Why?

I think if Maia was going to snuggle up that close she could have at least done one of those things that gives me a good blog idea like she usually does. Wait, she kind of did! Maia, you can cuddle close anytime!

News!
First, I have a new book to talk about. Bad Company has been contracted by Samhain Publishing and is going to be a June release. It's been a lot of fun to write—not too angsty so far, though there's angst to come. I put a WIP excerpt up on my live journal here.

I've got a new book coming out December 7, Not Knowing Jack. It's a book about Tony and Jack, the couple who appeared as Sean and Kyle's friends in Regularly Scheduled Life. Like RSL, Not Knowing Jack was a hard story to tell, because it dealt with problems in an established relationship. At least, no one got shot. While I was writing it, people asked me a question I get a lot as a writer. Why? When it's hard, why do you do it? (Okay. The erotic side of my brain is having a field day with that question.) But I really struggled while writing Not Knowing Jack and it wasn't just because I had a contract that I kept at that book. It was because I couldn't not write it.

I love to write. Lots of times it's easy and fun and sometimes I swear the pixies come in overnight and do some amazing stuff on my computer because I know there's no way I was that clever. (The crap is always me, though.) But even when it's not fun and it doesn't flow and I want to reach through my computer and smack one—or both—of my characters, I can't stop. It's like my other job, teaching. I can't seem to stop it. I like figuring things out, and then I have to explain them to people. My students are stuck with me, but miracle of miracles, people actually pay to hear me tell them stories which, I guess, is another way of explaining things.

I hope that wonderful part of the equation never fades away.