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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.

This first day of April was an absolutely beautiful day here in Arkansas. Clear, 82 degrees, a little breezy. Tomorrow is supposed to bring storms — potentially severe storms, which is always a worry in the south — but today was gorgeous. I was unable to resist getting out to play with my camera, so my husband and I had lunch out and whiled away a little time at North Little Rock’s Old Mill, a faux-wood-and-rock structure made of concrete built in 1933 and featured in the opening of the movie, “Gone With the Wind.” The little park surrounding the mill is beautifully landscaped; dogwoods, redbuds, pansies, jonquils and a few other flowers are in full bloom and the azalea bushes are heavy with buds about to pop into color. The photo above was taken from inside the Old Mill. I’ll use a few of the other shots I took today in later posts.

I’ll take the time here to wish a very happy birthday to my oldest daughter. We’re half a country apart, but computers and cell phones keep us closely in touch. Have a very happy birthday, Courtney. I love you.

Now for the winner of today’s drawing for an autographed copy of YESTERDAY’S SCANDAL.  The winner is …

Stephanie Gamm of Pennsylvania! Congratulations, Stephanie. And for everyone who entered and wasn’t drawn, please enter again for the May 1 drawing. Details are on the Enter to Win! page.

For everyone who celebrates the occasion – happy Easter. And to all my friends here, I hope you find a beautiful day soon to enjoy the changing of the seasons.

I’ve spent a lot of time with writers lately. Last weekend, I attended and presented at a Shreveport, Louisiana conference sponsored by the NOLA STARs, a chapter of Romance Writers of America. I had a great time, met some new friends, reconnected with a few I hadn’t seen in a while. What a warm and welcoming group they are!

Yesterday, I attended the monthly meeting in Little Rock of the local RWA chapter, Diamond State Romance Authors. Local author Shayla Kersten led an interesting discussion on self-editing, including reminders we can all use of how to tighten and punch up our writing. Afterward, several of us went out for lunch and more talk about writing. To be honest, I considered not going to the meeting. I settle so comfortably into my rut of staying at home to write and putter that I have to make myself get out and about at times. I’m so glad I went yesterday! I had a lovely time, met a couple of  local authors I can already tell are going to become friends, and had the chance to swap writing stories, something I always enjoy.

I’ve mentioned before that I am always fascinated by discussion of how different people create. The ambiance they require — music or coffee shop chatter or total silence. The plotting process — detailed synopses or seat-of-the-pants storytelling? Starting with character sketches or conflict ideas? Linear progression or random scenes later organized into a cohesive story? (Yes, I know someone who writes that way).

If you’ve read this blog, you probably know by now that I write on a laptop in my den — rarely in the office I built for that purpose — listening to music through headphones and gazing out the patio door that is my window to the outside world. I still don’t quite understand why I have so much trouble writing in my nice office — perhaps the feng shei is off or there’s something too restrictive and business-like about the idea of working at a desk surrounded by files and office equipment.

We all hear stories about J. K. Rowling writing parts of her early Harry Potter books on napkins in coffee shops, and I have several writer friends who write in coffee shops and libraries. Others enjoy going on writing retreats with other writers, spending an entire day or weekend writing with brainstorming breaks. I find it difficult to write anywhere but home. Maybe it’s because I leave my house so rarely that I go into sensory overload when I do. The sights and sounds and smells of home are so familiar that they barely penetrate my consciousness as I immerse myself in my story. But out there … so much to see, so many people to study, so many conversations all but inviting me to eavesdrop, so many sounds and scents to investigate. Coffee shops come with the temptations of delicious and calorie-laden drinks and treats, while libraries are filled with intriguing books and magazines to peruse.

I’ve been told by another writer friend that I have the attention span of a gnat, and trying to write out in public certainly proves that to be true! I get lots of story ideas when I’m out and about, but it’s at home in my den where I commit them to the pages.

Where do you feel most creative? In your home, a studio, a coffee shop? Wherever it is, I hope you find time in the coming week to let your imagination run free.

March is more than halfway over! Don’t forget to enter the drawing for the autographed book to be given away on April 1. Click the Enter to Win! tab above for details.

Back at home after a lovely weekend writers’ conference in Shreveport, I’m brainstorming this week on ideas for my next Silhouette Special Edition. With the four book Doctors in Training series completed (click the Books Available Now! tab for details and publication dates), I’m not quite ready to leave the imaginary hospital setting I created for those characters. There are so many stories yet to be told there — so many jobs and lives affected by a large, teaching hospital. I never actually named the hospital in that series, but I’m calling it River City Medical Center (RCMC) for the next series of books, and I have several ideas for potential storylines.

As I sit in front of a blank screen to create a new book, the first challenge I face is choosing names for my two main characters. I can’t even start writing a synopsis or chapter without having those names chosen — nor can I just call them names selected at random. I can spend hours browsing lists of names, choosing just the right ones for the characters nagging at the back of my mind for me to tell their story. I have a general idea of the character type — a profession, perhaps, or a personality trait I want to explore — but until I know the name, I can’t really get to know the person. I’ve even started stories that just wouldn’t work until I changed the character’s name — and suddenly the words started flowing better! Odd, hmm?

I have several well-worn baby name books, and I’ve bookmarked a few favorite baby name sites on-line. I tend to cruise slowly through the names, making a tentative list of possibilities, until one name seems to stand out as the obvious choice. Sometimes it’s the meaning of the name that speaks to me — I love finding out the origin and meaning of names. Sometimes, I just like the way it sounds. For surnames, I turn to phone directories, genealogy sites, newspapers, wherever a list of names might appear. After 97 books, I try not to use the same names too many times, so I keep a master list of all my heroes and heroines, just to double-check whether I’ve used the names before (it’s not always easy to remember after 24 years of writing).

So, this new book, which has no title yet and is still at the earliest stage of plotting, will be about a surgeon, Meagan Baker, and a single-dad attorney, Seth Llewellyn. Why did I choose those names? I like to think the characters led me to the right ones. After all, they have to first become real to me if I hope to make them real for my readers.

I have to confess that I went through pretty much the same process choosing names for my real-life children. My husband and I browsed name books and discussed favorite family names until the right names were simply obvious to both of us. Courtney was a name I had fallen in love with from a book I’d read as a teenager (I didn’t particularly like the character, but I loved her name). Kerry was a slightly changed spelling of my husband’s late grandmother, Carrie. Their middle names were chosen for similar reasons. As for our son, his first name is the same as my husband’s, a 5-generation family name, but we call him by his middle name, David. Courtney begged to name him after the character “David Banner” from the TV program, The Incredible Hulk, which she enjoyed as a small child. And we all love the name, despite its slightly unusual source.

Would our kids be different people if we had chosen different names? It’s an interesting question.

My father’s name is Vernon and my mother was Elizabeth (Beth for short). My paternal grandmother insisted that I should be named Verna Beth, which she thought was a very clever use of both their names. My mother, thank goodness, hated that name and insisted on naming me Gina — hardly a common name in Arkansas at the time. I never even knew another Gina until I was in high school, and her name was actually Regina. I like my name. Would my life have been different had I answered to Verna Beth? I’m not sure, but it’s certainly thought-provoking.

And now, Meagan and Seth are growing impatient for me to bring them to life on my computer screen, so it’s back to work for me. I’ll tell you a little more about them as I develop their story. But at least they have names.

Don’t forget to enter the drawing for a free book to be given away on April 1. Click the Enter to Win! tab above for details.