I NEED A VACATION! REALLY BAD! NO KIDDING!

Well, it’s my turn to blog, and I’m sitting here, staring at a blank page, not having the slightest idea what to write about. All writers face this problem from time to time, but sometimes you must produce even when you aren’t feeling romantic, witty, or even murderous. The truth is, I’m just plain tired! I’m writing this at the hospital because I don’t have time to do it at home this week, and I’ll be here again tomorrow night, probably checking vital signs on someone with a new pacemaker at the time this blog posts.

These past few weeks have been a flurry of activity for me, some of it wonderful—for that, see last Sunday’s blog post on Wickedly Romantic—and some of it frustrating enough to drive anyone to drink. But on Saturday, my yearly vacation begins, and when my blog on Wickedly Romantic posts, I’ll be somewhere in Tennessee on my way to Myrtle Beach. Thank goodness I can post these things in advance!

I’ve got a friend who fusses at me regularly for going back to the same place for vacation every year, but I like Myrtle Beach. I know my way around and know the things I want to see again, as well as the things I’d just as soon miss. The Medieval Times dinner theater is a family favorite—sword-wielding men on horseback and the best chicken you’ll ever eat—I mean, what’s not to like? Those knights have been the inspiration for many of my characters, and sometimes I think if I didn’t get to see them every year, I wouldn’t be able to write at all. Training constantly to deliver a believable performance, they ride horses like they were born on them, though most have told me that they’d never even been on a horse before they started working there. I know I’d be a much better rider if I could dedicate as much time to my horses as they do.

Last year, just for fun—and hopefully good luck!—I asked all of the knights to sign the cover letter for the contract for Slave, and one of them actually asked for a copy of the book. Next week, I guess I’ll find out what he thought of it—though he can’t say I didn’t warn him!

Soon I’ll be kicking back, checking out the knights and the hunks on the beach, and dreaming up some new romantic fantasies to write about. But until then, I’ll be here, emptying bedpans and giving antibiotics and wishing I was lying in the sand with the sounds of surf and laughter in my ears and a really good Margarita in my hand.

Oh, yeah! Vacation, here I come!