Posts Tagged ‘writing again’

I Forgot How Much I Loved This Idea…

So. Day 1 of the full RWA conference is mostly over. And it has been amazeballs. I’ve learned a lot, of course. But more importantly, I was reminded why I do this crazy book-writing stuff I do.

It’s fun … especially when I’m telling myself the stories I want to read.

As I mentioned before, I have two books completely plotted out right now. I am actively writing one of them.

But there was another idea. One I fell wildly in love with. I even wrote a few pages. But then decided it was too risky.

I just re-read the first two pages. And you guys? I still love it.

So what’s it about?

In a nutshell, God makes a bet with the Devil that he can prove humanity is still worth saving. But to win, Jesus has to convince an atheist that she is the final prophet. He isn’t supposed to fall in love. (but I write romance, so we all know where this is going).

I’m going to leave a little bit of it here, just for fun.

The Unlikely Prophet

“I need your help with something.”

Jesus groaned and turned to look at his father. Or at least he tried to. The man was glowing so brightly his eyes started to water.

“Hey Dad, can you turn down the light? You’re blinding me.”

“What? Oh, sorry. Hold on.” He snapped his fingers and the ethereal light vanished. “I was talking to Satan again. You know how he riles me up.”

Jesus motioned to the faded red recliner across from him. “Have a seat and tell me about it.”

His Dad nodded and floated over. After he’d made himself comfortable, he looked across at his son, his blue eyes still blazing with righteous anger. “No matter how often I tell myself not to let him get to me…”

Jesus nodded. “He always does. That’s kind of his job, Dad.”

The big man sighed and smoothed out an invisible crease in his long white robe. “I know. I know. But this time it went too far.”

An alarm bell pinged in Jesus’ head. “What did you do?”

His dad glanced at him and then looked quickly away. “I may have made another bet.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

Shit. “What kind of bet?”

“That I could prove humankind is still worth saving.”

“You’re kidding me.”

His dad shook his head. “No. No I’m not.”

“And what happens if you lose?”

“I’ve got to end it all and start over.”

Jesus threw his hands up in the air. “Dad! How could you? I thought we agreed that we were nowhere near ready to do that yet?”

“We’re not. I won’t. We can win. But I’m going to need your help.”

Now he knew he was in trouble. “The last time you said that, we ended up with the Mormons.”

His dad grinned. “This time, all we need is a gorgeous woman.”



It’s Time.

an outdoor clock at sunset

After I finished writing Dating the Enemy, I collapsed.

The depression I had barely held at bay for months descended. It was all I could do to get out of bed in the morning. Starting another book, even if I had been able to summon the energy to do so, seemed pointless (as everything does when you’re in that headspace).

So I let my romance writing career languish and instead focused on getting better.

It took a while. A long while. And just when I was starting to feel like myself again, I fell and hit my head, giving myself a severe concussion in the process.

I don’t recommend doing that. It hurts a lot, and becoming temporarily stupid is frankly terrifying.

Recovering from that took even longer than shaking off the depression had.

So here I am. It’s almost a year (10 months) since I finished my last book. And now? Now I’m ready to start again.

I’ve got a notebook (or three) stuffed with book ideas—and two entire novels plotted out.

Even more important, I’ve got the itch. Last night I actually dreamed I was writing—lost in that delightful state of mind that is total immersion in a story.

I woke up in a fabulous mood.

And that’s how I know that Amber, the romance writer, is alive and kicking. While other people are lighting fireworks in the backyard this weekend, I’ll be creating literary fireworks on my computer screen.

Wish me luck.


Photo credit: Ryan Johnson for North Charleston, flickr: