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Dear Friends,

In the writing life, everything seems to happen at once. SULLIVAN’S LAW came out in paperback last month, and SULLIVAN’S JUSTICE just hit the stores. Last week, I finished a new novel. Now I’m in what I refer to as the “honeymoon period”. I’m excited that the book is finally finished, certain it is good, but I have to wait until my editor reads it and sends it back to me for the rewrite.

During this lull before the storm, so to speak, I try not to think about the work still left to be done before the book makes its way to the printer. The first editorial go-around is more or less conceptual. It can amount to a major overhaul, though, as writers don’t always see eye to eye with editors. Since I’ve now written eleven novels, I don’t get as upset as I did in the past. I listen to the voice of experience, generally not just one editor, but sometimes everyone in the publishing house. This is when a writer has to change perspectives and think the way a reader might, which is what a really good editor does best. After we’ve nailed down the plot, and refined the characters, the book goes through another transformation. Months later, we go through an editing stage known as the polish, basically what they refer to as line editing, or looking for things like typos or other errors. Then we go to page proofs, and eventually arrive at a finished product that we hope readers and bookstore buyers will enjoy.

On the personal front, I had another unexpected jolt. I found out I have heart disease. I spent several weeks in the hospital, many of them in intensive care. I’m doing fine now, and have never felt better. My back problems are cured and since the first draft of my next book has been turned in, I’m able to exercise and catch up on all the things I’ve neglected. Unlike my back problems, this wasn’t as painful, but it was far more serious. It forced me to take a long look at what was important in life. I’ll write until I die, as writing is my passion. But I understand now that I have to take better care of myself, and basically take time to smell the roses.

The other day, I bought this adorable bicycle. They call it a “fashion bike”, but it looks like something a little girl would ride, complete with a basket, a bell, and flower pedals. I had a ball the other day riding up and down my street and delivering copies of SULLIVAN’S JUSTICE to my neighbors. My philosophy is to always remain a child. Children have all the fun, and everyone loves them. They can even make mistakes and get away with it. I took my Chihuahua, Chico, for a ride in the basket, but he wasn’t certain he liked it. My other precious dog, Gracie, just had surgery on her leg and is recuperating. She’s an Italian Greyhound and rules the roost around here, even dominating her so-called masters like a miniature queen. My fish are doing well, but they’re getting so fat and old, that we’re not certain how much longer they will live in my tank. They may have to move to a local aquarium.

I’m an avid animal lover, and only wish I had more room for pets. In my old house in upstate New York, I had a menagerie: Dogs, cats, rabbits, all kinds of birds. The bears, deer, squirrels, snakes, bats, and other critters were free and came with the territory, a national historical park over a hundred years old. I was going through a divorce then and alone in this big, spooky house, so the pets became my best friends. I had converted a large room into a home screening room, using cast off seats from a real theater. Since I had no one to watch movies with, I would let all the birds out of their cages and they would perch on the back of seats. You had to see this to appreciate it, but trust me, it was pretty funny. Sometimes I leave the TV on, and go into my office to write. The birds didn’t seem to care for TV evangelists and would squawk like mad until I changed the station. Animal Planet and Discovery Channel were more to their liking.

I had to give up my horses after my accident. So many of them hurt me, that horses and I are no longer friends. I still think they’re beautiful animals, but I have no desire to ride them, which I think was the purpose of them throwing me. After my back problems, I can sympathize with what a horse must go through. Now I just have a small yard and have to be happy with smaller animals. I don’t like calling them pets, as I sometimes feel I’m their pet.

Those of you who read my last newsletter have already had a taste of my stories about my husband, Dan. Of course, I have new and better ones. He bought a new Corvette, and became completely obsessed with it. I’ve known since I married him that he was a neat freak. His drawers and closet are almost frightening. Everything is arranged and folded precisely. Dan gave my son permission to borrow a tie not long ago, and we went into his drawer to find it. I saw this yellowish tissue paper, perfectly folded, and inside was a single red tie. My son, Blake, and I broke out laughing. I’d never seen an antique piece of tissue paper. Dan told me the tie came in that tissue when he purchased it thirty years ago.