Hockey! And, oh yeah, Writing Report

Quote Du Jour:
“That thing, that moment, when you kiss someone and everything around becomes hazy and the only thing in focus is you and this person and you realize that that person is the only person that you’re supposed to kiss for the rest of your life, and for one moment you get this amazing gift and you want to laugh and you want to cry because you feel so lucky that you found it and so scared that that it will go away all at the same time.”
–Josie, Never Been Kissed

Warning: Long-winded post on my love affair with Hockey

Thank the maker, Hockey is Back. I thought I would go mad if it didn’t return this season. Because there’s just something about big tall hunky men on skates (of COURSE I watch it for the men.. DUH.. I am female? LOL But I also love love love the game).

I hate to admit this, but I got hooked on hockey because of my ex-boyfriend. I was between husbands at the time (yes…this is my second marriage…long story), and he had lived up north and played (I forget where. I want to say in the New York area, but I can’t recall…he was one of those ex’s I try very hard to never think about…). Anyhoo… he didn’t play professionally or anything, just amateur-for-fun hockey and so he was really really into the game. Well, I live in Texas and there ain’t no hockey down here. Until the Minnesota Northstars moved down here and became the Dallas Stars in the early 90s. We could go to the games for as little as $30 a ticket (of course, now they are too expensive to even consider, damn it all). So he would drag me to the games which – if you live in Dallas and remember – were in the crappy Reunion Arena with the horrible uncomfortable seats. Who wants to sit there for three hours? Who cares? And beer was $10 for a cup that was half foam.

But something happened to me. I got hooked. I started watching the game and understanding the rules and getting into it. I ditched the boyfriend but kept the game. I fell in love with the sexy men who were fearless, who would play with broken wrists and ankles and bad backs because they loved they game. They are tougher than any football player on the planet (i.e., Deion Sanders, aka Golden Toe…lol). I stopped watching football (which is stupid anyway and we refer to the Cowboys as the Cowgirls… and ol’ whats-his-face changes coaches more often than I change my underwear).

The year the Stars won the Stanley Cup, I watched. I was riveted to every game they played that season. I read the recaps every morning after every game, even though I watched every minute. Friday and Saturday games became “hockey and beer night” and Husband and I would order a pizza, grab a six pack, and watch the game together.

When they went into the playoffs without Derian Hatcher, we were worried. We didn’t know how they would fare without Big Mean Man keeping the other guys in check. (Incidentally, that was the year Hatcher broke Roenick’s jaw – retaliation for Roenick going after Modano.)

The Stars made it through Round 1 and Hatcher game back for Game 2/Round 2. My Husband said to get us tickets so we could see Hatcher’s returning game. He said to “get the best seats” I could. So I did (he just didn’t expect them to be well over $100 a ticket…yeah, I was in trouble, but I followed his instructions to the letter – get the best seats I could. So I did. He laughed and forgave me, but he knew from then on to give me a cash limit. LOL). We had hellacious seats, about 13 rows up from the glass at the face-off circle. They were playing the St. Louis Blues.

The Stars won that year, went on to play the Sabres for the Cup. Won in Game 6 with a goal from Brett Hull. A controversial goal, too. I’ll never forget that night…watching the game until the very end (and it was a LOOOONG one… I think they went into like three overtimes). I remember thinking how tired those guys must be. But when they won and the Cup was theirs, I shed a tear. The only time I’ve ever cried for a sporting event (and the last, mind you, unless the Stars with the Cup again).

So that’s my little hockey story. Are you bored to tears yet? Or are you still with me?

Back to writing
Words on the WIP: 25,627. YES! I broke the half-way mark. WOOHOO!

It was a productive day.

This WIP is on fire. I tried desperately to work on the romance serial yesterday, but the nagging feeling of the WIP brought me right back to it. TADA! I broke the 25K mark. I’m half way there. Think I can get 25K done in the next 17 days? I don’t know if I can either, but I’m sure gonna try.

One of the reasons I enjoy writing (and reading) romance, is that buoyant feeling of falling in love. That first time feeling you get with the first brush of a lip. The feeling that all is right with the world when you get your man (or woman). The happily ever after (HEA). The black moment leading to the HEA and you wonder if they WILL end up together (even though you know they will because it is, after all, a romance). The emotional tug you get when you have two really wonderful characters and never being able to forget them when the story is done.

That’s what I love about a good romance.

I was talking with a good friend the other night on the phone and she asked me what was the first book I read that made me want to write.

I thought I’d share that here.

There are two, actually. The first was Victoria Holt’s The Road To Paradise Island. It was the story of a girl who found a hidden room in her family mansion – the hidden room being a girl’s room – and a secret journal. Oh…I loved this book when I first read it. It made me want to read romance from then on. I think I was about twelve.

The second book was Patricia A. McKillip’s The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, first published in the 1970s. It was about a sorceress with a menagerie of talking animals. I loved this book and it made me want to write fantasy.

I was lucky to have a mother who had oodles of books. I read Elswyth Thane, the Little House books, and Victoria Holt. I was also lucky to have a father who was a movie buff. So I saw tons of old movies. Everything from John Wayne to Humphrey Bogart to Cary Grant. With classic leading ladies like Greer Garson and Ingrid Bergman and Maureen O’Hara. Gone With The Wind is still one of my favorites.

Over the years, I dabbled in writing. My first novel sucked. It was a science fiction about a young girl who gets transported into another realm. A world far and away from her own. I wonder where that manuscript is. It was handwritten, over 200 pages, front and back. I can’t find it to save my life. I’d love to read it today, just to compare to where I am.

And I guess this post is LONG enough. Got a little carried away there with my hockey story, didn’t I? Now I have to go write two issues of the romance serial. I’ll reward myself with more work on the WIP if I can get those done and turned in.

By Michelle

I wish you all could be inside my head. The conversation is sparkling.