I just wanted to invite everyone to visit the blog Romance The Write Way, and read our Round Robin. It's a lot of fun, and a few surprises, as well. Jane has just finished chapter 7. Go read!

Regan

http://www.romancethewriteway.blogspot.com/

Ok. For some reason blogspot is showing in Spanish, and since I can't read Spanish, I can't figure out how to change it. Not that I put a lot of time into that one. So I am responding to Avery's Schmesolutions here.

My Schmesolutions for the New Year;

Subsist on chocolate chip cookies. Only. Don't cook them, that would be too much work. Send the kids across the street to beg from the housewifely lady who lives there instead.

Read only the National Enquirer. Fiction is overrated anyway, and the news will drive you to anti-depressants.

Take up drinking. Heavy drinking. Throw in some prescription cocktails for a really good time. Collect shot glasses. Heck, go bar hopping. Sobriety is for the fishes.

Stay in bed all day. You have a headache anyway. The kids know how to use the toaster. Pick up some poptarts for dinner. Or you could feed them cold cereal and save some electricity.

Make Tony walk to and from work uphill both ways. That way his little story will be true.

Unscrew all the light bulbs in the house. Again, electricity.

Gain weight. It's so much more fun, and doesn't involve that tedious stair stepper in the corner, collecting dust.

Budget schmudget.

Open up Tony's computer and let Tara play inside it. Who wants to do homework anyway?

Regan

Her room smells of cotton candy, and I find an empty tub labeled “Santa’s Snow” under her bed. It had been intended as a stocking stuffer, along with a guardian angel charm on a fourteen karat gold chain. I find this hidden beneath her socks in her top drawer. I press my finger to the foam behind the angel charm. She would have liked the pink foam. She always noticed little niceties that other people wouldn’t observe in a hundred years, a rare trait for a five-year-old. I think about how I would have reacted over this small theft. It’s all relative now.
I throw myself down on her bed and press my face into her quilt, small pink and purple squares hand stuffed by yours truly. It smells like baby powder lotion. I imagine her corn silk hair spread across the pillow, her soft baby breaths fanning my cheek, her sweet voice whispering my name.
I begin to shake, something involuntary that has never happened to me before.
“My baby. What have I done?” If I’d only remembered it was early out day at school, and left the door unlocked. If the snow hadn’t been blinding I would have seen her standing at the end of the drive, waiting. If only I hadn’t bought her that frivolous white fur coat. If. A waterfall of tears soaks her bedspread. I give in to audible sobs. I sink my fingers into my hair and twist until the pain in my head matches the pain in my chest. I would welcome an asylum. Some place to hide.
When I wake my husband is standing over me, pushing listlessly against my shoulder, as if he has no strength. “Caroline,” he says, “It’s time to go.” His face is drawn, he’s grown old overnight. I must look much the same.
I stand to go, and he guides me by the elbow, like an authority figure who is afraid his charge will run away. “Wait!” I turn back and pick up the angel charm, shove it into the pocket of my black blazer. I inhale once more. Perhaps I can carry the scent of baby powder with me, like protective barrier against the scent of newly turned soil.
I pause outside, next to my car. Someone has pulled the dent out, but I can still see where fender and skull collided. I collapse and vomit into the crust of muddy snow that hasn’t melted yet.
My husband picks me up and carries me to his car, shoves me inside like a large piece of luggage. On the way to the mortuary he keeps his eyes averted. His cheeks are damp with tears.
He doesn’t say a word

My heroine at the moment is Tagny JuLander. I wanted her to be Dagny, but I felt as if I were stealing from Atlas Shrugged, and I didn't really want my readers associating Tagny with Dagny. Now whoever reads this is going to. Sheesh!

I used to scour the phone book and baby books for good names. Time consuming, yes?

My new method? I read the credits at the end of movies. Actors have some pretty funky and original names. Just today I found Beckyn. I write sf, and hope to one day have time for historical. I think Beckyn is suitable for both. So I add her to my list. One day she just may appear in a story, an exercise, or even a novel.

So tell me, how do you choose your character names?

Regan

Hi,

Just a little heads up to let everyone know that the ladies at Romance the Write Way are working on a round robin. Fun! So skeddadle on over to our blog and take a peek at our first installment. Hope you like. Let us know!

Thanks,
Regan

www.romancethewriteway.blogspot.com