Next year is the 10th anniversary of Blaze, if you can believe that. I’m writing a Uniformly Hot Blaze to celebrate, and in this book both the hero and the heroine are in the U.S. Air Force.

I know as much about Air Force life as I do about quantum mechanics. Not a good place to begin, but I love the story and the characters, and I’m determined to do them justice.

The problem is, there is a humongous, gigantic, epic amount of information about the Air Force. A lot of the data is available online. Too much data. Trying to get the specifics, the telling details, is turning out to be a huge task. For example, when to Captains greet each other in every day work situations, do they just act like regular folks on the job (only in uniforms) or is there a protocol that’s understood and observed?

Then there’s the issue of jargon specific to not only AF personnel in general, but how that differs from the jargon of fighter pilots.

I probably could skim some things, but I don’t want to. One of the things I’m loving about working on this book is that I’m a total sentimental sap when it comes to folks serving their country. Seriously, I tear up at the National Anthem, I’m a sucker for men and women risking their lives for a greater cause. Honor and courage move me deeply.

So I’ve got close to 80 bookmarks on my computer, everything from details on uniforms to job descriptions to the course syllabus of Fighter Pilot Training School. I also have a 3 DVD set that was produced by Tony Scott shortly after 9/11, that follows three hopefuls in their quest to fly F-15s.

It’s still not enough, and I’ve got a ton of xx’s where I can’t find the specific word or phrase or even the correct training progression. It would have helped a great deal to have been in the Air Force myself, but it’s a bit too late for that.

What I have found is that there are live online chats with recruiters that I can go to, although I feel guilty taking up much of their time. I’m going to try to drive to Vegas and go visit the PR person at Nellis AF Base, if at all possible.

If I’m lucky, I’ll hook up with someone who knows the universe of this particular branch of the military, and maybe, maybe, they’ll take a look at the manuscript and help point out corrections that need to be made.

I know the books aren’t on the shelves for long, and that so many people regard them as little books (and that’s on the kind end of the spectrum), but I cannot, will not, give this subject a light brushstroke. Of course, the central theme is the love story, and it does take center stage, but the world my characters inhabit deserves to feel real, be as close to the truth as I can make it.

I wish I had months and months to research, but I’ve got to work fast, so that means working smart. And being disciplined, because all I want do is dive into the research and not come up for air.

I have always loved reading books that took me new places, that gave me the experience of entering a fully formed world I’ve not been exposed to. I’ve also read too many books where the research has been painfully neglected. The may be small books, but I know Blaze readers are smart and deserve the kind of reading experience that lets them escape into a world they can inhabit, that feels utterly real.

So, um, if anyone knows an Air Force kinda person who wouldn’t mind talking to a writer – let me know.

Also, just because I love it beyond belief when I can lose myself in another world, any contemporary examples out there? Favorite books that swept you away to a new, unique view of life? I’d love to hear about them.

As an aside, and you’ll eventually see that this fact (sorta) fits in, one of the films starred Harry Reems, the star, along with Linda Lovelace, of the infamous porn masterwork Deep Throat.

Anyway, after the 4 films were in the can and I’d slept for several days straight, my boss offered me another job: to edit a full-out porn film called Insatiable, also starring Linda Lovelace, from the XXX rating it was, to a soft-porn film, by cutting out all the XXX parts.

Because I wanted to learn about editing, and because I was a broke freelancer who needed to make the rent, I accepted the job. My workplace was a very plush office on the 18th floor of a building on Rodeo Drive. I was armed with a remote control, a film version of Insatiable with a counter running across the bottom, counting off each second of film, and a notebook. I had to watch each second of film, and mark off the numbers of each scene that got too porny. You know, the money shots.

This was not elegant editing. This was chopping up film in chunks with no eye to continuity, sound, music, or anything else one normally considers while editing. I was simply taking out the schtupping.

I wasn’t a connoisseur of XXX films. I was in my early 20s, in fact, and had limited exposure to the infinite varieties and creative ways boinking could be filmed. By the end of the project, it was doubtful I ever wanted to have sex again, let alone find anything remotely sexy about porn at all. The film, when it was cut, was more of a short than a feature, which they fixed by slowing down the scenes that remained. Including the sound effects and music. It was a very, very bad film. I cannot stress this enough. However, it paid the bills, and I learned how not to edit a film.

(I would, in later years, have to edit for reals, and knowing what not to do was actually helpful).

Anyway….

Fast forward a bunch of years. I was more in the mainstream of filmmaking by then. Real movies with budgets and stuff. My friends at the time were all connected in some way to the film world, too. A bunch of us were also seriously, SERIOUSLY, into playing charades. You know charades, right? Everyone knows charades. But we played death-match charades. No one actually died, but the atmosphere was tense and cutthroat. I was uber competitive, and damn good, if I do say so myself.

We would gather, like 10 of us at a time, at someone’s house. We all brought food and drink, and then we would be charade gladiators, giving no mercy, expecting none in return.

The game became kind of known in the community, and more people started showing up. Friends of friends. A hell of a lot of them were actors, which gave them an edge, because they were used to making complete fools of themselves in front of large groups of people. Soon, so many joined us we had to find big houses with big living rooms to accommodate the teams.

So….

One night, we were playing in our typical manner. There were a lot of people there I didn’t know. People you, if you were watching TV or going to movies back then, would have recognized. People I may have wanted to work with in some capacity. The other team was up. A nice actor who played a friendly young doctor on a hit series faced our team. He did the old-timey movie thing with his hands that let us know he was giving us a movie title, then did another very familiar gesture with just one hand that let us know it was porn. Then he held up one finger – a one word title.

Before that lone finger even had a chance to come down, I had shouted, “Insatiable!”

Silence from the room. Everyone was staring at the weird chick who clearly knew her porn flicks. I then said (and god, I remember it so well) “What? I worked on it.”

A lot more silence. A lot more staring. It took me a minute to realize they misunderstood. But when I tried to explain that I hadn’t been in the damn thing, there was too much laughing at me for anyone to have heard.

A poignant moment, yes. One that was, throughout my career in film, brought up at horribly embarrassing times by people I’d forgotten were there. All brought on by the innocent news announcement from TVSquad.com that Starz (a cable network) is picking up the rights to the book Insatiable by Gael Greene. About being a food critic. Not that other thing.<

My roommate and I live in a big old house in the middle of nowhere. Gorgeous place (see picture of the view from the front yard) and plenty of room for all our rescue pets to play. These two cats had never wandered, but I suppose the lure of spring was too much for them.

There’s a ton of brush, a river, trees still in sleep mode, as far as the eye can see. If I were a cat, I’d wander, too. Only, we have a couple of fenced acres for them to play in. Anyway, they took off, and we commenced The Great Cat Hunt. No dice. It was horrible and achy, and it was a dark and stormy night (for real!).

It was the thunder, I think, that brought them back. Late last night, when I called for them for the hundredth time, they ran in and immediately insisted on food and a place by the fire.

I was amazingly relieved. This morning, having found where the breach in the fence was, I fixed that by schlepping huge rocks, and hung around until they approached the breach, looked at me accusingly, then went on their way.

They might find another breach. It’s possible, and I need to be prepared for that. But I can’t deny them the opportunity to play in the yard. They love it so, so much.

In other news, I’m reading JD Robb’s In Death series for the first time. Now I see what all the fuss is about. I’m loving the books, think Nora is a master at this writing stuff, and I’m learning a lot as I read. I’m not sure I’ll read all thirty immediately, but I like the idea of having them to look forward to.

I’m also listening to the entire Hornblower series on CD. This has been one of my favorite series since I was a girl.

The other series I seem to need to read every year or so is Harry Potter.

I know these books really, really well. Yet I cry each time, or tense up at certain battles, and smile in anticipation of a favorite scene. These are my comfort reads, and nothing, not food, not a location, not anything in the world comforts quite as much as returning to these books.

I know some people never re-read. What about you? What are your comfort reads? Are they series? Stand-alone books? Or do you shake your head at those crazy people who read a book when they already know what happens?

Needless to say, I’m having a wonderful time. I’m also kinda miffed that I, personally, have never had a single solitary supernatural experience. My mother believed she’d seen ghosts of her relatives. My father, too. My sister believes she’s been reincarnated, and me? Nothing.

So what about you? Any cool ghost encounters in your life? I’d love to hear them…and I’m hoping to include at least one tale from the comments in the book!

Let’s hear it for spooky!

PS – don’t forget you can still pick up a copy of SEXY MS. TAKES, on the shelves right now!

Sexy Ms. Takes

It’s been a long time since I had a book out. My last Blaze was MS. MATCH, out last October. I didn’t write for a long while after my husband died. Mostly, what I did during that time was read the Harry Potter books and I must have done other things, but it’s mostly a blur. I had already started a book, a Forbidden Fantasy Blaze, but you know what? I couldn’t do it. I tried. Hard. But that book, those characters, had too many memories attached, and I had to put it aside. Maybe someday I’ll get back to it, but I doubt it.

So what I did, when I was ready, was switch gears. The Encounters series had come into Blaze, and I thought, hey, maybe I couldn’t write a whole book, but I could write three short stories.

The idea for SEXY MS. TAKES came to me in a flash. I used to hang out with a bunch of crazy theater folk and I knew a lot about auditions and plays and rehearsals, and what it was like to dream those dreams. (Warning: name dropping about to happen) I’d spent a lot of time backstage with my friend Peter Frechette, a gloriously wonderful actor you might remember from his stint as Louis DiMucci in Grease 2, or his role as George Fraley in Profiler. He used to let me tag along to rehearsals for his Off Broadway and Broadway shows, lucky me. I loved the whole atmosphere of the New York theater scene.

Side tangent: One year, I went to see a play of his, and after opening night a whole gang of us went to a nearby restaurant/bar afterward. I was writing for Silhouette at the time, and Peter announced to the crowd that I was a famous romance novelist. (Yeah. Famous. He was such a sweetie pie.) Anyway, some of the guys decided they would do a live tableau of romance novel covers. In the restaurant. The guys in question were Ethan Hawke, Frank Whaley and a very young Wilson, Robert Sean Leonard. They posed in clinches as everyone (there were maybe a dozen of us) laughed and applauded. (We’d had quite a bit of celebratory liquor by then). It was a great night, and one among many that makes me nostalgic for those long ago days.

Back to the present: I thought a lot about dreaming big, setting your heart on something wonderful, and what happens when dreams don’t come true. My experience has taught me that often the best things in life come when we least expect it, when we’re absolutely certain that the world as we knew it has come to a crashing halt, and that nothing good could possibly come our way.

In SEXY MS. TAKES, three Broadway hopefuls are sidetracked on their way to the biggest audition of the lives. Each dream is lost in a split second. But, much to their surprise, something better comes along. Well, someone better. What was the worst day of their lives is transformed into an improbable dream come true.

Writing the book became an unexpected dream come true for me. I lost myself in these three love stories, and the process of telling these tales brought me out of my grief. The power of love never ceases to amaze me.

And now the book is here. I keep a copy on my desk to remind me that no matter what, there’s still hope, still the possibility of happiness and most of all, that love just keeps on going.

I hope you all have wonderful holidays, and that you take away hopeful messages of love and forever each time you pick up a romance novel.

It got me thinking about why there isn’t a group of Jo Leigh fans out there with tattoos of my characters. When I stopped laughing (which took a long time) I thought about the nature of fandom, and how unique each venue seems to be.

Gaiman tattoos actually make a weird kind of sense, seeing as how he does a lot of visual work. So maybe these tats, while being an homage to Neil’s characters, are really more about the illustrator. No? Maybe?

Anyway, it seems to me as if there are fannish things for each kind of fiction – the science fiction bunch tend to draw stuff, compute stuff, play stuff, act out stuff. The literary fans seem to like to talk a lot, and write from a distance, but I don’t know of any lit fans who do much jousting or wearing of costumes (with the notable exception of characters from ThirtySomething who went as Will and Arial Durant for Halloween). Thriller fans? I’m not sure about them. I assume they don’t actually plot to take over the world, but I could be wrong.

Mystery fans? Depending on the brand, they can go anywhere from knitting something, in front of a fire, preferably, as they listen to their favorite cozy read by a British actor to learning how to light a cigarette with a pack of matches in a dark alley for those noir-lovers out there. But I do think the main thing for mystery fans is making friends with a long standing character and chuckling quietly to themselves as they mentally sneak out of a conversation with whomever they’re really with, to imagine they’re with the witty and wry gumshoe they’ve come to admire.

Then there’s the whole fanfiction thing. That’s all about sharing the wicked. Squeeing over the naughty bits. The forbidden. Somewhere in there is a streak of rebelliousness. That middle-aged housewife you’re standing behind at the grocery store? The one who kinda needs her roots done, wearing the mommy jeans? Only she knows that she’s just written this incredibly dark and disturbing Supernatural slash that’s going to singe the eyebrows off her flist.

Now comes romance. I probably know the least about romance fans. The one thing that I know for sure is that they tend to keep books. All of them. Forever. Moving them from town to town in boxes. Shelving them in every room because it makes them happy just to know they have the books.

I also know some fangirls (or fanboys, not sure about that, either) who have taken on the roll of Author Protector, sworn to destroy the words of anyone who doesn’t understand and appreciate their Beloved Scribe.

Then there are some fans who find bliss in the history, and expand that love to costumes, or at the very least reading nonfiction history books on the Regency period.

But I think there are more ways we show how we’re romance fans. Romance fans feel things so deeply, they must feel the need to express themselves in unique, wonderful ways.

My confession? I’m one of those fans who gets an incredible rush when I meet or speak to a like-minded stranger. Any mention of Hornblower, and I’m beside myself with joy. I’m also that way about Sondheim, the Durants, Carl Sagan, Jane Austen and some characters in TV shows that if I told you, you’d laugh. No matter. The connection for me is where it’s at. The chance encounter.

How does your fangirl come out?

It’s been a while since I was 27, but as she was lamenting the sad state of her love life, I was instantly taken back to those days I had been so like her. She’s very successful career-wise. In fact, she’s an attorney, was valedictorian of her class at NYU law school, and now works for a non-profit dealing in restorative justice. She’s beautiful, and I’m not just saying that because I adore her, she really is. Funny, kind, bright, thoughtful. Any man would be lucky to be with her, and it’s hard for me to believe there’s one worthy enough. Now that, I admit, I say with complete prejudice.

At her age, I was like that. Successful in my career, driven, bright, focused. But I constantly lamented my lack of love and was steeped in self-doubt and low self-esteem, even though I tried hard to hide that fact. Now, when I look at pictures of myself at that age, I’m amazed at what a hottie I was. Seriously, I had no idea.

How did I not know I was a babe? How did I not see all the terrific things I had going for me? I know now it was because I was looking through a distorted window. I’m sure there must be some young people who see themselves clearly. Wait, no, I doubt that. I think that’s part of being young. We don’t see ourselves yet because we haven’t become our true selves yet. So I muddled through, just as my niece is muddling. She can’t see it yet. But the good part, for me back then and for her now, is that she knows who she wants to be. She has role models, and not just the few people out there who’ve made headlines.

A very cool (and sometimes weird if I think about it too much) thing is that she reads Blaze books. Loves them. She reads my Blazes. Eeek! I think it’s great that she does, because in today’s romance novels, particularly Blazes, I believe she can find really wonderful role models. Strong women who aren’t ashamed of their sexuality, who are out to make a difference, who learn to see themselves as deserving of love. Not just deserving, but worthy of the best. She’s reading about men who need to work at it to get their women. The heroes have to transform just as much, if not more, as the heroines.

I want her to believe that about herself. I want all the women who read Blazes to believe that about themselves. Therefore, it’s crucial to me that I write heroines and heroes of substance. Books that don’t trivialize either the sexual journey or the emotional journey. Not that they can’t be fun books, or funny books, in fact, humor and joy are important aspects of painting a picture a reader can believe in.

As I continue to write for Blaze, I feel this responsibility more and more acutely. These books, I believe, are the fundamental novels of so many, many womens’ lives. They’re not the flashy Oprah books or the one’s people write their theses about. (Although there’s nothing wrong with those). Romance novels are the bread and butter, the solid foundations. They are accessible and relatable and the ideas and values in them become part of a person’s core beliefs. I’ve seen too much proof from readers and writers to believe differently. I do not for one moment think these are trashy little books, or that they’re in some way not real books. These are the books that help create who we are. Not every book will become part of a readers’ character, but any book can.

I’m delighted to say that my editor and I have just come to agreement on five more books, and those will be coming out in 2010 and 2011. I’m excited and nervous, because I want to write women who are real, who face real dilemmas, who overcome real obstacles in a believable way. And who not only get the heroes, but who get a new perspective on who they are and their intrinsic worth. It’s a tall order, and one I’m not sure I can fulfill, but I’m going to give it my best shot.

I know for me, my life has been so informed and shaped by reading that it’s impossible to separate books from the rest of my life. Not just my current career, but every job I’ve held, every dream I’ve had, every goal I’ve fought to achieve. Books, much more than school itself, and probably just a bit less than my nuclear family, have been an enormous influence. I know that’s true for other people – lots of other people – as well. Can you even imagine a life without books? Can you picture your teenage years if you hadn’t been a reader? I’d love to know how books have influenced your lives. How they’ve changed you and how they’ve become entwined in the fabric of your days. What do you know now that you didn’t know then? Growing up with role models who strive to be the best they can be made me work harder, dare more. Is that true for you, too? I bet it is.

Whatever I’m reading at the moment (The Silver Swan by B. Black)
Steampunk
Sondheim
my nieces and nephews
kittens I have rescued
that I live in a really weird Utah tiny town and am constantly freaked out by the politics here
Dr. Who and my nerves about 11
My LJ friends and how it’s kind of like dating in the dark, because I get to know them through mutual obsession, which, in my opinion, is the best way to meet people
That NO radio signals come in clearly in this town
Criminal Minds
CM gen fanfiction, CM slash but only H/R
X-Files slash, but only M/K
Writing Is Hard
Plotting Is Fun
Having Written Is Awesome
Why did I stop going to the pool when it felt so great?
Social Media and hub technology
Neuroscience
Neuroscience (yes, I said it twice)
The intersection of neuroscience/religion/mythology
That I have made peace with my obsessiveness and have learned to enjoy it

And yet, I have the feeling that romance readers are obsessively interested in fabulous things, many I haven’t heard of. Because romance readers read all kinds of stuff, and are open to possibilities, and tend to have welcoming hearts. So maybe this is what I’m supposed to post.

We didn’t want anything fancy, didn’t care about anything but getting hitched with family and friends to witness the unbelievable. I was 50 (good god) and I’d never been married, had never wanted to be. So this was something of a surprise. We picked Reno because my husband’s sister lived there, and we picked the conference hotel chapel because most of the people I cared about in the world would be there as well.

That day is mostly a blur to me. I do know that I sobbed my way through the entire ceremony. Not wept prettily, wiping a delicate tear. No. I sobbed so hard I could barely speak. Could not stop. So not cool.

I also remember all the people who were there to celebrate with us. Blaze babes, of course. Writing friends from before I was published or they were published. My amazing editor Birgit Davis-Todd and sometimes editor and friend Brenda Chin. We had a great cake. Jill Shalvis and Debbi Rawlins busted their butts getting the suite ready for the small party. I desperately wanted to take off my shoes.

Even though I never changed my name, that day I wanted everyone to call me Mrs. Wendelken. I was married. To my first, best and last love. At an RWA conference. So fun.

I have a lot of memories from that day, but this picture, which hangs in our living room, is one of my favorites. It was from the folks at Harlequin, and there couldn’t have been a more wonderful, personal, meaningful gift.

If you click on the picture, you can read the fabulous cover copy.

I hope all of you who went to the conference had a great time, and for those of you who couldn’t go, I hope you read something wonderful. And saw Harry Potter, which rocked.

The people in my life understand that unexpected things will come up in conversation. Sometimes those things might be considered gross. Some of them are unabashedly gross. But they’re also interesting. At least to me.

I consider all my non-fiction reading research, and it’s one of the best perks of the job. I’m pretty much useless when it comes to things like taxes or fixing the plumbing or appropriate wedding gifts, but damn, I know some neat stuff.

Not that I’ll ever use it all. When I do use it I end up having to go back to find the original reference because I have too many old Beatle’s lyrics in my brain that I invariably get some part of the facts wrong. I don’t have the kind of helpful memory (as seen on TV) either. My facts come up when it’s least convenient, not to mention least polite. I don’t believe I’ve ever had that gem of information that saved the day, or even the hour.

What I have done, however, is found a way to marry my kind of brain (all over the place and undisciplined but eager, like a puppy) with the work I do. Believe it or not, I was once a bookkeeper. Me plus numbers? Rubbish. Completely. Whoever hired me was insane, or deeply sorry. I quickly left the real world, where I felt wholly inadequate, for the make believe, and I’ve lived here ever since, quite happily.

Okay, so I’ve had to be disciplined sometimes. Like for deadlines. But only when I can’t help it. Recently, I’ve had to get up with the aid of an alarm clock. It remains very unsettling, but I go to swim aerobics and the class is early in the morning. I still haven’t managed to get to sleep at a regular time.

Somehow, I do manage to read interesting books, watch the Science Channel and Discovery and listen to podcasts by odd people and generally live as a perpetual student.

And, I’m always on the lookout for more. So, what have you read lately that blew you away? Any thing on Netflix I should look into? I’ve recently discovered Steampunk, so I’m diving into those waters, but what am I missing? I know you guys have some recs I’ll love.