HE WROTE: Lambs to the slaughter

I'm posting this hoping none of the attendees for my retreat tomorrow are reading it tonight or else they might not show up. The title is scary enough. I told Jenny, well e-mailed her, we never talk on the phone, that there would be tears tomorrow and she said for me to be nice.

Sigh.
Hannibal Lecter: Tell me, Clarice - have the lambs stopped screaming?

Nah, I'm not that mean. I tend to be very blunt in my critiques to give bang for the buck. I'm going to share some observations, at the risk of being lynched tomorrow, about the manuscripts I've read.

But first.
I missed the angry blog. Damn. Like we said before, don't try this at home or without adult supervision. And I did say "I am wrong" in front of a lot of people and it was caught on camera during one of our presentations.

Also, everyone needs to cut Jenny some slack. We're creative partners and that's it. Which is more than enough to cause more problems than you could imagine. The nice woman introducing us for one talk did our bios and then said: "And how did Jenny and Bob meet? Sex. They--" and I cut her off there, politely and she was very sweet, but it's like most people can't grasp we have this great creative thing without the YEXXY stuff. Jenny is tired of telling people 'no, that's not the way it is' and I'm tired of her having to say it. She's a freaking great writer who has taught me more than I could imagine and also been a solid friend through some really hard times. She also was the ONLY one who saw the potential of She Wrote, He Wrote and putting both our names on the cover while everyone, including me, argued otherwise. So Bob is going to get edgy about this if it comes up, and when Bob starts referring to himself in third person, it's time for people to be afraid of Bob. Redrum. Redrum.

Where was I?

My retreat is at the Marriott Beach and Golf Resort on Hilton Head and I buy two Krispy Kreme donuts and a large cup of coffee there for breakfast every day I teach. I have received some aghast looks from attendees because of this. I know not why. Bob likes the ones with jelly in them.

"We won." I was in the back when Jenny threw that one out and I started looking for the door because although born in NYC and raised there, I have spent considerable time in the South and people down here are a tad touchy about that whole episode.

It wasn't quite as bad, though, as when we presented at Reno and Jenny told the three hundred women attending our talk that ole JT Wilder, my hero, never told Lucy, her heroine, he loved her in the entire 116,000 words of DON'T LOOK DOWN, our Romantic Adventure, coming out April 4. hint, hint.
So I wrote Wilder saying it after three hundred women hissed at me. Standing on one skid of a Huey while Lucy is on the other as they fly in toward the climactic scene. He yells it across the cargo bay. While LaFavre, his best buddy the pilot, banters and cracks jokes about impending death.
Sigh.
For some reason, Jenny didn't think that was appropriate.
So Wilder does say it, but you're going to have to read the book to find out when and where. Nananana. But it does involved a sniper rifle and an MP-5 submachinegun which is cool. And right after Wilder laments not having brought his night vision goggles. It's a guy thing.

So. Writing.
I've never read a category romance. But it was very eye-opening to read these manuscripts. They talked about heart-pounding like guys talk about, well, we won't go there.

You know, one time at my retreat, the attendees all bought wine and beer like the second day and proceeded to drink themselves silly during an afternoon session. Bob knows not why.

Where was I?
Oh, heart-pounding.
And eyes. Lots of eye contact. Can women really tell every single thing about a guy from just looking in his eyes? What does Clarice see when she looks in into ole Hannibal's eyes? And how many of you liked the ending of HANNIBAL? Hehe. Guess Clarice liked what she saw in his eyes.

I digress. And am not sure why I'm quoting Hannibal Lecter. This could be bad.

Bob's mind is wandering. This is not good.

Bob needs to get back to work.

Redrum.