Archives for March 2012

The Anniversary Post

*music plays softly in background* *candles flicker*

Come here, Blogosphere!

*No answer*

Oh, Blogosphere!

*Still no answer*

Ohhh baaabbyyy…my sweet baaabbbbyyy….you’re the one…

What!?! Sweet God, stop singing!

Hello, Blogosphere.

What do you want? And why are you wearing cropped pants that are way too tight?

Well, love is strange.  *swishes side to side* Do you like them?

I’m seeing parts of you I never wanted to. You look like you’re trying to reenact a scene from Dirty Dancing.

Maybe more than one. *smiles flirtatiously* *draws square with hands* This is my personal dance space.

I Did Not Get A Phone Call

Shockingly enough, I did not get a phone call on Monday to tell me that my book was a finalist for the RITA awards.

For those of you who are not romance junkies (like me), the RITAs are the awards that the Romance Writers of America (RWA) gives out to published romance novels and novellas every year. Think of it as the Oscars of romance.

This year about 1200 books were entered in a number of categories. Those books were culled down to a handful of nominees. The winners in each category will be announced at the RWA’s national conference in the summer. Monday was the day the RWA called the nominees to let them know that their book had moved into the final round of judging and were up for the awards.


This week the forsythia bushes at the Palatial Horvath Estate decided it was spring.

The feline occupants of the Estate decided it was spring about three weeks ago when they began merrily shedding all over everything – including me. The ducks and other wildlife visitors to the grounds of the Estate decided it was spring about two and a half weeks ago when they began their various mating rituals. The pussywillows on the Estate decided it was spring about two weeks ago when they burst into full catkin glory. But last week was the week of the forsythia.

Advice To The Author As A Young Woman

While perusing Facebook the other day, I saw a post from my editor, Rhonda Helms, saying that she has contributed to an anthology of letters by authors written to their teen selves.

That started me thinking. What would I tell my younger self if I could? What advice would I give? Of course, I’ve already written some posts on the subject, but it made me wonder. Then I thought, what if I could only tell young Betsy one thing?  What if I could only impart one priceless pearl of wisdom?

Headlights and Strobe Lights

Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.

E. L. Doctorow

When I’m at the point I’m at now in a first draft, I cling to this quote from E. L. Doctorow as if it were Dumbo’s magic feather. I tell myself that I’m actually getting somewhere, even though I can only see a few feet in front of me.


“Hope” is the thing with feathers

It is a gorgeous day here at the Palatial Horvath Estate. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the wind is warm, the forsythia is budding. It’s the kind of a spring day that makes you feel like spinning around in a circle with your hands held out while you sing “the hills are a-liiiiivvveee…”


Or maybe that’s just me.


So, being that it’s such a nice day, I thought I would share one of my very favorite poems by one of my very favorite poets – Emily Dickinson. I love her so much that I named one of my cats after her.