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My Valentine

Sunday, February 14th, 2010

It’s Valentine’s Day. You can tell by all the ads targeting us with jewelry, flowers, and of course, chocolate. Thoughts automatically turn to love. So, I decided to blog today about the first time I fell in love—with my son. As an adoptive mom, you don’t have the joy of feeling that first kick in your belly. You don’t get to see their little bodies forming on an ultrasound, and as an internationally adoptive parent, you don’t get to be present at your child’s birth.

What you do get is a picture and medical report—and if you are really lucky, you get a short video of your child-to-be. We were lucky enough to have a video of our son. In the months leading up to our trip to South Korea to get our boy, I must have watched this short piece of film a million times. He was seven months old in the video. I watched every movement of his face, every nuance in the way he touched and explored things, and his glorious little laugh. I felt each viewing gave me new insight into this boy who I’d never met, but I knew was going to be my child for the rest of our lives.

There was already a tug on my heartstrings. But how could I know what I would experience when I first met my boy. How my heart would swell so much I felt my chest expand from it. How I could not breathe from the hope and future I saw in his eyes.

But let me back up at bit here.

Before I could see my son, we had to wait for travel clearance (which seemed to take forever) and then fly to South Korea and WAIT an entire night at the adoption agency’s guest house before his foster family would bring him to the guest house for us to see.

But the next morning, after a night of no sleep, and a stomach too restless to eat, we would go downstairs to the clinic and see our son. Before we even reached the glass door of the clinic, we caught a glimpse of a boy, much older and chubbier than the photos we had still in a small album in our room. He was in the arms of his foster mom with hair in front sticking straight up.

And he was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

We all went inside a play room with our son’s social worker, and we were able to play with him and very briefly hold him. And I know it sounds fanciful. I know many people find it hard to believe. But right then, in that very moment, I fell in love. That love has only grown as my time with him has progressed. Now, we are a team, I tell him. We are the mommy and Jaime team.

So, happy Valentine’s Day to my little sweetie. And to all the parents out there and their little loves. What better way to celebrate the day of love than by being a mom?

 

 

 

 

 

Do you have a mistress?

Friday, May 15th, 2009

Okay, so this topic might seem a little off note for Mama Writers. But I recently began watching a show on BBC America called Mistresses. It’s steamy, provocative, and really asks the important questions about marriage—what constitutes a good marriage and what constitutes cheating.

This began to make me wonder about my mistress—my writing. I’ve started to write in an entirely new genre, and it…well…feels like cheating. This genre is so very different from what I have been writing that even though it is a “sweet” genre, it feels rather naughty to me. It feels so different and yet so right.

Sometimes in writing, as in life, we need to step out of our comfort zones and experience something new. Putting a fresh spin on things can offer new challenges and help us out of a rut. Staleness and complacency can eat at you until you don’t have any passion left and your writing becomes a pale memory of what it once was.

I’ve found that you don’t even have to publish in the new genre or style you’re writing in to find it will give you a fresh twist and voice to your writing. Being a Gemini (the sign of the twin and one who always needs new challenges), I have often used this trick to keep myself from getting bored with my own work. To keep me entertained, so to speak. For if you aren’t entertained, how will a reader be? If you don’t get up with the drive to pour those words out on a page and see what is going to happen to your characters that day, how can you expect someone who picks up your book to care about those same characters?

So, is it cheating? Does it mean I’m less focused? I don’t know. But it is the only way I know to get me through some difficult writing patches.

How many of you have cheated on your own writing? Have you ever gone off in an entirely new direction and found it helped your creativity shine?

Tell me about it! I want to know.

Now, back to my mistress…

Renee Knowles
 
SAVVY BUSINESS SKILLS FOR WRITERS
Available Now from Wild Child Publishing

COURTING TROUBLE–Nominated for Best Novella of 2008 by LASR!
Available Now  from The Wild Rose Press 

 

Welcome Special Guest Carrie Lofty!

Wednesday, March 4th, 2009

MamaWriters are thrilled to have debut historical romance author Carrie Lofty with us today, chatting about being an author and a mom! 

Carrie Lofty’s work has been praised as “inventive” (Dear Author), “shattering” (Nights & Weekends), and “intelligent” (Smart Bitches). Her debut, WHAT A SCOUNDREL WANTS (Zebra: 2008), is the hot, adventurous tale of Will Scarlet and his dangerous lady love. 

Help us welcome Carrie!

carrie-lofty-pix1

Some things are just for me.

Sure, I pack three lunches every night after dishes, but I do it dancing disco to Roisin Murphy   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0dBi_aYXjuE  on my iPod. And of course I wrestle the never-ending laundry into twice weekly submission, but I’m usually mumbling dialogue, pitches and plot ideas while sorting colors from whites–because like music, reading, dance, dear friends, and striking cheeky poses in the fogged-up bathroom mirror, writing romance is just for me.

I put aside my excuses and wrote my first romance in the summer of 2006 when my husband moved to Virginia for a three-month internship. I held down the fort in Wisconsin with our daughters, then aged two and three. As you might imagine, I needed an outlet for myself, a safe place, a place of imagination where I could revel in rubbing brain cells together. They still function!

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Of course, it didn’t hurt that I had a goal: I desperately wanted to go to Nationals. Isn’t that nuts? Not “finish a manuscript” or “get published,” although those were certainly on my long term to-do list, but I wanted a legit excuse to get out of the house. As with most cajoling and coercing techniques, Mommy used what works!

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Technically, I write for a publisher now, not just for myself, but it remains the best sort of escape. I sit with my doubts and my tendency to procrastinate–darn you, reruns of Doctor Who and So You Think You Can Dance clips on YouTube!–and I make up the most satisfying romantic adventures I can imagine. It’s still just for me, but I love that readers are in on the game. Sharing is good!

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But I do get questions regarding the sexual content in my books, and on occasion, about romance in general. Heroines waiting to be rescued and happily willing to hand over their virtue–don’t they send the wrong message? Do I really want my daughters to grow up knowing Mommy writes those kind of books?


Pardon my French, but hell yeah.

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One day in the ever-nearing future, my girls will be teenagers (oh, dear). They’ll have romantic notions–at least I hope they will–and they’ll have all manner of ideas and misconceptions about womanhood, femininity, and sexuality. What makes a strong woman? What place does respect and affection have in fostering a healthy sex life? And how does any mother balance the needs of the self against the needs of her family? I hope my books will provide entertaining answers to these questions. They’ll get a mainline peek into my brain, into what I cherish about being a woman and what I value in men–particularly patient, clever, devoted men like their daddy.

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That is, if they aren’t completely squicked out!

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Oh, well. Even if my girls never read a word of my books, I’ll be happy to share the story of my success and serve as an example of how hard work, joy and luck can pay off. I’ll also share how important this process is to maturing into a good, sane mom. Carve out a place for yourself. Protect that place and nurture it.

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Huh. Seems even the things that are just for me wind up being for my kids as well.

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Except for the disco dancing. That really is all mine.

Best,
Carrie


wasw-cover-300dpi-600px-tallwww.carrielofty.com http://www.carrielofty.com/

WHAT A SCOUNDREL WANTS ~ Zebra Debut, Available Now

The hot, exciting tale of Will Scarlet and his dangerous lady love!
 

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Slipping Things In

Thursday, February 12th, 2009

How do you slip in the important stuff into your child’s diet?  Seriously, I’m talking tips.   Dried cranberries in popcorn.  Avocado & cheese sandwiches cut up like mouse ears. How do you do it?

And . . . how do you slip in the  important lessons you want them to learn, so it doesn’t sound like a lecture?   

Does it depend on the topic?  The age?  How nervous you feel about the subject?  

You can't tell, but I've stuffed this chocolate sensation with broccoli.  S'rsly.

You can't tell, but I've stuffed this chocolate sensation with broccoli.

Be patient.  Be persistent.   Believe in yourself.   Be kind to creatures smaller than yourself.  Trust your mother.   Trust yourself.  Brush your teeth.

And … what about your writing?   How do you get the really important stuff in there, the stuff your readers need to know, but don’t really want to hear? 

You know, trifling matters such as backstory & motivation.  How do you reveal your heroine’s motivation for sneaking down the stairs at 2am alone, when she KNOWS she’s being hunted?

How do you make sure your reader knows your hero is tortured without beating her over the head with all the particulars because, seriously, no matter how traumatizing they were, we don’t necessarily want to hear them.

I am finding that . . . surprise, surprise, less is more.  

A light touch works best.  Subtlety rules the day.  

The less I say, the more I listen, the calmer I am, the better things go with my 4 y.o.

Oh, I will add this: the more excited I sound, the better things go.  I expect that when we hit teen years, the reverse will become true.    

And, for stories, well, ain’t it funny, the same is true.  

Less is more. Less backstory. Less explaining things.  Fewer long, drawn-out inner monologues gazing deep into ones own naval and life history. Bo-o-o-o-ring.  

Show, don’t tell. For our stories. For our kids.  We live the life we want them to live. We fall down in our attempts, we own up to it, dust ourselves off, and try again.  

I think many of the most important things, in our parenting and our writing, get slipped in.  If we do it right, they hardly even notice.

How do you do it?

~Kris

the-conqueror

  

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