Tansy: Hello! We’re Tansy and Jaffa, Bron’s Border Collie companions. She’s really busy with a deadline right now, so we thought we’d come and post in here for her. Being Border Collies, we’re smart enough to do that. Well, I am, anyway. [Whispering] My sister’s a blonde, in more ways than one.

Jaffa: Ooh, isn’t this a nice place! Look, there’s all these people! I’ll just roll onto my back so they can pat my tummy. Do you think any of them have treats?

Tansy: Anyway, we thought we’d talk today about dogs in fiction. Bron put a dog in her first book – a German Shepherd called Finn – and lots of readers loved him.

Jaffa: I don’t know why she hasn’t put us in a book.  I’m as gorgeous as Lassie, and when I run through the paddock, the wind blows my fur just like hers. We’re definitely cuter than a German Shepherd.

Tansy: Yes, we are. But let’s face it, we’d outshine the human characters, wouldn’t we?

Jaffa: If I was in a book, I’d want to be a Princess. With a proper silk satin cushion to curl up on. And somebody always there to rub my tummy. And people who feed me at the right time. And a big gorgeous furry dog – maybe one of those Huskies – to rescue me if there was trouble.

Tansy: If I was in a book, I’d be a kick-ass heroine. Or maybe that’s a bite-ass heroine, since I’m a dog. I’d be a spy, maybe a canine Jane Bond, or perhaps a Border Collie challenger to Inspector Rex. There’d be lots of racing around, chasing people, sniffing out clues, and stalking and rounding up the villains. And I’d save the hero, and he’d give me a really big bone.

Jaffa: Sounds like a lot of work to me. Although maybe a bone would be worth it.

Tansy: Psst – you know something? I had a look at the book she’s writing now – and there are dogs in it.

Jaffa: Us??

Tansy: No, they’re called Maggie and Roo. They rounded up some sheep. I’m not sure if they’re meant to be Border Collies or Kelpies, though.  Maybe we’re the inspiration for them.

Jaffa: Does the hero give a good tummy rub?

Tansy: Probably. He is the hero, after all. But she hasn’t written the tummy-rub scene yet, so I guess we’ll have to wait and see. Hey, do you think we should do a giveaway?

Jaffa: Give away what? A treat?

Tansy: No, they’re for us. But I think we should give away two copies of her book that’s got Finn in it. Maybe if readers tell us in the comments about their favourite fictional dog, and why that dog is a great character, we can draw two names from the comments to win the Finn book – although it’s called As Darkness Falls, not Finn’s Book. Now, I think she’s been sitting at that computer for too long. It must be time to take her for a walk.

Jaffa: Yes! Food time comes after our walk. Let’s go!

I know the holiday is behind us. We’re climbing free of the mountains of shredded wrapping paper and the tangle of ribbon. Our trees look forlorn and naked without the heaps of packages underneath them, and if we hear the saccharine strains of one more Christmas song, we’ll heave something heavy at the stereo, but I couldn’t leave the holiday behind without talking about my favorite Christmas tradition: the holiday movie!

In my house, it’s forbidden to watch Christmas movies before Thanksgiving. So by the end of November, pulling out the stack of DVDs is like opening a gift a month early. Holiday movies are a time for all of us to curl up on the couch under mounds of blankets with bowls of popcorn. We begin right after Thanksgiving with THE MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET—the original with Maureen O’Hara and Natalie Wood, of course. From there, each night brings a new jewel of Christmases past.
The classics:

WHITE CHRISTMAS with Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye.
Barbara Stanwyck and Dennis Morgan in CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT.
THE HOMECOMING—a TV special that spawned the Waltons television series.
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE—no explanation needed

Then there are the ones we cherish from our childhood:

RUDOLPH THE RED NOSED REINDEER
FROSTY THE SNOWMAN
HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS
A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS
THE CHRISTMAS STORY—“you’ll shoot your eye out, kid.”

And finally, newer additions to Hollywood’s celebration of the holiday:

CHRISTMAS VACATION
ELF
THE POLAR EXPRESS
THE SANTA CLAUSE
SCROOGED
THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS

As you can see, we spend a lot of nights this way!

Some families bake. Some stand in freezing lines of shoppers on Black Friday. Still others get together for caroling parties or to trim the tree. We all have our own ways of connecting during the season. My family chooses to come together to watch a host of feel-good Christmas films. And as I put away the decorations, sort through the presents, and eat the last gingerbread cookie, I know that next year will bring a return of a treasured tradition: the holiday movie.

Does your family have a special way to celebrate the season? Or a favorite movie you have to watch every year? I’d love to add to my list!

Note: Today’s the last day to enter our Super Secret Santa Give-Away! Click here to learn how. The draw will be made late this afternoon, and Gail Fuller will announce the winner tomorrow.

Good luck to all who entered, and Merry Christmas!

And now for my post!

Anyone else decorate for Christmas with pets in mind? You know, no tinsel this year, because the kitten might eat it. Tie that tree to the rafters so the Saint Bernard’s tail doesn’t whack it to the ground!

Our pets are usually pretty good around Christmas. Our current cat, Keisha, a spirited tortoiseshell, uses the tree watering system as her personal water bowl just like her Siamese predecessor did, but so far she hasn’t knocked down the tree. The Christmas I was five, though, I remember waking up to a crash in the middle of the night a few days before Christmas (I can pinpoint my age because we only lived in the house in question for one Christmas). The tree my mother had so carefully decorated had come whipping down…courtesy of the cat. As an adult I’ve lived in fear of this happening again, but so far it hasn’t. That doesn’t stop me from imagining the possibilities, though.

And so, in memory of my old Siamese cat, Seiki, and with apologies to the descendants of Clement Clarke Moore, I offer my version of ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas:

…EXCEPT FOR THE CAT
by Cindy Procter-King

Was midnight before Christmas, when all through our shack
Not a creature was stirring…except for the cat.
The stockings were strung twenty feet in the air,
In vain hopes that The Fanged One wouldn’t discover them there.

The kidlets were snoozing all tucked in their beds,
While plans for stealing catnip danced in the fuzzy beast’s head.
And DH in his sweatpants, and I with the dog in my lap,
Had just flopped into bed after imbibing enough eggnog to induce a 12-hour nap.

When from the living room below there arose such a crash,
I flew out of bed and down the stairs like The Flash.
Tore around the corner and tripped over the Yule log,
Righted myself, but nearly threw up my eggnog.

For the tree I had so lovingly sprayed with canned snow
Now lay on the ground, broken ornaments strewn to and fro.
When, what to my widening eyes should appear,
But a miniature tiger, and eight alley cats to fear!

Our cat was their leader, so clever and quick,
I realized then he was up to his old tricks.
More rapid than mice, his feline minions they came,
While I screamed up the stairs to DH with no shame,

“The cat door! It you forgot to close!
Now every cat in the neighborhood is upon us!
They’re scratching the furniture! They’re climbing the walls!
How will we ever get rid of them all?”

DH made no sound; he was still up in bed,
Having drunk enough eggnog that he lay as if dead.
So, left alone with the wily beasts, I knew,
I had to save the Christmas tree—and all the toys, too.

And then, ears a-breaking, I heard the cats howl
As they pummeled the lights and the gifts while they scowled.
I swung my hands wildly and screeched just as loud,
“Get out of my house! Get away, get away, get away NOW!”

My cat arched his spine, from his head to his tail,
His fur was all matted with tinsel and hail.
His gift of catnip he had flung from the tree,
And he looked like a wild animal, eyes glittering with glee.

His nose—how it twitched! His cat cheeks, how hairy!
His jaw—how it gaped, his mouth red like a berry!
His sharp teeth were flashing like Wolverine’s claws,
The sight of which would give anyone pause.

A branch of the tree he now gripped in his teeth,
And of course he’d destroyed my new Christmas wreath!
He had a fat face and a full-of-food belly,
That swung as he yowled at me like I was his lackey!

He was high-strung and arrogant, a right nasty Siamese.
But I laughed as I gazed at him, to keep him well-pleased.
As he strutted toward me, his meows rang through my head,
Which quickly gave me to know that I had much to dread.

He hissed to his underlings, “Out of the house now!
My human will clean this mess, and no one will know!”
Then, sticking his tail straight up to space,
And giving a wail, to the warm bed he raced!

I know I’m his slave, so I sprang into action,
While away tore his minions before I could catch them.
As I heard him purring upstairs while DH snored with delight,
I thought, “Happy Christmas to all—no thanks to the cat, because I’ll be up all night!”

Am I the only one guilty of judging a book not by its cover, but by its white space?  Yes, I confess, I love white space.  Lots of dialog with brief-to-medium paragraphs.  And, actually, short chapters, too. When I complete a chapter, I’ll count ahead to see how many pages until the next chapter ending.  I don’t know if this is some sort of neurosis I’m suffering from or actually quite common in other readers.  Let me clarify though, chapter length or lack of white space isn’t a deal breaker for me, just more like a bonus. I read lots of books with long chapters and lengthy paragraphs, but given the choice, I much prefer the opposite.  And, too, all that unmarred white space just feels good to my eyes. On one hand, I’m attracted to white space, but on the other I understand it’s the little back letters that take up this white space that makes a story unforgettable.  (I’ve NEVER read the end of a novel first!)

Here’s something else I’ve never understood.  Say the book I’ve ordered and have been waiting on for a week, is in.  I set aside a good chuck of uninterrupted time. No phones. No kids. No computer.  I devour the first chapter like it’s a half melted milk chocolate Lenz truffle.  I’m in heaven!  I never want the book to end, and yet I read it as fast as I can—to be done.  I want to be done.  I want to know what the last paragraph, last sentence says.  But, then it’s over, and I’m kind of sorry that it is.  It’s a paradox, and I don’t get it.  But I do know that the author has done her job superbly and deserves a pat on the back.

Now I’d like to know what you think.  Do you like long or short paragraphs?  What about chapter length?  Do you read as if there’s catastrophe just outside your door and this is your one and only chance to get ‘er done, or do you languish and ponder as you go?

Along with your comments I’ve included a couple of polls to make it easier to keep track of this valuable information.  I think it’ll be fun to see what’s most preferred.  They’re located at; http://inthenickeroftime.wordpress.com/polls/

I just got home from an exhausting and fun-filled day of pre-Black Friday shopping. Because I teach, Christmas shopping presents a challenge. When I’m elbow deep in end-of-semester grading, it’s hard to find time (or energy) to find that perfect gift. This year, I really wanted to get some of it out of the way early, which got me thinking of our holiday shopping rituals.

Today, we spent our day at an outlet mall. This particular outlet will open at 12 a.m. this Black Friday. After filling up on Turkey, shoppers from near and far check in to the adjacent hotels. They take power naps before piling into the stores where they hope to find that deeply discounted Coach bag or Nike sweat suit. Some people come for the sales; some people come for the fun; some people come hoping to catch two grandmas duke it out over an extra frilly Christmas dress. Others stay away altogether.

I’m a member of the latter group. Crowds make me…nervous. The one time I made it out at an ungodly hour to go shopping on Black Friday, I didn’t even leave my car. One look at the line snaking through the parking lot had me heading right back home. In my house, we’re big fans of “Cyber Monday” (though we watch online sales all through the weekend). No crowds, no sore feet. (Admittedly, however, less fun than scoping sales with friends.)

I have several friends who never miss Black Friday. Some of them carefully plan their days and know which bargains they’re after. They have lists and time tables, and I wouldn’t put it past one of them to throw a couple elbows if that’s what it took. Others go because they see Black Friday as a spectator sport. If they happen to grab a couple deals, all the better.

But today, as we went store to store at this outlet mall, the one thing we kept hearing from retailers was that today’s sales were either the same as or better than the ones they would put out on Friday. Retail games. And that makes sense, doesn’t it? When Friday brings a mad rush of frantic shoppers determined to cross gifts off their lists (much like me today), they’re primed to buy. Not every item needs to be its most discounted price to score a sale.

Then again, maybe telling us that today’s deals are as good as Friday’s was just another retail game. It’s hard to say. However, my living room full of bags is proof enough that the deals seemed good to me. I surely won’t be headed back Friday to do price checks.

So what about you all? Do you do any holiday shopping? Have you started? Will you go Friday? Or do you wait until the last minute? Or perhaps you prefer to shop online? Whatever you choose, I’d love to hear your bargain shopping tips (holiday and otherwise).

I have this friend…let’s call her MJ. She recently set up a Facebook page.

MJ has never been a big fan of social networking (she still doesn’t tweet). She likes email and phone calls and figures if people have a genuine desire to get in touch with her, they’ll do it without the help of the latest Internet fad. While she finds herself enjoying Facebook more than she expected—it is nice to get an update on several people’s lives with one click—some aspects of “friending” aren’t as warm and welcoming as others.

Person-you’ve-never-heard-of. Nowadays, seeing “1 friend request” in the corner of your Facebook page is nearly as exciting as “you’ve got mail” used to be when e-mail was new. Except when I click on the request, I discover…I’ve never heard this name in my life. Who are you and why do you want status updates on a total stranger? Did I pop up as a “suggestion” and you figured you’d throw me in as # 3,543 on your friend list? Sorry, dude (or gal). I keep my page limited to people I’ve actually met. (Note: meeting online counts. I have writer friends I’ve never seen in person, but I still know who they are!)

Person-you-last-saw-at-age-twelve. Okay, I get reminiscing with classmates from high school and college. Those years are powerful and hold a lot of (hopefully) incredible experiences. But middle school? I’m in my 30’s (BARELY, I might add). The last time you saw me, I was sitting in a seventh-grade classroom with bad hair, no fashion sense, and a Babysitters Club book. You never spoke two words to me, and now you’re like, “Hey! So great to see you!” Riiiight. Yes, I’m hot now (lol), and no, I haven’t forgotten that you picked me last in gym class every week. That aside, I’m pretty sure there are too many years and not enough memories to bother getting in touch.

The ex. Talk about melodrama. There are hordes of articles out there blaming Facebook for crumbling marriages, because old flames keep hooking up via their Walls. I’m not sure why anyone would choose Facebook for this, especially if someone is looking for trouble—it’s not exactly private. Two entire friend lists probably don’t want to watch a couple swap stories about that time in the library during sophomore year…and does anyone really want to see an ex’s honeymoon pics while perusing his or her profile? I wouldn’t dream of looking up the guys I (during a lapse in judgment) dated and hope to H-E-double-hockey-sticks they never find me. Eww. Why, again, did we invent this way of coming back and haunting people who might not want to remember us?

All right, I admit, I…I mean, MJ…enjoys logging on to Facebook each day. I just feel like playing devil’s advocate. What do you think—are some people best left in the past, or do you enjoy catching up with best friends from elementary school? Is Facebook really the end of marriage as we know it? And have you ever sent a friend request to a complete stranger?

Romance and Halloween.  Not so much, right?  Think again.  If costume-less teenaged punks sinking their meaty fists into your candy bowl sounds less than appealing, grab your loved one tomorrow and try one of these ideas:

A Twilight/Midnight Graveyard Picnic – Arrange to meet there, if you dare.

A Walk in the Woods – Take along a blanket and flashlight and find the perfect spot to swap ghost stories or Halloween memories.

Fright Night at the Movies – A standby, but who can argue with popcorn, candy and many, many opportunities to clutch your loved one?

Secret Costumes – Arrive at a party or large club where everyone will be in costume, but don’t tell each other what you’ll be.  Find each other through clues of body language or behavior-the way they dance, move, speak to others, drink.

Costume Party for Two – no elaboration needed. 

Haunted Bedroom – Stage a halloween bedroom using candles, black rose petals, spider webs and red wine. 

Midnight Pumpkin Patch - Carve a few pumpkins long after the trick or treaters have gone to bed, spread autumn leaves on a blanket in the backyard, light the jack-o-lanterns and have a picnic of wine or dessert.

Moonlight Maze – Corn field mazes aren’t just for kids.  Let the moon guide you and your loved one, no flashlights allowed.  Be sure to bring a blanket and a thermos filled with your favorite hot drink to share.

Who Needs Marshmellows – when you have pumpkin seeds?  Why not secret away to a place you can build a campfire, roast seeds and read Edgar Allen Poe stories?

Love Letter or Poem – Write a love poem about all the ways your life would be scary without your special someone in it.  Burn the paper’s edges and roll it up with twine or black ribbon.  Found haunted love poems work well, too.  Or, carve out a special message to your loved one, one letter per pumpkin, and line his or her walkway with them.

What’s the most romantic way you’ve ever celebrated Halloween?

For weeks, I waited for it. I planned my work around it, talked about it ad nauseam, imagined just how it would turn out. What would people say and do? What would they wear? And how would I feel when that moment finally came?

That’s right. I’m talking about Jim and Pam’s wedding on the American television show The Office, and when I finally sat down to watch last Wednesday’s episode and see this favorite couple of mine tie the knot, I was not disappointed. (WARNING: I did my best to avoid spoilers, but if you haven’t seen it and want to, you might want to wait before reading further.)

Jim and Pam's wedding

I’ll admit it: I love weddings. And it’s not the fanfare that makes my belly flutter when I see a couple exchanging vows. True, I like a pretty white dress at much as the next girl. But ten years ago, my brother and sister-in-law got married in my mother’s living room in their jeans, and I was as moved (if not more) as at a wedding where the bride wore a dress with a five foot train.

I can’t boil my love of weddings down to just one thing. Honestly, neither can I boil it down to two, but for the purposes of this blog, I’ll do my best.

I love that weddings are an opportunity for the couple to celebrate their love. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? And this is why I write romance. I love those stomach-pitching moments, those moments where your love-intense and unrestrained-is making chaos in your belly. Living in the “real world” means that we spend our days so often distracted from our partners rather than by them. We have dishes to do, laundry to fold, promotions to earn…blogs to write. None of this is terribly conducive to the longing glances of the stories we write (aka, the longing glances of our courtship). But a wedding day-whether it be ours or someone else’s-makes us feel that again, makes us remember why we’ve decided to make a life together.

My husband and I dancing during our wedding reception

We don’t need a wedding, however, to recapture that feeling. Weddings are about so much more than just the two people exchanging vows. They’re about community. They’re about the people who support you and love you and wish you well. They’re about the people who taught us to love and who keep us laughing when times get tough-because they will; this is, after all, a life we’re living.

Dancing with our friends

Jim and Pam’s wedding captured both of these to my delirious satisfaction. I promised I was going to try to avoid spoilers, so rather than say any more, I want to direct you to the YouTube video that must have inspired this episode of The Office. Like weddings should be, it’s pure joy!

JK Wedding Dance Entrance

Recently, I was in the middle of a shower when the jingle for this 80’s toy sprung to mind—”My buddy (my buddy), my buddy (my buddy)—my buddy and me!” (Don’t ask me why a shower would inspire such a thing. My mind is weird. And no, I wasn’t doing anything funny in there!) That’s Kid Sister to his left. Does anyone remember these life-size, extremely wide-eyed dolls? I had a Kid Sister for many years, until I grew mature—age eleven or something—and passed her on to my four-year-old neighbor.

This got me thinking about other long-forgotten toys I loved like crazy when I was a kid. What 80’s little girl didn’t have a stuffed Rainbow Brite? (Pay no attention to the “sexy” Rainbow Brite Halloween costumes you see when you Google this particular image. It ruins the innocence.)

The Sylvanian bears were some of my favorites—there was an entire line of family members, but of course I picked out the bride and groom, because I was a fan of romance even then. This picture makes me so nostalgic, I may have to hit eBay and order a set.

Then there are the toys EVERYONE wants, the ones that force parents to stand in line for three days to make their kids deliriously happy on Christmas morning. One year I went to Target at five a.m. on Black Friday to snag an Elmo Something-or-Other for my niece—and while I was there, I picked up a sweater for myself, which a woman tried to talk me into taking out of my cart and giving to her because there weren’t any other ones left in the color she wanted. (Um…sorry?) And who could forget the mad rush for these babies:

I never understood this one. Never owned a Furby. They are bizarre little creatures.

What were your favorite childhood toys? Did you or your kids HAVE to have a certain toy for the holidays? Any day-after-Thanksgiving toy-shopping horror stories?

(P.S. I’m getting away with this image-heavy post because I just finished a book and am on hiatus from putting together too many coherent words.)

I was working furiously at my desk when my husband decided to join me in my office. He sat down on the couch to read a political magazine and proceeded to comment on every article. I was about to tell him to leave when my cat/office-mate made an appearance.

Raja, my three-legged Bengal talks but at least he’s not annoying. Since we named him Raja meaning King, he took the moniker to heart and treats me and every other biped like lowly servants. He sat outside the gate (meant to keep dogs, kids, and husbands out) in the doorway, which he is more than capable of climbing over, belts out an order, and expects me to serve as doorman while I wait patiently until he sees fit to enter. This, I suppose, makes perfect sense to him. To me–not so much.

As my husband read, Raja took his throne–the couch–and made it known that he wasn’t thrilled with the company. That’s when Stephen, aka DH, asked, “What animal character is in your next book?” Huh? I didn’t have a furry character in my book. No wonder something seemed off. When he saw the look of shock and horror on my face, he quickly backpedaled. “You don’t have to have an animal side-kick in every book. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Yeah, right. It’s fine.

If you read Romeo, Romeo, the first book in my Domestic Gods Series, you probably remember Dave the dog. Dave was the male version of my late dog, Clancy–a 150-pound Black Lab, St. Bernard mix. Clancy was certain all three of my children were her puppies, and she treated them as such. She was known to clean them, scold them, and baby-sit. Dave was such a great character, he was mentioned in almost every review the book received and even receives fan mail. He might have been a dog, but he was a living, breathing, well-rounded character with his own character arc. Yes, you might think it’s insane, but Dave had his own arc and was pivotal to the plot.

Dave was also in Too Hot to Handle. He stayed with the heroine, Annabelle, while his parents, Rosalie and Nick, doggie-proofed the love-nest and honeymooned. Again, he seemed to steal almost every scene he was in.

In Breakfast in Bed, the third book in my Domestic Gods series, which comes out in December 2009, my heroine, Becca, owns a rescued cat she found lying injured on the side of the road. Becca took him to the Vet. He survived, unfortunately, one of his legs didn’t, so she named him Tripod. Okay, so sue me, Tripod is Raja with a name-change. I’ve believed for some time now that Raja was jealous because he didn’t have his own book. He is such a character; I only added one thing while putting him on the page. Tripod loves drinking coffee and Raja doesn’t. Okay, maybe it’s because he’s never been offered any. Everything else about Tripod is true of Raja including the missing leg and his penchant for popcorn, potato chips, and spumoni. Most of his antics were taken out of real life happenings, although I did leave out a few of his tricks like his predilection for flushing the toilet while you’re still on it. Although funny, there no way I want my readers picturing my H/H sitting on the porcelain throne. It’s just not sexy.

After my DH asked me about what animal character I was going to put in my fourth book, I gave myself a head slap. Luckily, it must have stirred something loose and an idea came to mind. Gina, the heroine of As Good as He Gets (working title) grew up knowing she had to be able to fit all her belongings in two suitcases and a backpack because she and her family often found themselves in the unenviable position of having to pack up everything in 10 minutes in the dark in order to skip-out on the rent. Gina has been a character in all three previous books and has finally earned her own Happily Ever After. After much thought, I found the perfect pet for her. Meet Jasmine – She’s a pointer mix I found running down the highway about three years ago and brought home. She was about 9 months old, emaciated, and scared to death. It was the last night of our local Fireman’s Carnival, replete with fireworks and the poor baby was so terrified; she shook like a leaf and shed what little fur she had left. Still to this day, whenever there’s a thunderstorm or fireworks she throws herself on top of me and vibrates with fear.

The thing that gets me about Jasmine is she’s such a little lady. She’s put on about 20 pounds since we adopted her but she’s still so delicate. When she lies down, she crosses her dainty little paws like the proper little lady. Still, when it comes to getting what she wants, she’s not averse to nipping my 120-pound yellow lab in the butt, sending him off crying to me, his mama. She’s a spunky little package of street smarts and naiveté, very much like Gina herself. They are both strays who grew up on the streets taking care of themselves and they have a very hard time trusting and depending upon anyone. I think they’ll make a perfect match. Just like Gina and her hero Ben. It’s going to be a fun ride.

So tell me, what are your favorite three or four-legged characters from books or movies?