Murder She Writes

Happy New Year All! As many of you know, I have recently become two people. Sometimes it’s hard to tell us apart. I even have trouble. Last summer, I went to the Ballantine party in San Francisco and when I checked in, I said, “Hi, I’m Jennifer Apodaca.”

The gal handing out the name tags shook her head. “No you’re not.”

Confused, I said, “I’m not?”

She smiled and handed me a tag. “No, you’re Jennifer Lyon.”

I looked down at my name tag and it read, Jennifer Lyon. What do you know, she was right! I wore the name tag for the rest of the evening so I wouldn’t get mixed up again.

See? It’s hard being two people. And it’s hard for others too, sometimes they don’t know whom they are speaking too, Apodaca or Lyon. So I devised a little test so that people can tell us apart.

If you were in a reality show, what character would you be cast as?

Apodaca: I’d be cast as the dumpy, boring contestant who gives great advice but never gets any credit. I’d be the first or second one voted off the show.

Lyon: I’d be the drunken slut, and I’d accidentally stumble onto the answers that would make me the winner!

If you were pulled over for speeding by a male cop, would you get a ticket?

Apodaca: I haven’t been pulled over in so long, I have no idea. I look so boring and unthreatening, I was waved through a checkpoint stop when every other car was stopped.

Lyon: Hell no. But I’d get a date out of it—for research of course, hands on research. And hey, Apodaca, did you mention the time you walked into the police station and asked to talk to a resource officer? Hmm? You were wearing shorts, remember? And the captain himself helped you out? Took you on a tour of the entire station?

Apodaca: Not true! I went there to ask if I could make an appointment with a resource officer! I didn’t even think about my shorts, I was STUCK on my book. It never occurred to me that…never mind, why am I explaining myself to you?

If you and your girlfriend like the same guy, what do you do?

Apodaca: Sigh. Why bother? The guy is going to go for my girlfriend anyway. Besides, I’m married.

Lyon: Is the guy hot? If he is, I’d get my girlfriend drunk, pour her in a cab, pay her fair because I’m a good friend, then go snag the guy and drag him back to my lair.

Do You Actually Believe in Witches?

Apodaca: No. I find the witch hunts fascinating and believe they arose from irrational fear in repressed societies. Since the beginning of time, there has been a fear of women, fear of their ability to have children and that men usually couldn’t be sure it was THEIR children, fear of female intuition, fear…

Lyon: Oh enough already, Apodaca! Every time someone asks a question is not an invitation to lecture on your boring life theories. Witches do exist. I know they do because they talk to me. Witch Hunters exist too. Where do you think my stories come from?

Apodaca: Your drunk hallucinations after consuming a dozen apple martinis?

Okay there you have it! Did it work? Do you think if you ran into me on the street you would know if you are talking to Apodaca or Lyon?
Don’t forget, January 19th is the beginning of the Cyber Launch Party for BLOOD MAGIC at www.Jenniferlyonbooks.com

I am determined that 2009 is going to be a much better year for me. This past year has been very, very tough. Year and half, really. There were a lot of personal issues that kept trying to drag me under, and I have deemed it The Year of Darkness.

So, it seems right that I make at least a few….er, I’m not going to call them resolutions. Maybe, positive statements of life? Yeah, that’s what we will call them.

1. I know I am a good writer, and it’s time for me to STOP questioning it every time something bad happens.

2. There is only so much I can do to make my books sell, and the rest is in the hands of the publisher and the publishing gods. I will work harder at what I can control, and put behind me the things I cannot. (Thanks, Karin!)

3. I will continue to try to put positive energy out there. I do believe in karma, so I want to be on the receiving end of GOOD things, not bad things.

4. I will concentrate on the things I am good at, instead of the things that I do really poorly. This one is mostly easy. I will not sew, bake, or attempt crafts. I will write. I will raise my children. Again, I WILL NOT SEW. No sewing.

5. I will let people know when they have done something I respect or admire! Too often, we figure someone else is doing that, and not realizing they are only hearing the BAD things, and not the good things.

So, there are five POSITIVE things I plan on doing this year. What, if any things do you have in mind for this year?

I’m not one who does resolutions all at once at a specific time of year. Too much pressure. I mean, seriously, starting the year off with a list of crap that I know is wrong about myself and have to suddenly start fixing? Am I a masochist? Who thought this up? Have they been shot yet? Can I try?

I have a list of “to do” items up on one of my big white boards. I have several lists on my desk, but no one was coming along and magically doing them, so I thought I’d be way more productive and write them on my board. Which I face, when I sit at my desk. I thought I’d start small, a very do-able list of five things. I wrote those five items in large red block letters so I’d be sure to see them and get them done.

A month ago.

I marked one off today. One out of five. 

And these aren’t personal flaws that I should feel guilty about. These are nice things. Things that will make me feel better when I’m done. Things I ought to do because I will be happy about the results. 

I’m going to erase them and write them in blue lettering. Blue is a lot less aggressive. Maybe I’ll do them if they’re in blue.

Or purple. 

Or, you know, not on the board, staring me in the face, mocking my perverse nature with big block lettering that is all but calling me a lazy slut.

I may have issues.

I like keeping lists, though. The lists are a cool memory cache and keeps me from stressing because I know I wrote it down somewhere. I’ll keep a work list (for both writing and the construction company) and I’ll write out goals or dreams… and then put them away. Anything that’s an absolute–for work issues–goes on a calendar. Everything else? Well, the honest truth is that I’m old enough now to know that if I really want to do them, I’ll do them. If they’re really important to me, I’ll carve out the time. We do what is a priority to us. I can’t make something a priority by putting it on the list; it either is or isn’t a priority before it gets on there. If it’s a priority, it’s gonna get done, whether it’s on the list or not. And if it isn’t a priority, it’s more important that I examine why it’s not. What is it about that thing that makes me think I “should” be doing it and what is it that’s stopping me from following through?

There are things I want to accomplish. But they’re things that are on-going, that are always going to be a priority, and I’ll probably fail at them some of the times, but my attitude is that I want these things and, because I want them, I’ll keep trying. Set-backs are human. Desire matters.

So in the meantime, for this whole resolution thing, I’ve come up with a way to make a list for myself that doesn’t require actual effort and will make me feel successful:

I resolve to continue to have green eyes. I’ll be nice to my dog. I will hug my kids every chance I get. I will continue to be 5′ 2 3/4″ (shut up, you’d claim it, too, if you were this short). I will continue to be southern and Cajun and bossy. (That last one is just for fun.) And I will eat mayonaise, dammit, the real stuff, not the fake polite diet bug-spray tasting stuff, I don’t care how supposedly bad-for-you real mayo is, there are just some things in life that one should not have to do without.

So how about you? What resolution did you make that you broke in the past (or think you’ll break soon)?

And meanwhile, may you all have extremely happy, fun, healthy and productive New Year’s.

As challenging as 2008 was for so many people….this people included….I hold the utmost optimism for the upcoming new year. My hopefulness has nothing to do with a new president taking office, fuel prices coming down, bailout money free-flowing from the government, or even a new book contract. It has to do with hope, and I think that’s something that has to come from inside of a person. A willingness to stand back up no matter how hard you get knocked down or the size of the bruise left on your rear-end. Yes, we can, of course, gather hope from others, but how quickly the world would be drained of that valuable resource if we didn’t have some small token of it to offer others ourselves.

So, for my many friends reading this, most of whom had their butts kicked this year by the economy, by the universe, by life in general, I’d like to offer a small token of hope and support. I’m sending it by way of a song I heard recently. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to add it to this blog, but you can hear it straight away if you go to my myspace home page. www.myspace.com/deborahleblanc
So turn up your speakers, click on the link, (takes a second or two to start playing) and have a listen…..and may 2009 bring all of you great joy, peace, health, and success!
deb

P.S. For anyone who might have trouble understanding all the words due to the accent, I’ve added them for you below.

“Stand Back Up”

Go ahead and take your best shot,
Let ‘er rip, give it all you’ve got,
I’m laid out on the floor, but I’ve been here before,
I may stumble, yeah I might fall,
Only human aren’t we all?
I might lose my way, but hear me when I say,

I will stand back up,
You’ll know just the moment when I’ve had enough,
Sometimes I’m afraid, and I don’t feel that tough,
But I’ll stand back up,

I’ve been beaten up and bruised,
I’ve been kicked right off my shoes,
Been down on my knees more times than you’d believe,
When the darkness tries to get me,
There’s a light that just won’t let me,
It might take my pride, and my tears may fill my eyes,
But I’ll stand back up,

I’ve weathered all these storms,
But I just turn them into wind, so I can fly,
What don’t kill you makes you stronger,
When I take my last breath,
That’s when I’ll just give up,

So, go ahead and take your best shot,
Let ‘er rip, give it all you’ve got,
You might win this round but you can’t keep me down,

‘Cause I’ll stand back up,
And you’ll know just the moment when I’ve had enough,
Sometimes I’m afraid and I don’t feel that tough,
But I’ll stand back up,

You’ll know just the moment when I’ve had enough,
Sometimes I’m afraid and I don’t feel that tough,
But I’ll stand back up.

It’s December 30th, and while that may mean only one day until champagne gets uncorked or two days until you make that resolution list, the date means something entirely different and special to me. Nineteen years ago, on a snowy night in Boston in a candlelit church full of people I love and adore, I glided down the aisle and did the very thing my father always told me I’d better do: I married rich.

Only, in truth, I married Rich. That’s his name, so probably not exactly what my dad meant when he issued that edict. But I’m glad I listened to him. Because I married this particular kind of Rich, I’ve been laughing and feeling loved for almost two decades. When I look back on that dreamy night in 1989, it’s not the lovely ceremony I remember or the spectacular dinner at the Ritz Carlton for sixty of our favorite people. It’s not the dress, the gifts, the dances, the champagne, or even the wedding night. My most vivid memory took shape the next day, at a rickety table in the San Juan, Puerto Rico airport, on our layover from Boston to St. Barts. We shared a beer, face to face, punch drunk with exhaustion and giddy with love. I remember gazing into the deep brown eyes of a man I still think is one of the best looking I’ve ever seen, knowing that I would die, just keel right over dead if I had to go through the rest of my life this happy. No one could survive that strain on the heart, that much adrenaline pumping through the veins, that full-body shake-down sensation that is just-married love.

I have, I’m happy to report, survived it. And a lot of other things, too, including his early retirement. Since I have worked from home that same amount of time, Rich and I have basically been in the same house 24/7 for fifteen of our nineteen years, so technically, compared to a normal couple, we’ve been married about thirty-six years. I’ve enjoyed (almost) every one of those many days and years together, laughing first thing in the morning through the last thing at night…because I married Rich.

If you know me at all, you might hate me because know my husband is a talented cook, so I’ve been treated to gourmet meals for the entire nineteen years. He’s also an amazing father who has spent about a zillion hours coaching baseball, navigating the school car line, checking the math homework (don’t even think about bringing that algebra to me, baby), guiding our children through life with unparalleled wisdom and love and patience. They are turning into fantastic people…because I married Rich.

Life throws couples curves, as any married person knows. We’ve been through our share, including losing our home in a hurricane, building another that took sixteen endless, miserable months, job changes, life losses, stock market crashes, miscarriage, open-heart surgery, and, now, the granddaddy of all marital challenges, raising teenagers. Through every tough time, my husband has retained his humor, his affection, and his keen sense of balance. No matter what crisis we have to face, we always get through…because I married Rich.

About eight years ago, when I suggested I might walk away from a successful PR career so that I could spend my days with our kids and my nights on this wild and crazy dream of writing novels, my husband never flinched. He never waved the American Express bill at me with a reminder of my weakness for fine fashion. He never shook his head and explained that very few people ever get published. And he never suggested that romance novels weren’t the stuff of true literature. On the contrary, he assured me we’d be fine and he’d get creative with low cost cooking; he took the statistics of publishing, turned them on their head and said, “Honey, those 99,999 people submitting to the publishers aren’t you!” And as for romance? No, he’d never read one, but he’s read and loved every word I’ve written, even the early, clumsy efforts. And every single time, I kid you not, he puts down the last page of a manuscript, wipes a tear, and pronounces it The Best You’ve Ever Written. When I look at my wall of cover flats, all framed and bearing my name (not his, although when called Mr. St. Claire, he’ll treat you to that Cary Grant smile before he answers), I know I’ve had this rare and wonderful opportunity…because I married Rich.

In retrospect, I realize that my father wasn’t talking about money. He didn’t mean I should marry a rich man. He meant I should marry a man like Rich. A man who guards the cave, cracks me up, cheers me on, makes me think, loves the kids, offers brilliant advice (just ask him) and feeds me like I’m royalty. Is this man perfect? Not by a long shot. But, God knows, neither am I. He’s the glue that holds the pieces of my life together and without him, I would be bored, lost, hungry, and blue. Nineteen years later, I can honestly say that I’m still as happy as that girl in the San Juan airport, still looking into gorgeous brown eyes, still a little giddy about what lies ahead, and still in love…all because I married Rich.

(Honey, I know you’re reading this! Happy Anniversary! I love you!)

PS. My husband would be most unhappy if I dedicated this entire blog to him and didn’t use my slot today to remind readers I have a FREE Bullet Catcher novella that can be downloaded from my site for a limited time. Thanks to my fantastic publisher, Pocket Books, fans (and would-be fans) can catch “You Can Count On Me,” a RITA-nominated novella that first appeared in the anthology I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS two years ago. Since the book was holiday-themed, it wasn’t in bookstores for a long time and I’ve had lots of fans of the series mention that they missed it. So if you haven’t read this one, or you’d like to try a Bullet Catcher on for size (trust me, they fit real nice) go to www.roxannestclaire.com and hit “free download” and enjoy!

I don’t know about you all, but I’m still wiped out from the holidays and a lingering cold. So I thought I’d keep things simple on this last Monday of the year.

How about a Q & A?

• What was your most unexpected gift?
• Did you get your heart’s desire?
• Did you get any books? Care to share?
• Did you give any books this year?
• Favorite part of your holiday meal?
• Have you made your New Year’s resolutions yet?
• What are most looking forward to in 2009?
• Did you catch a cold, too?

* What was your most unexpected gift?
– Frosty the Snowman velour pjs from my hubby
* Did you get your heart’s desire this year?
– I really only wanted a toaster oven and hubby got me one.
* Did you get any books? Care to share?
– No books for me this year.
* Did you give any books this year?
– Yes, The Writing Diet, for my mom who’s always wanted to write a book AND lose weight.
* Favorite part of your holiday meal?
– sweet potato casserole
* Have you made your New Year’s resolutions yet?
– kinda, sorta. Still working on it.
* What are most looking forward to in 2009?
– having some time off.
* Did you catch a cold?
– Did I ever.

Happy New Year!

I don’t know about, y’all but I’m toast! I’m pigged out, burned out and shopped out. I am, officially ready for 2009!

I have a slew of resolutions: number one being: get healthy. I quit smoking, again. Not having a deadline hanging over my head has helped, a lot, and while I won’t blame the pressure I’ve been under as an excuse for lighting up again after years of not lighting up, I have to say, I really like to smoke! It’s damn hard to give up something you like! But it’s a slow kill and I don’t want to contribute to my early demise. So no mas cigarettes for Karin. And, I really need to shed this deadlines ass. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it gain, I feel like I’m being followed. Not good. So, with the beginning of getting back into shape, for me it’s walking five times a week and doing the medicine ball thingy a few days a week. I have another reason for the walks: my dog is getting fat. She’s getting old and doesn’t need the added weight on her hips. For her, I need to get out.

So that’s it for me, keep not smoking, walk five days a week, do the medicine ball thingy, oh, and cut out half the carbs I eat. I’m not going to diet. To me doing like the South Beach diet is telling myself I have write ten paged a day. Sometimes it ain’t gonna happen and damn if I’m going to beat myself up over it. So, no smoking, walk five times a week (at least 1 hour each walk), do the medicine ball thingy at least three times a week, cut carbs in half. That’s it. Oh, and read at least one book a week. And stop cussing. 

So, stop smoking, walk at least one hour, five times a week with my dog, and do the medicine ball thing, cut carbs in half, read at least one book a week, and stop cussing. No problem! Hah! I already know which one is so not going to happen! Can you guess which one?

And while you’re at it, tell me one or two or several of your 2009 resolutions!

Karin*

Considering I’m just now going to bed after wrapping presents while watching four episodes of Law & Order SVU (Season 10, through Apple TV), I don’t have a post for you today. It’s Christmas, a time for family, friends and reflection. My reflection? My kids are spoiled. But I certainly had fun doing it.

Merry Christmas.