Speed Dating

The next book that I’m writing has my hero and heroine meeting through speed dating.  I thought sounded like a fun way of having them meet. The problem is, I have no experience with it. I hate to sound old, but speed dating didn’t exist when I was single.

I’ve seen it on TV, but usually on a crime show and one of the people usually ends up dead. Not a great plug for the activity.

So, like I do for most of my research, I went online. I found sites where you can sign up for speed dating. Each event is held at a different location for different groups of people, whether delineated by age, ethnicity or whatever. The research was great, but there was only so much information I could find out without actually registering for one of the events. Could be problematic, considering I’m happily married—there’s only so much “research” I’m willing to do, and dating isn’t one of them.

My next step was contacting a single friend of mine. She put me in touch with one of her friends who had actually participated in speed dating, so I asked her lots of questions. And her answers were great and very helpful.

But then I went out to dinner this weekend. My husband, daughter and I met up with a friend in New York City and we stopped at an Irish pub for dinner. The food was great, but more importantly, they were holding a speed-dating event at the back of the pub! The pub was next to a hotel and in order to get to the restrooms, you had to go through this extra room where the event was going to be held.

The first time I walked back there, there were signs on the tables reserving them for the event, and staff putting together packets for the participants. As we ate our dinner, we noticed people arriving. The women came in groups of two or three; the men arrived by themselves for the most part. The next time I walked back there, people were waiting for the event to begin. The last time (we’re in a strange place in New York, you don’t really think I’m going to let my daughter go to the restrooms by herself, do you? At least, that’s my story…) I was in time to hear the hostess go over the rules for the evening. While I waited for my daughter to finish using the restroom, I surreptitiously recorded the hostess, so I could go back to the information later.

It was just like I’ve seen on TV, but more low-tech than I expected. People were told to fill out their pamphlets by hand. I’m not sure; maybe I expected a speed-dating app?

My husband and our friend actually suggested I try to participate, but again, there’s only so much “research” I’m willing to actively engage in, and I wouldn’t want to prevent someone from meeting their match because they were busy speaking to me!

Have you tried speed dating? Would you?

Laundry Day

I have two girls. Two girls who are two and a half years apart. They are very different personality-wise and there is no one who ever mistakes one for the other. However, they own a few items that are similar.

Specifically, clothing.

Sure, their tastes are different, but they occasionally share things. And although they’re not the same size, certain items can be shared. And of course, let’s not forget things like socks, which can be anyone’s.

That’s why I do their laundry separately. I hate doing laundry and like to get it done as fast as possible. The last thing I want to do is spend time deciphering whose clothing belongs to whom.

Occasionally, however, their clothes get mixed together, like when they borrow things, or when we come back from vacation and I throw everything in the laundry together—yeah, laundry is not my thing.

Now, I’ve been a bit busy lately, and laundry has had to take a back seat, but the past few days I’ve spent catching up and I finally got all their clothes done that needed doing. I washed, dried and folded. I even carried it up to their rooms and put it on their beds.

My kids, knowing how busy I’ve been, have been tiptoeing around me. You can’t imagine the surprise when my youngest very carefully asked me if I might have a chance to get to her laundry at some point, and my immediate answer was, “Of course, I’ll do it right now.” Apparently that was the clue that things could go back to “normal.” Because when I did their laundry, folded it and put it on their beds, I mixed some of the pieces up. And my youngest came downstairs and said, “Mom, some of the laundry isn’t mine.”

Here’s where I’m confused. She and my older daughter are the only two kids in the house. The clothing was obviously not mine or my husband’s. So anything she saw that wasn’t hers was obviously her sister’s. Yet, she came to me with a puzzled look on her face.

Really? You can’t turn around, take two steps to your right, knock, and give it to your sister? You have to ask me first?

I think it’s time someone started doing her own laundry.

It's Time For A Change

I’m going to be nicer. I’m going to hold my tongue. I’m going to think before I speak. 

I haven’t done that for a very long time. I don’t like much about myself these days and that’s the reason. It’s easy getting pulled in when people laugh. It’s easy to think people like you when really, they just think you’re funny. 

That old saying, "laughter is good for the soul"--it's wrong. Laughter is good for the ego; kindness is good for the soul. And I'm missing the kindness.

I lost a part of myself, the nice part, and I’m going to spend time finding it again.

I’m blaming no one but myself. It's one hundred percent my fault. So I'm taking responsibility and I'm changing. I’m going to surround myself with things that make me happy. I’m going to hang out with my friends who (hopefully still) like me for who I am inside and try to get to that place again. 

I tried it the other way. And frankly, it’s just not worth it.

Book Rerelease

No time for a long post, but I wanted to announce that my first book, A Heart of Little Faith, was just rereleased by my current publisher (I got the rights back from my old publisher), Rebel Ink Press. It's got a beautiful new cover and received some editing help.

Blurb:

Lily Livingston is a widow raising her six-year-old daughter, Claire, in New York City. Devastated by her husband’s death three years ago, she’s in no hurry to fall in love again. Besides, trying to balance her career with motherhood leaves her little time for romance.

With a wheelchair instead of a white horse, and a vow against falling in love again as his armor, Gideon Stone is the last person Lily expects to sweep her off her feet. But when a business agreement forces the two of them together, that is exactly what happens.

As they navigate the minefield that fast represents their relationship, can either of them overcome the obstacles to find true happiness in each other’s arms? The answer is yes, but the bumps along the way demonstrate that neither of them can go it alone.

http://www.amazon.com/Heart-Little-Faith-Jennifer-Wilck-ebook/dp/B00PF1A0P4/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1415656036&sr=8-3&keywords=jennifer+wilck

November

 November is NaNoWriMo month, where you participate in a writing challenge—30,000 words by the end of the month. Many of my writer friends are doing it; I, however, am not. November is never a great month for me, but this year, it’s particularly busy.

I know I made the right choice, but seeing my friends post about it is making me wish I were a part of it. The good news is I’m dying to write. I can’t wait until my commitment mid-month is over and I’ll have hours and hours to write. My writing these days has been sparse, and I’m encouraged by the desire I have to sit in front of my computer and finish the stories I’m working on.

In addition to writing being my job, it’s also my escape. With all the stress I’m under right now, I haven’t been able to write. That’s okay as long as it’s temporary. I’m encouraged that I want to write, even if I can’t sit down and actually do it. I’m planning my writing schedule, setting goals and figuring out what I’m going to work on first.

On November 16, I’ll hit the ground running!