The Value of Networking by Diane Burton

Writers attend writing conferences for various reasons. Education, industry news, promotion (learning and doing), and networking. Catching up with old friends and making new ones is the most pleasurable experience at a conference. Meeting editors and/or agents can be a highlight, too.

Not everyone can afford the major conferences, like RT (Romantic Times) or RWA (Romance Writers of America). Some choose not to spend the money. Flying (or driving) to the location, paying for meals, and the conference fee itself can strain anyone’s budget.

Smaller conferences might be a better option. Local chapters (of RWA or other writing groups) often put on weekend workshops. Margo Hoornstra and I have talked about our RWA chapter’s Retreat From Harsh Reality. Our founders (Margo was one) decided not to invite editors or agents. We invite one author to present two formal workshops plus more informal Q&As. At first (back in the mid-1980s) our own published authors gave the workshops. We’ve expanded since then. For instance, recent presenters were Jennifer Probst, Christie Craig, and Rita Clay Estrada. The best part of our retreat is the laid-back, relaxed atmosphere. Blue jeans and T-shirts instead of more formal attire. Again, the most pleasurable thing (for me) is getting together with like-minded people. Those who understand what writing is all about.

So what does a writer do who can’t afford a conference (or a retreat)? Or those conferences are too far away, and flying is too expensive? How do they learn writing basics or industry trends or get together with like-minded individuals? How do they network?

Online.

When I started in this business over twenty years ago, the internet wasn’t available. We did have email but not the proliferation of networking opportunities. With YahooGroups, Facebook, Instagram, and other means of social media, writers can get together with other writers and it costs little or nothing. We join groups like Authors Helping Authors, Marketing For Romance Writers, and groups that target writers and readers of specific genres. Sisters in Crime, Savvy Authors, and RWA offer online courses in all aspects of writing—from basics to advanced writing, how to use Scrivener, the business of writing, etc. And the cost is minimal.

I love getting together face-to-face, but when I can’t do that, online is great. I’ve met so many new (to me) writers, made friends, and learned so much from them. This group is a fine example. When I first joined, I only knew a couple of you. Now, I’ve made some great friends and discovered authors whose books are now my one-clicks on Amazon.

We aren’t isolated any longer.

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from her stories every weekend on her blog.  Her latest release is NUMBERS NEVER LIE, a romantic suspense, available at Amazon, free for Kindle Unlimited.

Amnesia and a New Release by Diane Burton

How did it get to be the 16th of July already? I thought I had days before my post was due. Must be a case of NewRelease Amnesia. I spent last week running from one blog to another promoting my newest book, NUMBERS NEVER LIE, a romantic suspense. The week before, I had to write all those blogs. So, July disappeared in a blink.

A topic lately here has been promotion--what works and what doesn't and how do we know? I like to blog. Short, focused posts with a purpose. I like telling people about my stories. I like finding the perfect (for the topic) excerpt. When I've read other blogs promoting a new book, I skim the excerpt because I've read it before. I try not to use only one excerpt. But, there are only so many excerpts you can add without giving away the book.

Does blogging help? I like to think so. But how can I tell? As an indie writer, I can see the results daily on Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP). How accurate are the numbers? Good question. I have to trust KDP to record them. I've checked a few time since last Monday (release day) and I'm pleased so far. If the comments on the blogs are any indication, the book should be flying off the virtual shelves. LOL People are being polite, kind even.

This weekend while I took a breather from the blog tour, I didn't look at my calendar. I knew I didn't have any posts scheduled for today. Wrong! So here I am late, with apologies. I must have been hit with amnesia.

NUMBERS NEVER LIE

Blurb:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie.

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Upon returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother Jack’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that--an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then her home is searched. What did Jack do that puts Maggie in danger?

Excerpt

“What do you mean no toilets?” Drew Campbell stopped on the dusty forest path, hooked his sunglasses on the placket of his golf shirt, and stared at his daughter.

“Dad-dy.” Ellen groaned. Was she only fourteen? She did exasperation better than his administrative assistant. “I told you we were camping.”

Not for a moment would Drew reveal that camping was not what he remembered her saying a week ago. She said she wanted him to come along on an outing with her little group of friends. He figured a hike, picnic lunch, and then home in time for supper.

After taking a call on his cell in the parking lot near the trailhead, he’d gotten his first surprise. That’s when he found out about the “no electronics rule.” No cell phones, no iPods. All were locked in the vehicles. Only the leader carried a cell phone, for emergencies only.

His second surprise came when he opened the hatch of the Navigator. Five backpacks. Five backpacks with bedrolls. He’d transported four girls. It didn’t take a law degree to figure out who the fifth backpack was for. He was in deep shit. But what could he say in front of Ellen and her friends?

“Of course, sweetie. I knew we were camping.” A lie to save face wasn’t wrong. Right?

“Yeah, sure, Dad.”

She didn’t believe him? What happened to the adulation that used to be in her eyes? The “Dad is perfect” look.

He tried again. “Camping, like KOA. You know, kiddo, shower buildings, restrooms, flush toilets. Right now, I’d settle for a port-a-potty.”

Ellen groaned again. “Da-ad.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if she had a stomach ache.

As he’d done several times in the past three hours, he took out his handkerchief, looked at it in disgust, and tried to find a clean spot. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was hot and sticky, more like August in Michigan than June. Drew intensely disliked sweating. Clean sweat—in a gym—was all right. Not this . . . dirt. More than sweaty, he hated being dirty.

Considering the rain in early spring, he was surprised at how dry the path was. And how much dust twenty feet could kick up on a forest path. That, however, was not his first concern. He needed a john. Bad.

“C’mon, Ellen. Isn’t there a restroom nearby?” he asked quietly. “Even an outhouse?”

“Dad, this is Prim.” Ellen had mastered the art of eye rolling. As he’d learned in the past few months, that innate skill emerged in girls during adolescence.

“Prim? What is that?” Drew gave her the self-mocking grin that always made her laugh. “A new all-girl rock group?

Ellen wasn’t smiling. She lowered her voice. “It means Primitive Camping. We go in the bushes.”

“What!” He looked around, realizing that the other girls were staring at him. He hadn’t meant to sound so loud.

“You are embarrassing me.” She stomped away, kicking up more dust. Before she got to her friends clustered nearby, she shot over her shoulder, “I wish you’d never come. I knew it was a dumb idea to ask you.”

“Hey, come back here, honey. I’m sure this is a little misunderstanding. C’mon, Ellen.” In the year since his wife died, he and Ellen had had a lot of misunderstandings.

“I think she’s mad at you.”

Drew turned toward the quiet voice behind him. There she was, leaning back against a tree, her knee bent and booted foot propped against the trunk. Maggie Sinclair, Director of Camp Hell. He knew Jack’s sister was an outdoor nut, but he didn’t think she was this bad. Pissing in the bushes, for God’s sake.

Maggie was a tall woman, only a few inches shorter than his own six feet. She had the tan of a person who spent time outdoors, not a sunbather, though, with laugh crinkles around her eyes. Still, the rough-neck tomboy he’d grown up with. Who else would want to spend a summer day backpacking on dusty trails through snagging underbrush instead of out on a perfectly manicured golf course where you only ventured into the rough to retrieve an errant ball?

Despite the heat and humidity, Maggie’s white T-shirt, with its pink ‘Race for the Cure’ logo, was still white and her jeans, though faded, remained clean. With her dark brown ponytail pulled through the back of a Detroit Tigers baseball cap, she looked as cool as when they started on this trek three hours ago. That almost irritated him more than her awareness of friction between him and his daughter.

“Ellen? Mad at me?” He affected mock surprise. “Your powers of observation are amazing. Are you ever wrong?”

She cupped her elbow in her hand and tapped a finger against her jaw. “Let me see now. I was wrong once—fourteen years ago. That’s when I married Roger Dodger.”

Roger Dodger. An appropriate name for the jerk. The guy got out of paying anything even though she'd supported him while putting him through his MBA, because of Maggie’s inept divorce lawyer. It still pissed him off that she hadn’t come to him. Never mind he specialized in criminal law. He would’ve made an exception for her.

“Let me think. Have I been wrong since?” She continued the damn tapping then snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. I was wrong to let Ellen’s city-soft lawyer daddy help chaperone this trip.”

Drew gave her the smile that prosecutors knew better than to believe. “And here I thought it was because nobody else would.”

Available at Amazon  

Free with Kindle Unlimited

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from her stories every weekend on her blog. 

A Job Completed by Diane Burton

I know it's too early for celebrating Independence Day. I have another reason to celebrate.

Career-wise, is there a better feeling than completing a job? The satisfaction of finishing a project obscures the difficulties of getting there or the mistakes and problems along the way. I’m a list-maker because I love checking off tasks. Small satisfactions.

I’m thrilled to say that after five months, a lot of moaning, griping, and procrastinating, I finished Numbers Never Lie, a romantic suspense. Sharing snippets each weekend with the Weekend Writing Warriors has kept the story at the forefront of my mind. Never mind that my Muse nagged me endlessly to “finish the darn book.”

So, a week ago yesterday, I shipped that puppy to my editor, our own incomparable Alicia Dean. Instead of twiddling my thumbs waiting for the manuscript’s return (with lots of red markings, I’m sure LOL) I’m taking time to finish those household jobs that I’ve left slide—like folding laundry, cleaning my office, and entering my business receipts in Quicken. The most difficult aspect of that is attributing royalties to the individual books. I’m OCD like that.

With the completion of one task, another rears its head. What’s next? 

So many ideas, so little time. I want to finish two more novels this year, a science fiction romance (the fourth in my Outer Rim series) and a cozy mystery (the fourth in my Alex O’Hara series). Since I haven’t released a sci-fi romance in two years, that one will be next.

While waiting for the return of the edits, my plan is to enjoy a job completed, catch up on household chores, enjoy the lack of deadline pressure, then get started on the next book. When Numbers Never Lie is released, I'll celebrate big time. Not sure yet how. I can't drink alcohol, and chocolate is worth too many points on Weight Watchers. I'll figure out something.

Meanwhile, here’s the blurb for Number Never Lie:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie.

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Upon returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother Jack’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that--an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then someone else dies and Maggie’s home is searched. What did Jack do?

A note since tomorrow is Father's Day: A special salute to all the Dads, especially those who prove what a good father is, like the three men in my life--Hubs, Son, and Son-in-law. Great job, guys. 

Muses & Writing by Diane Burton

Apollo and the Muses on Mt. Helicon by Claude Lorrain

Back in March, I wrote a post on Paranormal Romantics about The Muses. Here’s a little backstory about them. In Greek mythology, Zeus created The Muses to celebrate the victory over the Titans and to forget the evils of the world. Zeus was a prolific father. According to myth, he laid with the goddess of memory nine times to create the nine Muses, goddesses of literature, sciences, and the arts. Two of them are directly related to literature—Melpomene (tragedy) and Thalia (comedy). Although I claim Thalia as my muse because I’d rather write humor than tragedy, But, I can’t ignore Melpomene. A good book must contain both. Tension and danger need the comic relief.

In the past, I’ve groaned and complained about my Muse having gone on vacation or that she deserted me. Then, I read this quote from J.K. Rowling:

"The Muse works for you. You don’t write at her beck and call—you train her to show up when you’re writing.”

I find that an interesting perspective. It’s easier to blame the Muse than myself when I'm stuck. Yesterday, Mac Crowne wrote about Writer’s Block. I identified with her feelings back in February when I had a lot of trouble with Numbers Never Lie. At that time, I blamed my Muse for deserting me. Now, I have to wonder.

Have I trained my Muse to show up? I think it’s much like training a puppy. I wasn’t very good at that. Inconsistent at first. Then, I learned to be more vigilant . . . and consistent. I guess that means I need to be consistent with expecting my Muse to show up each time I sit down to write.

However we write, whatever we think of Muses, our job is to get the story out of our heads and onto the screen (or paper). Some of us need inspiration. Reading favorite books, as Mac is going to do (and as I do), reminds us of excellence in writing. 

If I want my Muse to show up when I do, I guess I’d better train her better.

Here’s the blurb for Numbers Never Lie:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie. 

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that—an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then her home is searched. What did Jack leave behind?

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from her stories every weekend on her blog.

Life Happens by Diane Burton

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. ~ John Lennon

I should stencil John Lennon’s quote on the inside of my eyelids. This has not been my best year, writing-wise. Oh, 2018 started great with lots of energy, ideas galore, a plan to release three novels this year. For two weeks, I was going great guns on the fourth Alex O’Hara mystery. Then, for some weird reason (which I won’t go into), I quit that book to finish one that I thought was 75% done. It wasn’t, but I’d committed to it.

Enter the doldrums of 2018. Winter blues, depression. Whatever. I was stalled during the month of February. I wrote but not as much as I could have. With March, spring was in the air. Sort of. For a day or two we had sunshine. Hurray! My energy returned. The finish line was in sight, just 10k words to write. I had the outline done, just needed to go from “telling” to “showing.” And I was looking forward to celebrating Easter with my family.

That’s when Life slapped me up the side of the head and said, “Unh uh.” I woke up one morning with a vicious sore throat and a cough. I guess Life thought I needed to remember all those people who got influenza, even those who’d gotten the shot, those who ended up in the hospital. When family members (Hubs included) had gotten hit with bad colds, I escaped. I couldn’t believe it. How lucky could I get!

My luck ran out. No Easter with the family, not with coughing my head off. Finally, I was bullied (Hubs and daughter) into going to the doctor. Guess what? Doctors take Spring Break, too. Off to Urgent Care, where I was diagnosed with pneumonia. Say what? That explained the lack of energy, difficulty breathing with the least exertion, wanting to sleep all the time.

Along with no physical energy, my creative energy disappeared. Even reading was too hard. So was Facebook and email. Binge-watching Netflix was all I could manage. Life must have thought I needed downtime while one course of antibiotics worked. Recheck at the doctor’s showed an ear and sinus infection. Another course of antibiotics. More downtime. After all that, I am feeling better. I even got to see the grandkids last week. Talk about withdrawal. I hadn't seen them in over two weeks.

The plan to finish my romantic suspense (Number Never Lie) by Easter didn’t happen. That pushed back the release by Mother’s Day even farther. I'm almost afraid to mention a release date. I’m disappointed, but what can I do? Buckle down again. Keep on truckin’.

We make plans, and Life laughs.

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month. She shares snippets from Numbers Never Lie every weekend on her blog.

The Man At The Top Of The Mountain by Diane Burton

The man at the top of the mountain didn’t fall there. ~ Vince Lombardi, Jr.

So how did the man get to the top? Hard work. He put one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. That’s the same way to write a book, one word after another.

In past posts, we’ve talked about our different styles of writing. Some writers outline, other write by the seat of their pants. I’m a linear thinker. Usually, I begin at the beginning and write through to the end. Except once.

My current WIP was the exception. I knew writers who wrote scenes out of order. I tried that. What a mess. (For me.) I’m sure it works for others. Writing scenes as they hit me led to chaos, especially as I tried to make sense of those scenes fifteen years later. As I said, a mess.

The fun thing about this experience is that I’m coming down the homestretch. As of yesterday, I have less than 10,000 words to finish. I remember writing the end scene. Could I find it? Heck, no. Eventually, I discovered an “outline” where I’d written the last scene as if telling the end. I knew I’d written it. Now I need to rewrite it, showing not telling.

Anne Lamott, author of Bird by Bird, shares the advice her father gave her brother when overwhelmed by a homework assignment about birds. He said to take it bird by bird.

It’s exciting to realize I’m so close to the end. I’m not celebrating yet. That’s usually when the bottom drops out. So I’m putting one foot in front of the other. I’m going to reach the top—not by falling, but by working hard, by taking it bird by bird.

Blurb, NUMBERS NEVER LIE:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie.

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that--an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

When vandals destroy Jack’s condo Maggie is convinced she’s right. Then her home is searched. What did Jack leave behind?

While waiting for this romantic suspense to be released, you can read snippets every weekend on my blog for Weekend Writing Warriors.

Progress by Diane Burton

My last post was such a downer. February was a downer month. Here it is March and, WOW, what a change. Having a pity party (about lack of progress) should never last a whole month! So, I’d like to share what’s changed.

Thanks to wonderfully supportive writers, like you all, the Insecure Writers Support Group, and friends, I feel lifted up and raring to go. My work-in-progress, a romantic suspense that’s had a variety of titles, is coming together. I only wrote 7,000 words in February. Since my goal was 500 words/day, I was behind about 7k. Talk about depressing.

Already this month, I’ve written 3,000 words, and feel great about that. I also had a visit from my Muse (LOL) and came up with what I think is a great title: Numbers Never Lie. Being fellow writers, you know that feeling. I felt like a grinning Hannibal Smith rubbing his hands together and saying, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

Isn’t it (ironic) funny how something as small as a title can change our attitude? That and sunshine. February around the Great Lakes produces gray skies. When I was a kid, one of the Detroit newspapers ran a contest: guess how many minutes of sunshine in February. My mother’s estimate was 7,000 (292 hours; 10 days). Mom’s estimate was too high. We love living near Lake Michigan. The beach, the water. Summer is wonderful. February isn’t.

For the past four years, we’ve gone out to Arizona to visit our son and his family. Not so this year. They moved here. As much as I love them living close by, we don’t have an excuse to leave Michigan in the winter. I told Hubs next year we’ll find some place to go, family or not.

Speaking of family, we’ve seen a lot of the grandkids this year. At least, once a week we see the twins (now 4 months old) and Toddler Girl plus the two older kiddies. Hubs is helping the older two prepare their cars for Pinewood Derby. Grandson’s Cub Scout troop insists this is a family event so granddaughter is participating, too. On another note, we went to Number One (agewise) Granddaughter’s orchestra concert. She plays violin. So proud of her musical talent. And we attended grandson’s karate promotion. He earned a yellow stripe on his red belt. Although he’s eight, he’d determined to earn his black belt be the time he’s twelve. Such determination. Proud grandma here!

I’m chugging along on Numbers Never Lie. My plan is to release it before summer. Here’s the tentative blurb:

A shocking secret brings danger to Jack Sinclair and his sister Maggie. 

As kids, they were the fearless threesome. As adults, Jack's an accountant; Drew, a lawyer; Maggie, a teacher and camping troop leader. Returning from a weekend camping trip, Maggie receives horrifying news. She refuses to believe her brother’s fatal car crash was an accident. If the police won’t investigate, she’ll do it herself. Convincing Drew Campbell to help is her only recourse.

Drew Campbell was too busy to return his best friend’s phone call. Too busy to attend a camping meeting important to his teen daughter. Too busy to stay in touch with Jack. Logic and reason indicate Jack’s accident was just that—an accident caused by fatigue and fog. Prodded by guilt, he’ll help Maggie even if he thinks she’s wrong.

A break-in at Jack’s condo convinces Maggie she’s right. Then her home is searched. What did Jack leave behind?

I’ll be back on the 30^th and update you on my progress. BTW, I share snippets from Numbers Never Lie each weekend on the Weekend Writing Warriors' hop.

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She blogs here on the 16th and 30th of each month.