posted by Loucinda McGary aka Aunty Cindy
Way back when I was an AYU (As Yet Unpublished) writer (Was it really only 2 years ago?), I never envisioned having this problem. Just a couple of weeks ago, I attended the RWA National Conference in Washington DC and during the conference, I signed copies and talked to readers about my debut release, The Wild Sight. As soon as I got home, I had to finish up work on my third book, The Wild Irish Sea, scheduled for a Spring 2010 release. Meanwhile, I'm about to embark on my whirlwind blog tour for The Treasures of Venice, due to hit bookstores on Sept. 1st.
I know, I know! We should all have such problems... But honestly, I'm beginning to feel a bit like I'm suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder! Which book am I working on? Which characters am I channeling today? Am I promoting? Writing? Revising?
Silly me, I never stopped to consider what it would be like to keep all these things going at the same time. Waay back in August, 2007 I just wanted to sell a book! Not that I'm complaining, mind you! Heck! What's a little Multiple Personality Disorder among friends? I mean, I've heard voices for years... my characters that is! That doesn't make me schizophrenic... does it?!?!
Okay, before I freak myself (or anyone else) out about the state of my mental health, let me share an excerpt from The Treasures of Venice which will be released in slightly over three weeks. This book features a dual storyline in both contemporary and 1485 Venice (Oh no! My poor book has Multiple Personality Disorder too). This time, here's a look at Nino, the hero in 1485:
Mortified, Serafina dabbed at her face with the edge of her shawl.
The handsome young sculptor touched her arm and she opened her eyes into his worried gaze--a gaze as wondrously blue as the background of his trumpeting angel medallions. Her breath momentarily caught in her throat. His hand felt warm and comforting, and a sudden urge to throw herself into his arms and weep seized her.
No! She had already been far too familiar with this stranger. Her mother would be beside herself if she found out. Serafina could hear her scolding voice sternly reminding that no matter his talent, this young man was far below her social station. Such things were of the utmost importance to her mother and father. As their only surviving daughter she could not disgrace herself further.
“Please don’t cry, milady, for surely your sister rests in a better place now.” The concern in his soft voice sounded genuine, caring.
Her intentions wavered like the flickering candle flames.
“Oh, Nino, I don’t deserve your sympathy,” she admitted, dropping her rosary back into the pocket of her gown. “I weep for myself, not my poor sister. I’m a selfish monster who fears ending up like her.”
“You are hardly selfish and far from a monster.”
His rough thumb rubbed away yet another tear trailing down her cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle and made a ribbon of warmth wind through her.
“Few of us seek death, even though he always finds us.”
Ever felt like your grip on reality might be just a wee bit shaky? You can tell us CasaBabes! Or maybe Aunty is alone in her mental instability? Naw! I've still got my voices!
Please join me for my Launch Party on Aug. 31st! There will be cyber-bubbly, fun, games, and REAL prizes! Aunty promises.