<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105</id><updated>2012-02-03T05:00:08.559-06:00</updated><category term='childhood'/><category term='Jane Austen'/><category term='illness'/><category term='black'/><category term='movies'/><category term='books'/><category term='Amazon'/><category term='Rocky Horror Picture Show'/><category term='Plot holes'/><category term='stowaway'/><category term='KYRW'/><category term='Michael Blake'/><category term='nature'/><category term='TMP'/><category term='shampoo'/><category term='candles'/><category term='polishing'/><category term='tragedy'/><category term='grandparents'/><category term='bookstores'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='mystery'/><category term='heroine'/><category term='youth'/><category term='Castaway Hearts'/><category term='video'/><category term='Emerald Isle'/><category term='rework'/><category term='National Center for Family Literacy'/><category term='worst'/><category term='Faith'/><category term='Taryn Raye'/><category term='procrastination'/><category term='National Novel Writing Month'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='The Ben Taylor Band'/><category term='blogs'/><category term='eBook'/><category term='humor'/><category term='romance'/><category term='future'/><category term='V.C. Andrews'/><category term='second chances'/><category term='reading'/><category term='allergy/sinus'/><category term='blue'/><category term='advice'/><category term='secrets'/><category term='Muses'/><category term='divorce'/><category term='Turquoise Morning Press'/><category term='Great Pumpkin'/><category term='Denise Miller'/><category term='cats'/><category term='lotion'/><category term='Stephen King'/><category term='Bruce and Carole Hart'/><category term='TBR lists'/><category term='Serenity'/><category term='Yasmine Galenorn'/><category term='zoning'/><category term='c'/><category term='book trailer'/><category term='Accomplishment'/><category term='FAQs'/><category term='1970s'/><category term='James Taylor'/><category term='FictionWitches'/><category term='Peace'/><category term='editing'/><category term='flowers'/><category term='NCFL'/><category term='love'/><category term='vineyards'/><category term='pet'/><category term='romantic comedy'/><category term='Alaska'/><category term='classics'/><category term='answers'/><category term='Kindle'/><category term='trust'/><category term='perseverance'/><category term='inspired'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='Technology'/><category term='best'/><category term='starting over'/><category term='sea'/><category term='Intimate Wish'/><category term='drive'/><category term='deception'/><category term='Family'/><category term='beach'/><category term='teenage angst'/><category term='Word Count'/><category term='twists'/><category term='revisions'/><category term='novel ideas'/><category term='change'/><category term='perfume'/><category term='sailing'/><category term='F.L. Bicknell'/><category term='wine'/><category term='book covers'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='good times'/><category term='potholes'/><category term='creativity'/><category term='Faith Bicknell'/><category term='gifts'/><category term='NaNoWriMo'/><category term='insecurities'/><category term='memories'/><category term='adaptations'/><category term='writing by the seat of my pants'/><category term='must-haves'/><category term='pen names'/><category term='age'/><category term='Horses'/><category term='productivity'/><category term='edits'/><category term='beauty'/><category term='surprises'/><category term='worst word count'/><category term='cake'/><category term='young adult'/><category term='companionship'/><category term='Encouragement'/><category term='heartache'/><category term='focus'/><category term='excerpt'/><category term='firefighter'/><category term='children'/><category term='determination'/><category term='Exhaustion'/><category term='research'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='author'/><category term='Rex Smith'/><category term='California'/><category term='writer'/><category term='Library'/><category term='Hawaii'/><category term='goals'/><category term='Autumn'/><category term='Ereader'/><category term='getting groove back'/><category term='character-led'/><category term='parents'/><category term='print'/><category term='plotter vs pantser'/><category term='body wash'/><category term='food'/><category term='house cleaning'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='fishing'/><category term='adding'/><category term='scents'/><category term='quirky'/><category term='publication'/><category term='rescue'/><category term='Sooner or Later'/><category term='manuscripts'/><category term='Ruth J Hartman'/><category term='fear'/><category term='sweet romance'/><category term='writing'/><category term='questions'/><category term='first kiss'/><category term='novels'/><category term='Ireland'/><category term='historical'/><title type='text'>Taryn Raye~ Romance Writer</title><subtitle type='html'>Hi there and welcome to one of my blog homes. Here you'll find my thoughts on writing, from the standpoint of a scribbling butterfly who's ready to burst from my cocoon.

As I spread my wings in an attempt to take flight into the writing world, join in my journey of contemplation, highs and lows, successes and failures of a newly signed author.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>355</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-162516097339244946</id><published>2012-02-03T05:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T05:00:08.611-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sailing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Turquoise Morning Press'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sweet romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ruth J Hartman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alaska'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hawaii'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FictionWitches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TMP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stowaway'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romantic comedy'/><title type='text'>Fun Feature Friday- Purrrfect Voyage by Ruth J. Hartman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Purrfect-Voyage-ebook/dp/B004PLNO7Q/ref=sr_1_sc_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1327379128&amp;amp;sr=8-2-spell"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k1YwaMpe1Tc/Tx4ypFiiBzI/AAAAAAAABNw/r9g5ICk-pVI/s400/purrfect_voyage_200_medium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701049859740665650" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Click link above to purchase for Amazon Kindle)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;($3.99)&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Kitty Carter is used to getting into strange situations when she chases her cat, Arthur. But this latest escapade is just too much! When Arthur chases a mouse at the marina while she's doing research for her book, she follows him down the dock and onto a yacht. Not entirely her plan, since she falls down some stairs and hits her head, and wakes to find herself out to sea. And she and Arthur aren’t the only ones on board!  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font&gt;Review&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;“This is a well-written, delightfully charming story with equal time given to Kitty, Arthur and George. It's obvious Ms. Hartman loves cats, and her natural humor makes this sweet romantic story sparkle. Trust me, you'll love the ending.” ~Suzanne Barrett, Romance Author&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;“Ms. Hartman also has a sense of humor. It makes her story fun to read.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt; ~LASR Reviews&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;font&gt;&lt;font&gt;“I loved this book, laughed all the way through it, and look forward to more by this author.”~The Romance Studio&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font&gt;Author Bio:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;font&gt; Ruth J. Hartman is a published author and licensed dental hygienist. She lives in rural Indiana with her husband of twenty-eight years and their two extremely spoiled cats. Ruth’s published works include a memoir, romance novels, and short stories.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-162516097339244946?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/162516097339244946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=162516097339244946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/162516097339244946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/162516097339244946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/02/fun-feature-friday-purrrfect-voyage-by.html' title='Fun Feature Friday- Purrrfect Voyage by Ruth J. Hartman'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k1YwaMpe1Tc/Tx4ypFiiBzI/AAAAAAAABNw/r9g5ICk-pVI/s72-c/purrfect_voyage_200_medium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-5506354446324398072</id><published>2012-02-02T05:00:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T05:00:03.411-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creativity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='surprises'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plotter vs pantser'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='novel ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing by the seat of my pants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='determination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manuscripts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='novels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='character-led'/><title type='text'>Hello! My Name is Pantser</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;From where I sit, I see the mist...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PuuHc3SWiYM/TyBF7xMr_SI/AAAAAAAABP0/a4dMi_CV2pk/s1600/100_9266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PuuHc3SWiYM/TyBF7xMr_SI/AAAAAAAABP0/a4dMi_CV2pk/s320/100_9266.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701634021372198178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was checking out a blog over on &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://freshfiction.com/page.php?id=3916"&gt;Fresh Fiction.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;because of an interview &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Joan Swan&lt;/span&gt; (a debut author of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/0758266383?tag=freshfiction-20&amp;amp;link_code=as3&amp;amp;creativeASIN=0758266383&amp;amp;creative=373489&amp;amp;camp=211189"&gt;Fever&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; due out at the end of February) was having with Cindy Gerard for a discussion on setting goals and having a book giveaway. I left no comment, as I'm not a registered member. I clicked the link Cindy had posted just to check out what was being discussed and though the book giveaway sounded nice, the thing that stopped me was Joan's take on writing. The very thought has stuck with me for the past few days—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what Joan had to say....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Now, my goal setting techniques are a lot like my plotting techniques.  I write (and set goals) &lt;i&gt;into the mist&lt;/i&gt;.  It's similar to the panster way of writing, but with a tad more structure.  The best way to describe it is that I'm standing a point, looking forward.  I can only see so far—to where the landscape gets a little fuzzy (that's the mist).   I write (or set a goal) to the farthest distance I can see, then set out for it.  I know where I am, I know where I'm headed, and if time is an important factor, I have a rough idea of how long it will take me to get there.   And somewhere, out there beyond my scope of visibility, is an end point.  In a story, that might be the next chapter, the next act or, if we're uber lucky, The End.   It's the same with goals for me. &lt;/blockquote&gt; I really like her take on how she writes &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;into the mist&lt;/span&gt;. I am a bit more structured when I write, too, though I don't plot at all but I kind of take it as far as I can see into the mist myself and her sentiment really rang true to me, so I just had to share that small gleaning of commonality. Her debut novel also sounds intriguing (title links to the amazon page for it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the first thing this sentiment made me think of was one of my favorite quotes about writing—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~E.L. Doctorow~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S46BautUtJE/TyBH0tCiVRI/AAAAAAAABQA/ravRhTeo0A4/s1600/foggyroad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S46BautUtJE/TyBH0tCiVRI/AAAAAAAABQA/ravRhTeo0A4/s320/foggyroad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701636099020051730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="grid_8"&gt;It's amazing how often I forget that other authors out there are really, truly just like me. We all are traveling this road to reach similar destinations and I think we all enjoy our own method of getting there. Just as some cannot type a single word without a clearly defined outline, there are also those of us who want to walk into the mist, taking that mysterious journey with our characters as they make the journey as well. Either way, I think that's what is so exciting for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing revs our engines, fills us with a need for the adventures that lay ahead and whether we use a road map or just jump in the car and drive with only a few little clues as to where we're going, we still know we're going to make it to our chosen destination just the same, with all the little bumpy scenic routes along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This felt very appropriate for this blog today— Into the Mystic—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gVAnlke_xUY" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="quotecontent"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Here's to lovely travels today my friends.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stop by tomorrow to check out what's on the roster for&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fun Feature Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-5506354446324398072?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/5506354446324398072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=5506354446324398072' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5506354446324398072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5506354446324398072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/02/hello-my-name-is-pantser.html' title='Hello! My Name is Pantser'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PuuHc3SWiYM/TyBF7xMr_SI/AAAAAAAABP0/a4dMi_CV2pk/s72-c/100_9266.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6016302272367656858</id><published>2012-02-01T05:00:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T05:00:04.232-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creativity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='author'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FAQs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='focus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='answers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='editing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='productivity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='revisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='determination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='getting groove back'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manuscripts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='character-led'/><title type='text'>WIPlash Wednesdays-Question from Marlo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WIPlash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;....it's what I get when I work with on my current novel(s)-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike the real word "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;whiplash&lt;/span&gt;"- I'm putting a new spin on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WIP= Work In Progress&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lash- the flexible part of a "WIP"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Wednesdays are also flexible. They're not quite so stressful as Monday, but not nearly as exciting or as looked forward to as Friday and the weekend. It's a nice little in-between to take inventory of where you've been and where you're heading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8uVACiYTjbk/Tx7cXybcHHI/AAAAAAAABOg/O1ZTzYyZbsI/s1600/100_9747.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8uVACiYTjbk/Tx7cXybcHHI/AAAAAAAABOg/O1ZTzYyZbsI/s400/100_9747.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701236479529589874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WIPlash Wednesdays&lt;/span&gt; will be that place for me in my writing. It will be a day to take inventory of what I've done on my current manuscript, whether it be writing, editing, or whatnot. It will also be a nice place to just answer questions from friends and family about my life "as a writer." Questions that other writers also get from family and friends or curious strangers and their readers. Eventually I'll probably pool all the questions and my answers into a FAQs section on my website, but for now, I'll just be flexible and go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully soon though, I'll be adding word count to my meter again(I added 3,046 new words to my WIP just the other night), working through various manuscripts, and talking again about the thrill and excitement of creating, of actually getting words on paper (or on screen, as the case may be.) I have more stories to tell and many miles to go before I sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's WIPlash will include a question from one of my friends on FB. Of course, as my fellow writers can attest, these questions remain the same, but the answers are usually as personal and as individual as the writer who answers it and those answers vary tremendously among all of us in the writing industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my take on one question. I think I'm going to get long winded on this question, so bare with me. Other questions will follow on other WIPlash Wednesdays in the coming weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;From Marlo- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" jsid="text" class="commentBody"&gt;I've always wondered how writers come up with their characters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My characters come to me in a variety of ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catherine, from&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt;, came to me via, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;of all things&lt;/span&gt;, a Myspace background in 2006, which I'll touch more on when I post my blog in a few weeks that introduces her. (not sure who this image actually belongs to, but this is where Catherine really started to come to life in my mind)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6kBC-mHloDo/Tx7hTvB3buI/AAAAAAAABOs/bQZUDar-SDY/s1600/GHOSTLYSHIPANDBRIDE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6kBC-mHloDo/Tx7hTvB3buI/AAAAAAAABOs/bQZUDar-SDY/s320/GHOSTLYSHIPANDBRIDE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701241907455684322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See, though the story came to me via this "black &amp;amp; blue" image, Catherine Barrett had actually existed on paper since I was a teenager. I wrote what I considered the introductory couple of pages—just one sheet, front and back, but I never got any farther than her stepping up the planks of her grandfather's ship. I knew the story was historical, I knew she was going to sail away to a new world she was not accustomed to, but I hadn't yet dreamed what that story would possibly be. The image above helped bring Catherine from my past to the present. It haunted me as I'd lay down to go to sleep at night. This girl was so forlorn, so heartbroken and I knew the ghostly ship meant something, but what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what of all the other characters? Some were born when I gave them names, and their personalities bloomed from there. Literally. Others, names just came to me and I just already knew what kind of person they were and still others, a name has come to me, but they are playing coy and keeping their secrets about themselves a mystery for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my Love By series, the four sisters originally started out as individual book ideas, single titles. There wasn't going to be a series, but their names all seemed "flowery" and this formed a synapse in my brain that said they HAVE to go together, those characters are SISTERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some authors name characters and give them characteristics based on their names, the origins of the names, based on the cultural and ethnic backgrounds of their characters but I go on gut instinct a lot in choosing names. The wrong name can make or break the character, or do little more than create a block when it comes to writing them as they should be. The right name that suits a character feels like it fits them like a second skin, blends with who they are and makes writing and reading them a pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tune in next Wednesday for more and questions from Mary Ellen &amp;amp; Katie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Feel free to leave me more questions in the comments here at anytime.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be happy to answer them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;Happy Hump Day! I can see the weekend from here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6016302272367656858?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6016302272367656858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6016302272367656858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6016302272367656858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6016302272367656858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/02/wiplash-wednesdays-question-from-marlo.html' title='WIPlash Wednesdays-Question from Marlo'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8uVACiYTjbk/Tx7cXybcHHI/AAAAAAAABOg/O1ZTzYyZbsI/s72-c/100_9747.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-7161569381995805920</id><published>2012-01-31T05:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T05:00:03.613-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Taryn Raye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='excerpt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Turquoise Morning Press'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beach'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Horses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Castaway Hearts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first kiss'/><title type='text'>First Look: Castaway Hearts Excerpt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OHf8K-WR1U0/TxmV8-0xkaI/AAAAAAAABE0/o4KNsU0X0lI/s1600/Castaway_SM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; 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text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;“I wanted to give Gypsy a breather and have a smoke.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Dawson eyed Catherine and consciously laid one arm across his lap to hide his arousal though it was too dark for her to see. He watched her circle him with Willow, her eyes burning into him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;“Oh, come on, old man. That mare has more energy than you do. She’s prancing. She wants to run wild and free, too.” Catherine chided him and threw her hair back off her shoulder. Indeed Gypsy pranced, antsy for motion, to barrel down the beach and let loose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;“That’s quite all right. She can stand still for a moment. It won’t kill her.” Dawson cleared his throat and drew on his pipe before he continued. “As for me being an old man, you would be wise to watch your tongue, young Miss. I could turn you over my knee without difficulty and spank you for that sassy mouth of yours.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;He wasn’t sure where the threat came from. Catherine’s reaction equaled his surprise at the reprimand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;“Turn me over your knee?” Catherine laughed aloud, the sound like tinkling bells. “You would have to catch me first, &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;old man&lt;/i&gt;.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;He could not resist the challenge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;He tapped the embers from his pipe onto the ground and nudged Gypsy. Catherine regarded his every move as she took note of his intention and prodded Willow’s sides to gallop off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Dawson gave way to the chase and followed her down the shoreline and out of the alcove. He came up on her left with lightning speed and grabbed her reins, pulling both horses to a sudden jolting halt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Sliding off his horse with one smooth fluid motion, he snatched Catherine down from Willow as he did. Her laughter peeled away into the night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;His arms stole around her waist as his lips came down upon hers. Though the most fleeting of kisses, it was enough to make his blood boil when she didn’t fight him. Instead, she kissed him back with sweet yielding lips that tasted of honey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;When her arms encircled his neck and her delicate fingertips moved up into his hair, it was all he could do not to lay her down on the sand and have his way with her right there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Dawson backed away with haste and shoved her backward in the process, almost knocking her to the ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Oh boy, you’ve done it now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;“Dammit, Catherine…” Dawson drew a ragged breath and walked a few steps away from her. He ran his fingers through his hair. The sensation of her fingers lingering where she had massaged the nape of his neck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;“Did I do something wrong?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Even with his back turned he heard the quiver in her voice, the beginnings of tears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;You want the wrong brother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;. Dawson wanted to scream, but he would be damned if he would ever speak those words aloud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;What kind of fool am I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:150%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;He swore he wouldn’t, not after what happened to Lucinda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 150%; font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;“Get on the damned horse. You’re going home.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-7161569381995805920?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/7161569381995805920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=7161569381995805920' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7161569381995805920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7161569381995805920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-look-castaway-hearts-excerpt.html' title='First Look: Castaway Hearts Excerpt'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OHf8K-WR1U0/TxmV8-0xkaI/AAAAAAAABE0/o4KNsU0X0lI/s72-c/Castaway_SM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8365551399577531927</id><published>2012-01-30T05:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T05:00:12.471-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blue'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='candles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grandparents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='age'/><title type='text'>Memory Lane Monday- Birthdays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qbOsYizCasU/Txzmx9T_C3I/AAAAAAAABNA/vZReat_8VtI/s1600/IMG_5829.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 223px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qbOsYizCasU/Txzmx9T_C3I/AAAAAAAABNA/vZReat_8VtI/s320/IMG_5829.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700684974290570098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My birthday will arrive before I do another Memory Lane Monday, so I think today I'll reminisce a bit about the birthdays I had growing up. I never had birthday parties with friends- well, not the kind my parents planned, though in my teens I did things with friends, but when I was much younger I do remember my grandmother (my mom's mom) always made sure to get me a store bought cake from the grocery. The ones with the shortening frosting and rose buds and fancy piping and the little plastic "Happy Birthday" sign in cursive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She always tried to make sure she got a "black &amp;amp; blue" cake. For some reason, I deemed chocolate worthy of that distinction, even with the mixed vanilla and chocolate creme sandwich cookies that were always in the cookie jar at my grandparents' house- you know the ones, the grocery store versions that were sort of like Oreos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZxMH1sdafI4/Tx4avQjjnhI/AAAAAAAABNM/6FcSF2Hn8-s/s1600/CRW_3147.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 216px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZxMH1sdafI4/Tx4avQjjnhI/AAAAAAAABNM/6FcSF2Hn8-s/s320/CRW_3147.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701023577497902610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I honestly don't know where I got the idea, but it would seem that "Black &amp;amp; Blue" have been following me for the better part of my life and ironically, I realize now that the majority of my color scheme for this blog, my website, my Twitter profile, my tattoos, are in shades of black and blue as well. Perhaps that is significant in a way I cannot comprehend, but I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I remember about birthdays, most vividly? Whether my parents bought me a cake or my mom baked one- almost always chocolate, if my birthday were on a school morning, my mom would get me up and make me blow out the candles and make a wish before I got on the bus. And I got to eat CAKE for breakfast. (*Flash* to Bill Cosby's "Dad is great, he let us have chocolate cake!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember sharing my "birthday" with my sister, and vice versa—being it was just us two girls, she would get a small gift on my birthday and I would get one on hers in July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At  my grandparents, someone generally gave me birthday spankings, with "one to grow on." I remember the year my parents got me Olivia Newton-John's Greatest Hits Volume 2- I WORE that record out. It skips so bad, especially on the last song- Xanadu. I so wanted to be Olivia when I grew up. LOL I remember my grandparents on my dad's side getting me Sleeping Beauty on Disney VHS and we watched it together and I was SHOCKED beyond measure when Maleficent cursed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 14 or 15 my grandma on my dad's side presented me with a beautifully bound collection of classic novels, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alice in Wonderland, Little Men, Robinson Crusoe, &lt;/span&gt;to name a few, but I believe it was a 10-12 book collection (and perhaps I'll touch back on this set of books in a later blog). I believe that was also the same year she presented me with these two beautiful iridescent cat figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OPzNZisvbU4/Tx4o9aic7TI/AAAAAAAABNk/q1Bt8OS_AQI/s1600/101_1593.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OPzNZisvbU4/Tx4o9aic7TI/AAAAAAAABNk/q1Bt8OS_AQI/s320/101_1593.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701039213858581810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also for my 15th birthday, my parents got me a book of poems called &lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.amazon.com/My-Daughter-Love-Important-Things/dp/1598424629/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1327376891&amp;amp;sr=8-2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To My Daughter with Love on the Important Things in Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by Susan Polis Schutz. My parents wrote a little something inside the book to me and I intend to follow below them, with a note to my daughter and give her that same book on her 15th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was also the same year that my father gave me an autographed copy of&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Country-novel-Bobbie-Ann-Mason/dp/0060835176/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1327377126&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;In Country&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; by Bobbie Ann Mason as a late Christmas present when the construction company he works for built her house. (More on that in a later blog as well.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure every birthday has some significance- something more than just aging another year. Each are special in their own way and each either teach us something new about ourselves as we grow, or they gift us with treasures of the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What do you remember about birthdays you've had?&lt;br /&gt;Are there any that stick out more than others, or that hold a special place in your heart?&lt;br /&gt;Please share!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8365551399577531927?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8365551399577531927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8365551399577531927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8365551399577531927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8365551399577531927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/memory-lane-monday-birthdays.html' title='Memory Lane Monday- Birthdays'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qbOsYizCasU/Txzmx9T_C3I/AAAAAAAABNA/vZReat_8VtI/s72-c/IMG_5829.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1807450269942601732</id><published>2012-01-28T05:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T05:00:00.417-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perfume'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beauty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shampoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='must-haves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heroine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='body wash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scents'/><title type='text'>Man, I Feel Like a Woman!</title><content type='html'>This will be the first of many SCENTsational Saturdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And what are SCENTsational Saturdays?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What makes you feel like a woman? That makes you feel sexy and confident? What are the must-have personal beauty and body essentials that make you feel like the heroine in your own novel? That's what I'll be covering here every Saturday, from my own personal beauty needs- the things that make me feel good and therefore put me in the ranks with the heroines I write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once a month I will share my own personal favorite fragrances and the rest of the time I'll share tidbits about little items and habits I have that make me feel great like I ought to. Feel free to join in and share your favorite things as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;This Saturday, since it's the LAST day of January and intending to include at least 1 of my all-time signature fragrances each month this year, I'll start with my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;#1&lt;/span&gt; favorite perfume-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W6uC1YcmWG0/Txzdve1uaDI/AAAAAAAABMo/UIl369tsXdY/s1600/101_1568.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W6uC1YcmWG0/Txzdve1uaDI/AAAAAAAABMo/UIl369tsXdY/s400/101_1568.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700675036146198578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With subtle tones of flowers like freesia, water lily, Bulgarian rose, blended with vanilla and musk, it's a wonderfully casual, yet romantic scent that lends itself toward the Oriental/Spicy classification of perfumes and colognes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a mainstay in my fragrance collection since I was in my mid-teens, as it is soft and subtle enough to wear anytime of day and I still love it after all these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1807450269942601732?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1807450269942601732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1807450269942601732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1807450269942601732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1807450269942601732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/man-i-feel-like-woman.html' title='Man, I Feel Like a Woman!'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W6uC1YcmWG0/Txzdve1uaDI/AAAAAAAABMo/UIl369tsXdY/s72-c/101_1568.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-7993398034272244414</id><published>2012-01-27T05:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T05:00:11.160-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Turquoise Morning Press'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intimate Wish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='F.L. Bicknell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mystery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faith Bicknell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insecurities'/><title type='text'>Fun Feature Friday- The Most Intimate Wish by F.L. Bicknell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Most-Intimate-Wish-ebook/dp/B0046LVAG2/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1327278512&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CKFmvtK0Jzg/TxypmIvSg8I/AAAAAAAABJ0/ysw983qt-Zk/s400/intimatewishfinalbicknell_200x300_medium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700617700990157762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Click above image- $1.99 on Amazon Kindle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Warning: Graphic language and adult situations; intended for age 18 and over.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;All she wants is a husband and family. All they need is for her to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;When Dinah and Jeff move in to be the Wheillercarts’ companions, their lives change for the better and the worse. Dinah loves Jeff, but after five years together, he still refuses to marry her, and Dinah’s dreams of starting a family begin to crumble. Regardless of their hot lovemaking sessions, she fears Jeff is cheating on her. Dinah will do anything to keep Jeff, even if it means sharing him with another woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;However, strange occurrences and a seemingly psychic landlady keep Dinah guessing about her life and relationship with Jeff. And what about the bizarre statue in their landlady’s atrium? Little does Dinah know it holds the key to her most intimate wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;Author Bio:&lt;/b&gt; Faith Bicknell’s work (also known as F.L.  Bicknell) has appeared in a wide range of genres such as Would That It  Were, Touch Magazine, GC Magazine, Ohio Writer Magazine, Waxing and  Waning (Canada), and The Istanbul Literature Review (Turkey) just to  name a few. Faith was a regular contributor to Gent under her pseudonym,  Molly Diamond (&lt;a href="http://www.mollydiamond.com/" target="_blank"&gt;www.MollyDiamond.com&lt;/a&gt;), which she has resurrected and now writes as Molly for her SFR/fantasy titles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;a href="http://faithbicknell.com/"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;She  has also had fiction published in Hustler’s Busty Beauties, Penthouse  Variations, Twenty 1 Lashes, and was a regular contributor to Ruthie’s  Club for three years. In addition, Faith has many e-books and some print  titles published under various pen names with a host of different  publishers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;For two  years, Faith served as the co-editor of The Tenacity Times and she  served as the managing editor for two e-book publishers for thirteen  years combined until she resigned in 2009 to focus on her writing  career. &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://faithbicknell.com/"&gt;http://faithbicknell.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-7993398034272244414?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/7993398034272244414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=7993398034272244414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7993398034272244414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7993398034272244414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-feature-friday-most-intimate-wish.html' title='Fun Feature Friday- The Most Intimate Wish by F.L. Bicknell'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CKFmvtK0Jzg/TxypmIvSg8I/AAAAAAAABJ0/ysw983qt-Zk/s72-c/intimatewishfinalbicknell_200x300_medium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6531737461415941415</id><published>2012-01-26T05:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T05:00:05.692-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Denise Miller'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenage angst'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bruce and Carole Hart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='young adult'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sooner or Later'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rex Smith'/><title type='text'>Sooner or Later (Favorite Book Spotlight)</title><content type='html'>It all started with years ago, with a little known TV-movie from 1979 starring Rex Smith and Denise Miller called—&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000056T4G/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=201&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=0380429780&amp;amp;pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=0WPEK91DPRMNPC3WTXYA"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 216px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C2GY0WXfd8c/TxzLMbYp9kI/AAAAAAAABMQ/3gq_-ixFE5w/s400/SoonerOrLaterDVDCover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700654642714244674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It also starred some, I would assume, pretty big names at the time- Judd Hirsch, Barbara Feldon, Morey Amsterdam, Lynn Redgrave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't discover this movie until I was probably 15 or 16, well into the late 80s, early 90s. I had a weakness for old B-movies and used to stay up and watch them on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;USA's Up All Night with Rhonda Shear&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gilbert Gottfried&lt;/span&gt; on Friday and Saturday nights. Sometimes I could even find a hidden gems on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WGN&lt;/span&gt; at that time of night, as well. There were so many cheesy movies I discovered, like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Getting Lucky, The Girl I Want, &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Summer Job&lt;/span&gt; to name a few. The one that stuck out-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Sooner or Later&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thirteen-year-old Jessie falls for seventeen-year-old Michael after she sees him and his band performing at the mall in Lodi, New Jersey, the same day she had a beauty make-over while out with her best friend Caroline. She never expects to see him again, but when she decides to take guitar lessons---he turns out to be the instructor assigned to her. When Michael doesn't recognize her, she realizes it must have something to do with the fact that she wasn't wearing make-up to her guitar lessons like she was the day they made eye contact while he was performing, so she starts sneaking around and wearing it and Michael starts noticing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Of course, Jessie loves the attention, but when Michael's interest grows, she lies and tells him she's 16 and soon the lies pile high as she creates more convoluted explanations for why he's never seen her at school, etc. Of course, things become more &amp;amp; more complicated and her best friend advises her that "Older boys aren't like younger boys, they're like men, only younger."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In the process of guitar lessons, she also goes with Michael to band practice one afternoon and discovers he's written a song called "Simply Jessie" just for her, and it's made up partly of the chords he's been teaching her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8CaeVAOExh8" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" width="420"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Afterward, she agrees to a date at the drive-in on a night she knows her parents are going out of town to a wedding and will be gone late. The heartache erupts when Michael tries to put the moves on her and she bursts into tears, the truth comes out and he takes her home. Of course, the matter remained, could Michael forgive her for lying to him? Does love conquer all, even age?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As cheesy as it is, I bawled and bawled through that movie every time I watch it, so glad that there was a happy ending but then, I wanted to own the movie. It was one of those rare wonderful guilty-pleasure films that made me want to come back over and over again. It didn't hurt that I thought Rex Smith was just a dream and the fact that the majority of the soundtrack was sung by HIM, just made me love it even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a VCR, but I didn't record it that night and it wasn't like we had a home computer where I could go look it up and find out more, but I kept thinking about it a LOT though and then it happened~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't but a few days after I watched that movie on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WGN&lt;/span&gt; that I went to Rite-Aid to look at magazines and they had one of those swivel wire book rack, so I thought I'd just check out what kind of books they had to offer. Usually they had very little, other than when a new V.C. Andrews book came out and I would purchase it there. I consider it Kismet, fate, what-have-you— but this is what I found-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nQH-8z6J9KM/TxzUP7UYZRI/AAAAAAAABMc/UQVMtqrxYXA/s1600/101_1537.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 222px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nQH-8z6J9KM/TxzUP7UYZRI/AAAAAAAABMc/UQVMtqrxYXA/s400/101_1537.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700664598430508306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On that rack I noticed first one- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sooner or Later&lt;/span&gt; and then I realized, wait, the same/similar girl on the cover of these other two books, so I pick them up and read the blurbs and already my heart was pounding and I was nearly ready to squeal right there in the middle of aisle. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks- I didn't have enough money to buy all three, and those were the ONLY copies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old as I was, I went home and begged my dad to advance me my allowance so I could purchase them before they were gone. And so I did. I cried when I opened the first book, content that I could not only read the story, almost just like it played out in the movie, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Waiting Games&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now or Never &lt;/span&gt;chronicled MORE of Jessie and Michael's story. Still, I longed for the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents tried to get it at a video store, but when asked, it turned out they had one copy, but the owner wouldn't take less than $75 for it because it was such a rare movie. (I've had that kind of bad luck a lot over favorite old movies.) He offered to order my dad a brand new copy for upwards of $90, but that wasn't happening. My mom found out when it was on and recorded it for me one year and gave it to me as a Christmas present. Several years later, I was dating this guy and we went to that same video store and they still had that copy of it. I ask the girl at the counter about it and she called the owner, who agreed over the phone to sell it to me for $10. I was utterly blown away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, a couple of years ago, when all the VCRs in our house started to eat tapes and die of magnetic poisoning, I ordered a copy on DVD for just under $20. I haven't watched it in a while, but, just like my copies of the books are there to read, it's there to watch whenever I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*a side note- Bruce Hart, along with his wife Carole, wrote these books together. Bruce is also most famous for having composed the lyrics to Sesame Street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So, what are some of your favorite books that came to you in an unusual way?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Have you ever discovered a great book simply by accident?&lt;br /&gt;Or is it possible that all the pieces fell in place at just the right time for you to stumble upon it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Please come share your favorites!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6531737461415941415?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6531737461415941415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6531737461415941415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6531737461415941415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6531737461415941415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/sooner-or-later-favorite-book-spotlight.html' title='Sooner or Later (Favorite Book Spotlight)'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C2GY0WXfd8c/TxzLMbYp9kI/AAAAAAAABMQ/3gq_-ixFE5w/s72-c/SoonerOrLaterDVDCover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-752243190356031321</id><published>2012-01-25T00:00:00.017-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T00:00:09.226-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='V.C. Andrews'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worst'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='best'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stephen King'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adaptations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jane Austen'/><title type='text'>Does Action Speak Louder Than Words?</title><content type='html'>There's always that question lingering in the back of my mind when I see that a book is going to be made into a movie. How will it fare when the written word is translated into actions, mannerisms, behaviors? Can actors and actresses pull off the characters? Will the depth of the story be conveyed as well on the silver screen as it is between the pages? Or vice versa? Would the movie better serve the story ran the written word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few that I have both read the book and seen the movie-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Favorites-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dolores Claiborne&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfFU7Wlp_do/Txytv0y8TYI/AAAAAAAABKY/T_HtbOu4IFs/s1600/DCBook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 80px; height: 110px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfFU7Wlp_do/Txytv0y8TYI/AAAAAAAABKY/T_HtbOu4IFs/s320/DCBook.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700622265481973122" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfFU7Wlp_do/Txytv0y8TYI/AAAAAAAABKY/T_HtbOu4IFs/s1600/DCBook.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;I don't remember whether I read the book first or saw the movie, but what I do know is that I feel this was handled well. The touchy subject matter of the story plays out onscreen with real raw emotion and Kathy Bates just happens to be one of those actresses who I seldom thing about, but then I watch a movie with her in it and remember all over again how wonderful she is and how well she adapts to the roles she takes on. Her portrayal of Dolores made the story believable just as easily as reading Stephen's words on the page. Either way, my heart ached for her and her daughter and for the pain that the past caused them both. My favorite line in that movie? Probably every woman's favorite line-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Sometimes being a bitch is all a woman's got to hold on to."&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KSk59tp1f8s/Txytla96HyI/AAAAAAAABKM/4AuTZ0xL0Go/s1600/DCMovie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 86px; height: 113px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KSk59tp1f8s/Txytla96HyI/AAAAAAAABKM/4AuTZ0xL0Go/s320/DCMovie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700622086749953826" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dances with Wolves&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nw-AKq4RcjU/Txyu2Ik2kfI/AAAAAAAABKw/Yq_ubTQScW4/s1600/DWWBook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 69px; height: 116px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nw-AKq4RcjU/Txyu2Ik2kfI/AAAAAAAABKw/Yq_ubTQScW4/s320/DWWBook.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700623473382429170" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I do remember reading this book before I saw the movie. A friend loaned me a copy they had borrowed from a friend of theirs and I read it within just a few days, completely mesmerized by the western frontier, the strange bond between Dunbar and Two Socks and the Sioux, the romance with Stands with a Fist. Before I ever saw the movie, I shed tears too many to count for the struggles in the story. I love the movie just as much now as I did the first time I saw it and thought that Kevin Costner did the author proud in representing what the story was about.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vWJBLsEVG3E/TxywljS-API/AAAAAAAABK8/IX1naJ6p8kE/s1600/DWWMovie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 85px; height: 131px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vWJBLsEVG3E/TxywljS-API/AAAAAAAABK8/IX1naJ6p8kE/s320/DWWMovie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700625387520655602" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;Persuasion&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8aerrX4VsqE/TxzBmJCjjDI/AAAAAAAABLg/2MqwgjEtpX8/s1600/PersuasionBook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 79px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8aerrX4VsqE/TxzBmJCjjDI/AAAAAAAABLg/2MqwgjEtpX8/s320/PersuasionBook.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700644089350032434" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Persuasion, I read after I saw the movie staring Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds, but I found that they too are quite companionable. I will always love Captain Wentworth and his letter to Anne Elliot and the idea that true love really does live on, even when we are apart from the one we love the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am  too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself  to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke  it, eight and a half years ago. Dare not say that a man forgets sooner  than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but  you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never  inconstant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y6wuNrBZECo/TxzBmV_gm4I/AAAAAAAABLo/Ja28NFt4e8c/s1600/PersuasionMovie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 112px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y6wuNrBZECo/TxzBmV_gm4I/AAAAAAAABLo/Ja28NFt4e8c/s320/PersuasionMovie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700644092826917762" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For me- the worst offender-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers in the Attic&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2-wnFC-UclM/TxzC_069pAI/AAAAAAAABL4/aS73IHGddjo/s1600/FITABook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 156px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2-wnFC-UclM/TxzC_069pAI/AAAAAAAABL4/aS73IHGddjo/s320/FITABook.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700645630137705474" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I loved V.C. Andrews novels when I was growing up. I discovered them when I was around 13 or so and I loved the wonderful detail. She was a very talented author, who wove words in a way that put you right in that moment, right there with the characters and made you feel every joy and pain they endured. The book, by all means was more graphic in detail in these "children in jeopardy" sagas, so really, it wasn't any wonder when I accidentally came across the movie, staring pre-Buffy Kristy Swanson as Cathy. I had been devouring every V.C. Andrews novel I could get my hands on for a while and I was excited about the fact that there was a movie, but when I finally watched it, I was devastated that so much had been left out, but also that the movie was not made to be a continuing story, as the books were. I understand why so much was removed, as this story does carry a very weighted storyline, but what saddened me more was that V.C. Andrews herself had say in the production and she had a small cameo as a window washing maid of Foxworth Hall. It fell far short of my hopes for it as no other book-to-movie ever has.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pp6AMEEsHkQ/TxzDABbyVtI/AAAAAAAABMA/arRWbyZZXq0/s1600/FITAMovie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 157px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pp6AMEEsHkQ/TxzDABbyVtI/AAAAAAAABMA/arRWbyZZXq0/s320/FITAMovie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700645633496602322" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's your favorite book-to-movie adaptation? Do you have a pick for YOUR worst? Have you ever seen a movie that was actually BETTER than its book? I would love to hear about it.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy Hump Day!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I can see the weekend from here!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-752243190356031321?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/752243190356031321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=752243190356031321' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/752243190356031321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/752243190356031321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/does-action-speak-louder-than-words.html' title='Does Action Speak Louder Than Words?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KfFU7Wlp_do/Txytv0y8TYI/AAAAAAAABKY/T_HtbOu4IFs/s72-c/DCBook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-425605169383474909</id><published>2012-01-24T00:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T00:00:00.239-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='National Center for Family Literacy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NCFL'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amazon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Family Stories, Family Recipes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-smaHyMXlt3c/TxzAY2FSPtI/AAAAAAAABLI/Hj6swpOU05g/s1600/FSFR%2BFINAL%2BDigital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 360px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-smaHyMXlt3c/TxzAY2FSPtI/AAAAAAAABLI/Hj6swpOU05g/s400/FSFR%2BFINAL%2BDigital.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700642761411280594" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Family Stories, Family Recipes&lt;/font&gt; by Maddie James is a cookbook that combines a love of food, stories, and family in one package. Throughout time, families have brought a rich culture of stories and favorite foods to the table. Part cookbook, part real-life family anecdotes, Family Stories, Family Recipes is a book to warm both your tummy and your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Order Print Version on Amazon &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Family-Stories-Recipes-Maddie-James/dp/1937389588"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;Get it on Kindle &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006EKIAP2/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=201&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=1937389588&amp;amp;pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=0MR4SVYX4095C2S2Z6AT"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I contributed a recipe to this cookbook because I knew that a portion of the proceeds from this book will go to—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The National Center for Family Literacy&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The National Center for Family Literacy (NCFL) is a leading national nonprofit organization with an incredible mission: building a more literate and prosperous nation by helping parents and children learn together. For more than 20 years, NCFL has seen the power of family literacy in action. Since 1989, more than 1 million families have made education and economic progress as a result of NCFL’s work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NCFL is credited with pioneering—and continuously improving—various family literacy models and approaches that improve the lives of our nation’s most at-risk children and families. The organization’s work is frequently cited by mainstream media and academic audiences for its innovation, attention to quality and groundbreaking results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the help of more than 150,000 teachers and thousands of other volunteers, NCFL has evolved its techniques to reach out to and maximize the effectiveness of local programs and organizations. In our work with these groups, we’ve seen how important it is to build community relationships that support and improve learning: from teacher to student, and, most importantly, from parent to child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NCFL uses the strength of families and the flexibility of the family literacy approach to respond to the changing needs and demographics of underserved populations. Literacy initiatives and programs developed by NCFL yield great results on the local, state, and national levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family by family, community by community, NCFL continues to touch lives and provide endless educational opportunities through family literacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;To support readers and cooks everywhere, the author will donate a portion of the proceeds of the sale of this cookbook to the National Center for Family Literacy.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visit NCFL at &lt;a href="http://www.famlit.org/"&gt;www.famlit.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-425605169383474909?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/425605169383474909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=425605169383474909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/425605169383474909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/425605169383474909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/family-stories-family-recipes.html' title='Family Stories, Family Recipes'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-smaHyMXlt3c/TxzAY2FSPtI/AAAAAAAABLI/Hj6swpOU05g/s72-c/FSFR%2BFINAL%2BDigital.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-4983921160863011074</id><published>2012-01-23T00:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T00:00:02.004-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1970s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Memory Lane Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;♫&lt;font style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You musta been a beautiful baby&lt;/font&gt;♫&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(I honestly don't know what happened. LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFrEXThrWxw/Txt6zitMIjI/AAAAAAAABGk/MWhny_gonKg/s1600/ME012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFrEXThrWxw/Txt6zitMIjI/AAAAAAAABGk/MWhny_gonKg/s320/ME012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700284779275756082" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As an exercise in futility, I'm making a blogging schedule and tentatively, Mondays are now going to be "Memory Lane Monday." Each week, I'll post either, pictures from my childhood along with stories of things I remember fondly from my past, or perhaps favorite toys, foods, experiences, places, etc. Some things will probably be fairly obscure, possibly non-existent anymore. Most the toys I grew up with have faded like the old Polaroid photos and book pages, but I want to share things about my life with my readers, fellow writers, family and friends. Sometimes things from childhood disappear for a while, when they get stuffed into the files that represent "non-essential" memories once you're grown. I believe though, that even those memories are part of what shapes us and makes us who we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oagik889F_8/Txt544mVMeI/AAAAAAAABGI/Bd7O_N9YHx0/s1600/ME010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oagik889F_8/Txt544mVMeI/AAAAAAAABGI/Bd7O_N9YHx0/s320/ME010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700283771540287970" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 70's were good to me I suppose and I used to get compared to Shirley Temple a lot as a child because I had a lot of curls in that red hair. My mom repeated the "There was a little girl, who had a little curl" often. I remember being asked to sing "On the Good Ship Lollipop" a lot, as well. Of course, I remember standing on my grandparents couch and my grandmother smiling at me as I sung my version of "Here Comes Petter Hoppingtail." Somehow &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cotton&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hopping&lt;/span&gt; were equivalent back then to me. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oTwbf93lvLE/Txt_NZ_veAI/AAAAAAAABGw/O8nuv77Urvc/s1600/ME6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oTwbf93lvLE/Txt_NZ_veAI/AAAAAAAABGw/O8nuv77Urvc/s320/ME6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700289621660760066" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this very young age, we lived not that far from my grandparents, just down the road really, though from my perspective, it felt like we lived miles and miles away. We had to cross a bridge for goodness sake! It was a small bridge over a creek, but hey, that seemed huge at the time. Even when I was a baby/toddler, we went to my grandparents every Saturday. When I was big enough to run around and talk and my grandma would take us home, I'd run out to my swing set and beg my grandma to "Watch me slide, Grandma! Watch me!" as she got in her car and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdTr5OEOLok/Txt546oUK7I/AAAAAAAABGU/a33Xd0V3AmY/s1600/Me013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdTr5OEOLok/Txt546oUK7I/AAAAAAAABGU/a33Xd0V3AmY/s320/Me013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700283772085480370" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place we lived was called "The Ripy Place" to us, as it had belonged to the Ripy family. My mom loved her moon flowers and I remember my dad mowing the yard in a circle once. Meanwhile, my cousin Bubba (who was a grown up) and I gathered the grass clippings and built rooms and walls so I could play with Little People or something, pretending it was a house with lots of rooms. Maybe we used our fingers to "walk" through like the legs of the people. I can't remember it that clearly, but I do remember it. I remember my cousin Ray(also a grown up) falling off my swing set (though I have seen the home video my dad recorded from that day, though you don't actually see him fall), while I was splashing around in my pool and my mom was nearly due with my baby sister. I had a bunch of little wind up toys that "swam" through the water- fish, dolphins or something- you wound them up and their flippers paddled them through the water. My mom says we got those that day at the Dish Barn. I also had a fat plastic fish and what I remember most about it was that it was bright yellowish orange and red with big puckered up lips and fancy flashy eyelashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of memories from The Ripy Place, even though I only lived there until I was 3 or 4 years old, including the night my mom sat on her bed, which was covered by a chenille bedspread and explained that I had to go stay with my grandparents because she was going to have my sister. I wasn't even 3 1/2 yet, but I remember sitting in one of my little red chairs- it was either the red swivel plastic one or the small red wooden rocker, when she told me the baby was coming soon. That night it stormed that night. Because it was the end of July, my grandparents didn't have any of their winter stoves out, so they simply had a tin pie pan covering the chimney hole. One of my uncles got drenched in rainwater and black soot when it flushed through the chimney and spewed out the hole because of the downpour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked wildflowers out by the road near my grandparents mailbox with my aunt, and even all these years later my mom still teases me about the fact my dad took them to her but they were filled with fleas! The brightest memory from that time? Going with my dad and my grandma to the hospital the day my mom and my sister were coming home. I was too young to be allowed in the maternity ward, so my grandma and I went to the snack machine and got a Hershey's candy bar and a Coca~Cola while we waited and then once we were in the car, I held my sister all the way home in the front seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; 1978 after all- children's car seats were available but the laws were not strict at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Till next Monday~ Have a great week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-4983921160863011074?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/4983921160863011074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=4983921160863011074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4983921160863011074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4983921160863011074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/memory-lane-monday.html' title='Memory Lane Monday'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TFrEXThrWxw/Txt6zitMIjI/AAAAAAAABGk/MWhny_gonKg/s72-c/ME012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8590385892812195762</id><published>2012-01-21T12:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T12:53:09.036-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='companionship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer'/><title type='text'>Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty...</title><content type='html'>Yeah, you know where I'm going with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;♫...little ball of fur...Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr...♫&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say, I'm a fan of The Big Bang Theory, of Sheldon Cooper's strange antics and his bizarre "mother figure" fascination with Penny, the girl across the hallway, who, when paired with his roommate Leonard Hofstadter, make a strange little mother/father/child family dynamic that's cute in its own obscure little way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress...the soft kitty I'm speaking of today is not the one of Sheldon's-sick-so-Penny-must-sing-Soft-Kitty song fame. Nope, it is my own soft kitty, Miscellaneous, aka Mizzy, Moo-Moo, or The Miz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qKADu0WLJ7w/TxrSTftjaqI/AAAAAAAABFo/aX3hTgloBRk/s1600/100_9449.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qKADu0WLJ7w/TxrSTftjaqI/AAAAAAAABFo/aX3hTgloBRk/s320/100_9449.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700099510762695330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mizzy is 9 years old, will be 10 later this year. I got her while I was pregnant with my daughter, who will also be 10 this year. My husband was working a lot of really long shifts of overtime and our schedule with my stepson was 4 days on 4 days off, so I spent a majority of my time alone. It was a very lonely time in my life, if I'm truly honest, because I had moved hundreds of miles away from my hometown, I didn't really know anyone here except for my husband and his son and a few of his relatives, but at best, they were still simply acquaintances, but not friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed my own family and all my friends and we live in the boonies, so that just added to the melancholy. I hadn't yet given much thought to picking up my writing again and pursuing it because I still didn't believe in myself enough and so I found myself isolated and more lonely for companionship than I'd ever been in my entire life. So I asked my husband what he thought of me getting a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we went looking for kittens. I was about 7 months pregnant and we went to a pet store. They had expensive Himalayan kittens and Siamese, but the ones we could afford were all yellow striped or solid, but they had smooshed faces. You know the kind of cats I'm talking about, it looks like someone punched their noses into their face. An overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety came over me and I told my husband I didn't want one of them. We left the building and before I could open my door and get in our, at the time, Safari van, I burst into tears, squalling. My husband asked me what was wrong and I told him,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I don't want ones of those kittens because they're ugly, what's going to happen if our baby's ugly? I'M GOING TO BE A HORRIBLE MOTHER!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried to soothe my worries, but I still felt so guilty for leaving behind one of those kittens. A few days later, a guy my husband worked with called and said his neighbors had some kittens that were about 7-8 weeks old and weaned and asked if we'd want to come out and see them. So we went, way out in the country, further out past where we live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family's children had tentatively named her Jelly because at the time the cartoon PB &amp;amp; J Otter was very popular. I took one look at her and I KNEW she was MY cat. She had the same marble markings as a cat my family had when I was growing up-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had named him Marblehead because of his markings, but somehow he became known as Poo Poo Kitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(see image below)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I6499FcZ8qY/Txr2CDwDc2I/AAAAAAAABF0/GzdIcK8Mcdc/s1600/PooPooKitty2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I6499FcZ8qY/Txr2CDwDc2I/AAAAAAAABF0/GzdIcK8Mcdc/s320/PooPooKitty2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700138793617814370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;He was a good tom cat who showed up one day after Thanksgiving, got treated to leftover turkey and was with our family for about 7-9 years after that, I've honestly lost track. He went outside to take care of his business, but he loved staying in the house and he even had a favorite chair, the yellow floral wingback chair my mom has in the living room. He was smart too, would come looking for you and meow when he needed to go outside. Sometimes he'd disappear for a while, off tomcatting, but he'd come home, until one day he just didn't. We figure he either found a new home or he died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I laid eyes on "Jelly" I knew she was my cat. I held her in my lap the entire way home and named her Miscellaneous—Mizzy for short. I got the idea for the name from a favorite writer, Bonnie McCafferty. She had a book out in the early 1990s called &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Smiling through the Apocalypse&lt;/span&gt;, which was a compilation of articles she wrote for newspapers, I believe. It's a hard to find book, even used copies on Amazon don't have a single image of the cover, though I do have the book. She had a cat named Miscellaneous who passed away, but her articles about her cats, being single, life, her guru, etc, were poignant and moved me and so I was moved to name my cat that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mizzy is a puzzle at times. She still loves to play on occasion, loves the laser pointer we got her. She scoops her cat food from her bowl onto the floor as though her paw is a ladle. In fact, her food and water bowls are divided by my photo shelf in the kitchen for that very reason. When she was little, she would scoop it over into her water bowl, just to leave soggy cat food floating in it and then she wouldn't drink her water at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tries to meow the word "water" when she needs more and also pulls her bowl out into the kitchen floor in my path so I will see it. She loves scrambled eggs and chicken and gets VERY talkative if she smells it. She stretches out on the couch in front of me, belly-to-belly when I'm relaxing watching TV and touches my face with her paw. I swear her purr has gotten louder as she's aged and there are many Saturday mornings after my husband has left for work that the cat nudges open the bedroom door and gets up on the bed to lay with me, purring loudly, pawing and kneading my arm like a kitten at the momma cat's teat. Sometimes I swear she's more like a baby than a cat. She sometimes acts as though she knows what I say to her and I love her for that unspoken sense of understanding that passes between us when she makes eye contact with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's not a great mouser by any means, but I have to admit- she surprised me today. We've had mice issues in the past couple of weeks and I've caught 4 on sticky traps. I hate mice. They're just so nasty. Blech! The thing that got me? I was talking to my mom yesterday and told her that I caught 4 and that Mizzy tried to meow and take wide-eyed credit for the first one, though she had nothing to do with it. I then said, she's not been doing her job as cat of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning she proved me wrong- in the living room beside the recliner was a dead mouse- right next to MY socks I kicked off yesterday evening. If that's not telling, I don't know what is. She had a point to prove either way- Yes, I take back what I said about her not being a good mouser and, it's my understanding that when a cat brings you a present, it's not so much a gift as a "note" about the fact that you, as the human, don't know how to hunt properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yeah, well, I still caught 4 to her 1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8590385892812195762?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8590385892812195762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8590385892812195762' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8590385892812195762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8590385892812195762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/soft-kitty-warm-kitty.html' title='Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qKADu0WLJ7w/TxrSTftjaqI/AAAAAAAABFo/aX3hTgloBRk/s72-c/100_9449.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3038799374132529324</id><published>2012-01-20T08:52:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T09:03:08.946-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='second chances'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deception'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Turquoise Morning Press'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secrets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindle'/><title type='text'>Fun Friday Feature- Secrets by Jan Scarbrough</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Today's Fun Friday Feature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Secrets-A-Novella-ebook/dp/B004HO6464/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1327071064&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mH7PlDKDoPw/Txl_34EaMKI/AAAAAAAABEo/3ZMw_uJ5YLA/s400/Secrets_SM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699727401334485154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(Click image above to go to Amazon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Revised and Updated Edition (formerly titled, A Father At Last)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;How was she going to keep her secret? It had been with her like a living thing for twenty-one years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With  her daughter all grown up and married, single mom Kelly Baron can start  her new life, responsible only for herself. But first she must help her  mother by returning to the small Indiana town she’d fled years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Newly  divorced lawyer, Rob Scott, seeks solace in his small-town roots. The  last thing he’s looking for is a relationship—until he runs into Kelly,  and the secret she’s been keeping.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*******************&lt;br /&gt;I have read this one and loved it. Jan is one of my fellow TMP authors, but also a Chaptermate in the Kentucky Romance Writers (KYRW)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;Reviews&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;Ms. Scarbrough has a way of involving sensuality without going in-depth so that younger readers cannot enjoy the book. --&lt;a href="http://theromancestudio.com/" target="_blank"&gt;theromancestudio.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thoroughly enjoyed this story and felt that I was watching it unfold in front of me as if I was another character in the story. --&lt;a href="http://nightowlreviews.com/" target="_blank"&gt;nightowlreviews.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;With a story that rings so true, the reader will feel like they had heard it at the local beauty parlor. The craft of this author keeps this story novel. --&lt;a href="http://theromancereviews.com/" target="_blank"&gt;theromancereviews.com &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3038799374132529324?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3038799374132529324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3038799374132529324' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3038799374132529324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3038799374132529324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-friday-feature-secrets-by-jan.html' title='Fun Friday Feature- Secrets by Jan Scarbrough'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mH7PlDKDoPw/Txl_34EaMKI/AAAAAAAABEo/3ZMw_uJ5YLA/s72-c/Secrets_SM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6601987970080544217</id><published>2012-01-18T08:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T08:37:01.480-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='book trailer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tragedy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='historical'/><title type='text'>Castaway Hearts Book Trailer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A little project I was up till 1 am working on last night...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KqjSWFH8SPs?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6601987970080544217?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6601987970080544217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6601987970080544217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6601987970080544217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6601987970080544217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/castaway-hearts-book-trailer.html' title='Castaway Hearts Book Trailer'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/KqjSWFH8SPs/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-9202333077682416311</id><published>2012-01-13T22:56:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T12:42:55.870-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ereader'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Library'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bookstores'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yasmine Galenorn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='print'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eBook'/><title type='text'>I Have The Touch</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kindle-Touch-e-Reader-Touch-Screen-Wi-Fi-Special-Offers/dp/B005890G8Y/ref=amb_link_359624142_3/188-3239225-1384340?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=center-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=0T8SZ96PBCV46V5HG4MS&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=101&amp;amp;pf_rd_p=1343125342&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=507846"&gt;Kindle Touch&lt;/a&gt;, that is....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;pictured below&lt;br /&gt; with cover of Suzanne's Late Harvest,&lt;br /&gt; which is the first book I read on my Kindle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RvFlLTBno2M/TxGiAQSL84I/AAAAAAAABEM/QgqW0FliPZc/s1600/101_1530.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 340px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RvFlLTBno2M/TxGiAQSL84I/AAAAAAAABEM/QgqW0FliPZc/s400/101_1530.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697513128855335810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I received &lt;/span&gt;some money for Christmas, so I did the unthinkable- well, at least for me- I bought a Kindle Touch, along with a few new eBooks. I had already been using the Kindle for PC app on my laptop, so this was just a natural progression that I knew I would eventually succumb to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a writer who has always valued the weight of a real book in my hand, the crisp rustle of the pages, the smell of the ink, or better yet,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; the aged aroma&lt;/span&gt;, of a book, I find that print books fill me with this mystical sense that "all's right with the world." The idea of reading books on the computer or an eReader was a foreign idea that, for a long time, I refused to surrender to. I'm not a huge fan of change, so it took a while for me to warm to the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up in the 80's &amp;amp; 90's, when eBooks were not commonplace, or least, not on my radar at all. Heck, my parents didn't even have a&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; HOME&lt;/span&gt; computer until I moved out when I was 20. The very idea of reading a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BOOK &lt;/span&gt;on the computer was as foreign to me as going to Russia or China or Japan. I did &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; speak the language and some ways I just didn't want to. I wanted to cling to the traditional mindset of what constitutes becoming a published author.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, what I understood was my Smith Corona word processor and my 3 1/2 inch floppy disks that housed my stories and which I took for granted, not always saving backup of what I typed. At some point, ol' Smithy gave up on me and started acting wonky, corrupting my disks to the point that printing out saved files looked like alien transcripts from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Planet ShouldaPrintedThatOutToBeginWith&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, all a young writer like myself dreamed of was seeing my stories in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;print&lt;/span&gt;, of grasping  it in my hands in the middle of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Joseph Beth Booksellers&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Waldenbooks&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Barnes &amp;amp; Noble&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Borders&lt;/span&gt;... or even my beloved &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Little Professor&lt;/span&gt; in Frankfort, Kentucky, which no longer exists. In fact quite a few of those brick &amp;amp; mortars are disappearing now and it still saddens me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eagerly looked forward to being able to say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Whoa! This is utterly fantastic! It's real! LOOK! This is MY book!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up longing for that moment. Whether the book succeeded was another story, but that first taste of personal success was borne of my love for reading and the sense of satisfaction of holding my creation in my hands, of whisking through the pages for a favorite passage and feeling that, once in &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;print&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; my words and a story of my heart that I loved so much would be immortalized- captured for eternity and solidified in those pages of that binding. And others might read it and glean some joy and happiness from something that came from ME and my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew of Amazon and I remember when it was just about "books" but of course, in this quickly changing landscape of technology, eBooks were just becoming more the "norm" at the same time I started to come into my own as a writer and that hit on a very personal level. I had put my writing on the back burner for  a decade after Smithy's demise. I think in some ways, I wondered, what's the point if all my hard work is wasted on computer technology that I can't trust? My word processor wasn't much more than a baby version of computers and I'd be damned if I'd trust saving my writing on anything like that, not without printing out huge stacks of cumbersome pages, just to be sure nothing was lost if my computer got sick on me or files were deleted by accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I've warmed to the idea of eBooks more as time has gone on. I've been growing as a writer and a reader, just as eBooks are growing in the publishing industry by leaps and bounds. I'm excited that my first novel will be available in both eBook and print versions. I feel the meshing of the two worlds as they have collided with each other. I don't think print books are the dinosaurs who will become extinct, but I do believe they have to make room for their modern day descendents because change happens and much as we might not like it, it's usually a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to believe that they can walk hand-in-hand in the business though and for me, buying my Kindle Touch didn't change my views about reading books completely in eBook format. There are still some authors I will always read in print, so long as their books are printed. One being Yasmine Galenorn, though I did buy her novella &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Etched-Silver-Otherworld-eSpecial-ebook/dp/B0064W60OI/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1326564646&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;Etched in Silver&lt;/a&gt; for my Kindle, even though I already have it in the print anthology it was originally released in, but that's because I LOVE that story so much I wanted access to it no matter where I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, there are certain book series I will buy in print vs eBook, but I did discover that Kindle has amassed a great collection of "free" books- a lot of them classics, some I've read and some I've always wanted to read, so I downloaded a bunch of those (Jane Austen, D.H. Lawrence, H.P. Lovecraft, etc) as well as books by my fellow authors or authors I've recently discovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I can't believe how much I'm enjoying the freedom my Kindle Touch gives me, to read books away from the computer in a way that doesn't feel like I'm reading on a techie device at all. Much as my former "print books only" self would disagree, I have to say that my purchase was well worth it already and I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy it for a LONG time to come- especially knowing I can tote my "eLibrary" with me anywhere without lugging a dufflebag full of books and yet I'll never be at a loss for some good adventure, mystery or romance. Yeah, that's what I call having the touch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-9202333077682416311?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/9202333077682416311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=9202333077682416311' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/9202333077682416311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/9202333077682416311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-have-touch.html' title='I Have The Touch'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RvFlLTBno2M/TxGiAQSL84I/AAAAAAAABEM/QgqW0FliPZc/s72-c/101_1530.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3422846228564974185</id><published>2012-01-13T10:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T10:38:38.380-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deception'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vineyards'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Fun Friday Feature- Late Harvest by Suzanne Barrett</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;My current read today is- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Late-Harvest-ebook/dp/B004AYDC0M/ref=tmm_kin_title_0/192-5155752-2537919?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&amp;amp;qid=1326305811&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MLqU1iAO6UY/TxBaj2MkygI/AAAAAAAABD0/fRi2HPSEtC0/s400/AMBER_Midnight_front.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697153100513856002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;~Click the image above to go to Amazon~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY:'Times New Roman','serif'"&gt;Kurt  von Daniken wants only one thing from Glenna Ryan: The key to making  Eiswein - Ice Wine. Five years ago, while working at his family's  California winery, she'd begun developing the method to simulate wine  made from grapes gathered after a freeze. Now, when the winery  desperately needs it, the only person who might be able to duplicate  Glenna's process, Kurt's tyrannical Uncle Otto, lies paralyzed by a  stroke and near death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-FAMILY:'Times New Roman','serif'"&gt;Glenna  wants only one thing from the von Danikens: To be left in peace to  raise her son, Robbie, who suffers from a birth defect and needs an  expensive surgery to repair it. When Kurt suddenly appears at her home,  demanding she return to Cresthaven and complete the process, Glenna  knows the money she'll earn by doing so will provide Robbie the  treatment he needs. She also knows she'll risk having her heart broken,  again, by Kurt, the only man she's ever loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what if he discovers  the real reason she left Cresthaven?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;What reviewers are saying about Late Harvest-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rich chemistry and sensual tension between H and h. Plenty of emotional conflict with misunderstandings and secrets from the past to be uncovered. Clear writing, good pacing, and engaging plot." - msreads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Suzanne Barrett crams a wealth of emotion, hard work, and social interaction into this short novel. The descriptions, introspections, and humor (ex. the claws of the kitten making a prick that lets out "pompous hot air") grabs the attention and keeps one reading. Best of all is getting to vicariously experience long-suffering love being rewarded with a magnificent acknowledgement and a promised happy-ever-after."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Long and Short Reviews&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really fine writing, attractive (honest!) characters, even the secondary characters feel like "real" people.... Also great sexual tension and, sigh, a setting to die for and fantasize about. And, well, um, there's the hero, too."&lt;br /&gt;--Amazon reader&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Romance, tears, arguments, tension - both sexual and as a result of conflict, and a happy ending to boot. The story flowed effortlessly.... I truly enjoyed this story and look forward to reading other books by Suzanne Barrett."&lt;br /&gt;--Romancing the Book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"LATE HARVEST is a bountiful feast for an avid reader, a feast to be savored." --Under the Covers Reviews &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...a poignant love story of two people who must come to terms with their past if they have any chance of recapturing the love they once shared. ...a book which will definitely tug at your heart strings.." --The Romance Reviews&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;To check out more about Suzanne Barrett go to her website-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.suzannebarrett.com/"&gt;Suzanne Barrett- Romance Author&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3422846228564974185?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3422846228564974185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3422846228564974185' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3422846228564974185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3422846228564974185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-friday-feature-late-harvest-by.html' title='Fun Friday Feature- Late Harvest by Suzanne Barrett'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MLqU1iAO6UY/TxBaj2MkygI/AAAAAAAABD0/fRi2HPSEtC0/s72-c/AMBER_Midnight_front.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2888234832668467923</id><published>2012-01-06T05:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T17:54:40.107-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starting over'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='divorce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='firefighter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rescue'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quirky'/><title type='text'>Fun Friday Feature- Rescue Me by Jennifer Johnson</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Here's another book for your reading pleasure. I'm reading this one ATM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rescue-Me-ebook/dp/B0041VYMFS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1325748019&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j70jlUMMprk/TwZdS_mMqxI/AAAAAAAABDo/xB4ZMKXI_x4/s400/Rescue_Me_w_Quote_200_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694341359747246866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(click above image to go to Amazon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sitting in front of her parents’ house in a U-Haul truck at midnight,  Amy Mann decides it’s time to break it to them that she’s divorced from  her husband and moving back home with her seven-year-old son, Toby. As  Amy settles into her hometown, she has a plan to get out of debt, get  her college degree, and put her life together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter Captain  Riley Pennimon, local firefighter and superhero to Amy’s son. Riley is  kind, brave, and civic-minded. The captain does not fit into Amy’s  putting-her-life-together plan, and yet he is way too good looking  without a shirt. Much to Amy’s chagrin, Toby decides that Riley is just  what they need for a happily-ever-after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, can Amy make peace  with the demons of her mistakes and let the captain rescue her? And…can  Riley let go of the pain of his past and grab onto the family he’s  always wanted?&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;From reviews: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Chock-full of Southern wit and wisdom, quirky characters who tell it like it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Dialogue and quirky humor make Rescue Me a highly entertaining read!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; Dialogue is fun and the story entertaining with conflict and a warm romance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;You can follow Jennifer on Twitter &lt;a href="https://twitter.com/#%21/BooksbyJennifer"&gt;@BooksByJennifer&lt;/a&gt; or check out her blog &lt;a href="http://jennfrancesca.blogspot.com/"&gt;This is the Life!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2888234832668467923?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2888234832668467923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2888234832668467923' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2888234832668467923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2888234832668467923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-friday-feature-rescue-me-by.html' title='Fun Friday Feature- Rescue Me by Jennifer Johnson'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j70jlUMMprk/TwZdS_mMqxI/AAAAAAAABDo/xB4ZMKXI_x4/s72-c/Rescue_Me_w_Quote_200_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-524155267049118536</id><published>2012-01-04T07:45:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T11:13:52.009-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='goals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='book covers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='novels'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>Gorgeous Novel Cover Helps Ring in 2012!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy New Year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This year started off &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;GREAT&lt;/span&gt;, even before it began. Saturday afternoon, New Year's Eve, I finally got around to checking email and there in my inbox was a message I had been eagerly anticipating. My novel cover for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt; from my publisher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excitement and giggles bubbled to the surface as I opened the email, my husband and daughter eager to see as well. And there it was- BAM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g3O5AQKAuho/TwRpC7vrOcI/AAAAAAAABDc/MmkdyJUkmvU/s1600/Castaway_MD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g3O5AQKAuho/TwRpC7vrOcI/AAAAAAAABDc/MmkdyJUkmvU/s400/Castaway_MD.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693791328021461442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Beauty in blue that brought tears to my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My publisher designed the cover and I probably haven't, and can't, possibly express to her just how much I love it and what a wonderful job I think she did on it. Even now, I'm tearing up again- it comes in waves, laughter and tears of joy at just what a beautiful 1st cover I have and how much more REAL this is all getting for me. I dreamed and hoped and imagined this moment for more than 1/2 my life, and to see it and feel it coming to life before my eyes fills me with so many emotions I have a hard time expressing the joy without blathering on and on, gushing over the cover, squeeing with giddiness and tearing up when the dream crashes into reality all over again, the momentum of happiness swelling in my heart until it overflows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been this wishy-washy mess since Saturday, but it's all good. Monday I took the image file to Wal-Mart and printed an 8X10 and bought a pretty frame, so I can have it where I can see it all the time. It's just SO purty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have shared the cover on Facebook and Twitter already on Saturday, and it is on my &lt;a href="http://authortarynraye.webs.com/upcomingreleases.htm"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;, along with the book blurb, if you'd like to check it out. I can also proudly say that I have &lt;a href="http://www.jimmythomas.com/index.htm"&gt;Jimmy Thomas&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/tnoreen"&gt;Teresa Noreen&lt;/a&gt; on my cover. Absolutely LOVE it and I'm so proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As to this new year- I gave up "resolutions" a long time ago because much as I like to have goals, resolutions feel like goals with little to no wiggle room for Life's ever changing journey and my path might veer off the beaten from time to time and away from the original goal, but I believe that's Life's way anyhow. I do plan to strive toward getting more writing done this year, more editing and hopefully have news on that front more often as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt;' release gets closer. I plan to be BLOGGING more, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one of the reasons I don't blog as much as I used to is because I got it in my head that I can only write about writing on here and I do tend to keep a lot of what's going on in my life more private than I used to, but I think I'm going to change that pattern and try to get back to posting a few times a week. My biggest following and my most active blogging was back when I just wrote to be writing about what was going on in my life, with my writing, and whatever was on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being I'm part of the &lt;a href="http://www.fictionwitches.com/"&gt;Fiction Witches&lt;/a&gt; I will still continue to post my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Fun Friday Feature&lt;/span&gt; books each week, but I'm hoping to think of other things to write about a few other times a week and I'd be thrilled to have visitors to chat with, etc. It's always wonderful to know I'm talking to real people and not just myself. LOL I also need to figure out how to go about doing blog hops, interviews and guest blogging too, for promo. All in due time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do need to find some organization for my writing time versus daily life, as things have been skewed for weeks now since the holidays and I'm eager to find my way back to some sense of normalcy, though I've been doing a lot of thinking about what is "normal" after seeing a fellow author post this little piece of food for thought~&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Why do we strive to be normal? Isn't that setting our standards a bit low?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(thank you &lt;a href="http://www.shanongrey.com/"&gt;Shanon Grey&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this year, I'm going to strive for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;EX&lt;/span&gt;tra- I'm going to expect excellence from myself. I'm going to make it extraordinary and shoot for being exceptional! In all the things I do, I want to go that extra mile, give that extra push and know I gave it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;beyond&lt;/span&gt; my all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How can I fail if I expect more from myself?&lt;br /&gt;If I keep a positive attitude and most of all, stop being the roadblock in my own life, what CAN'T I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-524155267049118536?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/524155267049118536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=524155267049118536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/524155267049118536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/524155267049118536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2012/01/gorgeous-novel-cover-helps-ring-in-2012.html' title='Gorgeous Novel Cover Helps Ring in 2012!'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g3O5AQKAuho/TwRpC7vrOcI/AAAAAAAABDc/MmkdyJUkmvU/s72-c/Castaway_MD.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-5255798911128978882</id><published>2011-12-16T11:45:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T12:24:27.735-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Friday Feature- Kentucky Blues by Cat Shaffer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/Kentucky-Blues-Cat-Shaffer/dp/1935817043/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1323737954&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7Zz6n8Aa44/TuuD4HE3UyI/AAAAAAAABBc/sYo30xjZXfA/s320/final_ky_blues_200x300_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686783954480747298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;What happens when your first love, the one who broke your heart almost 17 years ago, moves in with your mother and the town gossips make sure you catch wind of it? You head home to put a kink in his hose and make sure your Mom isn't having a mid-life crisis affair with the one man who's ever had your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As chummy as Sam and her mother are together, Elise soon finds out that perhaps things aren't always what they seem, especially when everyone's keeping secrets, old and new. 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 &lt;/span&gt;Cat Shaffer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.catshaffer.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt; line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;www.catshaffer.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Published by Turquoise Morning Press&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;www.turquoisemorningpress.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Blurb: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;Elise Drummond never forgot her first love—and never expected to learn via the grapevine that he was back in Brookville and living with her mother. Sam McCade had broken her heart, and she wasn’t about to let him destroy her mother’s as well. A quick trip back to Kentucky to lay down the law and she could head back to the safe life she’d built for herself in Kansas City.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;"&gt;When Sam McCade went “on the run” in the middle of the night to save his sister from her abusive husband, there was only one person he could trust to help them, Hannah Drummond. He expected the local gossips to have a field day with his return to Brookville, but he never dreamed Elise would roll into town to check out the situation for herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;And he certainly never imagined that in order to save his sister, Elise would be willing to sacrifice herself as the pawn in a dangerous game of catch the monster when his brother-in-law decides to take back what he wants—no matter who stands in his way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;I can honestly say this story held my attention from the first moment I pulled it up on my Kindle for PC- I started it one night and finished it the next morning. It's a quick but wonderful read and Cat has an amazing way with description that sucks you right into the story. I'm proud to be able to call her my Chapter mate in KYRW and a fellow TMP-pubbed author. She'd definitely good writing company!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;I will say this- It was as if I were there in the backyard when Sam's tilling the flowerbed for Elise's mother and Cat set the scenes perfectly. As someone who lived near Lexington the majority of my life and know that gorgeous rolling countryside of Central Kentucky and love it with all my heart and soul, I have to say she hooked me from the beginning. I still live in Kentucky, but further south and she had me homesick for the small town atmosphere, the sense of love and togetherness of being close to my family and friends and my roots, she had me missing those trips to Joseph Beth Booksellers and the aromas of books and paper and fresh brewed coffee that surround you as you browse the shelves for the perfect read. I was living in the moment with Elise and Sam, laughing and tearing up at the moments and sensations that are so familiar, it was as if they were pulled from the pages of my own youth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Definitely a great read! Click the cover image above to purchase it today on Amazon, in print or for Kindle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-5255798911128978882?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/5255798911128978882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=5255798911128978882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5255798911128978882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5255798911128978882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/12/fun-friday-feature-kentucky-blues-by.html' title='Fun Friday Feature- Kentucky Blues by Cat Shaffer'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J7Zz6n8Aa44/TuuD4HE3UyI/AAAAAAAABBc/sYo30xjZXfA/s72-c/final_ky_blues_200x300_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-4312865383375190034</id><published>2011-12-13T08:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T09:25:48.402-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Lucky #13</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NmClHYstKxY/TudlZsf33RI/AAAAAAAABBQ/7ZrcSyik3WY/s1600/15_Years_Old_Party%2B%25287%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NmClHYstKxY/TudlZsf33RI/AAAAAAAABBQ/7ZrcSyik3WY/s320/15_Years_Old_Party%2B%25287%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685624546694520082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my baby girl's 9th birthday. Born on Friday the 13th and she is my luckiest #13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My due date was December 24th, but I had a feeling my child would be born earlier, simply because of the Friday the 13th in that same month. For me, there is significance in the where, when, and why my daughter was born that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this morning, those 9 years ago. We didn't know how my appointment was going to go, though I had an appointment at 11:45 with my doctor and I just knew something was going to happen that day. I'd been dilated 3 centimeters since November 26th. I had already visited my doctor twice since December started, appointments just days apart because my doctor thought for sure I would go into labor around the 6th, but I didn't, so 3rd time had to be a charm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The appointment revealed I was at 5 centimeters, so the doc sent me on over to L&amp;amp;D to get prepped. By 1, my water was broken, by 2 I headed into active labor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 3:21 PM, after about only an hour and a half of active labor, I had my daughter. I remember laughing and smiling down into her red, squalling face and telling my husband that she looked just like her older brother, my stepson, who had just turned 4 two days before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter's entrance into the world has set the stage for her personality. She was in a hurry, came into the world on a countdown (3:21= 3, 2, 1 Blast off!) and she hasn't slowed down yet. She runs headlong at anything she wants to do and she has a strong stubborn streak, but she's smart as a tack, too and I'm so proud of her for recently being admitted into the gifted pool at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's my blessing and has given Friday the 13th even more meaning in my life. There's no way it could be unlucky- not for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather was released from the Army, Friday December 13th, 1946, after World War II. He always said it was his lucky day. Sadly, my grandfather never got to see his great-granddaughter, but she has a connection to him, as far as I'm concerned and it will always be MY lucky day, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not on a Friday this year, but it still feels lucky to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Baby Girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-4312865383375190034?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/4312865383375190034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=4312865383375190034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4312865383375190034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4312865383375190034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/12/my-lucky-13.html' title='My Lucky #13'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NmClHYstKxY/TudlZsf33RI/AAAAAAAABBQ/7ZrcSyik3WY/s72-c/15_Years_Old_Party%2B%25287%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-5628764991013199153</id><published>2011-12-09T00:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T06:00:20.960-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Turquoise Morning Press'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ireland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amazon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='print'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Emerald Isle'/><title type='text'>Fun Friday Feature- Ræliksen by Renee Vincent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/R%C3%A6liksen-Book-Emerald-Isle-Trilogy/dp/1935817019/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1323099431&amp;amp;sr=8-3"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2ev_kE186Q/Tt-esM7kGQI/AAAAAAAAA_o/IZKn7BaW6YA/s400/raeliksen_small_200_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683435736987343106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Good Friday morning!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't this a gorgeous cover? Doesn't it make you want to escape to the Emerald Isle and lose yourself in a story from long ago. Imagine- an &lt;span style="background-;color:white;" &gt;Irish Princess and a Viking chieftain—will their love survive their differences?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm reading this on my Kindle for PC- you can read it, too- in print or on your Kindle. Click the image above to go check it out on Amazon. If you've read and enjoyed this book, don't forget to give it a nice little clicky "Like" on Amazon, as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't forget the rest of the Trilogy- Book Two- Mac Liam and Book Three- The Fall of Rain- all available now from Turquoise Morning Press.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-5628764991013199153?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/5628764991013199153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=5628764991013199153' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5628764991013199153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5628764991013199153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/12/fun-friday-feature-rliksen-by-renee.html' title='Fun Friday Feature- Ræliksen by Renee Vincent'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k2ev_kE186Q/Tt-esM7kGQI/AAAAAAAAA_o/IZKn7BaW6YA/s72-c/raeliksen_small_200_large.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8143053701474627521</id><published>2011-12-07T11:44:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T12:31:39.071-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday is History...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OWdB0wZW7N4/Tt-niAb8gPI/AAAAAAAAA_0/sMVtU_jZfSA/s1600/HOL-CHR-071118-4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OWdB0wZW7N4/Tt-niAb8gPI/AAAAAAAAA_0/sMVtU_jZfSA/s320/HOL-CHR-071118-4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683445457439457522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it is called the present. Why does December always seem to just fly by?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, speaking of present(s)- a glance at the calendar this morning is a cheery reminder that in less than week we'll have a teenage boy on our hands. I've been in his life since he was 2 1/2 and I love him as my own, but I don't love the eye-rolling that's been going on now for more than year, though he's not 13- at least not yet. I'm wondering already if the attitude will worsen, or is his at its peak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add to the mix a soon to be 9-year-old, who seems older than she is sometimes, and is now in the gifted program at school, as well, further proving she's smart as a tack and unfortunately, she's WELL aware of it. LOL I believe her new nickname should be the Little Professor, for she also thinks she's knows all and sees all! She and her older brother make quite the pair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I need to get their presents wrapped and probably tuck them under the Christmas tree- birthday wrappings and all- just to taunt them that they still have a few days before they can open them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, I'm doing well, enjoyed Thanksgiving with my family and realized that its been nearly a month since I posted my last blog, so I thought it time to get current and up-to-date. Mailed my Christmas cards and the "family newsletter," which was different this year with the addition of info about signing my contract for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt; and how life as a writer has altered somewhat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got the Christmas shopping done and now we just have cookies and treats to make for a few family and friends. My gums are healing great and I feel a LOT better than I have in months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my writing corner, things are settled down and edits are done, so now it's galley time for me and the editor, soon as we hear back from the powers that be. We're moving right along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now---if we can just "make it through December"- everything's gonna be all right and I'll hopefully find my rhythm again and get back in the groove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Wednesday and swing back by here Friday if you get the chance to check out a new thing I'm hoping to remember to do every week-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Fun Feature Friday &lt;/span&gt;where I'll be sharing a book recommendation and introducing you to some of my fellow TMP authors. It will be great and wonderful fun, so stay tuned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ya'll come back now, ya hear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8143053701474627521?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8143053701474627521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8143053701474627521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8143053701474627521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8143053701474627521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/12/yesterday-is-history.html' title='Yesterday is History...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OWdB0wZW7N4/Tt-niAb8gPI/AAAAAAAAA_0/sMVtU_jZfSA/s72-c/HOL-CHR-071118-4.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2583456342956993625</id><published>2011-11-09T10:03:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T11:29:19.396-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='editing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='c'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Come Sail Away With Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hP3NsPxOug8/TrqlxQVkFBI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/7Zz_R3BqBPU/s1600/IMGP0611.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hP3NsPxOug8/TrqlxQVkFBI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/7Zz_R3BqBPU/s200/IMGP0611.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673028946244146194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Edits for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;are nearly done. Editor and I did an editing chat yesterday to tie up a few minor details and agreed that we'll now set it aside for a 2-week breathing period and not look at it at all in that time. Then we'll do another read through, fix any smudges and then, fingers crossed, it is off to become a galley! After that, the release won't be long behind. I know I should be looking forward to Christmas, New Year's, my birthday in February, etc, but I'm already looking forward to Spring and the release!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting eager to see and share my cover art with you. I will as soon as I receive it and have the go ahead to share. Hehehe! I also need to prep a small "dedication" for the book, too. That is proving harder than I imagined! LOL I'm not going to list everyone I have ever known, but I want to make sure I include who and what I feel are the most pertinent for me on a very personal level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gw6RzmJiv2M/Trqx2uJCKII/AAAAAAAAA_c/lqQAW4E9G0k/s1600/hourglass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gw6RzmJiv2M/Trqx2uJCKII/AAAAAAAAA_c/lqQAW4E9G0k/s200/hourglass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673042234283534466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I have time on my hands, but that time will not go unused. This coming Monday, I have an appointment for tooth extractions. Not looking forward to it, but I'd rather have them out than have to continue with the pain, headaches and misery I've dealt with for the past 7 months or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that downtime while my gums heal, I plan to take it easy. I'm going to imagine the tropical view above and pretend I'm there, the roar of the surf at the edge of the sand, the warm sunlight coaxing me into a nap in the shade of an umbrella while seagulls caw off in the distance of that clear blue sky, a book in one hand and a Mojito in the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, back in reality, I'll just settle in on the couch and use my time to read a few books and maybe tackle filling out my Christmas cards and envelopes and look forward to being able to EAT at Thanksgiving! LOL Once I feel like being on the computer, I'll probably dig into other manuscript edits or work on the WIP. Have a great one!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PNupK4OZ9Jo/Trqlh2ubDZI/AAAAAAAAA-4/vHcw6TQ-vto/s1600/IND-EDU-071120-4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 194px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PNupK4OZ9Jo/Trqlh2ubDZI/AAAAAAAAA-4/vHcw6TQ-vto/s200/IND-EDU-071120-4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673028681671052690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a wonderful Hump Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2583456342956993625?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2583456342956993625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2583456342956993625' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2583456342956993625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2583456342956993625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/11/come-sail-away-with-me.html' title='Come Sail Away With Me'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hP3NsPxOug8/TrqlxQVkFBI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/7Zz_R3BqBPU/s72-c/IMGP0611.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8582269444350976772</id><published>2011-11-04T09:23:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T10:53:24.357-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NaNoWriMo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='revisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='determination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='editing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manuscripts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perseverance'/><title type='text'>Rage Against the Dying of the Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2ZKWOQIsaw/TrP6LyuXOHI/AAAAAAAAA-U/YZ21AC7S0qE/s1600/101_0967.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2ZKWOQIsaw/TrP6LyuXOHI/AAAAAAAAA-U/YZ21AC7S0qE/s320/101_0967.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671151436291324018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do not go gentle into that good night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Old age should burn and rave at close of day;&lt;br /&gt;Rage, rage against the dying of the light.&lt;br /&gt;~Dylan Thomas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Fall is still having it out with Summer, vying for whose turn it is to shine. We've had some mornings where it's freezing when I put my children on the bus, but by afternoon, they've shed jackets for temperatures in the 70s and 80s and come running into the house squawking about how "hot" it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crank up the heaters when I roll out of bed and by midday, I'm sweating bullets and turning them all down, if not off. By next morning, I'm cold all over again and adding socks to my wardrobe, even if I'm planning to be in the house all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a blanket of golden orange and russet on my lawn. The trees stand proud in their state of undress and until Wednesday, these roses (pictured above) were weathering the temperature spikes with the stubbornness of a mule- determined to show off their pretty dressings just one more time before Fall and Winter put them to sleep for months. Not even the frost deterred them or killed their will to survive. Nope...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dressed in satiny soft petals, they shivered on those freezing mornings, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;raging against the dying of the light, indeed&lt;/span&gt;! I finally decided if they were that determined, I would rescue them. Safe in a vase, nestled together, their skirts are blossoming and they will finish their dance, at least for this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while, I know. Since the last blog post I've been busy. I received my first round of edits, and there were quite a few things to work on. The great thing about writing- I'm constantly learning about myself as a writer, about my strengths and weaknesses and learning how to build and mold them to my advantage. It takes perseverance and determination in this business, much like my roses striving to bloom amidst bitterly cold temperatures. I'm dressed in MY strong will and thick skin, baring my soul in the written word rather than the freezing cold, but just the same, I'll do so with stubborn determination to get my dance in. Others must examine and pick the bones, help remove what doesn't work and sometimes you have to build new foundations and add support beams to help smooth it into a work of art that can stand on its own. So far, so good. I have a wonderful editor who is helping make it the best it can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I spent my time taking care of that through the end of October and got it back to my editor. I still keep thinking about NaNo, but instead of worrying about it, I'm giving myself permission to be okay with the fact that I'm not participating this year so I can concentrate on more important things. Yesterday I decided that in the "between time" of edits, I'm going to pull the unfinished WIP forward and work on it to get it closer to being done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, perhaps I'll give myself a month, my own personal NaNo, sometime after the beginning of 2012 to write the 4th and final in that series. I'm not sure what the next project will be after that, though I know  I'll have a lot of work ahead of me when it is time to start promoting &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt; next spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like it's going to be busy from here on in, as this tends to be the busiest part of the year anyway, what with decorating and cooking and family gatherings for the holidays. I can't wait. I have so much to look forward to, I've got the tingles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Friday!&lt;br /&gt;Write On!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8582269444350976772?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8582269444350976772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8582269444350976772' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8582269444350976772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8582269444350976772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/11/rage-against-dying-of-light.html' title='Rage Against the Dying of the Light'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2ZKWOQIsaw/TrP6LyuXOHI/AAAAAAAAA-U/YZ21AC7S0qE/s72-c/101_0967.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3140917209866958860</id><published>2011-10-18T09:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T09:18:48.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NaNoWriMo, For me, that's a NaNoWri-No....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v-EHUHM7Rw8/Tp2HExH4p6I/AAAAAAAAA9w/2Ufo2bM6Njo/s1600/nano_10_winner_120x90-3.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 90px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v-EHUHM7Rw8/Tp2HExH4p6I/AAAAAAAAA9w/2Ufo2bM6Njo/s320/nano_10_winner_120x90-3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664832422277588898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, not this year....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, November is coming up on us quickly. As most anyone who's been reading my blog for a while knows, I usually devote November to NaNoWriMo. I've worked on something every year since 2006, buckling down and pushing through. I'm a 5 time "winner" but this year, I'm not sure I will be participating. I'd like to, but with my newly contracted novel, I am currently devoting my time to edits, which come first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edits for &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; have to be completed and ready by year's end for release in the spring, so this year, work will take front burner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This saddens me a smidgen, because NaNo is something I've been consistent about doing every  year since that first time. It was really and truly where I began...the catalyst that set wheels in motion for me and helped me realize writing a novel does not have to take me a decade. It's also what pushed me to write as much as I did in those couple of years that followed, but...and here's the big but---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't finished writing the novel I started during last year's NaNo. I hit 50,000 and the burnout set in. I counted it as a "win" but I don't really count it until that novel is complete. Currently I'm still a good 25-30K off from The End and since it IS part of the 2nd series I am working on and the novel I wanted to write during NaNo this year is the next one, I cannot imagine starting the 4th and final book before I've completed the 3rd one. As I said before, I'm a pantser and the end of #3 is bound to have some setup for #4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been good at jumping around in a manuscript. Usually the story comes forward in chronological order when I'm writing. I feel I'd be doing an injustice to the last book if I jump ahead of it's predecessor and by that same token, it would be unfair not to "put a finish on it" (#3) before I proceed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to not feel guilty over it, I'm not logging into NaNo's site/forums unless I do finish writing said book 3 and that I'm 100% certain I'm going to tackle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime- I have work to do, so I need to get back to the writing cave and dig my claws into the manuscript. (and some Hot Fries and Reese's Cups....I must keep up my strength) ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3140917209866958860?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3140917209866958860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3140917209866958860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3140917209866958860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3140917209866958860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/10/nanowrimo-for-me-thats-nanowri-no.html' title='NaNoWriMo, For me, that&apos;s a NaNoWri-No....'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v-EHUHM7Rw8/Tp2HExH4p6I/AAAAAAAAA9w/2Ufo2bM6Njo/s72-c/nano_10_winner_120x90-3.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6546066665927351495</id><published>2011-10-12T08:37:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T10:43:48.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Laid Plans...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;...of mice and men...or woman, as is the case today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mBmxwxeas_8/TpWziI9Ej3I/AAAAAAAAA9k/kRrIQRg64tg/s1600/101_0824.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mBmxwxeas_8/TpWziI9Ej3I/AAAAAAAAA9k/kRrIQRg64tg/s320/101_0824.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662629505588825970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My "Fall Break" didn't turn out at all how I envisioned. I couldn't get my travel plans tacked down to something I could handle, mentally and emotionally, and that frustrated me to no end. I've just never been one who could make plans that are simply "tentative."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to KNOW what I'm doing, WHEN and HOW that affects the rest of my  plans and the idea of things just dangling in the air with a foreboding  sense of uncertainty fills me with anxiety and trepidation. A touch of the fear of my plans falling to pieces probably plays a role. That and the idea of having no control over your situation at all, but instead feeling like a marionette at the end of someone's strings. So many times in the past, my plans have hinged on other people's schedules or what was convenient for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the worst feelings in the world is that you play second fiddle to another person's plans or that you are a burden upon family and friends because you need them for transportation. I have a growing dislike for these feelings of "dependency" upon others and it's eating me alive. Playing it by ear inadvertently caused strife and discord between myself and my closest loved ones this trip. Mind you, I did make it up to visit, and most of my visit with my family went well, but there were still undercurrents of irritation and unfinished business that left me feeling icky by the time I returned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I was thinking about the opposite side of my personality.&lt;br /&gt;I find it truly ironic that I'm a &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Pantser&lt;/span&gt;—that I write by the seat of my pants....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure HOW that worked out, but in the case of travel or important plans, I need a serious game plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When writing—not so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, a general idea, an inkling of a plot, the hero and heroine's names and careers, and a sense of their backgrounds and what I think is going to happen and I'm good to roll. I don't HAVE to know what's going to happen, when I'm going to leave my starting point, or what time I might arrive at my destination....I just go with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of this quote-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as  your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”&lt;br /&gt;~E.L. Doctorow~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gyy9YGoksGM/TpWhvAVArpI/AAAAAAAAA9M/em35okTb3L4/s1600/101_0814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gyy9YGoksGM/TpWhvAVArpI/AAAAAAAAA9M/em35okTb3L4/s320/101_0814.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662609935402315410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I would love to be able to apply that same carefree mantra to other parts of my life, the travel and planning part in particular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could do with a little more spontaneity and a lot less fear that everything will spin out of control without a strict plan to abide by. I don't know when it happened, but there are times when the very idea of putting myself, my plans, my trust in other people's hands leaves me with feelings of inadequacy, that make me feel like the unforeseen is always in my blind spot and the internal chaos wreaks havoc on my inner control freak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Having a place for things and things in their place is not a hard and fast rule for me. My house is proof enough that I can live with disorder, though I'm slowly working on minimizing that and I know Life is messy and sometimes things don't go as you'd planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how did I come to this? My mom told me she thinks I'm a touch OCD suddenly and maybe I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe she was just trying to be nice. ;) LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6546066665927351495?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6546066665927351495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6546066665927351495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6546066665927351495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6546066665927351495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/10/best-laid-plans.html' title='The Best Laid Plans...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mBmxwxeas_8/TpWziI9Ej3I/AAAAAAAAA9k/kRrIQRg64tg/s72-c/101_0824.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6877668362808182613</id><published>2011-09-30T07:26:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T08:52:04.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Break, Family Ties &amp; Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2FVhfYwtUkg/ToW27qXMKEI/AAAAAAAAA9E/WbbYcQliV1A/s1600/zion-autumn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2FVhfYwtUkg/ToW27qXMKEI/AAAAAAAAA9E/WbbYcQliV1A/s320/zion-autumn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658129642960988226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How did we get from August to October(tomorrow!) so quickly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to be editing today, but instead I find myself concentrating on what I need to pack for me and my daughter for our annual "Fall Break" visit to my hometown to spend the week with my parents, sister and friends. I've balanced the checkbook, paid a couple of bills, checked the weather report for my hometown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is, I eagerly anticipate this week, usually as soon as I get back from our annual summer visit up there. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days though, I can take my work with me when I go, so I can squeeze in editing and things like that while I'm there, especially since my parents computer is a dinosaur and there's no way I could work on my novels on their computer (it's slow, has dial up and no Word program.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, a week is never enough for me to touch base with my roots. I miss my family and enjoy the time I do get to spend with them when I go. Which gives me pause to wonder if that's why I build such important family links in my novels. Even characters whose parents have died have someone—an aunt, uncle, grandparent, best friend or substitute "loved one" who is their rock, looks out for their best interests and is always there for them when they're in need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family &amp;amp; friendships are cornerstones for me. They are the shoulders we need when our world falls apart, the cheering section when we're racing toward our goals, the ones to hold our hands when we lose things that are important to us and they are the ones who will celebrate loudest when we succeed. In some respects, we wouldn't be who we are without them. They instill courage and bravery and strength when we are lacking those qualities and they prop us up after a dark night of storms to see that the sun will rise again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to spending time with those people closest to me, the ones who buoy me up when I'm sinking down in the murk, who lend a helping hand when I've fallen to my knees and need a boost to get back up. Even when things are going well, it's a blessing to reconnect with those who's roots are entwined with your own. It helps balance and ground you and gives you clarity once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Friday!&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6877668362808182613?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6877668362808182613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6877668362808182613' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6877668362808182613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6877668362808182613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/09/fall-break-family-ties-friendship.html' title='Fall Break, Family Ties &amp; Friendship'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2FVhfYwtUkg/ToW27qXMKEI/AAAAAAAAA9E/WbbYcQliV1A/s72-c/zion-autumn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2699642483323845607</id><published>2011-09-23T11:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T12:58:53.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Lurking in that Dark Corner of the Writing Cave?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mrg.bz/DSTgOb"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 356px;" src="http://mrg.bz/DSTgOb" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" &gt;Adverbs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with me and adverbs? Sure, they are "lovely" the way they roll off the tongue in their frilly, prissy sort of way, but in recent days I feel like I'm the Queen of Adverbial. Her Royal Highness of LY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's an apt title for my entry into proper society. There I stand at the head of the stairs in my long blue satin dress with the sequin sash and a very small, but adequate tiara tucked into my coiffed auburn hair, waving to the crowd with a gloved, cupped hand as I'm introduced with pomp and grandeur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, hem....anyway... (me in a dress is LAUGHABLE at best.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with a certain-certain social network that we all know and love/hate making huge user UNfriendly changes to what is my daily routine, I've gotten a lot of work done on those adverbs. This is great, part due to the fact that I don't feel as "obligated" to check up on what's going on there so often because my "news feeds" don't feed in real time or if they are, they're only based on what's supposedly "top news" to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Well, as I had mentioned last week about shedding the time consuming games from my daily routines, I guess I can give a big shout out of &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;THANKS&lt;/span&gt; to that certain-certain social network (we shall henceforth call CCSN)for also clearing time for me to do other more worthwhile things like work on those edits that I MUST get done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would seem, that at least for me, that CCSN made me want to use it LESS often rather than what the changes they made were intended for. I'm sure they think that this new format will draw more people in so they can track and keep tabs on the entire world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I commented that CCSN was like that kid on the playground, the one you ALWAYS want to play with, but now, he just smells a bit like poo and needs to wipe his nose. I'd rather avoid him altogether until he's had a bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a confusing and baffling emotion and even now, I think I'd rather go hang out with my other playground bully- my nemesis, the Adverb. I'd rather contend with the bully than deal with Pigpen right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news- I hope to get my "Autumn" decorating done tomorrow in the living room. Time to give it a good dusting anyway as I have neglected it for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Once upon a cool rainy morning in September, Autumn was born....&lt;br /&gt;Happy 1st day of Fall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2699642483323845607?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2699642483323845607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2699642483323845607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2699642483323845607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2699642483323845607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/09/whats-lurking-in-that-dark-corner-of.html' title='What&apos;s Lurking in that Dark Corner of the Writing Cave?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8333051296480831503</id><published>2011-09-15T06:02:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T08:18:55.176-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='productivity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='novel ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>A Sprinkling of Fairy Dust</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wxXHIE4CLxk/TnHb4Zv8FVI/AAAAAAAAA80/569L6ixxG9I/s1600/101_0521.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wxXHIE4CLxk/TnHb4Zv8FVI/AAAAAAAAA80/569L6ixxG9I/s320/101_0521.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652540769357796690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, I got dusted as I was falling asleep the night before last. It had been a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;LONG&lt;/span&gt; time coming since I'd seen the sparkle of inspiration and I figured I'd lose it before I got up in the morning because I was simply too exhausted to get up and find a notepad and pen. But then I awoke with not just one idea, but possibly three ideas, for new series' or stories to write in the future. I was up before 4 A.M. jotting down these fragments for later use, but I realized then, how good it was to be up that time of the morning, already thinking about writerly things and for a moment I just breathed and thought, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I've missed this."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why is this significant? Because of my distraction. Because of my lack of concentration and procrastination. Because I have taken steps to walk away from an addiction. Yes. See, this all began a few years ago when I was first introduced to Facebook, which also coincided with my writing burn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first it was nothing. Harmless little apps to &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"send roses" or "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;send a heart" or "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;answer a question about a friend."&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Have a virtual pillow figh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;t." &lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pass a Drink."&lt;/span&gt; And this was great for someone looking for a little escapism from writing almost nonstop for about 3 years and producing  8 manuscripts in that time. I needed a break. My brain needed a break and I felt as though the inspiration well had run dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, those are seemingly harmless and sweet, but after a while it gets old and you end up removing them of your own free will because they just don't "fit" anymore when no one else is using them either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're novelty, but then came the requests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come be my neighbor" or "Could you send me a bucket of mud" or "The zebra ate monkey poo and needs a vaccine" from any number of games that end in Ville or World. Most are products of a company that I shall simply call Z because ya'll &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOW&lt;/span&gt; what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I thought, oh, this is easy, it's fun and I'd feel "guilty" if I don't help  my friends out. I love my friends, so it's the least I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can send a couch to Jessie cause her living room is bare, or Zeke needs some pet food for Little Squeaker so he doesn't run away again. I have to grow veggies and fruit and that means in two hours, I have to come back or the crops will wither. These crops need to be shipped to that funny little eatery in the middle of nowhere, so I can cook a billion cheeseburgers or lobster with marble chocolate glaze and pears for some wedding mission that never seems to end. I can't make preserves without strawberries and Heaven help me if my homestead in the old west gets overrun with snakes, Dodo birds and other despicable varmints and brambles and tumbleweeds made of barbed wire. I don't care anymore if BillyBob Jimbo and Ethel Marmalade &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;EVER&lt;/span&gt; get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, it's taken me at least 2 years to figure out that THIS is the source of my writing woes. I have an addiction. Since I started playing those time-(management)thieving games, my productivity has dropped, I haven't had any ideas in ages, etc. If anyone is to blame, it's....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's me. I apparently have an easily addictive personality. But I am learning to break the habit, and overcome the worry of guilt. I still love my friends, but if I hope to produce more stories in the future and have this career in writing, it must be done. I must cut the cord. I have been weaning myself from the games recently because I'm tired of them. I probably hadn't actually played in a week, though I still accepted and sent gifts and fulfilled requests- up until 2 or 3 days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's when I removed them. Well, I removed the ones I consider the biggest offenders. They've been sent into exile. There are a few small time criminals I'll hang onto, some for just those times when I do need a moment or two to stare off mindlessly into the oblivion and zone out a little, but as for the time-sucking vampires, they are gone. And I'm glad. I feel it when I wake up that I don't have those monkeys on my back anymore, or throwing poo at me to get my attention. My thoughts are clearer, my brain feels like it's revving up and getting back into the right gear....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what did I get for clearing my head of the worry and constant concern over these games? For breaking away from my addiction?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;Fairy Dust.&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and inspiration&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WONDERFUL, INSPIRING&lt;/span&gt; Thursday. The weekend is on the horizon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8333051296480831503?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8333051296480831503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8333051296480831503' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8333051296480831503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8333051296480831503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/09/sprinkling-of-fairy-dust.html' title='A Sprinkling of Fairy Dust'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wxXHIE4CLxk/TnHb4Zv8FVI/AAAAAAAAA80/569L6ixxG9I/s72-c/101_0521.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-5757352777893084375</id><published>2011-09-09T10:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T10:51:48.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Short &amp; Sweet- It's Friday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cJ4Q7rGdEPo/Tmo1sbZHweI/AAAAAAAAA8s/JiZATw39NrM/s1600/FallFolliage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 365px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cJ4Q7rGdEPo/Tmo1sbZHweI/AAAAAAAAA8s/JiZATw39NrM/s200/FallFolliage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650387719873348066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Had a rather uneventful Labor Day weekend. Spent it at home, because hubby had to work, then the cool snap we had was an early remind of how close we are to fall. Haven't had the air conditioners on for several days and the bus stop mornings are chilly to the bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made a lot of headway this week on the underline-to-italics edits and have moved on from one 4 book series to the other one. Hubby's days off threw a monkey wrench into progress when he was off the past two days and we spent a little time on my driving- I drove from home all the way to town and to both the grocery stores we shop at and back home, so I count that as a very good day. Yesterday though we spent the better part of it watching movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorites- &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Madea's Big Happy Family&lt;/span&gt;, which serves to remind me what a wonderful storyteller Tyler Perry is. He never fails to put "heart" into what he writes for these plays and movies. He's a great talent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also watched &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You Again, Just Go With It, and Narnia: Voyage of the Dawntreader. &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;All pretty decent movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The school week is dwindling off and I'm glad for a couple of days rest from the routine. Today I do need to call my mom and check on her. She fell last week and dislocated her elbow in two places and they had to "put it back." Haven't talked to her in a few days, so I don't know how she's feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby put in to have tomorrow off, so he'll be off again for two more days, so I figure I better make the most of the quiet time I have today, but I wanted to make sure I did get this posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend! It's supposed to start warming back up here in Southern Kentucky, so make the most of the warm weather after we've had this little cool spell. I have a feeling it will start to stay cool more often pretty soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Friday! Write On!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-5757352777893084375?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/5757352777893084375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=5757352777893084375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5757352777893084375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5757352777893084375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/09/short-sweet-its-friday.html' title='Short &amp; Sweet- It&apos;s Friday!'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cJ4Q7rGdEPo/Tmo1sbZHweI/AAAAAAAAA8s/JiZATw39NrM/s72-c/FallFolliage.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-7170632168769848758</id><published>2011-09-02T11:37:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T07:16:45.742-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Week Ending, or Long Weekend?</title><content type='html'>Where is the time going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that it's already Friday again and I promised myself I'd post more often begged the question first. Then though a glance at the calendar also brought forth questions like "Where did August go? Is it already September? Really? Where did this YEAR go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a long week that's coming to an end, but I'm also grateful that it's a "long weekend" we're heading into because, Wowee, wow, wow- it's already Labor Day weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is fully underway for the kids and they're really starting to get back into the groove of things. Hubby's bid to a different shift worked out so before too long he'll be working Wed-Sun, still on a 10-hour shift, but working 4 days in a row and having 3 consecutive days off in a row which I know makes him happier and will add a little normalcy back to our weekly routine. I know he's excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday after I posted I heard from my newly assigned editor, so I'm tickled over that. Then this week was made chipper by the discovery that my &lt;a href="http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/2009/08/taryn-raye.html"&gt;Author's Bio page is up on Turquoise Morning Press&lt;/a&gt;. This makes publication seem more real yet again. I find myself hit with small bursts of "Squee!" from time to time. Very surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also still been working on the whole underline/italics thing in my manuscripts. My love affair must end though. Underlining words of emphasis is rather antiquated so I'm having to correct that through my manuscripts by changing them to italics. From there, I will head into deep self-editing mode again and then more writing. Perhaps I'll put myself on a strict self-inflicted deadline so I can finish writing one of my manuscripts *the one I began and won NaNoWriMo with last November*. I need to get it finished before November so I can use this year's NaNo to my advantage to write and finish the last book in my brothers' series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in other news- for those who aren't aware of this- I only have a permit- I've never had a huge need to drive, ever, but last year I was going to remedy that because I need to be more self-reliant, not just in the cases of emergency, but also because I want to be able to go visit my family when I get a notion, so I can run to the store if we need something, or if the kids get sick at school, I can go pick them up or take them to the doctor. I'm tired of feeling "stuck" and knowing I could easily solve this issue if I could just drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, needless to say, there were a lot of "universal" saboteurs that have stood in my way over the past year or so- bad timing or just no convenient time to go out and practice driving, automotive failures, irrational fears. Yesterday I took a step toward shaking off the irrational fears as well as moving forward with my original intent. I think I did pretty good and even my husband said I did really well considering I hadn't been behind the wheel in over a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping this is the beginning of a means to an end for me. I'll have some freedom to travel when or if the need arises. I will be able to take care of things when my husband isn't able to and best of all, I might be able to FINALLY start squeezing into KYRW meetings from time to time! :D It would be great to finally meet all the wonderful authors in my chapter and it's yet another awesome reason I'm determined to accomplish this little feat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on that thought, I'm off and gone. Need some lunch and then back to vanquishing the underline from my life, dirty little bugger!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you have a wonderful long RELAXING weekend and you enjoy the company of family and friends, with good food and good times! Careful in your travels!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Labor Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-7170632168769848758?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/7170632168769848758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=7170632168769848758' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7170632168769848758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7170632168769848758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/09/long-week-ending-or-long-weekend.html' title='Long Week Ending, or Long Weekend?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3916139276312807000</id><published>2011-08-26T10:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T04:59:43.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit the Keys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJgzZBZfAIw/Tle8KEytEtI/AAAAAAAAA7k/_Sy2dn3qH2g/s1600/stockvault_2883_20070301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJgzZBZfAIw/Tle8KEytEtI/AAAAAAAAA7k/_Sy2dn3qH2g/s200/stockvault_2883_20070301.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645187539203330770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be short, but in an attempt to get back to writing a blog more often, to awaken the writer in me, I will post today and hopefully start finding things to write about more than once a week. I just find my brain goes muddled and I can't quite think of things to talk about, but that's because I have a lot going on behind the scenes at the moment, mostly editing manuscripts and trying to keep myself afloat in a sea of distractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit a sluggish row around 2009, just burnout I guess, but I'm digging and clawing my way out of this rut. I HAVE to, not just because living in a rut is awful, but because my writing is suffering for it. I misplaced my fire- that writing fire that was lit beneath me? It got moved and misplaced in the chaos of simply living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I seem to procrastinate it has a lot to do with not "feeling" the fire burning in my belly....I lost the hunger and the need to write. I used to write as though I might never get to have my entire say in the conversation of life. I feel like I'm on the outskirts of that fire, and I need to jump back in, let the flames brand me, to sear my skin with the markings of untold tales and fill my heart with a renewed desire to lift the stories up out of me and onto the page/screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's slowly rekindling, I just wish I hadn't lost it to begin with- but life is sometimes too overwhelming and you must take each step and each moment as it comes, even when it isn't convenient for us. I've stayed quiet a lot these past few years because I've been ashamed of myself for losing the momentum. I wonder, what kind of writer does that make me? I'm starting to think it's all about pacing- pacing the stories and the writing and the editing, and myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The writer in me won't stop nagging me to fix this. I'll get there. I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a great Friday and a wonderful weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3916139276312807000?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3916139276312807000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3916139276312807000' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3916139276312807000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3916139276312807000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/08/hit-keys.html' title='Hit the Keys'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJgzZBZfAIw/Tle8KEytEtI/AAAAAAAAA7k/_Sy2dn3qH2g/s72-c/stockvault_2883_20070301.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3348806597044757159</id><published>2011-08-18T10:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T12:28:35.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Follow Your Heart's Desire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6P0FC6kwL1k/Tk0yQ_vVqNI/AAAAAAAAA7c/2c-xoBh0gsI/s1600/100_9769.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 169px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6P0FC6kwL1k/Tk0yQ_vVqNI/AAAAAAAAA7c/2c-xoBh0gsI/s200/100_9769.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642221175734380754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chasing dreams is generally encouraged by most everyone. When you're little, your parents and loved ones tell you that you can be anything you want to be. They boost your confidence and remind you that there are no limits to what you can do in your life. If you want something badly enough, you can work for it, fight for it and accomplish it. Fall down the rabbit hole, Alice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we're not always prepared for are those people who seem to know which buttons to push to make us doubt ourselves, to pack away our dreams in a cardboard box and store it in the back of the closet and make us feel unworthy of finding the greatness within us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your heart's desire might not ever bring you fame and fortune. You might pursue something for which you have no real talent, but if it brings you a brief moment of happiness or joy or inspiration, then it has accomplished something because it gives you the opportunity to taste the richness of LIVING your life doing something you enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a writer, I've waffled back and forth over the years with so many detrimental emotions in this regard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some who just don't understand WHY you want to do what you do and they never will. They tend to ask WHY a lot and then still blow you off when your answer doesn't satisfy them. There are those who act like they're supportive, but say harsh and hurtful things. I don't know if they do that purposely or on a subconscious level, where they don't realize how much pain they inflict in the heart of us. I imagine some disregard dreams simply because they've failed in their own. Perhaps they're jealous to see another person pursuing their dream while they don't because they're fearful of even TRYING. Some are just so critical, they want you to fail, or they want you to be the way THEY want you to be. If your interests or dreams veer off the path of what they think is "right" then it just doesn't belong. You're a square peg in a round hole. Sadly, this generally means they don't love you for who you are and aren't willing to accept you, faults and all. That's a truly sad state of affairs there when they are people you admire, respect and love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the people who do this are inconsequential, but then there are those you have to contend with- parents, siblings, other relatives, friends, neighbors, authority and even yourself. Those closest can generally hurt you the most because they don't realize they're attacking a part of you when they find fault with what's in your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had some people stand behind me 100% about chasing my writing career and others who pshawed me as if the dream were too big and I were too small to accomplish it. It hurts when others beat it into your head that its not worth all the time you're "wasting" on a dream you can't achieve. It breaks your heart because you end up adding their doubts to the mix and stir it into your own doubts and fears. What's left? A very thick Doubt Soup- a recipe for feelings of utter hopelessness and it can happen to the best of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a great deal of time in previous years NOT writing because no one seemed to believe in me and those who did, couldn't get me to see it because I'd convinced myself it wasn't worth it. If no one else believed in me, why should I believe in myself? I thought being a wife and mother was all I had to give. I was just someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's wife, someone's mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a writer? Who was I kidding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only problem was that I got up daily, thinking about how much I wanted to write. I went to bed thinking about how much I missed it. I felt dead on the inside, intent on just living the life I had in my empty little shell, even if it meant I didn't write. But my heart wouldn't let me. The embers of my desire to write crackled deep below the surface, kindled and started burning me from the inside out, filling my days with an ache to write so badly, I finally had to give in to it and let it take over. And I'm glad I did. Somehow that desire broke through the barriers of sadness, despondency and hopelessness until it filled me up with a renewed belief in myself, more confidence and ideas and inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently told a friend that I'd just as soon die as to stop writing. There was laughter, but I know it was the laughter of understanding. I think sometimes we neglect our biggest responsibilities- to ourselves-We spend so much of our time bending to other people's demands, other people's views of us, their "will" for us, that we forget we have just as much responsibility to be true to ourselves and grasp hold of our own free will to be who we're meant to be- no matter what that might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we don't "take care" of us, take care of OUR heart's desire, we die a little inside. Sometimes, in fact, we die a LOT inside before we realize we can't please everyone all the time and we shouldn't even attempt to. There comes a point when you have to decide if the sacrifice of your heart, your dreams and your own feelings are worth it when it makes you feel like you have no reason to exist, as though what you are doesn't matter. We forget to "matter" to ourselves while we're so busy worried about what everyone else thinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's one of the most deplorable things in the world when someone else thinks they can dictate your heart's desire or make you feel like what you love or enjoy is meaningless or unworthy. I will never be one to say you "can't" follow that dream. I believe it was my 4th grade teacher who said "Can't never could do anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow your heart's desire, enjoy life and be true to YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;To thine own self be true.&lt;br /&gt;~Shakespeare~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~Dr. S~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter&lt;br /&gt;and those who matter don't mind.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Dr. S~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.&lt;br /&gt;~Eleanor Roosevelt~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3348806597044757159?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3348806597044757159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3348806597044757159' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3348806597044757159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3348806597044757159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/08/follow-your-hearts-desire.html' title='Follow Your Heart&apos;s Desire'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6P0FC6kwL1k/Tk0yQ_vVqNI/AAAAAAAAA7c/2c-xoBh0gsI/s72-c/100_9769.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2903580646462114518</id><published>2011-08-12T07:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T08:39:09.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And So It Begins</title><content type='html'>The school year has gotten off to a great start for both my kids. My daughter is loving 3rd grade and my stepson is amazed that 7th grade is "not as bad as I thought it would be."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a busy week for the kids and us and me. Got some things done that I've been working on behind the scenes. Walked on the treadmill once this week. Really need to tackle that again today if I hope to get back in the habit and perhaps also have a reason to contribute to my exercise/weight loss blog (Taryn Has a Meltdown) from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm going to enjoy my Friday, but I'm also going to start laying out editing plans for some of my other manuscripts- run the "numbers" on adverbs, overused words, grammatical errors, etc. It's time to start tightening the belt around my writing waist and hopefully have edits done soon so I can get back to the WIP I haven't finished yet and start the next, and last in the series, of my brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then to see where things go from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a lovely Friday people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2903580646462114518?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2903580646462114518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2903580646462114518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2903580646462114518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2903580646462114518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/08/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And So It Begins'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-4320987396386001825</id><published>2011-08-05T09:22:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T13:56:15.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Countdown has Begun...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hkQbyWr7sE/TjwER914K1I/AAAAAAAAA7U/1yPNN9EoT_w/s1600/Ind-edu-071120-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 141px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hkQbyWr7sE/TjwER914K1I/AAAAAAAAA7U/1yPNN9EoT_w/s200/Ind-edu-071120-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637385540265847634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;School starts Tuesday for my kids. I love them with all my heart, but I honestly need to stop here and say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Yippee!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a short and yet very long and draining summer vacation. The heat has been nearly unbearable and the kids- I know they try, but it's like two small cyclones tearing through my house, bumping into each other (and me) and bickering and stirring up a ruckus that has me fit to be tied sometimes. And they're not the small cyclones they used to be. No, they are growing and with that growth, they're more irritable and grouchy and grumble and fuss just a little louder, because what's the point of a fight with your big brother or little sister if Mom doesn't HEAR it the first time? LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They "need" more education...Yes, that's it. It's an absolute must~ because I NEED the quiet time to return to my normally abnormal days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn isn't here yet, but I feel it~sense it~ this settling current that's rippling just beneath the staggering heat that's crisped the grass, the riotous buzz of the cicadas, the crunchy dead leaves that have fallen at the feet of the trees. The trees aren't ready to strip down for their chilled dance through fall into winter, but this weather just hasn't given them much choice. It's so hot they have begun to bare their limbs, and they're growing more naked as the days and weeks move along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer, even with the suffocating heat, has found me suffering the aches and pains of a sinus infection. I knew that's what it was a month or so ago, but I'm stubborn and refused to go to the doctor just because I was thinking of our finances and what's necessary. My mom reminded me that if it were one of the kids or my husband, I'd insist they go, but I don't do them any good if I'M sick either and I need to make myself a priority in getting well. So, I'm on Amoxicillin and starting to feel better just a couple of days in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's put me in a haze, having a sinus infection. I did get my first round of edits into my editor and now I'm working on another project that I'm not going to talk about today, but hoping that it's something I WILL be able to talk about before too long, if all goes well and maybe then I can talk about it till I'm blue in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had 7th grade orientation for the oldest and tonight we must endure the Open House for the 3rd grader. Oh, what fun! Will be glad when this is over because I know I don't have to cook tonight, but will get to enjoy some awesome catfish from a little out of the way place here that Guy Fieri should visit on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Enjoy your Friday people, keep cool and let the countdown begin...Momma can't wait!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-65rPhKu3V0Y/TjwD3mI7xhI/AAAAAAAAA7M/nrskM8Twoa4/s1600/100_9743.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-65rPhKu3V0Y/TjwD3mI7xhI/AAAAAAAAA7M/nrskM8Twoa4/s200/100_9743.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637385087226725906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-4320987396386001825?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/4320987396386001825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=4320987396386001825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4320987396386001825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4320987396386001825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/08/countdown-has-begun.html' title='The Countdown has Begun...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7hkQbyWr7sE/TjwER914K1I/AAAAAAAAA7U/1yPNN9EoT_w/s72-c/Ind-edu-071120-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6317613147680908981</id><published>2011-07-18T16:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T12:51:47.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love is a Very Tangled Thing</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I finally watched &lt;a href="http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/tangled/"&gt;Tangled&lt;/a&gt; for the first time. According to my 8-year-old, it's one of THE best cartoon movies she's ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked it. It had a new twist on an old tale (though I don't recall Rapunzel being a Princess, but the daughter of poor folk who lived next door to a witch, later found in the tower by the Prince. Perhaps that was part of the charm- that they reversed the roles for Rapunzel and Flynn Rider.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This set wheels in motion in my head, but nothing's struck me as "the right" thing to blog about....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until this morning— The fact that LOVE is a very tangled thing sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a multitude of reasons for relationships to fall apart, in reality as well as in novels, but the one thing that remains true is LOVE. Love is the singular thing that can bring two people together, despite all obstacles and differences that set them apart from one another. Though they'll be pitted against each other throughout the story, our hero &amp;amp; heroine will work THROUGH the differences because LOVE rules that scenario. As a writer of those kinds of stories, I have to make sure they do or it wouldn't be much of a love story, now would it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Major differences of opinion, beliefs, social standing &amp;amp; any number of other issues, can be the sword that runs deep into the heart of a relationship &amp;amp; kills it. Not everyone is meant to be together, even when they "believe" they love each other with all their hearts. And self-love is just as important as the love received or given by another. Extenuating circumstances do not bode well for certain relationships. Sometimes there are issues of trust. Sometimes that which divides us is more powerful then the love we feel. Sometimes what we feel is just not the strong abiding kind of love that can rescue the relationship if it's doomed to failure anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal experience reminds me that sometimes love is just not enough. So here is where things get "tangled."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once thought I'd found a Prince—a man who'd stand beside me &amp;amp; bolster me up &amp;amp; believe in my dreams because he loved me. He pursued me &amp;amp; won my heart. He encouraged my dreams- my poetry &amp;amp; writing. He swore his unconditional love to me. He said he knew I was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but over the few years together, our relationship grew &amp;amp; changed &amp;amp; I did, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd grown unhappy in this "love." I wasn't working at anything, not even my writing, I'd gained weight, hated myself &amp;amp; felt lost because I'd lost my self-love and I knew I was the only one who could get that back. So I broke off the relationship. He kept coming back, pursuing me because he "loved" me so much and eventually we got back together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between the time we broke up &amp;amp; got back together I'd found a job, lost weight &amp;amp; felt like "me" again. AND I was thinking about my writing. But the job ended when the business went belly up &amp;amp; I decided to pursue a writing workshop to "hone" my skills if I really wanted to become a published author. He was all for it...at least it seemed that way at first. We were talking plans for our future together, talking to realtors about houses, but sometimes it's when you're the closest to making a mistake, that's when true colors emerge &amp;amp; true selves can't help being who they are. A switch flipped and it was the beginning of the end. (Especially since his family were always doggedly reminding me that it takes two working people to survive and were always throwing the want ads in my face.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My parents don't think we can make it, but don't worry, NOTHING they say can change how I feel about you."&lt;br /&gt;Followed shortly by----&lt;br /&gt;"I can't LOVE you if you don't have a job."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUH?!?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it happens that fast. I tried to get a job, now that love had new conditions, but I got the job for the wrong reasons (which didn't last long), thinking it would help me "keep" his love. That's not supposed to be how love works, is it? And as for supporting &amp;amp; encouraging my dream of becoming a writer? Yeah, that got chalked up to a pipe dream, too, because it might never amount to anything. The man who loved me, no longer believed—not in my dream, not in our love &amp;amp; not in ME. It seemed to me that "nothing" was a lot stronger than I ever imagined, for that "nothing" changed everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happened? When the relationship finally met it's bitter demise, I tucked away my writing, my dream, quite like Rapunzel in her tower because I didn't love myself enough to remember that they were MY dreams, not his. And it took me nearly ten years to seek out that tower again, hidden behind overgrowth &amp;amp; bramble &amp;amp; vine to rescue my dreams from their captivity. And rescue it I did. Look how far I've come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My publication is still a few months off for my debut release of my historical romance entitled Castaway Hearts, but it's coming. Love is a tangled thing sometimes, but now I remember that my self-love is just as important. And I don't foresee locking my dreams in that tower ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6317613147680908981?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6317613147680908981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6317613147680908981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6317613147680908981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6317613147680908981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/07/love-is-very-tangled-thing.html' title='Love is a Very Tangled Thing'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8792019118895771538</id><published>2011-06-28T11:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:18:27.018-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And Away We Go, Lil Monster!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5W3XUQlNuZc/TgoJygyukpI/AAAAAAAAA60/Eh-D3eXwRRk/s1600/100_9749.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5W3XUQlNuZc/TgoJygyukpI/AAAAAAAAA60/Eh-D3eXwRRk/s320/100_9749.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623317848126296722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;June is almost over and the manuscript is (finally) in my editor's hands now. Totally love my characters, but kind of glad to get a break from them and hoping *fingers crossed* she loves them, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I got brain-fried on these edits. I'm not the first author to admit I'm my own worst critic and given the opportunity, I can rip myself to pieces. In that process, I end up worrying that I've done more harm than good and end up second guessing myself a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I could learn to control the fear-mongering self-doubt monster who haunts my every moment. That little goblin(we will call him Munchie) had his hands around my neck while I was submerged in self-edits and reformatting. He nearly made me cry a few times when his grip grew tight enough to leave bruises or his claws sank in a little too deep when I got frustrated or confused or just downright baffled as to whether I was headed in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I somehow survived, though there was much gnashing of snaggled gruesome teeth against my shoulder and vicious growling as I fought him off. (This would not hold up in a police report, as his marks cannot be seen with the naked eye)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'll be back, I'm sure. I don't think he ever quite goes away since he's a small part of me, ugly as he is. I just have to keep him in check. Perhaps I need to chain him up in the basement for a while. Find a way to "tame" that wild little beast so that he can be my companion rather than my enemy. Perhaps he could sleep at my feet under the desk while I write....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There IS something to be said for having the ability to look at your work and see all it's good and bad qualities and in learning to harness that knowledge. It's the best of both worlds when you can LOVE your manuscript and still use that critical eye to see and repair the flaws while keeping true to the story you wish to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's my plan now that said manuscript is with editor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mini-vacay and reformatting and prepping other finished manuscripts. Tightening and polishing until they shine like a sparkly bauble. I'm hoping to find homes for my other babies, too, so I must continue on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Munchie is already snapping at my ankles to get back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Tuesday!&lt;br /&gt;Write On!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8792019118895771538?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8792019118895771538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8792019118895771538' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8792019118895771538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8792019118895771538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/06/and-away-we-go-lil-monster.html' title='And Away We Go, Lil Monster!'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5W3XUQlNuZc/TgoJygyukpI/AAAAAAAAA60/Eh-D3eXwRRk/s72-c/100_9749.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-7053975227532511105</id><published>2011-06-20T10:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T11:14:31.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading Through</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5ygmPuOL9U/Tf9jgB36BdI/AAAAAAAAA6s/t6Qzz4rWHS8/s1600/100_9775.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5ygmPuOL9U/Tf9jgB36BdI/AAAAAAAAA6s/t6Qzz4rWHS8/s320/100_9775.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620320261891556818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Reading through my manuscript aloud should be simple. I re-read through letters I've written to my grandmother to make sure I've included all pertinent news of what's going on in our lives or to check for grammar errors. (She was a librarian for many years at Asbury College.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reread letters to teachers when we've had concerns in regard to our kids and I sometimes have trouble reading through favorite authors without seeing mistakes that made it through edits and into print, so you would think reading through my own writing- my own story, I would be just as apt to notice the same issues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so. I've gone through my manuscript at least 5 times over the past several weeks and it wasn't until last night as I started the actual read-through that I noticed one glaring issue that jumped right off the page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The original sentence I started out with was—&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-font-kerning:14.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This man's hair, silky raven in color, slicked back away from his smooth tanned forehead.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point the word THIS got changed into HIS (perhaps a bad backspace on my part at some point in the editing process) but I ended up with the following—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt; 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mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-font-kerning:14.0pt;mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;"His man's hair, silky raven in color....&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get where I'm going, don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His MAN'S HAIR? I started reading this sentence to my husband and he immediately stopped me mid-sentence and went to a bad place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to derail his train of thought- NO, it was not THAT hair! (LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end I went with "His hair, silky raven in color, slicked back away from his smooth tanned forehead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But needless to say, it gave my husband and I a good laugh before bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not unlike the crazy dreams I had about Micky D's fish filets and tartar sauce last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if only they delivered....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the grindstone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a fantabulous start to the week!&lt;br /&gt;Write on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-7053975227532511105?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/7053975227532511105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=7053975227532511105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7053975227532511105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7053975227532511105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/06/reading-through.html' title='Reading Through'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5ygmPuOL9U/Tf9jgB36BdI/AAAAAAAAA6s/t6Qzz4rWHS8/s72-c/100_9775.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8148627081546215411</id><published>2011-06-19T14:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T14:57:20.612-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lfRDpuJKpSo/Tf5P5F56S9I/AAAAAAAAA6c/jIi_PR9EPdM/s1600/Happy%2BFathers%2BDay%2B2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 261px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lfRDpuJKpSo/Tf5P5F56S9I/AAAAAAAAA6c/jIi_PR9EPdM/s320/Happy%2BFathers%2BDay%2B2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620017227261168594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8148627081546215411?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8148627081546215411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8148627081546215411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8148627081546215411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8148627081546215411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/06/happy-fathers-day.html' title='Happy Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lfRDpuJKpSo/Tf5P5F56S9I/AAAAAAAAA6c/jIi_PR9EPdM/s72-c/Happy%2BFathers%2BDay%2B2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-5492931071681405591</id><published>2011-06-10T08:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T09:36:59.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fluttering By</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Waj3bYCWGDQ/TfIgNnh47VI/AAAAAAAAA6M/64_7xeliwtg/s1600/2butterfly6-12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Waj3bYCWGDQ/TfIgNnh47VI/AAAAAAAAA6M/64_7xeliwtg/s320/2butterfly6-12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616587103605943634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday!&lt;br /&gt;Just thought I'd flutter by and say &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HEY!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;from knee deep in the -ING edits for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Castaway Hearts&lt;/span&gt;, my historical romance novel due out from &lt;a href="http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/"&gt;Turquoise Morning Press&lt;/a&gt; in Spring 2012. In the meantime, click the link and check out some of the great books and wonderful authors already being published by TMP, a lot of which you can get either print or ebook, so there's something for everyone, no matter your "binding" preference!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about a quarter of the way there to removing at least 1/2 those devious little words. Tuesday was mine and my hubby's 9th anniversary. We didn't do anything exciting, but we did have catfish from a little family restaurant in town. After that, hubby had two days off mid-week, grocery shopping, got oil changed in the car, replaced our water heater and these scorching temps that blast through you like a dragon breathing down your neck have all but helped me get my work done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly but surely I'll get there. Then I can move on to these same deep edits for other manuscripts I'm hoping to pitch to my publisher. &lt;/span&gt;Thinking in terms of longevity, I have a decent selection of manuscripts to offer, more stories buried within and I'm hoping she'll be interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway... Allergy eyes are trying to do me in today, but I'll beat it- Got to. These edits NEED to get done! Off to work some writerly magic—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a wonderful Friday and a great weekend!&lt;br /&gt;Stay Cool and Beat the Heat!&lt;br /&gt;Write On!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-5492931071681405591?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/5492931071681405591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=5492931071681405591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5492931071681405591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5492931071681405591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/06/fluttering-by.html' title='Fluttering By'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Waj3bYCWGDQ/TfIgNnh47VI/AAAAAAAAA6M/64_7xeliwtg/s72-c/2butterfly6-12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2224662161515332816</id><published>2011-06-06T09:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T11:41:16.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeding, Balancing &amp; Finding Respect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jk7-IgrtuxY/Tez3ZMAX-aI/AAAAAAAAA58/Of_gVjRp1kQ/s1600/Picture_072b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jk7-IgrtuxY/Tez3ZMAX-aI/AAAAAAAAA58/Of_gVjRp1kQ/s320/Picture_072b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615134847515752866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm still weeding through edits. I thought I was nearly done, but after "-ly" left, "had" "was" and "-ing" showed up for the party before I could do a read-through and a few other things that would have the manuscript ready to send to my editor for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm still tweaking and now I'm also trying to find the balance between work and the kids' summer vacation needs. Things I don't normally put too much effort into when I'm home alone (meals, entertainment, etc) have suddenly shown up on the front burner of my priorities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ironic too, is that on the days hubby's off work, the kids still holler for ME when they need something or come and hover around my workspace, making noises until they get my attention. I'm the "It Girl" around here it would seem, the Go-To Gal, cause Daddy apparently doesn't know his way around the house. {scoffs}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When this month's issue of RWR (the RWA magazine for members) arrived in the mail Saturday I found a timely article about how to handle and talk about it when the "home crowd" doesn't respect your writing time, when they don't view it as a real career. Love my husband, but he used to sabotage my writing time when I first started taking it seriously. I'd wanted to be a writer all my life, and I'm sure I'd told him over first few years we were married that I wanted to be a writer, but I never really SHOWED him that I meant it until we'd been together 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dXjDlHcGIPs/Te0B1Dcj9rI/AAAAAAAAA6E/mrgJ10ECiRo/s1600/tea00015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dXjDlHcGIPs/Te0B1Dcj9rI/AAAAAAAAA6E/mrgJ10ECiRo/s320/tea00015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615146321370674866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At that point, I'm pretty sure he thought I'd just decided to find a hobby, so any time I was writing he felt free to interrupt with a question or a funny story or something he thought I'd find cool or informative that had nothing to do with what I was working on. If I got up from the computer to start supper, he'd slip right in my seat and go online to look at other things of interest to him before I could come back and save my work. Sure he'd leave my file up, but he'd be online for hours, disregarding my need to get back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd had other people in my life make me feel like it was a pipe dream, something not worth the endeavor cause it would be too hard and made me feel like I was incapable of accomplishing it. There were times when I'd want to talk to hubby about a storyline or the ideas I had and he'd change the subject and talk about movies, video games and sports, leaving me with the distinct feeling I had a saboteur in my midst. What support system did I have if not my own husband?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it wasn't him interrupting me, it was the guilt gnawing at my gut that I wasn't taking care of my "real" job as a homemaker, wife and mother. I've known I was a writer in my heart for years, but it took me a long time to say "I AM a writer" instead of "I WANT to be a writer." It's probably also the reason it took hubby so long to see it as "real" too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful for my mom and my best friends and my fellow writers for keeping me going even when I doubted it all. Every now and then, hubby slips and forgets when I'm working that other stuff can wait till I'm done, but now it's the kids I have to contend with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer vacation is here and that should mean I devote all my time to keeping them entertained. They have a "Mommy should drop everything and do stuff for us" mentality that I can't seem to shake off of them. They're proud of me for being a writer, this much I know, but the reality of what that means hasn't hit them yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past several years that I've been pursuing my writing seriously, I've told them time and again that "if" I became a contracted author, sometimes they'd have to entertain themselves on breaks and in the summertime while I got work done. They have toys, books, movies, favorite tv shows, etc. I wouldn't have an "office" away from home, so I need them to respect my work time. I want them to SEE me work hard at something so they're encouraged to do the same when they find something they love to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm a contracted author now, but it's still not sunk in yet. I still have trouble getting them to see that they can do things independent of me and that certain things can wait sometimes until I get work I HAVE to do done, so we can do things together that we WANT to do. We do have ALL summer, but I have a deadline to think about, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think I'm going to have to make a plaque to hang outside the bedroom/office door that says—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Work In Progress&lt;br /&gt;~Knock Before Entering~&lt;br /&gt;~Do NOT Disturb~&lt;br /&gt;(unless it's an Emergency)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I try to laugh this off, but I hope to find the balance I need and see a shift in respect as time goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a great day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2224662161515332816?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2224662161515332816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2224662161515332816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2224662161515332816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2224662161515332816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/06/weeding-balancing-finding-respect.html' title='Weeding, Balancing &amp; Finding Respect'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jk7-IgrtuxY/Tez3ZMAX-aI/AAAAAAAAA58/Of_gVjRp1kQ/s72-c/Picture_072b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8309122700525395145</id><published>2011-05-27T07:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T08:12:55.712-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bFNjEYht3mo/Td-T5-2FMUI/AAAAAAAAA5o/7Z0XzldJiXk/s1600/sweetblogaward.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bFNjEYht3mo/Td-T5-2FMUI/AAAAAAAAA5o/7Z0XzldJiXk/s320/sweetblogaward.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611366285058584898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, looky what I woke up to this morning. The last thing I expected Twitter to announce this morning was that I'd had a mention from a dear writer, nominating me for a sweet blog award. From my talented fellow KYRW &lt;a href="http://www.cheriemarks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Cherie Marks&lt;/a&gt;, I wish to thank you for such an honor and say I'm thrilled to be in such wonderful company in this crazy business. You are awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rules of this award are simple:&lt;br /&gt;1. Thank and link to the person who nominated you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;font-family:Georgia,&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2. Share 7 random facts about yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;font-family:Georgia,&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3. Pass the Award on to 10 deserving blog buddies.&lt;br /&gt;4. Contact those buddies and let them know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven Random Juicy (or not so juicy) Facts about Lil' Ol' Me-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I can pick up small items with my toes. (pens, paper clips, coins, my sandals by their straps)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm crazy about wild nail polish colors. (sometimes I wear a different color on each nail)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm fully grown, but still don't have my license. (Though I do have my permit)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. One of the jobs I had in my youth was printing keyboard keys for laptops. (Ironic- that's what I'm typing this blog on.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I was/still am a huge Quantum Leap fan. (Scott Bakula can STILL make me weak in the knees)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I've wanted to be a writer since I was 10/11 years old. (I need it like I need air in my lungs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I LOVE to karaoke. (Warning **You may need earplugs if you're within earshot**)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~Now~&lt;br /&gt;To pass the torch on to some really Fantabulously Sweet Bloggers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://devonmatthews.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devon Matthews&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cherylstjohn.blogspot.com/"&gt;Cheryl St. John&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pasttheprint.blogspot.com/"&gt;Renee Vincent&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cherylnorman.com/blog/?p=137"&gt;Cheryl Norman&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://keriford.com/blog/"&gt;Keri Ford&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://michellewillingham.com/blog/"&gt;Michelle Willingham&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://petticoatsandpistols.com/"&gt;Petticoats &amp;amp; Pistols&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://staceykayne.blogspot.com/index.html"&gt;Stacey Kayne&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://jauntyquills.com/"&gt;The Sisterhood of the Jaunty Quills&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://turquoisemorningpressblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Turquoise Morning Press&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thanks again Cherie! Have a great Friday people, and Happy Memorial Day Weekend! Enjoy this long weekend, take it easy, have fun with family and friends and relish the fact that Summer is on it's way! Be careful and safe travels to all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8309122700525395145?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8309122700525395145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8309122700525395145' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8309122700525395145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8309122700525395145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/05/irresistibly-sweet-blog-award.html' title='The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bFNjEYht3mo/Td-T5-2FMUI/AAAAAAAAA5o/7Z0XzldJiXk/s72-c/sweetblogaward.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1475117133338836975</id><published>2011-05-18T09:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T11:21:13.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlighting Errors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvR5GlhkNB0/TdPsoFJ6QFI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/C2dXwLW-Jk4/s1600/dsc02455.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvR5GlhkNB0/TdPsoFJ6QFI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/C2dXwLW-Jk4/s200/dsc02455.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608086134329065554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's funny how easy it is to fall into a pattern with grammar and speech to the point that you don't even realize you do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it through the main edits and hope to goodness when I reformatted the file, it took the right way. (All the indents and margins settings). I did, what I considered, a really good sweep through the manuscript and spent quite a bit of time altering sentences and doing some rewrites that I felt improved and made it read smoother and better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started through the checklist of things to watch for. I started with the adverbs. Find -ly words and see what my grand total is. It was SCARY. Editor's suggestion- Find the total and then remove at least half, if not more of these tricky, excessive words that pretty it up a bit, make you feel "frilly," but too often take up space and restrict the flow of the writing when they aren't necessary. Too much of a good thing-too much of ANYTHING- can't be good for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there it was- this HUGE number staring me down. I'm too embarrassed to say just HOW many were in there, but let's just say its on the backside of the hundreds. I thought-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS THIS INSANITY? DID I REALLY THROW THEM ABOUT WILLY-NILLY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized though a few words I used can't be counted. Like the word FAMILY. Is it an adverb? Really? No, of course not. It's a noun or an adjective depending on how you use it and it just happens to end in -ly. The name "Emily" is also a noun, not an adverb, but when searching -ly words, it snags them too-lumping them in with all the other bright little yellow highlights on the screen. It's a cinch, I'm not going to be removing the word family or the name of the heroine's deceased grandmother, whom she still thinks of often in loving remembrance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say that the word I was surprised to see I use most was- ONLY. I lost count of how many times I found it. I've removed and replaced more than half of these dreadful words, so far, and intend to tackle what's left today. Then I'll be moving on to the next thing on the editor's checklist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say~~It's an eye opening experience when you start zeroing in on the flaws in your writing. In ways, it's devastating, but at the same time it's also liberating. My mind is more aware of this vice now and it will make me a stronger writer for having that knowledge as I continue to tackle edits on this and other manuscripts and as I write more novels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It never hurts to remind yourself, as an author, of your imperfections, so long as you don't let it hinder your process. Highlighting errors sharpens your mind and your writing and that's ALWAYS a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl3JxcIkZIo/TdPsvzlLKyI/AAAAAAAAA5g/ZQPH8A7wIw8/s1600/1102727133-15014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl3JxcIkZIo/TdPsvzlLKyI/AAAAAAAAA5g/ZQPH8A7wIw8/s200/1102727133-15014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608086267050535714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful Hump Day&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;Write On!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1475117133338836975?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1475117133338836975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1475117133338836975' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1475117133338836975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1475117133338836975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/05/highlighting-errors.html' title='Highlighting Errors'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WvR5GlhkNB0/TdPsoFJ6QFI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/C2dXwLW-Jk4/s72-c/dsc02455.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3463457962618718626</id><published>2011-05-07T09:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T09:08:17.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;“A hundred years from now it will not  matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the  kind of car I drove...but the world may be different because I was  important in the life of a child.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xQgkn4PRrOU/TcVSMqpqjKI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/rdKzqcdll_w/s1600/MothersDay11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xQgkn4PRrOU/TcVSMqpqjKI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/rdKzqcdll_w/s400/MothersDay11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603975688893402274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3463457962618718626?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3463457962618718626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3463457962618718626' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3463457962618718626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3463457962618718626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xQgkn4PRrOU/TcVSMqpqjKI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/rdKzqcdll_w/s72-c/MothersDay11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1895292317919444361</id><published>2011-04-18T19:20:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T10:28:34.109-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='focus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manuscripts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Cowgirl Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mrg.bz/u6Odgf"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 332px; height: 224px;" src="http://mrg.bz/u6Odgf" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I need a boot camp to reteach me how to focus. All the manuscripts I have finished were written in great part due to having, what I would call, writerly tunnel vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was SO wrapped up in story and writing that I simply zoned out of "life" whenever my fingers came to rest on the keyboard. There was peace in it. I had a Muse and my focus was so tight, I didn't get distracted by much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a rodeo rider of writing, my focus was a bucking bronco and I hung on for dear life, clearing the 8 seconds without so much as blinking an eye. I loved it. The thrill of every moment I tapped out more words, creating a reality within my fantasy worlds and breathing life into characters that had, thus far, only existed in my imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, home life altered when my husband had to change jobs. And then came his on-the-job injuries and rehabilitation from knee surgery and other disruptions in the background of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No longer able to rely on a Monday through Friday schedule- one that I had once relied on so heavy to get so many words pumped out- Now my weeks are this buckshot of scattered hours and odd days off. My normalcy has been shot all to bits and I'm left picking pellets out of myself, peering through the holes that remain in my routine and wondering how to piece them together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to turn our current schedule into something I'm able to "use." It doesn't seem to be working for me though. I can't concentrate, I find myself thinking and dwelling on all the time I waste not being productive in any way. Yes, I just said it- I'm wasting time by wasting time. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've cast aside my yoga and walking as well as my writing. And I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to come back to my center- to find the focus that has seemingly vanished from my grasp.  Yoga was one thing I've found that was helping me center myself emotionally and the walking made me feel better physically. Now I need to get my mental focus in check, for my writings sake, and bring all those things into balance together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have to play around with our weekly schedule and see if there isn't some way to alter my waking/sleeping hours to make this work not just for me but for the kids and my husband's schedules, too. It needs tweaking, especially on hubby's odd days off, which feel like a weekend in the middle of the week and instead of enjoying it, we're running to the grocery and taking care of the things that we would normally put off until the "weekend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is, that leaves the weekend not feeling like much of one at all and for me it's a downright nuisance. My brain works on a Monday-Friday schedule- I guess because I have little ones in school, but with my husband's work schedule, wherein Monday-Friday is this foreign idea that doesn't mesh, I'm stuck trying to figure out where I can fit MY schedule in. Especially now that I am going to be published. I HAVE to get my edits done in a timely manner and be able to make a schedule that works for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nighttime writing and editing and working might be my only course of action. I've contemplated it before, but always end up going to bed when my husband does on the nights he has work the next day, but also because I have the kids to get up for school during the week, as well. I go to bed with a serious guilt complex that tears me between responsibilities to home and responsibilities to my writing career. Especially when the family doesn't see that I HAVE responsibilities now, not just to them, but to my publisher and that this isn't just "Mommy's" hobby or the little wife's "playtime."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mrg.bz/LLUE7m"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 205px;" src="http://mrg.bz/LLUE7m" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So there it is---Maybe I'm a bit too southern, but I'm afraid it's time to cowgirl up, pull up my big girl panties, dust off my denim, slap my hat back on my head and stuff my feet into my ass-kicking boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't have a a special camp for it, I'll just have to take the bull by the horns (or bronco by his mane) and lasso my focus back into submission, bucking and snorting the entire way. I'll break the beast just enough to get back up there astride and tame it to my needs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1895292317919444361?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1895292317919444361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1895292317919444361' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1895292317919444361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1895292317919444361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/04/cowgirl-up.html' title='Cowgirl Up!'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6204436663173063850</id><published>2011-03-26T15:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T15:12:07.555-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='author'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='publication'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Stepping Through...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-akzhi_wmT0Y/TY4U234GPII/AAAAAAAAA44/NYm1E5W3rzU/s1600/OpenDoor.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-akzhi_wmT0Y/TY4U234GPII/AAAAAAAAA44/NYm1E5W3rzU/s320/OpenDoor.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588427120558095490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I look back over the last two weeks in amazement and I know it still hasn't sunk in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've stepped over the threshold though, into what I consider my tropical paradise. For all intents and purposes, I'm now a signed author, which means that in the very REAL future months I will be able to lay claim to a title I have only ever DREAMED I could call myself-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Published Author&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little ol' me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's still very surreal and as I sit here typing, I'm overwhelmed by the emotions the thought stirs in my heart. It's so thrilling it brings tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know they aren't the first I've shed in joy over this and they won't be the last because I'm an emotional person by nature. I know there will be other moments when it sinks in a little more, when the idea becomes more concrete in my mind and it will hit me all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I welcome those moments, more now than ever before, because this was a dream I hadn't hoped to realize so soon- &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;if ever&lt;/span&gt;. I've heard of people "living the dream"- I just never thought I would be one of them. Though I love fairy tales and fantasy I'm a very "reality" based personality. I don't like to kid myself into believing the impossible. I make sure the bills are paid before we spend money on non-necessities. I generally stick to routine, though I'd love to occasionally drop everything and be spontaneous. I guess my feet are planted pretty firmly. I'm grounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now- I opened the door. Crossing the threshold I find myself standing at an intersection, staring out at all the different paths that veer off in varied directions from me, out there up ahead. Some I must start down now in order to merge with other ones later up the road. The way isn't perfectly clear, but I know that what's out there is what I've been looking for- it's my "impossible" becoming "I'm possible." Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't thought of it before, but that's it. "I'M" possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm stepping through....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6204436663173063850?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6204436663173063850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6204436663173063850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6204436663173063850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6204436663173063850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/03/stepping-through.html' title='Stepping Through...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-akzhi_wmT0Y/TY4U234GPII/AAAAAAAAA44/NYm1E5W3rzU/s72-c/OpenDoor.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2725566377628538360</id><published>2011-03-19T11:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T11:08:20.372-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And So It Begins...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Stories of Love- Transformed and Given Wings to Fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b5hUYVD0OvM/TYTEtnwno1I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/K7rOcYaFBkw/s1600/100_7262.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b5hUYVD0OvM/TYTEtnwno1I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/K7rOcYaFBkw/s320/100_7262.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585805725892322130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yesterday I signed my very first book contract with &lt;a href="http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/"&gt;Turquoise Morning Press&lt;/a&gt;. Mind you, I'm still an "aspiring" author- I will always be ASPIRING to more, but over the coming year, I will no longer be able to say I'm unpubbed. The dream is becoming a reality and quickly, I might add.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My morning yesterday started off with a low hum- but I knew what I was going to do once the kids were off to school. I was going to open my email and sign my contract for Castaway Hearts, my historical romance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technically this began at the start of February when I submitted, but the hum has grown into a pulse-throbbing buzz over the past week since I received "the call" or in this case, the email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have kept this on the DL because it was my very first submission and of course there's the fear and nerves I had to wrestle with, though I wanted to scream it from the roof tops that I took the plunge by finally putting myself out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But---there was also the knowledge that most first subs don't make it. At least not that first time around. Sometimes it takes a lot of submissions and rejections before you can find a home for your manuscripts. That gave me pause to hold my tongue and not breath a word of it but to the fair few I trusted with such knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is at the core of this ginormous step because she insisted I hit "send" while we were on the phone that day. She swore she wouldn't get off the phone with me until I did it and so there it was. She and I both laughed when I cried out—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There, I hit send....I can't take it back now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest- I was prepared for a rejection more than a contract offer. I don't really know what I expected, but I will say that I still find myself sporadically caught between tears of joy and the laughter of elation- somewhere between jumping up and down hysterically like a teenage girl and pinching myself to make sure this isn't a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's surreal and fantastical and I keep having to remind myself to just take it one breath at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep breaths to steady myself. Deep breaths to calm me when the forms and information seem to be coming from all directions so quickly that I get overwhelmed. It's just a matter of letting it sink in and that might take a little while what with the forms I have to fill out- info, bio, blurbs and cover art ideas, adjusting my social networking sites, etc. Over the next several months and weeks I will post as I get things taken care of, to share in this journey- as I said I would which will include when I get my author's bio up on the publisher's site- I'll post the link to that and the community I'll be involved in. When I get a website up and running- I'll post that too, so you can find me, join me, follow and what not. (Speaking of- I still need to link to my Twitter from here, where you can follow me now if you want. I'm still new to it though, so there's foundation work and building yet to be done.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you informed, so stay tuned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2725566377628538360?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2725566377628538360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2725566377628538360' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2725566377628538360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2725566377628538360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And So It Begins...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b5hUYVD0OvM/TYTEtnwno1I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/K7rOcYaFBkw/s72-c/100_7262.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-390802158733218278</id><published>2011-02-28T07:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T07:25:31.609-06:00</updated><title type='text'>KYRW 2011 Spring into Writing Workshop</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kentucky Romance Writers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2011 Spring into Writing Workshop&lt;br /&gt;With Literary Agent Scott Eagan&lt;br /&gt;Saturday March 19th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aBS1wsMNovQ/TWk5mbP4u3I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/qSiw_m8HJvw/s1600/Scott%2BEagan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 309px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aBS1wsMNovQ/TWk5mbP4u3I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/qSiw_m8HJvw/s320/Scott%2BEagan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578052945787272050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Scott Eagan- Literary Agent&lt;br /&gt;Greyhaus Literary Agency&lt;br /&gt;Scott draws on his extensive background in education, writing and literature to assist the writers at Greyhaus. He has a BA in English/Literature, a MA in Creative Writing and a MA in Literacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott is also a writer and is an active member of Romance Writers of America. He is a stay-at-home dad and is active in community work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greyhaus Literary Agency currently represents (or represented) Bronwynn Scott, Susan Edwards, Ann Lethbridge, Jennifer Morey, Ryshia Kennie, Nikki Poppen, Tawny Taylor, Melissa Mayhue and others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Scott's looking for: Only romance, specifically contemporary, women's fiction, historical, paranormal, romantic suspense and category.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more information visit his website at &lt;a href="http://www.greyhausagency.com/"&gt;www.greyhausagency.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cost for the Saturday event is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;$30 for KYRW members&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;$40 for non-members&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; (Does not include lunch.) All tour charges for Friday are the responsibility of the individual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pre-Workshop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Events...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p8No1A1fCH0/TWk9y4Ij4uI/AAAAAAAAA3g/yZacq8Pi72Q/s1600/Horse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 208px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p8No1A1fCH0/TWk9y4Ij4uI/AAAAAAAAA3g/yZacq8Pi72Q/s320/Horse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578057557746115298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tour of Claiborne Farm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;11:00 AMA tour of historic Claiborne Farm Secretariat's final resting place.  &lt;a href="http://www.bing.com/maps/default.aspx?q=Claiborne+Farm&amp;amp;mkt=en-US&amp;amp;FORM=BYFD#JmNwPTM4LjIwOTczNX4tODQuMjUyNjYmbHZsPTEzJmRpcj0wJnN0eT1yJnJ0cD1hZHIufnBvcy4zOC4xODc3OTdfLTg0LjI0NjQyM183MDMlMjBXaW5jaGVzdGVyJTIwUmQlMkMlMjBQYXJpcyUyQyUyMEtZX0NsYWlib3JuZSUyMEZhcm1fKDg1OSklMjA5ODctMjMzMF9lX1lOMzQweDYzODg5MjMmbW9kZT1EJnJ0b3A9MH4wfjB+"&gt;Directions&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lunch- Wallace Station&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1:00- Tour of Three Chimneys Farm in Midway, home of Derby winner Big Brown, stud Dynaformer, and many other top horses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3:00- Tour of Woodford Reserve in Versailles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;6:00- Dinner at Malone's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 127px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RntFVQtAbvg/TWlEimpSXXI/AAAAAAAAA3w/MLiK-l2iRYQ/s320/TMP.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578064974755028338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;T.M.P.  will be sponsoring an informal AFTER DINNER Wine, Cheese and Chocolate  State of the Industry talk with Scott at the hotel. (Check out &lt;a href="http://www.turquoisemorningpress.com/"&gt;Turquoise Morning Press&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Saturday Events&lt;/span&gt;- &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9 AM- 5 PM, with lunch break 12-1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Scott Eagan Presentation-&lt;br /&gt;Marketing Your Story to Editors and Agents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;During the session, participants will:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Determine if they are ready to submit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Determine their own niche in the writing world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Learn how to find the best agent and editor for their work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Learn to Write an effective query letter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Learn to write an effective synopsis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;For those daring enough, bring your query letters to be read out loud for immediate critique by Scott.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Pitch Sessions- &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mr. Eagan will be taking pitch appointments, which will be scheduled on a &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;first come, first served&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; basis the day of the workshop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where: Hyatt Place Conference Room&lt;br /&gt;2001 Bryant Rd.&lt;br /&gt;Lexington, KY 40509&lt;br /&gt;859-296-0091&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lexington.place.hyatt.com/hyatt/hotels/place/index.jsp"&gt;Directions and Rates&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hosted by the Kentucky Romance Writers.&lt;br /&gt;Please visit our website for more information:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kentuckyromancewriters.com/"&gt;Kentucky Romance Writers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or contact KYRW Pres. Jennifer Madden at&lt;br /&gt;authorjmmadden@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a PDF version of the brochure click link below-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kentuckyromancewriters.com/PDF/workshop%20brochure.pdf"&gt;2011 Spring into Writing Workshop Brochure&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-390802158733218278?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/390802158733218278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=390802158733218278' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/390802158733218278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/390802158733218278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/02/kyrw-2011-spring-into-writing-workshop.html' title='KYRW 2011 Spring into Writing Workshop'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aBS1wsMNovQ/TWk5mbP4u3I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/qSiw_m8HJvw/s72-c/Scott%2BEagan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3991118729644053738</id><published>2011-02-22T12:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T12:54:04.350-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What is a Kiss?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: The sure, sweet cement, glue and lime of love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;~ Robert Herrick ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-50knRT_fUok/TWP14BhVNRI/AAAAAAAAA1w/Hm-B06FwE0s/s1600/278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 123px; height: 92px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-50knRT_fUok/TWP14BhVNRI/AAAAAAAAA1w/Hm-B06FwE0s/s320/278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576571106444522770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;I've been having a lot of dreams about it. Kissing, that is. For some reason it's been on my mind and I take that as a sign that it's good timing for a blog about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a lot that goes into it when writing romance. From the moment the hero and heroine meet there's all those questions hanging uncertainly in the air. Whether they like each other or loathe each other, there's that anticipation of-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEN are they going to kiss for the first time?&lt;br /&gt;HOW will they feel about it?&lt;br /&gt;WHAT happens next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all truly inspiring romantic relationships, it starts with a kiss~ whether they're real or fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately in real life, first kisses aren't always what they're cracked up to be and some can be downright disgusting—gotta kiss a lot of frogs and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike those icky first kisses in reality, the FIRST KISS of a novel BETTER be good. If it isn't, you can bet your bottom dollar that relationship is heading out on a one-way trip to Not-Happening-Ville and you're not going to keep the reader interested long enough to finish the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've kissed a few frogs in my time who were awful, but then there were some who were very good kissers, while a few "princely" men couldn't kiss well if their lives depended on it. It's a crap shoot cause everyone has a different take on what makes a good kiss and not everyone is good at it or they are only good at it with certain partners. Like locks and keys, only so many will fit together and work right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for example this dream I had the other night. A famous musician was flirting with me, reciting dark poetry and trying to woo me with words and that was great, but when I finally kissed him, his lips and tongue were paper-thin and it was like trying to kiss a ribbon blowing and flapping around in the breeze. That is so totally NOT the way I would write a first kiss in a novel. Just the imagery alone makes me think "Ewww..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kisses are so individual and unique to each person. Some are sweet and almost innocent- leaving you giggling and breathless like a silly school girl afterward. Some are like being jack-hammered to death. Some are dry, some are so wet it leaves you wondering if it was a real kiss or if you were just mistaken for a kitten and being bathed by a momma cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some are 'meh"- hardly worth remembering or being reminded of. But then there are those that you could never forget-the ones that make your feet tingle or your heart quiver or set the butterflies in your stomach into a tizzy- even years later when thought of. Those are remembered for a lifetime and TIME doesn't forget kisses like that. Those are the ones that steal your heart, wrapping it up and making everything pale in comparison. A kiss like that is like the mingling of souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as a writer—and/or a reader— How do you like the hero and heroine's first kiss to be? Does it need to be sweet? Earth-shattering? Sexy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or does the personalities and the situations set the tone for what kind of kiss it should be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite "kissing" poems-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;Percy Bysshe Shelley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;The fountains mingle with the river,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;And the rivers with the ocean;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;The winds of heaven mix forever,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;With a sweet emotion;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nothing in the world is single;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;All things by a law divine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;In one another's being mingle;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;Why not I with thine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;See! the mountains kiss high heaven,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt; And the waves clasp one another;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;No sister flower would be forgiven,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;If it disdained it's brother;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;And the sunlight clasps the earth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;And the moonbeams kiss the sea;--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;What are all these kissings worth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;If thou kiss not me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;(excerpt from a poem by my soul♥mate)&lt;br /&gt;"Twenty-seven years spent in blissful sadness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;Never being me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;You made me see myself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;For this I will damn you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;With kisses and my embrace." ~K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1HRfYqMky-Q/TWQFzgo14QI/AAAAAAAAA2A/yg09786Ssb4/s1600/weddingday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1HRfYqMky-Q/TWQFzgo14QI/AAAAAAAAA2A/yg09786Ssb4/s320/weddingday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576588621084221698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3991118729644053738?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3991118729644053738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3991118729644053738' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3991118729644053738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3991118729644053738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-is-kiss.html' title='What is a Kiss?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-50knRT_fUok/TWP14BhVNRI/AAAAAAAAA1w/Hm-B06FwE0s/s72-c/278.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-7326507609605309784</id><published>2011-02-14T07:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T09:32:31.460-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qn8EjI_duNg/TVlG4kcGcOI/AAAAAAAAA1I/-xJ05lVBsw8/s1600/PA222196.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qn8EjI_duNg/TVlG4kcGcOI/AAAAAAAAA1I/-xJ05lVBsw8/s320/PA222196.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573563951515857122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Valentine's Day, as we know it, is about love, though its history sheds no light on that matter. I guess over time, things shift and transform- transcend- into what we make of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most see it as a day about romantic love—and it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT it is also about friendly love and family love and love and kindness for a stranger. Love and tenderness for our pets, our children—those who mean the most to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day reminds me of loves long lost as well as the love I have. It gives me pause to contemplate the future and those precious happily-ever-afters I'm prone to write about. It's also about loving ourselves, which is something I think we all forget from time to time. Loving ourselves is just as important as love from other sources.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many have their Valentine- someone who'll make this day extra special just by being in your life, but don't forget to make time to love yourself today, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carve out a few moments to enjoy a book, or watch your favorite movie or television show. Listen to some guilty pleasure music. Take a bubble bath. Put on a little make-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yoX-AGZuSZ8/TVlG4_M-0KI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/5GmMhWJYmE8/s1600/100_5240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yoX-AGZuSZ8/TVlG4_M-0KI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/5GmMhWJYmE8/s320/100_5240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573563958700200098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anything that gives YOU the love you deserve from YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's Day,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from one hopeless romantic to the masses—&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give love and it shall be returned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-7326507609605309784?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/7326507609605309784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=7326507609605309784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7326507609605309784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/7326507609605309784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qn8EjI_duNg/TVlG4kcGcOI/AAAAAAAAA1I/-xJ05lVBsw8/s72-c/PA222196.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-4127782072265617282</id><published>2011-02-01T16:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T16:14:12.248-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TUhmOVMwx3I/AAAAAAAAA0s/-oP-N7f_03g/s1600/IND-EDU-071118-11.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 220px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TUhmOVMwx3I/AAAAAAAAA0s/-oP-N7f_03g/s320/IND-EDU-071118-11.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568813335638493042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been thinking a lot lately about having a "plan" and I've noticed that in my writing circles, there's a lot of talk about it, as well, seeing as how we've started a new year and it's always good to assess or reassess your plan—your goals—for your writing career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a daunting idea because I can't say I've ever sat down and actually made a plan for mine. I know I'm capable of writing a first draft in a month, when I put my nose to the grindstone. I can edit till I'm blue in the face. I'm learning to write query and synopsis while pulling out my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've never looked ahead to 6 months, a year, five years down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that comes from growing up believing you should live for today, because tomorrow is not promised. It's hard to balance between that well meaning adage and real life, wherein you need to plan ahead if you want to have a successful life, family, career, time for recreation, etc. It's good to have goals for IF and WHEN tomorrow does come because usually it will, even if we shouldn't expect it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It quite the conundrum. To be or not to be- to plan or not to plan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm starting February off with a bang. It's better than sitting around staring at the wall and wallowing in silly useless self-pity because I'm too afraid to step outside my comfort zone. I stepped outside it today, but I'll save that for another blog sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least if I make my objectives known to myself and I make them obtainable, I have something to work toward. Writing is a business and in order to succeed in my little corner I'm scratching out, I have to look at it that way and remember I have to work at it, stay consistent and follow through on goals in order to get it off the ground and keep that business afloat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No plan down on paper yet, but I'm heading in that direction. I need to  know what I'm doing. I need to make a plan, plan the work and work the  plan. Sounds complicated, but I'm up for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-4127782072265617282?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/4127782072265617282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=4127782072265617282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4127782072265617282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4127782072265617282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/02/plan.html' title='The Plan'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TUhmOVMwx3I/AAAAAAAAA0s/-oP-N7f_03g/s72-c/IND-EDU-071118-11.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3879408994875755443</id><published>2011-01-05T11:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T15:39:30.652-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Year, A New Me...</title><content type='html'>I'm running behind in blogging about my intentions for 2011. Part of that is because I don't really have a clue where to go from here. What I do know is that I'm extremely tired of floating along like I have nothing better to do with myself. I've been in this stagnant sludge for about 2-3 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it laziness, depression, procrastination...it has several names in my mind. I've been dealing with personal issues, deaths in my family, and just generally- Life. I lost my balance somewhere. The writing train ran out of steam and I've yet to get it fired back up properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quitting smoking nearly two years ago was a decision I am proud of and I know I feel better and it was a good thing to do not just for financial and health reasons, but because it sets a good example for my kids. I don't miss it most of the time, though the weight gain has not been a pleasant side effect, or my lack of motivation to get up and get moving to drop the weight. That's something I intend to put more effort into this year. I have to do something about it because I'm at a breaking point mentally and emotionally and physically. My body reminds me daily that it's not happy or in shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weight has added to the emotional baggage I carry around and that in turn, affects my writing. I don't feel lovable, pretty or sexy in this "heavy" body. Not feeling that way makes me not care or want to write stories about being loved/lovable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I should love myself for who I am, no matter my size, but I feel like a slug and I don't like "me" too much. I don't like my characters because they tend to reflect the parts and characteristics within me right now that I don't like- the parts that are ugly and dissatisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm healthier, I have a better self-image. I don't need to be skin &amp;amp; bones, but I do need to feel good about me again and I need to be able to "breathe" in my own skin. So that's part of the plan. Lose weight and love ME again so that I can love my writing- most especially because I have missed that fire, that spark I had several years ago where I was writing so much my wrists ached and my mind was constantly active with ideas and stories and plots. I had so much joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back there...When I write- I'm Alice- those stories hidden in my heart and mind are MY Wonderland and I miss it SO much. I've been away too long and though I know I can't take up residence there permanently, I still want to go back for visits...more often than I have in the past few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of the ways I intend to "get" to my Wonderland was to reassess my writing atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my laptop early last year, with the intention of being able to be mobile, to go and write where I wanted. I set up a "writing nook" in the bedroom, but in those months that followed, I find I've stayed pretty stationary, using the kids' mini folding table and sitting in the recliner, distracted by the television, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the same as when I sat at the desk on the regular PC. And it dawned on me that I did my best writing, my most prolific and productive writing, sitting right here in the living room at the computer desk, back to the television, headphones on with MY music so I could get in "the zone." Even with hubby and the kids right here in the same room, I got more done when I had a structured "writing area."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TSTkx0nN1YI/AAAAAAAAA0M/93Y73B8W2oc/s1600/100_8285.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TSTkx0nN1YI/AAAAAAAAA0M/93Y73B8W2oc/s320/100_8285.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558819384669885826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And the more I've thought about it, the more the thought gnawed at me that, since the hard drive on the desktop crashed and we can't afford to get it fixed at the moment, it was just collecting dust and taking up space....work space I could be "WORKING" at. So today I cleared a place in the spare bedroom to put the regular PC temporarily until we can get it fixed and I dusted the desk and made me a writing nook again...back where I do my best work. And look at me...after struggling to write my New Year's blog, here I am, doing it, with very little trouble. I already feel inspired. :o) It's good to have my area back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to getting words down- LOTS of them...Bring it ON!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3879408994875755443?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3879408994875755443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3879408994875755443' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3879408994875755443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3879408994875755443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-new-me.html' title='A New Year, A New Me...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TSTkx0nN1YI/AAAAAAAAA0M/93Y73B8W2oc/s72-c/100_8285.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3046557977866273114</id><published>2010-12-20T10:37:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T10:52:28.348-06:00</updated><title type='text'>At the Heart of It....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQ9np4N3NyI/AAAAAAAAA0A/jD_wPLa3kCc/s1600/Christmas2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 277px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQ9np4N3NyI/AAAAAAAAA0A/jD_wPLa3kCc/s320/Christmas2010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552770834733938466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This year has felt different to me. I'm just not in the spirit of things. There's a melancholy dwelling in my heart and I can't find my Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decorated, wrapped presents (all but what I wrap Christmas Eve night), sent out Christmas cards and today and the rest of this week I'll be tackling treats for family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm running behind (though I feel like that all the time anymore), but Christmas will be upon us in five days. Count 'em- 5 days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not in the mood for it and in all honesty, will be glad when it's over. How sad is that? Normally I enjoy the holiday, but this year, I'm far from filled with Whoville jubilation...no...I'm feeling a little Grinchy- like before his heart grew three sizes that day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, as I lay down to sleep, I started thinking about what this time of year means to me, especially since I'm feeling down and wanted to give myself things to renew my hope and happiness. I thought about this year's lack of joy in my heart, but also all the years past...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my conclusion is LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the heart of December is Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love for our families, our friends, and sometimes even strangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December, for the most part, can be summed up to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's at the heart of the matter, regardless of what holiday you celebrate in this last month of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about all the things that mean love to us. For me, it's my family, my friends, my cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the bite of cold in the air that sinks into your bones as the snow falls and the warmth of hearth and home, a welcoming escape from the blustery winds. It's the hush that falls over the world when snow blankets the ground and coats the trees. It's hot cocoa and sugar cookies. It's the glow and twinkle of the tree and ornaments and sparkly garland. It's the light in your kids' eyes when they see the tree fully decorated the first time, or when they sight a house decked out like Snoopy's doghouse with lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's doing things to bring a smile to another person's face, to fill their hearts with some gladness. It's good food and treats, it's time spent with those we care about. It's missing those who can't be with us, but remembering them just the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that made me wonder why December is the only time of year when we show this kind of love for our fellow man, woman, child, etc. Why do we only extend a helping hand or a kind word NOW?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suspect that we do this because the year is coming to a close and all the rest of the year has been consumed with worrying about the things that go on in our own little circles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year has been rather shoddy for my family- we've had car troubles and had to fix the one car we had and ended up buying another one, too. My husband has had health issues that we're still dealing with, including his recent knee surgery a little over a week ago. I've not been myself this year (turning 35 did something to me psychologically LOL) and so I've been struggling with personal emotional issues that aren't resolved- just buried at the moment. I'm still having a hard time getting my head back into my writing, which only leaves me feeling void, unable to fill the emptiness with something that brings me joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that brings me back to why December seems to be the time to show compassion and love and care for those outside the boundaries of our routine lifestyles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does December seem to be the ONLY month where we give ourselves permission to slow down, to visit with others, to care about them? Why is it the time of year we shrug off that cloak we use to isolate ourselves? But more importantly, why is this kindness and consideration only dragged out with the decorations, as though we pack it in after the holidays and save it up for next December?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The icy fingers of winter creep in and in their own way, they force warmth into us- encourage us to warm toward others in a way no other time of the year does. I guess that's why. As cold as December can be, it fills us with a warmth that emanates outward in our behavior and our lives. It works as a magnet, drawing us all together. It draws us together in love, and that's truly at the heart of it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3046557977866273114?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3046557977866273114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3046557977866273114' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3046557977866273114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3046557977866273114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/12/at-heart-of-it.html' title='At the Heart of It....'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQ9np4N3NyI/AAAAAAAAA0A/jD_wPLa3kCc/s72-c/Christmas2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2723877466583452671</id><published>2010-12-11T23:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T23:43:50.183-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQRVhfng8qI/AAAAAAAAAzg/ncPZemnEw7U/s1600/113440120035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQRVhfng8qI/AAAAAAAAAzg/ncPZemnEw7U/s320/113440120035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549654674738573986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This time of year is always a time of reflection. We cannot help ourselves but to think about the year behind us because we can't possibly know what's up the road ahead. A lot of times it isn't simply the year we've just been through, but other years, as well, because I think we all need to look back from time to time to see the chapters of our lives thus far—so we can appreciate who we were, who we are and where our journey might take us from here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just natural to revisit our history in our memories at this time of year when it seems family and friends are nearest as the year draws to its close. The winter season and the holidays fill us with the warmth of all the times we've had before with loved ones who are with us and those who've gone before us. I think that's also why this time of year is sometimes the HARDEST time to get through for those who've lost so many loved ones in their lives or have little that makes them truly happy to be alive. It makes it hard to be cheerful when you feel alone in this world, when times are hard, when things just aren't going smoothly, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQRVnelxHEI/AAAAAAAAAzo/CbqEIOraI6M/s1600/winter_scene.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQRVnelxHEI/AAAAAAAAAzo/CbqEIOraI6M/s320/winter_scene.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549654777542024258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I guess when we are forced indoors by cold weather, we're also made more aware of ourselves and our thoughts turn inward as well, to times long gone, people who've come into our lives and those who have departed, either by their own choosing or by death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been spent in quiet contemplation about that very thing- the past, that is and mostly on one person in particular. Much as I've been hurt in past relationships, I've always believed it would be my folly to ever take pleasure or laugh over their troubles or mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never ended any of my relationships- unfortunately I was always the dumped, not the dumper &amp;amp; I got my heart broken enough times that I stopped keeping track because it just hurt too much, but I would never wish them harm or heartache or sadness. I like to believe I'm a more compassionate person than that. At least, I like to hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then today I got a text. Random coincidence or what have you- an ex of mine talked to someone who knows someone close to me and told that person he should have stayed with me and he cried over losing me. He showed remorse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I laughed out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LAUGHED- just long enough for a twinge of guilt to shoot through me and make me clamp my lips tightly over my teeth to bite back another round of laughter. I felt so awful- so downright vile and EVIL, that it has gnawed at me all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no reason for me to laugh at his sadness or tears. I cried plenty over him because I loved him with all my heart, whether anyone else understood my reasons or not, even him. Most thought I was a fool and maybe I was, but I loved him and he knew it. I had a small inkling of how he felt toward me, but he never said it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....Maybe he really does realize, after nearly 10 years, what a mistake it was to let me go, but even before I met the man who is my husband now, it had been over between me and this other man for over a year. Before I left I even told him I was sorry when he tried to convince me to stay and be with him. It was too little too late and I told him so- I had loved him for 7 years and dated him off and on during that time, but I had felt like I had NEVER been enough for him and I finally reasoned I never would be, so I made a decision and moved on with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried very hard to prove he had changed and knew he wanted to be with me- he even had some of his friends try to plead with me on his behalf that things were different— that he was different. And I was moved by the effort, but not enough to run back into his arms, not after all the times he had hurt me and broken my heart. He was significant in my life and I loved him, still do- but not that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've worried about him these past years. I worried that he would end up alone and unhappy and I'm afraid that IS what's become of his life, but I used to tell him that he'd regret it someday- treating me like I meant so little, acting like I'd always be around for him to come back "home" to when he had the notion, when he was run out everywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His parting words to me when I got ready to move here, to make my new life, the life I'm living now, were "You'll be back in 3 months and I'll get what I want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't happen that way and now he finds himself, nearly 10 years later, crying on the shoulder of a stranger about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean to laugh, really I didn't. I really AM more compassionate than that, and I believe that it's better for me not to carry the anger, hatred and hurt from the past around like an ugly badge of survival as though I'm some victim. Sure I got involved and I got my heart broken, but everyone has or will at some point in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships happen and most have a beginning, a middle and an end, we just don't know the time frame when we start the relationship. Some feel like they're doomed from start, but last for decades while others feel like they'll last forever and then they end so abruptly you can't breath because the loss feels like a fatal gunshot wound through the heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a relationship doomed from the start, but I get it now that I'm older....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, for a brief moment it was as if I got some sort of justification, some sort of clarity that I wasn't SO wrong after all about how he felt about me. Perhaps I wasn't some young blubbering idiot when I believed he DID love me in his own way and that he just didn't know how to say it OR show it. Or maybe he didn't know it back then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter the case, I look back, I see the reflection, the ripple he was on the pond of my youth, and I'm thankful that he was there. Even though we went our separate ways, even though he's figured it out much too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't change the heartache he caused me all those years ago, no more than I can change the heartache he feels now. I feel bad that he has regrets in regard to me and I feel awful that I laughed to know he cried, but all I can do now is pray for him to find peace in his heart, for things that cannot be changed. Our feet cannot travel those roads anymore, we cannot retrace our steps except in our mind's eye and even then, it's not always wise to journey backward, for it gets us nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, they are only just reflections....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2723877466583452671?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2723877466583452671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2723877466583452671' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2723877466583452671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2723877466583452671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/12/reflections.html' title='Reflections...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TQRVhfng8qI/AAAAAAAAAzg/ncPZemnEw7U/s72-c/113440120035.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1139142411539919073</id><published>2010-11-29T14:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T14:13:49.901-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Short, Sweet and To the Point</title><content type='html'>I won my 5th NaNo- just a little while ago- hit 50,000 words and I'm done---- For now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with all the ones before, the story still needs to be finished, (about 25-30K more to go) but I've been sick for nearly 4 days and I need some down time to get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now it's like I've got a drainage reservoir in my head that could turn into Niagara Falls given the right circumstances. Hot tea and honey has done little to reduce the congestion. Neither has my NetiPot and my ears are still clogged up, though my throat is not as sore as it was the first day or so. Now it's mostly just the furnace between my ears and an achy body to go with it, but so far as I know, no fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think I deserve a little down time though. A hot shower might help do the trick, though a soft serve from Dairy Queen might make me feel even better...any takers on whether I could talk my hubby into driving 15 minutes to town and back again to get me one? LOL It'd be melted into sweet foamy milk by the time he got back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....off to shower and then rest..maybe fill out the rest of my Christmas cards and hopefully I'll feel up to my own personal reward for accomplishing NaNo this year-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINALLY getting to read &lt;a href="http://www.galenorn.com/"&gt;Yasmine Galenorn&lt;/a&gt;'s Harvest Hunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the book just before NaNo and normally I devour them in a couple of days, but I promised myself I would accomplish NaNo first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I need to get it done before the ARC of Blood Wyne arrives (the next book after HH) that I won from one of her blog contests. So excited to get to read it before it's even out on shelves! Thanks Yasmine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to pamper myself back to good health! Have a good one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1139142411539919073?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1139142411539919073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1139142411539919073' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1139142411539919073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1139142411539919073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/11/short-sweet-and-to-point.html' title='Short, Sweet and To the Point'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6800688008560045210</id><published>2010-11-19T08:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T08:42:07.100-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My Hero is the Sexiest Man Alive</title><content type='html'>No, seriously...Ben, the hero of the novel I'm writing for NaNo, is--- see-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.people.com/people/package/article/0,,20315920_20442733,00.html"&gt;THE Sexiest Man Alive 2010&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I modeled Ben Pryce and his twin brother Nick (whose story was the previous one I wrote) after Ryan Reynolds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TOaGb91eMLI/AAAAAAAAAzA/oq2fwhKcJlI/s1600/Ben.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TOaGb91eMLI/AAAAAAAAAzA/oq2fwhKcJlI/s320/Ben.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541264206539403442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See, I just knew that there was a reason Ryan had to be cast as my twins...I figured out a way to hang onto that image through two manuscripts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no dummy! Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not just sexy, but he's funny and sweet and well...just yummy to think about. ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been *casting* actors &amp;amp; actresses for my characters for a while now and this was the first time I had twins to write. Ryan fit what I needed for each character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One brother is a softhearted romantic artist, the other a loud playboy chef. Can you guess which one I'm writing now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...Ben hasn't exactly been reformed yet, but he's on his way already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope he doesn't lose his sex appeal, because he's naughty, but that's what makes him so good. He just needs a little heart to go with it and Sunni is the missing ingredient. She's earthy and open, but also has never been in love and swears she's not ready for it. Actually, she has sworn it off because she doesn't see herself as the marrying kind to be tied down to any man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad that's where this road is taking them! LOL They'll thank me for it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you can thank me for the Friday eye candy....He IS yummy, isn't he? ;o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6800688008560045210?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6800688008560045210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6800688008560045210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6800688008560045210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6800688008560045210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-hero-is-sexiest-man-alive.html' title='My Hero is the Sexiest Man Alive'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TOaGb91eMLI/AAAAAAAAAzA/oq2fwhKcJlI/s72-c/Ben.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3581096762484413221</id><published>2010-11-04T12:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T12:05:09.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Off To a Slow Start</title><content type='html'>I love my characters, don't get me wrong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know they have a great story to tell me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just find myself dawdling all during the day when I have like, ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO MYSELF....and then find myself making a mad dash to pump out the minimum words before I go to bed after the rush of homework, supper, baths, etc. I've been staying up three hours past my regular bedtime to write. For some reason, that seems to be working for me rather than trying to concentrate on it during the daytime- like right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tempted to turn my days around, at least for the month of November- of course, I'd still get up and get the kids off to school at their regular time, but it crossed my mind last night that I seem to write better in the evenings on this one. Perhaps I might be better off to go back to bed after the kids are gone for school and sleep until hubby gets home mid-afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I could still get my rest, be up with him and the kids until they go to bed, and still be able to stay up a bit longer to write once they're all in bed and the house settles down around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I have a routine and I hate to break it, even though I am breaking it bit by bit as this week wears on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps a bite for lunch and then solid concentration would help along with a little soundtrack to help me along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3581096762484413221?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3581096762484413221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3581096762484413221' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3581096762484413221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3581096762484413221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/11/off-to-slow-start.html' title='Off To a Slow Start'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8524359583949857821</id><published>2010-11-01T23:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T23:09:03.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1 Down</title><content type='html'>I spent most of the day fleshing the hero and heroine out so I knew more about them, but all said and done- I'm going to bed almost a couple hundred ahead of the minimum daily word count to make 50K by month's end- 1,840 (min= 1,667)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feels good. Tired being that I'm not used to being up at 11PM. Will have kids home tomorrow, so we'll see how THAT goes...LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you on the other side of sleep my friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8524359583949857821?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8524359583949857821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8524359583949857821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8524359583949857821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8524359583949857821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-1-down.html' title='Day 1 Down'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1849709735701868376</id><published>2010-11-01T09:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T09:59:00.647-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NaNoWriMo 2010</title><content type='html'>It is officially the first day of NaNoWriMo. Woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I'm revved about doing NaNo, though I haven't yet started writing. Instead, I tackled the dreaded dishes so I don't have fool with them later and put up laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also thrilled to say that I stayed up a little past my bedtime last night and FINISHED the WIP I'd been procrastinating over. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm the process of fleshing out my characters a little better and plan to get started soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it's going to be a GREAT day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put those fingers to the keys and join me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1849709735701868376?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1849709735701868376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1849709735701868376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1849709735701868376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1849709735701868376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/11/nanowrimo-2010.html' title='NaNoWriMo 2010'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-2404545338612477363</id><published>2010-10-20T06:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T07:18:38.497-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scurrying Away Like Leaves On The Breeze</title><content type='html'>October is getting away from us quickly. I know this because I can see NaNoWriMo from here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been participating since 2006. Wow...that only adds up to 4 years, but I have to count every year, so this will actually be my 5th year- participating and hopefully winning, as I have each previous attempt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month is just hurrying by though and doing NaNo has been weighing on my mind because I haven't yet finished writing LAST YEAR'S NaNovel. I've been trying to break through that wall that was keeping me from finishing it all year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a huge turning point when I finally added over 3,000 NEW words to the story and brought me that much closer to "the end." I've got less than 50 pages to write and believe I can get it done before November 1st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the better that I get it done, since the story I will be writing for NaNo is the next in line after the one I'm working on. For me, its imperative that I finish one before I start another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is going to be busy...getting the kids' Halloween costumes and grocery shopping, so I'd best "scurry" myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once all that's done, I'm seriously intending to zone out the hubby and kids this evening to get some more work done. Have a GREAT Hump Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-2404545338612477363?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/2404545338612477363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=2404545338612477363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2404545338612477363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/2404545338612477363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/10/scurrying-away-like-leaves-on-breeze.html' title='Scurrying Away Like Leaves On The Breeze'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8737293079471668509</id><published>2010-09-29T17:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T17:51:47.664-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SPEAK LOUD AND CLEAR</title><content type='html'>Last week, in honor of Banned Books Week, I ordered SPEAK by &lt;a href="http://madwomanintheforest.com/the-power-of-speaking-loudly/"&gt;Laurie Halse Anderson&lt;/a&gt; because of the ruckus I'd been reading about this one man's attempt to get it banned from his local school system, (albeit a school system his children do not attend and that he is not affiliated with) for being "soft pornography"—no less because of rape scenes in the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This infuriated me for so many reasons, as I mentioned in my previous blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the book last Friday and started reading it then, but as goes most of my weekends, I had things to do that kept me from what I most wanted to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday I got wrapped up in some revisions of one of my own manuscripts, but yesterday I got back to reading SPEAK. So deep in the story, I read through it in just a couple of hours, through laughter and tears. I had to step away from the computer yesterday and try to compose myself and my thoughts. I'm still having a hard time really putting into words what I'm feeling. I honestly wish I had known of this book's existence before now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is apparent that Mr. Scroggins did not read the book he's so adamant to get rid of—or if he did, he failed miserably to understand and recognize irony in the sarcastic "thoughts" of Melinda, the 13-year-old heroine of the story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The greatest injustice here is a massive lack of objectivity-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You have to read a story and get to know the character and his/her situation. You can't do that by going into it emotionally blocked and with the only intention of finding EVERYTHING you think is wrong, immoral and filthy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He basically judged a book by it's cover and the few lines that "jumped out" at him. His inadequate knowledge and single minded determination to rid his "world" of all things he deems sinful, wrong and immoral for children to be "subjected" to only further bolsters his self-righteous indignation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a man who so strongly supports educating and teaching the "truth" he needs to remember that sometimes the truth is ugly, that life is NOT always fair and that you cannot tuck your children away from the world and shield them from everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If he doesn't like the way the school system handles these things, then he doesn't have to send his kids to those schools. It's a simple solution. To my understanding, only one of his children attends the public school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being he's never been a girl, or a teenage one at that, I'm willing to bet he was that special adolescent who never did anything wrong. I'm sure he was the perfect son who never rebelled against the wishes of his parents or authorities. I guess he never felt like the adults around him were foolish, stupid and oblivious to the perils of being a hormonal teenager and he never misbehaved or did ANY of the things he finds so morally reprehensible in these books he wants banned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm also willing to bet that he's never been raped and has NO understanding of how HARD it is to talk about what happened, let alone believe you aren't the only one suffering the pain and agony and fear. You feel like the ONLY person who's ever been attacked, ever been violated in such a personal way and that no one else could possibly understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The selections he skimmed from the story for his examples were taken GREATLY out of context and he clearly misrepresented the book to the best of his ability to make it appear he knew what he was talking about. He armed himself with all the "lines" that seemed to most significantly get his fanatical point across.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He defined the book and scenes in the book as "soft pornography" in his opinion piece, but amusingly, he has since tried to retract that definition when his use of it was called into question. In fact, he claims he didn't call it that at all, though it's clear that he did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SPEAK is a far cry from the "definition" Mr. Scroggins labeled it. The rape scenes are in NO way gratuitous or graphic. They do not inspire sexual arousal, but more a sense of anger and desire to see justice- not just for Melinda, but for anyone who has ever gone through such a thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My children are still too young yet to read SPEAK, but only because neither of them have had sex education in school- YET. Once they have been educated about their changing bodies, hormones and sex, I think SPEAK will be a great learning tool to share with them and discuss. There are a lot of good points to learn from in the book- girls aren't objects, we are not alone in this world in times of trouble, and most importantly- never be afraid to SPEAK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will encourage my kids to read this and other banned/contested books, even if it isn't required in our school system. I, for one, would rather arm my children with knowledge and understanding and love than send them out into this big world wearing rose-colored glasses that tint their views with ignorance, misgivings and close-mindedness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8737293079471668509?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8737293079471668509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8737293079471668509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8737293079471668509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8737293079471668509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/09/speak-loud-and-clear.html' title='SPEAK LOUD AND CLEAR'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-9156561935367922762</id><published>2010-09-22T19:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T19:42:08.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Banned Books Week</title><content type='html'>In honor of &lt;a href="http://www.bannedbooksweek.org/info.html"&gt;Banned Books Week&lt;/a&gt; (September 25 through October 2) I'm going to step outside my comfort zone just a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks in part to one of my favorite writers, Yasmine Galenorn, I became aware of &lt;a href="http://madwomanintheforest.com/this-guy-thinks-speak-is-pornography/"&gt;Laurie Halse Anderson&lt;/a&gt;'s recent blog in regard to one man's call to ban Laurie's book SPEAK because it should be considered "soft pornography."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of two rape scenes in the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, I have not read this book, being its a young adult novel and I haven't read much in the way of those kinds of books in quite some time, but a couple of days ago after reading Laurie's blog I decided I AM going to. I ordered it and expect to get it sometime next week from Amazon and I'm going to read it during Banned Books Week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When issues reach the heart of me, it weighs heavily and the idea of a book being banned for such a ludicrous reason blew my mind. And made me toss and turn all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My issue with the man's reasons for banning the book bothered me to my core because in NO WAY would I EVER categorize rape as pornography.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merriam-Webster.com defines pornography as-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;1: the depiction of erotic behavior (as in pictures or writing) intended to cause sexual excitement&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;INTENDED TO CAUSE SEXUAL EXCITEMENT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, but I don't think writers ever set out to write a rape scene to arouse the reader.....Being raped is NOT sexually exciting or arousing for anyone but the rapist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea that anyone with a good heart and moral fiber would ever consider it pornography is beyond my comprehension and it disgusts me to think they could ever come to that conclusion in regard to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not get too deep into the details of my past, but I've been there and I am a survivor of such a violation of my physical being. It also violated my mental and emotional being and I know how mortifying it can be when the shock wears off and you are faced with the reality of what has happened and whether it changes the core of who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't "speak" about what happened to me and held the fear and anxiety inside for a long time, blaming myself, feeling as though I somehow "asked" for it, that I had fallen victim to being a statistic because it was someone I knew. Someone I considered a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time has helped heal it, but it still infuriates me when I see people who don't understand that rape is not a consensual pleasureable activity between two people. It's an invasion on so many levels and in so many ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for someone who speaks now from experience, I have to wonder HOW this man came to the conclusion that he could define rape in the same context as pornography and it begs the question- If you can't tell the difference between the two, who are you to judge?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-9156561935367922762?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/9156561935367922762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=9156561935367922762' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/9156561935367922762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/9156561935367922762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/09/banned-books-week.html' title='Banned Books Week'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8268893507695571859</id><published>2010-09-01T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T11:31:18.109-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That Only Happens in Romance Novels....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TH5zdxlcb7I/AAAAAAAAAxo/ZFPhk-RsBNI/s1600/whiterose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511969949311856562" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TH5zdxlcb7I/AAAAAAAAAxo/ZFPhk-RsBNI/s320/whiterose.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Do men ever apologize for things? Surely you jest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been my general experience that men don't apologize very often because they usually feel entitled or believe they are right the majority of the time. At least that's usually the case with my husband! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, after all, why should they apologize for being right about things they don't feel they've done wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today, one of my best friends proved to me that men can say they're sorry when they feel badly enough about something. And I thought that only happened in romance novels! Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, in this case, my friend apologized for being mad at me for the past week because he thought I'd given him a little too much hell over a situation he's been dealing with in his personal life. He thought I came down on him too hard. So he'd been mad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At ME....&lt;br /&gt;For a WEEK...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him I hadn't meant to make him mad. In fact, I had only hoped to spare him the hurt of obsessing over something he couldn't control at the time. I didn't want to see him make himself sick, worrying over something that would just have to pan out on its own....After all, I'll admit, I tend to do the same thing— far too often in my own life. I thought I was telling him not to "sweat the small stuff" but he thought I was just being b!tchy. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will tell you right now, though I'm STILL smiling about it. Not because I hurt his feelings and made him angry with me, which I rarely do, by the way...but that I never even knew he was mad, yet I received a heartfelt apology this morning out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I was feeling the lowest I have in quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plagued by heartbreaking dreams last night, I awoke melancholy and unsettled (as I stated on my Facebook status this morning). I had already shed &lt;strike&gt;a few tears&lt;/strike&gt; Niagra Falls, making my chest hurt and my eyes red and puffy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to dream vividly. Always have and probably always will...sometimes to the point of being intuitive. I can't count the instances of deja vu I've experienced in my lifetime, those moments of "I've done this/been here before."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also tend to dream in color, with most of my senses in tact and all the fibers of my being making the majority of my dreams feel as though it's reality. And well, the dreams I had last night left me full of sadness and heartache over circumstances in my life that have no rhyme or reason. Things I have no control over---ironic, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then my friend's called this morning, and his apology for the week-long grudge against me, took me by TOTAL surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know whether to feel bad that I hurt his feelings~ which I do because I love him and wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him intentionally~ OR laugh my butt off because I rarely, if EVER, get apologies for ANYTHING and this one was so random and out of the blue and hilarious that I nearly fell out of my chair. I've never been apologized to for something I didn't even know about! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could have simply kept his mouth shut and never told me. I would have been none the wiser. But it makes me smile, even now to think he cares about me enough as his friend that he couldn't stay mad and even felt that HE needed to apology for something I might never have known about except for his admittance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That speaks volumes about friendship. And about good men in general and I'm thankful to have him for one of my best friends. If only ALL men saw it that way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that only happens in romance novels, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8268893507695571859?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8268893507695571859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8268893507695571859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8268893507695571859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8268893507695571859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/09/that-only-happens-in-romance-novels.html' title='That Only Happens in Romance Novels....'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TH5zdxlcb7I/AAAAAAAAAxo/ZFPhk-RsBNI/s72-c/whiterose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-5215962930203563542</id><published>2010-08-20T12:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T12:28:57.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo Mercury...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TG6D9Wgwo7I/AAAAAAAAAxg/4yMhGdkZB00/s1600/240px-Mercury_in_color_-_Prockter07_centered.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507484484358939570" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TG6D9Wgwo7I/AAAAAAAAAxg/4yMhGdkZB00/s320/240px-Mercury_in_color_-_Prockter07_centered.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yep, we've hit another retrograde. The 3rd this year, with one more to go in December- rare to have more than 3 a year, or so I've read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it begins...a time of backwardness, forgetfulness. Being clumsy, having issues with technology and communication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Redo, reuse, rework, readjust- anything that means doing something over- Not all of that is a bad thing I guess- "redecorate" is a really good thing usually. ;o) And I've been thinking a lot about getting paint to do the living room or the kitchen, or my daughter's bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching for signs of it since the beginning of this month because usually the effects begin a few weeks before the retrograde actually begins and can last a few weeks past until things get back on a normal path. There have been plenty of things I've noticed around me in regard to the retro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke a chair, set the spare bedroom back up for my friends to visit. My daughter ran her knee into the corner of the coffee table last night. We had a brakelight go out. A lady in front of us at Wal-mart nearly walked out without one of her bags and the cashier had to chase her down to give it to her. A register over, a woman almost walked out with her deposit bag for whatever business she runs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a "crick" in my neck off and on for a week now and the cashier we had even said she'd had a pinch and could barely turn her head from side to side. I've recently misplaced an old yearbook. I JUST had it but now it's nowhere to be found. I've revisited the same spots and places I "feel" like I've left it or placed it and it's just *poof*- disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't started any new projects or I'd find myself redoing them, too, so it's a good thing I was planning to work on REvisions. ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-5215962930203563542?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/5215962930203563542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=5215962930203563542' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5215962930203563542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/5215962930203563542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/08/boo-mercury.html' title='Boo Mercury...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TG6D9Wgwo7I/AAAAAAAAAxg/4yMhGdkZB00/s72-c/240px-Mercury_in_color_-_Prockter07_centered.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-4096723723790168378</id><published>2010-08-18T13:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T13:57:14.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, The Tangled Webs We Weave...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TGwQXU4eA2I/AAAAAAAAAxY/xbbVEa4Pu1g/s1600/800px-Water_drops_on_spider_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 216px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506794437295866722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TGwQXU4eA2I/AAAAAAAAAxY/xbbVEa4Pu1g/s320/800px-Water_drops_on_spider_web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Recently I got the chance to read &lt;a href="http://www.janscarbrough.com/Books/Tangled.html"&gt;Tangled Memories&lt;/a&gt; by a fellow Kentucky Romance Writer &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/?ref=logo#!/pages/Jan-Scarbrough/204815941631?ref=ts"&gt;Jan Scarbrough&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been eager to read this story for quite some time and found myself devouring it in the span of 2 days. I started it on Monday and finished it last night just before I went to bed- with tears in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not usually one to read books in electronic format, but I toted my laptop back and forth from the living room to the kitchen while I fixed supper and help my daughter with homework. In fact, at one point my 7 year-old looks up at me because she'd heard a sniffle from my direction and she jumped up to hug me, asking why I was crying. Not exactly something you can explain to a 7 year-old, but I was enjoying the story so much I sort of lost track of where I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't normally do reviews, so much as recommendations, but this story was definitely worth the wait and I wanted to share. Set in modern time, it's a marriage of convenience tale, but with a twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fate. Karma. Kismet. Call it what you want, but in the end, it's about two souls combined...that's why they are soul mates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tangled Memories find Mary Adams reluctantly wed to Dr. Alexander Dominican under the pretense of killing two birds with one stone. The tragic death of Mary's husband has left her deeply in debt thanks to his gambling addiction. Alex needs a mother for his infant daughter, who's own mother died shortly after childbirth from cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex's proposal of marriage, nothing more than a business deal, seems the perfect answer to both their problems. Alex is content in the knowledge he's given his child a mother, and in some respects, the mother he never had, all the while Mary has been given a second chance at being a mother herself, after having a miscarriage in her youth that prevented her from having children of her own. It's a void she has felt in the years since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing could have prepared Mary for the firestorm of vivid dreams and visions she would be subjected to upon marrying Alex. The sudden uncharacteristic attraction to him leaves her weak-kneed, yet lonely for a husband who truly loves and desires her. Her fears and anxiety bubble to the surface in her new home, a gothic medieval museum to the past, made to seem even more so with the looming suits of armor, the dark rich tapestries, the hateful housekeeper, the mute servant Rufus and an invalid father tucked away in the shadows. It couldn't get anymore gothic than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time the overwhelming hallucinations propel her back in time, she becomes an invisible observer of another woman's life. A young girl who's life seems to parallel Mary's in ways that even she can't begin to fathom and awakens a desire to have a true, real marriage rather than the farce she and Alex have committed themselves to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the visions grow in intensity, so does the malicious attacks on her sanity. Someone is destroying her belongings, threatening her to leave, and even putting Alex's young daughter's life in danger. When Alex brushes off her concerns, her suspicions of his trusted servants, Mary has no where to turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bond keeps drawing her and Alex back to each other, keeping her there when everything else tells her she should go. Could he grow to love her? There were moments when she thought so, moments when she pondered that they were the couple in the past, the ones in her dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could that be? It was crazy and she wouldn't dare breathe a word of it to Alex or he'd have her tucked away in a padded cell somewhere. Or doped up on pills to keep her crazies at bay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just suppose for a moment that Love IS eternal...that it transcends time and lasts forever....that two souls, who've loved once and deeply, will continue to journey through the fabric of time to find each other...to love each other again and again, because I'd like to believe that...I'd like to believe that "love never dies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if that's so— wouldn't you do anything you could to make certain you found it, held onto it and cherished for as long as this lifetime would allow you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay...that's enough from me. I hope I've given this book a just appraisal and I have a feeling I'll be reading it again before I know it. It's definitely a keeper for me. If you follow the link at the top, you will find your way to Jan's website page for the book, though, at the moment it is out of print, but it will be reissued the summer of 2011. If you click on Jan's name above, it links you to her Facebook author page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-4096723723790168378?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/4096723723790168378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=4096723723790168378' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4096723723790168378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/4096723723790168378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/08/oh-tangled-webs-we-weave.html' title='Oh, The Tangled Webs We Weave...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TGwQXU4eA2I/AAAAAAAAAxY/xbbVEa4Pu1g/s72-c/800px-Water_drops_on_spider_web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1731956082214312460</id><published>2010-08-16T12:12:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T14:30:05.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Misguided Advice Of Loved Ones...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TGl0w-2CK5I/AAAAAAAAAxQ/sOZEfylmIOU/s1600/stockvault_16447_20090417.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506060404289317778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TGl0w-2CK5I/AAAAAAAAAxQ/sOZEfylmIOU/s320/stockvault_16447_20090417.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First off, let me shout out a big ol' thanks in Shiloh Walker's direction for her blog last week on the matter of &lt;a href="http://www.shilohwalker.com/website/?p=9201"&gt;BAD WRITING ADVICE&lt;/a&gt;. It was a much needed and welcome reminder that writing is as individual as the person who writes it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are we bound by absolute indisputable rules?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, not as some would have you believe. Not all techniques work the same or the best for everyone- not everyone writes the same stories or about the same things or in the same genres.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank Heaven for small favors because otherwise there wouldn't be books worth reading if we all wrote exactly the same. Where's the fun in that? There would be no such thing as a "fresh voice." What would agents and publishers do? The discovery of fresh new voices is what keeps the business alive and thriving. It's what creates best-selling authors and gives us big names to follow because they are unique in their storytelling ablility.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And guess what? I bet they didn't follow all the hard and fast rules of writing to get where they are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure you're wondering if this is leading anywhere...Do I have some brilliant thought or idea to toss your direction today? I suppose I do, but I won't know for sure until I get there myself...hahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, seriously— I do have something I'm pondering over today and that is a little something I call MISGUIDED ADVICE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Family and friends are always good at giving you advice, cheering you on or offering words of wisdom or common sense to help us through in life and well, all the aspects of it. Sometimes I think they step off the crazy train because they don't THINK before they speak- or write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wasn't that long ago that I was emailing with a friend (who's name shall not be known)- and was telling her how hard it was for me to get back into my writing, that I just wasn't in the "right" place to write the stories I love the most. Mind you, this friend is old enough to be my mother— is in fact the mother of a very dear friend of mine— but she can be very critical and opinionated about just about any subject matter you talk with her about. I love her dearly, but the conversation she and had back and forth in this email was hurtful and stirred up my defenses in regard to the genre I write.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I write romance. I'm fairly sure you're aware of that the same as I am if you've been following me for very long. I have, from a very early age, considered myself a romance novelist. I feel no shame in that, though there are days where I don't feel very romantic or feel that I have any romance in my own life. There are days when real life puts the honkers on it and makes me wonder why I put so much value in love and romance and writing about it when my own life is NOT one big neverending fairytale. I'm sure we've all been there and felt that way...as if we know NOTHING about real love, real happiness, real joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are days when I'm so tired or busy with all the other things that I HAVE to do, that I don't even want to think about it, even though I hope that it does exist. I want to believe, but there are days that I'd just as soon toss all that silly fluff out the window and be done with it because I'm just so mentally and emotionally drained from all the things in everyday life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought I expressed this eloquently and in a way that my friend would understand. That writing romance is hard when you don't feel like you have a grasp on the subject matter. Instead I got miguided advice from someone who thinks she's an expert on the matter because she has college degrees in library science and business and worked for years as a librarian. I got remarks like—&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Have you ever thought about writing something besides love stories? I'm not trying to be negative, BUT....I was a librarian and we classified books in different categories and those definitely had a category. They always say to write what you know and if romance is not something you know, then it has to be hard to write about it."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(OUCH! Thanks a LOT!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Maybe you should start calling your books under a different genre, it could make a world of difference. Maybe you should stick with the label of fiction rather than love stories. If it's just called a love story or romance, it's automatically tossed aside as airport trade; fluff reading or trash or nothing with quality. It would never be read closely enough to be called a classic. If a book is just labeled as romance it deserves a bad rap. Call them fiction and focus on the life stories but never call them romance or love stories."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow....just WOW.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She also implied the only women who read romance novels are unhappily married women like she was in her youth...then she closed off by saying that she felt like she "discouraged" me though it wasn't her intention and that she guessed it would all depend on the mood I was in when I read it, but that it really was meant in a positive way..... Pretty amazing when you add to it that this friend of mine believes in soul mates. Hmmmm....Sounds bitter to me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's taken me MONTHS to compute this in my brain, and my HEART, that someone I consider a good friend would say such a thing...Honestly...the fact that she has college degrees and was a librarian doesn't weigh that heavily on my opinion. She's like so many others who see romance novels as trashy, bodice rippers. She devalued every romance author I know and love as though what they write is dirt and though I'm not published, that lumps me in there too and it really makes me mad because I KNOW for a fact there are a LOT of talented, wonderful writers in my genre and her "professional" opinion leaves me begging the question—&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is the misguided advice of loved ones always worth it? No- its like bad writing advice...sometimes its well-meaning, but its not always valuable in a productive, positive way. We just need to remember to weed out the bad parts so it doesn't choke and stifle our inspiration and creativity. Bless their tactless, thoughtless hearts...they don't always know what they're talking about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It also begs the question of how much longer the romance genre will be treated like the black sheep of the writing industry family. What did we do to deserve that honor? And why does it seem more like a punishment?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a great start to the week Peeps!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Write On!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1731956082214312460?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1731956082214312460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1731956082214312460' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1731956082214312460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1731956082214312460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/08/misguided-advice-of-loved-ones.html' title='The Misguided Advice Of Loved Ones...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TGl0w-2CK5I/AAAAAAAAAxQ/sOZEfylmIOU/s72-c/stockvault_16447_20090417.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-6233461722335868229</id><published>2010-08-03T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T11:47:39.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Has It Been THAT Long?</title><content type='html'>Wow, nearly a month has gone by since my last blog. Sadly, the reason that's the case is because I haven't had much to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been hectic since the 4th of July, though I didn't mention it in the previous post. We had car trouble coming back from my parents' on the 4th and have been dealing with the bank, the insurance company, the mechanic, etc ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems our Corolla's engine had taken all it could take and the o-rings gave out- as my husband called it. Of course, the car had almost 170,000 miles on it and it had done good to make it as long as it did. The quickest solution was to buy another car after refinancing our loan through the bank, but we ran into many a hiccup, not because our credit was bad or anything. No, that was great, but the bank just wanted to willy-nilly the process because we "didn't ask for enough" on our refinance- so, not to get into the long technicals, but we did eventually get a loan of sorts that actually paid off our home equity loan, allowed us to buy another vehicle and get our Corolla fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the *new* vehicle- it's a 2002 Kia Spectra, white, with only 54,000 miles on it. The only hitch in the plan to buy it was that it had had a front end wreck and the guy had to fix it, so that took a bit of time and in the meanwhile we borrowed hubby's dad's truck for a couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, on top of that, the guy had a couple of Toyota engines, one already out of the car body, with only about 67,000 miles on it that he said he could drop in our Corolla, so now that we have the Kia, we're just waiting on the Corolla to be done as well and we'll have two vehicles~ fingers crossed that once I FINALLY get back to practicing driving and get my license, the Kia will be mine. In fact, I've already named him- yes- HIM, since I'm female and well, if men can name their cars after women, I'm naming mine after a male- a favorite "hero" of a favorite book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my reasoning- it's called a "spectra" which puts me in the mind of a spectre, so I decided that the name Jasper suits it- from a ghost character in one of my favorite YA novels called Strut by Bruce and Carole Hart. He was a rockstar from the 60's who died too young and believes his "unfinished business" is to help redheaded 17 y/o Holly Hannah become a rockstar in a battle of the bands competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE that story for so many reasons, on so many levels, even at 35 and so- I'm dragging the ghost of Jasper Rollins from the book and breathing him to life- in a way, as my Kia Spectra. Call me crazy- I don't care. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix into all this a trip to &lt;a href="http://www.beechbend.com/index.html"&gt;Beech Bend Amusement Park&lt;/a&gt;, back to school shopping for ALL those supplies &amp;amp; new clothes to replace what the kids have outgrown, washing all the new clothes and typical preparation- meeting the teacher at Open House, filling out forms, etc and I'd have to say I was honestly GLAD to see July go. It was too busy with not a chance to sit and take a breather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also too much of a distraction to be able to work on my revisions. My determination and concentration melted in the heat or was stifled by an absolute lack of time alone to work quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes...I can honestly say that until Sunday evening for maybe 45 minutes to an hour while hubby and the kids were gone to the grandparents' so Little Man could get his hair cut before school started, I hadn't had a moment of quiet, much cherished and sought after alone time just for me ALL summer. I was so thrilled that I threw myself in the tub for a long overdue extended hot shower that I could actually enjoy because I didn't have someone pecking at the door saying "I need to use the potty," or "What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost like getting spa treatment! Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my official first day to myself though, as I'm sure you can tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They gotta go back, back, back to school again...whoa whoa, they gotta go- back to school.....again! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my day has been nice- quiet... I put them on the bus, did 2 miles on the Gazelle, which I also haven't done in MONTHS, showered, started laundry, and have just been taking me time to breath time..... Going to eat lunch and then fall into one of my manuscript files and start getting my head back in the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful Tuesday, but most definitely take it easy with these scorching temperatures we're supposed to have the next few days! Drink plenty of fluids and don't be out in it if you don't have to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-6233461722335868229?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/6233461722335868229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=6233461722335868229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6233461722335868229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/6233461722335868229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/08/has-it-been-that-long.html' title='Has It Been THAT Long?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1470268939341160249</id><published>2010-07-13T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T10:56:31.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaping Back Through Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDyLuWw_8_I/AAAAAAAAAxI/vCZ-Qe8S7d0/s1600/wave-frothing-beach_w725_h544.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493419273986503666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDyLuWw_8_I/AAAAAAAAAxI/vCZ-Qe8S7d0/s320/wave-frothing-beach_w725_h544.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's what I've decided to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, I haven't built a time machine or a quantum leap accelerator- but I have decided I need to put my priorities in order and well, I know I'm in the middle of writing one story that I've left unfinished in my lackadaisical haze- set in modern times, but I'm contemplating submitting my historical romance with paranormal elements, so I need to get it in the best shape I possibly can.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's why I have given myself over to another time and place in recent days- rereading my manuscript and making necessary adjustments in late 1790's Virginia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm wandering the sandy coastline, knowing the mist hides an apparition brought on by guilt, or perhaps a soul at unrest... I can't be sure. Chilled breezes sweep in, sand and surf enveloping me in this other world- a world that rose up within me and came to life the moment I set it in words with each &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;clickity&lt;/span&gt;-clack of the keyboard. I've been away for a while, having forgotten myself as a writer, forgetting how this story haunted me until it was finished.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one stuck to me like glue for months, even before I started writing it, all the while I researched the time period, it hovered around me during the day and then followed me to bed at night- not just the story, but the characters, the setting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it needed me... Needed me to tell it, to write it, to release it, just as all the stories I write do. For me it's such a personal process and though I joke that it's like having multiple personalities, sometimes it really IS like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few years ago they wouldn't shut up, but for a while now the characters- the voices in my head- have hushed- absolutely clammed up. They've lain dormant for well over a year- since the infamous Misplacement of my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mojo&lt;/span&gt; and the Hibernation of my Butterfly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm starting to think they knew I needed a mental break from them. You can only hear so many voices telling you this, that and the other before it makes you a little batty. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mwhahaha&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, perhaps that's what I needed all along.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And perhaps now is the time for me to travel backward for a bit- into a time I can't possibly know, but that seems to know me, call to me, embrace me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps the things I feel have gone missing will wash up on the shores of the past and I can pull them back into my present once I'm done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to wander the misty haunted shores....&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493419271526236674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDyLuNmbQgI/AAAAAAAAAxA/xcujgWZK2CQ/s320/stockvault_23808_20100215.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1470268939341160249?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1470268939341160249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1470268939341160249' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1470268939341160249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1470268939341160249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/07/leaping-back-through-time.html' title='Leaping Back Through Time'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDyLuWw_8_I/AAAAAAAAAxI/vCZ-Qe8S7d0/s72-c/wave-frothing-beach_w725_h544.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-630439234647297017</id><published>2010-07-08T14:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T14:17:19.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where DOES the Mojo Go?</title><content type='html'>When it doesn't feel like you have "it" anymore, where does it go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it disappear? Do we "lose" it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or does it simply vacation on us from time to time, hiding when Life overshadows it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mojo is different for everyone, but we all have something that drives us—something that, just like anything worth having, is worth searching for. Especially during those times when we feel the most lost- it's then we should seek it and draw from it or we might never understand our full potential or what we're truly capable of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the past year or so, I've not followed that advice—at all—I honestly hadn't been thinking about it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many times, Life sets our Mojo on the back burner or up on a shelf- one of those items that when we get so caught up in our lives, we sometimes forget where we placed it, even though it's essential to who we are to a great extent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, my Mojo has been on vacation for a long time (too long) and I'm trying hard to find it again. This year I declared it felt like my year for change and so far, I've done nothing to prove to myself that it is. I swing back and forth between courage and fear—swing like a pendulum do—&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it's not just my Mojo who's gone missing. My inner butterfly has wrapped herself up in her wings and forgotten how to fly. Strong, brave and beautiful enough to soar toward her dreams, she is also fragile enough to fall and doubt herself more times than I care to count.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But there's a light at the end of this tunnel. I look for signs in all things around me and last week, during a yard sale we had while I was up visiting my family, there it was~ a sign—&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491604817055719298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDYZfD9uH4I/AAAAAAAAAww/CBIJEdA0KTY/s320/100_6555.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491604826767023074" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDYZfoJE2-I/AAAAAAAAAw4/zedPHoG5D4Y/s320/100_6556.jpg" /&gt;Never in my life have I been able to photograph a butterfly SO close up, but this one seemed drawn to me and kept lighting on the quince bush near where I was sitting on the swing with my sister. I don't know what kind it is- the outer wings that you can see were a brown/gray with orange spots, but I was unable to get it to sit still long enough to capture the backside when it's wings were spread wide- the upper wings were still dark brown/gray, but the lower set had metallic blue. I've researched online this morning and the closest I've come to identifying it is as a pipevine swallowtail, though this one doesn't have the extra "tips" on its tails and it has a lot more orange spots than most I've found images of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Either which way, it's a butterfly with metallic blue on it's wings  (which is personally significant to me) and well, it kept coming back around and when I got too close it would fly toward me and then flutter away, as though it were playing a game of chase with me when I tried to take more pictures of it. Needless to say, it meant something. I'm not sure WHAT yet, but I'm looking forward to finding out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's to finding my Mojo and to drawing my butterfly out of her hiding place, too. Happy Thursday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-630439234647297017?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/630439234647297017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=630439234647297017' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/630439234647297017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/630439234647297017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-does-mojo-go.html' title='Where DOES the Mojo Go?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/TDYZfD9uH4I/AAAAAAAAAww/CBIJEdA0KTY/s72-c/100_6555.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1416787181388521094</id><published>2010-06-06T15:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T15:27:45.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever After</title><content type='html'>We took the kids to see Shrek Forever After yesterday and even though I haven't been feeling very sentimental in recent days...hadn't been feeling much of anything if I'm honest with myself, I found myself tearing up as soon as the movie started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had a deep and abiding love of the Shrek plot since the first movie when I realized halfway through it she was meant to be an ogre princess, not a human one. The idea hadn't been done before, that I was aware of, and it endeared Shrek and Fiona in my heart forevermore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's probably the reason I'm such a sentimental old fool that I can't sit through a single Shrek movie without blubbering like an idiot, crying my eyes out. And it isn't just their story- but the secondary characters who can bring me to tears as well- I love Donkey and Puss in Boots. His big eyes makes my heart ache he's just so adorable! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't give things away for anyone who hasn't seen the new Shrek Forever After, but I will say that I loved it, but that's just me and I was feeling extremely sentimental when we went to see it. It's an obvious twist on It's a Wonderful Life- albeit an ogre's life. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time the credits rolled I was red-eyed and puffy and felt like a buffoon. There are so many times I find myself wondering why I believe in fairy tales anymore, why I write romance, why I believe true love wins out in the end and that there's someone out there meant for each of us. I still grapple with doubts and concerns about finding and losing love- especially losing "the one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe there is someone out there who is bound to me in a way no one else is- regardless of time, distance or the circumstances that separate us. Sometimes it feels like it gets us no where to believe in the sentimental fluff of fairy tales because it's just romanticized fiction~ it burns away when the light of reality shines on it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I still believe, even if it's only the tiniest grain of hope buried deep in my heart. I do believe I'm connected to someone else in this world in a way that's almost magical. It's a cosmic bond, surreal and unfathomable, but as real as anything else that can be seen with the naked eye or touched with the hand. It's geniune, unending love in its purest form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That gets me to thinking of this book I have read repeatedly and an idea about love that truly speaks to me. It's a YA novel by Bruce and Carole Hart called "Strut" that I have loved since I was so much younger than I am now (partly because of the main character- Holly Hanna is 17, redheaded and she wanted to be a rockstar.) All the women in her family have had paranormal experiences and well, her dream is helped along by the sudden appearance of the ghost of a rockstar named Jasper Rollins, who died in the 60's. He and Holly determine he has "unfinished" business on this earth and he's certain his unfinished business is to help Holly become a rockstar because his career was cut short by his untimely death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that got me was what her aunt tells her about the women in their family and ghosts with unfinished business and the belief that every soul has a destiny- to love and be loved, to know the sorrow of a love that isn't meant to be and the joy of a love that's returned in kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That "theory" has stuck with me for years and it helps to think of it when the idea of real, honest happiness and love seems to slip through the fabric of my understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Shrek and Fiona- for reminding me yesterday of the thing I so often forget....when it all boils down to it, it's always about love- love of the forever after kind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1416787181388521094?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1416787181388521094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1416787181388521094' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1416787181388521094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1416787181388521094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/06/forever-after.html' title='Forever After'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1650152992353145532</id><published>2010-06-03T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T09:41:35.892-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Round-Up for the Weeds of Doubt</title><content type='html'>Indeed it seems my posts are getting fewer and farther between these days. I can't concentrate and I don't really have anything to say in regard to my writing or the craft of writing. I guess that's why I don't post much- don't want to bore anyone to tears with my whining and complaints like some little old lady complaining about all my aches and pains. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past few weeks I've lost it...my mojo...my drive...my desire to work on writing, edits, critiques and its spilling over into driving and other areas of my life, etc. I'm not feeling like my normally chipper self...but instead feel lackadaisical and lost- it's nearly the end of the school year for my kids so distractions abound and hubby's new job schedule has altered our routines here at home, too. Just seems there have been a lot of changes so far this year and the only purpose it serves is to throw me completely off-kilter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where's the motivation? Where's my muse and my inspiration to accomplish whatever I put my mind to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess some of it goes back to a realization I need to do an overhaul on one of my novels and I also turned my attention to another one for a different purpose. Add to that, I honestly can't remember the last time I went driving. Grown woman that I am, I will sadly admit that it's been so long (at least 2-3 weeks) I'm a bit nervous about getting behind the wheel again. Same old fears have started niggling in the back of my mind and have me choking at the idea of getting in the driver's seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also find I'm mentally cutting "me" down a lot recently.. It's not intentional, but I find myself wondering why I bother, why I do what I do. Probably why I have a lack of motivation...I doubt myself and those seeds~ once planted~ have sprouted into nasty weeds that are twisted and mangled around all hope and belief in myself, strangling out all that's good and right around me and attempting a hostile takeover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's a downward spiral and I need to shake it off rather than wallow in it, so its time to pull out the weedeater and nip it in the bud...That, or find some Round-Up to kill the weeds of doubt at their roots because I'm tired of feeling this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1650152992353145532?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1650152992353145532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1650152992353145532' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1650152992353145532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1650152992353145532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/06/round-up-for-weeds-of-doubt.html' title='Round-Up for the Weeds of Doubt'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-3791646390382206453</id><published>2010-05-15T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T11:12:21.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When It Rains...</title><content type='html'>It&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S-7Ab7mzULI/AAAAAAAAAwo/X0twa6hkru0/s1600/100_5928.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471522183391170738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S-7Ab7mzULI/AAAAAAAAAwo/X0twa6hkru0/s320/100_5928.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; pours...&lt;br /&gt;It really does.. this was a puddle that accumulated on our front sidewalk within minutes of me putting the kids on the bus yesterday morning. My front yard was waterlogged and there was a small river running down the slope on the other side of our driveway where the drainage pipe runs under the road from the neighbor's yard across the road so the road doesn't turn into a lake right there.(Not that it helps because if it rains enough, the water stands there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pouring down rain, while I was taking photos and I had no sooner stepped inside than it quit, just as quickly as it came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week wasn't very eventful or spectacular. I spent the first part of the week working on critiques for a couple of other ladies and on my own work. Midweek I succumbed to one of my dreaded migraine headaches. The following day I took a break from critiquing to rest my eyes because I was still suffering a migraine hangover and the threat of a new one. That was also the only day I could have gone driving, but I just felt too foggy/groggy-headed to be behind the wheel of a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm just taking it easy. Hubby's at work and might possibly have to work a 12 hour shift, so it's just me and Girly Girl, watching Phineas and Ferb and hanging out. Grass is too wet to mow right now and in all honestly, I've slacked off my exercise the past week or two. I guess since the week my uncle passed and I need to get back at it, so I'm hoping my husband skips mowing on Sunday so I can mow on Monday and get some exercise by doing the work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He uses the riding mower for the majority of our large yard and I know a lot of people think I'm insane to use the gas push mower when I do it, but I need to the leg work, the exertion and it gives me time to think behind the roar of the mower with my music cranked. I jam out, but it also gives me time to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping Monday gets me back to the exercise because I also intend to get back on the Gazelle starting next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly lunch time and I'm off and gone- grab a little something to eat and then I'm going to work on revisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-3791646390382206453?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/3791646390382206453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=3791646390382206453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3791646390382206453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/3791646390382206453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-it-rains.html' title='When It Rains...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S-7Ab7mzULI/AAAAAAAAAwo/X0twa6hkru0/s72-c/100_5928.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-1510274962644682131</id><published>2010-05-08T10:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T10:22:26.104-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow! Has It Been That Long?</title><content type='html'>It's been what, about 3 weeks since I last posted a blog on here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life had been hectic and filled with personal issues, computer problems, a death, my husband's sleep study for sleep apnea and my determination to get back to writing in a more serious way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still dealing with finding focus in my life and that covers everything in the grand scope of things—inner struggles I have to quietly work on for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been out practicing my driving though and our computer issues were all because of two drivers that had gone bad and the fact that we were getting blue screen errors because of updates for a program on the computer that we only had the trial of. Removed that program and the blue screen stopped popping up and everything else seems good, though I don't want to speak too soon. (Mercury is still retro till the 11th and even though it won't be direct until around the 27th, I believe.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle lost his battle with cancer and passed the last of April. We made the trip up for the memorial and though we had known he was terminal for a while, it still hits me every once in a while that I need to not take anything for granted in my life. My uncle wasn't even 60 years old yet and it reminds me that life really is short and you just never know when your time will come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband's sleep study this past Tuesday hasn't been fully diagnosed but the lady told him he does have bad apnea. They had to put a C-PAP on him only an hour after he'd gone to sleep. In fact, he was surprised because he didn't know he'd even fallen asleep, but she said he was snoring really bad and then he stopped breathing. He breathed better through the rest of the night and didn't' stop breathing anymore, but she told him they could tell he never dreamed in the night. She said that's not good because it's when you hit the deep REMs and dream that your body finally shuts down and can heal from illness as well as just the simple day to day wear and tear on our bodies from work, life, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will still have to go back to the doctor so they can set him up with a machine I guess. Not exactly sure what treatment they'll give him just yet. Still kind of scary though to think how close to death he is every time he goes to sleep and stops breathing. The doctor told him during the consultation that he believed it was severe apnea and that without treatment he would die. Here's hoping he listens to a doctor for once and does what he's told, the stubborn thing. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, I've finally been able to start working with my critique group and finding that these ladies all have brilliant minds and wonderful stories to tell. I find I'm in exceptional company and am so looking forward to working with them more and more because they inspire me. When I'm not working on theirs or mine, I'm trying to beautify my yard with new annuals in the flower boxes out front and perennials in the yard. Perhaps the next time I post I will include some floral visuals as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to work now, even on the weekend! Write on and have a wonderful weekend...and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful women out there! May your Mother's Day be filled with time to slow down, enjoy your families and just breathe....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-1510274962644682131?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/1510274962644682131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=1510274962644682131' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1510274962644682131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/1510274962644682131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/05/wow-has-it-been-that-long.html' title='Wow! Has It Been That Long?'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8649587309188938746</id><published>2010-04-18T10:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T08:02:00.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The View is Different from the Driver's Seat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S8sHophru_I/AAAAAAAAAwg/PcS_pRX0gws/s1600/100_3260.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 228px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S8sHophru_I/AAAAAAAAAwg/PcS_pRX0gws/s400/100_3260.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461467368040152050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm embarking on a new journey in my life and I find that the view is different from the driver's seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And nerve-wracking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got my nerve up after about a month of having my permit and doing nothing with it and got behind the wheel yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I drove around, hubby in tow, for about an hour and a half. Drove all over the outskirts of our small town to get me comfortable and I even left the county and drove down to Barren River Lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say I wasn't scared—I was. And I'm scared of the next time I go out driving. Most would probably think I'm too old to be scared like this, but as I said in my blog post &lt;a href="http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/03/on-road-again.html"&gt;On The Road Again&lt;/a&gt; this year is a year of living bravely and I hate to admit that since I got my permit and then got sick the middle of last month, I haven't been very brave at all since then. I'm sure that the fear wears off after a bit of practice, but....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we went through a month where each of us in the house were sick, my defenses are down and for me, being sick did nothing more than leave me feeling weak and tired and unmotivated in nearly  EVERYTHING. My mini-vacation for Spring Break just left me wishing I had more time to simply relax and visit in my hometown, but responsibilities called me back. Kids have school to finish up and I have a household to take care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice time while I was up visiting my family and friends. I always do because it's where I'm the most "ME"- where I feel the most freedom and happiness- It's the place where I can breathe and feel brave and grounded again, which is something I haven't in a long while. Leaving from there always hurts just a little too much because my roots are there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find my bravery again and that also hearkens back to my lack of focus recently. Driving yesterday gave me about an hour and a half of time to direct my concentration- to do something that forced me to live bravely and focus—on the road ahead. I'm not sure if I mean that literally or figuratively, but I suspect it's a little of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a week away and I've had a week to try to get back into the routine, so I think starting today, this coming week— it's time to start focusing on the road ahead of me...not just when I go out to practice driving, but in everything. It's time to "force" myself to live bravely again and find focus in all things in my life. As my mom told me a while back, I need to make a plan and work that plan. If I want to make changes or see changes in my life to make me happy and get me where I want to go, I have to actually do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll find that the view from the driver's seat becomes less scary—awkward—foreign  and more like second nature—something common place and normal for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8649587309188938746?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8649587309188938746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8649587309188938746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8649587309188938746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8649587309188938746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/04/view-is-different-from-drivers-seat.html' title='The View is Different from the Driver&apos;s Seat'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S8sHophru_I/AAAAAAAAAwg/PcS_pRX0gws/s72-c/100_3260.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-890411310989064501</id><published>2010-04-16T08:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T08:34:10.324-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing Life Out of Focus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S8b4LKANuGI/AAAAAAAAAwY/DbFi8mQ-eT0/s1600/100_5413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S8b4LKANuGI/AAAAAAAAAwY/DbFi8mQ-eT0/s320/100_5413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460324468780808290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Springtime, warmer days, pretty flowers, Life- are all knocking me out of focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to concentrate or get my head back into what I should be doing now that Spring Break has come and gone. The break away didn't do anything to help redirect my train of thought or help settle the rumblings of change in my soul as far as writing/critiquing goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I'm thinking about how I need to declutter the house, keep an eye on my spring flowers in the yard that are starting to come up, anticipating the imminent arrival of the hummingbirds and looking back over March, which was such a sick month for everyone in our household and it doesn't seem to be getting any better where health issues are concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm okay- typical stuff- allergies/sinuses. Hubby though is still fighting off illness. First of the year he got debris in his eye at his previous job and had to deal with the infection that arose from it. Last month he had a bacterial infection in his lungs but they also decided to check everything else—diabetes and thyroid tests came back fine, but they were concerned about his constant fatigue lowering his immune system, his excessively high resting heart rate and well, he's had pneumonia a few times in the past 5 years, so the doctors are always concerned about the scarring on his lungs and the fact that he's had it too often for his lungs to heal properly. Of course, the exhaustion led them to ask questions about his sleep habits and whether he snores, wakes up a lot and how big his neck is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After measurements, chest x-rays and a consultation with a sleep doctor, he was told his esophagus is too small and his tongue is too big and the reason he wakes up off and on all night, it's because his brain is waking him up because he's suffocating on his tongue. His heart rate is high because it's working overtime for him and we found an answer to why Ambien never worked for him years ago-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he had pneumonia in 2006, the doctors gave him that to help him sleep and instead it was the absolute reverse, it kept him wide awake. The sleep doctor told him it was because that pill, and most like it, is a muscle relaxer and your tongue is a muscle, so when he took the pills, his brain refused to let him sleep because of the possible consequences. He will have to go to a sleep study sometime soon, but the doctor seems certain he has sleep apnea and when he asked what would happen if he chose to go without treatment, the doctor told him he will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, just when we thought things were settling down, he got a staph infection in his nose and we've been dealing with it this week. It wasn't getting better after the first round of antibiotic treatments over 3 days time—if his nose was still swollen, red and irritated they told him to come back to the doctor so he went yesterday. They were concerned because it had spread onto his face and up into his sinuses and they were worried about it moving into his brain and killing him, so they sent him to an ear/nose/throat doctor who changed the antibiotics and ointments up to something stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning he said he's been able to drain the infection out some and his nose isn't nearly as red and swollen as it was, so we're hoping this helps and gets him on the road to recovery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As with most things, you can't plan ahead too far- we live Life unwritten and out of focus most of the time as it is, so perhaps my writing is out of focus at the moment, but I've had to turn my attention elsewhere because that IS Life and we sometimes have to write Life out of focus anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Friday and wonderful weekend everyone- Write On- whether in OR out of focus!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-890411310989064501?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/890411310989064501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=890411310989064501' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/890411310989064501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/890411310989064501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/04/writing-life-out-of-focus.html' title='Writing Life Out of Focus'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S8b4LKANuGI/AAAAAAAAAwY/DbFi8mQ-eT0/s72-c/100_5413.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-8264978513519346154</id><published>2010-03-28T15:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T15:17:20.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Voices...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S65c6RuofdI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/xXdlCXXvv5w/s1600/Voices.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S65c6RuofdI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/xXdlCXXvv5w/s320/Voices.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453398355053411794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's happening again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm not paranoid or schizophrenic...It's just the voices of characters crawling out of the woodwork and milling around in my head...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kid you not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't the first time and probably won't be the last. The biggest difference is that I'm hearing male characters introducing themselves instead of my heroines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night I heard a couple of names, but now they are only mist- I can't capture them, but I got the distinct impression they are part of new stories my psyche is attempting to introduce me to. As if I don't already have a dozen or more ideas buzzing around my head that I've yet to write...now I have new fellas trying to get my attention...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flattering, don't ya think? LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even had a villain introduce himself to me yesterday. I know he's a hard ass and he isn't a great guy, but that's all he gave me at the moment. Just a name and a general idea of who he is, but not where he is, or what he does for a living...I did a "bing" search of the name and found no one with that name specifically, but I did find a man with that first name working for a construction company with the last name and wonder if perhaps construction should be his line of business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know bits and pieces about construction workers...my father is one and I could ask him questions about the business if this character "grows" into something massive...but then, I couldn't have him be the business mogul over a construction company by that name...so I guess I'll have to wait it out and see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of right now, he's just a dusty little particle floating in the ether around me, waiting for me to figure out where he belongs. And the same could be said for the mystery men who introduced themselves the other night as I was just about to doze off. Wish I could remember what their names were and what glimpses I got from them of ideas. It's still there in the back of my mind I'm sure, just a matter of finding the right net to catch those fleeting butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe the inspiration that has been hibernating within me is awakening again. My dreams in recent weeks have been far more vivid than usual and far more absurd. I dreamed of Ewan McGregor playing in a movie where he was a plain man in prison for a crime he didn't commit, but he was in there with infamous criminals and villains like Adolph Hitler and Al Capone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're thinking— This chick's CRAZY!— but I never said it made sense! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night the most significant thing I remember from my dream was that I was pregnant and telling someone that I couldn't lose my weight until after I had the baby in December. {scrunched eyebrows}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now- I'm not pregnant and I don't plan to be, but in dreams, pregnancy doesn't always mean it in the literal sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it means you are "pregnant" or heavy with new ideas that are about to be "born" or are growing within you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that actually makes sense to me with how vivid my dreams have been lately and all the voices that are emerging and wanting to talk to me. The month I'm not sure about, but I do feel like I've got a lot of "unknowns" swirling within me- roiling and bubbling there- things I haven't yet gotten a grasp on, but I will...perhaps by the end of the year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's a thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey voices! Keep talking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everyone has a great start to their week...March has nearly marched itself right on out of here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3593537129708633105-8264978513519346154?l=tarynraye.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/feeds/8264978513519346154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3593537129708633105&amp;postID=8264978513519346154' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8264978513519346154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3593537129708633105/posts/default/8264978513519346154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarynraye.blogspot.com/2010/03/voices.html' title='Voices...'/><author><name>Taryn Raye</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00111240475586597010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9_1Gx68fnUs/TmUHAmJLQaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YJ9akZyVAGI/s220/100_1286.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S65c6RuofdI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/xXdlCXXvv5w/s72-c/Voices.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3593537129708633105.post-7223341566034841032</id><published>2010-03-26T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T14:42:26.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking, Talking Contradiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S6z6FHxjz_I/AAAAAAAAAwA/Ida5qhyuNSk/s1600/100_5384.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w9yMEUgDYcs/S6z6FHxjz_I/AAAAAAAAAwA/Ida5qhyuNSk/s200/100_5384.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453008214732034034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I feel like an enigma to myself sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to be skeptical in regard to love and romance. I mean, really...if I didn't believe in it, I wouldn't write it, but there are times when I wonder how much of it is a great lost art and find myself scoffing at the cheesiness of movies and stories that I would normall
