June 30 2015 Romance Weekly

Do you like to read romance novels? Wouldn't you like to know more about your favorite authors? Well you came to the right place! Join the writers of Romance Weekly as we go behind the scenes of our books and tell all..... About our writing of course! Every week we'll answer questions and after you've enjoyed the blog on this site we'll direct you to another. So come back often for a thrilling ride! Tell your friends and feel free to ask us questions in the comment box.

Welcome back to Romance Weekly.

In the round robin of our blog hop, Elizabeth Janette is before me this week. Make sure to check out her blog when you are finished here. She's the author of Redemption for Liars, a book of murder and mayhem.

It is an interesting blog hop this week for our writers. Xio Axelrod, author of The Calum, asks the following:

If you were’t a writer, what other creative career would you most want to try?

Hmmm... This is a tricky question this week. I think as a creative expression, and lets ignore the fact that I'm in no shape and probably too old to attempt this career, but I think I would like to try dancing. I mean really dancing like on Dancing With the Stars. I'm not a huge fan of the show, but I have massive amount of respect for those who can pull off dancing moves like it's nothing. When I do catch an episode I can't tear my eyes away. There is a dedication involved that makes it look so easy. I know it's not easy at all! I'm amazed at what these dancers can do.

There is something about dancing that combines several different creative processes, what type of music, the choreography of the dance, the emotional expression through body movements that all appeal to me.

Me being able to do it is an entirely different topic! It's been ages since I've danced. I never had dance lessons as a child so when I was out of college and had finally become an "adult" I took a few lessons back when country line dancing was all the craze. Maybe dance lessons of a different nature are in my future, but I'll probably leave all those moves to the professionals.

Thanks for stopping by. Find out what Romance Weekly author, Brenda Margriet's alternate career choice would be to express her creativity.

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Self-doubt Creates Catastrophes

The World Has Ended!Picture provided by depositphotos.com — The World Has Ended!
*Picture provided by depositphotos.com*

There are people who have said to me, "I’m not creative, I’ll never be creative. You can’t force me to be creative by saying that everyone is creative."

Slow down young buck.

What these individuals do not know is they are already being creative in their downward spiral of creative catastrophes.

I do it all the time, and that’s when I realized I was using my creative force, my passion and my feelings to make a wild world of doom and gloom. (I’ve since channeled this into my fiction - most days - and in general I'm happier for it.) I didn’t want to live in a world of doom and gloom, but my subconscious mind was feeding me the biggest doozies of them all.

Maybe these catastrophes of self-doubt sound familiar. Maybe you have some that are even better.

1. I can’t be a writer. I won’t make any money and without money I’ll lose the house, the car, the kids, my spouse, my book club friends, my dog won’t like me and then I’ll be homeless living in a box alone.

(Yeah... shut the front door on that one, please!)

2. I can’t create a new painting. If no one likes it then I’ll be devastated and fall into depression where all my family and friends will tar and feather me and force me to go on the show Hoarders and make me throw all my art supplies into the trash.

(Create for yourself. Everyone else can kiss yo.... I digress.)

3. I’ll never be able to create a new song that sounds original. All I hear are the kids in the background screaming and fighting and then the dog will puke on the carpet and I’ll have to clean it up and no one wants to sing a song about dog vomit.

(There's a song about toast so sing about life and it's hilarity. Make no excuses!)

So…

Maybe you read one of these and thought, OMG this chick read my freaking mind. She is psychic.

I’ll say, you’re one creative sum-a-bitch if you create these catastrophes on a daily basis. And also you’re not the only one.

When things go badly it’s easy to spiral all the good away and create a place where nothing good happens. This is creative self-doubt and it is the birthplace of dead dreams. Once the self-doubt multiplies our dreams fall into a decline and sometime we do as well.

Could these things happen?

Why not.

Lots of stuff happens in life, but until it does why funnel all the talent you have into what MIGHT happen. Funnel it into what you are passionate about, music, writing, art. Funnel it into your day job if that’s what makes you happy. Funnel it into raising your kids or your dog. There are so many ways to be creative. I know I fall onto the path of what stereotypes define or what society thinks a creative endeavor has to be, and I frequently remind myself to SLOW down.

Self-doubt is a part of being human. Recognize it and then beat it into submission. Creativity is also a part of being human. Use it to create something awful. You never know who might like it or be moved by your struggles.

What are your creative catastrophes?

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Woeful Wednesday June 24 2015

I have had many pets in my life and they have always grabbed my heart. I love animals, always have.

Last week our dear Boxer, Tank "Tankers", left this world.

I think Tank's death was more emotional for me than any other pet I've had because Tank came into my life as an adult and actually lived with us in our home. The pets I had as a child were outside animals, as I lived on a farm. Living with a pet, caring for them in our homes integrates them into our lives. We have this feeling when they are young that they will live forever. We know in our mind that is an impossible reality, but push those thoughts away.

I think the difference with "Tankers" is we didn't go out and look for him or actively say we want to go get another dog, especially a stubborn Boxer mix. We already had two dogs at the time, Abby and Daisy who are Lab mixes. They were about two years old at the time. A family member couldn't take care of Tank any longer. They loved him and wanted him to have a good home and we thought, "Oh, this shouldn't be a problem. Abby and Daisy are two years old and have calmed down a little from their puppy-ness." So, Tank moved in. He was about 8 months old.

Okay. Boxer owners are probably laughing because we did not understand that Boxers are puppies forever! We had our trials and tribulations with this stubborn dog and in the mean time his antics and clowning attitude melted our hearts. He got the Labs rowdy again and terrorized our cats, but would sit right in front of one of us with a kong stuck sideways out the side of his mouth and growl for playtime. The kong acted like a megaphone. Then he would shake his head and paw the ground playfully. "Pay attention to me!"

Tank was also a lover not a fighter. Any attention he could get made him the happiest pup in the world! There wouldn't be a moment he wasn't leaning on my legs, or begging to snuggle in my lap. Now, he was a small boxer (mixed with Boston Terrier if you can imagine) so he was about 40-45 lbs. So, yes he was a lap dog and soaked it up! He was spoiled.

When our baby boy was learning to crawl and walk, Tank was the most patient of buddies. The baby loved the dogs and thought they were all the most hilarious creatures he had ever seen. One day, Tank was just sitting, watching and not doing much of anything else and the baby couldn't stop laughing when he looked at this dog. It was adorable.

When Tank started losing weight, I feared the worse. It didn't make sense that he would be the first to go. The Labs are older than him by two years, but he became more frail as the months went on. He didn't act his playful self. The vet couldn't find a mass and blood work was normal, but last weekend after months of decline he looked so tired. He was losing vision and getting skinnier every day. He had trouble walking up the stairs and frequently ran into things. His body was failing him. He followed me every where I went and it pained me to leave him alone. When it was time I didn't leave him until he left this world.

I hope he is at peace now. I know he's not suffering, but I miss him. A lot.

Photos by Fiona Riplee

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