I'M VONNIE DAVIS' HUSBAND--AND DAMN PROUD OF IT

Folks, who know me, know how much I love my wife. I often say I didn't start to live until she came into my life. When I tell her that, she gives me that sweet smile I love and asks me if I'm Irish 'cause I sound like I've kissed the Blarney Stone. Then she warms my soul with a hug and a kiss on the neck.

Yup, having that connectedness with someone who is like-minded and who loves you deeply in return is that refreshing pool from which our happiness sprouts. There's nothing like loving and being loved in return.

My wife spoils me in little ways: cooks me the foods I like; lays out a fresh towel and underwear before I shower; shops for me so I don't have to enter a mall (a tip for all you ladies, unless we're going to look at electronics or tools, men do NOT like going to the mall); keeps all my many medicines straight, stocked and in my daily pill holders; has a pot of coffee brewed, strong just the way I like it, as soon as I step out of the bedroom in the mornings; and she never reaches for the TV remote. Hey, some things are sacred to a guy...and remotes are our domain.

Vonnie is the kind of person others bring their problems to; they know she'll listen and offer support. Vonnie is a warm-hearted woman in a cold-hearted world. And she's mine.

She's also a great writer. Her first book came out 2 weeks before its official date of 7/15. If you could have seen her expression when she opened the box full of copies of Storm's Interlude. I'm proud of her for reaching for her dream. She worked. She persevered. She succeeded. I have as much pride in her book as I do my The Phantom Lady of Paris. For when you love someone, that person's successes are yours--we are two halves of a whole, after all.

Yup, I'm married to a writer--and damned proud of it.

MY BOOK IS FINALLY RELEASED!

The estimated publishing date on my contract was November 9th. She's a tad late folks, but The Phantom Lady of Paris is now available.

Surely you can understand my excitement!!

No one ever said the road to publication was easy. I mean, writing the book was the easy part, the fun part. Then came hunting for an agent. I'd queried over sixty before Dawn of Blue Ridge Literary took me on. She believed in The Phantom Lady of Paris and peddled it to oodles of publishers. Finally, Second Wind said, "Hey, we like this!" Edits were easy. But the waiting...ugh! The literary labor pains were horrendous.

If you've ever wondered what Paris was like, really like, allow me to take you there on a magic carpet ride of words.

I'd love to share my experiences sitting at sidewalk cafes and writing for hours, the hiss of espresso machines in the background and a constant stream of humanity flowing by.

Few cities can rival her beauty or her spirit.

The Phantom Lady of Paris is available in paperback and eBook versions at Second Wind Publishing and Amazon.com.



Edtis...Edist...Edits

I knew they were coming; my agent, Dawn Dowdle , told me to expect them--a list of edits the publisher wanted. What would they be? Would they object to a scene and make me remove it? Would they make me change my writing style, my voice?

Would I be required to kill-off my children, those sentences I had labored over, writing and rewriting them until every word, every phrase, every punctuation mark was pickled and penned in blood?

What about the ending for The Phantom Lady of Paris that I'd rewritten until I had it memorized? Surely they wouldn't mess with that...would they?

Would the editor understand the poetry I'd inserted into the prose? Would he get it? Would he enjoy the lyricism of my descriptions of the arrival of both winter and spring in Paris?

I'd worked myself into quite a state, feeling as protective of my literary baby as I had of Kelly when he first started school. I was so apprehensive about the whole ordeal that I asked Vonnie to scan through the returned manuscript and tell me what needed changed.

The editor objected to a few word choices. I write dialog the way people talk: "Lemme tell ya what happened." is now "Let me tell you what happened." Listen to how people talk and I'll bet you'll hear it the first way more so than the second.

Two scenes had to be rewritten. In the first, the editor wanted the ambulance drivers talking in French. Since the book is in English for English speaking readers, lots of sentences in French can prove problematic. But writers are creative souls, so this writer created.

In another scene, a secondary character is telling the main character about a newspaper article. The editor requested that I have the secondary character read the article to the main character. Which meant I had to write a clear and concise newspaper article without the twists and turns of literary phrasing. A doable fix, although a tad boring for my tastes. Now I know why journalism never appealed to me, even though I read three or four newspapers a day.

In all cases, the editor's suggestions and wishes made for stronger scenes. I'd agonized over the edits for nothing. They were few and minuscule, really. And I was grateful for that, for I am now one step closer to publication.