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Romantic Writer - November 2006

My Girls On Orble

Our resident Rugby Angel, Dusk Devi, did the MOSTEST post, for the new breed of women out there.

Now I'm going to do this post. A smooshy, loving, girly post.

I am ultimately, and at the core, a romance writer, after all (even if I do like to indulge in the Dark Side now and then. Hey, there's still romance over in the DS...it's just...darker).

My girls are Andrea, of Diet and Health, and the above forementioned Queen (full stop) of Rugby, Dusk Devi.

These girls (women, really, but us over 30's - and under 30's, for that matter - like to be referred to as girls; keeps us in touch still with Hello Kitty and Beverly Hills, 90210...perhaps I'm just speaking for myself here) just walked into my life, through the virtual world of Orble, and straight into my heart.


I feel like I've known these girls all my life. A.H. (Andrea; or Caramella, Caramel Shortcake...anything sweet and sticky and food-related - cause this is so her) and her Freaky Identical Me (as in me) mannerisms...

In fact, sometimes I think we're so similar, when we finally do meet (as I'm sure we will; those backyard barbies at her new place on the coast, while we drink copious amounts of champagne, are already planned), we'll be saying the exact same thing to one another.

Will be hilarious ('YOU'RE the Romance Queen'...'No, YOU are'...'No, really, YOU'RE the Romance Queen'...

Then, the drunker we get, the more Kit and Kate - our heroines - we become...A.H. neurotic, but extremely funny and sweet, and me about to punch somebody out...or go to bed with them. One or the other - as long as it's hot).

And Dusk Devi...

She truly is an Angel, radiating all kinds of light.


She's Sunshine Bear, of the Care Bears.

As to what I am in this sweet little trio...

Cherry Ripe, the girls like to call me. Sweet with a bit of bite?

Am I interpreting this right?

Or Apple Magnolia...which could really stand for the same thing.

Either way, us three have united, and give each other something new and different to what we have in our 'actual' lives.

Our little virtual friendship is beautiful.

And, after all, you can never have too many friends. In fact, I think as you get older, the friends begin to drop off, fade away, and suddenly you're left standing there, wondering what the hell happened to your social life...

Or is this just me?

With these two women in my life, however, I need never be lonely.

They are only a click away, after all.

To my girls, with love.
xooxox

Of course, there are too many wonderful people on Orble, and more I've yet to meet, to mention them all...

KylieW, George, Bryn...
Always, H.J., Ahmed...
LIlla, Karen C, Bumpkin, Milly, Katyzzz...

These are only a few of the sweets in this virtual lolly jar.

Too many that I'm sure I've overlooked (I'm sorry!) or haven't yet had the pleasure to meet.

Cheers to Orble (sorry, Caramel Shortcake)...

And here's a pink champagne toast to you all.

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What Writing Has Taught Me...To Not Take No For An Answer

Writing, that bane of my existence (and great love, too...but really, what's the difference??), has taught me oh-so many things...

How to be humble. Humiliated. Heartbroken...

Yes, there's a theme going on there...I am talking about writing here, aren't I? Not my past love life?

But writing has also taught me how to be tough (sort of). I've developed a thicker skin after countless rejections, and enough people telling me 'Maybe you're just not good enough...'

'Maybe you're not cut out to be a writer...'

'Maybe this is something you should do later in life...you know, when your kids are grown...'

'Nobody makes it in writing these days. You should just cut your losses now.'

Yeah, well. Those people can go kiss my @#$!

(I mean that in the nicest possible way.)

But, yes, these countless murmurings, written rejections (sent to me on such days as my birthday! Come on, Universe! What's up with that??!!) have taught me not to give up.

Sure, there's been times I've almost done it. Almost thrown in the towel, and said 'That's it! I'm outta here!' But I've kept going...

Even after that fall from my bike, when I really did ponder seriously whether to give up.

I got right back on that bike, and began pedaling again (George, or Bullamakanka of Bagman's Gazette fame, helped me the most in getting back on that bike...his words of wisdom will forever be in my heart, and pinned to that corkboard above my desk).

Maybe that doesn't seem like such an achievement to some, but, believe me, it is. Like George says, writing is hard. If I don't go hard at it, I won't get anywhere.

Thank you, George.

The number one thing I can take away from my writing, is that I now don't look at rejections in the same manner. When those lovely letters, sometimes arriving from across the great Pacific, from those New York offices I love (loathe) so much, I used to fall apart. Grieve for this book of mine that (felt like) would never see the light of day...would never touch, or entertain, or make people laugh...make women swoon and men cover the cover so that no one notices they're reading a 'women's book'...

Now, I toss those rejections over my shoulder, in much the same way I envision those editors and agents doing to my manuscript in the first place. I toss it with a snort, and a 'Whatever!'

Then I go back, pick it up gently, and file it away in my Rejection Folder (I don't know why I keep these damn things! I'm holding onto them to do something good - possibly evil - with them one day).

'No' to me these days signals not to give up. To keep on trying. That rejection is relative.

This new outlook of mine has recently helped me in the job front. I've been trying to crack into the hotel housekeeping industry for awhile now, cause a) I felt it would be job that wouldn't take me away from my daughter for too many days a week; b) I plan on writing a romance series set in a hotel, and felt this would be great insider knowledge! and c) I love J.Lo in 'Maid in Manhatten.'

Anyway, one particular 5 star hotel interviewed me, and two weeks later (after I'd watched 'Maid in Manhatten' so many times I thought I could run a damn hotel by now) got the rejection letter in the mail.

Let's just say I was upset. I think my neighbours' are seriously curious (and disturbed) by now at just what I'm receiving in the mail that turns me into a person suffering from Tourette's at the letterbox every once in awhile (or a lot).

But, perhaps because of a folder full of rejections already, I decided not to take no for an answer. I rang Human Resources back, enquired whether if I changed my availabilities would this help.

Apparantly, it would help!

I hung up from her, sat down, and wrote what I thought was a stellar 'reconsider me' email.

The next day, I got a phone call from the hotel, from the same woman, saying the lady who had interviewed me, the Head of Housekeeping, wanted to see me again.

Yes! I thought. I'm back in!

A door had closed on me...but I'd kicked it back open.

The second interview went well. I was seen by three of the management there, and they liked me. They admired my determination and drive at chasing the job, despite getting an offical no.

I guess most people give up.

Not me.

This is the biggest, most valuable thing writing has taught me. No is not necessarily a no. Closed doors don't have to stay closed forever - you can kick them open. Chasing things doesn't always lead you in circles - it can get you places.

And like the author Joyce Spizer says in her book, Rejections of the Written Famous: 'No' is a word on your path to 'Yes.'






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My Alter Ego Vs Me...Or Kit Vs Karina

I don't know about any of you writers out there, but my heroine, whom I lovingly and painstakingly created, seems to have permanantly moved in beside me.

It's like suddenly having an invisible twin...or suffering from some mental insanity. One or the other.

I like to think Kit Sawyer, my heroine, is me. After all, I created her - of course there's going to be similarities.

But, truthfully, she's a glossy, much richer, much more gorgeous and gung-ho version of myself.

She's the me I want to be!

Yes, Kit Sawyer has become somewhat of my idol, too. Sure, she has problems, and issues - I mean, after all, she's being chased by a serial killer, and has lost her job in archaeology, and fallen in love with a man that is most definately not her husband-to-be.

So, yeah, the woman has problems.

Lots of issues tied up there, too, within her...but they're my issues, as well. We are like twins in that manner. We share a similiar history, and an almost identical view on life and what we want out of it.

But this woman is truly fantastic, in a way I long to be. She's beautiful, and rich (did I mention rich?), and ambitious, and has the world I want to live.

She's got the pink Barbie mansion by the sea (stop laughing, all of you!)...the archaeology doctorate and dream job (or, at least, did have this)...millions of dollars in her cash management account alone...and lives in my dream town - a small, seaside one (for the fans out there - all two of you - her hometown, Rastioa, Oregon, is an anagram for Astoria, Oregon...where I've longed to be all my life. Rastioa, however, is not just Astoria - it's a mix of the small, seaside town with a pinch of Surfers Paradise thrown in. Okay, you can really all stop laughing now).

Her days and nights are filled with her one true love - archaeology - as well as romance, and excitement, and pink champagne...

Obviously a big difference to my life (except for the pink champagne part).

She's curvaceous to the point of sexy...
While I'm curvaceous to the point of I've got to give up those chocolate biscuits.

She has long, lusturous, ruby-red hair, that flows about her shoulders, in a perfect manner...
And I have days where I break the brush in my hair of knots. Oh, and when my hair flies about, it ends up becoming stuck across my face, magnetically attracted to my lip gloss.

She wears pink...
Okay, I wear pink.

She has torrid, romantic affairs, or trysts, with that fabulously damaged and hot man in her life, Corky Wyatt...
Okay, perhaps we're really very similiar after all...

Kidding! Just checking if my husband's reading my posts.

Despite my heroine and I's differences, I find myself acting more and more 'Kit like' every day...

Yes, the swearing has gotten worse...
I fantasize about those little trysts with an imaginary character at a more alarming rate...
And I'm ready to karate-chop that nice old courier guy that left a parcel the other day (unless you're one of the two of my fans, you probably won't understand this line...but Kit beats up a nasty courier guy in Betrayal)...

This infuriating woman in my life whispers in my ear very witty, but controversial, things to say throughout the day, particularly to those nasty shopkeepers. She implores me to buy that bottle of pink champagne on the way home from grocery shopping (What the hell are we doing going grocery shopping? she hisses in my ear. We should be in my ghost agency, hunting ghosts...and playing with men like Corky Wyatt).

Sigh. I wish.

Of course, I wouldn't trade my mummy duties for anything...

Alright, I'll just stop the lie right there. No, I wouldn't trade them, that's the honest truth...but can't my two-year-old come along for the ride? The Kit Ride? Live out that fantastic life with me?

Of course, that cannot happen. I know Kit, and her life, isn't real...I'm not really insane, after all.

I'm just suffering from Writer's Schizophrenia. We all suffer from it, sooner or later. Otherwise we wouldn't be writing.

So, to sum up, my Alter Ego is a figment of my imagination, and she's a glossier, tougher, more attractive version of myself.

But the one thing we definately do share in spades?

Our love of pink champagne.


Total Number Of Pink Champagne References in Post: Three (alright, that's a bit better)./I]
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Your Christmas Book Wish List...K.L. Almeroth's Book Club, Edition 3

What is the number one thing I ask Santa for Christmas (apart from world peace and for some kind of magical pink champagne fountain to appear in my lounge room)?

Books. Of course it would be books


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To Dean Koontz, With Love...K.L. Almeroth's Book Club, Edition 2

I have an enormous reader crush on Dean Koontz.

This first developed when I was 12 years old. I'm now 27


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What Are You Reading At The Moment? K.L. Almeroth's Book Club, Edition 1

Apart from my love of reading, and of writing - and of drinking pink champagne! Ha! Managed to squeeze another champagne reference in - I also have an extreme interest in what other people are currently reading, and love to share in discussions on their reading choice.

I often force Husband to read some of my (thousand and one) books, just so I have somebody to talk to about them


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The Pressures of Christmas

Yes, it's that time of the year again. The time when one question begins repeating itself maddeningly in your head:

What the hell am I going to get everybody for Christmas? And how the hell am I going to pay for it


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Addicted To Reading

As a writer, this is not such a bad thing.

Or perhaps it is. Time spent on reading other people's (published) books are my number one reason I'm not at the laptop, typing madly


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November, November...I Wish You'd Go Away And Turn Into February

November has to be my least liked month.

February is my favourite, for obvious reasons - Valentine's Day, and all the romance involved (ie. Hallmark cashing in on cards, love hearts, and chocolate...oh, how I love Valentine's


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To Writing Infinity and Beyond!

I'm getting back on that damn bike.

Who was I kidding, anyway? Myself? I tried to kid all of you. As if I could give up writing


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