Betsy Horvath

Author: Betsy Horvath

  • The Cover Has Landed

    Just a short post today, to say… I have an official cover for the book!!!  And here it is:

    I think it’s pretty darned gorgeous, and I’m very, very excited.  Carina Press always does such wonderful covers…  *happy sigh* (hey, that’s my name on that thing! 😀 )

    I also have official cover copy, and here IT is:

    Katie McCabe’s life is going nowhere fast when FBI Special Agent Lucas Vasco jumps into her car at an intersection. Luc, his undercover guise blown, is on the run from the Mafia and expects to be killed at any moment. What he doesn’t plan on is finding himself attracted to the firecracker beside him. He feels compelled to protect her when her life is threatened, and insists she stay with him for her own safety.

    After learning she has become the target of a psychotic hit man, Katie is whisked off to Luc’s house to hide. Once there, she’s shocked to discover that she and Luc have an unexpected connection—a connection Luc already knew existed, but withheld. Will their intense attraction reach flashpoint despite their misunderstandings and the pain of the past?

    And the official release date is:  September 5, 2011.

    HOLD ME. Coming soon to an e-reader near you.

    Woohoo!

  • For My Father On Father’s Day

    I’ve been writing fiction for years, with various degrees of serious intent.  Sometimes I thought I wanted to become a published author.  Sometimes I thought it was just too bloody much work.

    I was having something of a crisis of faith about 2 1/2 years ago.  I was working on a romance manuscript that never seemed to be finished.  I’d written a number of science fiction short stories that never seemed to go anywhere (mostly because I really wanted to write romance).  My life was too busy, too stressful, and I was too tired.  I had been diagnosed with diabetes.  I had a lot of debt. I was going nowhere.

    Then my father died.

    Until I was about twenty-five, my father and I had a rocky relationship.  I don’t think we understood each other very well.  And the adolescent and young adult years were hard on us.  We’d patched it up, forgiven each other, and moved on.  Then he got sick with Lewy Body disease.

    In case you don’t know, Lewy Body disease is a delightful combination of Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s symptoms.  You can’t think straight. You can’t talk. Your body won’t move properly. But, unlike Alzheimer’s, you actually remember. So you know that you can’t think, or talk, or move. And it’s sneaky. It’s misdiagnosed a lot of the time, so you don’t even know you have it.

    Looking back now, we figure that Daddy had the disease for about 5 years before we even knew there was something wrong.  We thought he was slowing down, that he just wasn’t active enough. We didn’t know that he was really sick.

    Eventually he ended up in a nursing home – his body so stiff and unresponsive that it took 3 aides to get him into bed each night.  He was there for 2 1/2 years before he died.

    After he died, and after the grief had diminished somewhat, I thought about my life.  I realized that I was foolish to turn my back on my writing. I wanted to continue.  I wanted to finish the romance manuscript I’d been dickering around with for years. I wanted to push it to the next level and see if it could be published. I wanted to do it for myself, because life is too short and too precious.  And I wanted to do it for my father.

    Now that manuscript is indeed being published.  I dedicated it to him.

    Happy Father’s Day everyone!

     

  • RWA-NYC

    As some of you may know, I’m heading to New York City in less than two weeks to attend the RWA National conference. And in EXACTLY two weeks from this MOMENT, give or take an hour, I shall be sweeping majestically into the freaking Waldorf Astoria hotel as one of the attendees of the Harlequin black and white ball.

    Um, ‘scuse me?

    In my mind’s eye, I’m wearing a beautiful black dress (because, hello, white dress? Are you kidding me?). I am perfectly coiffed and made up. I walk with elegant ease in mile-high shoes. My skin is flawless.

    And then I see myself tripping and falling on my butt right in the middle of the dance floor.

    The RWA (Romance Writers of America) is the trade group for – wait for it – romance writers. And the national conference is the big enchilda in the romance industry. Very well-known authors will be there. Authors of all levels of experience will be there. Agents and editors from all over the place will be there. The hotel has been sold out for months. The conference itself is sold out, despite difficult economic times. There will be workshops and parties and opportunities for madness, mayhem, and shopping.

    And I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t even see it from where I’m standing. (Hello, comfort zone? Are you there? *crickets*)

    On the other hand, I’m also very, very excited about attending. I’m looking forward to meeting other Carina Press authors and editors I’ve only met through email. I’m hoping that I’m will learn something. I’ll be able to wear a ribbon announcing my first sale and hand out business cards saying that I’m a romance author. I’ll be able to talk about “my publisher”, because I actually will have a book being published. I’ll meet some of the wonderful people at Harlequin.

    So, in two weeks, give or take an hour, I shall sweep majestically into the freaking Waldorf Astoria hotel. I will indeed be wearing a very lovely black cocktail dress (provided by my friend, Bookseller Ann). I will glide across the floor in dress pumps that, although not mile-high, are significantly dressier than anything else I’ve bought in a while. And my skin might not be flawless, but I do have babe-ilicious brown hair – again.

    In other words, I shall look as good as a Betsy can look, and to that look I shall remain true for the entire evening. I shall be the Betsy of the Ball.

    And I’ll try not to fall on my butt.

    Stay tuned for more “Betsy Goes To A Conference” updates in future blog posts.

    Woohoo! New York City!

  • Some Commitment Issues

    *twittering*   *chirping*   *chatter*

    Yo!

    …I KNOW!  I can’t BELIEVE that Brooke Shields…wait.

    *shifts to new browser tab*  Oh.  It’s you. Hello.

    Betsy.

    Blogosphere. What are you doing here?

    Well, I kinda thought we had a…date.

    Did we? *crosses arms*

    Today’s Tuesday.  You know, time for a blog post.  Three times a week, remember?

    I remember.  I’m just surprised that you remembered me.

    Hey, what’s all this? Are you angry about something?

    No.  Why should I be angry. I have nothing to be angry about, do I?

    No, but…Did I just hear you…were you just talking to…Twitter?

    So what if I was? Why do you care?

    Why do I care? You made a commitment. You made a commitment to us. You made a commitment to me!

    I never promised to be exclusive.  Lot’s of people talk to Twitter.  Lots of…authors.

    I knew it!  I just knew something was going on.  First that damn poem about social media and now this.  You’re freaking throwing me over for freaking Twitter!

    Blogosphere! Don’t use that kind of foul language around here.

    Oh, please. Do you even remember the kind of language you used in your freaking book?

    *draws self up straighter* This isn’t about the book.  This is about you and me.

    What the hell are you talking about?

    Twitter interacts with me.  Twitter talks to me.  All the time. *sniff* Besides, Justin Bieber is there.

    I can’t believe this.  I don’t believe it.  You’re only saying this because you can’t think of anything to post today.

    And that’s my point!  Over at Twitter you don’t have to think of things to post.  You just talk about what’s happening right at the moment!  It’s a stream of free communication–

    Yeah, right.  *mimics*  I’m drinking coffee…I’m eating bacon….I’m wearing shoes…

    No!  No, it’s not like that at all!  You make it sound so dirty, so….cheap.  So easy.  It’s really a very beautiful experience and everyone gets together–

    Really?  What was your last tweet?  It was about the bra you bought for the RWA conference, wasn’t it?

    *gasp*  No!  That’s not true!  You’re lying!

    Well, then it was something else equally banal.  *voice softens*  Come on, baby.  You don’t want to leave me, not really.  Do you?  We’re just starting to get going here.  We’ll settle into a routine, I swear. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us.  Don’t leave me for some lousy 140 characters.

    *shifts*  *looks up, then down again*   Well, you’re right.  I can say more here than I can over there.

    Exactly.

    I mean, you don’t place any limits on me.  I can say whatever I want to say and be as long-winded as I like.

    Well–

    And I can be serious, or I can write poetry about coffee or social media, and I can talk about my book, or my cats…

    Well–

    And I can tell you anything!  Anything at all!  Because I know that you care about me!

    Uh huh.  But listen, baby, about the cats–

    No, no, you’re right.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I see it all now. It’s all so clear.  I’ve been such a fool. *takes a deep breath*  Just…just tell me one thing.

    What?

    Can I have you and still have Twitter, too?

    Yeah, baby.  Whatever you need.  Twitter, Facebook, whatever.  Even Goodreads.  Just, you know, keep coming back.

    And if I can’t think of anything to say to you?

    Then make stuff up.

    Oh.  Well, that’s okay then.  That’s what I usually do anyway.

    Do me one favor?

    What’s that?

    Stay away from mySpace.

    No problem.

     

  • Social Media: The Poem

    As social media in all of its many, many, MANY forms has become a major part of my life, I, naturally, felt the urge to write a poem about it. And I am happy to present this fine work of literature to you, my dearest, closest friends.

    PS – note the colon in the title of the poem. When I was an English major we rocked the place if we put colons in the title of anything.

    PPS – please feel free to set this to music if you’d care to.  I think it calls for heavy metal.

     

     

    Social Media:
    A Short Song of the Internet

    by Betsy Horvath

     

    On Facebook I stare at my wall
    and wonder if I know you all.

    I go to Twitter, thence to tweet
    of what I wear and what I eat.

    I think I’ll grab a book or two,
    then head to Goodreads to review.

    My blog post page is blank and white
    I’ve not a clue of what to write.

    I’ll visit other blogs instead
    and comment there on what was said.

    Then check on my email accounts
    (between the five I tend to bounce).

    Social media is good, it’s true
    To keep in touch with all of you.

    But writing I have nothing done
    Except the poem I have just spun.

    So I guess I’d better go turn the internet off now.

     

    Thank you.

  • Self-Challenge Update

    It’s been a while since I posted a self-challenge update and, since I didn’t have anything else planned for tonight, this seemed as good a time as any to do so.

    Goal 1 – write every day

    I’ve written every day since May 30th with the exception of Tuesday, June 7th.  I missed Tuesday because I was completely stressed out from work and my brain was a puddle of mush sloshing inside my skull.  Ah, well.  At least I picked it up again the next day.

    Goal 2 – write at least 1000 words per day, 1500 on the weekends.

    I have written at least 1000 words per day, some days I’ve written more than that.  I have not necessarily written 1500 words on the weekends.  But the first draft is at 41,050 words, so we’re definitely making some progress.  Except for one slight problem…

    Goal 3 – finish the first draft before I leave for the RWA conference on June 28th. (EEEK! – that’s only two weeks away).

    I’m not going to be able to make this goal.

    As you may remember from a recent post, I’ve had some challenges meeting my writing goals recently.  I realized today everything came to a stop because I’m dissatisfied with the direction the WIP has been taking.  It’s not bad, but it’s not…right. It’s like I’m listening to music and some of the notes are just slightly off.  Today I had to admit to myself that I’ve drifted off track, and the drifiting started fairly early in the story.

    I always think of writing a first draft like the basic sketch of a painting.  The colors, the textures, even some of the details, aren’t there yet.  But the sketch gives you the bones of the painting.  The first draft gives you the bones of the book.  Good bones, good book.  But if you’ve got the bones in the wrong place, they’re never going to be what you want them to be.  If I give you blocks and you start to build a house, then change your mind and want to build a bridge, you basically have to knock the blocks down and start over again.

    The good news is that, since I’ve been working with these characters for so long, I know them a lot better now than I did when I started this thing back at the beginning of May.  I’ve lived inside their heads and I have a better sense of them.  In fact, that’s how I know that the draft is sliding in the wrong direction.

    So I need to pick at some threads and unravel a bit and then start again with my better, deeper knowledge of the characters.  Which means that I won’t have the draft finished in two weeks.

    On the other hand, sooner or later – it will be finished!  Then I shall have victory! And I’ll keep you updated on my progress now and then, just in case somebody’s interested. 🙂