Silk & Shadows

Currently working on: Freaking out
Mood: Freaking out (Hey, it’s good to be consistent)

So I’m writing this Sunday night (due to the fact that I like to wait until the last minute; it’s not procrastination when I call it “time-lock inspiration”) and earlier today I tweeted: “2 parties last night and still home by midnight. We’re not getting older, we’re partying more efficiently.”

My oh-so-supportive twit friends laughed heartily.

And it’s true.  Oh, not just that I’m getting older.  That seems inevitable, more or less.  Worse, I’M GROWING UP!

How sad!  I actually ORDERED A SALAD for myself when I was at the last writers conference.  At home, XY always forces me to eat a salad because “it’s good for me.”  So I usually reserve vacation for an excuse not to eat salad.  But this time, I voluntarily ordered a salad.  And ate it.  And kinda liked it.

If that isn’t a symptom of growing up…

So appropriately enough this week our topic is BBQ cooking.  I went through my Cake Mix Doctors Cookbook, my box mix brownie recipes, my 8 lb. bucket o’ cookie dough options… and decided to share XY’s salad recipe.

Am I hanging my head in shame or because I suddenly fell into an age-induced nap?  Oh well, it’s a tasty salad and always gets rave reviews at BBQs.

Jessa’s XY’s “It’s Good For You” Salad

(This will feed about six people if mixed all at once. XY preps this amount but keeps the ingredients separate and mixes just enough each night for fresh salad. Yes, I know this isn’t a picture of a salad, but it’s a picture of XY and Christmas lights and the moon, which — if you squint — bears a not insignificant resemblance to the salad, honestly.)

Lettuce prep: Get a small/medium head of romaine, or equal that amount of romaine, red leaf, spinach, some arugula, or other fun greenery.

Clean the lettuce thusly (this technique will preserve the greens for a week or more if you keep it all for yourself):

1. Fill the sink with cold water and a cup of salt.  (Weird, I know.) Swish all the leaves through the water.  Pick out wilted and excessively bruised leaves.  (This is usually my job; I am not allowed to play with the knives.)

2. Empty the sink. Refill with fresh cold water.  Continue to pick out the bad leaves.

3. Empty the sink. Refill with fresh cold water and ice cubes.  Let the lettuce chill for about five minutes.

4. Drain the leaves and put them in a salad spinner.  This is crucial. Patting dry could bruise the leaves and hasten spoilage.  Plus, the salad spinner is one of the coolest technologies to come out of the space program, so use it and think of Mars.

Go through the garden. Or your local farmers market. Or the organic section at your local grocery.  Pick the good stuff, pretty stuff, or fun stuff.  But definitely get:

Scallions, one bunch
One cucumber
One carrot
Half-head of red cabbage

Also fun:
One tomato
Red pepper
Chick peas (garbanzo beans) — I don’t even like beans and these are good
Pine nuts
Edible flowers especially nasturtium — and they look nice in the garden

Extra extras:
Cheese
Olives

Chopping time:
Thin slice the lettuce and about quarter of the half cabbage into small strips, like confetti.  For lazy home salads, you can chop it however you want; but for public consumption, the confetti cut looks pretty

Finely chop the scallions. Peel and grate the carrot. Partly peel the cucumber (some of the dark green skin adds color), scoop out the seeds, slice and quarter.

Halve and slice the tomato. Dice the red pepper. Drain and pat dry the chick peas. Roast the pine nuts. (Good heavens, there are a lot of verbs in this salad.  I swear, it’s worth the work for a party, or will feed you all week.)  Shred the flowers.

Pre-party storage:
Refrigerate the lettuce separately.  The other ingredients can be grouped into sealed containers for convenience to take to the party or store in your fridge for assembly at each night’s dinner.

Dressing:
This is a “it’s good for me” salad as well as a tastes good salad, so XY does an oil and vinegar dressing.  The ratio is as follows:

1 part vinegar to 3 parts oil
XY estimates 1 second of oil poured (from a spout, not from the open bottle) for each person.  So a 6-person salad gets 6 seconds of oil (extra virgin olive oil) and 2 splashes of vinegar (red wine, balsamic, etc.).

1 pinch of salt per 2 seconds of oil
So a 6-person salad gets 3 pinches of salt

Fresh ground pepper to taste
XY is adamant the pepper must be fresh ground.  And he says don’t be shy with the pepper.

Assembly:
When the burgers are almost ready to come off the BBQ, put the lettuce in a big bowl.  Toss in the scallions and handfuls of the cabbage, carrot and cucumber until it looks pretty.  Throw in the chick peas and red pepper for visual appeal. Pour the dressing, salt and pepper, and toss well — very well to incorporate the oil and vinegar and dissolve the salt.

Decorate:
All the extras — the sliced tomato, pine nuts, cheese, olives, flower petals, etc. — can be sprinkled on top.

Yes, this is the salad that made me like salads.  Huh.  Now that I think about it, go eat cookie dough.

Do you have a favorite salad ingredient, a must-have dressing, or is lettuce merely for rabbits in your book?

My TBR pile is less of a pile and more of an ocean. It occupies one corner of my bedroom and is roughly four books wide, three books long and sixteen books tall. I know many of you have bigger TBRs, but mine makes me sad. There are so many good books that I haven’t read. And many of them are written by friends.

Sigh.

And it just keeps getting bigger. My problem is that I don’t read while I’m writing. This is because I am weak. If I allow myself to sit in a chair and bury myself in a book, I won’t have the willpower to put that book down and work on my own manuscript. I’m a slow writer, so reading when I’m on deadline inevitably leads to disaster.

Thus, I tend to read in binges between deadlines, which is what I’m doing this summer. I’m reading. A lot. But I’ve got miles to go before I’m caught up.

Who am I kidding? I’ve accepted that I’ll never be caught up—I make a trip to the bookstore at least once a month and always come home with at least one new addition, often three or four. My brother also gives me books that he’s enjoyed. And I order more books online.

I wonder if my TBR would be bigger or smaller if I had an e-reader. On one hand, a purse-sized device loaded with multiple books would allow me to read whenever I had a chance–while waiting in lines, for example. On the other, downloading new books would be addictively easy.

Anyone out there have any experience with an e-reader? Did it help you make a dent in your TBR, or only lead to a longer list of books you haven’t read?

Currently working on: Book 4 of the Marked Souls
Mood: Knucking down

First our winner from last weeks drawing of Jessica Andersen’s signed DEMONKEEPERS and an ARC of BLOOD SPELLS.  Thanks to everybody who commented, and keep an eye out.  We have lots of signed copies from the RWA conference.  Meanwhile, Random.org has selected….

 Paula R.

Congrats, Paula!  Email me at jessa at jessaslade dot com with your snail mail addy and we’ll get those books to the PO.

So the reason we have all these signed books is the annual Romance Writers of America national conference which was held at the end of July.  The huge annual meeting brings together more than 2000 of RWA’s 10,000+ members.  It’s like the best business sleepover party you’ve ever attended.  What?  You’ve never attended a business sleepover?  I’m sorry.  Romance writing rocks!

One of the reasons I love romance is that it’s primarily a women’s genre — written by women, for women.  Sure, there are men who read and write romance, but they are –the self-confident souls – few and far between.  But even the rare men at RWA (who sigh with long-suffering annoyance when the hotels turn most of the restrooms into WOMENs rooms) would, I think, agree that one of the best parts of RWA is the way the best traditional aspects of womanhood are on display to brilliant effect.

1. Nurturing
RWA’s mission statement talks about networking and advocacy and it’s so true.  Without RWA, I wouldn’t be published.  I learned the ropes, the rules and the Sekrit Handshake from these ladies, and they shared with generosity and enthusiasm.

2. Talking
Sure, it’s a sterotype that women love to talk. But boy, women like to talk. The chatting at a RWA conference rivals sea-going mammals for pitch and frequency.  I think that’s why we were at the Dolphin Hotel in Orlando. And in all that talking, you can find the answer to any question you ever had about writing. 

3. Shoes
I saw the cutest shoes — from flipflops to f-me heels — all during the conference.  Next year’s conference in New York will probably bring out the really big guns with the really high heels.  I had cute footwear too, but I can’t find any pictures to prove it.

Since this week here at Silk And Shadows, we’re talking about what we’ve learned from RWA and similar conferences, I also wanted to issue a warning as well.  I started writing in a more innocent time and now I think belonging to reputable organizations like RWA — or groups involved in whatever your passion is – is more important than ever.  With the expansion of the World Wide Web, there is more misinformation and more scammers who have ready access to eager writers, and it is terrifyingly easy for newcomers to be taken.

I have an acquaintance who came to me for writing advice, failed to follow up with any of the websites I gave her, and invested time and money in a vanity “publisher” who made her sign a contract that doesn’t guarantee any tangible results — like, oh say, a freakin’ BOOK.  Luckily, she finally did check the Preditors & Editors link I gave her and found that her “publisher” was listed as Highly Not Recommended (in orange, no less).  She feels embarrassed and discouraged, and they are already sending her vaguely threatening emails demanding more money.

Good professional organizations teach you and help you explore options to reach your goals. Great organizations give you the strength to hold out until you can make your dreams come true.  For me, RWA has been great.

If you belong to a great group — quilters, bakers, candlestick makers – give ‘em a shout-out here. Maybe someone else will see the link and find a supportive outlet for their passion. 

I’ll kick it off by suggsting the Yahoo Group for fans of the Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan for anyone with a dog with “issues.”  For the first six months of her life, my dog thought her name was “Don’t Bite.”  She was a terrible puppy.  I found this group and within another six months, she graduated to “Monster Girl” but said fondly.  Hey, that’s improvement.

Currently working on: Finishing my #RomCon free read
Mood: Scattered

First of all, congrats to fellow Silk And Shadows author Sharon Ashwood on the release of her third Dark Forgotten book, UNCHAINED!  To celebrate, this week we’re discussing what we’d like to be unchained from.

If I could sever one chain that holds me back I think I’d follow the advice of the George Clinton song:

Free your mind, and your ass will follow.

My mind is a freakishly squirrelly place.  Lots of running around.  Lots of chirping.  Lots of nuts.  (Lots of roadkill too.)  It’d be lovely to be free of it.  Not all the time, you understand, just every once and awhile.

Sometimes right before bed or right when I get up, there’s so much going through my mind that I can feel my pulse speed up, trying to keep up.  I’m going to stroke out one of these days from the excitement that’s only in my head.  I do a simple meditative exercise where I think of a candle… Flickering… flickering… And then burning down everything so all that’s left is a clean, simple, clear flow of nada.  Ahhh… 

Of course, that only works for a few minutes (sometimes long enough to fall asleep) and then the squirrel is back on the hunt — digging, leaping from tree to tree, chattering and scolding, running out into traffic…

All the racing and chirping looks like activity, but that isn’t the same thing as getting work done.  I would like to harness the power of my mind for good.  But have you ever seen a squirrel in a harness?  No.  So if I can’t harness the squirrel, at least I’d like to not be slave to the squirrel.  (That sounds like a paranormal erotica: Slave to the Were-Squirrel.) 

How about you?  Are you every carried away by your own mind?  (Hmm, I suppose a manly were-squirrel would be good for spiriting you away to his tree house.)  How do you rein in your out-of-control squirreliness?

Spring is a great time to re-evaluate. As the buds sprout into leaves on the trees and the birds chirp as they build nests, I almost always get a wonderful sense of impending … something. Call it promise, call it potential, call it what you will, but the days ahead are brimming with it. And I love that feeling.

I get inspired to eat better, exercise more, and generally savor life. Maybe it’s as easy to explain as the additional light in every day, but whatever the reason, spring creates the inspiration to renew myself. You know–turn the sod, sharpen the saw, water the garden. Mentally, of course.

How? I look for ways to improve my writing craft. Obviously, there’s plenty of ways to do that, but here are a few I’m actively doing:

1) Online workshops. I signed up for one because I’ll never know everything here is to know about the craft of writing, no matter how long I’ve been doing it.

2) Reading. I’m doing lots, in several different genres. Reading other people’s prose reminds me of the art, not the struggle. Words can be so beautiful … when they’re not my own. Well, some of mine are beautiful, too, but it’s much harder to appreciate my own work than it is to appreciate someone else’s.

3) Idea hatching. I’m thinking ahead to my next book, and I’ve got some very definite ideas about it. But before I commit myself, I like to brainstorm. Sometimes, it’s whatever comes into my head. Wild and crazy stuff. Sometimes, it’s expanding on an idea that occurred to me while I was wrapped up in my previous manuscript. Fodder for a next series, perhaps.

So many of us have challenges and issues and crises to deal with. It’s hard to hit the refresh button on ourselves, because we’re so engaged in supporting others. Do you take time out of your busy life to renew yourself, even if it’s only once a year? What sort of thing do you do?

Currently working on: Freedom from cocoa tyranny
Mood: Libre!

So I’m giving up chocolate for Lent.  As I’ve mentioned on this blog once or twice before, I’m addicted to buckets of double chocolate cookie dough. 

Eight pounds of cookie dough every month was starting to seem a little… excessive, which is not to say OBSESSIVE.  And, really, what better time of year to give up chocolate than the Easter season?

I mean, I have a perfectly fine imagination on my own.  It’s not like romance writers NEED chocolate to be inspired.

There are lots of ways to say “I love you” that don’t include theobromine.

Sure, Godiva has furnite made of chocolate.  But I didn’t make that bed, so I won’t lie in it.  Even if it would be awfully convenient from a snacking standpoint.

Think of all the time I’ll save not mixing up incredibly difficult desserts that are huge hits at picnics like the following:

• Cheap box of brownie mix (recommend Duncan Hines family size prepared to “fudgy” directions in 13×9 pan)
• Minty middle: Beat together 3 Tbl soft butter, 1 1/2 cups of powdered sugar, 1/2 tsp pure mint extract, 2 Tbl milk
• Chocolate top: 2 Tbl butter & 3/4 cup decent chocolate (recommend Trader Joe’s 1 pound bittersweet block — did I mention that buying chocolate by the pound is probably an indication of a problem?)

Nope, instead, I can sleep well knowing I’ve beaten my chocolate addiction.  Maybe it’ll be a bed of chocolate.  Yum….

Currently working on: Organizing a writing challenge for my Romance Writers of America chapter
Mood: Inspiring

Writing can be a lonely endeavor.  The stereotypical writer (okay, ME) spends a lot of time at her keyboard, mumbling to herself.  On rare occasions, she is booted — blinking mustily — into the sun to confront other people.  People like… readers.  Oh noes!  What to say?!  (This is especially terrifying to some writers — okay, ME — who will be attending in the next four months three booksignings, two conventions and a conference where there will be LOTS of readers to talk to — yikes!)

So we decided (barricaded safely behind the interwebz) that this week’s topic is “Questions we’d like to ask readers.”

And my question is “Does Liam have a great butt, or what?”

This is my second cover for the second book in The Marked Souls series.  And it was every bit as nail-gnawing exciting as waiting for the first cover.  Here’s the back cover blurb:

The war between good and evil has raged for millennia, with the Marked Souls caught in the middle, but the new girl doesn’t play by old rules…

 

Liam Niall never meant to be a leader.  Barely surviving the horrors of the Irish Potato Famine with body and soul intact, he escaped to Chicago…where he lost half his soul and gained a wayward band of demon-possessed warriors.  Now, as the talyan face a morphing evil, Liam grows weary and plagued by doubt.

 

Then a new weapon falls into his hands.  Her name is Jilly Chan.  To save his talyan and her demon-ridden soul, Liam must win her to his battle and his bed. 

 

Waging a one-woman war against the threats to the street kids she mentors, Jilly stands her ground against danger in all its guises.  She won’t be any man’s woman…or weapon.  But Liam—with his hard eyes, soft brogue and compelling hands—is a danger to her rebellious independence…and her heart.

 

These two halved souls sharing one fierce passion will sear a fresh scar across the city.  Who’s in danger now?

Book 1 had Archer’s chest.  Book 2 has Liam’s butt.  My goodness, what will Book 3 show?

That was a rhetorical question.  My real question to readers was going to be something along the lines of “How important is a great butt cover when you decide whether to pick up a book?”  But I decided that’s a dumb question (and yes, there are dumb questions) because OF COURSE a great cover is important.  Maybe not the deciding factor, but a beautiful, intriguing or shocking cover can inspire the hand to reach for it.

And most writers have zero control over the cover.  Actually, there’s a lot that the writer doesn’t have control over, like — for a completely random, not-desperately-whorish-at-all example, ahem – the importance of preording FORGED OF SHADOWS at major bookstores…

But I do have some alleged, nominal control over me, myself and I.  And I since I will have to inspire readers IN PERSON (did I mention terrifying?) my question to readers is this: 

“What do you want from authors in real life?  What makes a great author/reader interaction?”

Besides chocolate, I mean.

To sweeten the pot in a non-caloric way, I have a signed ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) of FORGED OF SHADOWS to give away.  It comes with a Pepto-pink cover similar to this font color, not Liam’s handsome butt, sorry.  Comment on any post this week for a chance to win.  Heck, comment on EVERY post this week for more chances!

And finally, a parting shot…

Currently working on: The last dash of Book 3
Mood: Breathless

I hate revising.  I understand the need for revising, in the same way I understand the need for flossing after brushing.  But I don’t have to like it.  Revising means I didn’t do it right the first time.  And I hate not doing things right the first time.

There was a School House Rock song from the 70s that shows a string of bloodless Kid Fail bloopers: spilled milk, falling off bicycles, shooting water from the water fountain up your nose.  The chorus goes like this:  “Oops, you made a mistake, that’s all.  Mistakes can happen to anyone.”

Despite the cheery tune, conciliatory message and studiously rainbow interracial casting, the sentiment irked me.  Then, like now, I found mistakes to be annoying, wasteful and embarrassing.  But — and I’m reluctant to admit this — mistakes aren’t all bad.

Mistakes are where a lot of serendipity happens. 
I made a mistake when I started writing Book 3 of the Marked Souls.  See, I sort of forgot to plot it. And I’m a die-hard plotter.  I love to plot.  I love charts and spreadsheets and workbook pages filled with plot.  But in one of my many spreadsheets, I forgot to schedule plotting into my calendar and so I never got around to it.

By the end of the first draft, Book 3 was out of control.  I had to make notes to myself on every page, notes like the following, cut and pasted from my manuscript:

• What is this clue they keep talking about?!
• Is this appropriate post coital convo??
• Did we see where the body was last time? Whose body is it?!

Going back through the pages as I revised and seeing note after note of fumbling confusion was maddening…  And really interesting.  I had no idea what would happen until it happened, and I discovered new things about my characters, my storyworld and myself as a writer.

And I won’t ever make that stupid mistake again!  But I think I will try to preserve some of the sense of mystery that kept me turning pages.

Beading and collaging have helped me accept  work with work around my hatred of mistakes.  For a long time, I had trouble beading because I just couldn’t get started.  I thought:

• I needed one of every bead in the world so I could be sure I had the right combination.
• I had to get it strung exactly right the first time. 
• I had to have an outfit that went with the beads.

Oh please.  #1, I’m never going to have one of every bead in the world.  And besides, I’d need at least two of every bead in the world so I could have matching earrings.  #2, I can just restring it if I don’t like it.  And #3, I can give the piece away as a present if it doesn’t work with my wardrobe.

Collaging (with the help of glue sniffing probably) taught me that flipping through all the world’s magazines (are we seeing a trend here?) to find exactly the right image is boooring and cutting on straight lines is for wusses.  I learned to flip, rip and stick and move along.  Sure, my collages are crooked and a little sticky (glue is every bit as messy as you remember from preschool) but they’re INSPIRING to me, and inspiration trumps correct every time.

Most importantly, mistakes are inevitable.
Knowing that I WILL make a mistake at some point, I try to cultivate a certain fatalism, even PLAN for the mistake.  I heard from a Navajo basket weaver once that the patterns in some Native American baskets are designed to include a visible flaw, because perfection belongs only to the gods.

I have no idea how true the story is, but it works for me.  Perfection belongs to the gods, and I’m just stumbling along behind, tripping over the flaws.  It takes a lot of the pressure off  

In the end, “Oops, you made a mistake, that’s all” was just the start.  Now, when the mistakes are coming fast and furious, I have my favorite mantras to get me through:

• Don’t get it right, get it written.
• We’ll fix it in post.

And lastly, a favorite quote:

• Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.
  Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert

Do you have favorite saying or quote to console yourself after a mistake?  Or is chocolate enough for you?

Currently working on: Unearthing the revised Book 3 from the rotting corpse of Book 3 — phoenix, arise!
Mood: Frankenstein-esque

It’s Valentine’s week.  If you haven’t signed up for the Silk And Shadows newsletter (look to the left side of the page) today’s the day.  Our next newsletter goes out soon and there are Valentine’s giveaways to be won.

And speaking of Valentine’s…  Will I be drummed out of the romance lovers’ league if I say aloud that I think Valentine’s Day is a crock?  In college, some women in my dorm donned black armbands on Valentine’s Day, and I wore one in solidarity.  One of my roommates (who, yes, had a boyfriend with whom she had a lovely relationship judging from the late-night noises coming from the bunk across the very tiny room) accused me of being bitter and jealous nerd.  I said, Duh.

But it seems to me that many of the traditions of Valentine’s don’t feel like any romance I’d want to have.  Roses wither in a disturbingly short period of time.  The milk chocolate bon-bons pushed on us are a poor, cheap substitute for the real deal.  At least there’re sparkly diamonds… Except now we’re told diamonds are just the blood-soaked refuse of terrible Third World conflict.

What’s a girl to do? 

Besides read a romance novel, I mean.

 What I learned from romance novels that Valentine’s Day got wrong:

1. Love is not a one-day affair.
Indeed not.  Love is at least a week-long affair with a Sicilian billionaire.  Or maybe an eternity with a vampire prince.  But definitely not a mere 24 hours in February.

2. Love means having to say… lots.
Words are the measure of the man.  Backed up with action, of course.  Lots and lots of hot action.  But I want more words than fit on 5×7 cardstock even if it has a glittered butterfly and embossed heart.  Somewhere between 200-400 pages of words should just about do it.

3. Love is sacrifice.
This one Valentine’s Day got right.  According to the story, Valentine was a saint who martyred himself for lovers.  Romance novels are all about the sacrifice the lovers make to be together.  They give up their loneliness, their distrust, their prejudices, even though sometimes giving up their lives would’ve felt easier.  And at the end, they don’t always get flowers and chocolate and sparkly jewelry, the love is a given.

Do you have a Valentine’s tradition that you adore?  Feel free to create one.  We write our own stories here.

At any other time, I’d have had a lot of fun with this topic—my first million dollars. But I confess that I’m having a harder time dreaming of fun stuff after the Haiti earthquake. Like many writers, I’m a highly empathetic person—I need to be to get into the heads of my characters and make them come to life on the page.

But that empathy is knocking me for a loop right now.

I find it all too easy to imagine what it would be like to experience the devastation Haiti is currently living through. Losing loved ones, feeling helpless and lost, desperately struggling to get food and water for my family. I’ve remained riveted to the news casts, cried over some of the video and pictures, and felt ill over the impotence of the people on the ground trying to help. The situation so terribly hard on all of the people there.

It makes me feel incredibly lucky to have the things I have (and take for granted)—fresh running water, shelter, food, and safety for my daughter.

I do love to dream, though. I believe in the power of those dreams and the importance of occasional mental escape. Life can be very hard. Overwhelming, sometimes. Dreams are a facet of hope—and hope is all some people have. Dreaming of a better life, be it a simple vision or one of being rich, can make the current situation more bearable and lead us past the grief.

Here’s to powerful dreams and a better life for all.