Friday, October 30, 2009

NJRW Conference Rocked!

By Karen Cino
President, RWA/NYC


This past weekend, I attended the “New Jersey Put Your Heart in a Book” conference.  A new conference in a different state...perfect! There were, however, a few obstacles to get over before it officially began.

Tanya picked me up on Thursday morning. After a quick lunch at my house, we were off. We quickly settled into our rooms. We planned on looking through the workshop schedule, but it didn’t turn out that way.


Now you know the weekend was not going to go by without a couple of incidents. Like…a brief plumbing problem. You must be saying it is impossible, especially after our Washington story, but it’s true.  Next came a simple request. A small table. Well, after dinner, we were pleasantly surprised to see that the table was delivered to Tanya’s room. A banquet table.  We both brought the table down the hall, onto the elevator, with Tanya hanging over it to push the elevator button. Oh yes, another wonderful scene. You just can’t make this stuff up. And let’s not forget another false fire alarm. What’s going on? Two conferences, and two false fire alarms causing chaos. I just rolled over and said, who cares.

Wow. Once we got over those obstacles, we were in the home stretch.

We breezed through registration, and met up with Carolyn Gibbs, Lis Eng and Cathy Greenfeder for lunch. Everything was going well until I wound up with a sore throat and fever. But that didn’t stop me. I was off to the workshops. First up was “How to Cook up a Suspense Novel” with the husband and wife team of Jim and Nikoo McGoldrick writing as Jan Coffey. From there I strolled to Kathy Kulig’s “Screenwriting Tips for Building a Novel”. Oh yes, dialog is the most important ingredient, so onto another workshop.


The Golden Leaf Book Award Ceremony was awesome. Our very own Anna DePalo won for her short contemporary novel, THE BILLIONAIRE IN PENTHOUSE B.

The rest of the conference was filled with parties and socializing with friends, new and old. Former member Irene Weissman entertained with countless stories of inspiration.

We rocked the house at the NJRW Conference after- party singing Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York. We had a great time. I was proud to be there representing our New York Chapter. I left with renewed hope, dreams and inspiration. ♥








PICTURES COURTESY OF KAREN CINO AND KWANA JACKSON.
Picture 1-- Bathing Beauties Karen Cino and Tanya Goodwin
Picture 2 -- Golden Leaf winner, author Anna DePalo
Picture 3-- At the table, Carolyn Gibbs, Isabo Kelly, Leanna Hieber, bookseller Stacey Agdern
Picture 4-- Megan Frampton and Kwana Jackson
Picture 5 -- Carolyn Gibbs and friend
Picture 6 -- Tanya Goodwin and friend
Picture 7 -- Leanna Renee Hieber at booksigning
Picture 8 -- Cathy Greenfeder and Lis Eng

Please visit Kwana's blog for more pictures and commentary.


Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Bits & Pieces: Leanna Renee Hieber

This is not the first time that I profile Leanna.   I met her for the first time at the first Lady Jane's Salon, and although I have not been able to attend them as frequently as I would like, the last one I went to was the The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker book party.


I was humbled when Leanna walked into Rectangles on the Upper East Side, apologizing for being a little late as she had been promoting Strangely, and was fresh off of the New Jersey conference this past weekend. We were not together for five minutes when she confessed, "I am trying to run to catch up to my own life all the time."

We dived right in from there.  The thing about Leanna is she pulls you in immediately. When I see her, I am always inspired. I dressed in pseudo-Victorian garb--my top--which she commented on, and I was very delighted.  And, now I know where to get a corset!  Leanna's spirit is so large, and she is so genuine. She is going so many places at once, but is so grounded. I kept being afraid that I was not going to be able to capture everything, and then I realized that this is only supposed to be bits and pieces. Enjoy these bits of Leanna's star.  It's like looking the sun in the eye, which you cannot do, but with Leanna....You absolutely can.



When I was a kid I wanted to be an ornithologist. Bird was my first word, and I loved the imagery of birds in flight. Flight would be the super power I'd have, if I could have a super power. People talk about spirit animals.  I have a birthstone (pearl), and an astrological sign (Gemini-Cancer cusp), and I believe that the bird is my spirit animal. Because of my high energy and chirpiness, I am told I am birdlike. Birds show up in my stories, and I have a bird tattoo on my back which I designed myself. The bird in the center represents my muse, and the feathers around it are the characters in Strangely Beautiful.

There is not a single art form I have not done. Writing is just the thing I have always done the most of. I have always been a storyteller; I was telling stories before I was writing them. I think visual art is static. I need the alternate reality aspect of writing. Theater is fun for alternate reality aspect, but you are limited to what is in the play. You can only be in 'Dracula' so many times.

I am an old soul, with a optimistic side.  And, when you mix the old soul with the eternal child (Gemini is the eternal child) that is what I am.

My own reality has been interrupted by characters from other worlds.  I do not feel all of my characters like the
Strangely Beautiful characters, which is why they are tattooed on my skin. I was just out of college when Percy walked into my life.

My playpen is the 19th century. That is where I have these fantastical settings.

Light versus dark is always going to be my favorite theme.  Where is the fine line between those things? Also, outcasts finding friends, if they are deserving of it.  If I throw them into codependency?
I am not interested in that in my personal life or my fiction.

I gravitate to the darker side of things.  I have always believed in ghosts.

My fuel is love for what I am doing.  I feel very blessed to have a dream come true.

The best thing about extra work (in acting) is that there are no expectations of you, and I have a lot of downtime to write. Writing is the only art form where unlimited festivity has unlimited possibility.



Monday, October 26, 2009

The Happiest Couple on the Block

by Jerrica Knight-Catania


Jerrica and her husband, Eric, met on move-in day at Manhattan School of Music more than 12 years ago. They were in the same tiny class, had the same major, and all the same friends, but for some reason it didn’t occur to them that they were meant to be together until almost 4 years later. They’ve been inseparable ever since and have collaborated on more projects than they can count. As they embark on their 30s, they are elated to welcome a new baby into their lives, as well as a new business venture…and who knows what else!



The Happiest Couple on the Block


A couple years ago, as my hubby and I downed beers at our favorite local haunt, we started talking (and taking notes) about what an awesome couple we were. Yes, we were a little tipsy, and the notes only got more and more cryptic as the evening went on. But, in light of our realization, we decided we knew and understood a great deal about love and relationships, and that we had a lot we could share with others.

Fast forward two years and we were still talking about what to do with all this “happy couple” knowledge we had. We had been watching and listening as friends and family members complained about their relationships over the years. We aren’t the type to usually give unsolicited advice, but certainly when we were alone, we shared our thoughts and opinions about why and how these people were so unhappy. And after two years, we had a good amount of notes on a wide array of topics pertaining to marriage and relationships.

Finally, we put our noses to the grindstone and set to work. Our plan was to have the book written and available for purchase online as an e-book by October 9. But once we got into it, there was no stopping us. Two weeks from the initial planning meeting, the book was done (under the pseudonyms Aaron and Jessica Walters), the site was up and we embarked on our marketing blitz.

So, you might be wondering what kinds of things we talk about in the book. I will say, I think it’s quite different from most advice you’ll find on the bookshelves. We aren’t trained marriage counselors, and we don’t use any “therapy lingo”, we simply have observed and learned from our own relationship what it takes to keep the love alive.

We received a note from one of our readers the other day stating, “I like your frank talk and sometimes outright scolding!!... You two seem to have a handle on some real issues that other books would not even mention.” We talk a lot about taking responsibility rather than always casting the blame on your partner, even if the partner’s behavior is truly undesirable. And we address how working on yourself is the first step in affecting change in your relationship. We might be a little in your face, and people might not agree with everything we say, but we do believe in what we teach…and we practice it, too, which is why we consider ourselves THE HAPPIEST COUPLE ON THE BLOCK.

The book is available at our site, http://www.thehappiestcouple.com/, for immediate download. And we also update the blog quite frequently with tips and anecdotes.





BIO: Jerrica Knight-Catania’s A GENTLEMAN NEVER TELLS will be released next year from Second Wind Publishing. It is the first of her Wetherby Brides series. Visit her at http://www.jerricasplace.com/, and visit the happy couple at http://www.thehappiestcouple.com/.

Friday, October 23, 2009

The Mystique of Chanel No. 5

By Polly Guerin, Fashion Historian


The world's most legendary fragrance and the House of Chanel's most famous perfume, Chanel No. 5, is not the first perfume to ever have emerged on the fashion scene. Poiret, the fashion designer who freed women from the corset and created slim hip sheaths that were all the rage in the Jazz age, was also the first fashion designer to create a perfume. He worked with chemists to concoct mysterious, Oriental scents. He created the "Poiret" woman with Le Fruit Defendu, Nuit de Chine, L'Etrange Fleur, even Borgia.
           However, the legend still holds Chanel No. 5 up as the number one perfume that has been on sale since its introduction in 1921. The House of Chanel claims that a bottle is sold worldwide every 30 seconds.

          Parisian couturier Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel commissioned Ernest Beaux, one of the most celebrated perfumers of the era, and, as we know today, these men are called the "Nose" of the industry. Well, Beaux' nose was inspired by his military sojourn above the Arctic Circle during World War I. His perfume attempts to capture the scent of extreme freshness of the northern lakes under the midnight sun. At that time the most expensive perfume oil was jasmine, and Chanel wanted to create the most costly perfume in the word, and as a result No. 5 relies heavily on jasmine. There was not one but several formulas presented by Beaux, and No. 5 was the one chosen out of a series of ten perfumes presented. Concurrently, Chanel was presenting her couture collection on May 5 of that year, and the iconic No. 5 was born to a destiny of unrivaled success.
          Chanel No. 5 did not take off immediately. Being a woman of unprecedented marketing vision Chanel introduced it first to her friends on May 5, 1921 and it was given to preferred clients free at her salon. Making the scent more recognizable, the fitting rooms of her establishment were scented with No. 5, which as you know, is a tactic imitated by retailers today. Although not the first fragrance to use synthetic floral aldehydes as a top note, Chanel’s stated, "I want to give women an artificial perfume. Yes, I do mean artificial, like a dress, something that has been made so that it would make a woman's natural beauty more precise."
          Famous spokes models for the fragrance have included movie stars like Marilyn Monroe, whose mystic boosted its popularity. In 1953 when asked what she wore to bed, Monroe famously replied, "Why, Chanel No. 5, of course." Chanel herself declared, "A woman should wear fragrance wherever she expects to be kissed."
       French film sensation Catherine Deneuve also became the iconic image of the Chanel No. 5 woman, as were Nicole Kidman and actress Audrey Tautou, who also appeared in the short firm for the fragrance introduced on May 5, 2009 in honor of the creation of Chanel No. 5. introduced on May 5, 1921.
          Could any other perfume be so celebrated to have a book written about it? On Oct. 20, the Chanel No. 5 Biography, "HISTOIRE DU NO. 5 CHANNEL, UN NUMERO INTEMPOREL" (or "HISTORY OF CHANEL NO. 5, A TIMELESS NUMBER," in English) was released in France, Belgium and Switzerland. The book is billed as an "authorized biography" on the mythic scent introduced in 1921. Written by Francois Ternon in French by Editions Norman, the subjects covered in the 186-paged book include how the fragrance got its name and the manner in which its bottle was chosen. Ternon also retraces important moments in the lives of Gabrielle Bonheur "Coco" Chanel and Ernest Beaux, No. 5's two creators. The house of Chanel supplied 32 illustrated pages.
          The Paris movie theater may be showing "Coco Before Chanel," but Bergdorf Goodman next door is tipping its hat to Chanel with windows devoted to “Chanel and Beyond.” Bergdorf's has devoted three of its Fifth Avenue windows to the house, featuring props such as an oversize Chanel No. 5 bottle, and a large quilted jacket and handbag. A special "Secrets of the Chanel Jacket" installation on the second floor tells the story of the iconic jacket's creation and vintage haute couture, and contains two handbags that belonged to the namesake designer herself.
           Could a perfume by any other name be so famous? Now in its 88th year, Chanel No. 5 seems to be topping the charts as the world's most celebrated and long lasting perfume. ♥



Bio:   Polly Guerin was a fashion reporter when she was sent to cover the House of Chanel collection for the trade publication, bible of the fashion industry, Women's Wear Daily and had the great pleasure of meeting Madame herself. As a professor at the Fashion Institute of Technology, she became a recognized fashion historian. Polly is also a vice-president of Romance Writers of America/New York City chapter. Visit her at www.pollytalk.com.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Care and Feeding of Your Inner Artist

by Lise Horton Many of you are no doubt familiar with the concept of the Artist’s Date, as promoted by “The Artist’s Way” author, Julia Cameron. The idea that you need to recharge, refuel, re-energize your creative soul in order to write, productively and joyfully, is truer than ever in times like these. Between personal responsibility, worry over the economy, global warming, disease, and the everyday trials and tribulations of life, a writer – any artistic person – is even more challenged when trying to nurture that oh-so-fragile spark that lets our imaginations soar. I’m going to ask you to make the commitment that Cameron does. A once a week Artist’s Date with yourself. It need not be a time consuming date, nor an expensive one. What it does need to be is something that takes you outside of your everyday experience, your normal environs and into a magical, wonder-filled place. What is magical to you? What makes your mind say, in awe, “Ahhhhh!”? It can be something different for everyone. Something sophisticated, something childish. A carefree excursion, or a contemplative one. There are endless possibilities – something for every sense and sensibility. But in case you need some ideas to get you started, here are a few to whet that creative appetite: The New York Historical Society’s new exhibit on Lincoln The Pierpont Morgan Museum has current exhibits running on William Blake, Maurice Sendak and Puccini and upcoming exhibits on Jane Austen, Dickens’ A Christmas Carol and Romantic Gardens The Whitney Museum has just opened its Georgia O’Keefe exhibit The American Museum of Natural History’s exhibits include one on frogs, extreme mammals, butterflies and the always awesome host of the beautiful and the bizarre. Or if performance is more your artist’s cup of tea, consider one of the numerous locations in Manhattan to enjoy music (symphonic, jazz, cabaret, rock, R&B), dance (ballet, modern, ballroom), opera, or how about a night at the theatre. You can opt to see Eugene O’Neill’s “Emperor Jones”, Mamet’s “Oleanna”, the upcoming musical of “Ragtime”, the silly and satisfying “Bye, Bye, Birdie” or one of several Sondheim presentations to celebrate his 80th Birthday, including “A Little Night Music” with the Grande Dame of Broadway, Angela Lansbury and a later event with the inimitable Barbara Cook. Or trek on out to BAM and see the imported production of “A Streetcar Named Desire” with Cate Blanchett. Not a moviegoer? Never go solo? Give it a try. Pick a film that is something outside your normal fare. See what all the hullabaloo is about. “Shutter Island” is a guaranteed thriller. “Amelia” pairs Richard Gere and Hillary Swank in the story of the doomed aviator. Or “It’s Complicated” the romantic comedy for the 50-something crowd, starring Meryl & Alec B. The atmospheric “Sherlock Holmes” boasts Robert Downey, Jr., as a seedy Holmes and a dapper Dr. Watson - Jude Law (oh, and VAMPIRES!) Or a host of other holiday offerings. If you eschew the childish or sophomoric, how about you give one a try? You may find a vein tapped in your creative subconscious that opens up a whole new world! For a very different twist, consider pampering your artist’s inner child. When was the last time you bought a coloring book and a big box of Crayola crayons and whiled away an hour with burnt sienna and periwinkle? Coloring outside the lines absolutely encouraged, BTW! Or finger paints, construction paper, glue and glitter. Or a slightly more mature take – do a bookish decoupage cover for your very own daily journal (the inexpensive wire-notebooks are a perfect choice!). Play-doh is still around in a plethora of fun colors, as is clay. Put together a beautiful or complicated or puzzling puzzle while sipping a cup of an herbal tea you’ve never tried. Try painting or sketching or grab a camera and find some odd little spot to take some unusual pictures of some curious places or things that you can use later to prompt your imagination on intriguing flights of fancy. Art and imagination takes many forms. If take-out or a can of soup is your big meal, how about making a big pot of hearty soup filled with myriad flavors and spices? Cutting those veggies can be a very Zen opportunity to relaxing your mind and getting in touch with your body. Or undertake to bake a pie from scratch. Or a loaf of bread, or Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon – look what it did for Julie Powell! Sometimes the simplest retreat from your daily reality can be the most profound. Find a new park that you have not yet explored. Take a walk – this time of year can be especially beautiful with the foliage and falling leaves. Find a spot that “speaks” to you and sit – that’s all. Just sit (no cell phones, Blackberries or iPods allowed!). Breathe, let your mind run free and see what pops out. Or take a long walk in an unfamiliar (but safe!) neighborhood. Stop as your fancy dictates. At a used bookstore, or a funky jewelry store, or an odd restaurant or bar. Sit, alone, and have a cuppa, or a glass of something different and savor the moment – the tastes, sounds, sensations and the solitude. There are adventures to be had, discoveries to be made, and wonders to be enjoyed. They all await you. And it couldn’t be simpler to revitalize your inner artist. Just make a date …. with yourself. P.S. – Be sure to share your experiences with us!

Monday, October 19, 2009

10 Reasons to Enter the NaNoWriMo

by Maria C. Ferrer


November is National Novel Writing Month, or as it has affectionally come to be called, NaNoWriMo.  It's a writing challenge for the adventurous -- 50,000 words in 30 days. And the best part -- no editing allowed. You just write, write, write.  Don't worry about spelling or grammar or repetitive phrases. Turn off your internal editor. Anything and everything you write is Gold! (How often can we as writers say that?!)  So join the fun. NaNoWriMo registration begins October 1. The writing begins on November 1.  Sign up TODAY at www.nanowrimo.org. And don’t forget to also join the Chapter NaNo group. 



10 REASONS TO ENTER THE NANOWRIMO

1.  The challenge is only for one month -- 30 days.

2.  The only requirement is to write.

3.  It’s only 50,000 words.

4.  Everything and anything you write is GOLD.  And better yet, every word counts.

5.  You can use a pencil or a pen or a computer to write your novel.

6.  It’s a great time to try writing a different genre. 

7.  Deadlines are our friend.  (When in doubt, repeat.)

8.  There will be no dieting during the NaNoWriMo challenge. You need all your energies focused on writing.

9. There will be no editing and no proofreading. Violators will be put on a diet in December.

10. You can see your word count increase on the NaNoWriMo site with their count widget. You can also see your friends’ counts. The competition will keep you writing.

 Good luck!

Friday, October 16, 2009

Using a Music Video to Inspire Your Writing

By Mari Miller-Lamb



A word: I'm a reader and writer, and at times I feel that all of my intelligence is stuck on the printed page. So it is safe to say that I am not a visual person by nature. Sometimes movies confuse me, and I don't know my Manet from my left foot. But I find this video insanely compelling and inspiring. Something about it just makes me melt. So watch this video of "Who's Gonna Run This Town Tonight?" and see if you agree:

http://video.tiscali.it/canali/truveo/3467587343.html

I know, I know it's Rihanna, Jay Z and Kanye West, and like many artists their personal lives and maybe personalities are less than...well, let's just keep it at "less than" shall we? All I'm saying is, if you watch this video and don't feel inspired to write the story, then you don't have any right to call yourself a writer or an artist or whatever it is you call yourself. Talk about sexy dark fun, and Rihanna's voice is so hot and sultry you can just feel the heat coming off her as she asks her two Henchmen? Men-At-Arms? Security Advisors? Dark Knights? to help her out. Is she asking? Is she demanding? What does she really want from them? What do they want from her? Are they going to help her or harm her? What control does she have over them or they over her? And where the heck are they and is she a Queen or what? Is a happy ending possible in this dark setting? What was the history that led up to this point? Will sombody please write the story so I feel a sense of completion here?!? Have fun! ♥


BIO:   Mari Miller-Lamb is a romance writer who has completed two manuscripts and is anxiously awaiting the Call. She makes her home in Douglaston along with her husband and three year old daughter. Her day job as a librarian pays the bills and provided lots of great opportunities and inspiration for research.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Bits & Pieces: Patt Mihailoff

Patt Mihailoff is a natural storyteller, and not just for print. Anyone who is a member of RWA-NYC knows some of her anecdotes by heart. I remember my first meeting when I saw her and even before she spoke I was riveted by her energy. By the time she spoke it was clear and evident that she was a sparkling communicator with a lot of heart. Now with my second installment of Bits and Pieces, I am kind of spoiled. Patt and I were scheduled to do this on a rainy awful day after our last RWA meeting. She was late, but as soon as she came in she was full of energy and was "ready when I was". Right after the meeting we walked to a nearby Starbuck's and I could not type fast enough on my iPod Touch trying to capture all the stories she told! We talked about old movies, Catholic School and fetishes. It is my pleasure to share with you the things I captured! The thing that was so warming to me was that throughout the entire thing, Patt kept asking me what she should be talking about? She is always thinking about someone else, the warmth of her personality and the immensity of her heart is overwhelming. She has no pretense, she is who she is and unabashedly so. "I am a size 6 in size 22 body only because Halle Berry has my body and the heifer will not give it back. I was always scared to death of writing, but I always wrote. When I was younger I had an anger issue, well I was told that. I thought I was an actress, I thought I was Bette Davis. I am supposed to be talking about writing. You have to tell me what to talk about. I think that everyday is a learning experience. (I work) in the Somerset County sheriff's dept in the detective bureau, I do all my warrants in the morning and write in the afternoon and they know it and let me have it. The jail is attached to my office. I was working there for 8 months and I did not know. I asked 'Where is the jail?' They said, 'You have been working for 8 months and you do not know where the jail is?' 'Where are the bars?' There are no cells, there are Plexi-glass pods now. I feel like whenever you (the RWA group) has a success I feel like it is my success. These are the people in my groups, this is my family. That is how I feel about the group. I love to crochet afghans. A girl taught me how to do it when I was nineteen. I can't just sit and watch tv. I've got to have something to do. If I am not doing that I am doing needlepoint. I can't sit and do nothing. Saturday night is movie night at my house so that's when I do it. I donate them (the afghans, not the movies) to old people's home and I want to do it for people who go in for dialysis because it is cold there. They say that I am funny. I got in trouble for kissing the saints. All the male saints in the cathedral. But back in the day there were big, real, life-sized saints (in the church) and I practiced my kissing on them. The priest called my mom and said that I couldn't climb on the saints and kiss them anymore. I got in trouble for defacing the church with my lips. I told the priest that I was having impure thoughts. He had dark hair and blue eyes and a long (confession) line. One day he asked me what was the nature of the impure thoughts, he came out of the confessional box and said, 'Do I have to talk to your mother again?' I will not watch SG-SG1 if Richard Dean Anderson is not in it. That is when he had the hair thing going on. So now I watch Stargate Atlantis because of Jason Mamoa, Hmmm! I like men; okay, I love them. Don't ask me about the hair fetish. I am blessed and I am thankful. I do not think Icould be anybody but myself. If I ever got famous (no chance of that), I could not be anyone else. There are too many people who love me as I am. But I would love a chance to prove it, but like the lottery, the Fates just won't let me!"

Monday, October 12, 2009

Finish the Tale ...

by Santa Byrnes

There’s a strange little house I pass by every day that’s, well, caught my fancy. It’s a square red brick house set back from the road a bit. The bricks have lost their vibrant new brick color and have faded. Its façade is as non-sequential as its shape. Mirror image windows set on either side of a plain black door while above it a porch door opens onto nothingness.

Every day, like clockwork, a woman walks the perimeter of the yard to the left side of the house. The grey of her sweats matches the grey of the yard she walks in. She sets her pace along imaginary lines, her face hidden beneath the bill of a baseball cap pulled low over her eyes.

But then she disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Was it because the weather became warmer, negating the need for such heavy armor? No sooner had my writer’s mind set about continuing the story she’d started in my head, the building began. Truckloads of wood planks followed the delivery of tall metal posts set ten feet apart along the same perimeter she’d walked. Did the tread marks of her sneakers create a plum line for the builder?

The planks went up next, taller than any man, rivaling the height of the house next to it. Curtains in the windows on the left lifted, seeming to chance a sidelong glance at what was being done right in its own backyard.

So, my writer’s mind began to work out a story about that lady. Who was she? Why come out and walk the same pattern every day? And where did she disappear to? Why did a fence have to go up and why so high?

I thought it would be fun, as a group, to finish this lady’s story. Give me your take on the tale or piggyback on what the person before you has posted. Who’s game?


BIO:    My name is Santa Byrnes and I am a contemporary romance writer with one completed manuscript under my belt and one that I am working on at the present. When I am not wearing my writer’s tiara, you can find me at the wheel of my car chauffeuring my children heather and yon to their various activities. I write there. I don my deli diva tiara as co-owner and manager of my family’s gourmet food store. I also write there. As an ardent foodie, I get much of my inspiration for the current series I am working on. My heroines are chefs whose passions for the culinary arts rivals the passions they share with the heroes in their lives.

Friday, October 9, 2009

The Legend of the Minaudiere

by Polly Guerin, Fashion Historian




Everybody knows that accessories make an outfit, and it seems you can never have too many evening bags, especially a Minaudiere. The French word describes an elegant but small, highly jeweled hard metal case that one can nestle in their hand. These charming little handfuls are more an art form than anything else and placed on the dinner table or worn at a gala event these minaudieres look like portable art. "Bubbles," the late Beverly Sills, had hundreds of them and mostly as gifts or bought from Judith Leiber the famed handbag designer who produced animal, avant-garde and whimsical shapes all jeweled and emblazoned with eye popping colorful rhinestones. Among Bubbles' collection, recently auctioned at Doyle, were a Doctor's Bag Minaudiere, A Shell Minaudiere, an Elephant Deity Minaudiere, and a wide assortment of Faberge Egg Minaudieres. Minaudiere in its original sense was a charming way to describe a coquette, a person with affected manners.

          Contemporary minaudieres are just that coquettish but their incarnation is ascribed by Deborah Chase, (a new RWA/NYC member) in her book, TERMS OF ADORNMENT:  The Ultimate Guide to Accessories (HarperCollins), as having been created by Van Cleef and Arpels in 1930, when Charles Arpels noticed that one of his clients was using a metal Lucky Strike box as a purse. He adapted the look and named it after the wife of his partner, Estelle Van Cleef, who was "minaudiere" (charming). At first minaudieres were made of gold plated or silver metal and encrusted with genuine gems, but the look was too delicious to remain exclusive. Within a decade you could find the dainty purse on female arms throughout America. Deborah recommends that, "You look for vintage mother-of-pearl, petit point, or beaded minaudieres in flea markets and antique stores and to modernize the minaudiere change the short wrist strap for a long chain so that you can hang the small bag from your shoulder."

          Mad about a certain book cover? Your own, of course! Have it immortalized on a square-shaped minaudiere. That's the concept behind a magical new line of limited edition minaudieres by Paris-based, Olympia Le-Tan, evoking first-edition covers of 21 classics. The collection is handmade in France, using canvas, embroidered flet applique and silk thread, with a brass strictire. Each minaudiere book retails for $l,500 and the boutique Colette is the exclusive Paris distributor for the collection. (213 Rue Saint-Honore, 7500l; +33-1-55-35-33-90.)
          Now that's a great new way to promote your romantic book. Not only is a book minaudiere a good marketing tool, it will certainly draw attention to your novel and You. Perhaps you can find a handbag manufacturer who can personalize a book minaudiere for your best selling novel.
          Terry Mayer, jewelry designer, takes it one step further and creates book miniatures in silver or another alloy, and imprints the title of a book on the cover so you can wear the little jewelry book on a chain, front and center. Visit her at www.terrymayerbells@aol.com. ♥





BIO:   Polly Guerin's first job in journalism was as Accessories Editor at the fashion bible, the trade newspaper Women's Wear Daily where she honed her skills on writing about accessories and later as professor at the Fashion Institute of Technology she lectured on Product Knowledge explained how accessories were made and manufactured. Polly is also a vice-president of Romance Writers of America/New York Chapter. Visit her at www.pollytalk.com with links to her Internet PollyTalk column and blog www.amazingartdecodivas.blogspot.com.

Monday, October 5, 2009

A Room of One's Own

By Wendy Corsi Staub

I like to think of myself as a spontaneous person. Want to put the thawing chicken into the fridge and get takeout instead? Fine with me. Want to snag this bargain bookcase from a tag sale and figure out where to put it later? No prob. Want to jet off to Barbados? I’m soooo there.
          (Yeah. Like that ever happens.)
          Anyway…spontaneous. Yes, sir. That’s me.
          Rather, that was me--until my husband decided to remodel my home office.  Suddenly, I discovered that I am a creature of habit; that my spiritual, emotional, and financial well-being depends on rising each morning, grinding and brewing a big pot of coffee, and climbing the stairs to my office, where I spend hours creating novels and turning them into my various editors on, or before, deadline.
          Alas, those days are over—at least, for now. My office is no more. My thousands of books are boxed up in the crawl space; my files are buried in a closet somewhere beneath flip flops and down comforters; my computer is sitting, exposed and vulnerable, right out in the living room.
          My husband promised to make this renovation as quick and painless as possible. We both figured the job would involve ripping up the groovy pink carpet and removing the even groovier (pun not intended, but I’ll go with it) plywood paneling we had painted white when we moved in—a quick fix that aimed to transform the seventies rec room ambience into beadboard-esque cottage charm. (No, really.)
          So, a little spackle, a little paint, some new carpet, and I’d be back in business, right?
          So very, very, very wrong. Our little project snowballed, as these things often do, as anyone who owns an old suburban house will tell you.
          Long story reduced to one ugly word: mold.
          My office is now gutted to the studs, and our roof—yes, our entire roof—will be torn off and replaced starting this week. Then my office will have to be re-framed, re-sheetrocked, re-wired, re-everything.
          How we will pay for this unexpected expense, I do not know—particularly now that my on-acceptance payout for the new novel appears to be indefinitely delayed. However, my husband assures me we’ll manage.
          (Had I realized we had thousands of extra dollars at our disposal, I’d have opted to spend it on a fabulous Mediterranean cruise vacation and taken my chances on a leaky roof, water damage and mold. My husband, however, appears to have developed an unhealthy fear of leaky roofs, water damage and mold, and so we are spending our thousands of extra dollars on flannel-clad, ladder-climbing workmen, and shingles. At least I got to order a charming red-speckled gray that matches the shutters. The shingles, not the guys—though they may very well also turn out to be charming, red-speckled, and gray.)
          Anyhoo, I’ve been forced to relocate my computer to the living room, where I am attempting to write my new thriller, SCARED TO DEATH, a sequel to the upcoming LIVE TO TELL (Avon Books, March 2010). As a newly diagnosed creature of habit, I initially attempted to stick to my usual twelve-to-fourteen-hour marathon writing sessions. But I must say, there’s something unnerving about hearing an eleven-year-old munching Cheezits and watching Sponge Bob few feet over your shoulder when your heroine is running for her life.
          Ever since I acknowledged that I am not one of those fortunate, SPONTANEOUS writers who can write anywhere, any time, I’ve had to adjust my schedule so that I work on the book only when I have the living room to myself. Which pretty much relegates my writing schedule to the wee hours, school day hours, and non Yankees-or-Giants-game-viewing hours. As a result, on occasions when I would ordinarily have run up to my desk to pound out a new scene, I have unexpectedly found myself with free time.
          At first, I was at loose ends. I mean, I’m notoriously type A. I am not the kind of person who can turn on the television or pick up a book or magazine in the middle of the day, much less sit idle…unless I’m utterly exhausted. Most of the time, thank goodness, I am not.
          I was worried that I might be frustrated about deadlines and all the writing I could have been doing in my—sob—office. However, I’ve discovered that there’s something cathartic about the homey housewife life. I’ve been keeping busy cleaning out cupboards and closets, cooking and baking, planting bulbs, pruning hedges. In fact, the last few weeks have been kind of a throwback to my contented newlywed weekends, when my husband and I were living in New England with no friends and nothing but time on our hands.
If I had an office I never would found myself at Borders on a rainy Saturday afternoon this past weekend, browsing other people’s books when I ordinarily would have been writing my own. Other people’s books, like a new memoir called THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT.
          I had read in Entertainment Weekly and in our local paper about the four Welch siblings—Amanda, Liz, Dan and Diana-- who recently co-authored a book about their extraordinary past—four different accounts of the same past. Privileged children who had lost their father to a car accident in the early eighties and then, a few years later, their mother to cancer, they were split up and farmed out to various people who raised them—or attempted to.
           Having nursed my own too-young and dying mother through her final days with breast cancer, I instantly related to their tragedy on one level—and was awestruck by their perseverance on another. They had not only individually triumphed against tremendous odds, but they had rediscovered each other and rebuilt their family.
           As luck would have it, the Welches were reading and signing at our local Borders yesterday afternoon. I was riveted, and had the chance to chat with several of them afterward. I came away inspired and toting an autographed copy of their book, which is receiving positive buzz. Check it out here: www.thekidsareallrightbook.com.
           Meanwhile, I’ve got a new book of my own out this month: LILY DALE: DISCOVERING, the fourth installment in my hardcover young adult paranormal series. The first three titles, AWAKENING, BELIEVING, and CONNECTING, are all out in paperback at this point. For more info—or to enter my monthly contest—check out my websites at www.wendycorsistaubcommunity.com or www.wendycorsistaub.com. ♥



BIO: Wendy Corsi Staub is the New York Times bestselling author of more than seventy novels under her own name and the pseudonym Wendy Markham. She lives in Westchester County with her husband and children.


Friday, October 2, 2009

What Is It About Books?

By Thea Devine


I've been thinking about books.
            No surprise there. Who doesn't? But this time it's because I've been cleaning out my office and I have a pile of books five deep and thigh high sitting on my hearth, and those were just the ones stacked on my floor. I'm nowhere near ready to empty the four bookshelves in the room. And that doesn't count the side table full of books in the room that I intend to read -- sometime. Or the back bedroom -- the alleged guest room -- that is crammed floor to ceiling with -- you guessed it -- books.
           Who needs a bed? We never have guests anyway.
           So, what it is about books?
           I know I absolutely need all those research books, and the essential to-be-read pile, and there are the books I know I'll get to -- soon; nor can I give up my beloved keepers because I'm going to read them again -- when I have time; and there are my childhood favorites I love to reread (Nancy Drew anyone?); and the books my English major husband read in college and can't bear to give up. And, all the freebies at conferences that cost more to send home than they would to buy them. I don't care. I have to have them. A friend of mine said we're like lemmings at a conference -- diving off a cliff for a box of books.
          What is it about books?
           And you know what happened this summer: we found a used bookstore in that seacoast town in Maine -- you didn't think I walked out with nothing, did you? (It was Faith Baldwin, perfectly understandable).
           And at the flea market at the fairgrounds -- what did I buy?
           Books. Who could resist a book entitled THE RAJAH’S FORTRESS?
           I'm even the Recording Secretary for my town's Friends of the Library, because we get first dibs at the book sales.
           It's not that I don't get rid of books, either. I've sold books, donated books (three boxes full just the other day), given books to friends, left books outside and invited people to take them -- yet somehow the piles in the house never grow smaller.
           I'm the one who used to tote a suitcase full of books on vacation, in case I ran out of things to read and the supermarket/bookstore/pharmacy was closed and I couldn't buy one because I'd finished all the others.
            So you'd think e-readers would be my salvation and my heaven. Two hundred books in the palm of my hand! No more suitcase. No more I'll-die-if-I-don't-have-something-to-read frenzy.
           But also two hundred books I can't pick up, page through, smell, touch, love -- maybe it's generational -- but I'm not there yet.
           So in order to cut down the paper chaos and declutter my life, I decided that if I can check the book I need out of the library, I don't have to have it in the house.
           Sane, right? Sensible. It’s why libraries were invented. (... except -- what if I need that piece of research at ten at night -- or two in the morning? ... what if I MUST read that book NOW ...?)
          Darn -- obviously THAT resolution doesn't work.



BIO:   Thea Devine is the author whose books defined erotic historical romance. Romantic Times calls her "The Queen of Erotic Romance,” Affaire de Coeur calls her: "... the divine mistress of sensual writing." Thea is the author of 18 steamy historical romances, as well as contributing novellas to Kensington Books' USA Today best-selling erotic historical romance anthologies, CAPTIVATED, FASCINATED, and TAKEN BY SURPRISE. She has also written a handful of sexy contemporary romantic novellas for Kensington and Leisure Books, and made her debut in full-length contemporary romance in 1999, with NIGHT MOVES, for Harlequin Temptation "Blaze".  Kensington has just reissued the anthology FASCINATED for its 10th Anniversary. It contains Thea’s novella, “The Pleasure Game.” Look for it on the shelves at your nearest bookstore. And, visit Thea at www.theadevine.com.

THE PROMISE OF KIERNA' RHOAN

by Isabo Kelly


The idea for THE PROMISE OF KIERNA’RHOAN came to me in a dream. It’s the only story—to date—I’ve written from a dream. The dream turned into the opening scene of the book. Of course there was editing, but I’ve put the version that made it into the book below. It’s pretty damned close to the original dream. The only difference was… Well, I’ll tell you after you read the book, if you want to know. :)
          THE PROMISE OF KIERNA’RHOAN was also my first published anything (outside of articles in school newsletters of course). And I wrote it in the month I had free between bouts of fieldwork in the first year of my Ph.D. I can still remember that period. It took me 5 weeks to write the full first draft. Then three different edits scattered over the next 8 months before I finally submitted the book to a new but exciting little e-publisher called Dreams Unlimited. DU was one of the first electronic publishers and they had a reputation for excellent cross-genre books. They even published a Sherrilyn Kenyon paranormal that she couldn’t get published anywhere else (at that time). This was more than 10 years ago before the New York houses realized what a huge subgenre paranormal/fantasy/science fiction romance would be. I’ll be forever grateful to the ladies at DU for giving me my first shot.
          And now for the first time in more than 10 years, after multiple electronic editions and being in and out of print, THE PROMISE OF KIERNA’RHOAN is finally available in paperback from Samhain Publishing! So without further ado, here’s a little excerpt. Enjoy!


************

THE PROMISE OF KIERNA’RHOAN
Copyright © 2009 by Isabo Kelly
Print ISBN: 978-1-60504-420-0
Digital ISBN: 978-1-60504-243-5


She faced forward, watching through the front windshield of the van as a half-dozen fully armed soldiers led her four friends a short distance away. She tried to relax against the seat, tried to ignore the inconvenient tear in the imitation leather that poked her in the back. This could take hours if Ennoren saw fit to detain them.
           The sound of the passenger door opening startled her. She turned to see the Guard settle himself onto the floorboard, shifting so that he wasn’t visible above the dash. Kira cocked her head to one side, raising her eyebrows, and the man flashed the most charming smile she’d ever seen. The grin was just a touch guilty and would have made him seem like a mischievous boy if it hadn’t stretched the scar and deepened the wrinkles around his eyes.
          He plucked a pack of cigarettes from a pocket inside his uniform jacket and showed them to her.
          “Not allowed to smoke on duty.” He tapped one cigarette free, stuck it in his mouth, then returned the rest to his pocket and pulled out a small lighter. Before he lit up, he extended a hand. “David.”
          “Kira.” She shook his hand, quick and firm, and pulled back before she had time to notice how nice his grip felt.
          He lit the cigarette, took a long drag, then offered the end to her. She stared at the thing for a moment before helping herself to a puff. Through the cloud of tobacco-scented smoke she exhaled, she studied him. “You been with the Guard long?” she asked, handing the cigarette back.
          “Twelve years now.” He took another drag, never taking his gaze from her face.
           “You’re one of Ennoren’s.” She wasn’t asking. She knew the signet on his uniform too well.
           He nodded, his dark eyes still locked to hers. “For about three years.”
           She half-smiled, chuckled and shook her head. “Too bad, really.” She turned to see how her friends were doing.
           All four seemed to be holding up under the scrutiny of the men questioning them. Vettine’s shoulders were straight, her posture unwavering. Grainne’s stance was relaxed and cocky as she tossed her waist-length red hair over one shoulder. Breeanne had her arms crossed over her chest, her legs braced slightly apart. Her pale skin was flushed, but her expression controlled. And Jo, with her stylishly braided black hair brushing her shoulders in the breeze, had her hands on her hips, a slight smile on her full mouth and a sexy glint in her violet eyes. Kira couldn’t help smiling. Her second would flirt with the Devil himself if she were standing at the gates of Hell.
           “Why too bad?”
           The husky voice brought her attention back to the man sitting on the floorboard of her van. He offered her the cigarette again, and she took a long drag before answering. “I would have liked to get to know you. Under better circumstances. I think I could have liked you,” she answered without guile, a slight, sad smile tugging at her mouth.
           “‘Could have’?”
           She shrugged. “You’re one of Ennoren’s men.” She faced forward again because there was really no need for further explanation.
           “You’re jumping to conclusions. Judging me based on the commander I work under. You don’t know me.”
           Kira snorted and met his gaze. “It doesn’t matter whether I know you or not. You work for Ennoren.”
           A movement to her left caught her attention, and she turned away from David’s narrowed eyes. She reached down for the cigarette without taking her eyes off the man walking toward the van. When she’d taken another drag, she said, “Your boss is on his way over. Better let me finish this.”
          David slid out of the van, unhooked a thin, foot-long cylindrical device from his belt and began running it over the interior of the van without another word. Her gaze flicked to the device, then back to the approaching commander. The steady beep of the detector echoed in Kira’s pulse as she watched Ennoren step up to her open window.
          He was tall and thin, with a face Kira had once found interesting, if not attractive. All lines and angles, sharp nose, hard mouth, heavy-lidded blue eyes; his face was imposing, commanding and often intimidating. But Kira had long since stopped being intimidated by Ennoren.
          He looked at the cigarette in her hand, then into her eyes. “I thought you didn’t smoke.”
          She set the cigarette against her lips, inhaled deeply and blew smoke in his face. “I don’t.”
          He waved the smoke away, a sneer forming in place of a smile. For a long moment he studied her, his gaze running over her faded, ripped jeans and cotton flannel shirt. Then he turned to study her van, pointedly staring at the cracked dash, battered steering wheel and worn imitation leather upholstery. “New van?”
          Kira nodded.
          “I didn’t think you’d be into this late twentieth-century Earth fad.” He frowned. “But then, you always were a fashionable socialite, weren’t you? And since you have the money to afford this mock-up of an Earth car…” He let the sentence trail off as he held her gaze. “You’re looking good, Kira.”
           She returned his stare, taking another pull on the cigarette so she didn’t have to answer.
           When she remained silent, Ennoren shifted his attention to David. “Find anything, Officer Cario?”
           David snapped to attention. “No, sir. Appears clean.”
           “Well,” Ennoren said, turning a contemptuous glare on Kira, “appearances can lie.”
           “Was that a dig, Eain?” Kira kept her tone mild, even as she used his first name in front of another Guard—something she did only to annoy him. His mother had been a poet and fond of alliteration. Ennoren went out of his way to keep his full name, Eain Edward Evander Ennoren, from his subordinates.
           He covered his indignation well, but the slight narrowing of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils gave him away. “Take from it what you will.” He paused, studying her again.
          When he spoke, his voice was low. “The ring will collapse out from under you, Kira. It won’t be long now. Do you know what will happen to you when you’re found guilty of treason and conspiracy to commit treason against the planetary government?”
           “They’ll throw me into a hole?”
           “They’ll throw you into space without a suit,” he hissed. Dropping his voice again, he leaned into the car, putting his face only inches from hers. “End this now, Kira. End it. Tell me where they hide. I’ll make sure you get off with a light sentence.” A slight smile curled his lips. “I might even arrange to serve as your paroler. Just like old times, eh?”
           Kira turned her head to take one final puff off the cigarette, giving herself time to gain control over both her revulsion and her anger, before confronting his leer. “There’s a reason those times are old, Eain. I wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of divorcing you if I’d wanted to end up right back under your thumb. Besides—” she half-smiled, half-snarled at him, “—how would I know where they hide?”
           She watched with satisfaction as his leer transformed into a lip-trembling scowl. Flicking the cigarette past his shoulder, she turned back to David. He was standing at attention, a silent, emotionless witness to the scene. “Forgive my ex. He seems to think I’m some sort of underground anti-government terrorist leader.”
           David raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”
           She smiled. Then she laughed.
           The side door to the van opened and her friends climbed up to the padded bench along the side of the van. Kira kept her gaze on David, enjoying the twinkle of amusement in his eyes that didn’t filter into any other part of his expression. When the side door slammed into place, she leaned across the passenger seat and pulled that door shut.
           "It really is too bad we didn’t meet under different circumstances, officer,” she said when David leaned into the open window.
           His crooked grin made his scar jump. His knowing stare set her pulse dancing. She chuckled and moved back behind the wheel. Without another glance at her ex-husband, she put the van into gear and returned to the line of traffic hurrying away from the blockade.####



BIO:     Isabo Kelly is the pseudonym of RWA/NYC’s Treasurer Katrina Tipton. “Isabo” has been writing romance for over ten years -- fantasy, paranormal, science fiction, and erotica. Her erotic science fiction romance, SIREN SINGING, is a winner of the Prism Award for best erotic romance. Look for the re-release of her very first science fiction, THE PROMISE OF KIERNA’ RHOAN, on October 1st. Isabo writes for Ellora’s Cave, Cerridwen Press, Crescent Moon Press and Samhain Publishing. Visit her at www.isabokelly.com.