Author: Gina Wilkins

I learned a new medical term last week. Blepharoconjunctivitis. The basic definition is inflammation of the conjunctiva (the membrane lining the eyelids and covering the eyeball) and the eyelid.

I wish I could say I learned the term while doing research for my current medical-themed book for Silhouette Special Edition. Unfortunately, I heard it from my doctor when I went to see her last Wednesday with my right eye blood-red, swollen almost closed, and leaking tears and goo (sorry for the image — I actually tried to understate how bad it was). She prescribed an antibiotic ointment I’ve used before that’s so thick I’ve always compared it to smearing axle grease in my eye, which makes it interesting trying to see through the resulting film.

I have to admit my eye bothered me for a full week before I saw the doctor. I have a chronic problem with my right eye being irritated and developing styes, so I just assumed it was my usual and treated it with eye drops I keep on hand. By the time I broke down and went to the doctor, it was pretty nasty – and it got worse during the weekend. I missed the monthly meeting of my local Romance Writers of America chapter that I was really looking forward to, and I spent the weekend whimpering and feeling sorry for myself.

Would it have gotten to that point if I’d seen the doctor earlier? I don’t know, but I suspect I waited a few days too long to go. As the mother of three medically-inclined offspring, I have an odd aversion to going to the doctor. Those of you who’ve been reading my blog for a while know that I occasionally veer into rants about taking care of yourself — having your regular mammograms, physicals, colonoscopies after 50. Let me add a new piece of advice: see your doctor promptly when you develop a problem that needs intervention! I should start paying a little better attention to my own advice (and the long-distance counsel of my exasperated physician daughter — sorry, Kerry).

I did get a little writing done last week, peering through my one good eye and the hazy slit of the other at the computer screen I had to darken quite a bit for comfort. It was nice to have my fictional world to escape into since I couldn’t physically leave my house for a few days. My doctor heroine would be as exasperated as my doctor daughter if any of her patients were so hesitant to seek treatment, I’m sure.

As promised, I have a title and publication date for you for this story about the workaholic couple — a busy surgeon and a single-dad attorney — trying to find time in their schedules to fall in love. THE M.D. NEXT DOOR will be on the shelves in January, 2011. Before then, you can find THE DOCTOR’S UNDOING in July and PROGNOSIS: ROMANCE in September. (Click the Books Available Now tab for details on upcoming titles).

Don’t forget to enter your name in the June 1 drawing! Click the Enter to Win! tab for details.

Until you visit again — take good care of yourselves!

The winner of this month’s drawing for two baby-themed books is Lydia Cheatham from my home state of Arkansas! Congratulations, Lydia, I’ll get those in the mail to you this week.

We had a scary weekend of storms and power outages, but today is simply beautiful here in central Arkansas.  My prayers go out today to those who lost their homes and to the families of the two people who lost their lives here in this state during the weekend, and to the thousands now dealing with flooding across the South.

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The prize for the June 1 drawing is detailed on the Enter to Win! page. Don’t forget to send me an email to let me know you want to be included in the drawing.

The hero of the book I’m writing now for Silhouette Special Edition (title and publication date to be announced later) is a single dad of a thirteen-year-old girl. I love writing about dads and daughters. There are so many intriguing angles to explore of those relationships. My husband is simply nuts about our two girls (our son, too, but that’s another type of bond). He has worried about them, over-protected them, battled with them and guided them during their lifetimes, but mostly he has loved them and taken such pride in their amazing personalities and their accomplishments. It has been especially hard for him to see them grow up and leave the nest — and his protection. It was particularly difficult for him to accept that time when he had to let them go on to lead their own lives so far from home.

I’m fortunate enough to still have my own father. I have very special memories of times with my dad. Camping and cookouts. The times when he and my uncle took me fishing (with three younger brothers, I always enjoyed being the center of Daddy’s attention). Walking me down the aisle in a ruffled, brocade tuxedo he absolutely hated (and rightfully so — what was I thinking? Oh, yes, it was the 70s). Always being there for me to call when I need him.

It’s fun for me to put myself into the head of my single-dad hero and explore his pride, his worry, his bafflement and his love for the little girl who’s growing up all too quickly. Adding a romance to the mix makes the whole adventure even more fun, especially when the heroine is a workaholic surgeon who never imagined herself becoming an instant mom to a teenager. I hope you’ll enjoy getting to know them, too, when the book is published early next year.

In the meantime, the next installment in my Doctors in Training series, THE DOCTOR’S UNDOING, will be available in July. If you’ve missed the first two books in the series, check eHarlequin.com to see if they are still available, or check with me at the email address given on the Contact Me tab above. All the stories stand alone, so you won’t be confused if you miss one or read them out of order.

Don’t forget to sign up for this month’s drawing for two baby-themed books (in honor of spring). Click the Enter to Win! tab above for details on how to enter.

So if someone told me tomorrow I had only a few days to live, my first thought would be, “But I would miss the finale of Lost!”

Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. But I am very much invested in that serialized television program, I’m loving the unfolding of the story lines this season, and I can’t wait to see how it all wraps up. Will all our questions be answered? Will the writers remember to tie up all the lose threads from past seasons? (I fear that some will be forgotten.) Who will survive and who will be sacrificed to the mysterious island? And does Richard really wear guyliner? Perhaps we’ll never know the answer to that last question.

I’ve grown up in the television generation. I clearly remember watching the Beverly Hillbillies on our old black-and-white set when I was only 5 or 6 years old. I remember the first color program I ever saw (Flipper). I remember our first color set with its spindly antennae that had to be  adjusted constantly. And the programs — lots of Westerns in the beginning. The Rifleman. Sugarfoot. Gunsmoke. Wagon Train. I remember watching Captain Kangaroo, and loving the stories he read in his soothing, cheery voice. The sitcoms — Dick Van Dyke, Andy Griffith, Leave it to Beaver, Danny Thomas and Patty Duke. The variety shows — Dean Martin, Perry Como, Andy Williams.

In my teens, I began to form my own tastes in programming. I remember falling desperately in love with Jeremy Bolt (actor Bobby Sherman) in Here Come the Brides. With Johnny Madrid (James Stacy) in Lancer. I loved Star Trek and Batman, Lost in Space and The Monkees. It Takes a Thief, Dark Shadows, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. and The Girl from U.N.C.L.E. I spent hours playing girl spy!  (My chronology is probably hopelessly muddled – I remember the programs, but not the years they aired). The Wonderful World of Disney movies. Laugh-In and The Smothers Brothers. That Girl and Cagney and Lacey. The Mod Squad. All of those programs and others I’ve neglected to name from my youth have influenced my imagination and undoubtedly my writing career.

I married another television buff, and I confess we’ve logged many TV hours during our thirty-three years of marriage. We don’t always agree on shows we like. He likes his dramatic programming grittier and plot driven, I prefer fluffier, character-based shows with romantic potential. I loved Remington Steele (well, the early seasons), he hated it. I find Criminal Minds generally depressing, it’s his favorite program. Two and a Half Men sends me screaming out of the room, while he never misses it. I enjoy So You Think You Can Dance (not scripted, but fun to watch), which he doesn’t like at all. But it’s fun when we do follow the same programs. We generally view an hour of TV an evening together. It’s fun to watch a story unfold, to speculate together on what will happen next, or to see favorite characters develop and grow. During the years, we’ve enjoyed all the Star Trek series, dramas such as La Femme Nikita, L.A. Law, St. Elsewhere and The Pretender, classic sitcoms like Friends and Cheers and Frasier. We’ve watched Lost from the beginning. We like Fringe and Eureka and Castle and Burn Notice and House.

I will always be an avid reader, finding so many friends and adventures in books, but reading is pretty much a solitary activity. Yes, I can discuss the books with other readers, but fewer people read the same books than watch the same TV programs. There’s a bond in sharing those unfolding stories that can unite strangers at the water coolers, or spark discussions at on-line fan sites (such as Television Without Pity) that can lead to actual friendships. I have several good on-line friends I’ve “met” through those sites, a few of whom have enriched my life for several years now, making me feel as though I know them quite well. Our shared pleasure in the stories led us to discoveries of other things we have in common.

Just as earlier civilizations bonded with tales told around the campfire, television is the flickering light around which we now gather to have our imaginations captivated by clever storytellers. Yes, I have a “real life” — quite busy at times, though not as hectic now that I’m an empty-nester as it was when I had three kids in choir, drama, piano, church activities, drill team and school clubs. I admit cheerfully that TV is a part of that life. The kids bonded with us over quite a few shows in their childhoods. As it was for me, TV was part of their youth, though I kept a fairly close eye on the programs they were allowed to watch (the variety being so much greater than the 3 networks available when I was young). They’re too busy these days to watch much (not having yet reached the slower-paced life stage their dad and I have achieved). In addition to establishing their careers in science and medicine, they like to travel and socialize and hike and ski and play board games and video games and play music and many other activities, but they also enjoy a good story — whether in a book, on a stage, on a theater screen or on a monitor (TV or computer). I like to think I’ve nurtured the fanciful side of their personalities along with the practical.

I have a blessedly free evening ahead, so once I finish my work for today, I’ll relax with the book I’m reading from the top of my teetering to-be-read pile, and new episodes of House and Castle. I’m so grateful for all the gifted storytellers who have provided so much pleasure during my life — and I can’t wait for the next great virtual adventure!

It has been a difficult week.

A week ago today my husband, John, lost a good friend to cancer. Like John, Carlton loved woodworking, and they and another woodworking buddy, Vernon, spent many hours talking about tools and techniques and visiting each other’s shops. Last year, John built a beautiful oak bookcase for our son’s college dorm room, with raised panel sides and crown molding at the top and bottom. John is primarily a woodturner, whereas Carlton built furniture, so he gave John quite a few tips on the raised panel inserts. It will be an heirloom piece for our son, who will remember that it was handcrafted by his dad, with help from Vernon and their late friend, Carlton. John and Vernon were pallbearers for their friend’s funeral Monday morning. They will miss him deeply, though they’ll always treasure the memories of the hours they whiled away together with the hobby they all loved.

The day after Carlton slipped away, a couple we’ve been close with for more than two decades lost their only child, their 25-year-old son, Thomas. John and I knew Thomas from the time he was little more than a toddler, watching him grow up into a tall, handsome medic in the Army National Guard. When our house was hit by the tornado in ’05, Thomas came immediately with his father in a torrential downpour to help us tarp the shattered roof, and worked to help us save what we could from the rooms that were hit the worst. I’ll never forget the way he hugged me — for perhaps the first time since he was a little boy — and told me, “All of this can be fixed. I’m just glad you and John are okay.” His funeral was on Wednesday.

Needless to say, I’ve done little writing this week. Today I’ve been sitting at my computer working on my next Silhouette Special Edition. It’s difficult sometimes to concentrate on the generally light, happy-ever-after stories I so love to write when real life becomes difficult. I was having some trouble getting into the story this morning … and then I checked my email. A reader from Michigan had found me through this website, and she sent me a note telling me how much she has been enjoying my Doctors in Training series. She told me she is a single mother of a child with developmental disorders and that books provide her with a few hours of escape from her responsibilities. She thanked me for taking her into a place “where love conquers all, and it’s easy to believe in happy endings.”

I’ve always said I’m not trying to change the world with my books. I’m not trying to teach deep lessons or make profound observations. I simply want to entertain. To elicit a smile or a few happy tears. Just as I enjoy relaxing for a few hours with a good book or movie or television program, I hope to be able to provide a similar escape for my readers. Thanks, M.L., for reminding me of why I continue to pursue this career I have loved for so many years!

May all of you find a few moments of joy today in your own harmless, escapist pleasures and happy memories.