Alison Kent's Blah Blog

There has been way too much bird hanky-panky going on in the backyard today as well as too much Petey distraction. Fortunately, the temperature today has been no more than ninety, making for a very comfortable outdoor writing experience. Yes, I have a shade tree, a box fan, and a Diet Cherry 7Up to help in that regard.

And having another Monday vacation day has made for another long and creatively productive (so far, so good!) weekend. And then there is the Friday holiday coming up as well, so this will be a nice and easy (I hope!) three-day work week. Since it’s only 2:50 and I’ve only managed about 4 pages today, I’m not feeling particularly spunky. Definitely not as spunky as the male birds chasing the unwilling females through the trees, up into the branches, down to the yard. I hate to break the bad news, but the girls ain’t giving it up. Still, I’ve done heavy polishing edits to five chapters and that feels really good, giving a better cohesiveness to the story.

Oh, watched a really cute older movie last weekend, Dancer, Texas. Totally character-driven and a tad slow, but some very brilliant tidbits in showing character. The sort of stuff that real revs my character motor. I’m sure I’ll find myself borrowing freely down the road somewhere and never remembering where I got the Post-It Note idea. Oh, wasn’t it Elizabeth Shue who also used Post-It Notes in The Saint? See, it’s hardly original, but fun to see used. (As an aside, my favorite Elizabeth Shue movie is Adventures In Babysitting.)

Petey has been channeling Kermit today. “It’s not easy being green.” His pond needed to be de-algaefied. So, the hubby does the cleaning thing and next thing we know, Petey is gone! Again! Argh! Thank goodness we have Smith, Turtle Hunter Extraordinaire. He found the danged escapee on the other side of the yard and quite summarily put his foot down – directly on Petey’s shell!

Hokey Pokey Shakespeare

In Lover’s Paradise

I couldn’t help it. Even knowing it was a rerun, tonight I had to watch Alias. I am still amazed how I’m so sucked in. And now that the show is in reruns, I can watch and learn. I was taking character notes tonight, getting ready to write my Brava series!

This morning I spent two hours chasing down work shoes with my daughter who started a new job this week. She can wear most all the funky stuff in her wardrobe – with the exception of her Imelda Marcos collection of open-toed shoes. Well, try finding closed toe shoes that are funky enough for her fashion sense in the middle of June.

Okay. It’s time to crack down and get serious. I need to finish Indiscreet over the July 4th holiday weekend. Which means a whole lotta pages to be done between now and then. If you don’t see me here but for quick drive-by updates, that will be the reason. In the meantime, I’m sure spending time with 896 pages of HPATOOTP would be worthwhile. Or with 591 pages of Penelope Williamson’s HEART OF THE WEST. Maybe with 496 pages of LaVyrle Spencer’s BITTERSWEET. Even with 1168 pages of Stephen King’s THE STAND.

I asked my husband yesterday after watching Elizabeth Vargas interview Johnny Depp, if we could move to the South of France and grow old and mellow, too. He said no, so I offered Tuscany as an alternative. I’m thinking the best I’m going to get is far West Texas. Maybe Big Bend. Can’t say that would be my idea of mellowing. More like being chicken-fried.

So, my friend Jill Shalvis often writes on her backyard deck, as I do on my patio. I watch Petey and the squirrels and the birds. She watches other animals – such as lost black bear cubs.

This morning I glanced across a section of the yard near the patio where the grass grows in patches due to the lack of sunlight ekeing through the branches of our monstrous Arizona Ash. (Trashy tree, but as full as a big spreading oak.) The sun was just coming up, so droplets of dew still clung to the grass. They clung singularly, to individual blades, and the whole scene appeared mystical, the droplets almost yellow, as if they were tiny lanterns hanging on drooping lightposts to brighten tiny paths beneath. Hubby took pictures, but I’m not sure yet if he was able to capture what I saw. My silly imagination ran wild creating a small world of faeries flitting about lighting the droplet lanterns.

BTW, my son’s cell phone rings with Devo’s WHIP IT.

I’m seriously wondering if there is such a thing as adult onset ADHD or if I’m simply suffering such severe stress and burn-out that it’s manifesting this way. I have zero ability to concentrate it seems. I’m able to manage about a page before I have to Go And Do. Anything. Check the laundry. Get a drink. Do an update to my website – or to one of the others I maintain. (Methinks medoth too much – but as my buddy Kristin Hardy reminded me recently, the busiest person around is the best one to ask when something needs to be done.)

That said, my compartmentalizing abilities are rapidly failing until my brain feels like melted goo, one thing after anoth bubbling to the top, popping loudly enough to set me into motion to get it done. I want my old brain back.

Night before last I was exhausted but antsy when I went to bed. The hubby wasn’t quite yet ready to sleep and was, in fact, starting a reread of HP&TGOF to prepare to dive into the 896 pages of HP&TOOTP. It was great. He read to me. He has the best reading voice–or maybe it’s just his voice, period, as I’ve been known to doze off when he’s talking. Bwah!

I have to say it feels really good to have finished up the last bit of editing business on Wicked Games and being back to writing on Indiscreet. I stopped to do a few revisions to the early chapters in order to get them to my editor. I hate having to stop the flow of inspired writing to do grunt work. And nitpicky self-editing truly is that. A word change here, a tense change there. I’m never satisfied and could self-edit into infinity if given the time.

I saw a paperweight this weekend in the Marshall Field’s gift catalog engraved with this sentiment: The ultimate inspiration is the deadline.

I have to laugh. CNN.com this week had the story of David Beckham leaving Manchester United and signing with Real Madrid. There’s a gallery selection of photos featuring his ever-changing hairstyles. David Beckham is also currently featured as my hero for Indiscreet.

I need to get back to Finding Nemo’s hero’s journey, but I’ve been swamped this week discussing point of view. Maybe I’ll write up an article on pov one day . . .

I’ve also been busy choosing photos to use for my upcoming Brava heroes. I always start my stories by naming my characters. I suppose that makes sense as I write character-driven stories. Once I have names that work, I go in search of visual aids. I never use photos of actors or musicians, etc. Were I to do that, I’d see the celebrity and not my character. No, I use magazine ads for the most part. (Except in the case of David Beckham, and Macy Webb who is actually Ani DiFranco. Thing is, neither of them are familiar in looks as much as in name, so I can easily make them my people.) GQ is my favorite place to find my heroes.

Another thing with which I have fun is giving my characters cars. Yes, cars. (Can’t have this fun writing histericals, hehe!) It’s like a defining part of their personality, what they drive. Chloe scoots around in a lime green VW Beetle, while Eric drives a black Mustang with personalized plates that say Half-Time. Lauren drove an anonymous SUV and Kinsey drives a VUE (Saturn’s SUV.) Jessie Buchannan, my heroine in A Blue Christmas, drives an electric blue Mercedes Kompressor, and Melanie Craine drives an Infiniti G35. Her honey, Jacob, drives a black Ford Sport-Trac. I put Doug Storey in a flashy new Nissan 350Z and Ray Coffey in a big American-made pick-up.

Patrick Coffey, renegade soul, will eventually drive a rebuilt classic El Camino with a nice long leather bench seat, ha!

Take a guess what Annabel “Poe” Lee drives!

To be totally clear on the subject, turtles are not warm cuddly pets.

The humidity today has been pretty miserable since we’ve been deluged this week with summer thunderstorms and tornadic activity. I had to dry off my Adirondack chair before I could venture outside today to write. I usually last until around 2:00, then have to retreat into the air-conditioned indoors. Long live Freon.

Made a run last evening to my fave produce market. Long live Sandy’s! It was a trip of mixed feelings. I can’t eat a lot of fruit because the sugars affect my blood pressure (as a quick trip to the doctor yesterday confirmed YET again), and the summer berries were everywhere. Sniff. Did, however, load up on oodles of fresh veggies and even picked up a loaf of a new low-carb savory herb bread. Can we say heaven? And ditto to the wonderful Southwest Chicken Big Bowl Salad (sans tortilla strips) I had for lunch at Fuddruckers after the visit to the doc.

One thing the produce market has added since our last visit is antiques. Yes, antiques. Made it hard to leave the store with nothing more than summer squash and green beans. One thing I would’ve given way too much money to have was a birdcage designed like the Taj Mahal. Just the most extraordinary and fun piece imaginable.

Oh, and I know I’m food obsessed, by my husband found me the most amazing olive salsa!

I love talking about writing and do so regularly in the Blaze Boudoir at the eHarlequin community. It is so interesting to me to see how authors writing for the same line approach storytelling and craft so differently. So individually. That uniqueness, of course, gives our books their own flavor. And I really think that Blaze showcases a variety of voices more than any other Harlequin line.

My totally unscientific, uneducated hypothesis is based solely on thirteen years of writing and ten years as a published author. Wow. Hard to believe my first book came out in August 1993.

In writing Indiscreet, I’m learning a lot about revealing backstory. My hero has the most complicated history of any character I’ve previously written. And it’s history that plays out in the story’s plot and that readers have written wanting to know. (Oooh, did that give too much away as to the identity of Poe’s hero?)

When I created this backstory three books ago, I wasn’t sure what I would do with this character if anything. I did, in fact, have to change my original ending of Bound to Happen as my editor at the time (sniff, I miss Susan) didn’t want the focus of The End to be anywhere but on Sydney Ford and Ray Coffey.

So, I left the fate of this other character hanging. And now I’m having to figure and outline those details. It’s been a challenge, but it’s also been a good time. I just hope it translates well in book form.

Speaking of book form, I’m just about halfway through reading my galleys for Wicked Games. I’ll have to put up an excerpt soon.

I guess that’s it for today. I’ve only written 3 pages and have procrastinated far too long. Besides, Petey is getting lonely . . .

BOY ‘PREGNANT’ WITH HIS OWN TWIN BROTHER