My July issue of RT never came (I think someone at the PO is stealing my subscriptions. This is the 2nd missing RT issue and I’ve also missed an issue of RWR. :brow: ) so I e-mailed and requested a new one, which just arrived. I flipped through it today and paused at a letter to the editor titled “E-Request” where the reader requests the publishers do a better job of explaining in their advertisments that the books being advertised are e-books. She says she’ll read a snippet, want to buy the book, and then find out it’s an e-book. At which point she won’t buy it and is instead disappointed at being deprived a read that intrigued her.

On my chat group, the Book Cafe, I gave two readers the choice between Sex on Holiday and Catching Caroline. They both requested SOH. If they were both e-books, one of the readers wanted CC. But if SOH was paperback, she’d take that instead.

On Lori Foster’s message board, there is a discussion about Ellora’s Cave. Some were turned off by the covers, others by the level of heat, others by the number of parties involved in the sexual releations. But there was one reader who didn’t even know what EC is or even where to find it.

My agent, who is spending most of his days talking to me lately (poor guy), reiterated today his thoughts on e-publishing and they’re not positive. My print editor doesn’t consider e-publishing to be publishing credits. If you’re only in e-book, you’re unpublished.

I’ve received e-mails from readers who state their eagerness to read my Bravas, but please forgive them, they won’t buy Caroline because it’s an e-book. However, if it comes out in print, they’ll snap it up.

Understand, I’m just talking and not complaining. I’m not at all hurt or offended by my print readers who won’t buy my e-books. I’m perfectly happy if they only buy my print work, I’m grateful for that. But I find it interesting how many readers and publishing professionals are still not… jees, I don’t know… into e-published work. When I do chats, the questions are mostly about my Bravas.

Speaking of chats, I have two coming up over the next few days. If you’re interested, the information is on my Top Five Page. I’m also a Featured Author on The Romance Studio for the month of July. And I think it’s not too late to vote for my smooch at ECataRomance. :kiss:

…when I’m on the phone with my agent or my editor. I get hot and worked up, filled with restless energy. I’ve learned it’s best not to reply when on the phone with my editor because I just blurt out a bunch of useless idiotic crap that has her going, “Okkkkaaaayyyy…” Not really, she’s too careful with my fragile feelings, but you can hear the “huh?” in her tone. I betcha she does everything possible NOT to have to get on the phone with me. A couple of days ago I was looking forward to meeting her in Reno, but now I think I should make myself scarce. *g* She likes my writing. Why ruin it with my “foot-in-mouth” syndrome? Not kidding.

Now my poor agent, on the other hand, he gets the full-on “Sylvia, take a valium and have a martini” self. (And if you think I’m kidding, he’s actually said that to me before.) No worries about our communication, I speak my mind (a scary place). However, I guess he’s okay with this. He says he’s okay with this. Says I’m a fabulous client. (Of course, I pay him to say stuff like that. *g* And he’s naturally charming.) He knows me, knows I’m going to talk about ten years from now and where I want to be. I never take a deal at face value. A deal is only as good as the next deal it nets you. It’s never just, Let’s take this deal for now. It’s got to be, If I take this deal, what will the next deal be like based on this one? I have dreams, you know. Big dreams. And I haven’t been writing long enough to have been told they’re not realistic. So I’m going for it. There’s also timing. The things I write are selling now. I have editors who treat me good and are happy to have me. (And I’m super lucky with Kate and the historical sales, no doubt about that.) A year or two from now, will the romance landscape be different? I don’t know. Better strike while the iron is hot and all that.

I’m too impatient for the publishing world, you know that? I still don’t understand why things take so darn long to get done. This, of course, is because I only see the picture with me in it. I forget sometimes that there are 9000+ RWA members and countless non-members doing the same thing. I have to wait my turn. I’ve been lucky so far in that I’ve skipped ahead in line a few times, but then there’s been a few times I waited longer.

What the hell is this ramble all about, you ask? I have no idea. *g* This past week has been a lot about the business side of writing. And I’m still learning. People have different ways they handle situations. Some will sit down with a pen and paper, and be coherent. Others, like me, pace, wave their arms around, and talk too fast. Those of you going to Reno will see me either quiet as a wallflower or bouncing off the walls. Or ducking behind a potted plant when my editor walks by. *g*

In other news, RWA cashed my check for the Passionate Ink chapter affiliation fees. While I haven’t heard anything official yet, I’m taking that as a good sign. Part of my “If I dream it, I can do it” attitude.

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, “What does love mean?”

The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

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“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.”

Rebecca- age 8

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“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.”

Billy – age 4

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“Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.”

Karl – age 5

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“Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.”

Chrissy – age 6

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“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.”

Terri – age 4

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“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.”

Danny – age 7

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“Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss”

Emily – age 8

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“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.”

Bobby – age 7 (Wow!)

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“If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,”

Nikka – age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka’s on this planet)

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“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.”

Noelle – age 7

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“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.”

Tommy – age 6

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“During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.

He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.”

Cindy – age 8

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“My mommy loves me more than anybody .You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.”

Clare – age 6

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“Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.”

Elaine-age 5

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“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.”

Chris – age 7

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“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.”

Mary Ann – age 4

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“I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.”

Lauren – age 4

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“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” (what an image)

Karen – age 7

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“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn’t think it’s gross.”

Mark – age 6

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“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.”

Jessica – age 8

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And the final one — Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge.

The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.

Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, “Nothing, I just helped him cry”

Kate and Jordan both have interesting discussions going on about being “invisible”. Jordan asks, “Has anyone else experienced this strange sensation? If so, how did you deal with it?”

I’ve been invisible a few times in my life, most recently a couple years ago after the birth of my daughter. I was the heaviest I’d ever been in my life, I hadn’t bought myself any new clothes or had my hair cut or done anything for just “me” since the birth of my son a few years before. Suddenly I found myself pushing a WalMart cart across the parking lot and realized, for the first time, that the looks I used to get were gone. No one saw me or gave me a second glance. And I knew then that this had been going on for years and steadily wearing away my self confidence.

I think all women have a different reason why they become invisible. For me, I simply stopped being Sylvia and became Mom. Mom didn’t buy herself new clothes, even as she spent hundreds on her kids. I didn’t go to work so there was no one to impress. My kids think I’m gorgeous no matter what I look like. I finally got it together, told myself it was okay to put ‘me’ first and got back in shape. Started going to the spa again and caring for my appearance. Everyone has a different reason for being invisible, and mine is not someone else’s. Still it was a valuable personal lesson and one I try to focus on, because it’s so easy to forget.

Take care of you.

We had a great time at the picnic party. I forgot sunscreen and my face got burned. My hubby made out like a bandit during the raffle, winning three prizes. I won one, so we came home with some goodies. We had dinner and I hit my computer to find a packed inbox. Yikes. I started to get to it and then gave up. There was a crit from my cp in there so I pulled it up and worked off that, so despite being gone all day, I did work. *g* I’m now on page 250 out of 400 and for some reason, mentally, I think I’m almost done. At page 200 I was in despair. Now only 50 pages later I feel upbeat. Weird how the mind works to compartmentalize. Like when you take a long road trip. You judge the distance by certain landmarks that mentally gauge the distance left to travel. For me 200 was too far away, but 150 is not.

The other day when I talked to Kate about my edits she said she didn’t have to do much, just a little nitpicking, nothing major. I haven’t seen them yet, but I’m certain she would have mentioned any major cuts. So that means the stories are probably still the length I wrote them. For you writers, I used TNR 14 and each story is 125 pages. I can’t wait until the edits get here, because after I send them back it won’t be long until the ARCs come. :bounce:

First, Alyssa read Catching Caroline and “loved” it. Enough to damn me for not having more available titles. *g* Thank you, Alyssa. :choco:

Today I took my kids on a shopping trip to Toy’ R Us. We all had a good time. Jack really wanted a Batman skateboard and a new cartridge for his Leapster. Shanna wanted a Princess cartridge for her My First LeapPad. I left the store once again in awe of my babies. They didn’t beg, plead, or whine for everything in the store, even though they could have picked whatever they wanted and knew it. They picked out what they “had to have” and happily trucked up to the checkstand, which makes me want to go back and buy them the whole store.

I also went to the salon today and got a lovely spa pedicure. I proudly read my romance book (Hero, Come Back) while having my back and feet massaged. It was heaven. *sigh* Plus, now I have pretty toes again. *g* Hubby did the manly relax thing. You know, lay on the couch and watch dumb comedies.

And the chicken and dog didn’t get left out of “pamper the family” day. The dog was groomed, and came home with short hair and a nifty bandana. And the chicken is now up to 7 eggs. (Okay, she didn’t relax. Not my fault. She did however make it into the house today with an impressive Roadrunner speed run through the partially open kitchen door. My daughter was NOT happy.)

Tomorrow is an annual, huge picnic party blowout at the J Street Marina in San Diego. This is our family’s fourth year attending and I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it is. It’s held by one family who rents a giant jumpy, provides tons of food and beer, and then holds races all day–like potato sack races and three-legged races. Everyone gets a colored popsicle stick at the end of each race, the number on it representing what place you took. Based on that you get raffle tickets. At the end of the day, after running and laughing and eating and drinking, they hold a raffle with all the tickets you collected for stuff like hot air ballon rides, tvs, dvds, salon visits, dinner gift certificates, etc. It’s amazing and the kids have the time of their lives participating in the races. They’ve been talking about it all day and by tomorrow morning they’ll be shaking with excitement. :bounce: :cheer:

I, OTH, will simply enjoy the day spent running around in the ocean breeze with my babies.

WOMAN’S PERFECT BREAKFAST

She’s sitting at the table with her gourmet coffee.

Her son is on the cover of the Wheaties box.
Her daughter is on the cover of Business Week.
Her boyfriend is on the cover of Playgirl.
And her husband is on the back of the milk carton.

WOMEN’S REVENGE

“Cash, check or charge?” I asked, after folding items the woman wished to purchase.

As she fumbled for her wallet I noticed a remote control for a television set in her purse.

“So, do you always carry your TV remote?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, ” but my husband refused to come shopping with me, and I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally.”

UNDERSTANDING WOMEN
(A MAN’S PERSPECTIVE)

I know I’m not going to understand women. :scratch:

I’ll never understand how you can take boiling hot wax, pour it onto your upper thigh, rip the hair out by the root, and still be afraid of a spider.

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