Rachel Lee's Blog

Sorry I'm so late in posting another blog.  Computer problems have been developing all over the place.  I can't even get to my own site sometimes, and now I'm working on a monitor so old it's giving me headaches.  If I could do without these machines, I would.  But then I remember the days of doing my own edits with scissors and tape, and having to retype everything, and carbon paper.... and not being able to get online to chat with you, my friends.  So I guess I shouldn't complain.

I read a couple of Catherine Anderson novels (she helped keep me sane during the computer crises) and I really enjoyed them.  I highly recommend any of her books to those of you who love sweet, cozy romance.  Catherine is a master at this, and she definitely provides a haven from a real world that is sometimes frustrating and always challenging.

If you like a bit of a scare with your romance, try THE DARKEST EVENING OF THE YEAR by Dean Koontz.  It broke my heart in a way, because Dean lost his beloved golden, Trixie, last spring, and this was a book which starred a very special golden.  I cried a lot, and am glad I read it before we had to put Molly to sleep.

I have a great many more books on my TBR pile, but I suspect they'll have to wait until after the holidays.  We have a dear friend flying in tomorrow from Germany for three weeks, and I expect we'll do more talking than reading. :)

I know times are hard now, and I hear heart-breaking stories from so many people.  I hope that each of you are safe and well, and that you will enjoy the blessings of family and friends through the holidays.

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THE MAN FROM NOWHERE has been written and submitted, so I will share a bigger peek.

A stranger comes to Conard County, driven by a psychic vision that a woman will be murdered.  Because he had a vision just before his wife and child died in a plane crash and ignored it, he cannot allow himself to ignore this one.  Somehow, some way, he must save this woman's life.  Of course, even after she gets past her initial suspicion, our heroine finds the whole thing both terrifying and hard to believe.

And the update I promised on the pet situation.  Callie, an adorable calico kitten, joined our household on Wednesday, shortly after I found another calico kitten by the roadside, apparently hit by a car.  I raced him to the vet but he couldn't be saved.  On the other hand, by the time I got to the vet, both son and partner were in love and when we couldn't save that kitten, I was getting pleas about isn't there another cat to adopt?

 Well, there are always cats to adopt.  So I chose a calico kitten with a loud purr and great affection for humans and being held.  The first evening was madness.  Our husky, Kinli, couldn't relax for a minute.  The chasing was endless.  We finally bedded Callie down in a crate with food and water.  However, we are now on day four and the two have become fast friends.  They play together, ignore each other when they want to rest.  Kinli even taught Callie how to drink from his waterbowl, and scooped her out gently with his nose when she fell in.  And from time to time, they even sleep side by side.

Who said huskies hate cats?  Kinli is happier than he's been since Molly started getting sick.  And Callie has made herself at home.

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 Boy did we have an astonishing experience with our husky!  Exactly the opposite of what we expected, and both funny and touching.

It's been about six weeks since our huskador Molly went to heaven.  Kinli, our husky, accepted her passing with such relief we realized he had been suffering right along with her.

But we feel bad because he seems to be missing the companionship.  Quietly, and in subtle ways, he lets us know there's a hole in his life, just as there is one in ours.  So we decided he needed a friend, and took a trip to a pet store just to see how he reacted.

No, I won't buy from a pet store.  Adoption only, I promise.

We assumed Kinli would like another dog, and that like all (or most) huskies, he would be inclined to hate cats.  Even though unlike most huskies he doesn't show an ounce of prey drive.  He can even go out in the backyard when it's full of wild turkeys and ignore them while he does his business.  (After a moment, the turkeys ignore him, too.)

Well, the pet store people were reluctant to bring out a kitten (we were curious because we suspected Kinli might not feel that notorious cat hatred, and we like cats). They said huskies were "too close to wolves" and we explained Kinli had no prey drive whatever.  So they decided to risk it.

Out comes the kitten.  Kinli's ears prick, his eyes brighten.  Ever so cautiously he approaches to sniff.  The kitten play-batted at his nose (no claws out) and Kinli immediately backed up a step.  Then he sat.  Then he laid down.  Then he put his head on the floor.  Clearly he was trying to make himself as small as he could so as not to scare the kitten.  And all the while he looked interested in a good way.  The kitten, undistressed by his presence, played a bit right in front of his nose.  Kinli simply watched with fascination.

Then on to the puppies.  Oh, my goodness!  What a difference.  The pet store people had a husky and thought we'd be suckers for another one.  Well, that pup came out, took one look at Kinli and went into attack mode.  Our dog backed up, the people quickly dragged the puppy into the back room, all the while apologizing, "She's never acted that way before!"

Well, even dogs can take instant dislikes.  We weren't bothered by it.  Out comes another puppy, a labradoodle.  Now I'm a sucker for labradoodles, but not Kinli.  Oh no.  He watched that frantic pup for all of 30 seconds before he decided he was out of there.  He backed up, he tried to get away.  And when we went into one of those little rooms they have so you can spend time with a puppy, he climbed up on the bench to get away from that irritating, frazzled, frantic dog.

So this time they bring a chocolate lab.  "Much calmer," the lady says.  Well, slightly.  Kinli decided to hide behind us on the bench rather than let "little frantic" near him.  And when I picked the pup up, thinking that would send a message, Kinli literally jumped the gate to get away.

So we went home having learned that a kitten is possible, but a puppy never.  He doesn't like the energy.   How funny!

We're going to a pet adoption today to see if he's interested in a dog older than a puppy.  I'll let you know.  But somehow I think my always-different husky would like a cat.

Wow!

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I've been asked to explain the advantages in signing up for this website and newsletter, so I'm going to give you a few reasons.  But before I do, I want to promise that your e-mail addresses and any personal information you might provide will be held strictly confidential.  We will not use your information for any purpose other than keeping you updated.

But why bother?

Well, let me give you a little list:

1.  UPDATES: about new books well in advance of publication, and reminders when the books are released.

2.  ACCESS: to areas restricted to registered users, including previews of books, excerpts from upcoming books, a look at the writing process, and contests.

3.  CONTESTS.  Would you like to be a character in a Conard County book?  Would you like to try your hand at writing vignettes that will add to the background of Conard County?  Or maybe even working on a reader-written story here at the site?  Would you like a personally signed copy of a new book, or maybe even an old one you can't find?  Would you like to have a book dedicated you personally?

We have lots of ideas we're working to implement, and if you sign up for the site and newsletter, you'll have all these opportunites and more.

 So join me, please. :)  I love my readers and want to get to know you better.

 Hugs,

Rachel

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My sister-in-law is a remarkable woman.  I've always known that.  I'd love her secret for fitting 90 hours into a day, doing all kinds of hard work, traveling for the company, doing community service and still managing to be one of the world's best moms and wives.  I admire her beyond words.

She is now receiving some of the recognition she so justly deserves in her professional life, so excuse me if I brag a little about my sister-in-law, a great role model for young women everywhere.   Maybe the rest of us can't live up to her incredible standard, but she makes one thing clear with her life:  Anything is possible.

You can see Irene here on the cover of Women of Color magazine, and you can read about her inside at page 28.  And yeah, that's my brother pictured with her at the bottom of page 29.  I love them both to death, but Irene just takes my breath away.

 The cover is at:  http://viewda.com/webpaper/ccg/womenofcolor2008fall/multi/index.html

And the story starts at page 28, for those who want the details.

Yeah, I'm proud to know her.  Thanks for letting me brag.

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Life shakes us all up sometimes.  The old quote "Life is what happens when you're making other plans" (attributed to John Lennon but first written by a female writer in the 1930s whose name stubbornly escapes me) is apt.

We all know those times when things seem to happen one after another, barely letting us catch our breath.  Between the economic news, the sad loss of one of my beloved dogs, and a bunch of other stuff, I've been panting for a few weeks now.

So I have made a resolution, and I mean to stick to it:  Life happens but very little is a crisis unless you decide it is.  I will draw deep breaths, let the storm pass (emotional storms are gone within 90 seconds physiologically) and then focus on what I can do.  I will not worry about the multitude of things beyond my control.

 Good resolution.  Will I be able to stick to it?  Hah!  I know myself better than that.  I'm a worrier by nature, a fixer by nature, and entirely too inclined to get frustrated when I can't do something.

But I'm also getting older, and with age we're supposed to develop a little perspective and wisdom, right?  So along with my resolution, I've made up my mind to resume meditating for 60 minutes a day, and to be grateful.

Gratitude is often easy to forget.  "Counting your blessings" is often hard to do when you stare into the maw of some overwhelming problem.  And yet some of the most grateful people I have known in my life were people with huge problems, from cancer to poverty.

However, the more gratitude we can feel for waking up in the morning, or having a bite to eat, or a family, or a pet or... just anything... the more we can feel those little bits of gratitude, the happier we become.  And the less overwhelming a problem seems.

A friend of mine who was dying of cancer (and what a brave, remarkable woman she was!) once reminded me: If you can fix it with money, it's not a problem.

Given the economic times, a lot of us are going to have to go even farther than that.  I know a lot of you visiting here are experiencing your own hardships, or have friends and family who are finding it tough to get by. 

But as of this point, some things are still free:  waking up, a sunny day, a good soaking rain, a smile from someone you know or don't know.  A smile you offer to someone else.

So here and now I am going to be grateful for all my readers who make it possible for me to visit Conard County again, and grateful for all of you who bother to visit and read this page.

I am sending you smiles and hugs, and I want you to know that I will keep you all in my prayers.  My mother loved to say, "It's always darkest before dawn," and "Every cloud has a silver lining."

At 58, I can say she was right.  Every bad time brought with it an opportunity, even though it was not immediately apparent.   If nothing else, this difficult time brings me the opportunity to express my gratitude to you all.

And if you have any suggestions for how you deal with the tough times, please post them on the forum or elsewhere.  I always love to hear from you.

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The MAN FROM NOWHERE proposal has been accepted, and the writing has begun.  I'll add a bit more here...he has a horrible secret, a terrible past...and he's on a mission.  But even the sheriff has trouble finding out who he is, because he doesn't seem to exist.  I'm still awaiting editorial revisions to the proposal, so I can't tell you more than that.  Besides, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise!

 A SOLDIER'S CHRISTMAS will be reprinted for the holiday season, and in it (for those of you who missed it) is Seth Hardin's story.

And finally, I'll be out of town visiting my father throughthe 29th of September.  I'll probably have limited time, and limited internet access, so if I seem to disappear that's all it is.  Since I can't take my own computer, I'll try to borrow Dad's while he's napping.  We'll see!

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The other day on the Weather Channel I learned one of those interesting factoids that managed to penetrate . That factoid is this:  What do those recycling numbers mean?  Answer:  The higher the number, the harder the substance is to recycle.

Whoa!  Really?  That simple?  Well, duh.

Yup.  And it even explains why, in my county, they limit recycling to cans (any) and plastics with numbers of 1 or 2.  And this little factoid wound up giving me a headache (mainly because it made me think AGAIN).

Okay.  So I live on future beachfront property.  Considering the recent nose-dive in property values, I sometimes hope the oceans rise thirty feet in the next five years just so I can get out of here.  (Note to investors... help me break even and you can own the future beachfront property yourself.  It has charm now, it'll have even more then, even if we lose our Florida panthers, turkeys, deer, bobcats, armadillos and alligators...all of which reside now in my backyard.  But heck, they'll be replaced with gulls, terns, sandpipers, sea oats and... oh, manta rays.  Fair trade!)

But back to the grocery store.  I've always made a kind of effort to buy stuff in containers that I can recycle.  Despite my efforts, however, "waste not, want not" is counter corporate.  At least to judge by what I face.

Okay, so I get out of my car (sorry no public transportation), grab my green bags so I don't need plastic or paper (did you know a lot of cashiers won't even pack them for you.  Nope, you stand there holding up the whole line while you try to pay and pack your own... while people behind you start muttering.)  Okay, rewind... leave the bags in the car, so as not to annoy people behind me, planning to tell the cashier I don't want ANY BAGS.  I'll pack when I get back to my car.

Now we are in the store.  Budget's tight, thanks to deregulation and the suffering economy, but hey, sorry, my kids have to eat anyway.  So I go to produce, looking for stuff grown in this country... You know, ANYTHING that didn't have to be shipped from South America or New Zealand.  At this time of year here, most stuff is being shipped from elsewhere.  Later on I'll see the signs that say: Locally grown.  Whatever.  Now even California will have to do.

But Lord, this stuff needs to be put in plastic BAGS.  I check the bags, no recycling info on them.  

Rewind, try another store, 2 tenths of a mile away.  (Yeah, I know I wasted gas, but once I know my alternatives, I won't have to do this again, and the weather channel factoid is weighing heavy.)  Ah, produce bags with the magic 2 on them.  So from now on, when I can afford fresh produce, I know where to come.

Now on to other stuff.  Foam trays can be recycled...unless they've had meat or fish on them.  Now how can I buy either of those without a foam tray?  Not possible.  I talk to the butcher who shrugs.  "Send a comment card."  I will, believe me.  And while I'm at it, I'll ask why everything comes wound in a sea of plastic wrap, and whatever happened to good old butcher paper?

Canned goods, okay.  But I need soap for handwashing, and with the kids I've got, bar soap is a mess.  After three uses it looks like a lab experiment run amok, it melts all over everything... so liquid hand soap it is.

I notice people starting to eye me strangely as I pick up bottle after bottle of liquid hand soap and study the bottom.  I keep waiting to hear the PA broadcast: "Lunatic on aisle 7!"  They edge away, while glancing over their shoulders, but never come close enough so I can toss of an explanation.

Oh, jeez, the number 5 is on the bottom of all these bottles!  (Why can't they put it in a #2 like soda???)  Feeling like a criminal, I put my favorite brand in the cart because I don't want to have to throw away 20 bars of Dial Soap in the next couple of weeks.  It takes energy to make that soap, too!  (On the other hand, my #5 bottle of soap might get me that beach front property sooner.)

Off to other stuff.  Milk's okay.  Butter is cardboard and paper (though not recycled paper.)  My favorite brand of half-and-half comes in a recyclable #2 container... but it's sold out.  With my luck, that waxed cardboard container beside it, which I can't recycle, will endure a thousand years in a landfill.  I think I have enough to get by, but... I don't want to make an extra car trip.  I take the damn cardboard container to save gas.

By the time I finish, I've got blister packs (can't recycle), I've hunted down a birthday card that's printed on recycled paper, I've resisted any urge to buy a pretty candle (made from petroleum products) and instead purchased some soy candle in an environmentally friendly container.

At the checkout, despite the fact that I repeatedly state I DO NOT WANT BAGS, I get bags.  Now I'm unhappy.

So I march out to my car, load my green bags, cut open the blister packs and toss them into one of the plastic bags I said I did not want.  

Then, feeling suddenly happy, I take all the garbage back into the store and walk up to customer service.

The sweet young thang who couldn't be much older than my daughter smiles and says, "Can I help you?"

No, she CAN'T, but she may.  Because, still smiling, having decided how to handle this mess, I pass her the bag full of plastic bags, unrecyclable blister packs, and the remains of everything else I could open in the car.

"Here," I say, grinning like a madwoman.

"What's this?" she asks cautiously.

"Everything you forced me to purchase that I can't recycle.  Plus the bags I told your cashier I didn't want."

"Um... what am I supposed to do?"  She has by this time clearly concluded I'm insane.  Well, I'm getting there.  Fast.

"Tell your manager to deal with it.  Tell corporate I'm sick of it. Quit forcing me to buy unneccessary fodder for the landfill."

Still smiling, I grab a comment card and leave the stunned young woman behind.

Have a nice day!

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Well... writing is all about what we know, right?  Or so I was always told.  And it's true that we reach into our personal experiences in life to create characters and stories that will feel real and resonate with readers.

But writing has a few lessons of its own to teach.  The most important may be that the bigger the challenge, the bigger the opportunity.

Writing a story should never be "easy."  If it's easy, something is wrong.  The characters have to face challenges and get into extremely difficult situations.  As I have learned, when I box in my characters in to the point where I want to beat my head on the keyboard for a solution, that's when I have to become most creative.  That's when the challenge I have set for myself and my characters become a huge opportunity to tell a ripping good story.

The curious part comes when I look at some major challenge in my own life, hovering on the edge of despair, this little voice in my head says, "Well, this will be great for a book some day."  And that reminds me that challenge creates opportunity.

If you are considering writing a story, look at your life, at the times when you thought things were beyond repair, or even hopeless.  In those seeds you will find the most important lessons about writing and life.  And you'll have some idea of the emotional intensity you need to bring to your story and the extremity of the challenges your characters need to face.

You may put your characters into a situation you have never personally faced, yet your experience of the "it's impossible!" situations in your own life will give emotional truth to your characters regardless of which challenges you set them.

These challenges and conflicts we face in life give the texture to our days, the meaning to our existence.  These same elements bring a story to life and engage a reader. 

As I said once in a speech, the lower the valleys, the higher the mountains.  Without the lows in life, there are no mountain-tops of joy.

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"May you live in interesting times."

Old Chinese curse.  And so very true.  There are days I wish for boredom, but since I'm not easily bored I rarely enjoy one.  But then there are the interesting times, of which I often feel I have too many.  However, sometimes those "interesting times are full of good news. :)

 The Man From Nowhere emerged from the darkness last Friday in a half-hour brain-storming session.  Unfortunately I can't tell you about it until the proposal is accepted, but trust me, you're going to love this guy.  You're going to want to take him home with you.  I'm in love with him already.

And I received some additional good news: Drusilla's Dream, which was part of a LUNA anthology a few years back, will be reprinted next July, again as part of the same anthology.  For those of you who like whimsy, fantasy and a bit of humor, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Meanwhile, I am sitting on my thumbs in eager anticipation to get the go-ahead on The Man from Nowhere.

I hope all of you are safe, well, and happy.

Hugs,

Rachel

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