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My Website
About Me
I am a romance writer. That's not easy to say. Most people have preconceived notions about romances, and the people who write them. Let me tell you! Writing isn't for sissies. I got my first rejection in April 2004. That makes me a professional. In what other field are you considered a "professional" when you don't get called back for a second interview?
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Upcoming Releases
His and Hers Dalmatians Moonlit Romance April 2008
My Favorite Blogs and Websites
Bronwyn Parry, Author & Golden Heart Winner! Crystal Jordan, Author Kate Rothwell, Author Laura Hamby, Author Tori Scott, Author Nell Dixon, Author Denise Patrick, Author Valerie Parv, Australia's Queen of Romance Joanna Sandsmark, Dog and Kitty Author!!! Elisa Adams, Author Sharon Cullen, Author Meg Allison, Author Michelle Styles, Author Julie Cohen, Author Becca, Writer and People Watcher Sally Lawton, Playwright & Author Ainsley MacQueen, Author Jennie Adams, Author Cindy K Green, Author Bronwyn Storm, Doggy Author!!!
Works in Progress
Winter Miracles
The Husband Checklist
Resurrection
Professor Kennedy's Ghost
Everyday HeroThe Baby ContractAlmost On My OwnThe Stone CityDaddy's Little GirlsSkin DeepThe Dog Next Door
Previous Posts
Gratitude
Archives
April 2006
Credits
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Thursday, April 10, 2008
THE END What is it like to be an author, you may wonder? If you are well organized and know what you are doing, it's probably NOT like my past two weeks have been. Some confusion about my release date etc and newbie confusion and just confusion in general-- I wrote nearly all of His and Hers Dalamatians in the past two weeks. Yep. It came in at 30K, and the last day of pounding the keyboard, I pulled 5K out of thin air. This is what my friends call "The writing cave." I have not been to the writing cave before. I didn't know what it really meant, until I lived in it. It means not bathing for a week and looking down at oneself in shock when DH says, "Don't you think you at least ought to put on a clean pair of pajamas?" In other words, YOU STINK. I'm sleeping in the guest room, thank you very much. (Good. That means I can write in bed all night with the light on.) It means living on Pepsi and antianxiety medication and thankfully gobbling down whatever your DH puts in front of you. It means hoping your kids did their homework and having to set an alarm to remember to pick them up from school. This doesn't help if you can't figure out what the noise is when the alarm goes off. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU EMERGE FROM THE WRITING CAVE First, you wash your underwear. Next, you take a long nap. Now that your underwear is clean, you can take a shower. You are shocked by the appearance of about two dozen zits from forgetting to wash your face. And whose breath is that? No wonder DH has moved into the guest room. Every time you put your computer down, all three kids climb all over you, until you are jonesing bigtime for another anxiety tablet. If only they would get off you so you could find the bottle. Oh yeah. Ran out during time in writing cave. You realize that your toddler, who will feed herself and even change her own diapers (thank heaven for Pull-Ups), has been wearing the same pajamas for the past four days. You'd change her clothes, except she doesn't have any clean. Even with her handy stool, she can't reach the washing machine. She can, however, reach the dishes and get herself a glass of milk. And a towel to clean up the spills afterward. "Owie, owie, owie. Please don't comb my hair." You tell your little girl that if you wait another day, it will only hurt more and keep right on combing. It's official. You are the worst mother on the planet. You are also the worst author on the planet. You know your writing stinks, no one is going to buy the book, and your publisher and editor hate you because you bypassed your deadline so dreadfully. And that is what it is like to enter the writing cave and to come out the other side. My parents are coming to stay next week. I am housesitting for them while they work out of state. This place is a disaster! DH is freaking out, and I haven't worked my full hours for the past two weeks. Praying that I don't get fired and that I can clean all the toilets and the carpet and refill everyone's dressers before Nana and Papa get here. Please buy my book! Dangit, there goes that alarm again... Labels: family life, writing
Posted at 2:08 PM by Grace Tyler
 
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