All Done But The Shoutin'

The ink hasn't hit the contract yet, but I'm thrilled to share that Kensington Publishing has offered a sweet two book deal for my Coldwater Cove series! I've instructed my agent to accept so we can proceed with the formalities.

Excuse me while I do a little happy dance.

It's pure joy to conceive of a whole town full of characters whose lives intersect in funny, poignant and unexpected ways. It's even better to know I'll have a chance to share that little town with the reading world.

I don't know when The Coldwater Warm Hearts Club will come out. Or when the second book will follow, but I can share that they will be offered in beautiful trade paperback. This is the perfect format for this type of story. Hopefully, the adventures of the residents of Coldwater will attract book clubs and libraries. Since my hero is a wounded warrior, I'd love to see the book in PX's. And with the Methodist Prayer Chain figuring prominently in several plot points, there may be potential for a little CBA cross over. (If you wonder why I pick on Methodists, the answer is simple. I are one!)

Anyway, I couldn't keep the news any longer. Over the next few months, I'll be sharing more about the special world of Coldwater Cove, including some of Jake's favorite recipes from the Green Apple Grill. My dear husband has pointed out to me that Green Apple Grill's initials spell "gag" but I assured him the fare offered there is Ozark cooking at its finest! And no, there is no section in the menu for road kill!

If you haven't done so already, I invite you to sign up to receive my posts by email. It's easy. Just type your address into the little box in the right hand column. Next post: Jake Tyler's Lazy Man's Chili!

See you then!

Anticipation...all it's cracked down to be

I hate to wait.

I'm sure I'm not alone in this. We are a culture of right now--instant coffee, fast food, friendships with one click via social networks, Whatever it is we want, we want it NOW!

But sometimes I wonder if slower isn't better.

In the case of coffee, food and friendships, I'm certain it is. We moved recently from a city of about a million souls to a small town of about 11,000. Things are definitely slower. There are times when we feel like the only hares in a tortoise race.

I'm starting to like it. If the grocery store clerk wants to visit while she checks out my purchases, who does it hurt? The person behind me in line is likely to join in on the conversation and we all pass a pleasant time.

Measuring the passage of time is a pretty artificial construct, after all. I haven't worn a wristwatch since I started carrying a cellphone years ago. (Of course, that may be because something in my body chemistry drains the batteries of a watch in about a month unless I put a moleskin patch between me and the metal, but that oddity is another blog post entirely!) Even though the town around me is on a different schedule, I still have issues with punctuality. Not mine, you understand. Being a railroader's daughter, I'm rather OCD about being where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there. But having to wait for others who are not so inclined is a trial to my hyper-punctual soul.

However, into each life some waiting must fall. I'm in that situation now. My proposal for The Coldwater Warm Hearts Club is under consideration by a NY publisher and, while the editor is very excited about the project, the acquisition board still has the final say.

So, I'm drumming my fingers on my laptop wondering what will come...If it's something wonderful, trust me, you'll be the first to know.

The Pleasures of Backstory

It's done. I've finished the first three chapters of The Coldwater Warm Hearts Club. I've introduced my characters, set up the conflicts, and generally given my readers the nickle tour of Coldwater, Oklahoma. The town has a personality all its own.

Wanna know how I know so much about this fictitious place?

My friend and I took an afternoon and drew the whole thing out on my dining room table. (Yes, I have a real life friend who doesn't mind playing with imaginary people and places. And yes, I guess you could say we're both a little weird that way.)

But now I know that Lake Jewel forms the eastern boundary of the town. Tiny, well-endowed Bates College, where students graduate in disciplines about as useful as Underwater Basket Weaving, graces its southwestern shore. The Marina is on the north end of the lake and a public park with a gazebo where the town band plays on sultry summer nights occupies the rest of the western lakefront. The other side of the water is home to summer cabin in the hills of the Winding Stair range.

A gem of a Victorian courthouse occupies the center of the town square. It's ringed with thriving businesses, including Gewgaws & Gizzwickies (my heroine's mother's favorite junk shop!) and the Green Apple Grill, Jake Tyler's place. There's an old Opera House circa 1890. The town fathers like to claim that Jenny Lind, the Swedish nightingale, sang there when she was traveling with PT Barnum.

Since that tour took place in 1850-1852, I have my doubts. Guess some folks think there's still one born every minute.

The well-heeled part of town is on the northwest side. Lacy's parents live there in their elegant colonial that's jammed to the rafters with her mom's collectibles and enough furniture to fill two houses of similar size. Lacy's dad is a retired lawyer. He made his career doing taxes for the local businesses and civil litigation over water rights and land contracts. But he secretly wanted to be a trial lawyer and is fascinated with organized crime in the same way some men obsess over football.

Jake's family arrived in Coldwater by accident. His grandparents thought they were retiring to the little town they had honeymooned in some fifty years previously. His grandmother had been big on architecture and fell in love with the ultra modern (at the time!) art deco court house. After they bought their new home, she wanted to take a stroll to the square and bask in the clean lines and geometric embellishments of the government building. Instead she was met by a frilly Victorian in gray limestone.

"Where the h*** are we?" she demanded.

It was the only time she ever swore in her whole life. Turns out, they had honeymooned in Colson, a little town about 80 miles closer to the Texas border, but since the art deco courthouse there had been destroyed in a tornado that very year, Jake's grandmother decided it was fate that had lead them to Coldwater instead.

All these little tidbits are what's known as backstory. Will they all make it into the final book? Probably not. But I need to know them because these details make the town of Coldwater and people in it breathe for me.

Have you ever read about a fictional place that seems so real you almost want to book a trip there? That's what I'm trying to do with Coldwater. If you have a minute, check out the first chapter and let me know if you think I'm succeeding. Thanks!