Welcome To Authordom!

2012 marks a huge milestone for me.  It's been twenty years since I set out for that magical place known as Authordom.  I began the journey armed with only a kernel of an idea, a computer and encouragement from my sister.  For seven years I battled rejection dragons, greatly fearing failure monsters, while guided by my fairy godmother, Perseverance and her mouthy sidekick, R.U. Insane.  Several times I wanted to leave the foreboding publication forest and almost did, when I encountered that often elusive Lady Luck, who gave me the keys to the kingdom with my first sale. 

Thankful I'd finally arrived, I stormed the gates and rushed into the castle, only to discover that I'd been somewhat mistaken in my expectations.  Where are the bon-bons and the chambermaids?  What do you mean there's no throne aside from the one in the bathroom?  As it turns out, I don't keep company with ladies in waiting or dashing men in tights—aside from those in my stories.  Without the tights, of course, since I write contemporary romance.  I don't wake up every morning to breakfast in bed and don a red satin ball gown to begin my day.  I eat cereal and put on ratty sweats and a T-shirt, keeping my bra nearby in case I'm summoned by a mysterious messenger dressed in brown.  The banquet table isn't stocked with pheasant, fine wine and decadent desserts.  In fact, I have no banquet table, but I do have a microwave and TV dinners at my disposal.  And chocolate.  Lots and lots of chocolate.

I've become well acquainted with the deadline dungeon, a dark place where I chain myself to the computer, talk to imaginary cabana boys and learn to exist on five hours sleep, not knowing whether it's night or day or if I'll ever be able to lay off the caffeine again.  And just like that old "Writing a book is like giving birth" adage, I conceive a plot, nurture it until it's ready to be born and finally release it as a full-formed book.  I then take my place on the cyber balcony, the proud parent filled with anticipation, preparing to greet my loyal subjects/readers… only to have someone in the courtyard yell "Your baby's ugly!" It doesn't matter if a few people in the crowd applaud my offspring, I only hear those words repeated over and over.  Ugly baby. Ugly baby.  Ugly baby.  And still, I return back inside the castle and do it all over again, avoiding the moat so I won't get eaten up by self-doubt sea serpents.

While residing at the kingdom—or the queendom—I've become an expert juggler, so much so I could be the court jester if the writing thing doesn't pan out.  I've learned to juggle family needs, socializing with friends and the ever-changing publishing realm.  I've also learned that no matter how strong or how high the fortress walls, sometimes the challenges of life intrude into the inner sanctum, and terrible, awful loss sends you back out the gates and into the real world for a while.  Yet somehow you eventually return to the castle and your writing with a shattered heart and the realization you have to move forward, one word at a time.  Back to the dungeon to attempt to escape into your imagination, only it isn't quite as easy as it once was.  Then again, you're not exactly the same person, either.  A little wiser, maybe, but definitely grateful for the little things.  Even TV dinners and dungeons.

When things get tough, I try to remember everything I've learned to this point, and I often recall someone saying you should write what you know.  And what I know is how it feels to be truly and completely loved by a real knight in shining armor.  This knowledge carries me forward and encourages me to honor and celebrate that kind of love in every book I write.  If I can continue to keep my place in the castle—and I'm certainly going to try—I can only hope that I'll be residing in Authordom for another twenty years.  Looks like I better stock up on chocolate.  Lots and lots of chocolate.