Does life imitate art? Not for me. For me, it’s the other way around. When life happens, I write about it. For instance, after my husband and I built our house, I wrote about home construction in the Crosslyn Rise Trilogy. When we began spending time in small New Hampshire towns, I wrote Lake News. When my aunt developed Alzheimer’s disease, I wrote Shades of Grace. When I felt overwhelmed by life’s demands, I wrote Escape.
Archives for February 2014
Valentine’s Day is my kind of day. I was a romantic before I ever wrote a single romance, and once I did that – and discovered that people loved reading what I wrote – there was no end to my hearts-and-flowers imagination. All told, I wrote fifty romances, sometimes eight a year, I was that into it. But being a romance writer wasn’t, in fact, entirely hearts and flowers. There were friends who politely told me that they didn’t read “that kind of book.” Worse, there was the family member who actually told me she didn’t read “that kind of trash.” There were booksellers who hid me in a back corner when I came for a signing, rather than up front, where other visiting authors sat. And then there were people (male, usually, like the one selling me my first computer) who blithely said, “So now all you have to do is cut-and-paste different names, and you have a new book.”