for each other? I hope you'll give Forever, Alabama a try. 

Oh, and isn't the cover fantastic? Lee Hyat, my cover designer did a fantastic job, as did the rest of the Tule team. I can't thank them enough for the time and effort they put into helping my work out into the world.

Blurb:

Everybody loves local attorney and favorite son, Ben Laroux.  Well, at least everybody of the female persuasion–until he meets Sabine O'Connor. She loathes him and makes no secret of her feelings, even when he pours on his famous charm hoping to thank her for helping his family. Ben has never been told no, and if there's one thing he's never walked away from, it's a challenge.    Sabine hopes she’s finally found peace and safety in the small town of Ministry. She’s changed her name to escape her painful past and her shameful family secrets. Ben Laroux is a gorgeous and sexy complication she can’t afford, but also can't resist. However, when her past threatens to derail her present and future, Ben might be the only man she can trust.

I would love to connect!!

Susan

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Time to Learn How to Knit with Fur by Jenny Gardiner

            I’d like to start a grassroots campaign to make fur fashionable.

No, no, no, don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean stylish in the form of skinning unlucky animals that happen to be born with lovely coats so that I can wear their pelts in the mistaken belief the fur looks better on me than the creature that started out with it. Rather the profusion of fur that I deal with on a daily basis. I’d like to change it from my nemesis to my ally, something I don’t have to do battle with on a minute-by-minute basis. And the only way I can see achieving this is by persuading the rest of the population that a fur-filled home--and fur-coated clothing--is actually a good thing, and not a sign that you’ve given up on battling the stuff.

Fur, you see, plays a huge part in my life. I wear it (against my will) on most every article of clothing I don. It decorates every quadrant of my house in the form of gargantuan tumbleweeds that take on a life of their own when the furnace or air conditioner blows. The rugs of my car are coated in dog fur simply from being continually tracked from the house via the soles of our shoes. It gets in every nook and cranny of our furniture. Fur, it seems is inevitable. So why not make it enjoyable?

For years I’d been inured to the fur problem. With two dogs, a cat, a parrot, and now a rabbit, fur (and feathers) just seemed a fait accomplis, like leaves falling from the trees each autumn. Only instead of seasonally, daily. And indoors. And tainting everything you own with it. But then my kids hit middle school age and image mattered and all of a sudden everyone in my house was scrambling for a lint brush (none of which can ever be found when you need them).

Still, I’d resigned myself to fur being a reality of life, something you just have to accept and move on with. I continued to not bother with the lint-brush ritual. Why bother? You spend ten minutes un-sticking it from your black pants only to have the white dog come up and walk between your legs, applying a new layer anyhow. After all, I enjoy the upside of the stuff, when it’s still on the animal. Who doesn’t love to pet a soft, happy dog, or scratch an obliging cat despite the fur flying while you do so?

I grew up with Black Labradors. I’d go away to college for months at a time and still find black fur on articles of clothing. So when my family chose our first dog, we opted for yellow lab, thinking the fur would blend better. Not so much. Then we ended up with a blends-with-nature mutt in varying shades of beige, brown and red. While her fur hides quite nicely with our hardwood floors, it shows on anything we wear. Don’t let me even rant about the parrot feathers and parrot dust that cling to everything, including my white dog’s wet black nose, the telltale sign that she’s been scarfing up dropped food and, er, droppings, from around the parrot’s zone. Not a day goes by that my white Labrador doesn’t have a feather stuck to her nose.

When you think about it, after your pet shih-tzu passes, then you sorta want the fur to linger. Like the smell of a familiar loved one who has gone away, you retreat to the comfort of their presence, however you may find it.

So why can’t we designate those clumps of shed fur gathering momentum on your hardwood floors as decorative puff balls rather than nuisance filth accruing and showing proof of your housekeeping neglect?

            I sometimes wonder why an older person invests in a new pet after theirs pass on. A new kitten, for instance, is potentially a 20+ year commitment. When you’re 80, can you plan to be there for that cat for two decades? But overriding that is the pleasure that pets provide. The unconditional love, the camaraderie. It’s hard to turn your back on that, no matter your age. With our kids older and some in college, downsizing is likely on the horizon in the next couple of years for us. When pets become the main demand in your life might make sense to be the time to not include more pets once the older ones pass on.

Yet despite their mess, their hole-digging and their less-than-choice selections of what they ingest, a pet-free life is unfathomable to me. Because despite their one-sided needs and their sometimes impetuous demands, they provide so much love, so much understanding, so much unconditionality, it's impossible to conceptualize life without my furry friends.

Now if only I can figure out how to make their byproduct more desirable, I’d be good to go.

  Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

Slim to None

Anywhere But Here

Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me

Accidentally on Purpose (written as Erin Delany)

Compromising Positions (written as Erin Delany)

I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in this Relationship (I'm a contributor)

And these shorts:
Idol Worship: A Lost Week with the Weirdos and Wannabes at American Idol Auditions

The Gall of It All: And None of the Three F's Rhymes with Duck

Naked Man On Main Street

find me on Facebook: fan page
 find me on twitter here
 find me on my website

Just One Thing

 I wrote an article called Sunday Books for a magazine a few months back.  It centered around writing books of your heart.  Just One Thing was just that for me...a book of my heart.  I wrote it knowing it couldn't be pigeoned holed into a designation.  It's a romance, but it's also very much women's fiction.  It's the heroine's journey, though the hero's story is told as well.  It tells a story that has tragedy, but it also tells a story that's filled with hope and beauty.  It tells… 


Let's just say, it's a story that I longed to tell even though I knew it wouldn't fit easily into any publisher's guidelines. 

And it's been just over a month since it's been released.  I'm so thrilled that readers seem to be responding to it.

I think they can relate because almost everyone has experienced some profound loss that fundamentally alters their world.  Almost everyone understands that kind of pain.  And if we're lucky, we've all had friends who've stepped in and helped us through those dark times.  


I have a friend like that.   When we lost my mother-in-law, who was also one of my best friends, I called Lori.  She lives in Alaska now, but at the time she was living in Virginia and was on her way home from visiting Alaska.  She got off the plane in Virginia, got in her car and drove to Pennsylvania to be here.

 So I wrote a book with that kind of friend.  The kind who would throw everything aside in order to lend a shoulder.  
I wrote the book I longed to write, not sure that it would ever come out from under my 'bed.'  I was so very lucky to find editors who understood my vision and embraced the book, despite the fact it was an unusual romance. And I've been so very lucky to find so many readers who could relate to my heroine's going through.  So many who understood having a friend who had your back, offered a shoulder and kicked your butt when you needed it.

It's been a month since Just One Thing hit the shelves. For me it's been a month of just one lovely thing after another.  And I want to thank everyone who's given the story a try.  I've had so many touching emails from people who've understood, related with, and embraced Lexie and Sam's journey.

 The last month has been filled with very good moments!

Holly

Just One Thing

Talking About Talking About Writing by Jenny Gardiner

Sheesh! When I started writing novels, it was because I just kept reading books and thinking "I could do that!" After all, I was already a writer; my overwrought Christmas newsletters no doubt kept recipients on the edge of their seats each December (make that February, as I was always late with them). And my grocery lists, well, let's just say I compose a mean grocery list.


In truth, I have long been a little too fascinated with the stories of peoples' lives -- be they the sordid tales of famous people, the unfathomable actions of "what-the-hell-were-they-thinking" criminals, or the simple stories of average peoples' lives (I am so addicted to reading obituaries), I guess I'd stockpiled enough information that I was ready to make up my own characters with their own issues. Throw in a slight obsession with what motivates people, and I guess I needed to become a novelist, or a psychologist.


However, I hadn't bargained for the whole other side of writing a book, which is promoting the thing. This aspect of publishing has eclipsed the mere writing of a book over the past few years, with the growth of the internet and the vast and boundless world of social networking. Sadly, in many ways, promotion efforts by necessity dwarf writing duties. I suspect most writers would far prefer to just get to work on another book, rather than jumping through the many, many hoops of fire in order to sell the previous one. By the time I've finished writing a book, I'm sort of finished with it: I lose perspective on the story and couldn't begin to tell you if it's good, bad or indifferent. Plus I then promptly forget the names of my characters and much of the storyline. I've loved them and left them behind.


But like it or not, promotion happens. And one of the aspects of promotion with which I have a love/hate relationship is public speaking. I hate it because invariably I become slightly terrified. I suppose this is natural -- think Jan Brady having to imagine her audience at a debate in their underwear so she didn't freeze in fear. I worry that I won't say the right things, entertain my audience, and provide them with their money's worth (not that anyone is actually paying for the performance!) all while sporting a fat piece of parsley on my teeth the entire time. I guess it's not fear of public speaking so much as fear of making a fool of yourself in public. And then having it end up on Youtube.


But the reality is, I end up loving speaking to groups. Whether they're book clubs, or at conferences, or civic organizations, book festivals, writing workshops. I am comfortable with my subject matter, which I suppose would mean the contents of my vivid imagination. I could go on for hours about the weird stuff I can fantasize about if given the chance. And if I can fantasize about it, I can write about it. And I've been around long enough to know about the vagaries of the publishing industry.


I think that's the thing: by the time a writer ends up in the position of having to speak publicly, usually said writer has been through the wringer, has suffered the slings and arrows of defeat in this business, and has experienced the great good fortune and joy of being published, which in itself is almost akin to winning the lottery. I enjoy sharing my experiences with the many people who might harbor a secret desire to write and publish a book some day. And I'm thrilled to find people who have enjoyed my writing enough to put on an outfit, hop in the car, and make it to that venue where I'm speaking. It doesn't get more awesome than that. Well, maybe even more awesome when I can elicit laughter. There is something magical about being able to entertain your audience enough that you've made them forget bad things even for a second, long enough to laugh. It's a great feeling.

Ultimately I view public speaking as a real privilege, something that came about as a result of many years of toil to get to where I am professionally, to hone my craft, to learn the business, and to do any and everything required of the world to get me to where I am as a published author. It wasn't easy, but it was so worth it, every step of the way, every mistake, every misfortune that might have befallen me even, because it seasoned me enough to be able to share my experiences and my world with others.


And if I've been able to help even one writer on the path, to pay it forward by easing their way, it's all the more sweet an accomplishment.


  Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

Slim to None

Anywhere But Here

Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me

Accidentally on Purpose (written as Erin Delany)

Compromising Positions (written as Erin Delany)

I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in this Relationship (I'm a contributor)

And these shorts:
Idol Worship: A Lost Week with the Weirdos and Wannabes at American Idol Auditions

The Gall of It All: And None of the Three F's Rhymes with Duck

Naked Man On Main Street

find me on Facebook: fan page
 find me on twitter here
 find me on my website

For Your Viewing Pleasure by Jenny Gardiner

            Warning: spoiler alert.

            No, there's no actual spoiling going on here. Rather this is about spoiler alerts. And the downsides of how modern TV viewing, in which — unless you're hermetically sealed à la Bubble Boy — it's nigh impossible to either avoid finding out what happened or spill the beans to others, risking their wrath, ire and permanent reminders for all eternity about what a horrid person you are because you can't keep secrets about what happened to X, Y or Z on show A, B or C.

            We had to reluctantly watch a movie on VCR the other night. VCR? Surely you remember that relic, a cutting edge electronic device that kicked Betamax's butt in the dinosaur days of television accessories. But with all of the viewing pleasure options out there, those many devices that make our HD it's very HD-iest, it seemed nuts to have to regress from walking upright with spine erect to dragging knuckles along the dry river bed. Yet videotape became our only option if we wanted to watch something without being gouged out the wazoo, so drag them we did.

            We have an extensive VCR tape collection, all deteriorating due to the inevitable half-life of celluloid (or plastic, or whatever they're composed of). If the tapes even work, they’re practically unviewable, thanks to glitches, snags and blurred images (or is that my failing eyesight?). So incompatible with HD, in which you can detect the presence of a zit that hasn't even begun to form on the face of the most beautiful actress in the world, if you look closely enough.

            When we decide to watch something on TV, invariably, despite several hundred channels on cable, there's nothing on worth watching. Which means you go to the go-to sites in search of more options. Nine times out of ten we already have the thing on tape but who wants to compromise quality when there's much better high definition, hifalutin' options out there? Then we start the rounds, to find somewhere, anywhere, where we aren't gouged into paying for something we could watch for free if only we could remember how to operate the VCR with the seven plus remotes we juggle (and of course the volume never seems to be controllable but for actually standing up and physically managing it — ditto the pause button — a real nuisance for couch potatoes).

            We visit Netflix first, considering we're paying for a subscription to watch all sorts of things for "free" (despite that subscription price), yet it seems whatever we want to watch is never free. It could be a lousy B-movie from the 70's, say, John Travolta's compellingly-acted The Boy in the Plastic Bubble, or maybe Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster, and yet for some reason it still costs money, even though we are likely the only viewers on the planet left wanting to watch it.

            Next it's Amazon Prime, because hey, we belong, dammit. We're supposed to get something for nothing! But never is it free there, either. Nowhere is that lame, lone movie available for free. Even though that VHS tape for which we likely paid thirty bucks twenty years ago is lying in wait in my dusty closet, offering up its retired services for absolutely nothing! But no, we want quality (besides which, I feel like if you ponied up that much for the original there ought to be some quid pro quo for use of the improved version of such). It's on to Blu-ray, Roku, Apple TV, Hulu, Hulu Plus (paying yet more), even Youtube, god forbid (but we've done it, when all that's available is a bootleg version of something unavailable even for purchase elsewhere).

            The film we wanted for free? Revenge of the Pink Panther, from circa before fire was invented I think. I would bet that not one other person in this universe had the need to watch that movie that night, yet all sources were demanding blood ransom for it, for something that ought to by now be considered part of the public domain. If my books are free on Google without my permission, then why isn't Peter Sellers? In fact I would think if there is even a star alive left from that film, he or she would be grateful we were resurrecting it from the grave (for which, by the way, it is imminently worth resurrecting). Does free TV exist anymore, except if you have to sacrifice your eyesight — and viewing pleasure — by watching the old timey low-fi versions, with quality so lacking you might want to watch with magnifying glasses?

            Now there are other downsides to all these newfangled viewing options: take for example binge-watching, and all those pay programs to which too many of us get addicted but are watching on entirely different schedules. Used to be various nights of the week were "must see TV" nights. Collectively we all watched to see who shot that annoying JR. Together we bade farewell to Hawkeye and the gang, and if we missed it, well, be sure you plan your summer vacation around the re-run, which would air in mid-July when there was quite nothing worth watching on TV and the airwaves were taken up with a lot of very boring golf programming on weekends, and embarrassingly bad movies-of-the-week starring Burt Reynolds or worse still Karen Black, on weeknights. Daytime was the domain of lousy soap operas and game shows starring flamboyant-yet-washed-up-celebrities.

            But now, you watch it, you don't dare discuss it, for fear of being The Spoiler. Everyone hates The Spoiler, the one who ruins it by disclosing the denouement, rendering it purposeless for the rest of us to bother watching the show, even if we do pay too damned much for that HBO subscription and want to maximize our expenditure by watching every episode of everything on that network come hell or high water.

            In my house, we have the compounded problem of kids coming home over break and binge-watching a show we've not seen entirely, so it's blasting on the screen in the living room by day, sending those who aren't caught up on season five to another section of the house to avoid spoilage. Worse still it's a show I wouldn't dream of watching — some kitschy drama or a gory zombie series — and I'm stuck with it blaring in the background while I try to write. If you want to be around your kids at all during their brief respites home, potentially lousy TV programming comes with the territory. Oh and then you have each kid watching it at a different time while you're there, so you have to avoid repeated episodes. The flip side of them being away is that sometimes we've seen the show, and they've not. If we dare let slip the outcomes, well, we'll have to live with the consequences. Tougher still was our own binging of Breaking Bad, the crystal meth of TV shows. With but a few remaining episodes to watch, the kids returned for a lengthy holiday break, which meant no Breaking Bad for over a week. I practically needed rehab to break my addiction.

            I am troubled that better television is becoming the venue of the haves, versus the have-nots. If you can pay for it, you get to see the great award-winning program series, otherwise you're stuck with reruns of What's Happenin' on TNT. That's if you can afford cable. If not, you're totally at the mercy of network re-runs of Two and a Half Men, for which I collectively apologize.

            It's enough to send me to a movie theater. But then again, once you tally up the cost of tickets and popcorn, maybe I should just head out to my favorite restaurant and find my entertainment there instead — no doubt it'll be cheaper.

Slim to None

Anywhere But Here

Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me

Accidentally on Purpose (written as Erin Delany)

Compromising Positions (written as Erin Delany)

I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in this Relationship (I'm a contributor)

And these shorts:
Idol Worship: A Lost Week with the Weirdos and Wannabes at American Idol Auditions

The Gall of It All: And None of the Three F's Rhymes with Duck

Naked Man On Main Street

find me on Facebook: fan page
 find me on twitter here
 find me on my website