My ninth book is hitting the shelves in December. I was recently nominated for best Silhouette Romantic Suspense for 2010 by Romantic Times magazine for my first romantic suspense, To Catch A Killer, and I've just finished writing my 13th book (which will come out in 2011). My publisher seems to really like my work and in a difficult business, I'm doing a good job of carving a name for myself. I have my first true speaking engagement (I'm being paid!) in February where a group of people will gather to listen to what I have to ...
As I look over the last 50-plus years of my life, I am grateful I was born into the male gender of the human race. I'll gladly accept the daily chore of shaving or grooming facial hair over the responsibility of childbirth, I can take my shirt off at the beach without worry of arrest or gawking, and there are rarely, if ever, lines for the bathroom in public venues. In fact, depending on the setting and crowd, all that may be needed for a guy like me is thick brush, a wooded area, or shaded wall.
Winter arrived the other day, just in case you weren't paying attention. It really seems like we went straight from our 90-degree weather to pouring rain and wind from one day to the next, with no time to prepare.
Like many people, I'm fascinated by the idea of time travel. I'm the furthest thing you can get from a science geek but I get giddy at the theory that time travel is possible because it sets in motion all sorts of cool scenarios in my head, like where I would go and what I would do if it were possible.
Even though the weather has radically swayed from cold and rainy to hot and sunny - all within a few days' time - the cooler weather is definitely the signal that fall has finally arrived. Although I think there's something great about every season, to me, this is the best time of year.
Years ago, in another lifetime, October would be a month when I would be pounding a keyboard, getting pages and pages of copy ready … not for publication in a newspaper, but writing the annual Halloween production at the radio station I worked for at the time. For those of you who keep up with my life outside the newspaper walls through my column, last month I dealt with my family's move to a new (to us) house and some 'finds' unearthed through that event have prompted this month's topic.
My two youngest sons, ages 26 and about 30, took off this morning on a camping trip to Point Reyes and I hope they don't murder each other. They are so far apart in nature, argue constantly, and sometimes almost come to blows. I've heard this is normal for brothers. But why are they both so volatile? The least thing sets them off. Why can't they stay calm and equitable like their father, talk things out? Sounds like Professor Higgins.
The newsroom at our office is what my colleagues and I call our "classroom." We sit with our desks lined up facing the "teacher" – our editor, Marg, who is in an office – and we do our "homework," a.k.a. producing material for the newspaper.
This week as I sat preparing my thoughts the words that keep cropping up are: What should I have done? or What would you do?Perhaps I should offer a little clarity on what has me so confused and perplexed.Recently, our family, along with some friends who were here on holiday, visited an area park for some outside activity.It is one of the newer parks, which our three- and six-year-old have come to love, so we were excited to share it with our visitors.When we arrived, the kids scattered in varying directions and so did we. With ...
So much happens in a month. Regular readers are familiar by now with our column rotation, with a submission each week for the 'Perspective' page, myself the first week of the month, Dawn M. Henley the second week, Craig Macho the third week and Kim Van Meter the fourth week. If there happens to a fifth Wednesday, we let John Branch sneak in a column on this page as well.Typically there's a specific topic or event I comment on but this past month has been so busy that there are several issues to address.A big one is ...
On the day this column reaches the newsstands, my oldest son will turn 17. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that concept. Was it really 17 years ago that I brought that nine-pound, 10-ounce kid into this world? I guess so. When I look into his eyes, I see the boy he was, but when I pull back, I see the young man he's turning into.