Love... thankfully.

Wow. It’s a busy time of year, isn’t it? For those of us in the states, we’re probably still finishing up those Thanksgiving leftovers. We probably gathered with family and friends to eat, well, pretty much everything in sight and then whined about it afterward. I don’t know which is more uncomfortable, the way I’ll feel after a long day of gluttony or the way I’ll feel after several days cooped up with relatives!

Not that I don’t love each and every one of them dearly, of course. I do, I do! I’m really looking forward to spending time with all my wonderful family as we go through this holiday season. But you know sometimes love is easier when it’s at a healthy distance and not sleeping on the pull-out for days at a time.

This is why I love reading (and, of course, writing) romance. Sigh. I get such a warm, fuzzy feeling every time I get to “The End”. Good has triumphed, struggles are all in the past, and our happy couple can ride off into the sunset and make babies. Babies who won’t spit up on their beautiful clothes or interfere with their vibrant love life, of course. Any evil in-laws have been vanquished and grumpy siblings have had a change of heart. We just know all will be well for this couple and their days—and nights—will be full of harmonious bliss.

I’ve got a whole pile of this “rescue reading” set aside to get me through the holidays, as a matter of fact. I hope you do, too. We all need something to shine a light at the end of the tunnel for us because, let’s face it, as dear and special as this season is, life isn’t always full of smiling pilgrims and turkey dinner.

In the past twelve months, our family has seen two funerals, three strokes, cancer, job loss, Alzheimer’s, school troubles, a broken arm and more than one broken dream. There will definitely be a shadow hovering over this year’s feast days. But love will be there, too.

This is why we need romance. Love really does conquer all things. Our rational, grown-up brains know that the hero and heroine will eventually have to face more trials, but for that one final page of the book we can live in their moment of un-shadowed joy. We trust that after all they’ve been through so far, they will surely survive what’s to come.

And that’s just like real life. As we laugh and squabble and pass the peas, we know that love has brought the family this far and love will keep it going. Life might not be perfect, but love is. Thankfully.

First-Ever Newsletter!

Hello! This is the first-ever Susan Gee Heino Newsletter. If you'd like to be added to my first-ever mailing list, just drop me a quick note at susan_gee_heino@yahoo.com and you'll get the second-ever newsletter delivered right to your inbox! Someday.

Now, keep reading for a chance at Free Stuff.

Love’s Busy Sometimes!

My Golden Heart winning debut novel, MISTRESS BY MISTAKE, comes out on December 1st! Yay, can you believe it? Finally!

It should be in bookstores everywhere, but in case you have trouble finding it, talk to your bookseller. They really do like to know what people are looking for. Or, if you don’t mind the shipping and handling, you can find it at http://www.amazon.com/ and they’ll send it right to your house. (The ISBN number is 978-0-425-23151-7 and the cover price is a doable $7.99.)

Reviews!

I won’t usually bore you with these, but since this is all new and exciting for me, I’d like to share a couple of the wonderful reviews MISTRESS BY MISTAKE has been receiving.

“Heino debuts with a delightful love-and-laughter story about an independent heiress and a dashing nobleman who discover the power of love while surrounded by mayhem and madness. I dare you not to laugh out loud!” --RT Reviews, 4 stars, HOT

“Sparkling with superbly crafted characters, humor, and deliciously sexy romance, Heino’s debut, winner of RWA’s Golden Heart award, is splendidly entertaining.” --Booklist

Booksignings

To celebrate my first-ever release (and to hawk it to the masses) I will be making a few, select public appearances. (No, not on Oprah or Leno. Sorry. It’s not that kind of book.)

Monday, Nov. 30, 5-8 pm Local Author Spotlight Booksigning Event
Marysville Public Library, 231 S. Plum Street, Marysville, OH 937-642-1876
In conjunction with Uptown Marysville’s annual Christmas Walk

Saturday, Dec. 5, 12-3 pm Multi-Author Booksigning
Barns & Noble, 9455 Civic Center Blvd., West Chester, OH 513-755-2258
“Romancing the Holidays” with 20+ bestselling romance authors

Guest Blogging

Wanna know what I’m thinking about? I’ll be visiting these popular romance and readers blogs on the following dates. Drop by and leave a comment if you can!

Tuesday, Nov. 17 RomConInc
http://www.romconinc.com/index.php/conversations/blog/5

Monday, Nov. 23 Romance Bandits
http://www.romancebandits.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, Dec. 2 Mama Writers
www.mamawriters.com/blog

Wednesday, Dec. 2 Romance in the Backseat
http://www.ritbs.blogspot.com/

Online Interview

If you still need more of me, Terry Kate with Romance in the Backseat will be posting an interview with me (from the cyber-backseat and not the real one, unfortunately) on her site Nov. 29-Dec. 1st. http://www.romanceinthebackseat.com/

More to Come

DAMSEL IN DISGUISE will be my next release, scheduled for August 2010. It follows the story of one of the characters from MISTRESS and I hope readers will be excited to find out what happens next. A “teaser” for it is included at the end of MISTRESS and I’m very eager to introduce that fun, slightly more suspenseful story.

Free Stuff!

If you email me with the correct answer to the following question before Nov. 30th, I’ll put your name in a drawing. On Monday, Nov. 30th, I’ll randomly draw a name and contact you if you win!

The Prize? A twenty-five dollar gift card to Barnes & Noble plus an autographed copy of MISTRESS BY MISTAKE.

The Question? How many stars did RT Reviews give me in their recent review?
(Hint: the answer’s right here in the newsletter somewhere!)

Happy Holidays!

If you don’t hear from me before the holidays, may they be joyful and full of fun. Until my next, second-ever newsletter, I hope your life is never too busy for love!

Love's Funny Sometimes

So, I was taking a shower the other day (I do that periodically) and I had this really brilliant idea for brushing off the old, dusty, pitifully neglected blog here and making it sing. It was going to be a really great idea, something that would provide me endless blog topics and plenty of room to let my natural wit and bubbling charm flow over and out into the world. People would come flocking to my blog and would read, walking away with smiles on their faces and insight in their heart.

But then my daughter came in crying because her pet rat suddenly died and I got out of the shower amidst that chaos and was thrust into action as Brave and Stoic Mom who gives hugs, dries tears, recites platitudes, answers deep theological questions, digs holes, and pulls shoe-boxes / coffins out from under her bed just when they are all needed most.

By the time the drama was somewhat at low tide I had forgotten my brilliant, witty blog idea. Rats. Oh, sorry. That mild exclamation was probably in bad taste, given the previous paragraph.

But it has been far too long since I’ve tended the blog. Facebook and Yahoo! Groups have seen plenty of me, however. I do have intentions of resurrecting the old blogspot, though, so perhaps I will. All I have to do is remember that shower idea.

I do recall, fortunately, that it was about Love. Since I write romance novels I figured that topic was appropriate. So, I’ve updated the site to reflect my new goal of blogging about the many splendors of Love. Primarily, I’m planning to explore the particularly laughable splendors of it.

You see, I do believe that Love IS Funny Sometimes. What I need now is some examples of that. You know, some of those funny little moments where if it wasn’t for Love you’d probably pull your hair out or just go flipping crazy. In my life, it’s not really a question of thinking up examples of that but more like slogging through the veritable swamp of them and picking just one or two to highlight here.

So, that’s what I’ll be doing. At some point. Maybe. Doesn’t that sound like a brilliant idea for a blog? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

The Bride Can't Cook

So, have I mentioned that I write? I do. Romance novels, mostly. I’ve titled this blog after my most recently completed manuscript, “Mistaken By Moonlight” since that’s the one that’s been getting all the attention lately. I’ve posted a blurb over there on the right side—check it out.

You’ll notice it’s set in Regency-era England. It is, and that’s my fave time period to read about. Obviously I enjoy writing about it, too.

But I’m not stuck in the past. I have also written a couple manuscripts with contemporary settings. Today I’m blogging about one of them, “The Bride Can’t Cook.”

This is the story of Marti and East, former Best-Friends-With-Benefits who must overcome Marti’s unfortunate knack for kitchen disasters to win a state-wide cook-off and save her Granny’s Diner.

Mixed in are plotlines involving Marti’s passion as an Environmental Biologist, Granny’s geriatric meddling, a married couple with a pyro-maniacal little boy, and our hero’s fried chicken phobia that would make even Colonel Sanders shudder. It’s a recipe for ruin but through it all Marti and East cook up a happy ending.

I had a lot of fun writing it. I’d spent a year writing two other historical romances that really weren’t all that great. An insightful critique partner said, “You’ve got a modern voice. You ought to try contemporary.” So I did. “The Bride Can’t Cook” was my second attempt at that. I learned some surprising things!

First off, when you’ve been writing stiff, historical language and plotlines that can involve no electricity or mass communication, the switch to modern language and familiar appliances is very freeing. Wow, I could be wittier and cleverer in my own native tongue! And it was sooo much easier to get into my character’s heads, since now I lived in the same would they did. I had a blast being back in my own lifetime and wrote two Single Title manuscripts back to back, “Thanks for the Mammaries” and then “The Bride Can’t Cook”.

But I also learned something unexpected. I thought there’d be less research writing contemporary. Heck I already know how we speak and what sort of clothes we wear. What is there to research? Ah, I learned. Writing these Contemporaries I was bound by reality. Ugh. I’ve tried so hard to avoid reality for much of my life, but now I was trying to profit from it? Not as easy as it sounds.

In both manuscripts, my heroines chose a career I was unfamiliar with so I had to hit the library and the internet, studying up to at least fake it believably. It dawned on me that what I wrote about with these Contemporaries was much more relevant to a wider range of readers. I’d really have to be accurate on the details since EVERYONE knows about modern day life, while those who might find the odd anachronism in my historicals are fewer. At least, I hope they are.

After “The Bride Can’t Cook” I returned to my first love and crafted another Regency-set Historical. It was nice to be back in that fantasy world. Sure, I had to re-learn the dialog cadence and re-remember if an Earl outranks a Marquise (he doesn’t, by the way), but it wasn’t that much of stretch.

Jumping back and forth between eras, I’ve learned one thing; people are people. The same emotions and fears that motivate my 19th century characters will just as easily motivate my modern ones. That much requires no research. In all my writing I try to convey the universal longings we all feel, the hopes and fears—and passions—that are common to everyman. Really, the only research it takes for that is living.

I’ve never been seduced by a Regency lord, but I have fallen in love in the moonlight. I’ve never been an Environmental Biologist, but I have been a bride. And I couldn’t cook, either. Some things are universal and timeless. Love and laughing are top of the list.

Who the heck am I?

My mother named me Susan after the actress Susan Hayward. I always thought that was flattering until I actually grew up and caught a couple of the woman's movies. She was elegant, sophisticated, and seemed to have an unnatural talent for portreying dramatic deaths, as I recall. I understood then why I'd always had this feeling I wasn't quite what my mother had hoped for. Unlike Susan Hayward, I was boistrous, awkward, grossly naive, and had an unnatural talent for keeping frogs in the bathtub. Unauthorized frogs, I should add.

But did you know Ms. Hayward was actually born Edythe Marrener? I guess I should be thankful she chose a stage name! Then again, as I scan the Romance shelves at the bookstore, I don't see nearly as many Edythe's as I do Susan's. Or Suzanne's or Sue's or Susanna's or some other variant of the name. If Ms. Hayward had gone out into the world as Edythe, perhaps I would be Edythe today and not feel myself such a part of the crowd.

But I gave up trying to be a part of the crowd way back in high school when I realized I was still too boistrous, still too awkward, still way too naive, and still had an unnatural affinity for catching frogs. No way was I ever going to fit in with those more normal individuals around me who comprised "the Crowd".

Now it feels unnatural for me to find myself just one amongst many.

Oh, there are some great Susan's with our name plastered proudly on book spines, and maybe that's my problem. It irks me that it is their name and not mine I see on those shelves. I'm jealous, I suppose.

But I also want to be unique. I want my name to conjure all sorts of wonderful things that lead people to think of only me, not any of the other fine Susan's of the world. Perhaps young Edythe Marrener felt something like that when she adopted her new moniker. Or perhaps her studio said, "Here's your new name. Get used to it." Either way, it seemed to work for her.

So how to I transition from being Susan Number Whatever to being (insert fabulous pen name here)? First, I suppose, I need to come up with said fabulous pen name. That's the tricky part, isn't it? I've been asking around for advice and here's what I've heard:

Many authors have chosen their pen name based on some beloved nickname they have. Well, I haven't got any of those. My husband calls me Susan. My sisters call me Susan. My kids try to call me Susan and I scold them. Occassionally folks drop off the -zun part and I end up just being Sue, but that really doesn't take me very far from the trouble. I'm still in the Susan Family.

In junior high some boys in my neighborhood had a nickname for me. They called me "Raisin". I didn't like it. There used to be a commercial on TV about the raisins in a certain cereal. According to the earnest announcer, these raisins were always "plump and juicy." Hence my nickname. I wished to be neither plump nor juicy. (Remember, I was hopelessly naive and failed to recognize that those boys may possibly have not been insulting my physique quite so much as my purpose in life, but either way, it was a yucky nickname.)

Another technique authors use in seaching for a pen name is to consider family names. Their own maiden name, their mother's maiden name, Grandma's name, etc. So, I did this, too.

My maiden name is Gee. Pronounced like the letter of the alphabet. It sounds Chinese, though I'm not ethnic in any way. My mother's maiden name is Stickradt; it's prounounced like "stick-rat". Yeah, I crossed that off my list pretty quickly.

My maternal grandmother's maiden name was Deike--sounds like, er, "like." Not that there's anything wrong with it, but that's not exactly the sort of Romance I write. I'm looking for something a bit more evocative of my chosen genre.

So, I'm on the prowl to reinvent myself. Any and all suggestions are welcome. I'm hoping one day something will just leap out and grab me, sweeping me passionately into its embrace and convincing me unequivocably this is who I should be.

Until that happens, though, I'll just go on being Susan. It's a good name; a familiar name; a respectable name. But for some reason, no one expects a Susan to have a tub full of frogs in her bathroom, do they?

When the Make-Up Gets Scraped Off

Well, the photo shoot was a blast. I know I'm not supposed to admit to such vanity, but come on. How can I not love being the center of attention? There were bright lights aimed on me and a man pranced around with a camera in my face saying, "Work it, baby, work it! Aw, the camera loves you, honey!" (So what if I had to pay the guy a little extra to say all that? He was fairly convincing.)

Now if I can figure out how to do it, I'll post a new photo here at this exciting blog site. I'm sure the suspense will be maddening, but try to restrain yourself.

After the hour was over and we'd filled the memory card in the camera--and the photog graciously photoshopped A LOT--it was sadly time for me to retire from Supermodel-hood. I hurried back to pick up my kids from school. The ball was over. Sigh.

The kids didn't really care how much time I spent on make-up; they were hungry. They wanted entertainment. They needed to tell me how unjustly they'd been treated all day long at that horrible institution of learning. I figured life would be easier if their mouths were full.

So, we hit MacD's and went home where I scraped off my make-up and tripped over a pile of laundry. I spent the next hour sorting underwear.

Yep, so much for Cinderella. I was back to being the ugly step-sister.

But not really. The clock might have struck twelve, but it hadn't erased my memory. I knew what I'd been up to that day.

For just a little while I was 17 again, posing for senior pictures and imagining the wonderful life ahead of me. For just a little while I was a star, strutting my own personal red carpet, beaming at an adoring public. For just a little while I was more than I usually am. And sometimes that's enough.

I don't know how long it will be enough, but for a while I'll have a little more mischeif in my smile and a little more pep in my step. I have a little more hope, too, because I've been reminded of something I must have forgotten: that big bag of make-up is still waiting there, under my sink. I can trowel it back on anytime I want.

Just because I may choose not to TODAY doesn't mean I might not choose to TOMORROW. Cinderella is still lurking there, just waiting for the next ball to come around. And it will; it always does.

ASHD--Attention Surplus Hyper-commitment Disorder

Hello. My name is Susan and I suffer from ASHD--Attention Surplus Hyper-commitment Disorder. It's chronic. It's incurable. It makes you insane.

An April Fool's Joke, you might be thinking? Perhaps. Or is ASHD real, and could you yourself be a victim? You be the judge.

ASHD makes sufferers do things a normal person would have the good sense to avoid. Major symptoms of ASHD are: chronic volunteerism, over-extended calendaritis, and throat spasms that continually form the word "Yes". Worse, the disorder affects cognitive capabilities, as well. Often victims are found to have an absolute incomprehension of simple facts, such as that there are but 24 hours in a day and that most humans possess only two hands. Tragic.

For me, ASHD manifests iteself in a variety of ways. Today it's making me prepare for our first day of Drama Club rehearsals at the kids' school. I'm in charge. Of everything. I'm insane.

Fortunately, I'm not alone in my disease. Several other women I know suffer this same disorder. We're using Drama Club as our support group. Twice a week from now until the end of April we'll get together and feed our disorder, volunteering for this, spear-heading that. We'll become the virtual servants of 50 screaming children, all of whom feel their role is too small and their talent is too great. And this is not even taking into consideration the various parents of said screaming children. Indeed, we'll find all sorts of dysfuncions to cater to there!

If you have never suffered from ASHD, be thankful. Enjoy your peaceful, chaos-free life. Take the time now and again to laugh at those who do suffer. Go ahead. We won't mind.

Heck, we probably won't notice. We're too busy managing our disorder, making things happen and assuring that non-sufferers enjoy fun-filled, excitement-rich lives. I know, I know. That's very gracious of us, but that's what we do. It's part of the disorder. Don't bother to send a thank you card, though. I won't have time to open my mail until halfway through May.