Watching Spring Go By

Another spring is floating by, much of it, unobserved. I'm sitting behind my desk, staring out the window, and watching the sun warm the lawn. It brings the pink and purple buds of flux and tulips to life. A robin and a wren fight over a worm at the bottom of the porch. But that's all I see. Just what can be observed from behind my desk.

Michael went to Lowes this morning. Without me. He'll come back with a trunk load of topsoil and flats of whatever flowers look pretty to him. He takes pride in his yard, trimming it to perfection, and coaxing plants and flowers to their maximum potential. I used to do that, too.

Last year, I sat at this same desk overwhelmed with getting Southern Fried Women finished and launched. We did it, though. It's up for two, and shhh (possibly three) national awards. It was my "first child." Now here I sit, once again. Birthing a "second." But this one is different.

The manuscript is long. I spend hours and hours pouring over each page, paragraph and sentence. If one didn't love this kind of work, they'd run from it. I debate over my editor's changes, whether I agree or don't agree. Keep them or leave it in. Or move it to another chapter, possibly. Another rewrite. Another day gone. Squeeze in time for a shower, a meal or two, even a speaking engagement and coffee with friends. At least that gets me out of the house.

The days slide by ... and so does the season. When I'm not in the midst of rewrites, my mind is open to everything around me. I absorb the world like a sponge. But it seems the past two springs I've been holed up in "labor and delivery." Birthing books.

I think I'll get up from my desk today. Tickle some topsoil. Pet a petunia. Hoe a row of marigolds. Who knows, maybe I'll spend the whole damn day outside instead of laboring over Chapter 26.

It's a nice thought, anyway.

Blessings to you and yours.

Where Do I Go Tomorrow, Honey?

A question I find myself asking a lot these days.

In case you’re wondering about where I might show up next, scroll down on today's blog to view the current list for the rest of the year. Of course, we add to it all the time … and, we’re in the midst of stretching our horizon, going after even larger groups. If you want to see where I’ve been, go to http://www.pamelacable.com/ and click on Appearances. You’ll see every gig since 2005. Last week I had lunch with my speaking mentor who was a bit mowed over with this list … she could obviously see … this chick is serious.

On top of these appearances, there’s a publishing seminar and a National Speakers Seminar I’m attending in April, along with other have-to-go places that lend credibility to my writing career. And … to add the cherry on top … I’m fitting every possible moment into finishing Televenge, working closely with editors … churning it into one hell of a good novel. (Yeah, I'm tooting my horn, here ... but there's a lot of sacrifice that's been made, believe me. Sometimes I think there's too much to do!)

Then just when I think the path can’t get any harder to follow … we have a grandbaby due in June!

But, I have no right to complain. Life is good (er, uh … busy) at the Cable Residence!

March 29, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
Graham Rotary

April 4, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
Women's Group
Duckwoods Country Club
Outer Banks, Nags Head/Kitty Hawk, NC

April 10, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
North Durham Rotary

April 11, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
Archdale Rotary

April 17, 2007
Keynote Speaker, Reading, Signing
The Women's Hospital of Greensboro

April 19, 2007
Keynote Speaker, Reading, Signing
Wesley Long Community Hospital

April 21, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
Bluegrass Festival of the Book
Lexington, KY

May 1, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
Southwest Cabarrus Rotary

May 7, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
The Lincoln Cultural Center

May 11, 2007
Signing
SGNG Rotary Wine Tasting Fund Raiser

May 20, 2007
Reading, Signing
Trinity Historic Society

June 1, 2007
Signing
International Book Expo
New York, NY

June 8,9,10 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
WV Writers’ Summer Conference

September 6, 2007
Guest Speaker, Reading, Signing
E Women Network

The Lure Of Lake Lure

It's not only majestic--it's breathtaking. The mountains surrounding the tiny community of Chimney Rock, NC are a sight to behold. The first mountain range you come to traveling west, away from the Atlantic Ocean ... the locals call these "ocean-front mountains." We stayed at the Lake Lure Inn, and went back in time. To 1927. The Inn is filled to the brim with a collection of antiques worth salivating over. The rooms are small, but clean and beautifully decorated. It's reminiscent of 1927. It's not the Hyatt. It's so much more than that. You can feel time stand still here. I love this Inn.

It’s also the movie-set of Dirty Dancing. I stood on the front porch of "Johnny's Cabin." Oh yes, I could feel the presence of Patrick Swayze dancing around me. Unfortunately, I had to open my eyes and poof the fantasy was gone. We visited Chimney Rock in 2001--the town hasn't changed much in six years. Other than the fact that a company called, Grey Rock is developing some 4,000 acres into gorgeous home sites. I admire them for leaving so much of the land as preserve. They are also the owner of the 2006 HGTV Dream Home. I got a peek!

Talk about views. This house is magnificent and blends into the scenery. Getting an up close and personal look made my day! My new friend, Pat Willingham, Sales Executive for Grey Rock, took Michael and I on a tour of the area, as well. We needed her four-wheel drive vehicle to climb the mountains, but once you get to the top, you realize you’re in the suburbs of Heaven.

The land boom that hit the beach areas years ago is about to hit the mountains in North Carolina. Grey Rock is gearing up for that. The prices are great at the moment, but I doubt it will remain so. There's nothing in the world like your own piece of paradise.

I prefer the mountains to the beach for many reasons. First, you don't have the hurricanes, or the crowding. Houses squeezed together at the beach are not my idea of privacy. Although I love to listen to the lap of the waves rolling in at night, the sounds of the forest are just as soothing to me. I love the mild climate of the Carolina Mountains. And buying land on a mountain means privacy. Any way you look at it. I could go on and on, but my people are mountain people. It's in my blood, so I suppose that's why it appeals to me the most.

It was a relaxing couple of days. I appreciate time away now more than ever. It's a chance to use the excuse ... "I'm on vacation, I'm not checking email."

The lure of Lake Lure is something you need to experience for yourself--at least once in your lifetime.

Blessings to you and yours.

I'm Outa Here

I need a breather. A time to dream. To plan and scheme. A few days away ... to the mountains ... to reflect and read. I need to recharge my battery. I'm weary and need to breathe in some fresh air and eat good food. Sparingly. Drink wine. Heavily. Sleep. Hopefully.

I need a skinny-dip into the oasis of time. A few naked moments to look at where this tractor path I'm on is heading. What kind of field I need to plow next.

Off to the mountains for a two-day retreat with my sweetie. Sip lots of fine wine, allow the springtime to do a number on my senses. Walk a few paths, enjoy an Inn, and come back ready to work again.

Ahhh, the beauty of working for yourself. I don't have to ask anybody for a freakin' day off. I don't have to wait for a weekend when the traffic is heavy and the restaurants are crowded.

All I want is quiet time. Alone time. Time away from the grueling pace of these edits.

I'm outa here. See you Saturday.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Storytelling Gene

It takes more to be a writer than sitting your butt down for a few weeks and pounding on the keys. In truth, you can call yourself a writer because you love to write. But in reality, it takes more than giving yourself that title, to be a writer. I’ve been literally at my computer for the past five years, day and night, with few breaks, studying my craft and writing stories. Prior to that, it was ten to fifteen years of writing stories between punching time clocks. Still, sometimes I wonder if I have the right to call myself a writer.

In addition to writing non-stop for the past five years, I’ve been working the publicity machine and watching my book sales and giving two to three speeches a week. But it takes more than all that to call yourself a writer.

It takes more than crafting three-dimensional characters, raising the stakes, and knowing which word to use for the right amount of description. It takes more than that. It takes more than being inspired by people, places, quotes, songs, or poetry. It takes more than being a good editor and knowing the difference between affect and effect and whether you screwed up the syntax in your sentence.

I love the quote by Willa Cather ~ "The talent for writing is largely the talent for living, and it is utterly independent of knowledge."

Still, you enroll in every class, join writing groups, attend dozens of writer's conferences--sorry, it still takes more than that. With lots of practice, anyone can learn the craft of writing. You can read and reread every damn book on writing, all while you underscore and highlight, memorize, apply, and finally … the craft takes hold, sinks in, you have style … you have strong verbs … you have the right amount of ellipses.

And yet, there's something you must have that cannot be learned, in my opinion. It must be born in you. So many writers are born without a storytelling gene.

You have to be a great storyteller. To tell a great story is a talent that not all writers possess. Storytelling is the basic fundamental piece missing in many books we see on the shelves today. Unfortunately, many shallow writers (not shallow in person but in their writing) get published. Even find a small degree of success. Character-driven stories are wonderful, but unless there’s a story, the entire book is flat.

The dictionary says, story is a narrative, either true or fictitious, in prose or verse, designed to interest, amuse, or instruct the hearer or reader. To what degree does a writer accomplish that? Many books amuse, some provoke a degree of thought, and others have beautiful covers and look nice on our bookshelves. But then, there are some books that move us and keep us awake until we’ve read from cover to cover. In some stories the characters haunt us for days. The plot is so intricately woven, so filled with conflict, you wonder if the writer is telling a story or a truthful series of events. We’re transported. We’re in the story. We see it unfold.

That’s what I want to write. Those kinds of books.

That being said, no writer should ever give up their dream. They must reach for the missing storytelling gene, even if they weren’t blessed with it. Quite possibly that’s how shallow writers found their success. They didn’t give up.

These past five years, I’ve often been asked to critique stories by other writers. Within the first few paragraphs I can tell if the writer has the storytelling gene. They use the English language beautifully. It’s obvious they’ve had formal training. Their command of sentence structure is impressive. But after the first two pages (yawn) I’m ready to quit reading. In my mind I’m saying … try traveling writing. Try nonfiction. Be a journalist, even a food critic. Food critics write great prose! And yet, I can see it in their eyes. They want so desperately to be a storyteller. So I tell them to reach for the missing gene. Join the Storytellers Guild. Work on the story; let your already great characters tell you their story. Allow them to speak to you, don’t force them to do something they wouldn’t do or feel something they don’t feel. Plot it out on paper, raise the stakes, up the ante, make the conflict worse, take Donald Maass’ class, or read his book Writing the Breakout Novel. "That will help you, sweetie. That’s where I'd start."

Some writers have the storytelling gene, and just need to develop it. I read their stories and over time, and wow! They just pop. They improve in leaps and bounds.

And God knows, I don’t have all the answers. I’m sifting through piles of edits of my own work as I sit here. A boatload of edits on my novel from chosen editors kind enough to tell it to me straight. So the lessons continue on my end, as well.

But there’s one thing I’m sure of. I wasn’t meant to write cutesy tales with a funny or a semi-witty heroine that’s only slightly flawed. A character everyone resonates with. A character that finds herself in slight marriage woes, or becomes a part-time sleuth, or has a dreamy epiphany the beach. A character in mid-life crisis and all the familiar problems that accompany that. I wasn’t meant to write cheesy romances or cozy mysteries. Although I like those kinds of stories, (once in a while) it’s not what I write.

I don’t write beach reads. Some of those light stories have me skimming to the end. I want some meat. Give me story. Something to sink my teeth into. Give me … Gabaldon, Kingsolver, and Oates. Give me writers with storytelling genes. And then on top of telling me a great story, give me a message.

Ahhh … now that’s what I want to write.

Forgive me for those misplaced commas, my misuse of a verb, or if my apostrophe is in the wrong place. Let me show you my storytelling gene.

Unfortunately, publishers don't see it that way. They want the whole package. So today I shove aside my storytelling gene, do a search on words that end in ly, and take them out.

Blessings to you and your storytelling gene.

A Writer's Hangover

I'm a temporary morning person. It's 4 a.m. and I can't sleep. Maybe ... it was all the food and drinks at last night's St. Patty’s Day party. With an invitation from our friends, Carol and Dave who own a beautiful home on the lake, we arrived ready to par-tay. Everyone in green, but me, the house was decorated with green streamers, balloons, and little green men around every corner and on the super long food table. This house could've been sitting in the middle of County Cork, Ireland ... it was just that festive.

Filled to overflowing with guests, the food rocked! Corn beef, ham, and all the trimmings. And then ... there was the toddy. The apple toddy. Carol's grandmother's recipe that was handed down to her from the very early days of this country. A mixture of apples and spices and a couple bottles of whisky poured on top, then left to ferment in a large pottery jar, strained and heated. Smooth and wonderful. No wonder our forefathers survived the 1700 winters.

Irish beer and wine, a cake made with Guinness, and four-leaf clover cupcakes ... my friend, Carol ... damn, she knows how to throw a party. Amazing. Of course, all eyes were glued to the TV as the UNC Tar heels rolled over Michigan at the last few moments of the game. New people to meet, new faces, great fun, fabulous food ...

... and a middle of the night hangover.

Ahhh, what a life. The first one in a long, long, long time. No toilet hugging, just a slight headache and stomach gurgles. Time for lots of water and meds.

It somehow feels better sitting here in the middle of night plucking away at they keyboard. I wonder if Hemmingway would agree that writing is a good medicine for a hangover?

Then again, maybe George Washington or Thomas Jefferson would know a cure-all for too much toddy.

Who cares ... it was one of the best parties we've been to in a long time. Since New Year's Eve, actually. My writer friends love parties and having fun. Writing does lend itself to needing a release once in a while. Just as long as I don't see any little green men in the next few hours ... I'll be okay.

Blessings to you and yours.

Perfect Timing

I spoke to a Rotary on Monday. Not receiving the response I usually get, it surprised me, somewhat. An older group, and maybe that had something to do with it. Some of the members were warm and friendly, but the group as a whole didn't have the open arms I've experienced in other Rotary Clubs. Maybe, just like people, the group was having an off day. The President showed up an hour late, the Vice President never showed at all. Or maybe it was me. Maybe I was having an off day.

Then last night I was the Keynote Speaker for a graduation banquet–a fabulous group—Randleman Leadership Development Program. After a delicious meal by The Wild Onion catering--all Mike and wanted to do was sleep. What a feast. Not the typical buffet food of most catering companies. This was real Southern cooking and we found out she's got a restaurant in Randleman! The response to my speech overflowed with warmth. And I received the nicest gift ever for speaking ... pottery! This area is known for its beautiful pottery. All in all, these folks embraced me and what I had to say, bought a lot of books, and I went away with a great inner feeling. I did my best. They liked the presentation. All was well in the world.

Lastly, I received some edits back on my novel. Sigh. There's still a lot of work to be done. I'm not afraid of the work. But some of the comments bothered me a great deal. So I slept on it. Lo and behold, I get up this morning to the following email:

Hi Pam, I just finished the last story in your book. (Southern Fried Women) I'm not apologizing for taking so long to read it. It's not the kind of book one reads all at once. I took my time and savored each story. "Coal Dust on my Feet" left me in awe of your writing talent. It was a magnificent story, excellently written. You will go far in your writing career and I'm so glad I've gotten to know you. Helen

Helen Goodman is the past President of our Sisters in Crime Chapter. I wrote back:

Thank you, Helen. Your email came at the perfect time. A much needed moment. I'm working on my novel and it's grueling. At times, as a writer I wonder what the heck am I doing? Then the good Lord knows when I need something like this and He sends it to me in the voice of a friend. Like you. Thanks again, Helen. It was perfect timing. God Bless, Pam

After I finished the email, I looked down and the two quotes on the front of the program for the graduation banquet stared me in the face. I had laid it my desk last night without reading them.

”Great achievements are not born from a single vision but from the combination of many distinctive viewpoints. Diversity challenges assumptions, opens minds and unlocks our potential to solve any problem we may face.”

“Excellence is the result of caring more than others think is wise; risking more than others think is safe, dreaming more than others think is practical, and expecting more than others think is possible.”

I’m not sure who wrote these, as the program doesn’t give the author. The Randleman Leadership Development Program applied those quotes to leadership.

This morning, I applied them to writing my novel. But nevertheless, Helen's email, the quotes ... it was all perfect timing.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Prettiest Thing About My Legs Is My Ankle Bracelet

True.

My husband, God love him, has the best looking legs I've ever seen on a man. He's six foot two with runner's legs. Though he doesn't run much these days, his calves are amazingly shaped, nice feet (for a guy) and not an ounce of fat anywhere on those long, long appendages. Just fabulous looking legs. It's no wonder the man wears walking shorts ten months out of the year.

Me? Capris are as high as I go. The ole' Daisy Dukes bit the dust back when Daisy was a baby. Maybe before then. I own no less than a dozen pair of black pants and capris. Cute, but black. And we'll not even mention the size.

My legs are not my best feature. I know this. It doesn't make me a bad person. I just have to find my good points and "highlight" them. Then hide the rest the best I can by throwing on black. Or some other dark color that minimizes the mile-wide backside I was born with. I think when God said, "You want legs?" I thought He said eggs, and I said, "Not today, thanks." I missed that one.

Some folks were born with ugly ears. Some women have funny shaped noses and fingernails that resemble round m&m's when painted. Other people's eyes disappear as they age and their hair clings to their head. Awful. But on the flip side these same people have little fat on their butt's and hips, their skin is flawless, and they have fabulous-looking legs!

It's like that with talent, isn't it? You may suck at writing poetry, but I could read your short stories all day and all night. You may excel at storytelling, but I'm not sure you'd make it as a journalist. See what I mean? Not everyone has the entire package. We have mixtures of good and ... not-so-good within our makeup as a human. On the inside and the outside. What we must do is be tolerent, considerate, and allow children to find their own talents without pushing them into one they simply ... don't have. That goes with some adults, as well. Because some folks are still chasing their talent. Some folks spend their whole lives thinking they have the "talent for writing poetry." When in fact, they're great travel writers, could write a killer memoir, even write for magazines, but they suck at poetry. But ... they don't give up. And sometimes, they develop their talent. Through hard work and perseverance.

And yet ... if one sucks at writing fiction, yet the heart's desire is to write novels, should one continue to think one's prose was meant to wear walking shorts or should one really cover it with black pants?

I suppose our readers/agents/editors will let us know in the end. And yet, if one is a true writer, you just look down at your ankle bracelet and admire how pretty your legs are.

You never give up.

Blessings to you and yours.

My Favorite Quotes

For me, as a writer, these top my list ...

“You are an extraordinary woman,
how can you expect to live an ordinary life.”
– Louisa May Alcott


“When you realize who you are, you understand that nothing
can stop you from becoming that person.”
– Christine Lincoln


“The question isn’t who is going to let me;
it’s who is going to stop me.”
– Ayn Rand


“I know for sure that I created this happiness by choice.
And I know it’s really not just one choice that matters,
it’s all the baby choices that will lead you to the ultimate moment,

when you can make the strongest stand
and commitment to yourself
and the life that’s calling your name.”
– Oprah Winfrey


“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet.
Only through experiences of trial and suffering

can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired
and success achieved.”
– Helen Keller


“It is not enough merely to love literature, if one wishes to spend one's life as a writer. It is a dangerous undertaking on the most primitive level. For, it seems to me, the act of writing with serious intent involves enormous personal risk. It entails the ongoing courage for self-discovery. It means one will walk forever on the tightrope, with each new step presenting the possibility of learning a truth about oneself that is too terrible to bear.”
– Harlan Ellison

Blessings to you and yours.

You've Got To Kiss A Lot Of Frogs

You know that old saying, "You've got to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince?" I'm applying it today ... to my speaking career. I think it's all about paying your dues, finding your place in the scheme of a speaker's world, balancing your platform-building with your writing. It's been quite an eye-opener for me this year. And a lot of hard, hard work.

I've basically accepted every invitation that has come my way, with exception of a completely booked day. I have not turned down even ONE organization that has called and asked me to speak at their event. Most, or the majority, have been truly pleasant, rewarding, fulfilling, and enlightening experiences. All over the South. Some more than others. Most folks I've met, I would love to see again and again. Warm and wonderful. Then there are some, you learn lessons that everything that glitters ... ain't gold.

I try to utilize my time well ... one thing that has worked for me is the open mic night where you can perform and get instant reaction to your readings. It's a working event for me and I enjoy hearing what others are writing, as well. Mike and I drove all the way to Charlotte this past Monday to what we thought would be an open mic. At least it was advertised that way. We were the first to arrive at the Joseph Beth Bookstore in a swanky part of town. The room where the event was to be held was dark. So we sat and drank coffee until somebody else arrived. Soon the room was full of aspiring writers. I love to talk to writers and encourage them in any way I can, because they in turn, encourage me. But this wasn't possible, as the room wasn't set up and everybody scrambled just to put their chairs in some kind of order for the evening. At first, everybody got an opportunity to introduce themselves and the type of writing they do ... I was anxious to hear some of them read.

Then I realized, that wasn't going to happen. A NC children's book agent was there. I knew she was going to be there, but I thought she came to hear everybody else read and talk to authors before, during a break, and afterward. Instead, she and her husband talked to the group the entire time. Interesting stuff, but not what I came to hear. I wish it would've been stated there will be no readings tonight. There was no structure, no order and they prided themselves on that. They need to go to the Winston-Salem Writer's Night Out and watch Jennifer and Al in action. There has to be structure and order. Otherwise, it doesn't work. Charlotte, a good hour and half away, was a waste of my time.

Wednesday night, on the other hand, was fabulous. I was asked to teach a class on VOICE and Point of View. Two of my favorite subjects. I found out a few weeks ago that Carol Kenny, another fabulous writer friend of mine, would be on this panel with me. The room at the Winston-Salem library was full of hungry writers, the response was great. Winston-Salem Writers is an extremely active group that supports each other like no other writer group I've been involved in. And as you know, I've been part of many. Carol and I were able to get our "points of view" across, I believe. A great night for writing and speaking.

Yesterday afternoon, I spent lunch with my Divas. The Shundi Divas. Five female writing friends ... totally different ages and backgrounds ... that have come together and found an unbelievable energy together. It's almost a palpable, tangible thing. The sparks that ignite the room when we're in it! Every six weeks. A have-to-be-there event.

My point is ... I'm learning what to avoid and what to cultivate. I'm going to be consulting with a few professionals in the speaking business and take my speaking to a higher level in the very near future. I know it's part of who I am and what I'm supposed to do. The writing and speaking, I've found, go hand in hand for me ... and essentially ... I'm self-taught. In just about every area of my life. Nobody taught Mahalia Jackson, Barbara Streisand, or Diana Ross how to sing. Sure, they may have taken a few voice lessons, but they had the innate talent to begin with. They knew it. They ran with it. They paid their dues. I can only hope that the last several years of working and sitting in one class and conference after another has been preparation for where I'm heading.

Just where that is ... only God knows. What I know is ... I've been kissing some frogs along the way.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Meaning Of Courage

Yesterday, I sold and signed Southern Fried Women as a guest speaker (one of the headliners) at the Healthy Living Expo located in the MC Benton Convention Center in Winston-Salem. An event sponsored by the Winston-Salem Journal, the place was packed by 9 a.m. Well run, this event had folks lined up at booths all up and down the massive auditorium getting their blood pressure checked, tasting free food samples, and discussing their health with one expert after another. My contact with the Winston-Salem Journal, Cheryl Nelson, was top-notch. She was on top of it all and made the event pleasant and easy for the speakers. What a cool head.

I was there ... as a draw. (They said.) And ... I think I drew a nice sized crowed ... at least a few of the folks admitted they came to hear me speak and get a signed copy of the book. (Certainly not as big as draw as ABC's Biggest Losers, who appeared on stage after me.) But, it made me feel good, at least, to see folks gather in the seats to hear me speak. My humorous feel-good speech reminded a few that there's medicine in laughter. I was introduced by a "celebrity" from WFMY who was totally in love with herself and didn't give a rat's behind about giving me a halfway decent introduction. Of course, she'd tell you she wasn't "aware" she was supposed to introduce me. It seems to me if this chick does this kind of stuff for a living, you'd think she'd know how to pick something up at the last minute and run with it. I was totally embarrassed by her. I would've rather had no introduction at all. Okay, enough. I guess I've got this radar for hoity-toity. Sometimes I wish I could turn it off.

Anyway, TV cameras recorded the event and I spoke to a crowd of 70 seated or so, as the rest of the crowd milled up and down the isles. It's extremely difficult to speak to a group like that. It reminded me of The Southern Women's Shows. You don't have a totally captive audience, but I loved the response afterward. Folks lined up for the book. Who knew?

I often wish all I had to do was sit and write. That's what I love to do most. But I know God has given me the gift of speech, and I do know how to do it effectively. So two to three times a week, I'm out there, delivering my soul to the public. Sometimes you feel the love. And sometimes, you don't. But folks are generally kind and that means a lot as you walk in uncharted territory.

I've heard it said (somewhere) that ... to write is a revolutionary act. The nerve to document and publish your views is the meaning of COURAGE. But I think there's something missing in that statement. Although I wholeheartedly agree with it, the missing piece is ... the nerve to document and publish your views is the meaning of COURAGE, and to include yourself as a speaker is beyond courage, it's reckless audacity to put yourself in the line of fire.

Through this entire process, I have danced to the beat of my own music. At the risk of sounding corny, it's a fire in me that I ... simply can't put out. Where this innate drive comes from, sometimes I wish I knew. But when I get in front of people, I feel at home. Always a little nervous, but I feel it's where I'm supposed to be. Talking about my writing. I still wish all I had to do was sit at home and write ... but that's the easy way out for me. I've never taken that road. Something or somebody won't let me.

Blessings to you and yours.

Good News!

FOREWARD MAGAZINE ANNOUNCES
FINALISTS
IN THE EIGHTH ANNUAL
BOOK OF THE YEAR AWARDS

ForeWord Magazine is pleased to announce SOUTHERN FRIED WOMEN as a finalist in the eighth annual Book of the Year Awards. This book represents some of the best work coming from today's independent press community.

Nearly 1,400 books were entered in 59 categories. A panel of librarians and booksellers, selected from our readership, will determine the winners. ForeWord's Book of the Year Awards program was designed specifically for them to share in the process of discovering distinctive books across a number of genres with judgments based on their own authority in each category and on their patron/customer interests.

Gold, Silver, and Bronze winners, as well as Editor's Choice Prizes for Fiction and Nonfiction will be announced at a special program at BookExpo America at the Javits Center in New York City, June 1st from 2:30pm at LIVE@ Second Stage located on the main show floor. The winners of the two Editor's Choice Prizes will be awarded $1,500 each. Please visit our Web site at http://www.forewordmagazine.com/botya to view the complete list of finalists.

Whitney Hallberg
Book of the Year Awards Coordinator
ForeWord Magazine

Contrasting Comments

Yesterday, I spoke to the Kernersville Library Book Club. A group of over 20 men and women gathered on the lower level of the library to listen to yours truly talk about Southern Fried Women, living in the South, Southern accents, writing fiction, and just about the life of a writer in general. These lovely individuals not only bought my book, they added to the presentation with their own stories of home and having their accents noticed by "Northerners."

The best part of that event was walking across the street with a few of the members for lunch. We stood in line to order our food and the sweet waitress taking the orders at the cash register happened to notice one of the ladies from the book club holding a copy of Southern Fried Women. Of course, not knowing the author was standing only a few feet away; the waitress looked at the book and said to the lady, "Have you read that book?" The book club member chuckled, glanced at me, then said, "No, not yet." She paused then asked, "Did you?"

"Yes," said the waitress.

"Did you like it?" asked the book club member.

Drum roll, please. The waitress said, "No, I didn't like it."

You could've heard an ant fart in the room. All the book club members turned their heads and stared at me. It was an awkward moment, but only for a moment. Immediately, I thought to myself ... You know, Pam, every writer must face this at some point. Go for it.

So I smiled and said, "Please, tell me, what didn't you like about it?"

The waitress turned fifteen shades of red and asked, "Oh my God, are you the author?"

I nodded. She nearly fainted. After she seemingly picked herself up off the floor, she smiled wide. "I'm so sorry ... I didn't know ..."

I stopped her in mid sentence ... "Hey, it's okay. Not everybody likes everything a writer writes."

BUT THEN she said ... "Well, I'll tell you, I was expecting the sweet potato queen stuff, and it really wasn't."

And I said, "You're exactly right. You will be disapointed if you expect Southern fluff. I love Southern fluff, and I have all those books. They're funny, light, and are great reads. But some folk are thrown by the title, Southern Fried Women. That's why I added the essay in the back of the book, What Is A Southern Fried Woman. This is not even remotely like the Sweet Potato Queens or the Ya Ya Sisterhood books. There's a very defined edge in the stories I write. They have a dark edge, a message ... along with a spiritual and a religious edge."

By this time everyone was listening. But the conversation stayed light and fun and this very nice waitress nearly tripped all over herself to explain her view in a kind way. I appreciated that and I don't think any of the book club members felt awkward afterward because we all had a great lunch together and talked about the perils of writing and how this is one of them. You never know when you're going to meet opposition. Someone who just doesn't like your work. It's going to hit us all.

After lunch, I stopped at the counter and laid my hand on the waitress' arm and said, "I'm going to bring you a copy of my new book when it's published!"

To which she replied, "OH! Please do! You know I have to tell you, now that I think about it; I really couldn't put your book down! So I guess it really was a page-turner."

I laughed. I will remember her and take her a book. She was young and quite possibly, I won over a fan to the "dark side of Southern fiction." But who knows, really. At least she was sweet about it. She was a true "sweet potato queen" and there's not a damn thing wrong with that.

Then, yesterday evening I spoke to the Mt. Airy Lady Lions Club. An hour and a half drive in pouring rain and wind. Whew. (Note to writers - you show up no matter the weather.) We met the Lady Lions at Libby Hill in a private room for dinner and their meeting. Claudia Bryant, a beautiful woman, introduced me and I have to say she reminded me of a woman who could enter the Senior Miss America and win. Truly lovely.

Despite the weather, the long table was full of Lady Lions. Michael and I sat across from two women who had been friends since high school. I wish I could've recorded their conversation. Having graduated in 1962, these two wonderful women had me in stitches talking about their lives, their children, and their dress sizes over the years.

I spoke and sold books, but the comment that rings in my head this morning made me realize just how different opinions can be. My audience for this particular book (Southern Fried Women) is truly men and women over 40.

A dear lady at the end of the table raised her hand at the end of a bout of Q&A and said, "I have to say, Sheree gave me your book to read a while back and I couldn't put it down. I could've sworn you wrote about people I knew. I loved it. It was one of the best books I've read."

It was the perfect way to end the day.

Blessings to you and yours.

A Day To RECUPERATE

I'm still alive. Barely. I think I'm still breathing ... last time I checked. I wonder, after not blogging for a week ... do my readers stop checking in on me? Well ... sometimes ... you have no choice. My life away from a computer for the past week has been grueling, to say the least. I've checked email a couple times ... but that's about it. My parents (now in their 70s) moved. From middle Florida to near my sister in Atlanta, Georgia. Mike and I helped to pack them up and get them from point A to point B. No small feat.

But the job is done, I've passed the unpacking off to my sister, and we're now recuperating at home with heating pads and lots of Tylenol.

I have emails out the wazoo to answer, mail piled to the top of my door, a book that's screaming to be finished, speaking engagements to prepare for, laundry to the ceiling, bags to unpack, and a ton of other work that's staring me in the face, including a press release that needs done immediately!

... and all I want to do is catch up on my sleep, make an appointment for a massage and pedicure, and read.

I find my life gets in the way of my career now more than ever ... but, family comes first sometimes. So now to catch up.

But first, I think I'll go recuperate some more with a cup of tea and a nap.

Blessings to you and yours.

Random Thoughts

I've spoken three days in a row, to three different groups. Sold ... a whole bunch of books ... I've lost count. I'm tired. Yet tomorrow ... we're back on the road ... off to Florida and to Georgia for a week. Not only stopping at a few bookstores, but this trip is mainly to help my folks move to their new home in Atlanta. Should be fun, but I'll be ready to head home next week, I assure you.

The best part about speaking is meeting great people. I met Tammie Grisso today, what a sweet woman with a stellar personality. People are so open and friendly ... this afternoon, I had one man approach me at the end of my speech, again with tears in his eyes, and he said, and I quote ... "God had to send you here today ... I'm at the end of my rope." Wow. When you can touch lives like that? There's nothing like it. And this man was a man of means. He was no slacker. I'm so moved by the reaction of men and women every time I speak. I feel ... so blessed.

Work on Televenge continues ... I'm getting fantastic feedback ... it's just gonna be a long-ass book. There's no way around it. I think I'll call Diana Gabaldon and Elizabeth Kostova ... get some moral support on book length ...

One of my "fans" sent me a T-shirt and note cards today! How cool is that? "Southern Fried Chick!" She's an awesome woman and owns Sweeties Chocolates and Gift Shop in Winston-Salem. Love, love it when I get fun stuff like this in the mail! The shirt and cards have the coolest little chick laid out on a beach blanket.

My writing friends are popping up everywhere. Ed Schubert just published Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show, Issue Four ... Dena Harris is swamped with work and is working on a book of public speaking that, I'm sure, will be a must purchase for every writer. I know I plan to help her promote it everywhere I go. Carol Kenny ... this woman doesn't stop ... she's about ready to finish her novel Whispers from St. Mary's Well ... one family's historical account of the sharing of souls ... an amazing work. Watch for it ... coming to a bookstore near you! Lisa Wynn and Brenda Shropshire ... Hell on Heelz.com ... look it up. It kicks-butt. But then, if you knew these two hot chicks, you'd know why. Both writers, they're out to take the world of women business owners by storm. Mary Ellen, I'm looking for you to be syndicated by this time next year! Kelly Swanson ... opened for Loretta Lynn recently. She's a storyteller with stage presence deserving of the Oscar. I swear to Gawd.

The diet (or new life change) is going ... okay. It's slow, but sure. We're feeling better; Michael has lost two inches around his waist and 10 pounds. Me? Who knows? I refuse to keep track. I just want to feel better. That's all I want to do. We'll keep you posted. But I got the new Bob Greene book today ... it'll look good with the rest of my sixteen books by "professional" diet gurus. I've got to read them all someday.

Televenge takes a whole ink cartridge to run off. It's now in the hands of 9, soon to be 10 professional readers, editors, line editors ... God help me to get this one right.

I read some of Televenge at open mic tonight. Great group of Winston-Salem writers. The group is evolving and changing as groups do. Missed hearing some poetry slam. I hope I can continue to attend this monthly event. But it seems my schedule is starting to pull me away from a lot of monthly meetings.

It's getting late; we've got to hit the road before rush hour in Charlotte. I may not blog until next week, but I'm never sure how much of audience I have for this damn blog anyway. I keep plugging away at it. Just like I do everything else.

God bless writers everywhere. Keep us all sane, at least for a while.

Blessings to you and yours.

Surrounded By Storytellers

I spent most of Saturday in a room full of storytellers. The most talented Kelly Swanson, Storyteller Extraordinaire, runs Page to Stage Workshop, held at the Greensboro Library. The eight or ten years this woman has perfected her craft is a lesson in never giving up your dream. She has charmed audiences from the podium to the cruise ship. And she's funny. She's really funny. Take a look at her web site http://www.kellyswanson.net/.

The room was packed with mostly women (and, one very sweet guy) already well into their storytelling careers. Talk about a room full of energy. I haven't seen that kind of energy in a room since my Donald Maass seminar back in 2005. (See my web site Journey 2005.) (Then again, there's the Hell on Heelz group, these business chicks are hot with ideas. But that's a blog for another day ...) Anyway, I spoke for about 45 minutes, maybe an hour, about marketing and publicity. My ideas about marketing are pretty much common sense-type stuff, but one that sparked a lot of eyes was how I sent a copy of my book to every First Lady in the South. It just seemed reasonable to me that every Southern First Lady would want to read Southern Fried Women. The response to that has been tremendous. Especially since I'm now receiving handwritten thank-you notes from these awesome women inviting to host events for me.

But then again, common sense stuff to me is truly thinking outside the box. The fact is, I have a husband who is a born salesman. His background in marketing, teaching, and sales has certainly come in handy for me. But here's the thing. As artists, we spend SO MUCH TIME on our craft, that usually we're exhausted when it's time to "sell it." And selling it, my friend, is the hard part.

So although the air was charged with excitement about storytelling, the concern Saturday was how to channel that excitement into getting your work noticed. Storytelling presents a bit of a challenge in my mind in that you have nothing tangible to offer other than yourself and your words. You've really got to have lots of folks who believe in you and your abilities. You need to be GREAT at what you do. Whereas, if you have a book to sell, (you've still got to be at the top of your game) but, the sense of sight and feel comes into play. They've got something to take home with them, remember you by. And if it's a great book, so much the better.

So there are challenges and I respect these folks. They love, love what they do. They are performers, actors, and certainly know how to be a ham in front of an audience. They have a message, they motivate, uplift, and inspire their listeners all with the sound of their voice. It's truly an amazing craft.

Later, Laura Hamilton, CSP, came in for one of the most interesting talks I've heard in a long time. She is a professional speaker, trainer, and consultant. Highly respected in the business and extremely talented. The woman knows how to grab your attention and hold on to it until she's wrung every last drop out of it. She talked a lot about growing your business. Take a look at the website ... http://www.nsacarolinas.org/. The National Speaker Association offers a great deal of encouragement and help to those artists who need to work on their speaking skills.

Every storyteller, writer, actor, painter, sculptor ... EVERY artist at some point in time will need to know how to market their work. When you learn that YOU have got to "clean up your act" meaning your speech and the way you present yourself to the public, then you're part of the way toward the success you're searching for. You, my friend, are your best publicist.

It was an enlightening day. Each person in the room had something to contribute. Again, an amazing group. I felt right at home. But then, I grew up in a family of storytellers. There's nothing in the world like being surrounded by them.

Blessings to you and yours.

Early Bird Or Night Owl?

Not all internal clocks click the same. I am not a morning person. I wished for years that I could wake at the crack of dawn like so many of my writer friends, hop on my tredmill, get my exercises and shower done before six a.m. and then head to my office with a mug of hot, fresh coffee in hand by seven. Then write three chapters of the next novel, and a quick edit ... all before lunchtime.

Ain't happenin' folks.

I have not been a morning person since my conception. I'm sure of it. I used to get in so much trouble for it. Catching a 7 a.m. school bus was next to impossible for me. Getting to work by 8 a.m. ... I still hate the sound of a time clock. I was seldom late, however, but it nearly killed me as my car often broke the speed of sound to get there on time.

People tell me that you become a morning person as you grow older. I wish that were true. My mother-in-law is awake by four or five a.m., she eats lunch at 10:30 or 11:00 a.m. and then is off to bed by 8:30 p.m. We are totally on different schedules. I'm usually eating breakfast when she eats lunch.

Night Owls are often looked down on as lazy, indifferent, and unproductive. "Why can't you get your ass out of bed in the morning?" I've heard that all my life. As I grow older, I'm starting to take offense. I used to hide the fact that I was a night owl. But no longer. As you grow older, you care less about stuff like this. You begin to wear your faults as badges of honor on your lapel. As if you've "earned" the right to have a few. Thing is, I work at home. Working from home is perfect for night owls.

Not being an early bird doesn't mean that if I have a speech to give at 7 a.m. I arrive half asleep. No, not at all. I've learned how to drag myself from the bed to the shower just to wake up. I can get to where I need to be on time. My husband, is not only an early bird, he's a happy early bird, and has learned how to guide me up and out the door. But that is just NOT my routine. And being a night owl doesn't mean I sleep until noon. Not at all. In fact, I can't remember the last time I slept until 9. It just means my body runs on a different schedule than most writers I know.

Being a night owl, for me, means sleep doesn't hit me until sometime after midnight. Morning doesn't come until at least the sun is UP. That means at 8 a.m., I hop out of bed. Nine times out of ten, I'm drinking coffee by 8. But when I'm awake ... it's non-stop work until I drop into bed. My most productive hours are from 6 p.m. until after midnight.

I wish I were a normal early-bird.

But this ole' night owl don't feel like changing her feathers at this point.

Or making excuses for it anymore either.

Yawn ... it's 9:30 a.m. Time for my second cup of coffee.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Edge

Oh yes, I definitely have one. This past weekend presented a new challenge for me. My speech, Coming out of the Dark, revolves around how a writer develops an edge to their writing. As a writer grows older and survives life’s heartaches and hardships, it creates the residue of so much conflict to write about. What events in a writer's life briefly touch or possess powerful magic to influence the stories they create? I talk about what it was in my life that gave me "the edge." It's interesting how you can pack 30 years of one's life in a 30-minute presentation. But, I must do it well because folks are riveted to their seats. It not something they hear talked about much ... the dangers of "religion." Especially here in the Bible belt.

But the response has been overwhelmingly positive. Saturday and Sunday I delivered this speech to two churches. A women's retreat on Saturday, the High Point First Presbyterian Church ladies, gathered at a beautiful lodge north of Greensboro, to spend the day together and reflect on the "JOY of the Lord." I could've talked to these beautiful women all day. Their love and graciousness touched my heart. We talked about how to be receptive and open to the hurting woman who may live or work next to you. It was a beautiful group conversation. I sold 30 books and made lots of new friends.

On Sunday, the men of the Friends Quaker Church in Archdale, cooked breakfast for their sweethearts for Valentine's Day. Precious. Pancakes, and all the fixin's. Over 70 gathered in their fellowship hall before Sunday school to eat, and then ... listen to me. The beauty is, they recorded it! On a quality CD! These folks literally wrapped their arms around Michael and I and insisted they become our home church. I had to smile. The response to my speech was once again, a touching one. Though quiet in nature, these folks heard what I had to say, and did a lot of head nodding. I loved it! Again, I sold another 30 books ... not bad for two days work. But the reward is, there's a two-fold thing going on here.

The word is getting out. About my work AND my message, that church shouldn't hurt. It's being heard. For some, it's the very first time they've heard anything remotely like it. At times, I'm not sure which is the more important. My message or my writing. And yet, I feel they're strongly intertwined. For others, it is a revelation. A confirmation of their suspicions. It's turned into a grass roots effort, that's growing. And I can't help but think this message is going to be huge at some point. So stay tuned, folks.

I feel as though I've taken a new direction, in some ways. Though I love attending writing conferences and classes, (and will continue to do so-as my schedule reflects) but, I'm now content just to stay connected to my few writer friends and the smaller writing groups I've enjoyed. I feel a "calling." To get this book done. To continue my career as a novelist and speaker. I am, for a fact, one of the few solely FICTION writers, with a speech about something other than writing. I feel the combination of the message and my stories is a new approach on the speaker circuit. And it's more than a message really, it's tunneling through one's obstacles - a voice of inspiration and ... oh, God ... here it comes ... that cliche' of a word ... hope.

But the challenge for me these past few days was presenting this message, that church shouldn't hurt ... to the church. And just as I suspected, the community churches are ready for this. They want to hear it. They've watched the "televangelism movement" for a long time and they're more than ready for somebody to step up to the plate. Somebody with a story. Somebody with the guts to say ... "hey, there's more to it than what you see on the screen."

My efforts and concentration for the past months have been on final edits of Televenge, to polish it and get it ready for submission. Michael and I have spared no expense, in time or dollars, to do that. It's an investment. It's what I do. It's, (here I go again) my passion. If Televenge doesn't turn out to be a timeless novel for the ages, or a bestseller, or even an HBO special, (grin) it remains a big part of my life and work. Not all writers are the same. We all have different agendas, different goals, and different ideals.

Thank God for that. Thank God for giving each one of us a different "edge."

Blessings to you and yours.

A Day Away

Yesterday we trekked through Henry County in Virginia, places like the original Homestead of the Reynolds tobacco family, Fairystone Park, and areas in and about the sleepy city of Martinsville. Michael and I write a piece for Piedmont Magazine called Day Tripping. This edition will feature Henry County and it's hot spots.

Well, there's nothing in the Piedmont that's really hot. But that's the allure. That's why folks live there. This pastural land is God's country. There's some industry, furniture making mostly (Bassett and Stanley) but this area of Southwestern Virginia and Northwestern North Carolina holds the Blue Ridge Parkway and (in my opinion) the most picturesque part of the Eastern United States. No doubt about it.

That's why I love this little job. It gets us out for the day, and I get to see parts of the country I love. It's a dreamy time. Of course, stopping at antique stores and out-of-the-way cafes and local restaurants and wineries ... I'm in heaven. But yesterday, the realization I came away with was ... my husband is a damn good photographer. You'll have to pick up a copy of Piedmont Magazine to see yesterday's pictures OR go to http://www.cablecreative.net/ and click on slide show. Take a look around his web site. You'll see some amazing work by a very talented man. Of course, I'm a bit prejudiced, but he truly loves what he does, so much so, he charges virtually little for his services. Does this sound like a commercial? Ah, who cares ... I'm proud of him; he's finally getting to follow his own dream. And there's nothing wrong with that.

My point is, as a writer, a photographer, whatever your niche may be ... getting out for the day, exploring new cities and towns even in the counties that surround your own ... it revitalizes you. Gives you new ideas and prospective. Take a day and go away. Just for the day. It's not expensive, you can come home and sleep in your own bed, but explore 50 miles, 100 miles from your home in any direction and take a good look around. You can research before you go, plan your routes, and make educated stops along the way. Or go blind. Have fun. Just get in the car with your sweetheart and take off not knowing where you'll end up. Take a map so you can find your way back. If you've got a good sense of direction, it's a blast!

It's a day away from life, work, troubles. Everybody needs to do it. It's good for the economy. It's good for you.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Agony And The Ecstasy

The past few weeks have been agonizing during the edits of Televenge, my novel. I think I've read it ... a million times or at least it seems like it. Over and over and over ... and yet, damn! I missed that word! I kick myself ... my brain tends to automatically fill in the word "to" when, it really isn't there. That's why at the present time, there are four designated readers, two line editors, and two professional editors now reviewing the book. By "professional" I mean, I pay them for their services because that's what they do, it's their job to edit books.

I chose these people based on their availability, mostly, and their knowledge of the subject. And, because they're damn good at what they do. Even my readers, read voraciously. They know a good book when it comes out and they buy it. But I also have a pastor reading it, for obvious reasons, a young woman in her 20's because I want to see how much she "gets." The rest will no doubt get it.

So far, I've had a brief review from my first editor ... here are some of her comments:
"It is a great story! Riveting, compelling, coherent, well-thought out, flows from chapter to chapter with grace, interesting and well-developed characters and plot ..."

"And I am sooo glad you were so firm about resisting the urge to peek at the end! I could go on and on extolling the virtues of this book! ..."

"I think you've got it totally right! Maybe someday you and I can have a long talk about the why's and how's this is an accurate portrayal ..."

"When I first started reading I admit I was apprehensive about the length ... I expected there to be either lots to cut, or the possibility of dividing it into two or three books. However, once I started reading it was obvious that there was nothing to cut, and no way would I have wanted to wait a year or two for the second or third parts! I did have to take a break between the first section and the second two because of other work issues that came up, but once I started reading the second section, I was totally sucked in. Thus, the compelling nature of the whole."

"... and it's got "screenplay" written all over it!"

"It was very difficult to put down without wanting to read more."

Ah, the ECSTASY of reading your first "review."

Needless, to say ... she had more to say about what needed fixed, but that would give away the plot and so ... I won't tell you what that part ... (grin.)

Now the AGONY ... you get all this feedback on a novel you hope, for the most part, is done ... and now you have to weed through, pick and choose, and rewrite ... yet again. The next person that asks me "why is it taking so long?" ... POW to the moon!

And I'm reading the hard copy myself, for the first time ... and like I said, I'm finding things I don't see on my computer monitor. Why is that, I wonder? The agonizing part is knowing this book has to be as perfect as I can make it before sending it to New York.

But, hopefully, with any luck ... it will be the sweetest piece of ecstasy I have ever created. I can't wait to share it with you. It's my life's work as a writer, a work that will propel me into another realm. (I'm hoping.)

I'm thankful for my readers, line editors, and editors who are going to town with their red pens! I'm grateful for the support of my family and my writing friends ... Every one of them has been instrumental in my stamina to write this manuscript. Who knows how much longer this process will take, but I assure you, when it's published ... there will never have been an ecstasy so sweet.

Blessings to you and yours.