I know I’ve been scarce on my blog lately, but that’s because I’ve been working! Yes, it’s true. In desperation, I’ve taken to writing at the library in the morning. No wireless internet=No procrastination=Actually being productive! It’s amazing!

I have two more days of January left and I think I’ll be able to finish up my book by then. Of course, the ending is a bit sketchy, which means I’ll probably come out a teensy short on my word count, but once I layer in some more details throughout the scenes I’ve written over the last week, I should be okay.

I put together a query letter on Sunday, and read it to my husband who declared it “fabulous”…oh, wait, that doesn’t seem like something my husband would say. Well, I can’t remember his exact words…basically, he thought it kicked butt. (My word choice, not his). Let’s hope the agents on my “To Query” list feel the same way. 

As I sit here twiddling my thumbs due to yet another snow day where I can’t concentrate on my writing because my boys are home from school, I’ve been mulling over the state of my query letter for Her Own Best Enemy. I have a lot riding on a one-page letter. A great letter means the difference between getting my work in front of agents who may like it enough to represent it, or sitting here collecting dozens–hundreds–of rejection letters on query alone.

Romance Divas is doing another one of their fabulous We All Win Query Contests this month and I plan to toss my query into the ring for some feedback. But, before I send my entry in, I need to revamp my query because it’s not where it needs to be.

Discussions about what *good* queries look like have been slapping me in the face lately. Between agent Kristin Nelson’s awesome Pub Rants blog where she talks about the downfalls of generic queries and overused phrases, to agent Caren Johnson’s response to my query question over at Caridad’s blog where Caren is guest blogging this week, I’ve come to a sort of enlightenment.

I need to get to the heart of Her Own Best Enemy. Yes, there’s scads of heart-pounding action, emotion, a love story, and a happy ending…but what makes it special? Why should an agent (or editor or reader, for that matter) care?

Well, I think I’ve found it. That tiny little kernel of importance. Her Own Best Enemy is about trust. It’s about one woman who would rather fail than have to trust someone other than herself. But, here’s the thing…she’s a mother, too. And as a mother, she has this innate conviction that she’d do anything for her son. Anything. Even if it means putting her trust in another person–in the man she’s vowed to hate–because when she sets out to find her missing son, she doesn’t have the luxury of doing it herself and possibly failing. Her son’s life is on the line here. Thus, starts a journey for her where she constantly wars with the part of her who knows she shouldn’t trust someone other than herself and the part of her who is willing to do anything for her son–even if it means doing something as painful and heart-wrenching as learning the importance of trust.

Of course, I need to boil that down into more concise language. But I think there’s meaning and heart and a universal truth in Grace’s journey. I just hope that an agent will think the same.

To re-design my website! Okay, okay, I’ve got to be honest. I’ve actually already put together a new header that I simply adore and I’m excited to do the rest of the layout and get it on my website. I got the idea and couldn’t resist playing with it once I found the images I wanted to use.

But, wait! What about the ending to my book? Yes, I’m still working on it. And working. And working. My brother-in-law arrived on Thursday to help my husband hang drywall in the new house, so I had to take a break from writing to frantically clean and declutter our tiny rental in preparation for his stay. He’ll be here until Monday morning.

Never fear, I’m back on the deadline trail. I will finish this baby by the end of the month. Oh, yeah, I will. Because I’m not letting myself finish my new website layout until the book is done. And that’s enough to tortue me. Yep. I’m dangling that in front of my nose as the big reward for getting myself to the finish line.

So, when you see the new website layout the first week in February (hopefully!), you’ll know that I met my deadline! 

I’m having difficulties getting a certain scene of my story to cooperate with me. It’s driving me nuts. I’ve written around it some, but I keep getting drawn back to it. Have to fix it. Have to figure out why it’s not working.

But, since my brain is feeling a bit fried today, I’m going to post an excerpt from Keith’s hero’s journey. This scene isn’t in the book because it’s backstory, but it called to me one day while listening to Gary Allan’s song, Life Ain’t Always Beautiful. In Keith’s case, that’s definitely true:

“I thought I told you to get over here.”

Ten-year-old Keith slowly straightened from his perusal of the banged up refrigerator. He tightened his lips then winced at the pain that shot through them.

Damn.

His mother’s fingers dug into his shoulder and yanked him around. Her bloodshot eyes narrowed on his puffy upper lip. “You’ve been fighting at school, again?” The snarl in her voice made his chest ache, but he refused to face her like a sniveling coward.

He lifted his chin. “Yeah.”

Her fingernails dug into his neck. “Dumb kid.” She released his shoulder and backhanded him across the mouth.

Pain exploded across his upper lip as he stumbled backward. He skidded to a stop on his butt, the cracked linoleum digging awkwardly at the base of his spine.    

“Didn’t I tell you no more fights?” She advanced on him, her tattered slippers slapping the cheap tile. “You fight, they call me. The last thing I need is social services poking their nose where it doesn’t belong.”

He wiped the trickle of blood from his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, Mama. But, Jimmy–”

“Oh, go on with you. I don’t need to hear more of your blathering. You’re giving me a headache.”

He swallowed around the lump that had risen in his throat. “Yes, Mama.” He picked himself off the floor.

“Get me a beer before you leave,” she mumbled, already retreating to her bedroom.

He fisted his hands at his side. “Don’t you want to know what the fight was about?”

“Just get me the damn beer.”

He opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents. Beer. Milk. He grabbed the plastic container and twisted off the cap. He sniffed. Sour. He dumped it in the sink then returned to the refrigerator and grabbed two beers.

He crept down the hall to his mother’s bedroom, where he set the can on her nightstand. Then, he made his way to the backyard, climbed up a rickety ladder and into his fort.

He drew his knees up to his chest, struggling with the tab on the beer can. It popped with a smooth hiss. He took a tentative sip, careful of the reopened cut. It tasted bitter and vile, but he forced himself to swallow it anyway.

He bowed his head, his shaggy wheat colored hair falling in front of his eyes.

No more fights at school.

He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to shed any sissy tears.

No more friggin’ fights at school.

Didn’t she even care that Jimmy Johnson had called her a whore? The split lip was compliments of Keith’s attempt to defend her honor. He snorted, took another swig of beer. It didn’t taste so bad the second time around. Or the third. And, better yet, he almost didn’t care that Jimmy Johnson had spoken the truth.

Deb tagged me the other day, and since I’m having a seriously sucky writing day (why won’t this scene cooperate???), I’m going to go ahead and do it now. Who knows, maybe it will open the word floodgate, and I’ll still be able to get to my pages today.

1) What’s your favorite song? This is one of those ‘can’t pick just one’ questions. Right now I’m loving Keith Urban’s Love, Pain and the Whole Crazy Thing album. I’m also loving Chris Rice’s When Did You Fall In Love With Me and Lemonade, as well as anything from Little Big Town.

2) Name the top 3 favorite vacations you’ve had: Disneyland with Daredevil and Scienceboy (summer of 2005), Cancun for my honeymoon (favorite because the hubby and I have a lot of hilarious memories), and Stone Mountain in Georgia — a looonng time ago family vacation, where my Dad and I walked to the top of Stone Mountain and left my sister and mom in the dust (they never even managed to get to the top–instead, Dad and I thumbed our noses at them from the peak. *g*)

3) Name the top 3 vacations you’d like to have: Scotland, Hawaii, and Spain

4) Who’s your favorite romance author? Judith McNaught, hands down, up and sideways. She is my inspiration.

5) Name your top 5 favorite all-time books: Anne of Green Gables series, Little Women, Judith McNaught’s Perfect, Catherine Anderson’s Blue Skies, and Dean Koontz’s Lightning….Those are the first five that came to me.

6) If you were/are married, how’d you meet your husband? We were snail mail pen-friends from 1992 until 1995, when we finally met. I thought he was a weirdo, but he was a hot, sexy, weirdo, so I gave him a shot.

7) What’s your favorite food and/or beverage to have when writing or working? Coca-Cola, Chocolate Chip Cookies, or M&Ms.