I'm heading for southern California tomorrow, and looking forward to the warmth. On Wednesday, the 28th, I'll be signing books at Romance World in El Cajon, 619-588-5494, between four and six pm. If you live in the area, stop in and we'll swap howdies.
On Thursday, March 1, I'll be signing books at the Village Fest Street Fair, in downtown Palm Springs, from 6:30pm to ?? I plan to do some serious shopping at that event--I love street fairs.
I plan to take my laptop and will blog if I can, but I usually have trouble hooking into the hotel's system, techno-phobe that I am. I promise to do my best!
Monday, February 26, 2007
Friday, February 23, 2007
Cleo May Be on Her Way Out
I've discovered something a lot more fun than playing slot machines--beading. I'm passionate about it! I've already made three bracelets, and I'm plotting to hit all the bead stores in every city I visit. (Debbie Macomber, a master knitter, does this with yarn shops.)
It's so much fun to look at all the beautiful beads and there are infinite combinations, too.
Well, you know what I'll be doing this weekend. NOT playing Cleo's dastardly game.
It's so much fun to look at all the beautiful beads and there are infinite combinations, too.
Well, you know what I'll be doing this weekend. NOT playing Cleo's dastardly game.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
All the News That's Fit to Blog
"McKettrick's Luck" is still hanging in there on the bestseller lists--holding at #8 on the New York Times and selling strongly. With all this excitement, it's hard to settle down and work on the project at hand. Especially when people are digging wells and using nail guns and a variety of other construction type things. Bernicie is not a fan of construction, and neither am I, so we'll be retreating soon, with Sadie-bean, to the lake house. (Trust me, it is hard to write with a panicked Yorkie clinging to your shoulder with tiny front paws!)
Lest you think I'm complaining, I hasten to say that I'm NOT. A beautiful new barn will come out of all this, and the horses will be able to come home. The floors will be beautiful and Yorkie proof.
It's hectic, but it's certainly worth it.
And the book will get written--they always do.
Lest you think I'm complaining, I hasten to say that I'm NOT. A beautiful new barn will come out of all this, and the horses will be able to come home. The floors will be beautiful and Yorkie proof.
It's hectic, but it's certainly worth it.
And the book will get written--they always do.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Life is What Happens...
When you're trying to: write a book, renovate your house, build a barn. You fill in the blanks.
Yesterday, I didn't even get to this blog, because I was in a meeting for most of the day. We accomplished a lot, but STILL. You don't know how REALLY glad I am that meetings are not a regular part of my day.
Since the barn-building and the renovations are only going to get MORE hectic, Sadie, Bernice and I will be moving to the lake house soon. The kitties will be happier staying right here; they do not like road trips.
On a career front, "McKettrick's Luck" is doing amazingly well, and excitement is building because it soon "McKettrick's Pride" will be available, too. February 27 is the big day.
That's what's happening in the world of Linda Lael Miller. It's all good.
If I just remember to breathe....
Yesterday, I didn't even get to this blog, because I was in a meeting for most of the day. We accomplished a lot, but STILL. You don't know how REALLY glad I am that meetings are not a regular part of my day.
Since the barn-building and the renovations are only going to get MORE hectic, Sadie, Bernice and I will be moving to the lake house soon. The kitties will be happier staying right here; they do not like road trips.
On a career front, "McKettrick's Luck" is doing amazingly well, and excitement is building because it soon "McKettrick's Pride" will be available, too. February 27 is the big day.
That's what's happening in the world of Linda Lael Miller. It's all good.
If I just remember to breathe....
Monday, February 19, 2007
My Secret Love Affair
For some time now, I have been carrying on an affair--with Abraham Lincoln. I guess it's a good thing more than a century separates us, not that I think Mr. Lincoln would stoop to cheating on his beloved Mary. Despite her spending habits and the probability that she needed major doses of Lithium, he adored her. He understood commitment in a way the rest of us would do well to emulate.
Oh, well. It's an affair of the intellect, anyway.
There are a lot of misconceptions about Mr. Lincoln--these things always spring up around an icon. For instance, it is widely believed that he had a morose personality, and was constantly depressed. Early in his adulthood, he suffered a very severe depression--I believe he was coming to terms with his enormous destiny, for which nothing in his childhood could have prepared him. Later on, the Lincolns lost two children--first, Eddie, who died when they were still living in Springfield, and then Willie, while they were in the White House. The grief of losing these children etched itself deeply into Lincoln's face and, I believe, his soul. Poor Mary was never quite the same. The Civil War began immediately after he took office, if not slightly before, and the toll this took on him was beyond most people's ability to conceive. He was accused, with some justification, of moving too slowly, especially when it came to tasks like firing that egotistical incompetent, General McClellan. (My family got a big kick out of my consternation over this as I listened to 'Lincoln' on my iPod. "Why doesn't he show that fool the road?" I would rave, waving both arms in frustration, and it did them no good to remind me that history had already written the story.)
No, Lincoln was not a terminal depressive. When he smiled, it would light up a room. He loved stupid jokes--today, he would probably be insufferable for forwarding them over the internet. When he laughed, the sound rang off the walls, and he laughed often.
As for the ignorant backwoodsman gambit--that was the 1860s version of spin. Lincoln was fiercely ambitious. He was a master political strategist. He was brilliant, and possessed of a literary eloquence that is miraculous in light of his limited education--three years, slap-dash. He came to most decisions very slowly, much to the agitation of his friends and advisors, because he thought things through down to the last seemingly insignificant detail.
But these are only some of the reasons I admire Abraham Lincoln. The primary ones are courage, persistence and compassion in the face of incomrehensible adversity, and the extraordinary discipline it must have taken to decide upon the right course of action and see it through--no matter what. He was unpopular. The war was unpopular. Everybody, including his own cabinet, thought they knew how to handle things better.
Thank God they didn't get to take the reins.
Oh, well. It's an affair of the intellect, anyway.
There are a lot of misconceptions about Mr. Lincoln--these things always spring up around an icon. For instance, it is widely believed that he had a morose personality, and was constantly depressed. Early in his adulthood, he suffered a very severe depression--I believe he was coming to terms with his enormous destiny, for which nothing in his childhood could have prepared him. Later on, the Lincolns lost two children--first, Eddie, who died when they were still living in Springfield, and then Willie, while they were in the White House. The grief of losing these children etched itself deeply into Lincoln's face and, I believe, his soul. Poor Mary was never quite the same. The Civil War began immediately after he took office, if not slightly before, and the toll this took on him was beyond most people's ability to conceive. He was accused, with some justification, of moving too slowly, especially when it came to tasks like firing that egotistical incompetent, General McClellan. (My family got a big kick out of my consternation over this as I listened to 'Lincoln' on my iPod. "Why doesn't he show that fool the road?" I would rave, waving both arms in frustration, and it did them no good to remind me that history had already written the story.)
No, Lincoln was not a terminal depressive. When he smiled, it would light up a room. He loved stupid jokes--today, he would probably be insufferable for forwarding them over the internet. When he laughed, the sound rang off the walls, and he laughed often.
As for the ignorant backwoodsman gambit--that was the 1860s version of spin. Lincoln was fiercely ambitious. He was a master political strategist. He was brilliant, and possessed of a literary eloquence that is miraculous in light of his limited education--three years, slap-dash. He came to most decisions very slowly, much to the agitation of his friends and advisors, because he thought things through down to the last seemingly insignificant detail.
But these are only some of the reasons I admire Abraham Lincoln. The primary ones are courage, persistence and compassion in the face of incomrehensible adversity, and the extraordinary discipline it must have taken to decide upon the right course of action and see it through--no matter what. He was unpopular. The war was unpopular. Everybody, including his own cabinet, thought they knew how to handle things better.
Thank God they didn't get to take the reins.
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