Tuesdays in DebLand

I realize I’m a bit late in starting a New Year’s Resolution, but it’s still February. Right? Well, this is me playing catch-up with my life. Nothing new, I assure you. But routine is a good thing, I’m told, so I’m embarking on a new one–a weekly blog. (Hence the “Tuesdays in DebLand” title.) I thought I’d start you out with a happy smile. My youngest granddaughter never fails to make me smile.

As some of you know, I lost my mom and my sister in quick succession (May ’08 and Aug ’09, respectively). This double whammy has made the process of grieving doubly intense and really cut into my normal online socialization. But I’m feeling more positive and focused every day and I hope to make these blogs positive, too. The focus will tend toward writing, since that’s what I do.

So, here’s your first piece of insider news: my next book is titled THE GOOD PROVIDER (Nov OR Dec 2010). This is William’s story. He’s the agent who shows up in a couple of stories, including “Finding Their Son.” Here’s a scene from that book that made me certain I needed to write his story.

“Hi, Char, it’s me, Eli. I miss you. I’m pretty sure my life is never gonig to be right without you. Marry me?”

He stuffed the phone back into his pocket. What kind of jerk proposed on the phone–while he still legally married?

He let out a loud sound of disgust and fell backward in the sand. He kept his eye closed for two reasons: the sun and his eyes were starting to water. From some previously undiagnosed allergy. Or a sudden onset cold. Not tears. God, no. He refused to cry in public.

He was so wrapped up in fighting off his impending embarrassment he almost missed the conversation coming from a few feet behind him–until he realized he was the focus of it.

“Wow, Shane. How’d you do that? Point your finger, pull the trigger and he topples over. That was awesome.”

“Why are you looking at me? It could have been William. He was using an imaginary bow and arrow.”

“That’s what you use on dragons.”

The last speaker had an English accent.

“It couldn’t have been us. Any projectile–even an imaginary one–would have made him fall forward because we were shooting from behind.”

Eli opened his eyes. They really were talking about him.

“Then why’d he fall over? Maybe he’s on drugs again.”

Again?

“He’s pissed.”

“How could he be pissed? We haven’t even told him who we are or why we’re here.”

“Pissed is Brit for drunk.”

“Why can’t they talk right?”

“They? You mean me, and I’m standing right here. With an imaginary bow and arrow that I’m going to shove u–“

A bit naughty, but I loved his droll, dry humor. Can’t wait for you to meet him in his own book.

Okay. Enough for today. I’m working on a new story–the first book of twins, which is also the second to last book in this series. (Confused, yet?)

Oh, and my bookclub is reading a very unusual book that has me both intrigued and annoyed. The title is: A Short History of Women. More of that when the Wine, Women and Words bookclub meets. Soon. I promise. Another resolution pending implementation…but it’s still February, right?

Have a great rest of the week! See you next Tuesday.

Deb