Lynn Raye Harris

I’m blogging at I Heart Presents today. Come read about my call story and say hello!

Spammers surely have their own place reserved in hell. I get a lot, but my email does a nice job of filtering it. Though it sometimes sends things I want to see to the spam folder. Because of this, I tend to skim the contents before deleting. (I had an email from Harlequin go to spam — yikes!)

You know the trends. Male enhancement products (no, I do NOT want my thing to be bigger because I don’t HAVE a thing, thank you), dates, h*rny girls in your area, people on webcams supposedly wanting to hook up, lottery wins, cheap drugs, etc.

But a new one cropped up lately that had me giggling. Don’t know why, but I find this one funny: see your neighbor n*ked (the asterisk will hopefully prevent blog hits, but you get the point). Now why on earth would I want to do that? Have you seen my neighbor? I don’t live next door to David Beckham or Brad Pitt, you know!

No, I live next to normal people (I hope they’re normal). There’s a good ol’ boy who likes to fire up his lawnmower at 7AM on a Saturday (no kidding), an air marshal, a few engineers, and maybe even a military guy. No one I want to see in the buff.

What I really want to know is who falls for this stuff? If people weren’t clicking on these emails and following through, there’d be no spam. So someone could right now be viewing a nude neighbor. That’s something to think about the next time you disrobe for a shower, eh?

Picture from www.funnyville.com.

Click on over to I Heart Presents and see what my editor has to say about calling me with the good news. Tomorrow, you should be able to read my version of events when I guest blog there.

A very good writer friend of mine made an announcement recently that has me reeling in my socks. She’s quitting the biz. She’s tired of the rejections and heart break and she needs time away.

I understand this, I really do. At the same time, I want to grab her and shake her and tell her she’s not allowed, under ANY circumstances, to quit! I’m furious and upset and sad. She’s one of the finest unpublished writers I know. She’s not unpublished because she has no talent. She’s unpublished because she hasn’t hit that right combo of luck, talent, and timing yet. Her books are not easily categorized. They aren’t trendy. They are, however, full of emotion and damn fine storytelling.

But one editor too many sent her a rejection this month. It’s not just this month, of course, because that would be silly. And she’s not being silly, though I still think she’s wrong. After years of contest finals and near-misses, she’s just tired. Worn out and tired of being hurt. I understand.

Yet I want to give her a flame-retardant suit and tell her to keep going. I’ve quit before. I convinced myself writing wasn’t for me. I missed it from time to time, but I went back to school and ended up with an MA for my trouble. I wrote plenty then. Papers, papers, papers.

I missed romance writing. I read it, sighed a lot, thought how apparently I just wasn’t good enough to make it. And then I got an idea. It kept me up at night. I started to write, just for me, and it grew bigger. I kept writing because it was fun when there was no pressure.

That book was pure fun, but I never sent it out. Instead, I started another one. By this time, I knew I was back and the dream was still alive. I finished the next book. Decided it was awful, but I liked the idea. Threw just about everything away and rewrote it. Rewrote it again. That book is HOT PURSUIT, my Golden Heart Finalist.

I am NOT judging my friend. Our roads have been different, and I can’t know her heart. But I grieve for the loss because I know she’s good. I think (hope) she’ll be back. The funny thing about me, when I came back, was I knew I wasn’t ever leaving again. I can’t. I will not quit because I’ve been there and it was no fun.

What would it take to make you quit writing? Do you believe in dragging your broken body up the mountain, or would you say, forget this, and withdraw from the race? Everyone’s different. There is no right answer. But what would it take? I’d really like to know….