Lipstick & Danger

My Blog

What Happened?

What happened to my Hemingway Room?  Actually it is my living room where I keep my treasured piano, my collection of various items gathered on journeys to Asia, Europe, Africa and Australia.  My Native American items rest against my autographed picture of John Glenn and Scott Carpenter’s book (which he also signed). A picture of sunset on the Okavango River in Botswana sits among the carved pieces I lugged home in a carry-on bag.  Besides large pictures of sailboats and maps hanging beautifully on the walls, I can gaze at my favorite painting over the fireplace titled “Leaving Out”.  The pale tan furniture where faux leopard pillows rest has always offered a quiet place to visit with friends and family.

Then I turned it into my writing room.  Oh it offered the character and romantic atmosphere I needed to write a thriller, especially in the winter when ice tapped at the windows and a fire blazed in my lovely fireplace.  A mug of Gano coffee sitting on my small French desk while I rapped at the keys, spilling words upon words onto the pages before me, added to the charm and atmosphere I’d created for myself, the writer.  Nothing really changed during that time.  Everything remained neat, wildly romantic, and a constant source of conversation when I received a visitor.  The problem began when on August 5, 2011 I completed my first manuscript.  Gradually the room turned into a monster I refused to acknowledge until that day when my little dog stopped following me to my desk.

Where once smooth, clear surfaces existed now harbored pencils, writing books, notes and flash drives.  Half empty notebooks holding Chapters 1-10 or 20-30 made piles of changes or mistakes I plan to fix so Vince Flynn or James (I really hope to be able to call him Jim someday) Rollins will give me a nod of approval when we meet at Thrilllerfest in New York City.  (My mom always said I was such a dreamer so I’m really hoping she isn’t reading this part.)  Pictures of Sikorsky Helicopters and cups of cold coffee, sat atop reinforcement labels I used on cockeyed holes punched into my pages.  The piano bench, now pulled out at a crooked angle held the new Writer’s Market book I bought last week.  Of course it’s still in the plastic Barnes & Noble bag because I’ve been too busy to take it out and make a plan.  I can’t even see the top of my desk.  Is this the way of the writer?

Fortunately I finished the first of many “read throughs” yesterday!  After entering some of the changes today I’m going to turn this place back into the inspirational, zen, romantic, source of learning place it used to be before I started the book.  Okay.  Maybe it will never be the same because I’ve already started two other projects and I’m doing some intensive research.  Miracles do happen though.  Right?

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