Aphrodisia Authors :: Blog

Many thanks to Phil for seeing his shadow last week, and to Neale Donald Walsch for his Groundhog Day’s message, which included the thought: “…you should hope to see your shadow today…For when the shadow side of you is seen, embraced, and loved, your healing has begun for sure.”

It occurred to me that this could be another tool for motivating our characters—so if your tried-and-true chisels feel a little dull lately, explore these ideas with me! Comment with some of your own! Because if you know what casts the shadows over your characters—what “evil” or other beasties lurk in their hearts and pasts—you can figure out how to heal them throughout a gratifying story arc to emerge into light at its end! (Or maybe they don’t want to be healed! Now, there’s the story I’d probably rather tell!)

Play “What If–” with me here (I’m on a March 1 deadline, so games sound soooo tempting right now!), and the person who submits the comment I find most thought-provoking wins any book on either of my websites.

What If…

1) your heroine secretly had an abortion when she was younger, and can’t tell her husband…fears it might be the reason she can’t conceive? Or she fears marrying a wonderful man because he wants children, and she’s already “thrown one away.”

2) your hero bullied/dared his friend to do something that maimed him (or even led to his death)…can’t forgive himself after all these years.

3) your character believes things about him/herself because a parent labeled him/her that way from early childhood? Always lived down to that self-fulfilling prophesy, or used it as an excuse not to aspire higher.

4) your characters engaged in illicit/illegal activities in college that have come back to bite them as they apply for jobs, get married, etc.? What if somebody in their circle turns informant?

5) your parents concealed very important information about your birth/adoption and you find out about it from a total stranger years later?

6) Your hero/heroine has built a life/career based on a lie but sees no reason to come clean? (does not want to be “healed”) Who gets hurt along the way? Who has built a life around this person and then discovers his/her own life has been a lie, too?

7) your character’s career—or life—is about to end and another character knows secret information that could save him? Will he/she share the secret? What if there’s a compelling reason not to?

No doubt you can come up with better what-ifs! And I’d love to see them—and perhaps other writers who are in a stall pattern with a story will find just the right kick-start here to remotivate an entire book! We’ve all had stories and characters (and moods and psyches) that need to be fixed!

But now, who’s your “healer” and how does he/she go about rescuing the whole situation? And what if he/she decides it’s not worth the risk?

Delve into those characters’ shadows! And yes, the shadows I mentioned above have belonged to me or to folks I know—or characters who’ve held me spellbound—so indeed, real life is always stranger…darker and more shadowy than fiction! (And indeed, the darkest, most shadowy time is right before your unfinished manuscript is due on your editor’s desk!)

Thanks for playing along today!

I have an addiction. It’s terrible. When I go too long (like more than 18 hours) without it, I start Jonesing. I get irritable. I can think only about getting more, getting more now. Dishes go undone. Beds go unmade. Dinner goes uncooked. I loose weight and get that haggard expression.

My addiction is not normal. It’s not martinis or cigarettes. Not even crack. It’s WoW. World of Warcraft.

It’s not new. The game, I mean. My addiction is. At least to this game. See, when I saw the box and the demo, I forbade it from my house. I knew. I knew what would happen to me, and it’s not pretty. But it sneaked in when I thought I was strong enough to handle just one hit. I wasn’t.

I am a gamer addict.

Addictions are well known to have a genetic component. Mine is no different. I got it from my Dad.

When I was a kid, my parents bought my sister and me the TI version of PacMan. It was called MunchMan. (Maybe that’s why I write such steamy scenes in my books?) I would play and get a high score. My dad would see that. He’d play until he beat my score. Then I’d play until I beat his score. This went on for months. And then one day I sat down and flipped the entire set of screens not once, not twice, but three times. I had the highest score anyone could imagine.

My dad stayed up until four in the morning trying to beat that score. He couldn’t. I think he tried a few more times, but he never beat it. When I was in college, I gave him a Nintendo with Sonic Hedgehog. It nearly caused his second wife to divorce him.

And then came Tetris. I played it on the Mac. When I was supposed to be working. I played it like a crack addict smokes her pipe. I had the highest score of anyone I knew. I knew a bunch of graduate students who played. My score blew them away. I went to a wedding and the bride and groom put me at a table with a bunch of graduate students from MIT. One guy there was called The Fong Unit. His friends were in awe of his massive (um) score (again, um). When he asked what my score was, he couldn’t believe it. I’d beaten him by hundreds of thousands.

“What platform?” he asked. His friends craned to hear. Maybe I was playing on a slower machine.

“SE-30,” I said. It was a fast machine, even for geeks at MIT.

The geeks fell at my feet in worship. Of course, maybe it was the champagne at the wedding, now that I think of it.

And then came WoW. I might never leave.

World of Warcraft is worse than MuchMan and Tetris, at least in a addict’s sense. It’s not a game so much as it’s a world. You make a character. You fight bad guys (or good guys if you decide to be a bad guy). You meet up with your friends. Everyone looks sexy. Everyone has nice pets and big (um) swords. The fantasy writer in me loves it. (I wonder if I can write off the time I spend there. Note to self: ask accountant.) Pretty colors. Quests. Drama. Yum.

But here’s the killer. My SO is better than me at the damned game. He’s a Night Elf Hunter with a pet. Her name is Polly. There’s almost no monster he can’t kill.

Me? I’m a Night Elf Druid. I can shift shape (yey!) between tiger, whale (or manatee, but that is so not sexy–of course, neither is a whale, now that I think of it. Maybe it’s a dolphin. Yeah. It’s a dolphin). No matter what I do, he’s a level or sometimes two higher than me. (It turns out that arrows are better for killing than all my magic spells.)

But the names of the Druid’s spell! Moonfire! Starfire! Wrath! Fairie Fire! So cool! “I will slay you with my Wrath!” I say, in elf form. And I do.

Only I die. A lot. Unless I’m with a bunch of sexy rogues. Or warriors. Or hunters. Even the priests are okay. At least they can bring me back from the dead.

So if you see a Night Elf named Esminet in the Ashenvale area, say hi. Or blow me a kiss. (I named her after my heroine from Moon Shadow. I wanted to name her Esmenet, which was my heroine’s actual name, but it was taken. I hope that means someone else named their character after the heroine in my book!)

Okay. I gotta go. I know it’s late and I’ve already played for four hours tonight, but I’ve got just this one last quest. Then I’ll stop. I promise.

******

So for today’s giveaway, I’ve got a copy of SHE. (I love this book!) I also have a copy of THE SUPPLICANT. Leave a comment and I’ll pick a random winner on Wednesday.

SWAK,
Lucinda

Last month, I asked about what readers want to read on blogs. I got some incredibly thoughtful responses and I’d like to thank you all again.

Not only have you helped me, but some of the other Aphrodisia authors were paying attention, too.

Funny, I re-read my post yesterday and saw a goal I have for this year. That is to limit my time on the net. To dedicate myself to finding balance in my life.

That means writing balanced with exercise, healthy lifestyle choices and internet time. I’ve done well with exercise and choices and writing time.

But the internet’s an ongoing challenge. I find myself wandering around looking at other writer’s sites, to see where I could improve my own.

Now, I’ve gone to sites and been put on newsletter lists without signing up. To my mind, this is an aggravating practice. Not everyone who visits a site wants their inbox full of newsletters. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the ones I really dislike are the ones where you have to jump through hoops to unsubscribe. They bother me because I often wonder who else is gathering my contact information just because I’m unsubbing. It’s a vicious cycle!

Not to mention the fact that I wonder if I look unfriendly by unsubscribing. The whole thing puts me off. And do I have time for all this hoop jumping? NO!

Cranky much, Bonnie? Some days, yes.

And finally here’s my question: Do readers really want newsletters? And how often? And if you like them, what is it you want from them? The contests? Or the information? If you like newsletters, how do you feel about group author newsletters. Or do you prefer individual author newsletters?

Naturally, I’ll bribe you with the chance to win a release of mine from my choice list of books at www.bonnieedwards.com So, give me your thoughts and I’ll pick a random winner of the book of their choice. I’ll announce the winner on Monday February 9 in the comments here.

I’ve had some really interesting things happen this past month—my husband has been working on the family genealogy, and in the course of his search for family records has not only discovered a whole bunch of first cousins I’ve never met, but he’s unearthed an entirely new heritage for me! I grew up believing my father was of European descent, but Dad never discussed his past and we didn’t know any details. Enter my spouse and the era of the Internet, and there are no longer any secrets!

His detective work led him to an obituary that led to an address for a cousin whose name I recognized. I gave that information to my brother who managed to find a phone number. Brother David called our cousin and once contact was made, all kinds of information came to light…for one thing, my last name. I grew up as Dent, and it should have been Trelisky!

I remember my dad talking about going to the Baptist church—he was born and raised in Memphis, Tennessee. For whatever reason, we’ve discovered he neglected to tell us he—and we—are Russian Jews. His father and mother emigrated to this country in 1905, coming through Ellis Island with so many other Eastern Europeans. My brothers and I have been in contact now with four of our cousins and it’s been absolutely fascinating to hear about their lives and the fact they’ve all grown up Jewish, while we lived our lives totally ignorant of that part of our background.

Of course we’re all curious now as to why Dad didn’t discuss his heritage—even my mother claims she never knew—and of course we’ll never be able to find out the real truth. We were raised in a home where discrimination of any form was not tolerated—whether it was racial, religious, gender or whatever, yet we were never told about our background. It just boggles the mind! The really neat thing, though, is that my husband was able to find out as much as he did while our cousins are still alive and we’re able to at least answer some of the many questions we’ve had over the years. Family history is so important, and I’m glad we’ve got this much to pass on to our children and our grandchildren. I grew up with a huge void in my personal history, but at least our children and their children know who we are and more about where we came from.

Have you ever had what you thought to be true turn out to be something totally different? I’d love to hear your stories!

***Be sure to check my blog tomorrow for the winner announcement!***

Due to a scheduling glitch, I find myself playing host to two loops today. So, I’m inviting you to learn about the inspiration for the opening scene for my new book, coming out February 24th, and then asking you to join me at the Access Romance blog to read the excerpt. And since I’m asking you to follow me there, I’m offering a bribe! But you’ll have to read to the bottom of this post to find out the juicy details!

Last spring, just before I began writing Texas Men, I struggled with coming up with a concept for the opening. Openings are important for a book because you want to grab a reader’s attention from the very start so they don’t close the book and put it back on the shelf.

A friend of mine who lives in Hot Springs, Arkansas invited Shayla Kersten and myself to attend a charity bachelor auction. I knew it would be fun—I didn’t know the experience would write that opening scene all by itself.

We arrived at the hall, stood in line with a couple hundred women, some dressed to the “nines,” paid our entrance fee and received strings of Mardi Gras beads and paddles with a  plumbing company’s logo pasted on them. We took seats at a pizza-sized round table and waited for the hunks to entertain us.

I said hunks, right? Ahem. A few of them were actually attractive. Not a one of them could dance, but most tried a bump and grind as they strutted across the stage. Some looked to be in excrutiating pain, but maybe that was just how they look naturally when they have to dance in front of a crowd of screaming, laughing women.

The room was so ripe with sexual tension and energy that I pulled out my notepad and began to write. Eight pidgeon-scratched pages later, I had my opening scene, complete with dialogue, thanks in great part to the wonderfully descriptive auctioneer.

Did I mention that both Shayla and I “purchased” two fine gentlemen? She won dinner with a local deejay—a tall, skinny dude with dreadlocks. I won an evening with a conservative judge up for re-election. You can bet I never mentioned once what it was I did for a living.

How about a reward for following my directions! If you post to this blog, you will be in the running to receive an autographed copy of Texas Men before it’s even available in the stores. If you’d like a second chance to win, follow this link: Access Romance

And The Winner Is Amy S.!!!

Amy, Email me at Lacy@lacydanes.com and I will get your copy of Being Wicked in the mail to you this week!

Hugs and Kisses,
Lacy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good morning… I mean afternoon/evening all.
I had good intentions on getting this posted earlier than this, but I woke this morning wanting to linger in bed and think. Not having my kids this week makes this possible, so I did!

I have had a few friends of late break up. Some of the experiences have gone smoothly, others horridly. All of them stressful for both parties involved.
I have a horrid time breaking up with someone. Especially if I have been with that person for some time. I hate hurting people so breaking up is something that pains me to do. Even when I know it is the right thing for me I always end up crying as I am saying the words.

One of my friends is a firm believer in breaking with someone but continuing to see them off and on for a month or so to make sure things are done with, and with future friendship in mind. I have seen him do this on several occasions. They break up. They meet for coffee the next day. They go to the movies the next week and then slowly they become friends. I am not sure how this would work for me. I have never had someone do this nor have I attempted doing such.

I have another friend who will simply cut the cord and walk away never to talk to the person again. But when you do care about a person this way seems harsh and hard to handle.

I have had bad break ups… and okay ones. But not usually the kind where I can immediately be friends with the person. My worst experience had the person I broke up with climbing up on my balcony the next day trying to talk me around. So not a good experience.

So I guess I am looking to hear from all of you out there. How do you end a relationship? And what good and bad experiences in breaking up or being broken up with had you had?

I will choose one name from all of those who comment by the end of tomorrow 2/3/09 and give away my new release Being Wicked!

Good Luck!
Lacy.