For two months I’ve enjoyed staying on Sanibel Island, one of Florida’s most beautiful barrier islands.  There are so many things to love about this special place, not the least of which is the attention to wildlife and it’s preservation. 

In December my husband came home from an Audubon Society bird walk and told me about the island’s resident crocodile.  She was an anomaly, the only one of her kind this far north, and beloved by all the island’s naturalists.  She had been here for years.  At one time the locals captured and transported her south, back into crocodile habitat, where it was felt she would be safer and happier.

She had other ideas.

Back she came, and this time, clearly outwitted by a beast with a walnut-sized brain, the island not only allowed her to stay, but made certain she was respected and enjoyed by everyone lucky enough to glimpse her.  Since she liked to sun herself at a special spot at J. N. Ding Darling Nature Refuge, a special fence was built so that when she appeared (all 11 feet of her) visitors would respect her privacy.   That’s where my husband saw her and took this photo.

The island croc wanted badly to hatch more island crocs, but without a male in residence, this was not to be.  Instead she sometimes played foster mother in alligator nests, and was known to live under a home on Wild Lime Drive, where the owners enjoyed and respected her company.  It’s said that when the local paper boy threw a newspaper too close to her nest one day, she left, removed it, and carried it out to the driveway where it belonged.  The paper had teeth marks when the resident human collected it.

The recent cold wave to hit the eastern half of the U.S. was not kind to Sanibel’s wildlife.  On the morning after the coldest night, I was saddened to see beaches littered with fish, a macabre aquarium of species.  Unfortunately the crocodile, a senior citizen, was also unable to cope with the cold.

Sanibel will hold a memorial service for the island croc next week.  At the end, they plan to serve gatorade.  And that says everything about Sanibel Island you ever need to know.

I love words.  No surprise there, right?  I spend hours each day glueing them together, selecting the perfect choices, moving and deleting and replacing.  New words fascinate me. I love being the first kid on the block to use one, but much more often a word sneaks up and surprises me.  In fact a word can be in usage, appearing in other novelists’ books, on tongues everywhere, but it’s still new to me.  Sometimes I catch on so late that using a “new” word automatically dates my character. 

I hate it when that happens.

I’m particularly fond of words that sing their identity the moment we hear them.

How, for instance, did we live without “ka-ching?”  Theoretically, ka-ching is the sound of a cash register, but for me, the meaning has expanded beyond that.  In my personal life, “ka-ching” is that moment when an answer falls into place.  A “ka-ching” moment precedes most important decisions.  How did I live without it?  How did I figure out what to do?

And “webinar?”  Does that one take an explanation?  I attended a webinar from my publisher on the use of online promotion.  The workshop was great, “webinar” was brilliant. Now I feel the need to use the word in a novel.  I might need an entirely new plot line in my next book, and I can absolutely guarantee it will be humorous.  Doesn’t “webinar” make you smile?

Of course, thanks to JK Rowling, we have wonderful new words.  Who among us hasn’t met a “Muggle” or two?  How about a “Voldemort?”  I hope you don’t know anyone you can so label, particularly in your own family.  Then we have “dementors.”  I swear I’ve seen them drifting above my house a time or two.  That, by the way is a good moment to be a Muggle.  Just occasionally, not noticing what’s going on around you, is a good thing.

The New Oxford American Dictionary declared “unfriend” the Word of the Year for 2009, claiming it has both “currency and longevity.”  Of course once you’re “unfriended” your longevity as a friend has no currency whatsoever. You are, to quote a great slang word, “toast.”

Frankly, I’ve always liked toast.  But I know for a fact, I never want to “be” toast.  Nor “unfriended.”  But I’ll take “ka-ching” any way I can get it.  How about you? 

Don’t forget to comment on my blog about author Mary Alice Monroe to enter a drawing to win her novel The Four Seasons.

Even if you’re a smoker, you have to love this one.

This month in addition to being a novelist, I’ve had the pleasure of twice being a novelist’s fan.  And it has been a pleasure indeed.

I reported encountering the delightful Randy Wayne White earlier in January at the Sanibel Doc Ford’s, the upscale sports bar named after the sleuth in his mystery novels. Today I had the pleasure of attending a reading and signing at the Sanibel Island Bookshop for novelist and friend Mary Alice Monroe.

I’ll confess that I’m not always excited to meet the authors whose books I adore, in fact often, I avoid it.  This may sound odd, but truthfully, I’ve met a few whose books I could never pick up again with the same unadulterated pleasure.  Not because I despised the author on sight, but because I couldn’t reconcile the novels and the person.  The two seemed so different, that from the moment of our meeting, the author intruded, and I could never again lose myself in the novels.

Mary Alice Monroe is definitely not one of those people.  From the first time I met her I realized Mary Alice warm as warm-hearted and perceptive as her stories.  We met at a time when we were writing for the same two publishers, and we had the opportunity to share our publishing tales and feelings.  I felt richer for it.  I’ve followed her career with delight as she found her niche and began to write sensitive portrayals of life in the South Carolina Low Country, and to focus on environmental issues. 

Today I arrived at the book store just as she was reading a passage from one of her novels, Swimming Lessons.  The selection was emotional and thoughtful, and there I was, trying not to cry.  And not just because I was about to greet an old friend, either.

Are you a fan of Mary Alice’s, too?  Or would you like to become one?  Of course, I had Mary Alice sign Swimming Lessons for me, but I had her autograph another one of her novels, The Four Seasons for one of my lucky and loyal blog followers. 

For fun, if you comment on this post by the end of February, I’ll enter your name in a drawing for The Four Seasons during the first week of March.  Just tell us about a time when you met a writer or another public figure.  Or just tell us about the person you’d most like to meet.  Any “non-spam” and original post will count.  Comment as many times as you like, but only one comment per person will be entered.  So enjoy and share.

Meantime, want some good news?  You don’t have to wait to find out if you win.  Mary Alice’s books are available at a bookstore near you.  Read them and enjoy.

Don’t let anybody fool you.  There IS only one way to write a novel.  Your way. 

Attend any writer’s conference, sit through workshops, and you may come away with the idea that everything you’re doing is wrong.  You might as well quit before anybody sees that beloved manuscript you’ve so faithfully and enthusiastically nurtured.  You haven’t followed the rules.  It can’t be as good as you think.

Truth is, ask any two successful novelists how they put their novels together, whether they start with characters or plot, whether they outline or not, whether they believe an editor should see a polished manuscript or a first draft, and you might get two completely different answers.  Truth is?  There is no truth.  There’s only what works for the individual writing the book.

Beginning today, I’ll be devoting one blog each month to writing tips.  MY writing tips.  You’ll find them listed under The Write Way, in the categories listing to the right. These are the tips that work for me, or for my friends.  They may not work for you, although I certainly hope they will.  I don’t have time to answer writing queries individually, but if you send me questions, I’ll try to blog on the ones that might be helpful to the largest number of would-be writers.  Again, these are my answers, which you can discard at will if they don’t work for you. 

So kick back and enjoy.  Even if you’ve never considered writing a novel, haven’t you always wondered how it’s done?  Hopefully each month The Write Way will answer some of those questions.

Right now I’m working on the final edits of the fifth mystery in my Ministry is Murder series for Berkley Prime Crime.  Writing a series is substantially different from writing a single title.  In addition to all the usual editing problems, I must be certain I haven’t changed significant facts about the lives of my characters.  Spelling of names.  Physical characteristics.  Setting details.  And voice.  Since I write general fiction, too, every time I flip back into the head of Aggie Sloan-Wilcox, my minister’s wife sleuth, I have to find her voice again, and the voice has to be strong, clear and consistent.

I’m a compulsive editor.  While many of my writer friends don’t go back and edit as they write, preferring to do it in one fell swoop at the end, I must edit a sentence until it is, at least, almost right–by my own definition.  Only then do I feel good about moving forward.  At the end of a section?  I return and make certain the section feels right.  At the end of a chapter?  Same thing.  It’s not uncommon for me to dive back into a chapter I completed weeks before.  Sometimes to change a detail that no longer works.  Sometimes, usually in my mysteries, to rewrite or even plant a clue.  When I finish a novel, I want to know it’s “almost” there.

But what’s almost there?  Well, all the facts are correct.  The voice is at least consistent, at best accurate.  There’s enough humor and enough drama.  No section drags unbearably.  My characters have been true to themselves.  I didn’t pull my ending out of the hat without warning.  I could go on.  I won’t.  There are so many elements to look for.  How do I find them?

I finish with two final edits.  The first takes me as long as it will take you to read the completed novel.  I make myself comfortable, and for a day or two, or even three, I read my novel from start to finish.  I don’t make corrections, but I do make notes.  I’m looking for pacing problems, for inaccuracies, for questions that aren’t answered, for boring sections where nothing important happens, and again, for characterization inconsistencies. 

Once I’ve finished, I make all needed changes.  

Then I do the final read through.  Out loud.  Word by word.  Slowly.

Is it fun?  You tell me.  Is it mandatory?  Absolutely.  The first time I tried this, about a million books ago, I realized how many errors were still on the pages.  After all that editing.  After all that agonizing.  Errors. Words misused or overused.  Facts that had changed.  Sentences that didn’t make sense.  Clunky dialogue.  The list goes on.  My ear will pick up what my eye did not.  I can’t speed read through my book.  I’m stuck with each and every phrase.

What’s the payoff for this kind of painstaking review of your novel?  Editors love you.  Their job is so much easier.  And the payoff for you personally?  The very best book you’re capable of turning in.  There will be changes, of course.  Editors will still find passages that need clarification, and sentences that need to be rewritten.  But even if the book isn’t exactly what they’re looking for, they will know you’re a pro, and the next time you send them a manuscript, they will remember.

Sometimes it’s easy to tell when a day is going to be special.  This past week our youngest son and his wife came to visit us in Sanibel, at least partly to get away from the snow at home in Ohio, and partly to see us.  We will never ask for percentages.

Of course the temperatures dropped precipitously just before they arrived.  I had told them to bring shorts along with coats.  I’m delighted I added coats.  They arrived to rain and near freezing temperatures.  Our planned patio lunch didn’t materialize.  We came home and stayed inside, playing Euchre and Scrabble and catching up.  We had a lovely time anyway.

Their last full day with us dawned sunny and warm.  I slapped “special” on my calendar.  There was so much to show them and so little time.  In the end we settled on J.N. Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge not far from our house.  The refuge provides habitat for more than 220 species of birds.  Nearly 3,000 acres of land are designated by Congress as a wilderness area, all thanks to Jay Norwood “Ding” Darling who back in the 1940s worked to protect the land from developers and, with the help of Harry Truman, did just that.

There’s something remarkably therapeutic about seeing wildlife in its natural habitat.  We took our time, making multiple stops along the way.  A cool breeze, warm sun, feathered and scaly creatures to amuse us, and a comfortable house to go back to.  It doesn’t get better.

Except that it did later that evening.  We had the pleasure of enjoying yet another of Sanibel’s ”wildlife” attractions after dinner at Doc Ford’s Rum Bar and Grill.  Thanks to a sister-in-law who raved about the Sanibel based Doc Ford novels of author Randy Wayne White, I’ve enjoyed reading his mystery series for several years, as has my husband.  To hook my son and daughter-in-law, after dinner we bought the first novel, Sanibel Flats, for one of them to read on their flight home.  Because yes, Doc Ford’s is Randy Wayne White’s own fabulous restaurant, and the reception area has all the novels along with some great souvenirs–including Tomlinson’s sarong.  As I paid, the hostess suggested I take my copy over to the bar and have Randy sign it himself. 

What a pleasure.  There he was, in his natural habitat, too.  This is a very nice guy, who greeted all of us like old friends.  And being on the other side of the autographing table?  Loved it.  Authors have favorite authors, too, and sometimes we simply get to be fans.

So as my title asks, which of these things is not like the other?  Sorry, it was a trick question.  These were all pieces of a lovely Sanibel, FL day. 

By the way, Randy’s been remarkably successful with his two Doc Ford restaurants–try the lime panko-crusted fish sandwich–and that set me thinking.  Doesn’t Aggie Sloan-Wilcox need her own restaurant, too?  I’m thinking vegetarian fare, perhaps right in the heart of Ohio’s Amish country.

Nah. . .  

I’m delighted to announce three winners of my impromptu blog giveaways.  First, in the random drawing from commenters on the blog “My Special Key to Happiness”  congratulations to Sylvia from Illinois, and Diana from Kansas, for winning autographed copies of Happiness Key and pewter “key to happiness” pewter keychains.  And for my more recent giveaway, for comments on “Happiness Thoughts at the End of the Year” congratulations to Heather who won an autographed copy of Happiness Key.

Thanks, too, to everyone else who took the time to read the blogs and to comment.  I’m always interested in what you have to say, and everyone’s comments were particularly touching and meaningful on these subjects.

Stay warm.  Even here in sunny Florida, we’re shivering, so I’m awarding everyone a glimpse of another gorgeous sunrise.  Yes, indeed, it’s still coming up.  Don’t despair.

Today is your last opportunity to go to my blog “Happiness Thoughts at the End of the Year” and tell us about your best moments of 2009.  Using random.org to choose our winner, one commenter will receive an autographed copy of Happiness Key.  So tally up your triumphs, share them, and enter to win. 

Sometimes all you have to do is look around.  Last night I did, and see what I found? 2010 in shells laid down by an invisible hand.  Not only that, but the light was exactly right for a photo, and my husband had his camera.  With this kind of divine prodding, how could I NOT think about what 2010 will mean to me and you?

For most people, a new year means resolutions. This year, before the stroke of midnight on the 31st, I decided against resolutions once again.  I’ve learned if I tell myself I can’t do something, I want to do it even more.  Too many “I will not” statements in my head, and I know everything will go straight downhill.  So why set myself up?  I don’t want to fail.  I may even give up “failing” for Lent when it comes around this year–or maybe I’ll give up abstaining for Lent, since that’s a discipline that goes downhill pretty fast, as well. 

The biggest problem with resolutions is that they often have the word “not” in them.  I will not eat dessert after dinner.  I will not forget to exercise.  I will not let myself get swamped at work.  This year I’ve decided on a different approach. It’s not a resolution.  And it’s not a negative.  It’s a Happiness List.

Since I titled my summer book Happiness Key, I’ve loudly beat the drum about happiness here on Southern Exposure   After all, I was writing about the key to happiness (you got that, right?)  Of course, I was thinking about happiness, reading about happiness, talking to anyone who would listen about happiness.  

All that investigation had to result in something, and here’s what I’ve taken away.  My insight isn’t profound or anything you don’t already know.  It’s simple enough.  The universe doesn’t make us happy.  We do that ourselves.  If we wait for lightning to strike, it might, in a cataclysmic burst of white light, send us somewhere we’re not quite ready to go.

No, in order to be happy, we have to know what makes us happy and be willing to reach for it.  Unfortunately this isn’t something we’re taught.  In fact many of us have been taught that reaching for happiness is selfish, even dangerous.  If we’re happy, we aren’t thinking of others. We should put ourselves last. We should fall into bed every night with a long list of the day’s failures and all the “shoulds” we have to accomplish tomorrow.  (In Gestalt therapy, this is known as “shoulding” all over yourself.)

This year I’ve decided to fall into bed with thoughts about what made me happy that day, and what I’ll do tomorrow to be happy again.  I’m calling this my Happiness List.

Is this selfish?  Thoughtless?  Sacreligious?  Subversive?  Here’s the good news.  Being with people I love makes me happy.  Doing things for them?  Happy.  Doing whatever I can for the world in general?  Happy.  Breathing fresh air, appreciating the gifts I’ve been given, sitting quietly and just letting the world flow around and through me?  Happy.  Nothing dangerous or selfish there. Just a whole lot of happiness, which in our culture is sadly underrated.   

Over the next days, I’m going to make a 2010 Happiness List. I’m not going to resolve to do anything on it, or even to think about it too much.  I mean, if I’m not bright enough to follow through, will constantly checking a list change anything?  But I am going to put my ideas on paper, and I am going to give myself permission to be happy.  I have faith both will make a difference.

How about you?  What’s on your list?  Want to be happy with me in 2010?  

There are always at least two ways to look at everything.  Here’s the same beach this morning at sunrise.  Moon at one end and sun rising at the other.  I just had to turn my head to see them both.  I’m hoping to remember this lesson.  I just need to look the other way when I think there’s only one side to anything.  Maybe that’s my New Year’s resolution?

Don’t forget to comment on my last post for a chance to win an autographed copy of Happiness Key. Just tell us what went right in 2009 and what you’re proud of.