I love it when friends stop by to chat

Sunday, April 18, 2010
An Interview With Julie Church-Romero--By Kurt Chambers


Today I would like to introduce to you a very good friend of mine, Julie Church-Romero. I met Julie in The Young Adult Novel Workshop some years ago where she was an much loved member of our little family of critics. Now she has bloomed into a published author, and I'm so glad to be able to show her off to the world. Hey, look everyone, it's Julie! *points* haha!!

Me: Hi Julie, we are so humbled to have you visit our blog this week. Please make yourself at home while I fire some random questions at you. I with try to be gentle, I promise. *rubs hands*

I know you come from a family of writers, but who would you say was your biggest inspiration in the writing field?

Julie: I took an online class through Writers Digest and had an instructor, Author Bonnie Hearn Hill who was very complimentary toward my writing. I think she was the first real writer that wasn’t family that made me feel maybe I really could get published!

Me: You've had a stab at writing YA with Judy, and you're published in romance, but which genre would be your first choice if you could choose any genre to be published in?

Julie: I really like historical romance or historical fiction. That’s what I feel most at home with writing. I love my YA novel and I haven’t forgotten about Judy, the teenage super hero. She’s still in the wings waiting for me to fill in her plot holes. Maybe if I stick Judy back in time, I’d finally finish her.

Me: That's great! I often wondered what happened to her.

What do you like to read the most?

Julie: It kind of depends on my mood. Crime novels if I’ve had a bad day, romance if I’ve had a good day… I love Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum novels for a good laugh, Philippa Gregory for historic. And I love JA Jance’s Seattle Crime novels.

Me: If I made myself comfortable on your side of the bed, and reached over to your bedside cabinet, what book would I find?

Julie: I’m currently reading my friend Eva’s novel, Entirely Yours, as well as a biography on John Lennon and Janet Evanovich’s Finger Lickin' Fifteen.

Me: All us poor unpublished authors are dying to know what it feels like when you receive that first golden acceptance letter. Describe that moment for us and make us all jealous...lol...

Julie: I love talking about this! It came by way of email, actually. I had just come home from Los Angeles from visiting my parents. I’ve dreamt of it for so long, I had to read the letter several times before it dawned on me A Soldier’s Embrace had been accepted for publication and I was being offered a contract. And then my husband and I ran through the house laughing and screaming, much to my neighbors' delight. When I received my welcome letter from Bluewood Publishing a couple of weeks later, I framed it and now have it hanging over my computer. I still get giddy when I read it.

Me: Now that you've made it as an author, what is your biggest fear?

Julie: Spiders. I hate them. Little, big, it doesn’t matter.

Me: You big girl...lol...

Julie: Second to that, I’d have to say I fear that second attempt at publication. You know, the whole “first novel a fluke” worry. I wrote a blog on it this week, actually.

Me: Have you got any advice for any up-and-coming authors?

Julie: Believe in yourself and in your writing, and don’t listen to the critic in your head. Just keep sending out your best work and the reward will follow. I’m also a big believer in critic groups. It’s amazing how much I’ve learned from fellow writers like you who care enough to be honest and point out how flaws and plot problems drag your story down.

I have to say that I really want to stress the fact there comes a point where you have to stop editing your novel. It’s NEVER going to be perfect or possibly even finished in your eyes. I’m still wanting to change things and edit A Soldier’s Embrace and the book is published and in paperback! In one word - “LetItGo” Trust me, your editor will get frustrated with you if you keep taking it back to change things.

Me: Where do you see yourself in ten years from now?

Julie: My dream is to have a large following of readers, to have my books in libraries and to be able to quit my 9-5 job and have my writing support me.

Me: Wouldn't that be nice! I'm totally with you on that one.

If you could invite any author (alive of dead) around to your house for tea, who would you invite and why?

Julie: Oh man, so many to choose from. Well, my brother Mike wasn’t an author. He was a producer for a small television station and a comedy writer for radio personalities. He passed away in 2000 from cancer, but I’d love to have him to tea. And toast. He loved buttered toast. It would be wonderful to have an afternoon to ask for his advice and to talk about our favorite episodes of Seinfeld. The Bubble Boy, The puffy pirate shirt, Shrinkage… Dr. Seuss would also be incredibly interesting. I hope the whole tea would be spoken in rhyme.

“Would you like tea with sugar or honey?"

“Oh yes of course, I think you’re so funny.”

I think Janet Evanovich would be a hoot as well. She just sounds like a really fun person.

Me: Awwww, what an awesome answer. Green Eggs And Ham was always my favourite.

Talking of favourites, here is my favourite question. I ask this in all my interviews. If you had one wish, what would it be? And you're not allowed to wish for more wishes...lol...Don't ask me why, I don't make up the wishing rules, haha!!

Julie: World Peace is always good.

Me: *rolls eyes* It's not a Miss World contest...lol...

Julie: Man Kurt, I don’t know! To be honest, I think my wish is just to be a self sufficient writer; an incredibly wealthy self sufficient writer.

Me: Now is your chance to shine. Please tell us all about your awesome novel, A Soldier's Embrace, we are all dying to hear about it.

Julie: A Soldier’s Embrace is set in 1878, on the hostile prairie of the American West, centered in the budding city of Denver Colorado and the harsh plains of Wyoming. Gold rustling, stage robberies and an angry Sioux nation, make Cavalry Lieutenant Eric Ryan’s job difficult enough. Add saving a spoiled kidnapped debutante to the mix and it’s nearly impossible.

Kidnapped from a stage coach, Elizabeth Davenport escapes her gold thirsty captors with her virtue intact, only to find her heart stolen by the dashing Cavalry officer who rescues her. The last thing she expected was to fall in love with a soldier. Though separated by class, her heart can't forget him, nor can her body. When Elizabeth’s father, the President of Denver’s National Bank worries his bank and assay office is going to be robbed, he requests the assistance of the young lieutenant who saved his daughter's life. But Elizabeth’s jealous fiancé, Warren, has other plans for Eric.

Me: Thank you SO much, Julie, for coming to visit us today, it was a real pleasure to share a little piece of your world. We all wish you every success in your writing career. You have worked so hard for this, I know from personal experience, and it's an absolute delight to see one of our YA members doing so well.

Please support our authors, everyone, and visit Julie's sites, join her blog, and more importantly, buy her wonderful book! Please feel free to copy this interview and post it in your blog if you are stuck for something to blog about, or at least give it a mention with a link to this article. It would be very much appreciated by Julie and me. And can I urge all you Tweeters out there to give this a mention to. Thank you so much.

You can find Julie here...

Links:

Book site: http://www.julieromero.net/j/soldier.cfm

Blog site: http://doibiething.blogspot.com/

If I were a Seven Dwarf, I think I'd be Grumpy

Arms crossed, impatient, short, hasn't shaved in a really long time because why bother, no one's going to notice anyway, not wealthy but he digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs, digs,-digs the whole day through and pissed off that everyone around him is wasting his time. God, he sounds horrible, miserable to be around!

I think he's me. Or I'm him.

Maybe it's spring, or the fact my pants have gotten too tight, but I have no tolerance for anything anymore. The first word out of my mouth is usually "What!"

For years my sister in law has bought me Grumpy stuff and I always just laughed. I have grumpy slippers, a grumpy nightshirt that says "You woke me for this?!" I have a grumpy bumper sticker but never put it on my car because who the hell would put a grumpy bumper sticker on their car? I have a Grumpy picture frame, for what reason I'm not sure because I'm usually smiling for the camera, A grumpy hat, grumpy socks my parents bought me, a grumpy wrist watch, and grumpy shoe laces.

I think someone is trying to tell me something. So what if I'm grumpy? There are worse Dwarf's to be. I could very easily change Dwarf's and be Sneezy. I sneeze and sniffle more than I bitch or complain. Hey, I could be Gaspy, the Dwarf with Chronic Asthma. I could be Bitchy the lesser known Dwarf or Itchy the Dwarf who always wants you to scratch her back. "Not there, no higher, higher, a little to the side, more, more Yes! Yes! You got it!

Or Bloated, the Dwarf cousin who's always there, but no one talks about. I could be known for wonderful sayings that would look great on any shirt or poster like "Oh, God, when did these booties get so tight, or I have to loosen this damn belt before we gig for gold!"

How about Whiny or Horny? Or Stinky/Gassy, the Dwarf even Snow White abandons. That could have easily be made into a movie- Snow White, the lost years.

Did Walt ever think to give those guys a chance?
I think not.

Second book blues

I just read a blog written by Jennie Marsland, pointing out the dreaded fear we writers have, failure after success. Her words really hit home. She asked the question- could a first book success be nothing more than a fluke? As creators, most of us are private, introverted, afraid to open the doors to our hidden world of words. We write because we have to, but share it, have someone see it, read it, and god forbid, comment on it is scary.

Many of us are closet writers, and to be outed by success only makes us more fearful of the possible rejection to follow. At some point the rose must die, right? I just keep thinking of the hundreds of pages I need to fill-with thousands of words. How did I ever do it the first time?

If writing the first book is acquainted to giving birth, then the second novel is more like a breach birth. I'm writing a follow up to A Soldier's Embrace. I thought reliving the characters, the landscape, the history would be like coming home, and for most of it, it has been. But why then is the plotting seem so unsure and taken me far longer to come up with? My first book fell together. I've changed this plot outline for this second book, three times and as soon as I'm done here, I'm going to attack it again.

Eric and Elizabeth deserve my best-but what if I can't give it? A writer once said, or maybe it was a trucker who coined the phrase, "It's a long haul." Yep. You said it. Anyone else have this fear or any advice to over come the second book blues?

Holy bat crap!

What did I do to my hair? Why did I do this and why didn't someone stop me?

My husband was going to do a photo shoot for me for some publicity photos. For some dumb reason, I decided to color my hair, not the whole thing, just the pesky damn grays that seem to be taking over my head. I went to the store, bought a professional brand that looked harmless enough. Just a ten minute coloring. How bad could this be? The box looked like it would match my color, my unnatural color that is, but no! I get this dark red brown/purple thing going on.

I feel like I'm 17 again and life as I know it has come to a stand still. Oh god, I hate it! So much for the photos.

Sigh. Oh well. I guess it could have turned out green or worse, my hair could have fallen out. I think I'll be washing my hair every ten minutes now.

Calgon, take me away!

Okay, I have a focusing problem. I admit it. I'm finally finished plotting out book two, the sequel to Soldier's Embrace. Now I need to start going through it to make sure it's all plausible and the ends tie up nice and neat. But seriously, I can't focus anymore. Do you know how long it took me to get to this point?

I sit at the key board and then finally when the monitor has faded to black screen from waiting so long I start twirling in my chair and thinking about chocolate and where I can get it. So I trudge down stairs and I start rummaging through cub boards to find the hidden chocolate. Once I have it, I head back up stairs to where the black monitor is waiting for me, but wait, did I do the dishes?

I pause. Yes. I did them this morning during my AM writers block. I start back upstairs again and notice from the corner of my eye that my husband knocked the pillows off the couch and they're on the floor. I can't have that! You'd think I'm a neat freak, but really, if it weren't for writers block, my house would never get cleaned.

So, I trudge downstairs and thrown them back on the couch and fold up the blanket that's laying on the floor. But wait, what's this beneath the blanket? One lone sock. One sad little sock, alone and homeless. I must find its mate. So I go to the laundry room and hunt through the laundry and in doing so, I find a fondue pot that my husband and I got for our wedding 13 years ago. We've never used it for it was one of three. Not that we ever used any of them but now, when I should be writing seems like the best time to bust out a machine I've never before found use for.

Something about opening this box reminds me my neighbor turned 60 several days ago. I bought her a plant and they weren't home to drop it off. What about now? Now is the perfect time to stop what I'm not suppose to be doing to deliver a plant that I should have delivered two days ago. So, off I go. I only stay an hour because I'm suppose to be writing and I really need to research St. Louis historical hotels. But, I'm still craving chocolate. So, before heading back up stairs, I go into the kitchen to find that bag of said chocolate when I find the mess I started with the damn fondue pot.

Here it is, Saturday night and I'm trying to get these stupid metal skewers back into the box. After all, I'm suppose to be writing. How am I ever going to get book two done when I'm stuck doing this crap? I guess I was groaning and cussing because my husband comes down stairs and staring at me, he leans against the wall.

"How's the writing coming?" he asks.

I drop the box with this dramatic groan and turn and glare at him.

"I haven't been able to write, because I had to clean the living room because of the mess you made and then I had to do laundry because you left your clothes laying all over and then there's this mess laying all over the kitchen table..."

He stops me with a raise of his hand and a roll of his eyes. "Don't blame me. You came down here looking for chocolate, didn't you?"

Scary. Did I mention that we've been married for 13 years?