I started off February on a roll. In 2 weeks, I wrote over 12,000 words. Then, I broke my foot. The obvious question is how? I stepped wrong, I guess. You would think since I have to be off my foot I'd be writing up a storm. Hah! I wrote 600 words since then. So, I need to get my mojo back. Hopefully, next month I can say I finished the darn book.
Glad you stopped by. I hope you'll stop by again for Monday Morning Musings, Meet the Author Thursday, Weekend Writing Warriors, and guests whenever they drop in.
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
#IWSG: March - Traditions
Happy Insecure Writers Support Group Day. IWSG is the brainchild of Ninja Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh.
Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds! Thanks, Alex, for starting this group and keeping it going. We are rockin' the neurotic writing world!
A huge thank you to the awesome co-hosts for this month: Jacqui Murray, Lisa Buie-Collard, Sarah Foster, Natalie Aguirre, and Shannon Lawrence!
This month's optional question: Other than the obvious holiday traditions, have you ever included any personal or family traditions/customs in your stories?
Christmas is a time of many traditions—old and new, especially when new members are added to the family. Our daughter combined our traditions with her husband’s, same with our son. One thing hasn’t changed is the Christmas tree.
In my book, Romance Rekindled, I used what is our holiday tradition in this excerpt where Sam sees Flo’s (Abby’s mother) house. Bethany is Abby’s daughter. Sam is George’s son.
Sam had only been in this house once, shortly after he arrived in west Michigan. The living room was tastefully decorated for the holidays. The tree in front of the window had to be ten feet tall. With its twelve-foot ceiling, the room would have dwarfed a smaller tree. Intrigued by what looked like a mishmash of ornaments, he walked closer to examine them.
“I made that decoration when I was in kindergarten.” Bethany had come up behind him and pointed to what looked like a butterfly made of wallpaper and a hairclip. “Mom made that one in preschool. And Gram made this one in grade school.”
The last two ornaments, a Shrinky Dink star—Sam remembered making those—and a pinecone with glued glitter were amateurish and charming. Nadine would’ve disdained them, opting for matching ornaments, ribbons, and lights. Not this record of children’s growth. His mother would have approved, though.
“Mom and I helped Gram decorate. She won’t let Gram get up on a ladder.”
“Good thing,” George said. He, too, had come over to admire the tree. “Can’t have my sweetie falling.”
“Oh, you.” Flo swiped her hand against his arm in a playful, yet intimate, gesture. “I love my tree. So many wonderful memories.”
That’s how I feel about our tree—so many memories. As our kids married, I passed many of their handmade ornaments to them for their trees.
Abby Ten Eyck likes her life the way it is. She runs a successful business, has a well-adjusted teenage daughter, and has managed to keep men at bay since her divorce fifteen years ago. Just before Christmas, she’s hit with change. Her mother decides to sell the family home. Then she’s arrested, with an unknown man. Could this new man in her mother’s life create more upheaval? Or could his handsome son be just what Abby needs to revive her dormant feelings?
Sam Watson embraces the transition from frenetic Wall Street to a small Michigan resort town. His health is worth moving close to his dad who seems over the moon in love. But it’s the daughter of his father’s girlfriend who fascinates him. Abby Ten Eyck reminds him of his driven self. He must help her slow down before she burns out. Like he did.
Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. For more info and excerpts from her books, visit Diane’s website: http://www.dianeburton.com