Sunday, November 23, 2008


FINDING HOPE, my new women's fiction novel, will be released December 10 by Wings ePress, Inc. I'd like to share an excerpt, just to whet your appetite.

Janet DeMarco is having one of those days. She feels underappreciated, underestimated, and misunderstood. She accidentally resigns from her job and, when her husband finds it amusing, she posts her resignation to her family on the refrigerator. Janet becomes a blonde, changes her name to Hope, and finds three people who help her realize the blessings in her life: her husband's eighty-year-old grandmother, Carmela (a/k/a Sophialoren), Ricki, a young single mother, and Joy, a homeless woman close to Janet’s age.

Janet learns that, sometimes, our questions about life don't necessitate change, but lead us to own the choices we've already made.

Finding Hope is about the ever-evolving spirit within every woman.

~ * ~

Dear family,

I quit. Effective immediately, I am no longer the cook, laundress, shopper, housekeeper, chauffeur, landscaper, or resident problem-solver. Oh, I’m also not the banker or the ATM. I am, however, the instructor. Classes will begin tomorrow and seating is limited, so you should sign-up early.

A cooking class will be conducted at five-thirty sharp. Bring your inquiring mind and appetite. A cook book will be available. On Saturday, I will offer two sessions--general housekeeping and laundry. Supplies will be provided. However, if you are attending the laundry session, please separate clothing into lights and darks and bring those with you. This class begins at nine a.m. in the basement.

Housekeeping will commence at ten, once you have mastered washing machine settings and drying times. Rubber gloves are recommended for those who have delicate skin or have had expensive manicures recently. Other workshops, such as money-management, will be scheduled as needed and announcements will be posted. Don’t be late and get left out in the cold.

Janet R. DeMarco, Wife, Mother, Person
(not necessarily in that order)

~ * ~

To read reviews of FINDING HOPE, as well as excerpts and reviews of my other books, visit my website:


Friday, November 14, 2008

Turning off your editor

It's that time of the year again--leaves are falling, the days are short, and NaNoWriMo is in full swing. Ah, yes, that month of total insanity when writers set impossible goals and drink gallons of coffee in a vain effort to meet them.

Well, I've given in to the insanity, once again. Well, why not? The first book I wrote during a NaNo challenge is due for publication next month. How hard can it be to do it again?

Apparently the two years between NaNo challenges have lulled me into a false sense of hope. As a writer, I like to think I keep learning with every manuscript I finish. My critique group is more than willing to help with my education, too. Through the process, I've developed an internal editor--that voice that is constantly correcting me--line by line, word by word. I've dubbed her my 'infernal editor'.

So, you can imagine the conflict of trying to write 50,000 words in one month while a little voice in your head constantly says, "No, no, no. You absolutely cannot change point of view here."

I had a little talk with my infernal editor when I decided--at eleven p.m. on October 31--to accept the NaNo challenge this year. I told her she'd won a contest and would be taking a little trip to the Caribbean. Oh, she was so excited--and so gullible.

Well, she's gone now. I'm free of her constant nagging. I can write anything I want, any way I want, and she'll never know.

I'm 17,000 words in, as of this writing, and I have the rest of the weekend before me. My laptop may explode. The moment I feel like giving up, I look at the cover for Finding Hope--my last NaNo manuscript that comes out on December 1 with Wings ePress. That gets my creative juices flowing again!

Oh, if you see my infernal editor and she asks about me, tell her I'm learning to belly dance.

For those of you who are also burning up the keyboard this month, good luck.

Now, back to work.