Author Archives: Sharon Hamilton
Author Archives: Sharon Hamilton
|She’s in the fantasy of the story. He eats cake.|
I always told myself that I loved writing my stories so thoroughly that I would never experience burn-out, or need a break. I told myself that was what other authors did who perhaps had overwhelming things come up in their lives: family concerns, economic downturns or just life in general, and this somehow wouldn’t apply to me. Because none of these things would happen to me. I always thought of myself as bullet-proof. Unstoppable. I’m a great one for giving this kind of advice too. Just ask me.
And then June-July of this year happened. I can’t say what it was. I knew something was up (still in denial mode) when I knew I shouldn’t read my reviews and couldn’t stop from doing so, when friends who had phenomenal success suddenly made me feel like a loser, or when I made up stories about the significance of book sales, how fast people got back to me, and on and on and on it went. You know the drill. Your mind goes on a dribble like chasing oversized zucchinis down a hill. These lumpy thoughts felt like my brain was filled with busy little ants trying to make a kingdom of my gray matter.
|Seeking vehicular meaning. Not.|
Every one of my calendars was still on July, until last week. My desk looked like a hamster was nesting there. I hated to check social media, stayed off Facebook and especially Messenger, but a few got through. When people started thinking perhaps I was dead, I had to laugh. Even then I didn’t respond sometimes. I know. It was selfish, self-absorbed, poor manners. But I needed a break.
This December 15th it will be ten years since I started writing. It will be eight years since I published my first little novella, and five years since I published my biggest seller, Accidental SEAL, my first book to take off and begin to make some serious money. I’ve taken roughly sixty online writing classes, attended about a hundred RWA Chapter meetings, attended probably close to that number of book signings and online FB events. I have a huge following and newsletter list, and lots of adoring fans who fill me with delight. So, what’s the problem?
|The emergency brainectomy of life.|
At first I thought I’m boycotting social media because, after all, this last election cycle had to be one of the nastiest one in our history. I was so disappointed to read how my very good writer friends had positions I thought were crazy, or how they thought my positions were. I stopped talking politics except at home, but I should have stayed out of it there too. There was nothing redeeming on social media and I felt like a mouse in that enormous flywheel, running, running, running to catch up. I still missed things, deadlines snuck up on me, and others I had to just walk away from.
But social media wasn’t the reason for my situation. Amazon wasn’t the big bad monster interfering with discoverability and book sales. I wondered if my Red-White-and-Blue-Rah-Rah-Love-The-Military themes in my books were getting shoved down in the algorhithms. Was there too much competition? Or, did I not work hard enough? Did I believe in myself enough? Where was God, my family and my friends and how come they couldn’t fix me? Help me?
|I expected to look 20 when I peeled this off.|
Facials and massages didn’t work. The soapmaking classes, collage classes, walks in the park, gardening, starting a new business, traveling to Mexico, didn’t work. I dyed my hair red, and that made me laugh, but it didn’t put the fire in my soul. I listened to music, burned a ton of candles, stayed out in the sun as much as I could stand, and even tried to go vegan for awhile. I tried to read and couldn’t get through any of the first chapters. I got more sleep than I’ve had in years. I cancelled seven events, dealt with a blood clot to my leg and a minor stroke my husband had. Everything is fine. No life-threatening things on the horizon then or now.
So, what was it?
It was my logical mind trying to do a BDSM session with my creative mind. It took special glee in whipping and tying my creative self up with “that doesn’t works” and “you are so stupid” comments, humiliating that part of me where all the magic lives. And the longer it went, the more my logical mind tried to be in control. I was trying to figure it all out.
I love the story about the two dogs. One dog is the vicious, fearful one, and the other dog is the excited, loving and creative dog that loves affection, connection and that sense of coming home. That famous Native American story goes that we have to decide what dog we feed.
The only way through it is to give myself over to the Creative Brain. There is no real control, is there? We don’t know why music fills our soul, or why flowers make us happy, or why sun brings us some sort of divine energy from the Heavens. Our creative side has no limits, no borders, no barriers and no regrets.
And it’s a choice. That’s what I’ve chosen.
Will I go back to being a social butterfly? No. I’m going to be careful. I’m going to pace myself. I’m going to be careful who I hang around, who fills my day. But I’m going to make most of it filled with my characters from the books. I’ve been missing them.
And unlike real life, I can have as many lovers in my fantasy life as I choose. I guess what I found, after all this wandering is not my brain, but my heart. Writing stories is the most enjoyable activity in my life. That’s the dog I’m feeding.
What do you think? I’d really love to hear it…(kiss, kiss).
Source: Sharon’s Blog
I put everything on hold yesterday and attended a soap and lotion making class held through The Goat Farm. OMG I had so much fun. Was like a play day with several lady friends. My hairdresser told me about The Goat Farm, and I intended to schedule a meet and greet sometime soon with Mindy and her husband, who own the farm. Then I discovered she was having two classes on making soap and making salves and lotions – I got in and Ta Da! Another new world has opened up for me.
You already know I do paper collage. And I love to quilt. I have been an organic gardener for over 40 years now, and I have a big local family, a business to run, helping with the family business occasionally (my former career in Real Estate), and on and on and on. I’d always thought I would make a wonderful grandmother, staying home to knit, sew things, make collage art, decorate the house, make candles and soap, write romances and garden.
Well, my life is sort of like this. Today, I will be taking my expecting daughter on a little mother-daughter shopping. Her baby is due in October, and her shower is next week. Then I spend a week partially in Las Vegas for some real estate things, and then off to Ottawa for Romancing the Capital, Eve Langlois’s wonderful event, where I hope to see some great dedicated readers I’ve never met in person before…
So this week is about finishing, getting my instructions ready for the garden watering so that doesn’t turn into an epic fail, making sure everything I need to get done gets done this week. And so why not take a soap-making class? Meet some new friends and indulge myself in scents and beautiful soap and lotion art?
My long term plans are sort of turning out. The part that isn’t is I forgot to meditate and dream/look forward to the deadlines in my life. The trick, for me, is to float through life, doing all these things, and make it look artsy, effortless and soul-affirming, while making sure I keep to my commitments to others. After all, I am not independently wealthy. I didn’t marry Prince Charming who has a trust fund and unlimited resources. And I’m the primary bread-winner in our family. So I can’t piddle and dawdle too long. But I have to trick my brain into thinking I am living the life of ease and luxury, the life and soul-affirming things of my every day, so that the stress doesn’t get in the way of me actually doing anything.
I have several partnerships. First, and foremost, I partner with myself. Am I getting healthier as I age? Am I doing what things I want to do while I can do them? Am I managing my finances and my time in such a way that there is more life at the end of the month instead of more stress? Do I live in a house of my design, a place where I enjoy being and where I can feel my soul growing? Or, does it limit me? And is the cost (time/emotional energy) worth the result?
I partner with my husband. Not everything is perfect all the time. After some 46 years of marriage, we’ve done a pretty good job of balancing the urgent and the necessary, with the folly, leaving time for creative endeavors and explorations. I think we do best at the explorations. For me, that’s travel. Part of being a good partner is learning and telling the truth on what we can and are willing to bring to the table. I’m no Cinderella either. But partnerships don’t do very well under stress or chaos, and a lot of our time is spent making sure these things happen only on a limited basis. Gardening, traveling, going on soap-binges or shopping (in moderation) helps with this, too.
I partner with my other family members. I am nearly the oldest woman member of my little tribe. That comes with it some responsibilities to pass on what I’ve learned in a way that doesn’t make my family feel like I’ve hit them between the eyes. I want to give them memories they can laugh about when I’m gone. And yes, I admit, I’d like there to be a big hole when I leave. I’d like to be missed.
Partnerships with others in my real estate or writing community, in other endeavors I’m involved with requires telling the truth and learning who and what I can trust. I have some partners I’d love to listen to but would never count on in a crisis. I have others who I can count on for different things, but not for all things. I sort and pick, and yes, occasionally dead-head my friends and associates. No sense trying to make or keep a friend who is drifting, or not wanting to reciprocate, or for whom I have to do all the heavy lifting. As I get older, I’ve been better and better about discerning those things. And I’ve made some major screw-ups along the way being too trusting. But the lessons have been massive, and the circumstances have taught me a lot about myself. Just like raising children, being long-term married, growing a garden or starting a successful business — failure is part of the story.
I guess I could sum up my life as a patchwork of things, some found, some discovered, some worked for, some gifted and some lost, or lost and re-found. It is a blend of highs and lows, colors and blandness, determination and creativity, art and science and a little magic thrown in along the way.
I guess these are all life skills I’ll need some day when I take my next great adventure into the unknown. I take that hole that hopefully will be made here and bring that value to wherever else I’m going. And then give it all away again.
Because, in the end, all of it is a series of giving everything away, in various stages of our lives. It’s not about receiving all day long. For me, it’s about watching how my gifts change the world around me. My gardens. My books. My loves. My family. My quilts. My spaces.
What about you?
Source: Sharon’s Blog
If you hadn’t met me, you’d think I was seriously mixed up. Well, maybe I am. Here I like flowers and gardening, romance and all that goes with it. Expensive lingerie and kids and family and kisses. Going barefoot at the beach, and Happily Ever After.
But I also love my men to be men. Having a man’s man around makes it easier to be a woman, I mean a real woman. That is different things to different people. But I find a man who respects women, who honors our country and protects me and my freedoms, is worthy of my undying love and loyalty. It is something bred into my DNA. I can’t speak for all women, but this is what it is for me.
So when I read about this real hero, believe it or not, it makes me want to sit down and write romance. I can’t explain it, but it brings out all the romance in my body and soul. I’m sure there is some biological chemical reaction to this, which is way beyond me, and not important for me to understand fully. It is what it is.
I’d like to share this interview with the folks at Black Rifle Coffee Company. I am a coffee club member, and I get these shipments regularly, and I have since stopped buying anything from those big box places. This company is owned and operated by Veterans, who help other veterans. And it’s darned good coffee too. I love their attitude, their very non-PC approach to freedom, living a life full-out, and being men among men and the women who are lucky enough to love them. It’s a family and kith not everyone can understand.
So hope you’ll read this newsletter, and perhaps subscribe yourself. And with your first cup of Joe, you let me know which blend is your favorite. I haven’t tried Berzerker Blend, but I’ll be ordering it today.
My favorite so far is Black Beard’s Delight, with the flag logo of Edward Teach, the most notorious pirate of the Caribbean. I got the patch, the hat and the thermos to go along with it.
Enjoy and I hope I’ve expanded your world today.
Here’s an excerpt from their blog and the link to read more:
Source: Sharon’s Blog
Oh yes, you think I’m joking? I did it this morning. Last night I needed something very light to wear because it was still near 100 degrees at bed time. So, I wore one of my black long lacy nighties worthy of any erotic Halloween. As I do these days, I get up and water my garden in whatever I’ve been wearing to bed. So, today I vamped in my black nightgown. I deadheaded like any good witch, picked replacement roses that had wilted last night beside my bed in the heat, checked my cucumbers and melons, pulled some bolted lettuce, clipped my coriopsis and daisies, and added extra sprinkler timers to the flower bed and part of the lawn that doesn’t catch water yet.
We have no neighbors so I can do this. My gown was muddy and wet, but refreshingly stuck to my body in cold ribbons in the hot breeze. Yes, I started about 6:30 AM and didn’t finish until nearly 10.
The story I’m finishing is a novella, and I’m in love with this couple. Yes, I know, I do say this every time, but I am in love with Trace and Gretchen, both second time arounders. Trace has just transferred to Kyle’s Team 3 from an east coast team, like Cooper did in the early books. Gretchen is Kate’s sister (of Kate and Tyler in SEAL Of My Heart that was just on a Book Bub special), Book 7 of the SEAL Brotherhood Series. She was married to a professional basketball player until he outed his womanizing on one of the tabloid TV shows and the marriage was over. So, Gretchen has some baggage, but nothing Trace can’t work out.
Many of you will remember that Tyler’s sister, Linda Gray, is a romance novelist, in her thirties, and Tyler modeled for the cover of her book. Linda has never married, but she’s one outrageous character. Like me, she wears red all the time and lives a life in her books she never gets to have in real life. So she and Gretchen are becoming acquainted and best friends. While they both go after Trace, from two different corners.
This is an unedited chapter I hope you’ll enjoy. This novella will be part of Tropical Tryst, an anthology of works from 25 of your favorite authors, releasing August l, and available for preorder now.
Enjoy the story. I plan on doing a full length book with this couple next year.
The scene takes place as Gretchen is getting situated in the room she’s sharing with Linda, in an old plantation-style Hawaiian home built in the 1800’s. It is up in the hills, with views of several of the Hawaiian islands and the beach and ocean several miles away. Linda thinks she going to use this as the location for her next novel, about a Hawaiian girl of royal lineage who falls in love with a Navy SEAL.
So, here’s a chapter (unedited) from SEAL My Love:
Source: Sharon’s Blog
Thank you, readers, for my great launch week for Jake2. I truly appreciate your feedback and support! Loved writing this book!
Sometimes you get into a story, and it becomes deeper than you’d planned, or you get caught up in a secondary character who makes his/her appearance on stage and completely takes over the storyline for a time.
With Band of Bachelors: Jake, I had one of those occurrences. I loved writing about this dysfunctional family and all their problems. Jake, based on a real SEAL I knew briefly, had fathered four children with three different women, not because he was a bad person, but because he couldn’t say no, and wasn’t careful. It didn’t matter to him if sex brought him more children because he loved his children.
I know there are “norms” and I get hit with occasional comments from the Reader Police, informing me about how I’ve bended or broken the rules. In the words of one of my delightful writer friends, “You don’t have to worry about breaking the rules, just understand the rules you are breaking.” She breaks them all the time, and so do I. I think that gives variety and spice to the romance genre, and we also get to try out things that perhaps we wouldn’t have been able to if we all subscribed to the same lock-step rules.
So my guy is one of those who doesn’t pay attention to the seed he spawns. Okay. That still doesn’t disqualify him as a hero, because he makes good on his intentions – just learns the lesson later than most. And that happens in real life, right?
So, at the end of Band of Bachelors: Jake, I already knew there had to be a Book 2. I also am aiming more toward things that could be made into TV or movie pilots, and, from talking to screenwriters and others who produce TV pilots, they usually want the same character in each episode, not different couples, like I have in the beginning of my SEAL Brotherhood Series. So, I’ve been testing how I could do this, and have done it now three times: with Jameson in Nashville SEALs, Fredo in Fredo’s Dream, and now with Jake2.
As a writer, I try to look for new projects for me, experiments that tickle my fancy (maybe some other things too, but I won’t mention them!) and keep the creative part, well, creative! In Paradise, I wrote that book in first person. In SEAL Of Time, I created a paranormal Navy SEAL, son of Poseidon, who is an immortal healer.
As a reader, you like that, right? I know as a reader of some of my favorite authors, I sure do. I love seeing new things my favorite authors can accomplish. It’s like opening a new chapter on a familiar book, and discovering something you hadn’t read before. Thanks for taking the journey with me!
Source: Sharon’s Blog
Happy Birthday America! Today we remember those who went before us. I wrote a whole post on my visit to Valley Forge last year, and how moving it was for me. I loved it so much, we’re planning on a military salute at the same location next August, and would love you to join us.
There are some times recently when I’ve forgotten how hard it was for those early freedom fighters, and the men who commanded them. Most of these men did not fare well during the Battle for Independence. But they fought for the cause of freedom. Not many of them knew this was going to be the case, but they fought and died so we could have what we have today.
It is an awesome choice we have these days: honor our tradition of fierce independence, or ignore it, scrap it all and let someone else figure it out. It is frustrating to know what is the right way to do it. How about we just agree to let them get it done and stay out of the way. We show up, we vote, and then let’s have faith that our system will survive, even if, at the time, we may or may not like what’s going on?
I looked at those photographs, the film that chronicled the fact that so many men died just from lack of food, or shoes. It was a cold winter that year at Valley Forge, and perhaps it would have been easier to give up. But they didn’t.
We’d do well to remember that.
Here’s my blog about Valley Forge from last year here.
And if you’d like to join us, here’s all the information on the Salute With Love military author signing – for readers and authors alive. Help us spread the word.
And celebrate your independence, your freedom, by living the best life you can live, standing for the highest principles we can, and including everyone in our tent, but excluding those who would do us harm. And I hope you join with me in honoring those who fought so that we could have a more perfect union. I celebrate us all.
Happy Independence Day!
Source: Sharon’s Blog
There are lots of things that satisfy me about gardening. Here are some of my favorites.
Preparing the Soil:
Yesterday afternoon we were weeding the garden. I’ve planted carrots, Swiss chard, Chinese cabbage and lettuce in long rows, along with onions and potatoes. Every year for nearly twenty years I’d get a 10-yard dump truck load of mushroom manure from the Mushroom Farm in Petaluma. In case you don’t know how much that is, it’s a pile that would nearly touch the second story of a house! I’d work this into the dark clay soil one wheelbarrow at a time (and yes, my arms got sore). I usually got a sunburn on that day, and for a week afterwards, the whole yard smelled like a manure pile.
To me, it smelled like Heaven! Really! So, last night, as I was pulling these weeds, they came out so clean, the soil was so balanced and lovely, with just the right amount of moistness and nutrients, it was pure pleasure. My remaining little plants are standing straight and tall this morning. A great garden takes years in the making, because it has to start with wonderful soil.
I’ve hired gardeners to help with some of the heavy labor, and help set up irrigation systems, something I’ve not taken the time to learn. Some day. All of them remark how they’d like to put in this system and that, to help with the watering. And they’d look at me strange when I’d tell them, “But I like the two hours a day it takes to water.”
I really do. I look over the leaves as the wand spreads the wet goodness and washes away the dirt and grit, I watch as it sinks into the soil. I snip the heads off flowers while I water (I wear an apron with clippers, a small shovel, mosquito repellant, some assorted seeds for in-filling, a couple plastic plant identifiers and a permanent marker, along with some string). I replant seeds that didn’t come up, or replace a plant that won’t grow properly with a new seed, or bury the seeds I’m dead-heading back into the soil to create volunteers. It’s the tending it takes to notice, adjust and gently coax and guide my garden into a thing of beauty.
And it very much is like writing a book.
Small shoots of cabbage and lettuces are plucked for salads. Othertimes I just thin the plants so that the ones remaining have room to grow. When your fingers work the soil so carefully and closely, you see things you would miss otherwise. Last night I discovered one of my baby praying mantis bugs. I put a larvae of them on each of two rose bushes in my garden out back. Each is supposed to harvest about 500 little mantis, who are voracious eaters of aphids and other non-beneficial bugs. Since he was crawling over the little pile of weeds, I carefully cupped my hands around his little 1/2″ body and placed him back in the roses where he could find the best food. Unless I’d been on my knees doing this job, I’d have missed getting introduced to him!
Every year my garden takes on a new personality, like the books I write. Working on my hands and knees, or watching from above carefully, helps me get to know the garden that wants to reveal itself to me. Yes, I don’t grow the garden. The garden grows all by itself. I just place the order of things, set the stage for the play they create all their own. It is a very magical experience for me. It’s like discovering characters that fall in love, or experience hurt or happiness in my books.
Taking the Bounty:
Harvesting comes along with the changing of the seasons. Like in the Bible, the time to sow and time to harvest. When I remove something, I can replant, or put something else in its place. Or, I can let the ground rest. Like one of my favorite signs over my desk states, “My garden isn’t dead. It’s sleeping.” Letting a garden rest is a good thing.
Eating the first fruits of my labor is always a joy. I’ve now had my first sunflower. My first handful of sugar peas, flat French beans and we’ve juiced lots of baby Chinese cabbage and bok choi plants as we’ve thinned the mounds. I’ve had a half dozen cherry tomatoes already and am on my second cycle of lettuce. We had enough small patty pan squash for dinner last night too.
And that reminds me, time to get the refrigerator cleaned out, because I’m about to become inundated with good, healthy food!
As you see, I could go on and on. There is one mindset for a flower garden. Another for a food garden. And I like to mix them together as well. I think lettuce grows well at the base of a trellis of sweet pea blossoms. Calendulas help with the moths that bring aphids and also discourage gophers. The garden changes every day, and each day it emotes different emotions as I tend, watch and enjoy seeing it transform before my eyes.
It is truly a living work of art. Hopelessly addicted. In love forever.
Source: Sharon’s Blog
My father is gone, and every Father’s Day I get over to his grave to leave some roses from my garden, and at Christmas I like to bring him drumsticks so he can keep playing. Dad was an engineer, and looked about as wrong as wrong could be as a drummer, with his hair fringe, and jerky motions, and the fact that he had to bite his lip and frown because he concentrated so hard on keeping up with the beat. Like everything he did, even making music was hard work. But he loved hard work. Always did and I’m sure he’s working hard now.
What I learned from my father was how to survive. He was a very smart man. He did very well in school, but his childhood was marred by the fact that his own father suffered severely in World War I in battles in France, and basically came home mentally broken and eventually was sent to a state hospital until he could fight his way out. He never talked about his Dad’s trials, or the fact that he had to get up at one or two in the morning to sing hymns or those Tennessee Ernie Ford songs, and that his mother got up and played piano for him. It was just a fact of life.
His father wore pajamas all day long after he came home, and wore an apron, was the chief housekeeper and cook for the family, and Dad had many tales about those days. He’d come home, throw his books in the corner, and not return until dinner, then after dinner he studied into the night. It was his way of dealing with the unknowns of living with a parent who was mentally ill for most of his life, in an environment where he didn’t feel safe.
But Dad was never bitter. He loved his Dad. And as I was the oldest granddaughter, I loved him as well. Quirks, crying jags, days in the bedroom with the shades drawn and the arguments at the dinner table or the early morning songs my brother and I heard when we stayed there for a week at summer time, all seemed part of life. We took it just like my Dad did.
We were opposites in personality style. He would prepare and take copious notes. He hated to not know everything and so spent hours and hours researching thing. He once took apart our television set just because he wanted to see how it was made. He went to the dentist one time without novacaine so he could experience what that felt like. He was the perfect grandfather for my kids, even sliding down brown hills on our property on a cardboard refrigerator carton with the kids, and hitting a tree. He had to go to work the next day with a black eye. His commitment to the family was 100%.
As my mother was getting weaker from the ravages of cancer, he cut a fresh rose for her every day and brought it into her room. He took it as his job to take care of her those last 14 years of her life, and when she passed over, he was left without a job in life. Though my mother had gone, he was not ready to stop being a husband. So, at 80, my dad remarried, something none of us ever thought would happen and lived another ten years. I credit some of this to my new mom, Eunice, whom he loved with everything in his being, another testament, and another lesson to us all.
But the funniest thing I remember about Dad was a conversation we had at one of my son’s soccer tournaments in Davis. He’d gotten married the previous year. My mother had been buried in a plot in the lawn of our local Memorial Park. He’d bought the plot next to her, but now that he was married again, his priorities had changed.
He asked my permission to have my mother moved to the mausoleum, where he had a spot next to her, but the two of them would rest beneath his current new wife and her deceased husband. “Sharon, when I die, I’d like to be buried next to both my wives.”
I thought about it for a minute or two and then answered him this way, “I’m okay with it, Dad. But let me ask you this. Are you planning on getting married a third time?”
Forgive the use of some of these promo pictures, but they are some of my favorite father/daughter images and I thought you wouldn’t mind.
Happy Fathers’ Day. Hope you spoil him, or spoil him in your dreams.
Source: Sharon’s Blog
I have been funding part of this movie through Kickstarter. It is a project I believe very strongly in. If you want to read or listen to a very compelling story, listen to the audio book (which I recommend): Code Name Johnny Walker. It’s about the Iraqi interpreter who saved so many SEAL’s lives and a man whose hand I’d like to shake some day and say thank you. He was legendary for not only his dedication to the troops, the SEALs, but served at great cost to his own family. He now lives in the San Diego area, I believe.
Here’s a further update on this movie, and they have just cast the lead role, announcing it today. I’m thrilled.
Tell all your friends about this wonderful project and let’s all go and support it when it comes out next year. A true story that goes across religions, countries, loyalties, talks about love and family. This man loved his country and worked hard to save it. I know some day he’d like to go back and finish the job. But right now, we are lucky enough just to have been able to rescue him and hopefully keep him safe.
In my books, the interpreter is named Jackie Daniels. He appears in SEAL My Home and SEAL My Destiny, and again in True Navy Blue: Zak. All of these books are on audio.
One of the things I was most touched by was what he did on his first week back in the States. He went to McDonald’s and bought his kids hamburgers and milkshakes, using real US money. And on Sundays, he likes to go to flea markets just to see what Americans discard. I’m sure when he walks up and down the stalls, those people have no idea what a giant of a man he is and was.
Source: Sharon’s Blog
It does feel good to spend time as a writer in the company of readers. It’s lush and feels wonderful! One of the best things about being a writer is to know that we are an important part of avid reader’s lives. It is an honor, and it also comes with it a bit of a burden, to continue to deliver content and new story lines. I’m up for the challenge!
There are lots of things we do to become visible, and I’ve lined out some of my concerns in my post of last Sunday here. As you know, I have some things about this whole field that trouble me greatly. But, it is the platform we have, it is the platform that has given me the ability to sell my books in the open market.
My own future direction is to stay in the vein of interest for readers, and not to artificially create it, which some forms of advertising and promotion feel like. Certain types of “fandom” experiences feel that way too. Yet, we want fans. How do we know when we’ve crossed the line?
I guess the readers get to choose. My attending events like this, I get to become a “person” they know, not just read. That’s important. I want to be generous with my readers, but I understand I won’t win them all. But they are my life blood.
I’ve seen first-hand how the ebb and flow of popularity can change in a year, in a few months, even in a week. The bottom line? Be ready for the long haul, and don’t get attached to any temporary setback. The long haul means basking in the glow of success, as well as plodding through the mud when we get discouraged. Most readers don’t understand how writers sometimes get discouraged.
I have a great life and a great family I don’t get a lot of time to be with. That has concerned be a bit this year. So, I may be cutting back on my travels and appearances. I’m going to choose wisely the reader events where I get good one-on-one interaction, not just ones where I party or get drunk with readers. That’s not me. My breakfast this morning, as a wrap-up to Lori Foster’s event, is just perfect: with either other wonderful ladies, where we got to talk about Navy SEALs, and hopefully answer their questions about me, my books and how I write. I love talking about my experiences. I also love it when family members bring new readers or members of their family along. Those readers I will do almost anything for.
So, you may not see me at the really big conventions. Not at the crazy conventions, or the ones where they specialize in over-the-top behavior. I’m a product of my generation, and a lady, even though I do write spicy books. Am I a non-fiction writer where I give 100% accurate portrayal of what being a Navy SEAL is really like? Heck no. I’m a novelist. I take stories and situations and make them into things I would like to read. I embellish! Some are based on true events, but most of them are my active imagination! And I think that’s what’s wanted and needed.
So, I go home to California tonight, thinking about getting into the next book to finish, spend time in my garden (some rescue will no doubt be needed, but not making anyone wrong for that), and some personal reflection time on what I want to do going forward. I know that I have some things I can assist my family in financially, and will be cutting away at other things so I can be a better contributor. It no longer is okay for me not to be available, or be traveling so much. Life is short and the grands grow up, and I want to be a part of all that.
So, it’s balance I’m seeking. I have a good life. I’m taking care of my health. I’m blessed with a wonderful family and have been very successful in all the businesses we’ve had. Part of doing something for me is not only being a romance writer, but being a better wife, mother and grandmother, and perhaps have some time for friendships. I’ve neglected some of these in the past, and that’s something I’m going to focus on most of all.
It’s always good every once in awhile to get off the treadmill and make sure that my goals and dreams are all aligned with what the rest of the family wants and needs. And then, of course, I can add that extra bit of sparkle and fantasy. My rose colored glasses are still firmly in place. But those glasses have given me far more in real life results than a magnifying glass ever could. It’s a balance of both worlds.
And I hope you’ll continue to join me there.
Source: Sharon’s Blog