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Tuesday, January 29, 2013

To My Husband Who Died in 1989

Strange how love evolves, my dear.

In 1969, I thought you were handsome and charming and daring,
I loved your outlaw swagger, your devil-may care bearing.
You were a dancer, a romancer, a drinker, a thinker.
I was thrilled to hitch a ride with your wild side.

By 1979, your sad soldier’s stories were growing old
Your death-defying acts more driven than bold
You were unpredictable, undependable, unmendable, expendable.
The wild ride turned out to be a roller-coaster.

In 1989, a second war, with cancer. This time you lost – and died.
We’d been apart ‘til you asked me to take that trip by your side.
You made no apologies, asked for no guarantees, made no final pleas
You rode out as you rode in.

Love is like a rose, sharing flowers and thorns
In the beginning, you only see the beauty
In the end, you only feel the pain.
But wait and time brings all it ‘round again. 

In 2009 and beyond, you are photos in an album, memories in a heart
Time polishes recollections, shines them once more, wipes away hurt
Today I remember the dancer, the romancer, the drinker, the thinker.
I choose to remember the roses.

Love is like a rose, sharing flowers and thorns
In the beginning, you only see the beauty,
In the end, you only feel the pain.
But wait, and times brings it ‘round again.


Monday, January 21, 2013

How To Build A Killer - Coming Soon

I suppose that every writer, every musician, every artist marvels at times about where inspiration comes from. Creating something brand new out of your own mind, a character or phrase or series of musical chords that never existed before,  is such a magical, mysterious process.

Recently, for instance, I was writing along on the 7th volume in the Rafe Vincennes series, perfectly happy to once again be involved with Rafe's adventures, when out of nowhere, Ethan Pierce pushed Rafe aside and took up residence in my head. I knew the basics about Ethan from the beginning - that he was a beautiful, abused child who became a killer but beyond that, his history and his life were unknown to me. But he was insistent about wanting to tell me about them. I put Rafe aside and embarked on a fascinating journey with Ethan as he revealed who he was and why. This book is a sort of how-to manual describing the steps society takes to build a which point, of course, we are horrified by our own creation, wanting nothing more than to lock it away behind bars.

I don't know how it works with other authors but I simply sit at the keyboard and wait for my characters to tell their story. It isn't always what I expect it to be. It isn't always what I want it to be. There are, at times, threads that appear to be unconnected to anything else until my character ties them up in a bow, saying, "see there, I told you it would all work out."

A few week's later and Ethan's tale is complete. He is satisfied and so am I.

How To Build A Killer will be published next week.H