I’ve discovered this new late night past time. I google myself. But googling oneself isn’t healthy. I mean, I used to be a Catholic school teacher–I’m sure googling onself has got to be a sin. But if googling oneself is bad (checking for media mentions, booksigning listings, and the odd missed review) googling one’s self in a blog search is even worse. I did this by accident, trying to track down a blog a blogger had asked me to read, and I discovered that well, I’m in a couple bloggers blogs.

What I learned in this late night internet search is that real people (other than my mom) have bought The Frog Prince and read it and wrote about it. And that’s…wow…weird. Nice things were said but of course our tendency is to skip over the nice things and focus on the not so nice. But even then I have to say there were many nice things about Frog Prince in blogs. Which makes me wonder, how long has the universe been blogging? And why do I have an online travel diary and not a blog? (Unless I’m doing that old hip to be square thing….).

And reading blogs reminds me of reading reviews. Everything these days is so out there. Good, bad, ugly. Reviews at Amazon, reviews on websites, reviews on blogs. Authors can pretend we don’t care about the negative but google brings everything right into your own home when you least expect it. Frog Prince was read in France? Wow! Frog Prince sucks? Oh. Wow. See what I mean? It’s a smorgesbord, a virtual buffet of opinions all brought to you in the privacy of your own home. Which isn’t necessarily always a good thing.

Let’s face it, writers–like actors–are neurotic. We’re delicate. We have these self-esteem issues, and little voices chanting bad, nasty things in our heads. Fortunately we deal with these voices by writing books and short stories and sharing our fears with the world. Which of course solves the problem. (Does it?)

Oops. Look at the time. Nearly midnight. Time to google.

I love my philosophical posts, the ones where I’m all thoughtful and analytical. The truth is, most of the time I’m trying to talk myself into being calm and philosophical. I’m trying to make myself believe or accept reality.

Like deadlines. Those are a reality and what those mean are–I have to write. You see, I like doing things when I don’t have to do them. I like writing when I’m not supposed to write. Travel before I have to leave for the airport. Book signings oh, about 6 months out. I don’t know if its laziness (I’m sure it is) or just rebelliousness (well, plenty of that, too) but I don’t like having to step up to the plate and perform. It’s….scary.

Like now. I have to finish my manuscript for Harlequin. There is no more ifs, ands, or buts. No more extensions, delays, excuses. Its just deliver. I’ve got 2 days, I’ll deliver. Which means I start off my morning editing chapter 8 and finally writing the love scenes I always put off to the last moment. I do put off the love scenes. I’m sorry. I still like writing, I like my Harlequins, but a lot of times I sit down at my computer at 6 am with bad hair, morning breath and sleep-stuck eyes and you think I’m hungry to write hot sex at 6??? Mmmm, no. I can’t even imagine hot sex at 6 in real life much less at my computer keyboard. No, I’ve got to write the love stuff when I’m in the *mood*. Unfortunately, I spend a lot of time at my computer telling my characters, ‘um, not tonight, dear. I’ve got a headache.’

So how does one get in the mood to write the steamy stuff? Oh a million authors will have a million different (better) answers, but this is what I do when I really am not excited about computer sex. First: light some candles, clich�, but flickering candlelight, even from one vanilla taper, works. Next, dim the lights. I know, hokey hokey, but you’ve got to really work at good romance love scenes–they don’t just happen. And then its music. You’re liking it now, aren’t you? Then just for sparkle, plug in some leftover orange Halloween lights.

With ambiance set, I dab some perfume on my pulse points, pour a little Grand Marnier in a snifter, breathe in the fragrant orange liqueur and think sexy seductive thoughts. In my pajamas. Because after all it’s only 8 o’clock. In the morning. On a Wednesday.

Now excuse me while I locate my bottle of Obsession and those twinkly Halloween lights because honey, we’re getting busy.

Being on a booktour has taught me that I’m a writer, not an author. I’ve learned these past few weeks that I don’t actually like talking about my book, but rather the writing process or books in general. I’m crazy about books, fascinated by creativity, curious about motivation and conflict and the drive to put human experience down on paper (or in music or art). I love talking to readers in bookstores and finding out who they read, which genre they enjoy best, which authors they follow. I love talking to fellow writers, published and unpublished, love encouraging the writing process and exhorting them to stick in there, keep writing and learning, and focusing on craft. Too many writers put the cart before the horse and bone up on the business way before they’re ready to submit (I know. I did this for years). Now I tell writers to write. Get the story in shape, get the craft down, and strive to write with courage and truth, conviction and power and don’t hold back. Be brave. Be daring. Be bold. Writers must jump off that creative cliff each and every day–face one’s fear and just go for it. Go for broke.

This is why I write, this is why I speak to writers, and this is what even non-writers need to know. The good life is the life lived. It’s not publication that matters as much as the journey there. Live richly, live with heart and hope, and no matter what happens at the end of the story, the story will be rewarding.

This is also why I’m a writer, not an author, because being an author is all about the finished book, the cover, the blurb, the copy, the sales, the reviews, the publicity and promo. I want my books to do well, but once a manuscript is finished and the editor has put it to bed, its a story told and the writer in me has to take a backseat to the business of selling, to trends and co-op advertising, to bookstore placement and industry favorites. I can’t control any of the business side–I can barely control my response to the business side–so instead I focus on the next story, the next journey, the adventure whatever it may be.

I have no problem with those who love being authors and enjoy the limelight and the appearances and the life lived in the public eye. But I find it odd and self-conscious, talking about my books, talking about the quality of my own writing and why people should read me. Truthfully, I don’t know if people should read me. I just know that people should live. And live hard.

Someone asked me recently if I enjoy book tours. I was between trips and feeling rather rested and said, ‘Sure.’ Okay, it’s a few days later and I’m facing another night in another hotel and I’d like to find that person and give her a different answer.

Booktours aren’t fun. At least, they’re not fun as in warm, fuzzy, feel good fun. They’re fun in the way moving is fun. You know, pack everything up into little boxes, squeezing small items into odd spaces, wrapping the fragile items hoping nothing will break. But packing is rewarding because something’s happening. You’re moving. You’re heading to someplace new. Hopefully better.

Hopefully.

In some ways I really like being on the road. I love the possibilities, that sense of adventure, you know, striking out as if I were a pioneer heading West, part of the frontier movement. But as we know, many pioneers didn’t live to see California or Oregon. Lots of pioneers perished on the road–disease, starvation, childbirth, floods, deserts, never mind hostile Native Americans. Fortunately I don’t have to deal with starvation, childbirth, deserts, floods or hostile natives, but there is some uncertainty, and loneliness, and the nagging fear that no one will show up at your next event, or worse, that the week spent on the road will do absolutely nothing to increase sales.

Otherwise, book tours are exciting. Lots of driving around, lots of yahoo maps, lots of diet cokes and then frantic searches for bathrooms.

Bottom line regarding book tours? I have to do them. Not because Warner said so, but because I want to meet booksellers and shake hands and talk to readers and get a feel for what’s selling, what readers are loving and what women want from their fiction.

Pass me my bonnet. I’m climbing back in the wagon. See you in Portland.

It’s all about buzz. A book’s success depends on buzz…and momentum. I think we readers know this, and writers have to know it, but how do you get ‘buzz’ for a book? Where does the buzz come from? Sure, you can place ads, post on a multitude of loops and groups, get yourself a fancy website, but none of that guarantees buzz, or sales, which is everything.

I’ve spent a lot of time in bookstores lately and I’m always browsing through the New in Fiction, or New and Notable tables. I tend to pick up books that look interesting, or ones that ring a bell.

There are times when I wonder if anyone in Dayton, Ohio or Wilmington, North Carolina has heard of The Frog Prince yet. I find myself wondering if the book will sell even if I can’t make it everywhere.

Being on a booktour is interesting as you somehow think you’re making a difference in sales…but am I really? Would The Frog Prince sell just as well without me jumping on and off planes, in and out of rental cars, schlepping my boxes of bookmarks and pens and autographed by author stickers around? Maybe. Maybe if enough readers find it, like it, recommend it to others. Maybe. But of course I’m Jane Porter and that means I’m a bit manic about details so I can’t just leave anything to chance. I come from a background in marketing and sales and must support the release of the book with as much visibility as I can manage. But I don’t write as much as I need to on the road. It’s hard to be public Jane and creative Jane at the same time and my writing suffers. I don’t think booktours are for the faint of heart, but they’re also interesting, as they’re puzzles. How to get people in the store? How to get press coverage? How to actually get books into peoples’ hands? Some events are wildly successful–I’ve had those. Some events are depressingly quiet. I’ve had those, too. So all one can do is get out there and try. And maybe that’s where the fun is for me…in the trying.

Aloha! Hawaii is hot, hot, hot and beautiful. I’ve been coming to Hawaii for a year now and yep, if you haven’t guessed it by now, my next book for Warner, titled FLIRTING WITH FORTY is set in Hawaii and Seattle. I love Hawaii for all the obvious reasons—the intense tropical colors, the sound of waves crashing and warm wind rustling palms fronds, the dazzling sun and cool water–and then the not so obvious….I’m learning to surf! But I’m not learning on my own, my boys are taking lessons with me and I’ve discovered surfing is a great metaphor for life: Never turn your back on the ocean; paddle through the channel, and waves come in sets. Essentially–be smart about the dangers in life, don’t make things harder than they have to be, life is cyclical, and take advantage of mometum when its on your side. And with that said, I’ve kids anxious to hit the beach and I’m off. Aloha and Mahalo!

The California booktour is behind me and I’m back in Bellevue for one night, just long enough to do some laundry, answer email, pay a few bills, and repack before kids and I head to Hawaii in the morning. I’ll be signing books at two different Borders this weekend as well as writing and getting some play time with my boys.

Things I’ve learned about a booktour so far? You need some serious numbers to make a book signing work and serious numbers come from reader groups, book clubs, friends of friends and more. The best events are ones where I get to meet with readers or writers before or after signings. I love having a chance to sit, put my feet up and just talk. So if I’m heading to a city near you–email me and let’s get some coffee!