Hey, I may be wrapping up this blog just as it begins. Some friends and I are going to start our own Blog, and that way I divide up the Blogging duties (such as they are).

So stay tuned ... or not ... whatever strikes your fancy.

J

Boy, am I pooped today. We went to the Eric Clapton concert last night. This is the second time in this century that I've seen Eric. Maybe I'm getting jaded, but it didn't seem to have as much energy as previous concerts. Or maybe it's me -- at least we were able to get out of the parking lot before one in the morning, unlike last time when we went to see Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (now *there* was a concert! yikes, those guys can still rock it after all these years!) Anyway, we sat and waited to get out of the parking lot for about an hour (no exaggeration)...

Last night was memorable because of the exploding glass. We were sitting there in our seats and Eric had just launched into Pretending. It was a tad too loud, but hey, good way to kick off a concert. Then WHAM BOOM something exploded above us. Glass shards came showering down. Luckily it was tempered glass, so the odds of injury were small, but it was still startling. I had glass pieces about 1/4" big in my hair, my clothes ...

I was luckily holding my booze at the time, so no glass got into my plastic cup. That would have been a travesty since it took me almost thirty minutes standing in line to get that #*(@ mediocre drink. By the time I got to the head of the line, I made it a double. It was vastly overpriced but they've got you over a barrel, as it were.

So there we are, rocking with Eric and glass comes down. Then throughout the next two songs we got to see Our Security Guys at work. Someone notified them that a floodlight had blown above us (or *something* blew). A bunch of rather overweight guards came to our section, peered up at the lights, then the emergency crews came and mimed to us 'Anybody hurt? Anybody need first aid?' (I say 'mimed' since Eric was still playing full blast). Then the poor cleaning guy had to come and sweep up all the glass off the steps, since folks were trying to walk up and down the steps, crunching on glass all the way.

We had a front row seat to all this since we were seated mid-way in the section, in the aisle (section 109 of the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul, in case you care to look it up).

Well, the whole thing gave me a great idea. Look for "Murder at the Rock Concert" sometime soon. See, our heroine is scanning the crowds with her binoculars and sees something suspicious -- what looks like two men fighting in the rafters, up near the lighting booth. Suddenly the light above her is shattered. She alerts Security, trying to get them to go up and look. By the time she makes anyone believe her, the murderer ....

Okay, that's enough. You get the idea 8)

J

I've been thinking about Women's Fiction lately. You know what I'm talking about -- books about women, their friends, how they overcome obstacles, the kind of junk that happens to women in their lives.

I used to think I wanted to write Women's Fiction. I don't think I do any more. Why?

Because I've been there.

I was skimming a book that talked about a woman blindsided by a cheating husband.

Hmm. Been there.

I skimmed one about three friends who go off and experience a wild weekend.

Yep. Been there (years ago).

I was skimming one about a woman who was struggling with cancer and other health issues.

Yep. Had a friend who struggled, I can relate to that.

You get the drift. Here's the conclusion I've come to -- I don't want to rehash what's happened in my life. And I'm at a certain age where I've experienced quite a bit (heck, just look at the plots of some of my books).

I want FICTION. I want to relax. I want to smile and relate to characters and just hang out with them. I don't want to re-experience all the angst of my life. That's probably why I like writing paranormals and my 'cozy/sexy mysteries' (I should call those the XYZ mysteries since I manage to work in 3 of the least-used letters in the English language when describing them).

Anyway -- I want FICTION.

Calgon, take me away.

The Pig Book (also known as Every Rose Has Its Thorn) is doing well on the contest circuit. I feel like it's one of my strongest books, but it's the second one I did in first person voice, so maybe that's why. I felt quite comfortable writing it, and it only took me four weeks to get the draft done, then another couple of weeks to tighten it up. I didn't agonize over it and the words just kind of flowed out.

Then I did One Night of Sin ("Murder at the State Fair") in which a woman's ex-husband is murdered in front of her at the grandstand at the Minnesota State Fair. The idea for that one came to me when we were at the Fair, attending a B-52s concert. The area in front of us was pitch dark and I commented, "Man, somebody could kill somebody down there and nobody would know it."

Voila. Idea.

I had a bit more trouble with the next one (The Brownie Book, also known as The Readjustment Blues). The initial idea was easy: the heroine brings brownies to the company potluck, and somebody dies from poisioning. Then I had to re-think the premise after brainstorming it with my CP (thanks, Kathy!) So I re-tasked it a bit so the brownies were ....

Oops, can't give away the plot. Anyway, the pacing on that one was a off, I thought, and I had to work on it some more. It may need some more work even as we speak, although it did well on the contest circuit.

I've had so much fun with the first-person books I may go back and take a couple of my third-person books and re-do them. I think there's two at least that could be done that way very effectively.

Hmm. So why am I posting here when I could be doing that?

You're right ...

Later.

Hey, my first entry in this odd new world. I decided I'd better at least reserve my name here. And if I'm going to set up a blog, I should put something in there, so, like all things, it took on a life of its own. And for those who know me, you know I can't resist technology in all its forms, so -- here I am.

I'm not sure if I'll stay here but we'll give it a shot. Between this and my web site, it's a lot of overhead when I'd rather be writing. But I'll give try it -- at least for now. Seems like every time I turn around, somebody's blogging something.

That sounds sort of ... harsh, doesn't it?

Maybe, at some point, it'll get interesting. Although I doubt I'll garner the audience of Ms. Snark, the Evil Editor, or any others in the Pub World. For those who don't know me, I'm what is euphemistically known as 'pre-published' -- my manuscripts are still languishing in the Slush Pile. I have hopes, though ... oh, yes, I have hopes.

And yes, I do have a Real Name to match those initials. I just don't use it much. Not that it's a bad name. It's just ... not who I am when I write.

Hope that makes sense. If not, well, too bad. I'm signing off for the night.

J