Tag Archive for: Skating Over The Line

Skating through the fear

/in /by
by: Joelle Charbonneau

Tension.

Hope.

Excitement.

Abject fear.

Over the moon delight.

Yep – stir those up in a bowl, add some sugar and bake at 350 degrees. When the timer dings you’ll get exactly what I’m feeling at this very moment. Today is release day for SKATING OVER THE LINE, the second of the Rebecca Robbins mystery novels from St. Martin’s Minotaur. Which means I should be doing….nothing.

Well, not nothing. I mean, I’ll be around on facebook and twitter and doing some book signings. (If you live in northern Illinois, you can come watch me skate counterclockwise at the book’s release party tomorrow night!) But after all the nail biting and waiting there is nothing I can really do but wait, and hope and wonder if anyone is reading the book. More important, I will be wondering if anyone liked the book. Will Pop make them laugh? Will Rebecca’s antics keep them turning pages?

I hope so.

So much of a writer’s life is spent in a state of hope. I hope an agent will like the book. I hope an editor will want to buy it. I hope readers will enjoy the story. There is fear, too. Fear of being rejected. Fear of a bad review. Fear of no one picking up the book you spent so much time and care on.

So I sit here today with equally combinations of fear and hope buzzing through my veins and I will pretend there is no fear. I will focus on the hope that someone will see the cover and pick the book up off the shelf. That they will read the jacket story teaser, smile and walk up to the counter. And that when they are done reading, they will still be smiling.

And in case you are curious, here is the jacket blurb about SKATING OVER THE LINE.  I hope you like it.

Rebecca is desperate to sell her inherited roller skating rink in small-town Indian Falls, and–finally–she has a buyer. She can’t wait to head back to Chicago, especially now that her long delinquent father has blown back into town. But Lionel, her large-animal vet boyfriend, thinks she should stay put. And the gang at the Senior Center wants her to track down the thief who’s been hot-wiring rusted-out classic cars. Unable to resist, Rebecca soon has the Sheriff’s Deputy threatening to arrest her for obstruction and strange, scary men threatening her life. Then cars start exploding, with people in them, and Rebecca’s father goes missing. With the help of her Elvis-impersonating grandfather, Rebecca must find the pyromaniac car thief and put a stop to him–before he stops her first.

The men in my life

/in /by

by: Joelle Charbonneau

My father’s birthday was this past Monday. He passed away almost three years ago after a long battle with cancer. It sucks that he’s gone and I can’t begin to tell you how much I miss him.

I guess it isn’t surprising that my father’s birthday made me stop and think about the men that have influenced my life. My husband. My son. My father. My grandfather. All of them love(d) to laugh. My father and grandfather were very different types, but they both loved humor. So maybe they would be flattered that I have chosen to create very distinctive grandfather and father characters for Rebecca Robbins. Dad didn’t appear in the first book. In fact, unlike my father who was very much present in my life, Rebecca hasn’t seen her father in years. As for her grandfather, Pop – well, Pop loves life and laughing just as much as my grandfather did. Dare I say more? Here – let me show you what I mean:

Sprawled on the ground, Pop blinked up at me. “What happened?”

I helped him get into a sitting position while taking deep breaths to calm my panic. “You fainted.”

“Fainted?” Pop snorted. “I’ve never fainted in my life.”

The cantankerous sound of my grandfather’s voice did my heart good. Pop was okay. Knowing that, I was able to smile.

“Then what are you doing lying on the asphalt?” I asked, trying to hide my amusement.

Pop sputtered for a moment then announced, “It’s because of these damn pants.”

Pop struggled to get to his feet, and I helped haul him upright. Indignant, he said, “The women at the Center told me I had to wear tight pants in my Elvis act. Well, now I know why Elvis died so young. He probably hit is head after losing circulation in his . . . you know.”

I did know, and I would have been a lot happier if I didn’t. Thinking about my grandfather’s . . . well, it made me a whole lot more uncomfortable than the sweltering heat.

“Pop,” I said, deliberately averting my eyes as he adjusted the crotch of his pants. “While I would love nothing more than to blame your pants, they aren’t the reason you passed out.”

Pop blinked at me. “They’re not? Huh? You think it was the heat.”

“I think it was saying my father is coming to town.” Pop’s face went white. I took a step closer in case he went down again. “Look, Pop, it’s no wonder you’re upset. You and Stan don’t have the best relationship.”

Neither did I. Maybe it was genetic.

Pop shook his gnarled fist. “I want to kill the hairy little wart. The man deserves it for breaking you and your mother’s hearts. Heck, his coming to town is a good thing. Gives me a chance to get some of my friends together and rough him up.”

Something told me the septuagenarian Untouchables wasn’t going to scare Stanley Robbins, but what did I know. My father might have a fear of disgruntled old guys.

Smiling at the bizarre image of Pop in a zoot suit, I said, “You’re not going to rough up Stan.”

“Why? You want to do it?”

Tempting. Too bad I had to take the moral high ground.

“No,” I said with regret. My absentee father kind of deserved roughing up. “No one is going to touch him. In fact,” I added, hoping for once my father’s faithless personality hadn’t changed, “I doubt we even see him. When was the last time Stan actually did what he said he was going to do?”

Pop squinted into the sunlight, thinking about my words. “You’re right,” he said with a frown. “That man ain’t never going to set foot in this town. Too bad. I was starting to like the idea of giving him a good butt-whooping. A couple of kicks to the keister would knock some much needed sense into him.”

He straightened his shoulders and took a shuffling step down the sidewalk, content to leave the topic of my wayward father behind. Come to think of it, I was too. It was easier than dealing with the disappointment that always came along with Stan Robbins.

Looking back, Pop asked, “Are you coming?”

“Where?”

“To see Jimmy. I’d think you’d want to talk to him.” Pop smiled. “Seeing as how you’re the detective on his case.”

While writing Pop and Rebecca’s dad, Stan, doesn’t make me miss my own father and grandfather less, it does make me smile. I hope their antics in SKATING OVER THE LINE (Sept. 27th, 2011 EEEK!) make you smile, too!

Get out your dancing shoes

/in /by
by: Joelle Charbonneau
Let the trumpets and cymbals sound. Tell the band to strike up a tune because we are having a party. I am celebrating the completion of my new novel. Hurray! And at the end of this post I plan on giving something away to complete the celebration. So stay tuned.
Writing this manuscript was a great deal of fun and now comes the real work – editing it. There are a lot of schools of thought on how and when you should edit. And since I tend to like to try new things will admit that I’ve probably tried them all.

There are a lot of writers who actually edit as they write their first draft. Susan Elizabeth Philips is one who edits what she wrote the previous day before getting down to writing new pages. That way the story gets cleaned up and the characters are fresh in her head when she gets down to business. It might take longer to get the manuscript written, but hey – it is ready to go out the door when you’re done. This one has never worked for me, but Susan’s writing rocks. Which clearly means I am doing something wrong.

A lot of people say that once a book is finished you should stick it in a drawer for a couple of weeks so you have enough distance that you can look at your work with a fresh eye. This was one of those things my high school English teachers always told me to do. And hey – it sounded great, but during my high school years I worked best under pressure. As in midnight before the paper is due at 8AM kind of pressure. (And yes for all my college friends – I confess. I did this in college, too.) Fresh eyes? HA! I was happy to settle for slightly reddened eyes. But while I didn’t use this much in my early years, I feel it has huge merit and I’ve used it more than once to what I hope was great success. Distance between you and your writing means you’ll actually see what is written on the page instead of what you intended to write.

Which brings me to method number three. This won’t come as a surprise to my family or my friends, but I am kind of the impatient sort. If there is work to be done, I want to do it NOW! Which is why I ask (beg, bribe, threaten) my fabulous beta reader and wonderful husband to read along as I write. (Yes, our marriage survives this, which is a testament to his patience or my cooking – you can decide which.) He makes notes on the manuscript which gives me a starting point when I go back and start revising. Which tends to be the day after I finish the book. And yes – you guessed it. I have already started revising my current manuscript. I can’t help myself.

Which way is best? You tell me. Is there one editing plan that works better for you than another? Did you revise one way in high school and change your style in college? I really want to know.

And for all of you still reading this post – I have an extra ARC copy of SKATING OVER THE LINE (Sept. 27, St. Martin’s Minotaur) that I am going to give away to one commenter today! Please leave your name and e-mail address in the comments line so I can get a hold of the winner. I’ll do the drawing after midnight so get your comments in before then.
Thanks for celebrating with me.