I recently had the joy of exploring some of Europe with my daughter. She did a semester in Spain at the University of Salamanca and convinced me to join her at the end of it. We visited Barcelona and then London, and had the BEST TIME EVER! We laid out on the pristine Barcelona beach, wandered through a Gaudi house (fabulous!), and then in London saw THE LION KING (breathtaking) and visited Rigby & Peller, the corsettier of the Queen. In case you’re wondering, there was nothing–and I do mean NOTHING–about the bra I was wearing that was fitted correctly. In fact, my saleswoman at the end convinced me to throw it into the rubbish bin saying, “The item has served. Badly, but it has served, so we honor it as it passes.” Then she tossed it into the garbage…er rubbish. My daughter’s went in right behind mine.

In any event, it was a fabulous vacation, but then a horrible thing happened: we came home. OMG, I’m supposed to start working again? Really? Why? And excuse me, what do you mean no one comes into my room during the day and magically cleans for me?

I tried all sorts of excuses to delay the inevitable pile of work. I had jet lag and needed to catch up on my tv shows or the DVR would explode. I had to do laundry, see some of my friends, drink coffee and maybe think about exercising again. (My first racquetball match coming back was DISMAL!) But in the end, I ran out of excuses. Then I ran out of easy busy work. Then I ran into–quite literally–my calendar. It was on my desk, and I tripped over a pile of books and…well, okay I FELL on it.

And on it, marked in bright red, were my book deadlines. OMG, time to get back to work. Instead, I’ve written this blog. So help me out! How do you force yourself back into work mode? I’m not talking about an email here, a blog there. I mean serious, 4000 words a day WORKING. Any secret tips for getting back into the right mind frame? Cause I haven’t got it. Not yet, at least. There was a time I worked six days a week because I was that disciplined. Right now? I’m thinking about getting a mani/pedi.

Help me! And the best suggestion will win a copy of my latest blaze: IN GOOD HANDS by Kathy Lyons

Vacation, wooo!

I’m typing this from my hotel room in Victoria, British Columbia, where the manfriend and I are spending three days of our otherwise Oregon-based vacation. Bonus: they overbooked the economy rooms so we got upgraded to the luxury suite for no extra charge! BLAM!

As a quick and long-awaited aside, I racked up a wholly-worth-it exorbitant roaming charge on my phone, taking a call from the most terrifying-slash-exciting area code there is: 416. Just as I’d been hoping for for the last couple months, it was my intrepid editor, Laura, calling from Toronto to offer a contract for my latest Blaze proposal! To say this was exciting is a gross understatement. To say it was a relief, coming thirteen long months and a few manuscripts that didn’t hit the mark, is laughably inadequate. When the call came through we were driving around the boonies near Sooke, southeast of Victoria, and my phone decided to cut out in the middle of the call, but I heard enough to keep breathing. I sold my second Blaze! I’m not a fluke!

Back to travel news. We’ve been enjoying most of the three-week trip in the Cascades region of Oregon, where my husband spent his childhood and formative years (not that he isn’t still forming). We passed our first day in Portland, staying with my sister-in-law, and got lost in the wonderful Powell’s bookstore for a few hours before retiring to her house to watch a truly abysmal film on TV that would explode any romance novel afficionado’s sense of all that is right and good: Stayin’ Alive, the 1983 sequel to Saturday Night Fever. I love me a cheesy, dance-centric movie, but I defy anyone to watch that one and explain its moral to me. Befuddling.

It’s been an adventurous visit so far. Between lazy jigsaw puzzling days and delicious family meals, we’ve gone on a half dozen hikes, including two overnight camping trips. Having grown up in Maine, I’m blown away that there are forests you can camp in without dying of massive blood loss to the mosquitos and blackflies in the night. What a concept! The first backpacking excursion took us four miles into the cedar-tastic Middle Santiam Wilderness, where we made camp at Pyramid Creek. Lovely falling asleep to the sound of the river. We had to wade through a far more formidable river to reach the inner trails, and on the way out, the water was so deep and cold my legs seized up halfway to the far bank. The manfriend had to wade back out and lead me the rest of the way. Very intrepid.

Back at my in-laws place, my stepdad-in-law taught me how to cast for flyfishing, which I spent two hours practicing, sans fly, in their driveway. Relaxing, the way that darts are relaxing. He’s a tough sensei, but he said I’d taken it to it better than expected. Maybe one day he’ll deign to take me to an actual river!

We’re greatly enjoying our side trip in Victoria…very romantic after two weeks of crashing at my in-laws’. We drove up through Washington and took the ferry, a pleasant and scenic hour and a half. Victoria reminds me a bit of one of my favorites places in the world, Wellington, New Zealand—sunny, bustling port city, only with spruces instead of palms. Bonus, this bird-nerd has been treated to multiple sightings of one of her favorite species—guillemots. We’re going to drive out and explore more of Vancouver Island tomorrow. Luckily few people have asked where we’re visiting from, and those who have didn’t seem to hold our Bostonian status against us. You never know. Hockey fans are passionate.

Off in search of a drink now; have to celebrate the new sale, of course. Hope wherever you are, life is treating you well!

Meg

It has been 15 years since I’ve taken more than three days away from work, but I won’t be able to say that much longer. My in-laws are celebrating their 50th anniversary and wanted my husband and his sisters’ families all together. In one place. All of us. Together. Sigh. For an entire week. It’s not that I don’t love them, I do. They are all good people. But I’m usually good after about four hours of their company, and I’m sure they feel the same way about me. You know, like at Christmas? We get together, we eat a meal, we open presents, and then we go our separate ways.

This isn’t the first time they’ve done one of these big family things, but I’ve always had to travel for work during them. Sheer dumb luck, I promise. The phrase I keep telling myself is, “at least we are on the beach.” Crystal Beach, Fla., which I know is beautiful. They’ve rented a McMansion and my husband and I will have the carriage house all to ourselves. So that will help. A week from today, we are celebrating our 25th anniversary (Yes, I married very young. And yes, I can think of many, many ways to celebrate such a milestone that don’t include my in-laws.)

So… It’s been a really long time since I’ve had time off. I will have to do some work, but only about a day’s worth while I’m there. My plan is to sleep, eat, play in the ocean, and read — a lot! I’m downloading the June Blaze’s to my Kindle, and I’m open for suggestions as far as books. I’m in the mood for humorous reads, and anything paranormal.

Are you guys going on vacation this summer? Where are you going? Do you have have suggestions on how to handle these big family vacations? I asked my mom how she survived when I was a kid and we traveled with my dad’s family. “Valium, lots of Valium,” she said. I told my doctor this, and she laughed at me. But she wouldn’t give me a prescription. Sigh. It’s okay, knowing me I’d fall asleep on a floaty and drift out to sea where a handsome sailor…. Hmmmm.

Do you have funny vacation stories? I want to hear them. Book suggestions? Coping with large family gathering suggestions? Tell me!