I went to Disney World this summer for a few days after the RWA conference. I had not been in a very long time. Half a lifetime, in fact. Much was as I remembered it, but it took me a while to get in the spirit. The thing is, in order to really enjoy Disney World, you have to become a little kid again.

So I did, more than I thought I would. I insisted on doing rides that I knew would make me sick now, and let myself be mesmerized by the 3D stuff in some of the shows.  But what fascinated me were all the adults I saw who really turned back into little kids completely. They were really into it. They wore their Mickey ears all day. They talked to each other like Donald Duck. They clamored to be photographed with the characters walking around. They were as happy as any child in the park, but many of them were not with kids, aside from themselves.

This got me thinking about the parts of me that are still a kid. There are ways I have never given up that side of me. There are expectations I have and routines I require that are still those from my childhood.

I still expect Christmas to be magical, and am still a little deflated when it is over, for example. Just like a little kid. If there is a good snow I want that sled ride, even if it will take a crane now to get me up at the bottom of the hill. And, right now, this very day, I am going through all the end of summer/beginning of school mixed emotions that I had as a child. Part of me is frantic that freedom is slipping away, and part of me is relieved to be getting back to a “normal” routine and new experiences.

I suspect that my careers drew me in part because the kid in me saw a chance to stay alive. I still have a school year in my day job, and every year I live that calendar of activities and vacations we knew as children. And as a writer, I not only have a job that is a series of beginnings and ends instead of one long seamless stretch, but I also get to indulge my imagination—-just like a little kid.

What makes you feel like a little kid again? Do you insist on doing certain things certain ways so that you will feel like one?  

Is there someone with whom you can happily regress back to childhood?

 Can you still talk like Donald Duck?

****I am giving away an ARC to Sinful in Satin, my forthcoming book (9/28/2010) to one poster today

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“A picture is worth a thousand words.” The proof of that cliche was driven home to me this week when I received a precious gift: A restored photo of my late father holding me in his arms when I was practically a newborn.

You see, it came about like this. My mom was cleaning out old files and found a very small 2″X3″ snapshot of my dad and me in my grandmother’s scrapbook. So Mom mailed it to me to add to my baby book, which she had also recently handed down to me. (I think she’s bent on “getting her affairs in order” so she’s tackling long overdue projects like file sorting.) Anyway, that snapshot was faded and grainy and nothing special.

Then my dh went to work with some great new Photoshop software, enhancing the color and pixels of the image, reducing the tint of old age, and blowing it up to 4″X6″ size. Then he printed the restored version on photo quality paper and handed it to me.

Now, I’m not usually sentimental or nostalgic, but that restored photo brought tears to my eyes. You could just see the love and awe on my father’s face as he gazed down at the little sleeping bundle of humanity that he had helped to create. At the time, my dad was in his early twenties, not much more than a kid himself, and he’d just returned from a war-time tour of duty. But that photo captured a very special moment in his life.

I love the fact that software can recreate and improve old and new photographs alike. I love that I can e-mail the digital version of that photo to my family. I love that I can send the restored, printed, framed photograph to my mom for her birthday. And I especially love that I now have a memory of my dad that I’ll always cherish.

Do you have any favorite old photos? Any new photos that have special meaning for you? Any uses of technology that have helped you preserve special moments in your life?  Any Kodak moments that got away because, drats, you didn’t have a camera handy?

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I’ve been traveling again. This summer has been filled with trips, with one still to come. Most have been for work or family obligations, but last week I returned from the trip that qualifies as my summer vacation.

DH and I went to the Baltic Sea and visited several cities there. Stockholm, Helsinki, St. Petersburg, and Copenhagen were among them. Last fall we stumbled upon a cruise line practically giving away cruises. They advertised two for one, airfare included, and a huge credit to cover on-board purchases and excursions. It was one of those rare cases when it was too good to be true, but was still true. The only time we have ever scored a better deal was when, as a young married couple, we went to Paris on an Airfrance package where they all but paid us to come over.

Since the dear sons would not join us, it was an even better bargain. The only fly in the ointment was that none of the cities were on my list of places that I really wanted to visit. In fact, DH had suggested a similar tour a few years ago and my response was “you go if you want to.”  But I don’t mind visiting places that are not on the list if it is relatively cheap. So I had no real expectations about the cities themselves but figured it was a great way not to cook for a while.

Rarely have I visited places so unprepared and ignorant of what I would find. As a result, I was surprised a lot. Delighted by discoveries.

Stockholm is a beautiful city, with parks and a charming old town section. Helsinki looks like I could live there even when it is dark all winter. St. Petersburg is dripping in history and 18th century palaces. Even the little port of Warnemunde, Germany surprised me. It is a seaside town much like you find on the Jersey shore, only much more adorable and picturesque, with flowers growing all over cottages and a mile long beach.   And everywhere, there were canals.  More in some cities (Stockholm and St. Petersburg) and fewer in others, but even little Warnemunde had one.

The trip was much more interesting than I expected, but the experience was not perfect. For one thing, we sailed into a heat wave that would not quit (yep, over there too). These northern cities do not expect weather like that, and have spotty air-conditioning, especially in the museums. I sweated my way through more palaces than I can count. It was a minor inconvenience, however, for ten days of surprises.

Do you have a list of places you want to visit? What cities or places are at the top of it?

Have you ever visited a place and been surprised to like it much more than you had expected?

      Anyone who posts will be entered in a drawing for a signed ARC of my Sept. 28 release, Sinful in Satin.

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I love family traditions now, but when I was a teenager, I hated them.

I hated visiting my aunt’s “every freakin’ Sunday” (my 14-year-old words) where we’d sit in her living room and do the unthinkable … talk. No teevee, no radio, no walkman … nothing but talk, talk, talk.

As a teenager, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less.

As I grew older, though, I grew to love those chats and to even recreate them in my own kitchen with my own kids. No teevee, no radio, no ipods … nothing but talk, talk, blissful talk.

When I was a kid I also hated having to take turns with my sisters and brothers and do household chores. They never seemed to end and oh, sheesh, NOTHING was as boring.

Now, oddly enough, I enjoy certain household chores. Nothing makes me grin like folding a load of clean, warm towels and sheets. There is something comforting and orderly about it and I cherish it.

Other chores, not so much. But folding warm, clean laundry? Move out of the way and let me get to it!

As a kid, I hated having to sit in the car for five entire hours as we traveled to my grandmother’s house. The trip was far too long, the company (my brothers and sisters) were sitting way too close, and I tended to get carsick. Worse, my dad hated to stop for ANY reason, including food, water, and bathroom breaks.

Now, I love the drive to my grandmother’s house, (though I make sure we stop plenty of times along the way). The road wends through parts of Virginia, and the eastern part of Kentucky and is a stunning drive as we pass by blue rivers, sparkling lakes, and blue-green mountains. I can’t imagine a more peaceful way to spend an afternoon.

Do you now like certain family traditions that once seemed to onerous to enjoy? Which ones? Why did you hate them? Why do you like them today? And do YOU love the smell and feel of warm, clean laundry, too?

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So, I was surfing the web (Yup, that’s a symptom of the dreaded Deadline Disease) and I read an article on CNN.com about the REAL difference between Cat People and Dog People. It’s based on a study by a psychologist from the University of Texas at Austin.

First of all, the research indicated that people tend to gravitate toward the animals they were raised with. So, if you were raised in a home with a bunch of cats, then chances are, you have cats now that you have your own home. No surprises there, hm?

However, according to the article, it turns out that “dog people” tend to be more social and outgoing, whereas “cat people” tend to be more neurotic but “open,” which means creative, philosophical, or nontraditional in this context. Dog people scored significantly higher on extraversion, agreeableness and conscientiousness measures.

And for a bit more from the same article:

Beyond personality characteristics, people may have physical features in common with the animals they like or own. A study by researchers Michael Roy and Nicholas Christenfeld found that participants could match photographs of owners to their purebred dogs about 67 percent of the time, based on appearance alone.

Of course, now we’re looking at the old chicken or the egg question – which came first? Did you buy a dog that looked like you, or did you and your dog start looking the same after sharing one too many bowls of Cherry Garcia?

Fortunately, researchers decided that no, you don’t grow to look more like your dog or cat as time rolls on. Instead, you tend to purchase animals that have similar traits. For example, women with long hair tended to like long haired dogs whereas women with short hair tended to like dogs with shorter hair.

Pretty interesting, hm? Personally, I was glad to know I’m not going to start looking more and more like my dog even though he’s cute . . .  for a dog.

What about you? Do you consider yourself a Cat Person or a Dog Person? And by the way, this isn’t based on what you own (sometimes that’s determined by your living conditions), but on your personal preference. Do the personality traits suggested by the article’s author match you and your pet preference? And have you ever seen a dog or cat that looked so much like their owner that you wondered if perhaps there was a genetic link somewhere in the distant past?

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Yesterday, I was in the grocery store and I saw a young couple shopping together. They must have been on a strict budget because they had a list and were adding up the cost as they went. After they’d checked out, the young woman reached for the bags, but the young man took them all and gave her the most adorable lop-sided smile.

She smiled back — just a quick smile. But I heard it all the same; a silent “I love you.”

The post office held their canned food drive in my neighborhood last Friday. I’d forgotten about it, so I was setting my bag out just as the postal carrier was collecting the bag from next door. The cutest little girl lives next door to me. Her name is Emily and she came staggering out with her bag of canned food and handed it to the postal carrier.

When Emily went back inside, her mother held the door open for her and said, “That’s my girl.” in the lowest, sweetest voice. It made me a bit verklempt because I’d heard it again, the silent “I love you.”

My dad used to love his old 50s music. He’d play “On Blueberry Hill” over and over, dancing with me and my sister, trying his best to teach us the stroll. Of course, we were too little to remember the steps. In fact, the only way we could dance with him was if our feet were on top of his as he swung us up and down the living room.

When I think back on those giggle-filled hours, I smile. There were a lot of silent “I love you”s in those dances. I just never realized it at the time.

I adore the silent “I love you.” When’s the last time you witnessed one? How do you say the silent “I love you” to the people around you? How do your favorite people say it to you?

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(Author’s announcement: LOIS LANE TELLS ALL, my latest Glory, NC book, hits the shelves today!)

I’m addicted to PROJECT RUNWAY and about every show on HGTV. These are not shows that will change society or improve mankind … they’re shows about people who know how to sew really, really well, or know how to redo kitchen cabinets without it costing an arm and a leg.

Do you know why I love these shows? Because I love the passion these people have for their specialties. They LOVE what they do, and it shows.

Several years ago, I met a woman who devoted herself to saving abandoned animals. Not just cute puppies or fluffy kittens, but aged turtles, crooked iguanas, cats with no tails, sick parrots, shy ferrets, feeder rats, one-eared rabbits, dogs with no teeth … you name it and if it was pet-like or had the potential to be pet-like, she rescued it. She even had a rescue tarantula. She spent all of her spare money on food and vet care, worked hard to rehabilitate and train these animals so others could adopt them, and put a lot of her life on hold providing for them.

To many, that would be an onerous responsibility. To her, it was as natural and easy as breathing because she was passionate about it.

I admire that. It’s important that all of us find something – or some things – in our lives to be passionate about, things we can throw our hearts into and shake the dust from our souls.

Naturally, all of us would say that we’re the most passionate about our families, which is wonderful. However, to be balanced, there should be other passions in our lives as well.

For me it’s my job and my house.

I left the safety of a normal-job-with-benefits to give this you-have-to-be-crazy writing gig a try and I love it. Even when I’m up at three in the morning and I’m wrestling with a particular scene that is fighting me tooth and nail, I still love this job and find that I have endless energy and fascination. I’m always trying to write stronger characters, develop better and more multi-layered plots, and– well, the list is endless. And so is my determination and energy, all because of my passion for this process.

It’s that simple.

As for the house, I was a nomad for almost 15 years and now I’ve settled down and I am passionate about making my home an oasis of calm and comfort. The day we bought it, I walked around each room and touched every wall and door and window, unable to believe they were ours … that thought still makes me grin like a loon.

Passion allows our individuality to take flight, it hones our creative skills, and energizes our lives. The things we’re passionate about may not save the world or even a life, but they had depth, color, and an undefinable richness to our own.

What about you, my lovely goddesses? Besides the obvious things — your kids, your dh, your family – what are you passionate about and why?

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