Dreaming Big Dreams in Phoenix

I had the pleasure of attending an amazing double conference just last week. On Thursday and Friday, I attended Buildin' the Dream. This portion of the two conference event was geared toward authors, editors and publishers. It consisted of workshops lead by those successful in their fields, discussing their experiences and offering solid advice for the attendees, to help them achieve that same success.

 The first evening, we were fortunate enough to be treated to Keynote Speaker, Diana Gabaldan, author of the amazing Outlander series. This tiny dynamo of a woman regaled us with her experiences as a professor and her first foray into writing. She is smart, witty and incredibly funny. I swear, by the end of the evening, my cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much. She is an amazingly talented woman and I admit, I was more than slightly star struck…in fact, by the third time I made up an excuse to chat with her, I was pretty sure she was considering a restraining order.

Friday morning we gathered for a wonderful breakfast. We followed that up with more workshops. The leaders of the conference, Morgan Kearns and Kris Tualla, ran the conference like a well-oiled machine. We had time in between workshops to chat, get coffee, make a call or use the restroom, but we didn’t have so much down time that we were bored or left wandering about with nothing to do.

Friday afternoon, we flipped over from Buildin' the Dream to Arizona Dreamin'. Arizona Dreamin’ is the second portion of this double conference and is geared toward the reader. This is a brilliant strategy, as authors, editors and publishers happen to love books. All and anything to do with books. That’s why we do what we do. I don’t know an author who doesn’t have a ‘to be read’ pile that’s less than a dozen books deep. So putting the two together is grand.

Friday night found us gathered in the ballroom for a night of socializing and entertainment. The entertainment was a singing group called Broad’s Way and they sang a variety of songs from several musicals. They were talented, funny and thoroughly entertaining.

Saturday morning, after breakfast, we gathered in the ballroom as a large group. Seated around several round tables, we each had one author, publisher or other workshop leader at the table with us. When this meeting got underway, that person had three minutes to introduce themselves, tell us about their services or products and invite us join their book club. At the end of three minutes, each professional switched tables, allowing those at the table to meet each and every one of the workshop leaders. It was a wonderful way to get a better idea of what each person had to offer so we could plan our day based on who we wanted to learn more about or spend more time with.

The book clubs were half an hour each, during which, the hostess discussed their experiences in the profession and answer questions. Many had fun games or gave away gifts or free books. (The airport people were not impressed with the weight of my luggage) Trust me when I tell you, this was brilliantly planned and very successful.

When I left the conference, I felt as if I hadn’t spent the weekend at a professional business event, but rather as if I’d spent four days with terrific friends, having a blast and sharing our experiences in the writing industry. From magazine editors, publishing companies, cover artists, to cook book authors, and authors of all romance sub genres, I’ve made more than professional connections. I’ve made lifelong friends. And that, is truly priceless. 

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This Montana Man hero, Jamie Overton is heating things up with Caroline!

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge - Melissa Overton

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge

Melissa Overton is the teen aged sister of Jamie, the sheriff in Walker’s Ridge. She is in high school and hoping to break out of her small town and go to college in the biggest city she can find. She works at a local shop after school and is very active on the ranch and with her friends. Watch as Melissa finds romance at school.

 

Melissa Overton

You won’t believe what happened to me at school today. I was getting my stuff out of my locker and Collin Randolph walked by and in a teasing kind of way, he closed my locker. I think my jaw hit the floor. He looked over his shoulder, grinning and he winked at me. He WINKED at me. ME! I think I about passed out.

Karlee Smith was with me and she did that low whistle thing that she does and said, “Collin Randolph noticed you.”

I was like, “I know, right?”

I totally tried to play it cool but I think I had this stupid grin on my face all day. We don’t share any classes so I didn’t see him the rest of the day. I kinda tried to watch for him in the halls but without making it obvious that I was watching for him, you know what I mean? But I didn’t see him.

Karlee kept asking me if I saw him and I think she was almost as disappointed as I was when I told her no after almost every class. Except trig, of course, because we’re in the same trig class so she knew he hadn’t talked to me.

I’m so going to spent two hours figuring out what to wear to school tomorrow. Today I wore skinny jeans tucked into my black boots and my black sweater…the one with the buttons on the sleeves…but I don’t want to wear black again tomorrow. I can wear skinny jeans and boots every day, but not sweaters and not black every day. B O R I N G.

Maybe I should go shopping for new clothes. And boots. Obviously boots. But maybe some cute tops that don’t smell like horses. Maybe I should get highlights. Or a trim. I’ll ask Harmony what she thinks when I go to work tomorrow. She has such good taste. She’s got great jewelry in the shop, too. I can look for some cute earrings. If I wear my hair right, the earrings will show. In that case, they need to be sparkly earrings. Sparkly is always good.  

Right now, I need to haul butt and get my chores done. A couple of the horses need exercised today and I have a ton of homework. I sure hope Karlee’s home tonight because I’m so gonna need help with my trig homework. 

Later Gator,
Melissa

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge Elizabeth Overton

Wednesdays With Walkers Ridge

Miss Elizabeth is a strong woman. After the death of her husband Jim, she poured herself into the raising of Jamie and Melissa, running the ranch and her volunteer work at the church. Now Jamie is grown, the sheriff of Walkers Ridge and a family man. Melissa is 17 years old, doing well in school and looking forward to college in a big city. The ranch is a well-oiled machine that runs well under the supervision of Jamie and ranch manager, Juan Trujillo. What will Elizabeth do with herself as her role in life changes? Read her blog below to learn how she is handling this transition.

Elizabeth Overton

Well, it’s happening. Jamie moved into the farmhouse with Caroline and they’re raising JT. How on earth did I become a grandma? Jamie is moving forward with the adoption proceedings and they’re both loving having their baby boy home.

I’m trying to respect their privacy and not drop in every day to play with JT, but it’s difficult to resist. I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes I don’t even make the attempt. Sometimes I just march right over and knock on the door.

Thankfully, Caroline has been nothing but loving and gracious. She’s worked miracles around here. She’s restored the farmhouse to the state it was in when my mother was alive, she’s showcased some of my mother’s prized quilts, she’s softened Jamie in a way I didn’t know what possible…the girl is a Godsend.

 Melissa is finishing her junior year of high school in a few months. We’re planning senior pictures, she’s hard at work with plans for her graduation party…I believe everyone in Walkers Ridge will be invited…and she’s mapping out an itinerary for college campus visits that will likely take months. There isn’t a single college campus on her list that isn’t listed in a major metropolis.

I tried to get her to at least visit some of the more local colleges but she wouldn’t have it. Montana State University has excellent research and science programs, including horticultural and biotechnology, which is where her strengths are. The University of Montana has terrific research facilities as well, and she could study environmental science and law or journalism. She swears she wants to live in the big city and get away from the ranch even if she does want to study agriculture, horticulture or the environmental sciences. I think I will ultimately lose this battle.

Regardless of where she decides to attend college, the fact is I’m turning into an empty-nester. I didn’t anticipate this part of life, at least not yet. A year ago, Jamie was still at home and not even involved with anyone, let alone a family man with a newborn son. Melissa was a silly teen enjoying the company of horses and her girlfriends more than anything else. Now Jamie has moved out and Melissa is planning to do the same as soon as possible. Where does that leave me, I wonder?

 Sometimes I think about the days when Jim and I were starting out. We married in 1984 and immediately began working toward our dream of a large ranch. We spent every penny we could on buying land. We started with such a tiny little lot adjacent to Mom’s farmhouse. Initially, we didn’t even have a house. We bought a little mobile home and lived in it for two years. The plan was to build a house but when my mother became ill, it just made more sense for us to move in and help take care of her. We spent everything we could save on buying more and more land, always adjacent to our existing lots until eventually, we had several hundred acres. We built the original house after Mom moved to the nursing home. It’s odd to think about it  but in reality, Jamie and Melissa spent more of their childhood years living in the small farmhouse than they did in this house. I don’t know that I’ve ever considered the farmhouse as anything other than my mother’s house but I imagine the kids consider it home. For me, this is home. The house  Jim and I planned for, drew out on scratch paper and built together. The home we shared until the day he died. The home that protected me during months of grief when the only thing that got me out of our bed were the needs of our children. Now our children are strong, independent adults who are stepping into their adult lives much faster than I would prefer.

So at the risk of repeating myself, where does that leave me? When Jim died, I thought the woman in me died with him. The passionate, sensual side of my life was over. However, after the demands that have consumed my day to day life for so long lessened, those emotional and physical needs are reawakening. With no husband, I’m not sure what to do with them, but they are making their presence known.

Oh I’ve had offers from men. Occasionally I would consent to a dinner date. There was no chemistry, no spark, nothing to ignite my senses and encourage me to continue with more than the sporadic evening out. Now I’m wondering how to begin that portion of my life again. Do I sign up for one of those computer dating services?  Is that how it’s done these days?
I can count the number of single men from church in one hand. I’m more likely to win the lottery than I am to start going into the city and start hanging out at clubs. I can’t exactly place an ad in the local paper.

So maybe that part of my life is over, even if my body doesn’t want it to be so. Perhaps I will simply have to find another way to bring additional companionship into my life. I wonder if this is how one becomes the crazy cat lady…this insatiable need for companionship with no foreseeable way to obtain said companionship. Something to ponder.

Blessings,

Elizabeth

It is my absolute pleasure to welcome Christina Cole to my blog today. She's talking about two of our favorite things, being a lady and the old west. I think you'll enjoy her perspective as much as I did.

 

Feel free to visit Christina's blog, Christina Cole Romance to learn more about her books.

 

 

How to Be a Lady – Old West Style

 

By Christina Cole

 

When we think of “the Old West”, most of us probably think first of cowboys, those handsome, rugged men who rode the range, who roped, wranged, and wrestled their way into history…and into our hearts.

 

But, what about the ladies?

 

Truthfully, being a woman has never been easy. Consider all the expectations and demands placed upon us.  We work hard. We put meals on the table, we raise children, we hold down full-time jobs…and then some.

 

I love this little quote from Ann Richards:

 

‘After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.’

 

Yes, that’s the way it’s always been for a woman. As for “being a lady”, that involves an entire new set of rules and restrictions. Today’s woman, of course, has “Come a long way, baby”, but for females living in the old west, standards were strict.

 

I think, in a curious way, one of the reasons I enjoy writing historical romance is because of the restrictions and limitations placed upon women. In my own life, I’ve always been taught to question authority, to break the rules, if necessary, and to stand up for what I believe. I like writing about women — like Kat Phillips in Not the Marrying Kind — who don’t fit the traditional mold, women whose willingness to bend, or break, the rules can sometimes lead them into trouble. Of course, in time, it can also lead to love and happiness.

 

But, I digress.

What was required of an American “lady” in the late 1800s?  She was to dress modestly, to be clean and tidy at all times, to care for her home and family, and above all, to comport herself properly and mind her demeanor at all times.

 

Here are a few rules on how a proper lady was supposed to behave in public:

 

Be still. A woman was expected to be quiet and reserved. Noise was believed to derange mental faculties and incapacitate the mind, making clear thought difficult. A loud, boisterous woman was unbearable.

 

Watch your words! Ladies were instructed to speak properly and to avoid any use of “slang” – which might carry hidden messages that an innocent young woman would not even realize she was sending.

 

Keep your thoughts to yourself. Even as the virtue of honesty was touted, women were expected to bite their tongues and keep many of their thoughts to themselves. A good woman was not supposed to “speak her mind”. Frankness was not a character trait to be admired in a female.

 

Never boast! Women were advised to avoid speaking foreign words because it implied that others were less intelligent. Nor was a woman supposed to correct another’s mispronunciation or a factual inaccuracy. Of course, boasting about wealth, family, or position was considered “silly” and tiresome.

 

Give and accept apologies when needed. A true lady would always accept an apology with grace. Of course, she would also quickly offer an apology for any wrong she committed.

 

Listen carefully. Along with being still and keeping her own thoughts to herself, a good woman was always willing to listen to others — whether she wanted to or not. To do otherwise would make her appear indifferent. True politeness decreed that she should listen patiently and respond with kindness.

 

Guard your laughter.  For a woman to laugh at her own wit or cleverness would be gauche, indeed. She also needed to be very careful to laugh at only the proper times. Interrupting a funny story with premature laughter would spoil the moment, and, of course, no woman would ever laugh, or even smile, at humor that was off-color, offensive, or inappropriate in any way.

Never gossip! Women who gossiped were considered unreliable and untrustworthy at best. At worst, a gossip would be viewed as malicious, uncultivated, and empty-headed. A true lady would never talk behind a person’s back nor share unfounded rumors with others.

 

Don’t give other women the “once-over”. This was a sweeping glance that took in another woman’s appearance and, in an instant, judged that woman to be lacking. It was proof that a woman had an unkind heart and a vulgar, uncharitable soul.

 

Treat your enemies with kindness. A lady would treat everyone with kindness, of course, and this dictate extended even to those whom she considered “enemies”. In fact, a woman was expected to treat enemies with even greater consideration and respect than she might show to a good friend. Doing so would allow her to feel noble and strong. Of course, she was required to keep those feelings to herself and not boast about her kindness.

 

And last, but not least, is this counsel:

 

Kiss sparingly! A kiss was meant to be a sign of pure, eternal love, not a token of affection to be shared casually. Even among couples who planned to marry, kissing was to be indulged in very infrequently. There was always the chance that an engagement might be broken, and too much kissing might lead to a broken heart. Promiscuous kissing — heaven forbid! — was a shameful act. No true lady would ever engage in such sinful behavior. Besides, kissing was dangerous to a woman’s health. It could spread contagious disease.

 

I never tire of reading about the past, about the lives of women and the roles they played in bringing “civilization” into places where it had not existed before.

 

Whenever you read the history of a new settlement, you’ll find the men arriving first, creating a rough, lawless, uncivilized land. But then, they would bring in the ladies, and the land would change. Women brought love, the values of home and family, the need for law and order. Women brought education, schools, religion, churches. Women brought the need for shops and stores, pharmacies, fabrics. Women truly changed the world.

Of course, I suspect that many women “played by the rules” in public, yet freely broke a few of them in private. Like that rule about speaking her mind. Or the rule about watching her words. And especially that one about kissing.

 

* * * * *

Christina’s latest historical romance, Not the Marrying Kind, is now available from Secret Cravings Publishing and other online booksellers. To read excerpts and learn more about the story, the characters, and “The Sunset Series”, please visit Riding into Sunset - Stepping Back in Time.

Caroline Edwards

Caroline Edwards is the heroine in This Montana Man, book one of my Walkers Ridge Romance series. I hope you enjoyed getting to know her and Jamie, the sheriff of Walkers Ridge, Montana, as they fell in love. And I hope you enjoy this visit with Caroline as she blogs about the changes in her life. Enjoy.

Love,
Angela K Roe

Caroline Edwards-

I can’t believe he’s here. I look at JT and am amazed that this most perfect, tiny person is my son. My son! I LOVE this picture of Jamie holding JT. Isn’t it perfect?

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Caroline Edwards and as you can probably tell, this is the first time I’ve tried blogging. That’s probably silly since I’m a romance writer and should blog regularly. My editor has always told me that blogging is one of those things that if you’re going to do, you need to commit to doing it right. I guess that’s good advice but it’s sort of made the idea of blogging intimidating, if that makes sense. Now that the baby is here and I can blog more for fun than marketing, I figured it was a good opportunity to jump in and see what it’s all about.

JT was born two weeks ago in the diner, of all places. Can you imagine? That’ll be a story to tell him when he gets older. Daisy has already made it perfectly clear that she has special claim to the baby since he was born in her diner. I can’t argue with that, plus it gives me a chance to get a cup of the best coffee in town. (Don’t tell Harmony I said that!)

So we had the baby in the diner and as soon as he was born, Jamie proposed…I probably should have led with that, now that I think about it. That’s how JT got his name. Jamie proposed and named the baby James Thomas Overton IV. Whew, that’s a mouthful! Jamie’s grandfather went by James, his father went by Jim and Jamie goes by Jamie so JT makes perfect sense for the newest in the line of Overton men. Jamie filed adoption papers two days after JT was born.

Now we’re home with this most perfect and precious child and I can’t imagine what my life was like before he was here. Right now, we don’t even mind getting up in the middle of the night. I’m told that will change soon…both the midnight feedings and the not minding! J

The only thing I’m really struggling with at the moment is the nursery. The women of Walkers Ridge were so fabulous stepping in and helping me put it together. I didn’t know if I was having a girl or a boy so we decorated in all the traditional pastel baby colors. I loved it when we did it. It’s just that now he’s here and he is a he…I think I want to redo it.

Jamie says I’m being silly. JT has no idea if the walls are striped or plaid or blue or white. He’s right but when we did the nursery, I thought the room was perfect for a girl or a boy, but now I think it’s too feminine. I probably won’t make a decision right away. I’m too tired at the moment to consider painting his room or shopping for new bedding. Right now, when I get any free time, I’m either napping or planning my wedding.

We hit a major roadblock as soon as we started planning. When Jamie approached Reverend Snell to find out what dates the church had open, we were told that he had reservations about the fact that we’re living together before the wedding and how Jamie is adopting JT before the wedding, essentially making him born out of wedlock. Since I wasn’t married to his birth father, he was born out of wedlock regardless of whether Jamie chose to adopt him or not. Plus, even in small town USA, I find it difficult to believe that no couples live together before they get married. Maybe it isn’t the best way to do things but that should be our decision, shouldn’t it?

Anyway, the entire thing has left a bad taste in my mouth and now I’m not even sure I want to attend services there, let alone get married there. Jamie’s entire family has attended this church for generations. Elizabeth has pictures of her wedding in this church, pictures of Jamie and Melissa getting baptized there…I worry about what she will think if I do decide that I’m not going to this church. Look at me, potentially rocking the in-law boat before I even have in-laws!

Stay posted to see what happens next. In the meantime, JT is just waking up. You know what that means, right? It means I have a hot date with a little man who needs a diaper change and a bottle. J

A Letter to Newtown Connecticut

As the nation celebrates Thanksgiving and the world turns its attention to Christmas, the families in Newtown Connecticut are struggling with the first anniversary of a horrible event. On December 14, 2012, a sunny, Friday morning, a mentally ill young man blasted through the security doors and shot and killed 20 children and 6 adults.  The joys of the holiday are significantly dimmed, if not absent for many. And how could it be otherwise?

Prayers for and from the families impacted by this terrible tragedy have been many. As they come to me, filled with anguish, I offer this to you.

Those who lost their lives felt no pain. They were not afraid. How is that possible, you ask? I brought their souls home to me before the shooting began.

Think of your home. It’s a structure. It shelters and protects you. You decorate it with things you like and the attic becomes filled with memories. But your home is not who you are. You are separate from that structure.  The body you live in while on this journey, houses your soul. You decorate with clothing you like and you store your memories in your attic. Your soul is the essence of who you are. It’s what makes you different from everyone else but it is separate from your body.

If, while you’re in your home, your house is suddenly damaged in some way, you are likely to be hurt and afraid. If, while you are away, a window is broken, you don’t experience either pain or fear. Inconvenienced or annoyed, perhaps. Sorrow if something of value is also broken, but your body doesn’t suffer.

So it is with your soul. If your soul is in your body at the time your body is injured, you feel the fear and distress. A fall, a broken bone, an illness…you’ve all experienced such things. However, if your soul is not in your body at the time of the event, it is like that window being broken in a house while you’re away. You understand what happened and you feel the sadness and sorrow that such an event brings but you do not feel discomfort and you’re not afraid. I brought the souls of each of those lost to me prior to the shooting. They know what happened but they felt neither terror nor agony.  

Please know their souls are here, with me. They are healthy and happy. They do not miss you the same way you miss them because they are with you always. When you feel a sudden memory overtake you, they are with you. When you hear their voice in your mind, they are with you. When you know with absolute certainty that if you turned quickly enough, you’ll see them standing behind you, they are with you.

And when you feel absolutely empty, I am with you. When you feel alone and abandoned, I am with you.  I am always with you.

Thanksgiving and Christmas will not be the joyous holidays they used to be for the families in Newtown. It will never be the same as it was before the shooting. It will turn, eventually, from a marker of a terrible reminder. It is a long journey that has smooth roads and rough patches. Know that whatever road you’re traveling, I am with you.  You are never alone. 

Love,
God