Feast of Posting Day 2 . . . ladies, ladies, ladies

 I have more and more and more author pics and future author pics to share. Are you ready for this? Oh, and on a side note, if you're feeling a little left out and you too want an author pic, just email me and next time you're around I'll shoot you. And it will be awesome, and all your photo taking dreams will come true. Just saying.

Have you met Sandy Ponton? This woman is:
1. Stunning. Her hair makes me so angry with jealousy because it's thick and lovely.
2. An awesome writer that's working on a YA paranormal romance. Sigh. Seriously swoon worthy.
3. So exotic because she lives in FORKS! Yep. Vamp and wolf-boy country.

Then there's Ruth.
From afar I've watched Ruth and wanted to be her because her name is fabulous and she's from a small town that I adore. I would tell you which town but that might lead to further cyber-stalking and I don't think she'd be down with that. Right now she's working on a freaking awesome book about awesomeness and romance.

I can't talk about Ruth without bringing up Donna. Donna is amazing and her hubby is on his way home from the war...probably even as I write this. She's also working on some sweet little romance that knocks my socks off. 

Katie. What can I say about Katie that doesn't involve seething jealousy and gnashing of teeth? Ok, that's a bit much, but seriously if you read any of her historical romance you would want to be her. I wish I could write like that. I dreamt about an italian boxer . . . just saying.

Last for today, but certainly not least, is the breath-taking Julie from Kentucky! Julie is currently working on a middle grade Erotica. (ha ha...just kidding.) But she is a future author that writes beautifully. I loved these two pics of her so I'm posting both. Why? Cause I can. 

That's all for today folks! So have a happy Halloween and eats lots of candy. 

oh ladies . . . FEAST OF POSTING!

Usually I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It's not like a planned out thing where I make sure to touch on certain subjects so my attentive reading audience of one, sometimes two spammers, will know what to expect. Oh no. I have no grand and glorious ideas about the format of this blog. Mostly I just do what I want. 

You good with that? 

I hope so because today is exactly what I want to do. I didn't blog yesterday in anticipation of today's feast of posting. 

Wowza, that sounded like a great title. Can I say that one more time?

Feast of Posting

Which means, I will be posting all day today because I have lots to share. I met a bunch of ladies recently at a writing thingy and I took their pictures. (That's the simplified version so I don't sound too braggy or name-droppy.) Totally not me, right?

To start the parade of ladies, is the lovely and ever talented CHRISTINE TYLER.

Christine is an artist and a writer who is ridiculously talented and inspires ten kinds of jealousy in me. Her current WIP is: Tiger Red, Monkey Blue which is an Adult Eastern Fantasy. 

Next up for the day is the lovely JEIGH MEREDITH. Her sparkling blue eyes take my breath away, as does her insane ability to write amazing-ness. Jeigh is currently writing a YA Fantasy. 

Come back by later today to see more author and future author pictures I caught this weekend. Who knows, maybe I paparazzi-d a pic of you!

secret 29 of 100

I loved Sesame Street. Remember when Cookie Monster and the letter of the day? Greatest part of my morning routine. Mostly I loved how the letter popped up in the episode in the most unusual places. It was inspiring, to say the very least.

Not only did I learn my letters, but I developed a love for the letter E because E is for Erin, it's good enough for me, Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin...

I digress. That wasn't the secret.

This is. My secret is:

I mark my territory.  

Not like a dog peeing on the neighbor's tree, but more like Cookie Monster and his letters all over Sesame street.

Example: 
1. I shaved an E into my Dad's golden retriever. Down to the skin, the marking spanned the dog's entire back. It was awesome for about 60 seconds. Then Dad yelled my name from the opposite side of the house, and well the awesomeness was not so much.

2. When my parents forced me to mow the lawn, which I loathed, I mowed all but a massive 4 foot E in the middle of the lawn. That'll teach them! (I don't think they got the message because they kept having me mow the dang lawn.)

3. There may or may not be public city property that contains my initials, carved deeply in the surface. I'm not admitting to anything here people. I'm just saying.

4. (This is my last admission. Please don't share this with my Mom, lest I be grounded)
My high school principal's name was Eris. She had the loveliest notepad shaped in the letter E. Feeling a bit clandestine, I once snuck into her office and stole part of the pad of paper. I was weak. I left E notes all over my friend's lockers. I still have one piece left.

So basically the moral of the story is this, if I've been to your house, your car, or maybe even your workplace, there could be an E in the most unlikely places. (Insert laugh of pure evilness).

Are you territorial too?

best. song. ever.

Truth: I love One Direction.

If I was a fifteen year old girl I would start screaming into a near seizure every time the song You Don't Know You're Beautiful came on the radio. Oh wait. Uh, yeah, I guess that can happen when you're not fifteen.

Anyway . . . recently the leader of my church gave an address, and simply said that every young woman should be told she is beautiful and know she is.

A group of ridiculously awesome young men got together and decided to take those words to heart. And they made this video that is painfully awkward, but so so so endearing. So I had to share.

eat crap and die epiphany

My brother used to say, "Eat crap and die."
Puh-lease. Like I'm gonna do that.
Jessie (my bro and not my writing bestie) was the world's biggest dork and so when my mom wasn't listening, I would tease him. Relentlessly.
He was the only boy in a house of wildly obnoxious girls and because of this he often felt picked on like my parents were truly assigning him more to do. Why do I have to mow the lawn? Pick up the dog poop? Take out the garbage? Etc. Etc. And so on.
Puh-lease.
"Jessarella, Jessarella, All I hear is Jessarella," I would sing in the perfect Cinderella mouse-squeak. He loved it. So much so, his favorite response was the aforementioned and very classy, "Eat crap and die."

For years I hated the phrase. Now I quite enjoy it. I've found myself using it when the situation seemed fitting. Like when a crit partner tells me to work on my MS instead of reading. Or when my hubby suggests I stop whining and actually start writing. Yeah, ya'll. You can Eat Crap and Die. That's what I'm thinking . . . and sometimes saying.

Obviously for all of Jessie's suggesting, it didn't add up to much because as of today I have yet to Eat Crap and Die. But today for some reason I got to really thinking about his tag line.

And then I had an epiphany. 
Instead of eating crap and dying (are you getting sick of that phrase yet?) what I need to do is sort through the crap and live. Translation: edit my crap and make it so awesome that my characters come to life. (Are you having an ah-ha moment too?)

Basically today's deep inner thoughts added up to this:

EDIT THE CRAP TILL ITS AWESOME. DONT EAT IT.

Does that even make sense to you? Or am I just having a really weird Monday morning? And if it doesn't make sense, give me your own epiphany and maybe I can run with that. 

secret 28 of 100

I am was a giant snarled-haired mess of a nerd. Tis sad, but true. (Thank you Ursula for that line.)

Growing up, I was a bit on the portly side. I wore the same shirt day in and day out. And I  somehow missed the memo that brushing my hair was of any importance. (THIS IS NOT THE SECRET). In the fifth grade Donnie Sullivan . . . oh sweet Donnie Sullivan, sigh . . . he talked to me at recess. My heart nearly exploded out of my chest as I watched him approach. But that sensation was short lived.
Donnie said, "Hey Erin, don't you know how to use a brush?"

Uh, apparently not.

The kids laughed. I joked back. Faked a smile. But inside, I died a little.

And then I vowed to start brushing my hair. (True story, but NOT the secret.)

The thing of it is, despite my chub and rat's nest living atop my head, I had lots of friends because I went out of my way to be friendly and as funny. But I never had "the one." The one friend that would be my BFF and share a Best Friend Necklace. This plagued me. I prayed at night that the Lord would deliver me a BFF, one willing to split the heart necklace that marked us as Best Friends Forever.

(INSERT SECRET SPILLING DRUMROLL) 

That friend never came. 

I never EVER shared a Best Friend Necklace with anyone. 

Wow, it's good to get that off my chest. Yeah, so I admit I was kind of a nerd. 

So imagine my surprise when something showed up  in the mail about a week ago . . .

The moral of this story is the Lord really does answer prayers even if it takes twenty-three years. But hey, who's counting, right? 

Any wish or dream you've been praying about for a long time? Maybe something will come in the mail to you too.

not my usual read: On the Island by Tracey Garvis-Graves

I like to stay in the shallow end of the pool. I really only like to go out to dinner at the Olive Garden. And I only read young adult.

That's just who I am. (I'd say, "take it or leave it," but I think I have a few friends that might just drop me like a soggy fry. So take me as I am.)

The thing is, I almost never read anything that isn't strictly young adult fiction. Earlier this summer I had a few friends insist that I read On the Island by Tracey Garvis-Graves. 

After a restless night, I figured why not. I downloaded the book from Amazon and read from 12:30 to 3:45 am, stopping only because I knew I had to get up in a few hours to teach an aerobics class. But I didn't spare any time after the class to finish the book.

I loved it.

I more than loved it. I thought it was witty and emotionally charged and brilliant and everything I wish I could write (aside from some of the um, well, steamy scenes. That's not my usual MO.)

So, I say, if you're ok with some serious steaminess and my complete lack of grammar when professing book love, check out:

Summary:
When thirty-year-old English teacher Anna Emerson is offered a job tutoring T.J. Callahan at his family's summer rental in the Maldives, she accepts without hesitation; a working vacation on a tropical island trumps the library any day. T.J. Callahan has no desire to leave town, not that anyone asked him. He's almost seventeen and if having cancer wasn't bad enough, now he has to spend his first summer in remission with his family - and a stack of overdue assignments - instead of his friends.

Anna and T.J. are en route to join T.J.'s family in the Maldives when the pilot of their seaplane suffers a fatal heart attack and crash-lands in the Indian Ocean. Adrift in shark-infested waters, their life jackets keep them afloat until they make it to the shore of an uninhabited island.

Now Anna and T.J. just want to survive and they must work together to obtain water, food, fire, and shelter. Their basic needs might be met but as the days turn to weeks, and then months, the castaways encounter plenty of other obstacles, including violent tropical storms, the many dangers lurking in the sea, and the possibility that T.J.'s cancer could return. As T.J. celebrates yet another birthday on the island, Anna begins to wonder if the biggest challenge of all might be living with a boy who is gradually becoming a man.

Read anything good lately? Steamy or not?

cat epiphany

I'm a pantser. I've never been much of a planner. And for other aspects in my life, flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants has worked out just fine. But five books later (yes, I've written five horridly puke-worthy books) I'm still not producing anything that's publishable.

My stories tend to meander quite a bit and lack any sort of real tension in the middle. I'm pretty good at figuring out where the fault lies in my writing because I read a lot. Having just took more than three months off writing, it's easy to come back and the areas where I've gone wrong. So very wrong.

Back in the spring I went to LDS storymakers Conference. When I was there Elana Johnson gave a class on plotting. She spoke about the genius-ness of Save the Cat (the how-to plot book for screenwriting). This book will revolutionize your life if you're a budding writer and you tend to write a lot of crap.

The class by Elana Johnson changed my life. Not only can she kick my A when it comes to tennis, but she's also a freaking writing genius. And she's super funny. And I'm a big-ole name-dropper. Elana. Elana. Elana. Elana.

I digress. Back to my point. Plot!
Midpoint, turns, and climax. No more writing with a vague idea, but know where I want it to go. Mind blowing stuff.

PLOT MORE. WRITE CRAP LESS. 

What about you? Any tips on plotting or pantsing?

Friday Five: traveling

Today I'm in Albuquerque, New Mexico, 

A wedding to shoot before I go,

Then I'll be headed back to my home state, 

Lola the laptop and I have a hot date. 

When I'm traveling there are things I do

five must have's when I'm flying or going by floo

1. I talk. I'm that annoying girl you meet on a plane that will talk your ear off and ask you completely inappropriately personal questions because I'm so curious. People are fascinating and I want to learn all about their lives. Recently I met an IT guru that works in the oil industry and a real estate tycoon that owns half of Arizona, but likes to wear Tommy Bahama shirts, shorts, and slippa's (flip flops for those not from Hawaii.)

2. I watch. I like to go and sit and just watch. And not just the hotties, but anyone . . . like sweet homeless guy at the Starbucks in Huntington.

3. I shop. I have a thing for shoes. Ok, yes, it may be a problem. Please don't share this with my hubby, but the last two trips I went on to visit Jessie I bought a total of seven pairs of shoes. Really, it's Jessie who is to blame. Right?

4. I laugh. Mostly this happens when I'm watching people because people can be so dang funny. Or what they're wearing can be funny. I get that this makes me sound like a mean girl, but how can I not laugh when a guy cruises down Huntington Beach Main street wearing only lederhosen and he's drunk as a skunk? Funny stuff. 

5. I eat. To clarify, I eat candy. My favorite thing about going to new places is finding their local candy shops. Who doesn't like candy? Candy is my favorite. 

So really, as you can see I'm just like you and probably quite a bit more boring. I want to know what you like to do when you're on vacation or traveling around for your job. Care to share? Or whatever, just leave a spam comment. I'm a beggar, not a chooser. 

author Kim Krey

A few years back I met this ridiculously spunky girl, KIM KREY, at a writing conference that I lovingly refer to as the "porno conference." Not because it was in vegas and the Heff was there, but because I had never met so many erotica writers in my life. It was an eye-opening experience (and shirt popping.) See what I'm talking about HERE.

Kim's book EVIE'S KNIGHT, just hit Amazon a little over a week ago and it's ridiculously amazing. You should check it out and Kim because she's super foxy. But I digress, here's a little about the book:

IN EVIE'S KNIGHT, LOVE DOESN'T SIMPLY HURT...

IT KILLS.

EVIE always thought college life would be magical, but so far it's not what she hoped for. Her best friend has gone wild, her love life is void, and she misses her mom more than ever. But life for Evie is about to change. CALVIN KNIGHT, the very object of her fascination, is about to fall madly in love with her. Just one problem: Their love conjures a murderous woman from beyond the grave who wants Evie dead. The same demon who has haunted the Knight men for over four generations.

Soon Calvin is forced to choose: Set Evie free and hope to evade the wrath of The Raven-haired Ghost, or use his newly gifted strengths to fight against her. If he chooses to fight and wins, Calvin will free the Knight men of this demonic witch. If he loses, Evie will become her next victim.

Go check this one out. And is there anything else you're reading right now? I'm always in the mood for a good book suggestion. 

epiphany at Starbucks

I'm sitting at the Huntington Beach Starbucks with Jessie Humphries. Laptops are spread across the table as she drinks some freaky steamed vanilla soy concoction that tastes like pureed sugar cookies--and she thinks I'm the one with the sugar addiction. Please. I'm sipping a mango with extra fiber juice. You can never have too much fiber in your life.

We're writing. Finally.

Every year the wedding season hits big in the summer for me. I'm quite wimpy and I detest shooting in the cold. Ninety percent of my clients are taken between April and October. And now that the season has slowed down, I've finally pulled out my dusty laptop Lola for a spin around the block.

And I'm so so so incredibly happy because my friends are AWESOME (see Jessie's blog today). But I'm also pissed as hell. (Can I say that online? Please don't tell my mom I swore or I'm sooooo grounded.)

Anyway, I'm furious with myself. Or I have been. I've been a bit of a whiner about having no time to write and no time to blog. And my sweet writing buds have been so patient with all my whining.

And then today I sort of woke up.

I realized, why whine when I can write? (Insert light bulb here. This is the EPIPHANY.)

Right?

There's no point in being angry with myself for missing goals that I tossed by the wayside. So, inspired by so many amazing friends and their amazing books and their amazing agents . . . and because I don't really want to end up like homeless guy at the Starbucks no matter how sweet he is, I'm back in the game.

WHINE LESS, WRITE MORE.

I know I left ya'll high and dry for a good six months, but if you're out there, oh sweet mother if anyone is out there, please drop a line and say hi. Or anything. Heck, I'll even take the freaky spam comments. 

If you feel inclined to stop back by, I'll be posting three times a week with inspired thoughts or just ridiculous crap.