Dear Kelly,

Do you remember the phrase "Rock on?" Is that phrase seriously dated? Probably. I heard my son's very hip girlfriend say "Peace out" recently, which I found intriguing but not relevant to my point. But "Rock on," that pretty much sums up my personal philosophy about a career in writing and publishing. It's a rough road, full of pot holes and sometimes we crash, but to be successful we must…

Rock on.

First we do the whole bleeding on the page thing. Being writers that live in imaginary worlds, we don't usually use 'real' blood. Actors are the same, you don't use real blood either, right Kelly? So you probably get this. Here's an example of my writing day: Drag my growing backside out of bed at 5:45a.m. Hit the gym by 7ish on a good day. Back home and ready to write around 9a.m. Open the file of the book I'm working on and damn it, that difficult scene, the one that is NOT working, didn't fix itself over night. Stomp off (think metaphorically people) to check my email. Okay, pouting done, back to my scene. Between arguing with uncooperative characters, the compulsion to check my email every twenty minutes, coffee and diet coke refills, food, phone calls and the kids' sudden desire for chats, it's suddenly 3:00 PM. I have an hour left to write and wham—the scene starts working. I write ten or fifteen pages in two hours, spending the last hour snarling at anyone who is dumb enough to think I really stop at 4p.m. The next day—start over again.

Rock on.

Next come the critiques. I ask a couple people for a read through. Then I agonize for days, sometime weeks waiting for their comments. "Agonize" is an interesting word that stands for; knotted stomach, waking up at 2 am in a cold sweat, too much coffee, literally trying to hold back screams of "Have you read it yet?" or "You hate it, don't you?" when I see, talk to, or email these wonderful people helping me. "Agonize" sums up the days of my brain picking at the entire plot like a swollen scab. It's painful. Why would anyone put themselves through this?

Rock on.

The critiques come in from smart, talented authors who are generous enough to help me. They will make twenty nice comments and point out two problems. My eyes zero in on the problems and my brain flashes the FAILURE sign in big green neon letters until I have a headache. I walk away, determined not to let it get me. I stagger around muttering, "I can fix this. I can! I have to. My career is over." Then I down some Tylenol, make coffee and tackle the problems, once again snarling at anyone who interrupts. Strangely enough, by the time I'm finished, I am GRATEFUL to my critique-friends.

Rock on.

Time to send it to my editor and wait for the phone call. It's like waiting for a call from the gate keeper to heaven. My entire career is in that single person's hands (not true, but it feels like it). This period can take days, weeks or months. Coping strategies are essential. Frankly, the world would be a seriously ugly place without chocolate :-) Then the call comes. I have had all the variations—love it don't change a thing; love it, needs one or two fixes; umm you can fix this or you can start over (it was just a proposal but it still felt like a truck had hit me, then a bus, then a train…). On the last one, I tossed it and wrote a new story idea for my editor. She bought it.

Rock on.

Now I'm tackling a huge idea, trying to wrestle it into a proposal while writing the first of two contracted books, I'm doing this to grow my career, and because these two characters have come to life in my heart and soul. I'm worried I've taken on two much, worried I'll let down the people who believe in me, and just as important—worried I'll let down my readers, but you know my philosophy…

Rock on.

And this is what I tell the writers working so hard trying to cross over from unpublished to published. It's not an easy road, friends. Everyone pays the price in some manner. In may LOOK easy on the outside, but I promise you, every successful person has hit the rough patches. But what makes them successful?

They rock on.

So, Kelly, what's your personal philosophy?

Back to my son's girlfriend and her "Peace out" comment. From the context of our conversation, I took that to mean she's simply not going to deal with mean, nasty people. Are we raising a smarter generation of women or what?

Rock on,

Jennifer
http://jenniferapodaca.com/

Dear Kelly,

Do you happen to know the Pope? The other night I was in the gym working out (and I STILL don't have a cute and tiny figure like you!) and there was a segment on the news about the Pope. It seems that the Pope disapproves of the latest Harry Potter book. I know that because I saw it over and over for days after the Pope made his comments.

Frankly, I think someone might want to let the Pope know that he's going about this the wrong way since his comments actually promoted the book.

But it got me thinking, how can I get the Pope to take notice of my books? Why I'll ask Kelly! She can get the Pope to notice my books. So what about it, Kelly? Really my books are the type to annoy the Pope.

For instance, Samantha Shaw's grandfather is a magician; I'd say that's pretty close to a wizard, right? And Grandpa also does a little breaking and entering on the Internet, surely the Pope wouldn't approve of that? Grandpa would argue that he only does "research" to help solve murders, but I'm not so sure the law, or the Pope, would buy that excuse.

I'm also thinking the Pope might frown on Sam's career—she owns a dating service. What is the Pope's position on dating services? Of course, I'm positive he'd never use a dating service himself!

Then there's murder. It happens in every book. I'm pretty sure the Pope frowns on murder.

Oh and the SEX. Sam has a very hot relationship with her boyfriend, Gabe. Lots of sexual tension, humor and did I mention SEX?

So Kelly, what do you think? Can you run this by the Pope and see if he'd like to publicly comment on my books? I can really use the publicity!

I sure hope I didn't hurt your feelings, Kelly. I am convinced that Reading with Ripa filled a void for women. Women buy the most books, and yet the New York Times reviews books directed at men (again, someone needs to tell the marketing department that little detail), and treat books that women love as inferior. But you treated us as valuable people who enjoy fun books! We miss that, Kelly! But until you bring Reading with Ripa back, we women will have to find other ways to discover terrific books.

So do you know the Pope?

Sincerely,
Jennifer
http://jenniferapodaca.com/

Guest Stalker

Susan McBride

Dear Kelly:

I have to confess that the reason I’m writing has less to do with books than with something a bit less literary. Namely, male strippers. Okay, the Chippendales in particular, and I figure you know a little about these guys, since your hubby used to be one. I thought of you last night, as I attended a Chippies performance with my sister and my friend Allison at Harrah’s in St. Louis. (It was for research for my fourth Debutante Dropout Mystery, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEB. Really.)

As the lights dimmed and the spots swirled…and the guys strutted onto the stage (as cowboys and naval officers and in those little bowties, soon discarded for G-strings or nothing at all)…I wondered, “Hmm, how did Kelly feel, knowing that Mark once earned his paycheck, dollar by dollar, stuffed into his undies by groping, middle-aged women, drunk on rum and Cokes and bad cologne, drenched in sweat coming off the hard bodies of grinning hotties whose lap dances left nothing to the imagination?”

Yeah, Kelly, that’s precisely what I was thinking of for over an hour while the Chippendales flexed and thrust. I worried about you, wondered if Mark had kept any Polaroids from his dancing days, when all he had to do was look pretty and remember the choreography (which goes mostly like this: spin, drop to the ground, pretend to hump the floor, pop up, flex and rip your tear-able T-shirt straight down the middle, drop to the ground, pretend to hump the floor…you get the picture…oh, wait, maybe you have a picture).

I wonder, too, did Mark keep his bowtie and French cuffs for sentimental reasons? Does he ever put them on and say, “Watch me, Kelly, I can still do the old moves,” and then you humor him, thinking it was a good thing he got that gig with you at “All My Children” so he could (mostly) keep his pants on at the office.

All right, so what this is really all about is jealousy. A couple hundred women last night lusted after guys who spend their days in gyms so they don’t lose their jobs (though one dude seriously needed a tanning booth and a few hundred extra crunches). But, sweetie, you lived the dream. You hooked a Chippie and settled down. You get the six-pack abs at home every night. You don’t have to slide a buck in anyone’s pants to put your hands on a tight butt or see a whole lotta shakin’ going on.

I salute you, girlfriend. You make the rest of us proud; give us something to aspire to, beyond successful careers, nuclear disarmament and world peace. And you get to mouth off to Regis Philbin each morning besides. Sigh. You are a real-life example that fairy tales do come true. And I’m not just saying that because I want you to read my books. Really.

Yours truly,
Susan McBride
Author of BLUE BLOOD, THE GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER, and THE LONE STAR LONELY HEARTS CLUB
http://susanmcbride.com/
http://www.thelipstickchronicles.typepad.com/

Dear Kelly,

You know something about this, Kelly, so I thought I'd ask your advice. Remember when you first hired on at REGIS AND KELLY and everyone compared you to Kathy Lee Gifford? How did you handle that and do such a fabulous job of establishing your own identity without taking anything away from your predecessor?

I have this little problem. I write humorous, sexy mystery/romances.

So does Janet Evanovich. You may have heard of her—she's a regular on the New York Times Bestseller List with her hilarious Stephanie Plum Series.

Now I've never met Janet (I have met Jackie Collins, Dean Koontz and a host of other truly lovely authors but that's another blog). I have only admiration for her books and her business skills. There's no beef between us.

But some of her fans, okay, ONE of her fans has taken it upon herself to write me emails. She tells me she MIGHT have liked my books if she hadn't read Janet Evanovich, but since she has, she has spotted many glaring similarities. She ended the first email with something like she "supposed the imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." Which is a snarky way of suggesting that I am stealing from Janet. To back up her brilliant deductions, here is some of her evidence:

Samantha Shaw (the heroine in my series) has frizzy hair as does Stephanie Plus (Evanovich's heroine).

Stephanie Plum has a grandmother, and Samantha Shaw has a grandfather in the series.

They both have big dogs.

They both have love triangles.

I can't remember the rest, but they were all equally silly. Now Kelly, I can answer these. For instance I have frizzy hair, and frankly, I've gotten some big laughs. Once we went to Palm Springs (California) for brunch with the corporate bigwigs from my husband's work. The entertainment? Watching my carefully groomed hair frizz beneath the misters used to keep guests cool.

Hello! I spent twenty minutes taming my hair into submission and this restaurant puts misters above the guests? Don't think the wait staff wasn't coming by every two minutes and laughing behind their serving trays. What's a girl to do? I, of course, cracked jokes. Sure, my husband's colleagues MIGHT actually have been laughing at my frizzy hair, but I prefer to think it was my wit.

And yep, my character Sam has a grandpa. Umm, most everyone I know has a grandparent or two, or four, or even six hanging around the family tree. How does she think I stole that? Stephanie's grandma goes to funeral viewings and shoots the Sunday chicken. Samantha's grandfather is a retired magician who is helping Sam raise her sons. What's the big rip off there?

The dog? Excuse me, I had the dog first! She came in chapter two of my first book. A really cool German shepherd booted from the police dog program for stealing beer. Janet Evanovich's dog came later in her series after I'd written one or two of mine (and no, I don't think Janet ripped me off either!). Frankly, I know lots of people with dogs! Lots of books with dogs! Please.

And lastly, the love triangle. Oh for Cupid's sake, lady, get a clue. That's been around for CENTURIES. Janet E, though very talented, did not invent that one! And pay attention, I don’t exactly have a love triangle. My character is committed to one man. What I have is a little sexual tension going on between Sam and a police detective but nothing ever comes of it. It's called FLIRTING. Go look it up in a dictionary.

Kelly you were brilliant when you had Kathy Lee Gifford guest star on your sit com, HOPE AND FAITH. It showed everyone what a wonderful sense of humor both of you talented ladies have. But I don't have a sitcom. Do you have any other suggestions to get this gal to back off and take up another hobby besides dogging me?

Thanks!
Jennifer
http://jenniferapodaca.com/