Hello, hello? Anyone out there?

I couldn't blame you for wondering what on earth ever happened to that Emmie person who wrote a few books and then vanished off the face of the earth. Because that's kind of what happened. Things have been . . . well . . . busy. Let me give you a brief summary:

One of the best things about moving to the US
was getting to celebrate Halloween this year!

I moved countries
I moved to San Francisco, USA, from Melbourne Australia. Moving house is always a busy, stressful time. Believe me, I know -- this was my 28th move (yeah, I know). But moving *countries* is a whole new ball game and I really had no concept of the time it would take to get settled and feel organized.

I started a new, full-time job
Enough said. :)

I found some real-life romance
I found a Mr Love, and for a long time there hasn't been any need for fictional romance. Because my life is now blissfully full of it. (Awww....)

I moved three times since arriving in San Francisco
Because, roommates. Horrendous, awful, hilarious, insane roommates. They will be characters in a book one day. Also, until my current home (a lovely one-bedroom apartment that I DO NOT SHARE WITH ANYONE which has a view of trees and a lake) I didn't have any environment conducive to pulling out the computer and writing words.

I got sick and hurt myself 
People told me that moving countries meant you were exposed to new germs. I didn't give that any thought, since I've travelled so much in my life and figured it just wouldn't be a problem. Then I had four colds in four months. And then I fell over and sprained my ankle quite badly. Not expecting sympathy, just another thing that happened in these past months.

My brain just wasn't filled with stories for a while
I think, maybe, I burnt myself out a little. I had four books published last year (two of them were novellas, but still). I also self-published for the first time, which is an entire learning experience of itself. I think I was a little tired and, with a new non-writing related full-time job, the muse just went on a vacation.

So! That's the Story So Far. The good news is that it feels like muse might be returning. She's rusty and hard to coax into action, but I can definitely feel her back there, tickling my brain, waking up the voices that want to be heard again.

This weekend I attended the RWA San Francisco chapter meeting. As with any romance writing group I've ever been part of, it's full of lovely, friendly, encouraging women. Also some very inspiring, very successful ones!

My goal now is to get some writing done before I go back to the December meeting. Fingers crossed I can get the muse stretched and supple and ready for action soon!

Thank you for hanging in there with me. Big thanks to those readers who've written to me, wanting to know when the next book will be out! Hopefully I will reward you for your patience soon!

Where are you, Emmie?

I'm frantically working hard to meet my deadline, dear readers! I promise I'll be back soon!

Upside Down in NYC

I'd like to think I'm reasonably intelligent. (Reasonably.) And generally speaking, I pride myself on having good navigational ability. I can read maps, and I'm not one of those people who loses their car in the shopping centre car park. In fact with family and friends, I'm usually the one relied upon to find the way back to the exit.

But something weird happens when I travel to the northern hemisphere. My usual sense of direction goes all loopy. Like, practically upside-down.

You know how the water drains down the plughole in the opposite direction in the northern and southern hemispheres? Well, let me add my little theory to this scientific fact. Human bodies are 90% water, right? (Actually a quick Google search tells me it's more like 70%, but still a lot, okay?) So doesn't it make sense that if water twists differently up here, then perhaps my body does too?

Cause there absolutely has to be a reason why I get lost so frequently when I'm overseas.

Yesterday, in New York, I managed to completely confuse myself with "Uptown" and "Downtown" on the subway. It seems pretty obvious, I guess. (Although I will say that the terms are used everywhere without even a hint of what they might mean to the unknowing traveller.)

The street numbering here goes up when you're headed "uptown". And down, when you're going "downtown". But for me, when I get on the uptown train, it FEELS like I'm going DOWNTOWN, i.e. south.

Am I a freak? Is there anyone out there doing research on this fascinating fact? I totally think scientists should get right on this. If only so they can invent a pill that can fix it. I'm totally sick of finding myself on the wrong train.

A photo journey of my travels so far...

It's time for a postcard from me. I can't believe my trip has gone so quickly. And I can see my return date rapidly approaching, too, argh!

So, what have I been doing? Well, looking back over my photos from the past few weeks, it would appear I've been doing a lot of eating and drinking, because there seem to be an inordinate number of photos of wine, cups of tea, and plates of beautifully arranged food.

But it hasn't just been an orgy of dining. I have also seen some pretty amazing places. And hung out with some amazing people.

And seen amazing things.

Like Bevo, who I met in Austin, Texas:

Me and my best bud, Bevo.

Bevo is the official mascot of the Longhorns, the Texas University football team. I have a friend who is an exceptionally passionate fan, who took me to visit both Bevo and the Longhorns merchandise store (all three levels of it). Let's just say I now own more Longhorns merchandise than is entirely savoury for someone who's never actually seen a game (and isn't entirely sure on the rules, despite having watching most of the Superbowl (we turned off when the lights went out, it was getting boring, and besides, Downton Abbey was on.))

I can't wait to wear my Longhorns charm bracelet one night out in Melbs. :)

I also visited some amazing stores in Texas.

Proof I was really in TX.

It got a little chilly, so although I've been keeping a tight hold on the purse strings, I did need a cute new hat to keep my head warm. This one has been doing the trick nicely.

Austin is filled with quirky stores. Lots of Mexican-style handcrafts and decor items too. I adored this wall of crosses.

Although if I was going to take one home, it would have probably been one like this:

All covered in skulls and icons. Love it.

Then there was this store:

                   

It was huge and each little alcove was filled with treasures in the same color family. Red is my favourite color, and there were so many things I wanted to take home, but had to keep remembering luggage limits. So I settled for a photo instead. So much cute stuff in one place.

And just in case you're thinking that Texas has a monopoly on awe-inspiring stores, here's a photo of a place in my very own neighbourhood:

It appears to be primarily filled with a huge number of layered cake stands, but there are also shelves of gorgeous little treasures, and heap of sparkly costume jewellery.

But when it comes to the just plain amazing, nothing beats a store I visited just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. Mr Clines Antiques is a very unique place. It's filled with what I guess some people might call "junk": old signs, old furniture and just plain weird stuff that defies description.

Like these little guys:

I just want to know what they're looking at. Are they watching a Hitchcock movie? Or waiting on the last lotto number to drop in? Or just really, really busting to pee?

And then there was this cute-as-hell little money bank that I desperately wanted to buy. When you put your money in the businessman's head, the hot dog vendor hands over the hot dog. Seriously, how cute is that??

But it was made from cast iron. I could barely lift the thing. Let alone ship it back to Australia with me. Shame. I pouted about that for a while.

These next items were intriguing but there was definitely no chance of them being slipped into my suitcase for the ride home.

Those of you familiar with The Bloggess will no doubt recognise this as a field of poor, neglected Beyonces.

And yes, these chickens will cut you. 

(Did you notice me wearing the sheepskin coat in the previous photo? That belonged to my lovely friend Lee Ann, and I'm so lucky she loaned it to me, because I was woefully underprepared to wander around outside in -2C weather. There was ice on the ground!)

Did I mention that this place is full of just plain weird stuff that defies description? This next photo definitely falls into that category.

It's entire purpose seems to be to enable juvenile-minded people such as myself to take a series of rude photos. But seriously, if it was you, you would have done just the same thing, wouldn't you? Of course you would.

And after all that absurdity, now I want to share with you my favourite photo so far.

I took this photo of the sunrise at Badin Lake.

Those of you who know me well have just gasped twice. Once at the sheer beauty of the photo, and second at the idea of me even being conscious at sunrise, let along taking photos. Well, I was, and I did, so there. With a view like that, who wouldn't make the most of every day?

That's about it for my travel tales today.

I am writing a post in my head about the wonderful (and bizarre) food I've encountered, so stay tuned for that soon!

On being a writer

So, as you know, here I am in Los Angeles, having my "change of scenery" and it's wonderful. It's really, really wonderful. The weather is brilliant (although a little grey today), my temporary home is cute and comfortable, and I've been able to do plenty of things. I haven't been playing the tourist, except for my trip last weekend to Texas which I talked a little about on LoveCats and will probably say more about soon. Instead I've just been getting to know my neighbourhood and working my way through the various restaurants and coffee shops around here, one at a time. (I'll do a post on my favourites, foodies, I promise.)

My 'hood -- Venice Beach. The view the other direction is less . . . sophisticated. :)

One of the things I decided on the way over here, was that if anyone asked me what I did, I'd say "I'm a writer"*. Usually, that's not what I say. I talk about my "other work" and, depending on the person and the situation, I might mention that I also write. It's interesting the reactions I get from people when I do say I'm a writer or when someone else tells them. Thankfully, most of the time it's positive. But, I have to say, the most common response from people in Australia is incredulousness. "Really?" they say, as if I've announced that often like to make tiny tutus for penguins out of recycled plastic. Then, one of two things generally happens.

1. They ask me what I thought about Fifty Shades of Grey.
2. They ask me how much money I earn/how many books I've sold.

Often, both of those things occur, sometimes in different order, sometimes simultaneously if I'm talking to more than one person.

You know what I'm noticing? It's different here.

Even in shops, it's different.

People aren't incredulous, they're impressed. There's a difference.

And they ask different questions. They ask interesting and interested questions. Like:

1. What kind of writing do you do?
2. Who are you published by?
3. How do you write? (Like, what kind of routine do you have?)
4. How do you write? (Like, are you a plotter or a pantser?)
5. What did you think of Fifty Shades of Grey? (There's no escaping that one, I'm afraid.)

I'm not declaring this a scientifically valid study of the differences between Australia and the US (well, LA, really, which is different). There might be much more to it. Perhaps because I've "decided" I'm a writer while I'm here, I answer the question differently, more confidently, which prompts different responses.

Maybe it's because LA is the mecca for people wanting to pursue creative careers. (The bartender at the bar I went to in Santa Monica last week clearly belonged on primetime TV. Or a Calvin Klein billboard. *fans self at the memory*)

Emmie woz here.

The picture above is of me at The Oasis in Austin, Texas. I wrote "Emmie from Australia" on the wall with a heart and a kiss. Because if you're going to publicly claim to be a romance writer, you've got to go all the way.

More travel stories soon..


*In a little test from the universe, the first person I practiced this on was the woman I was sitting next to on the plane from Australia. We talked about my writing and various topics until, just about to disembark, she mentioned that she worked at a large IT company doing the kind of work that made her a perfect potential client. If only I'd spent that time talking about employee engagement instead of the publishing industry! I'm sure it was just sent to test my commitment to my new resolution.

Cups of tea, for the win

I'm having a strange couple of weeks. After months of being an absolute workaholic -- working weekends, days, nights -- doing lots of travel, writing to meet my deadline, and trying to maintain an occasional social life, everything has suddenly gone quiet*.

It's something I should be used to by now -- the cliche about small business being a "feast or famine" is a cliche for a reason. When you're in business for yourself, you pretty much always say "yes" to work. The idea is then, when it gets a little quiet, you can sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labours.

Except that's not quite how it seems to happen for me. I should be just kicking back, enjoying the break, watching TV, soaking in the sunshine that Melbourne sporadically sends out way. Possibly, I should be starting a new book. But no, I mostly just worry.

And have cups of tea.

Luckily, the tea helps the worry.

The other thing that helps is catching up with friends. Last week I caught up with these two gorgeous ladies for a little lunch:

Sarah Mayberry and Joan Kilby are not only brilliant SuperRomance authors, they are also the most lovely people a newbie author could hope to befriend. They've been so generous in sharing their wisdom and experience, and helping me with the odd little things that crop up during life as an author.

I have to say that one of things about becoming an author I didn't expect was the number of friends I've made as a result. I have a wonderful gang of friends from my early days when I just started stretching my writing muscles on the internet. I also have lovely friends from the Melbourne Romance Writers Guild. I have critique partners who've become friends. And the other authors I've met in Melbourne and at RWA events...

Becoming a writer just to meet really cool people is a pretty acceptable reason, I've decided.

And now I'm off to have a cup of tea...

* Just so we're clear, by "quiet" I mean that I don't have a hundred things to do each day when I wake up, and I'm not waking up in a cold sweat at 3am remembering I left the baby on the bus**. So, you know, there's plenty to do (as my exasperated accountant will attest), it's just that it's not all desperately urgent. For once.

**It's okay. I don't actually have a baby. But I did once leave my iPod on a plane. That was pretty distressing.

#amwriting

>> Insert sound of frantically clacking keyboard. <<

I am ignoring the blog.

But I hate ignoring the blog! 

I must write. No distractions.

But the blog! It's so preeety. And people leave lovely comments! 

You're on deadline. Write.

Awwww. *whines like a toddler* 

WRITE.

Sorry. She won. I'll be back soon. 

E x

Living the life of a romance heroine...

I'm taking a short (very short) holiday this weekend which feels very much deserved, even if I'm finding it hard to believe how indulgent it is.

Senosa Resort and Spa, my home this weekend.

Want to know what I did yesterday? (Warning, if you went to work, cleaned the house, washed clothes or did any other kind of domestic duty, the answer is probably "no".)

Ate my breakfast while watching one of the many free-ranging peacocks on this resort scavenge for crumbs.

The sound of peacocks crowing adds a distinctly
regal touch to any location. 

Had my feet bathed in salts and frangipanis. Had mud and oil smeared all over my body. Was massaged for 90 minutes or so. Had a facial.

(There are no photos of this. Consider yourselves
lucky. You don't need to see it.) 

Went for a swim in a therapuetic waterfall pool.

The water was actually cold, thus my somewhat
startled posture...

 Had a cocktail by an entirely different pool.

Drinking cocktails by the pool was a goal for this weekend.
Score me: several points!! 

Had another cocktail, just to be sure I'd definitely achieved that goal.

It's important to double- and triple-check the
quality of your hotel's cocktails, I find. 

Went to dinner. Ate delicious food.

Very dark photo, but glam restaurants are like that.

Went to bed.

No photos of me in bed, but here's a rather fuzzy
photo of my quite glam bathroom. 

Today I'm heading out for a brunch of endless Moet & Chandon. Wish me luck -- all this decadence is exhausting. :)

PS -- don't forget you can get a little slice of glam for yourself by leaving a comment on the blog and going into the running to win a pair of gorgeous Riedel wine glasses.

Winter: it's not you, it's me.

I'm really sorry winter, but this thing between us just isn't working out. You like dark, grey, icy mornings and I prefer sunshine and warmth (although I'll admit we're both fond of our slippers).

Source - some beautiful pics of Melbourne by Michael.

You like having the sun set halfway through the afternoon, whereas I like long, balmy evenings where I can walk around the streets of my city with my friends, seeking out brightly colored drinks and salty tapas.

You like icy, cutting winds that blow through even the sturdiest of coats -- even those ones designed for people who climb Mount Everest and clamor around on glaciers. I like light summery breezes that carry the smell of grass clippings and sunshine and that are just cool enough to take the heat from the sun.

Source - more beautiful pics of Melbourne by Stephen Wright.

You like stews, I like salads.

You like umbrellas, I like parasols.

You like cabernet sauvignon, I like chardonnay.

We both like naps, I'll give you that. And yeah, we both like my Jimmy Choo boots. But that's it.

I'm sorry winter, this just isn't working out. I'm afraid you're going to have to leave.