The contents of a woman’s purse are like a window into her mind, her heart, her personality, revealing the deepest truths about her. At least according to a writing workshop I attended once. The author giving the talk gave the advice that, as writers, we should make a list of what our heroine had in her purse to get a handle on her character.

Since I write historicals, I didn’t find this particularly useful advice, but it did make me think about what I carry in my purse and what it tells about me, if anything.

First of all, let’s talk about my purse. I have a huge collection of purses. Purses are a fashion accessory and I am severely addicted to fashion accessories. That said, all my billions of purses have one thing in common: they’re all easy to get into. I want to effortlessly reach my whole hand in and pull out whatever it is I want. Tiny zippered openings? Not happening. A flap with a buckle? Too complicated. It has to be easy to reach in and grab. I realize that this makes me a prime target for a pickpocket, but I don’t care (probably because I’ve never had my pocket picked); if my purse doesn’t help me by displaying my wallet and my car keys and my lipstick, I’ll end up hating it and it will never leave the closet.

I think we all know how fashion accessories LOVE to leave the closet.

I think what my choice in purses reveals about me is that I’m easily frustrated. This is a true statement.

But what about the contents of my purse? Do all those little bits of things reveal my basic nature and my heart of hearts? Well…

I always carry a wallet. I do not think this makes me obsessive/compulsive. Isn’t the main purpose of a purse (besides being a fashion accessory) to hold a wallet?

I always carry lipstick. I do not think this makes me vain. It makes me…determined not to have chapped lips. Yeah, that sounds right.

I always carry an emory board. I do not think this makes me a closet manicurist. What if I’m shopping for lingerie and I get a hang-nail that snags the lacy strap? I’m just trying to be a considerate shopper.

I don’t always carry a cell phone and if I happen to have my cell phone, it’s not always charged and it’s probably not turned on. What can I say? I like to shop in peace. There’s nothing worse than getting a phone call while you’re trying on a swim suit. The person calling you doesn’t understand at all why you’re sobbing incoherently as you stare into a cruelly lit fun-house mirror.

But here’s the thing that I’m afraid reveals a real secret truth about me. I always carry a hankerchief. I have a huge collection of pretty hankerchiefs, handed down to me by my grandmother and my mother-in-law. Okay, I admit it, I’ve bought a few for myself at a local antique store. I happen to love the prettiness of a lacey hankerchief, the pure feminitity of one. Plus, it’s practical. Really. You just never know when you’re going to need a clean bit of cloth to dab at life’s little emergencies.

What unusual item do you always carry? Band-aids? Sewing kit? Dental floss? Hand sanitizer? Notepad? Tape measure? (Yes, I’ve carried all of these in my day.) Do the contents of your purse reveal the secret you?

54 Comments »

I have a confession to make — when I’m in an area where my cell phone won’t work, I get a little . . . nervous . . . agitated . . . jittery.

I tell myself that it’s because I worry something will happen to my kids and I won’t be there to assist them. Although in reality, by the time I get an “I’m in trouble” call, the deed (whatever it is) is done and all that’s left for me to do is yell, “What in the HECK were you thinking?”

The truth is something simpler . . . I’m addicted to my cell phone.

I keep it with me everywhere. I take it to the store, the bookstore, my parents’ house, when I’m driving, at the doctor’s, sitting at McDonald’s . . . it doesn’t matter where I go. If I’m there, my trust Motorola Q is right there with me and I obsessively check it every oh, seven minutes.

Ok, maybe more like five.

I do not, however, talk in public places or while driving because I know that’s annoying or dangerous. See? I do practice Safe Cellphoneage.

Lately, though, I’ve noticed OTHER people seem to always have THEIR cellphones with them, too, and seem even more addicted than I am. I was at the doctor’s yesterday for my annual physical where I saw a woman clutching her paper drape with one hand while in the other, she clung desperately to her cell phone with the air of a child holding a precious teddy bear.

The nurse had to ask her to ‘put the phone down’ in the same tone of voice one might use to talk a jumper off the ledge of a building. The woman, I might add, did not wish to release her phone and gave a huge list of reasons why she might need the phone in the middle of her exam (none of which had the least relevance, I might add).

The nurse looked irritated by this dependency, but I have to say, I was in my little room across the hall nodding my head. Of course, I had cleverly hidden MY phone between the exam table and the cushion and had set it on vibrate, so that if it went off, I would be the only one to know, though what I would have done if that HAD happened, I don’t know. “Excuse me, doctor, but I have a strange tingling under my left buttock. Would you mind leaving the room for a moment?”

What about you guys? Any of you found yourself a slave to technology? Your cellphone? PDA? Computer? The internet? If so, do you want to be cured or are you sort of enjoying your little addiction? (Btw, did I mention that I’ve downloaded 21 games on my cellphone? AND 121 of my favorite songs? Oh yes!)

62 Comments »

You know the song in THE SOUND OF MUSIC that goes, “These are a few of my favorite things?”

“Whiskers on kittens… brown paper packages tied up with string.”

I don’t agree with some of Julie Andrews’s choices. While kittens are adorable, their whiskers are not that appealing to me. Whiskers are not attractive on a show horse either, since it’s a sign of poor grooming. And on men… well, a five-o’clock shadow can be sexy on some guys, but if you have to kiss them, whiskers just feel like sandpaper.

I’m not fond of brown paper either, but I guess I should remember that song was written about a time before glitzy wrapping paper came into vogue. And back then brown paper packages meant presents. I’m okay with presents. I like them usually. But I can list a lot of things that beat out presents for my favorite things.

So fellow goddesses, since quizzes are a great get-to-know-you vehicle, and since I like to learn about the goddesses I hang with, this is another chance to talk about some of our fave things.

What are some of your favorite things and why? Name your favorite:
-LOVE SONG
-ROMANTIC MOVIE
-ROMANTIC STAR IN MOVIES OR TV
-PLACE TO READ
-READING MATERIAL (newspapers, magazines, novels, non-fiction, how-to manuals, on-line sources, etc.)
-FICTION GENRE/SUBGENRE (literary, historicals, mysteries, paranormal, etc.)
-Complete the following sentence: To me READING IS  better than
       a) TV and movies
       b) chocolate
       c) sex
       d) as necessary as breathing

54 Comments »

No, I’m not talking about that scene in WHEN HARRY MET SALLY, altho that was a great scene.  I’m talking moments – the satisfying moments when you say “YES!” and fling your fist at the universe in elation.  That was primarily metaphorical.  I’m not advocating flinging your fists all over the place, especially if you’re driving.  There are crazy people out there who’d shoot you for that.

I hope you’ve had lots of YES moments in your life.  I’ve had my share and I’m grateful for every one. 

Today I’m talking about YES moments in books and movies.  Goddess Sabrina got me thinking about this a few days ago when she blogged about tidy endings and I thought about the movie SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and that wonderful scene at the end of the flick where you know it’ll all be okay.  I said “YES.”

But the YES moments don’t always have to come at the end.  Sometimes it’s the characters’ “turning point” – the moment they morph into the person you always knew they could be.  Like in GROUNDHOG DAY when Bill Murray finally gets it right.  Or when the bully gets theirs – like in CHRISTMAS STORY when Ralphie whales into Skut Farkus.   Every person who’d ever been terrorized by a playground bully said YES!  I loved the moment in ALMOST HEAVEN when Ian Thorton put the meanspirited Valerie – the one whose misspelled notes had started all the pain for him and Elizabeth – in her place.  That was definitely a YES moment.

Conversely, maybe there is never a YES moment and you’re left dissatisfied.  I always thought Charlie Brown should have aimed for Lucy instead of the ball – just once.  

What are your favorite YES moments in books and movies?  When were you denied a YES moment that still rankles inside you? 

53 Comments »

There’s a debate going on within Romance Writers of America about whether or not a romance novel has to have a happily ever after to be considered a romance. To me, this is a no brainer. If the hero and heroine do not end up together at the end of a book, it’s not a romance. It may be a great novel, but it isn’t a romance. Gone With The Wind was great. It’s one of my favorite books– not a romance.

So tell me what you think? Does a book have to have an HEA to be a romance? And what are some great books that are romantic but are not romance novels?

58 Comments »

I have a confession to make: I google EVERYTHING. Words I don’t know, names of people I haven’t seen in years, dates that are important to me . . . if it can be written, I’ll google it.

One time, I even googled myself. That’s when I found out that Karen Hawkins is not only a romance author, but also . . .

1) Real Estate Mogul Karen Hawkins.

2) Organic Food Champion Karen Hawkins.

and 3) Sister Karen Hawkins, the nun.

Sometimes I wonder how I would like these Alternative Careers. Could I develop the skills and knowledge to be Organic Karen Hawkins? Handle the stress of a high pressure ever-changing real estate market like Mogul Karen Hawkins? Become . . . (gulp!) Sister Karen Hawkins?

So here’s the Googling Goddess Game:. Google your name and give us your top three Alternative Life Choices. Would you want these careers? Is there one that made you laugh? Or one that made you go “hmmm!”?

47 Comments »

I’m talking about plot threads, not cleaning. You see, I like mine tied up neat and tidy. Yes, I�ve noticed that real life doesn�t work that way. No, I don’t care. That�s why I prefer popular fiction to literary fiction–because popular fiction ties up loose threads, resolves conflict, and settles things.

Unfortunately, these days no book, television show, or movie is considered sophisticated unless it leaves plot threads hanging. Look at how the critics salivated over the �brilliant� series finale of �The Sopranos.� Me, I just got mad. I felt like the show had engaged me for six seasons, then left me swinging in the wind. No justice for Adriana and no self-awareness for Tony OR Carmela. The series began and ended with the characters going nowhere, just like in real life. Remind me again of why I watch TV?

What bugs me is that literary fiction didn�t used to be biased against tidy resolutions. Whether Shakespeare�s plays ended happily or tragically, they wrapped everything up nicely. So did Jane Austen�s books and virtually every other nineteenth-century novel. Then along came the age of naturalism and realism. Suddenly, literary fiction was expected to eliminate any shred of tidiness. �Life is messy,� said the critics, �so fiction should be, too.�

Balderdash, I say. Fiction has more uses than to mirror real life. It�s supposed to take us OUT of real life, help us cope. And as a writer, I can tell you it�s harder to tie up loose ends believably than to leave things messy. Messy takes no skill�that�s why bad literary novels abound. Tidy is hard work.

Still, I seem to be in an ever-shrinking minority. Even romance reviewers now complain if a book or a series ends TOO neatly. There is no such thing to me. I may not be a tidy housekeeper, but I like tidy books.

Anybody else share my love of tidiness in plots? Be honest now, and pay no attention to my crankiness (I AM on deadline). I promise not to judge you even if I can�t share your preference. Do you like all the plot threads resolved? Or do you get a certain thrill out of messiness? Does it depend on the kind of book you�re reading, messy for some kinds, tidy for others?

36 Comments »