Jenyfer Matthews

I love my cover for ONE CRAZY SUMMER so much and here’s your opportunity to show your enthusiasm as well.

Please visit http://www.thecoveyawards.blogspot.com/ to vote for your favorite book cover for July.

My cover, ONE CRAZY SUMMER, is number 7 (NUMBER SEVEN…SEVEN…7…7)

Thanks!

(remember - number 7!!)

I admit it. I’ve been a bit lazy for the last few weeks when it comes to writing. But I’m on vacation - it’s to be expected, right? (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it)

I have my new laptop but even though I bought it in part so that I could work while I was traveling, I have to admit that I haven’t gotten a whole lot done on it. It’s been sitting in the new backpack I bought for it in the corner most of the week in fact. I turned it on to make sure it worked, loaded Windows Office on to it and then wrote up some notes on my impressions of Amsterdam for the next bit of my current WIP and…that’s about it. Mostly I’ve been pretty busy running around during the day with the children shopping - buying school uniforms and all the other stuff that I can’t get easily (or cheaply) in Egypt. I revel in the abundance of choices available to me in the US - and am also somewhat overwhelmed and elated. I love all the summer sales - yesterday we were in the mall for four hours. I managed to find some bits and pieces of school uniforms and school shoes and if I found four skirts and a top for me in the process that’s just lucky.

Is it any wonder I’m too tired in the evening to do any writing?

I tried to shop online before I arrived so that I could limit the need to spend all day every day shopping. (Even if I wanted to, the kids would never stand for it. They aren’t really interested in shopping unless they think there’s something in it for them.) I bought my laptop online. I also bought myself another toy and have been spending a lot of time playing with it and trying to get it ready to use.

My new eBookwise reader.

Picking out and buying the ebooks was a breeze. Getting them from computer to reader is a bit more of a learning curve but I think I’ve got the hang of it now. In the end only three of the five books I purchased were compatible with my reader but I now have them uploaded to the reader and ready to go. I can’t wait to fill the memory card to full capacity. I’ve been reading the other two books on my mother’s desktop.

It’s all in the name of research. Yes…that’s it…research….

I’m happy to report that my flights home went well - no delays to speak of and no lost luggage. Our longest flight (9 hours) had the regular crew of flight attendants plus a bunch in training so we had much better service than I’m used to which helped as well. Still, nearly 27 hours of traveling with no sleep is not much fun, no matter how perky and attentive the service. They really can’t give you enough roasted almonds and wine to make it truly pleasant.

I said I planned to pop in to Amsterdam for a look around during my layover and I’m proud to say I did it. Proud? Why? I’m not quite as adventurous as I might seem on the surface, for all of my traveling. And I have a fear of public transportation.

Does that sound strange? I’m an American and used to getting around independently in my own car. I used to take the train to work in Cleveland years ago but I bought a monthly pass I flashed as I went and there were only three lines, color coded. A no brainer. Even the train in Cairo is pretty simple.

In Europe public transportation is much more developed. You can get just about anywhere on a bus or a train. So think about it: more stops and destinations mean many many more routes to navigate. They try to make it efficient by selling the tickets from vending machines but when you aren’t familiar with the system it just makes for one more challenge. Trying to figure out how to purchase a ticket to the destination you want from a vending machine with foreign money when the instructions are in Dutch and so are all the signs is no cake walk. But my main worry stems from how more more quickly and efficiently you can get lost if you are on a train / bus than if you are on foot.

But I didn’t let myself off the hook. (I told you I was dedicated to my research) I was pretty disgusted with myself for even thinking of chickening out. One of my new resolutions is not to be such a ninny about stuff like this and to do more things to seize opportunities to enjoy life as it comes. The kids and I were awake, we had loads of time and it wasn’t raining so I had no real reason to NOT go. It was either go into town or follow the kids as they played on the moving walkways in the airport. For five hours.

So I went.

I stowed my luggage in a locker in the airport, found a ticket office with a person to talk to, and ventured out into the larger world of Amsterdam on the train. The kids and I didn’t go so far - they were cold in the 70F cloudy damp weather after coming from Cairo! - but we had time to walk around a bit and had breakfast before we headed back to the airport. The signs in the airport were mostly in Dutch and English. Not so in the city. However even I can follow little pictures of an airplane. And all the people getting on the train with luggage was another clue.

I really enjoyed my short glimpse of Amsterdam and may do it again on the way back through in August (weather permitting - it did rain after we returned to the airport) But next time maybe I’ll bring jackets for the kids and a map.

I went to the doctor a few days ago and was cleared for take off. My pox have been healing top down so my face looks pretty decent now, but I won’t want to wear a bathing suit for at least another week. I had no problem resisting scratching but picking at the scabs is another story. I want them gone. NOW.

You’d think that packing up for a six week vacation with two kids would be difficult. Not so much. Passports - check. Tickets - check. American money - check. Over the years I’ve learned my lesson - go with empty, nested suitcases and fill them with the gifts the kids receive and all the shopping I will do. (Check)

But being on vacation does not mean I won’t do some writing work. In fact, I intend to do some research for my newest project (as yet to be named). My character Aurora is going to do a lot of traveling, first stop: Amsterdam. It just so happens that I have a SEVEN HOUR gap in Amsterdam, going and coming back again. What better way to do research than to hop on the subway into the city after a nearly sleepless night with two tired children and drag them around with me while I absorb the atmosphere of the neighborhood?

And you thought I wasn’t dedicated to my craft.

My 500-word-a-day writing goals have gone out the window with the beginning of the kids summer vacation and my illness. I’ve always tended to write in fits and starts anyway so I don’t suppose it’s a huge surprise that my self-discipline has taken a nose dive recently. I plan to make up for it when I collect my new laptop from my mother’s house.

Just because I haven’t been writing much doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking though. Fellow author and friend Anny Cook posted a interview and review of my book Here To Stay on her blog yesterday. I’m happy to say that she liked my book. It’s always a little nerve wracking when someone you know reads your work.

The thing I was thinking about after having done Anny’s interview was one question that authors often get asked: “Why did you start writing?” If I’m totally honest - and I can be here, right? - the reason I started writing was having read one too many badly written books. And I’m talking across genres here, not just romances. I figured if they could get published then why couldn’t I? I was always being told what a good letter writer I was. I got A’s in all my English classes in college. That qualified me, right?

It was a somewhat naive approach to the whole publishing game, but at the time I thought that all I had to do was write a good story. I hadn’t factored in writing credentials, who-you-know and just blind luck. I just figured everyone had to start somewhere.

I read somewhere once that Harlequin alone receives in the neighborhood of 10,000 submissions a year (this was years ago - they may get more now) and that they select about 2% of those for further consideration, even fewer for publication. That’s a 98% rejection rate. And given the volume of submissions they receive, most unsolicited submissions get less than a 5 minute assessment so you have to catch their attention quickly.

Fortunately I didn’t know how much the odds were stacked against me at the time and I blithely sent off my first story to Harlequin Intrigue. A few weeks later I was asked for the entire manuscript. I went back and forth with an editor there for a little while, changing things and tweaking before they finally just said no thanks. Looking back, the story is painful for me to read and I’m actually glad they rejected it, but it’s still staggering to me to think how far I got my first time out. Getting anything other than a form rejection letter is a miracle and a few personal editorial remarks is a gift for a new writer.

Having finally been published and getting good reviews is like winning the lottery.

Knowing what I know now about how much work goes into writing a book doesn’t make me a more forgiving reader though. It just makes it that much more difficult for me to find books to read that I don’t simultaneously edit in my head as I go along.

But editing is a topic for another day…

I haven’t really been in a writing mood lately - illness and rowdy children will do that. And due to some pre-existing stomach issues as well as the pox I am limited in what comfort foods I can eat: caffeine, alcohol, carbonation, chocolate, fatty foods, and citrus are off the menu. There isn’t much comfort left at the end of the day but a girl’s still gotta eat.

So, in spite of the heat I decided to make bread today. Freshly baked bread slathered in butter is what I was craving today so I got off my butt and into the kitchen.

I may not be the baker you would choose out of a lineup because the pox get no more attractive as they progress, but if my family isn’t happy to eat the bread then all the more for me. They have all already had it and if the chicken pox was that easy to contract then I suppose I would have had it long ago and I wouldn’t be here baking bread right now. I’d be recovering from jet lag on the side of the Atlantic.

I haven’t been writing, but I have been thinking. I almost pity the poor character who will be similarly afflicted soon…

Anyone who knows me realizes that I love verbal irony and employ sarcasm more than is probably really necessary in civilized conversation. I love ironic situations - not so long ago I posted a picture of a tiny litter can that was recently installed on a corner in my neighborhood where piles of trash are dumped every day in my Squash Blossom blog. The litter can is often empty while trash is heaped high on the ground beneath it.

I also appreciate irony in literature or movies. I love when a couple discovers the depth of their love by the sacrifices they each make for the other, such as in The Gift of the Maji or Romeo and Juliet. And it was ironic when after spending all that time and energy battling the fish in The Old Man and the Sea, when the Santiago finally subdued the fish and brought it to shore it had been consumed en route by sharks.

Turns out I don’t appreciate irony so much in real life however.

It’s a fine example of cosmic irony that I have managed to avoid contracting chicken pox for my entire life and come down with it this week, days before I am due to leave on my summer holiday — when I was planning on finally getting a vaccination. Sitting here itchy, alone and frustrated I fail to find any real amusement or satisfaction in the situation, ironic or not.

Just goes to show what procrastinating gets you.

I am grounded by my doctor and the airline for at least a week and have been told that I cannot circulate in the world (think Typhoid Mary) or eat chocolate or strawberries because they will inflame the itchiness. This goes beyond just simply irony and verges on cruel.

But I suppose I’m not the only one who’s ever discovered that irony isn’t always amusing.

I was thinking about that truck driver who recently won the $105M Powerball jackpot and how he said that he intended to keep driving his truck because what else was he going to do with himself? He might buy himself a “new” truck but not brand new because of the depreciation. A practical and down to earth man.

I’m lucky enough in what I do that I probably wouldn’t change my life all that much either. I’d still write and quilt - though I suspect I’d do it in a bigger house, perhaps in the south of France. Or Spain.

It’s unlikely that I’ll ever win a lottery (as they say, you have to play to win) but I started thinking about what one thing would I splurge on if I ever I came into some “found” money. The answer presented itself immediately: a new bed.

I’ve always wanted a really great bed. A four poster with a wood and iron work head and foot board and a mattress so thick (and yet firm) I might require a step to get up in it, 800 ct. Egyptian cotton sheets, and big fluffy down pillows. It would not only be a lovely sanctuary from the stresses of daily life, a place to sleep and dream, it would also be a showpiece in my room, a place to display all of the quilts I make with such care.

Yes, I would definitely get a bed. And someday when we settle down a bit more I probably will - I’ll find the money. What would you get yourself? Any secret wishes?