Hey, all! This is going to be a short one. I have a Blaze due Feb 15th, and my editor is going to be wildly annoyed with me if it’s not on time.

I just wanted to pop in and say how awesome our Blaze babes are. I can occasionally come up with a good title, but I generally suck at them. I put out the SOS to my fellow writers a couple of weeks ago for a title, and they came up with HER PRIVATE TREASURE. Great, yes? (My hero is a lawyer and my heroine is an FBI agent, and they’re trying to solve a jewel robbery/smuggling case—in addition to finding lots of beachy places to have steamy sex.) It’ll be out in September, so be sure to look for it!

And thanks so much to my girls for bailing me out—again. You guys rock!!

As 2009 comes to a close, I’ve spent much-appreciated time with my family over the holidays, and one of the gifts we received from Santa was the 6th Harry Potter DVD (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince). Unless you’ve been living under a literary rock over the last decade, you know this is the movie adaptation of J.K. Rowling’s book of the same name.

I’m a serious student of the HP series. I think Rowling is one of the most talented storytellers of our time. And I’ve read the books so many times, I can easily recite lines, plots, motivations and themes.

It’s the themes I’d like to address. While Harry’s obvious battle of good versus evil doesn’t translate to the average romance novel (hey, not every hero can literally save the world), a theme is critical to a great book. Rowling’s theme is certainly good versus evil, but it’s also (and maybe more importantly so) the power of love. Love as a mother’s sacrifice, a character’s compulsion to defend his or her friends, a hero’s ability to find and return love that’s offered.

Whatever we, as authors, write plot-wise, the real story comes down to theme. What’s the story beneath the tale? What overlying compulsion drives the story? What do these characters really care about, want, need…have to have to survive?

The rest is movements on a chess board.

Rowling, her characters and her message are clear. As readers, we spent years trying to discern her purpose, her goal and endgame. When you complete the series, it’s obvious she stayed true to her story from the first word to the last. That’s theme. That’s what separates good, interesting and entertaining from great and epic. While I have no illusions that I’m the author of epic stories, I’ve learned through much trial and error about the importance in keeping my theme true and clear.

So I, as weird as it seems, have something in common with J.K. Rowling. We’re both storytellers at heart. That theme bonds us, no matter how different the tales we tell.

We writers can’t cure cancer, or bring peace on Earth, but I know many if not all of us think the world is a better place with a few more stories about the power of love.

Hey, all! Hope everybody had a great Thanksgiving!

I just got in from out of town with the in-laws, and I wanted to share my Feb 2010 Blaze cover with you. Awesome, huh? Ah…to be a fly on the wall of the art department at Harlequin—pretty much any day of the week.

God bless those lawmen,
Wendy

The Yamaha and the Nuvo!

Since my peeps are bestselling authors Jacquie D’Alessandro and Jennifer St. Giles, they’re people you know, too. We’re talking about the screenwriting class Jennifer is taking and how it relates to fiction writing (lots more complications!) Mine and Jacquie’s heads are about to spin off.

We’re also cooling off (Yes, I know it’s October, but it was 75 when I pulled into Jacquie’s driveway. Welcome to Halloween in the South!) with this fantastic drink called Nuvo. (see picture) According to Jacquie’s college-age son, this is what all the rappers drink. A pink fizzy cocktail. O-kay. Just one more reason I’m officially old.

Which is why our musical choice is Jacquie’s new Yamaha player piano (with Disklavier—don’t ask, I have no idea what it is either). Her musical tastes veer more toward tunes that were sung on The Lucy Show. (If you don’t know what that is, then you’re too young.) While the songs are lovely, I’ve decided when I have my mid-life crisis I’m getting a Corvette. Jacquie’s husband claims I’ll come out cheaper than buying the piano.

The Nuvo is calling! See ya!
–Wendy

I admit it, I’m blogging, so I don’t have to work.

At the end of the week, the final line changes are due for my February 2010 Blaze (Tempt Me Again). This, in my opinion, is one of the worst things about being an author—reading my own writing. At this stage of the production process, I’ve read through the darn thing so many times, there’s no way I can catch too many remaining mistakes. (Thankfully, my editor and the copy editor have also read through the manuscript several times, so they’ve likely already caught most everything.)

This last read is also the moment of truth. The actual printing process begins, the moment of no returns, no exchanges and certainly no refunds has arrived. Since only minor changes are allowed, if I hate it, too bad. If the conflict sucks, oh, well. If the characters are idiots, they’re not getting’ any smarter.

By the time I get the cover, I’ll be excited that the book is coming together and will soon be on the shelf. At the moment, though, my stomach is in knots, and I wonder why anybody in their right mind would pay me actual money to do this job. (If my editor is reading this, please disregard this last statement.)

You guys will be there with a shoulder for me to cry on if I hate it…right?

He’s portly, balding and unyielding, but Hercule Poirot—dramatized most distinctly by English actor David Suchet—is a romance hero most should aspire to.

Poirot is, of course, a consummate Agatha Christie protagonist. The Belgium detective, a refugee of WW I, starred in thirty-three Christie novels and many more short stories. The British TV series that brought those mysteries to light is beautifully set in the art deco era of Europe in the 1930’s. Find these gems. Buy them; rent them. Whatever you have to do.

If my hero is having a Alpha-male moment (which, let’s face it, all romance heroes are prone to do), if his temper or ego is driving his actions, I find myself wondering, what would Poirot do? How would he charm the lady? How would he smoothly turn the conversation to his advantage? How would he get the deed (whatever that deed happens to be) done?

He’s consummate in his manners, methodical in his approach to his work and complete in his respect of everyone, especially women. He holds them on a pedestal (something a modern hero or two could take note of). He flatters them, respects their opinions and reveres their beauty and style.

Of course Poirot also has a significant touch of OCD, is fussy, self-congratulatory and certainly too effeminate for modern tastes. But, oh, that brain! Clever, intelligent, quick and decisive.

Christie was certainly a woman who knew that a man’s worth lay in the depth of his character and not necessarily the breadth of his shoulders.

I spent yesterday at the amazing world of IKEA. If you haven’t experienced this universe, get yourself there ASAP.

Hands empty, you can wander in this place (which, by the way, is large enough to warrant its own zip code) and hours later wander out with a fully-furnished two-bedroom apartment on a pallet. It’s a dizzying trip, and one that might not change your life, but can certainly change your surroundings for the better.

While looking for a new bed for my youngest daughter, I was distracted by a bunk bed group that featured a double bed on top and a den (yes, a den) underneath. Below the bunk was a comfy loveseat, desk, lamp and chair. The coup de grace were these cool panels that hung from the top bunk over the “doorway” to the den, leaving the space in a tiny world of solitary creativity. In a flash of inspiration, I could have happily curled up there all day with my laptop and written the greatest novel on the planet.

I’m sure the IKEA staff would have had an issue with this plan, but I fantasized anyway.

The cozy use of space reminded me of dorm rooms and shared apartments from my past, when my life occupied a 12×12-foot area and little else. Life has gotten much bigger and more complicated, but my job can still be done in that comfy, intimate area.

And that’s pretty cool.

I was talking with some friends at the gym the other day about reality TV. (Yes, I’m a gym rat, mostly due to a common aliment I’m sure many of you also suffer from—I like to eat.) I’m normally a big fan of programming where there’s actually a writer (The West Wing being my favorite classic), but I do watch the Bravo reality shows—Real Housewives of… (insert your favorite city here), Top Chef, etc. So these gals at the gym thought it would be awesome to have The Secret Lives of Romance Writers.

Ha! As my fellow Blaze writers will attest, that is not Must-See TV. My day involves typing. Sometimes I pause on the keyboard to think, look up a word in my thesaurus, Google something. If I’m really stumped with writing a scene, I might throw in a load of laundry or go to the fridge for a Diet Coke. Compare that to overturning a table at a dinner party, drinking tequila until you throw up or skinning an eel, and you can certainly see why any show about writers is not forthcoming to a channel near you.

I tell this to the gym folks, and they laugh and wink, like I’m downplaying my glamorous life. The guys think my husband is a serious stud, since he’s obviously the test subject for all my love scenes. (I must admit I don’t disabuse them of this idea, since my poor husband needs to get some benefit from the moodiness that generally comes with having a writer for a wife.) The women think I spend my days interviewing potential cover models and flying on book tours all over the country.

Not to say that my publishing career hasn’t offered me many wonderful opportunities. The top of the list is hanging out with fun, interesting, creative people. Plus, I’ve traveled to a lot of great cities—NYC, Chicago, DC, San Francisco. I’ve gone to some cool parties—the Harlequin party at the Waldorf-Astoria in NYC comes particularly to mind.

Mostly, though, I create stories that you’ll hopefully want to read to escape from whatever craziness your life involves. And that simple agenda is fine with me. Sometimes it’s a struggle, sometimes it’s a rush, but it’s what I do.

No tequila or TV cameras required.

9:30 a.m. – LaGuardia Airport
While my life normally consists of writing on my laptop in my kitchen, transporting teenagers to dance/cheerleading rehearsals and keeping my crazy Shih Tzu, Cody, out of trouble, today I’m actually doing something exciting. I’m in New York, attending the Book Expo America convention!

As clichéd as it is, I love New York. The sights, sounds and smells blend and contrast like nowhere else in the world. I’ll be signing books tomorrow afternoon, but until then my buds Jacquie D’Alessandro and Jennifer St. Giles will be joining me in shopping, people watching and, of course, eating.

So, as I go along with my day, I’ll add updates, so you guys feel like you’re on the trip, too. (Sorry, frequent flyer miles aren’t included.) I’ll check in again once we get to the hotel.

11:00 a.m. – Sheraton Times Square
Times Square is, as always, crazy with crowds. Despite what you may have heard, the economy seems to be rolling along here. (Or at least the counterfeit designer bag business is.) We walked over to Maxie’s famous deli and had sandwiches that were waayyy too big, but yummy anyway.

12:30 p.m. – Shopping 5th Avenue
We walked down 5th and looked in the windows of all the high-end boutiques. Cartier, Ferragamo, Bergdorf Goodman, etc. and wound up in Henri Bendel. This Manhattan institution of cosmetics, accessories and casual clothes is always packed with make-up artists who claim to transform you into a new woman with all kinds of lotions and potions. Amazingly, they usually succeed, which is why our credit cards got a serious workout.

5:00 p.m. – Back to the room
Recuperation time. Put the feet up, take showers (though careful ones, so as to not mess up the new make-up job), water break and calling home to talk to the kids. The dog is on another hunger strike. He does this frequently, even though I heat up his food in the microwave to coax him. My husband puts down the food and commands “Eat!” This, much to my frustration, usually works. So, no fear, the strike won’t last long.

7:30 p.m. – Joe Allen’s Restaurant
Out with fellow Blaze Babe and Manhattan resident Hope Tarr. Fantastic food. Fantastic company. A little wine, a lot of laughs. And the pillow is calling, so off I go…

Sleep well,
Wendy

Unfortunately, I’m having a hard time blogging today about happily ever after.

Some of you may know that besides my exciting life as a Blaze Babe, I also write NASCAR-themed books for Harlequin. On Monday afternoon the NASCAR world abruptly lost Charlotte Observer reporter David Poole to a heart attack. And while many of you may not know or care anything about stock car racing, I’d like you to be aware that a powerful voice has been silenced forever.

This tragedy has me thinking about the amazing voices we have in romance—Nora Roberts, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Jayne Ann Krentz and Betina Krahn to name a few of my favorites. I have many friends and fellow Blaze writers who are talented and brilliant writers, people I appreciate for who they are as well as the stories they tell.

With all the chaos and unexpected turns in the world, I’m comforted by the idea that I can pick up a book by a writer I respect and find a few hours of escape and inspiration. And while there are days I feel joyless and drab, I can turn to both writing and reading fun and sexy stories when life isn’t so hot.

On that positive note, I can share that I’m working on a Blaze I’m really excited about. When my editor and I sat down in San Francisco last year and brainstormed my next few books, her advice was to keep going with my fiction island setting of Palmetto Island, SC and the cast of characters I introduced in After Dark (January 2009). So, back to the island we go…

I love writing about my homeland—The South. (And, yes, it’s in caps for a reason.) There was a time in my life when I was self-conscious…yes, folks, even embarrassed about my accent and background. And while those of us with a drawl have reason to regret some of the choices of our ancestors, our culture isn’t something we can deny. Even if we wanted to.

Often, I turn to food when I’m stressed. (Accounting for the extra ten pounds on my ass most of time.) It’s odd that I’d already planned to recreate my grandmother’s classic chicken and rice recipe for dinner tonight. Something inside me apparently knew I’d need the comfort.

So, I’m striving to write while I cook and listen to my Sirius radio (locked, obviously, on the NASCAR channel). I hear lovely stories of a man I actually never met, though I exchanged a few e-mails with him, I read his articles and blogs every week and listened to his radio show every morning.

I hope bringing you into my world today hasn’t been too melancholy. Like many of my fellow Blaze Babes, I’ll be here once a month, and I’m sure I’ll be back to my normal, sarcastic self when I post again.

In the meantime, I try to imagine my fellow Southerner David Poole in heaven, gathering the lost legends of the sport for an interview and giving all the angels something to talk about.