Happy Friday, Liz, I could not let this great story go unshared. I am so glad you found time to return and share with us.

First off, thanks to Mary for inviting me back again to this great blog to hang out today. I’m talking about something we see in a lot of movies and books.

Most romance writers know that TSTL means a hero/heroine that is “Too Stupid To Live.” (Think about the stupid people in the Scream movies who go outside at midnight or down to the basement when they hear a noise, knowing there is a killer on the loose. I was surprised to find out it is not a common acronym with other genre writers, especially those who don’t belong to RWA (Romance Writers of America).

I decided that would make a great topic, so I’ll start with a story TCTH (too close to home). A few years ago, I was on a Caribbean cruise with my hubby, son and daughter-in-law. We had signed up for the excursions at the beginning of the week for each of the ports, and I was looking forward to them, especially the cave-exploring one in Belize. That was before clumsy me broke her baby toe and couldn’t go since it involved a lot of walking over rough terrain. So, I sent them on their way that day and decided to go ashore and check out the shopping.

The ship anchored out at sea, and we had to be shuttled to shore in smaller boats. There were two, long, storage-shed-looking units surrounded by a chain-link fence. In a matter of a few minutes, I had walked through both of them and was unimpressed. Being the shopper that I am, I wanted more. So, I walked to the edge of the fence where a policeman sat at the gate and many Belizean vendors (??) called out to me. I almost paid a guy $20 for a tour of the city in his limo, by myself, I might add. And then I decided I should stay close and shop since my toe had started to hurt.

I stepped outside the security of the gate and asked where I could find a souvenir shop. One young man appeared by my side and pointed to a little store about two hundred yards away. I headed that way with him right behind me, joined by a second young man. For some reason, I didn’t hear the Jaws music in my head (Da dump! Da dump!) I was hell bent on spending money since I had missed out on the excursion.

The little shop was a bust, and as I walked out the door, one of the boys said there was a really great shop in the alley. By now, I could hear the little voices in my head shouting “Get out of the water. Can’t you hear the music??” Suddenly frightened, I turned toward the cop and the safety of the fence and headed that way. One of the young men grabbed my arm and tried to persuade me to go to the alley with him. When I refused, he said he would be my bodyguard and not let bad things happen to me. Yeah, right! By this time, my smarter self had taken over my brain, and all I wanted to do was get back inside that fence. So, I handed each one ten dollars and made my way as fast as I could to the gate.

Back on the ship I was still shaking To this day, there is no doubt in my mind I would have been robbed or murdered or both. It was really a very stupid thing to do since we had been warned by the cruise staff to be careful.

So, for a few minutes, I became that heroine TSTL. Playing devil’s advocate here, I once heard Donald Maass say to think about what your character would absolutely not do and make him do it. But I don’t think he had stupidity in mind. I can’t tell you how many contest entries I’ve judged where I’ve had to take points off because of this. If you wouldn’t do it, why make your characters do it?

Oh wait, I forgot. I did do it! Does that make me stupid? Absolutely. For those brief minutes when I put myself in harm’s way, I was stupid. Fortunately, it only cost me twenty bucks. In today’s world we have to be on guard constantly for people who have no regard for our safety, especially in foreign countries.

But hold the phone. In those steps to the basement, or in my heroine’s case her walk under the bleachers, think about this. What if your heroine knew her child was down there and needed her? All of a sudden, not only is she not stupid, she’s a hero, igniting every maternal instinct in our bodies. Think about those TV shows where a man straps a bomb on his back because some terrorist has his family or where a bank manager robs his own bank, knowing his child will be killed if he doesn’t. Matter of fact, my sequel to my ghost story has a similar plot.

Moral of the story - it isn’t always black and white with the stupid thing. And you know what? I think that’s just what “The Donald” had in mind.

So, now I’m anxious to hear any stories you have about TV shows, your own writing, or your personal experiences where for a brief time, you transformed into someone TSTL. Two lucky commenters will receive a free download of MORTAL DECEPTION. Here’s the trailer from MD. Check out my website www.lizlipperman.com for information on how to download it. For the entire month of October, it will be offered at $.99 as a promo tool for LIVER LET DIE, my cozy that released last week.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q530quKsSqQ&noredirect=1

MORTAL DECEPTION

A mix of deceit and lies rocks the world of a dying child, an ex-cop on a mission to clear her dead husband's name and an anesthesiologist who desperately wants out of a loveless marriage. To save her nephew's life, the young widow seduces the doctor accused of murdering his wife. But even as she collects evidence that proves he's the killer, she can't stop her heart from falling for him. Until the game turns DEADLY...

Excerpt;

(I promise this was properly formatted. Blogger doesn't like me tonight.)

Before the night ended, she would be in bed with a total stranger.

Oh, God.

Taking a deep breath Dani Perez walked toward the hotel bar, her red stilettos clattering like a Riverdance audition on the black marble floor.

What the hell are you looking at? she wanted to scream when the desk clerk glanced up with a knowing smile. But she knew exactly why he was looking. The stupid dress damn-near showed the cheeks of her ass.

Dani smiled, thinking when she got home, she’d have to make a big deposit in Abby’s pickle jar decorated with commodes. Her daughter called her creation the “potty-mouth jar”. Since Christmas, Dani had to pay up every time she cursed. She and Abby were saving for their dream vacation, and at the rate she was going, Hawaii wasn’t an unrealistic destination. Hell, the F word alone was worth a whopping twenty bucks.

Dani wasn’t proud of the way she talked, but old habits die hard. Five years on the Cimarron Police Force riding with Jerry Spigoretti had added a variety of colorful words to her vocabulary. She’d thought when she left the job last year, she’d clean up her language, but working with Harry Fielding, another hard-nosed, ex-cop-turned-PI, hadn’t helped. On a good day, she was able to keep it under control.

Today wasn’t a good day.

She stopped in front of the door, a sudden rush of apprehension overwhelming her as she struggled to keep a falling ringlet of hair out of her eyes. Silently, she cursed her twin. Her usual ponytail would have been so much easier, but Nikki had insisted on pulling her unmanageable hair up and curling it around her face--said it was sexy. How freakin’ sexy would it be if she landed on her barely-covered tush because she couldn’t see?

The huge purse they’d picked out felt like it was full of rocks, but she needed one this size to hold the equipment she would use. She jerked it higher on her shoulder, glancing back to see if the clerk was still watching.

He was. She fought the urge to flip him off.

Breathe, chica. A lot is riding on tonight.

The minute she opened the door, her eyes widened, a reaction to the darkened room, lit only by the neon signs behind the bar and the candles on the ten or so tables strategically placed around the room. Even in this light, she could see the entire bar area, praying he’d be there, petrified he was. She’d counted on him being a creature of habit and doing the exact same thing he’d done every Thursday for the five weeks she’d tailed him.

Dr. Nathan Randall didn’t disappoint her. He was alone as usual, at the far end of the bar, mindlessly twirling a glass on the counter. The lump in her throat threatened to cut off her breathing while she watched him put down the drink and rub his forehead, probably unaware he did that often. She didn’t have to see his searing blue eyes to know they were squinted in deep thought, an image she’d captured on film many times.

She hated what she had to do to him.

Eyes finally adjusted to the dark, Dani chose a table far enough to be out of sight from where he sat but close enough for observation. She attempted to sit down gracefully without compromising her dignity in the skin tight dress, but it was a losing battle. She reached behind and tugged at the hem of the red jersey number as it rode up her thighs.

Oh, hell!

She was sure she had given everyone a peek all the way up her legs to the thong panties she was dying to pull out of her butt. She didn’t get the whole thong panties thing. Number one, they’d cost eight dollars on sale. Who pays eight dollars for panties that barely had enough material to qualify as a G-string?

And damn! Who wants to walk around with a constant wedgie?

She plopped the heavy purse on the floor and glanced up to see if anyone had seen her flash. Her eyes connected with a middle-aged man sitting at the corner of the bar, facing her. He lifted his glass and smiled.

Christ!

She lowered her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was call any more attention to herself before she was ready. And she needed a whole lot of courage to be ready.

Liquid courage.

Dani waited until the waitress approached before she looked up again, afraid the guy in the suit might consider any further eye contact an invitation. She’d prided herself on reading people, had actually avoided danger on the job because of that particular skill. Her radar said this guy definitely had the married-but-trolling-for-stray-action look all over his Midwestern face.

“What can I get you?” The flat tone in the waitress’s voice conveyed her disapproval.

Dani didn’t blame her. Hell, she’d disapprove of herself, too, in this outfit that screamed I come with a price.

“What’s the latest drinking rage these days?” she asked, knowing the Corona she craved wouldn’t go with her on-the-prowl persona.

Marcia, according to the nametag on her blouse, looked surprised by the question. “Depends on what you like.”

What does someone whose ass is hanging out of a dress usually drink?

Well, ladies, ask questions and make comments. Liz wants to give away free books!

I'm leaving the DH home with a well stocked refrigerator, fresh baked apple pie and instructions to feed the dogs and cat too, and taking off.

I’m so excited. It’s been over a year since I’ve attended a conference or workshop. This weekend is the New Jersey Romance Writers conference and I’ll be there. Even
though, my novel, EVIL’S WITNESS, is up for the notable award, 'Golden Leaf Best First Book' that is not why I’m excited. I can’t wait to be surrounded by other writers and learning more about the craft and industry which I love.

I’m sure you understand how being surround by like minds is no matter where your interest lay. When you’re with others who understand your passion, it’s like walking among the stars. I’m eager to meet face to face friends I’ve made online and to see those I haven’t seen in months or since the national conference in DC. I actually feel like a sponge ready to soak up knowledge in the workshops I already have highlighted on my schedule. I’m also a little nervous about taking an agent appointment, telling her about my new wip and hearing her thoughts on the romantic suspense genre in today’s tight market.

So today, I’ll be tweaking my pitch and getting my books and promo material ready for the book signing which is another reason for me to be excited. This will be my very first RWA conference signing.

God, it’s going to be a blast! If you’re in attendance, please say hi or join me in having a Midnight In Paris Martini.

If you have any conference tips, throw them at me. I'm so excited, I know I'll forget something.

I love attending writing conferences! Local chapter conferences tend to be smaller and more intimate than National ones. Moonlight & Magnolias, Georgia Romance Writers' conference usually has around 300 attendees and more than a dozen editors and agents, as well as big name authors. The energy level for workshops and other activities is wonderfully tiring and satisfying. We always meet in Atlanta, Georgia and have a blast.

RWA National is the once a year big bash for Romance Writers of America. This year there should be around 2,000 writers in attendance. (Can you say overwhelming?) This year we will meet in Orlando, Florida. The energy level there will keep us moving well past tired. There will be workshops and opportunities to socialize with people some of us see only once a year. We will be able to walk the halls with Nora Roberts, Janet Evanovich, and other wonderful authors.

I'll return in a few to add comments about DragonCon and more!.

Tell us about your favorite writing or fan conferences!

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What would you do if someone told you your story line didn’t work? None of the elements worked? It in fact, the plot sucked? Would you give up on writing the story, because after all, time is precious and you have so little now and you can’t afford to waste it? Would you give up?

This actually happened to me. I was told by someone in my early writing days that my idea would never sale. I was told this by someone whom I admired. The words hurt and I never forgot them even though I did forgive the person for being so harsh. I also let the story go for a number of years until I met another author at a conference who I hadn’t spoken to in a while. She was signing her books and doing very well. (Back-story: Muliti-pubbed author also had critique the first three chapters of that same book years ago. We we’re both pre-pubbed at the time) After our initial greeting and hugs, the first thing out of her mouth was, “Did you ever finish that book?” When I hung my head and said, “No.”, she asked, “Why not? I loved that story. I still remember the scene….”

I can’t tell you the feeling of JOY which welled up in me as I listened to her enthusiasm for my story. I hugged Multi-pubbed author again. YEARS later, she still remembered my story. That is the goal of every writer, at least of those I know. God, I love her.

From the moment I spoke to her, I started working on that book. The ideas flowed. The characters once again came to life, and I was HAPPY.
The moral of this blog is to tell you, don’t ever let any ONE person stop you from writing the book of your heart. Passions for books are so subjective. There are books on the NY Times list that I wonder how they got there. I’ve tossed books aside because they weren’t my time or the money I spent on them, and they are those I’ve read released from small publishers that have touched my heart and will remain on my keeper shelf.

Now, I’ll let you know. I finished my story. Its first pages went on to final in the Golden Acorn contest. It won the NJ Single title PUT YOUR HEART IN A BOOK contest, it was a 2009 Golden Heart Finalist and Evil’s Witness sold. ;>) GRIN.

EVIL'S WITNESS releases June 18, 2010. Please visit my website to view trailer and for more info. www.autumnjordon.com

Sometimes I get this feeling that if I don’t act now, right now, today, a knocking opportunity will be snagged up by someone and lost to me. In the past, this feeling has led me to jump before I was dressed for the part, or so to speak, especially as a writer new to the publishing world. The end result didn’t lead to good news.

As writers, connected by the world-wide net, this urge to jump can occur almost every day. Because of technology, our circle of friends is much larger than it was say ten years ago and hardly a day goes by without someone sharing great news; they final in a contest or won, they gained the interest of an agent or editor or they actually signed with an agent or sold their work. We feel happy for them but ( I don’t know how this possible) in the very same moment we feel that urge to push our unpolished baby out the door, knowing in our hearts it’s not ready.

There is truth in the old adage PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD or in FIRST IMPRESSIONS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT. Bad first impressions take years and a ton of work to undo. I learned my lesson quickly and now each time I hear someone's good fortune I congratulate them and take my baby for a walk, for only I know when it will be ready for the public's critical eye.

So I’m wondering today, have you felt this way? And if so what made you pull in the reins--if you want to share? And how do you know when your baby is ready to be shown off?

We’ve all heard the old adage, ‘When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. ‘ The saying is an optimist’s advice to a pessimist on navigating the hard times of life. But how much lemonade can one person make? Or drink?




If you’re going to keep it for yourself, I guess you’d get tired of the drink real fast. The smell of lemons would sicken you. The acid would burn your skin. Sweetness would be lost on your taste buds. But, if you’d plan to share the lemonade with your family or friends, you could make a little more, right? Others might be able help you put things into perspective. Maybe help tweak your recipe.

And if you decided to look beyond those first thoughts and think outside of the box, you’d realize you could experiment, develop a really great, unique recipe for lemonade and share it with the world. Doing so, might lead you down a path you’d never thought of taking. One that might be the sweetest road you’d ever traveled.




Cheers!

Have you ever wished you had more time and then get it and then waste it? I know I have.

I’ve often said I wish I had six hours more in the day and the energy to go with it. But that is never going to happen, right?

I’ve had days when there was nothing pressing on my agenda and I could’ve used the day to catch up on chores or activities that I’ve longed to do, but instead I became an eggplant who participated in a Law & Order rerun marathon.

Should I be upset with myself? No. Not if it only happens once or twice a year. Everyone needs the kick and just rest once in awhile. Wasting time, letting opportunities to do what you really want to do slip away, day after day, can lead to depression. So the question rises—how do you stop wasting time?

My best tool for not wasting time, is to make a list of things you want to accomplish each month, each week, each day. Some of you may have taken Margie Lawson’s workshop on Defeating Self-defeating Behaviors. In that class, Margie suggests people make such lists. I’ve made lists for years and I was so happy reading from the Psychologist that I was on the right track.

Some people might say, I don’t need a list, I know what I have to accomplish. My answer to them is, I do too. I know what I want to accomplish, but by making a list I prioritize my tasks, I set deadlines and I set goals. In other words, I have a plan.
Some might also say, I don’t have time now and you want me to take more time to make a list. Shhhh..Secret! It takes a few minutes. Usually, I’ll make my list in the morning, but sometimes I might start my list for the next day the night before and finish it off in the morning. And, just so you know, at times, things come up during the day and they’re added to my list and another chore might be moved to the next day. But having that list with me every day motivates me to not waste precious time.
So as an example, here is my list for today.

1) Deep edit chp 3 and email to reader. DONE

2) Write post for PFS Blog. DONE

3) Deep edit chp 4.

4) Exercise

5) Pick out outfits for up-coming wedding/vacation

There’s more, but these are the chores I really want to accomplish today. Note: exercise is on my list every single day. A 30 minute walk is exercise.

Okay, so what is on your list today?

Mama Mary and Scarlet are in Washington DC at the Romance Writers of America National conference. Mama Mary is in the sitting area beside the elevators so she can get online free to do this blog for you.

Mama Mary and Scarlet pose in front of the Marriott, the conference hotel.










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Scarlet says hi!
Where does she think she's going?

Today I received my cover for my Black Rosette, a spicy vampire romance. I am very excited about this cover as it captures the essence of the story. The layers of visuals are beautiful and I love the font used for my name. Coming soon from THE WILD ROSE PRESS.

Every writer on this blog is a dream chaser. We each chase a similar dream. Each of us sits down and writes stories we hope to share in "book" form. Some of our members have books out in ebook form. Some have books in print.

We want to sell books to publishers so readers can enjoy them. We also want to make money from our writing. To a new writer or a reader this might sound simple enough. Write a book and send it to publishers and someone will publish if for you. Sure! (Have any idea how many people say they want to write and book and how few finish even one book?) Folks have told me often that I can sell my books on the web. We should put parts our books online or our websites and readers will beg for more and buy the whole books. Have you heard that one? Of course it has happened, but consider the odds of selling enough books to make enough money to buy a few groceries or to get the attention of an editor or an agent who will offer us barrels of money. There are folks who don't consider that I'd have heard about that idea many times over. They just want to help.

Of course we can self-publish or go through a vanity press and sell our little hearts out to make any money, certainly not enough to pay bills. We have at least one member who has gone that route for some books and she can tell us more about that.

We can write for pleasure and let that be our reward. Changing the dream might be the answer or at least a temporary answer.

Many actors want to make money acting, but some work in local theaters for free. These actors chase a dream and have to decide how big the dream is or change that dream. Having people applaud and praise these actors might be enough reward for them.

Many children dream of being dancers, models, cheerleaders and more. Each can have a dream and a few will achieve their dreams as professionals. Some kids will become adults who make the pleasure of learning and performing without pay the dream.

Artists with enough talent and enough drive and the right opportunities might someday make a living doing what they love to do. More won't sell at all.

I won't get into athletes dreams for fame and fortune.

Should we chase dreams? Oh, yes. We need passion for something. If writing is my passion, I need to keep trying to sell a book, knowing that it might not happen. If I knew I'd never sell a book, I'd still keep writing. I'd need to change my dream, though. No NYT best seller list. No huge contract. No making a living as a writer. Giving away my stories.

Some of us have learned that selling our treasured books might be just the beginning of the job.

Do you have dreams, passions that might or might not come true? Drems that weren't all they were cracked up to be?

I'll be heading to San Francisco Monday to work toward living my dream. Approximately 2,000 writers, many members of Romance Writers of America, will be there to give and attend workshops to help us work toward our dreams. Agents and editors for publishing houses will be there and maybe offer us a big break. We'll be around writers who write for a living and some who make the big bucks writing. We writers will network and visit and try to uncover that secret to success! A special few writers will be honored in our version of the academy awards, the Rita and the Golden Heart. Dreams come true!

I have eight completed novels and more stories I haven't completed. I also have a stack of rejections. I'm not done yet!

We can become so tied to our jobs and our families we forget to have our own lives, especially mothers. Those of us with dreams and passions beyond those others understand have to fight harder.

When I taught school I had no time for writing or friends who didn't teach at my school or know my husband through photography. As a woman born in the early 1940's, I believed being a good wife mean giving up anything that didn't help my husband, and make me a good daughter, a great mama, and a good teacher. Mama was the perfect example of the woman I wanted to be.

I graduated from college and married in time to escape the "free love" and "do your own thing" period. (Actually, my personality wouldn't have allowed me those freedoms.)

I have no complaints about helping my husband,now my EX, build his Photography business, but I regret that I didn't allow myself to branch out and make more friends. I don't know when I would have done that while taking care of my daughter, my parents, and my job. I often wondered if I did a good job in any of those areas.

Once I stopped teaching I gave in to my secret passion, writing. I'd been a storyteller all my life, the time had come for me to write stories.

A stroke of luck sent me to Georgia Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America and friends who wrote stories. I made new friends who understood the characters who interrupted my dreams and entertained me while I drove alone. Some are still my best friends.

Discovering computers led me to the Internet where I found more friends. Now my friends are people who are here for me when I feel like the world isn't working. I've belonged to several critique groups and have made lasting friends though them. When I need a shoulder to cry on because of a rejection or a personal setback, I go to my friends online and my critique partners. When I need someone to celebrate finishing a book with me or just feeling good, I call my critique partners. Writing even helped me connect with a high school and college friend.

One other friend became my first reader and my friend when I told her I wrote novels at least fifteen years ago.

If you don't think you have time to make and keep friends, re-think that. My friends, even those I made online, helped me get though the deaths of my parents and my divorce.

If you put off your secret passions or delay going after your dream, you might miss it completely. There is no better time than now.

I celebrate everyday with help from my friends.

It is an odd thing, but everyone who disappears is said to be seen in San Francisco. It must be a delightful city, and possess all the attractions of the next world.

Oscar Wilde

Do you suppose that's why the RWA convention is in San Francisco?