Just another Monday?

Monday, Monday. The start of the work week. There are songs written about it. People dread it, especially after a long weekend. My weekend started out with a hurricane, but fortunately Arthur blew away. Our city postponed the firework display even though Friday was a beautiful day.

Growing up, the 4th of July was more than just our country’s birthday, it was my youngest brother’s, who was quite a bit older than I was. We lived on top of a hill and from our back porch we could watch at least 5 different displays from various locations and townships around us. It was always a fun day that came with birthday cake!

I can also remember the things that went horribly wrong. The time my “birthday” brother visited me and began to complain it was too hot in my house. We’re Yankees, but I was living down here and and had grown used to the south’s heat. He turned my AC to full blast and it instantly died! It was 104 F in the shade. It was horrible. He wasn’t sticking around for that heat so he left, leaving me with his cake that had sparkler candles, and the big meal.

Then there was the fourth when the toilet stopped up. Except it wasn’t the toilet, but we didn’t know that. My husband stood there with the snake to clear the clog and looked at the bowl. My brilliant comment was oh, pull the bowl. It’s a 89 cent wax ring. Five thousand dollars later, I got a new bathroom and the city had to redo the pipes in the street. It was their problem causing the clog, but we had another one in the bathroom floor!

But there we were on the Fourth of July carrying a toilet into the backyard like a couple of hillbillies while our neighbor threw one of the biggest parties of the year at his house. The kind where there isn’t a parking spot for blocks. They have five big grills going in their backyard, including ours. We’re waving and smiling as we drag tools in and more bathroom stuff out of the house. The backyard smells if hamburgers, ribs, and chicken. My bathroom smells like sewage! Oh, it was not pretty!

But after the fun, things always returned to normal. I’m still not certain what normal is. Back to the old routine? I’d hate to think our lives are totally meaningless walks through life, where every day we repeat the same tasks. In a way the days are, but in so many ways even doing the same thing over and over, it’s not really the same. There would be no progress if it were exactly the same.

But we do like to escape! And we can’t always run far away or watch fireworks. Instead, we pick up a book and read. Escaping into a story is always fun. For a half hour, two hours, or even several, long evenings, we can submerse ourselves into some other place and be someone else. It’s an escape from the ordinary, the heat, the sewage-clogged drain pipes, or whatever else comes out way.

Do you know what it takes to write a book? Every author has a slightly different method but in general, it starts with an idea. Some folks plot and plan and others just start writing. That’s the easiest part of writing. Writing it well, takes skill. Once the story is down, the rewrites begin. That’s where the author goes back in and begins to fix things. They add more emotion, description, or anything that they realize lacks in the first draft. Then the manuscript usually goes through some critiquing or to a beta reader. The author fixes things based on the critique or suggestions by the reader.

The book will need a cover. Some authors will make their own or they have a family member who is capable of doing it. It requires some art skills and a computer graphic program to make a good cover. Those who can’t contact their favorite cover art company and have one made. Then the book goes to an editor and sometimes several editors! Each time there’s another tweak to the what is on the virtual pages. Finished? Not yet. Now it must be formatted.  If the author can’t format, it goes to a format company who prepares it for your favorite bookstore.

Now it’s ready to be loaded into the book stores’ systems.

Now times that by eleven! Every author worked very hard to bring you a story in Weddings on Main Street. And Mona, knocked herself out to format all those stories in that book. (Three cheers for Mona!)

Months of work went into these stories. Mistakes were made along the way and new ideas developed. I overshot the word count and wound up with a second story With This Ring. Kelly realized she had the start of a series on her hands.

From a single idea, we managed to bring you a collection of stories. Behind the scenes, there was panic a few times. One author bailed out because of family matters. Several overshot the deadline and still managed to wiggled in. But in the end, the reader is the winner with eleven great stories.

Amazon  B&N   iTunes   Kobo

 

We hope you grab your copy of Weddings on Main Street and read all the stories. Each is different and will have you traveling from Eastern Canada down the coast, then to the boggy bayou, over to Texas, into the Rockies, and all the way to California and further north.

Each story can be read in an evening. That gives you eleven nights of pure enjoyment or eleven lazy afternoons. If you loved the book, drop a review wherever you bought it. Good reviews mean the world to us.   

And don’t forget about my other  novel, With This Ring. It’s available on Amazon.  And if you love a particular author in the boxed set, search out all of her books!

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Plus… I have another River City novel, Campaign, that should release this week.

Here’s a snippet of Brad and Ryn when when finally get to see each other at the airport.

Excerpt:

Ryn watched Brad furrow his brows. She grabbed her keyboard, her thumbs flying over the tiny keys, “I’m mute.”

Again, he pushed the screen away without looking at it.

She closed her eyes, reached up, and slightly tugged the scarf around her neck, revealing what was left of the scars that crossed her throat.

When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. The color had drained from his face. The slight shake of his head told her that he now recognized the situation, and it was slowly sinking in. Once again, her thumbs flew over the keyboard, “I thought you knew.” She gazed up at him hoping to find some sort of acceptance. “It’s ok. The only thing I can’t do is talk with sound.” She forced a grin. “Remember when I asked you if you knew sign language, and you said you had learned a little bit when you were a kid?” She typed with lightning speed. “Remember I told you that you needed to brush up?”

“I thought it was a joke.”

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