I spent all day in my Sharlene Gallagher universe. It was awesome. Half way through the day I posted this on Facebook:
So far Sharlene has fought demons, put some mean girls in their place, snagged a kiss (hel-lo, I write romance) and aced Calculus all while saving the world. Pretty good day for a guardian angel.
So yeah. Great day.
Even better because I finished edits on the book. Wonderful!
AND THEN (SPOILER ALERT…there’s no happy ending to this post. It veers off on a crazy direction of gloom courtesy of the news. If you don’t want to go there, quit reading now and enjoy the gloriousness of my day with Sharlene!
Better yet go read the first or second book. Angel Eyes isn’t ready yet, but it will be soon!)
(Don’t say I didn’t warn you)
(Third time’s the charm. The rest of this post is a rant…)
WAH! I’m addicted to the news. How did I let it ruin my great day?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
I watched News Hour. And the whole time the source talked about a serious problem with education I thought I can’t believe a word you say because I no longer trust News Hour and I no longer believe the Dept. of Education wants public schools to survive. AND then I got in this funk of reading all sorts of education news that made me even more depressed.
And that just sucks. Because until then I was thinking about how EXCITED I am for Monday and how weird that is because Monday is the beginning of the end of the school year…testing, crazy hormonal students, deadlines. But even with all that I’m looking forward to seeing my kids again. They make me love my job. Most educators I know love their jobs. But now I’m all stressed and sad and grumpy and I think I better go work on the romantic suspense I’m revising because I get to blow stuff up in those books and that might actually make me feel better.
I teach journalism. I can’t quit the news. I think I might have to, though. Boo.
Posted in thoughts
Tagged An Angel Earns Her Wings, Dead Girl Walking, education, fiction, guardian angels, journalism, Mary Beth Lee, news, sad, Sharlene Gallagher, spring break, YA
When I first started writing romance I laughingly told my mom, “No, Momma, I’m not writing inspirational. I like writing love scenes.”
I wasn’t lying.
Confession time: I’m a romance novelist and I like writing love scenes. I especially love writing books where tension escalates from chapter to chapter until the hero and heroine are going crazy for each other and the simple touch of a hand triggers one of those oh-yeah scenes. You know the ones I’m talking about.
I love reading those books too.
I don’t like to read books where love scenes are thrown in with no emotional or plot purpose. I skip those love scenes. But a good love scene can put a book on my keeper shelf as quickly as a bad one can make it go in the give-away pile.
What a good love scene is not going to do is send me to hell.
I mean I never once read the words thou shall not write or read sexy scenes in books in my bible.
I’m always shocked when I hear people (some romance writers even!) say love scenes are a sin.
See my way of thinking goes more along the lines of this:
God gave us sex and pleasure in it. It’s a gift. A wonderful, beautiful, amazing gift. Thank you, God.
Is sex outside of marriage wrong? In my opinion, absolutely. And that’s where things get confusing.
A few years ago my pastor gave a sermon on all the thou shall nots. He said one of the things we often forget is why they’re there. Sex outside of marriage is dangerous both emotionally and physically. I’m pretty sure God, the all-knowing man upstairs, was fully aware of that. That’s the whole point. He gives us the thou shall nots to protect us, not to simply limit us. He totally understands human nature. He made us, so He should!
Is desire wrong? Uh—-NO!
I’ve known people who waited until marriage to make love.
Sparks practically flew when they were in a room together. They looked at each other and you saw it all over their faces.
I want you now.
They didn’t have to say a word to each other. And they were quite vocal about how we better not expect them to answer the phone for a few days even after the honeymoon. They had business to take care of.
These people were incredibly strong Christians. And guess what. They read romance novels (shock!). Romance novels where people, even unmarried people, make love.
And guess what else. The writer who wrote those stories wasn’t writing non-fiction. She was writing a fantasy. A dream.
I mean, okay, so when was the last time you nearly got ran over by a somewhat wealthy Brad Pitt look-a-like who just so happens to be the widowed father of one of your kindergarten students and before the end of two months the two of you had fallen madly, hopelessly in love and he’s given you multiple orgasms?
Exactly. Complete, total make believe. I won’t even go into my Blaze/Brava moments. Now those were REAL. Uh huh. Sure they were.
I don’t know where the idea that sex in books is bad and sinful came from. I know a romance novel without sexual tension isn’t very realistic.
I’m in the middle of writing an inspirational women’s fiction novel right now. The themes running through the book are redemption and forgiveness. It will definitely have its moments of sexual tension. It will definitely showcase the beautiful passion God gives us. I don’t know if it will have love scenes or not. But some of the most moving, powerful scenes I’ve ever read take place in the bedroom, in bed. How sad that people believe that’s wrong.