tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4195904919944715552024-03-12T20:00:30.551-07:00Julia AmanteJulia's hang out to chat with readers and friends.Lara Rioshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16665453548130258973noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-46167769886795051322012-12-23T00:00:00.000-08:002012-12-23T09:29:48.578-08:00Believing in Christmas Miracles<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L2CmNyEuQ60/UNacgZgcRCI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/DWdWmNCqYpc/s1600/blue+jay.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L2CmNyEuQ60/UNacgZgcRCI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/DWdWmNCqYpc/s320/blue+jay.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> The best part of Christmas to me is that for a few weeks there is a belief in goodness, that all is possible, and that magical things can happen. Christmas movies on TV leave you with a warm feeling as you allow yourself to believe in Santa and Angels, and that the magic of Christmas can transform people for the better. I feel like this year, we need those feelings and beliefs more than ever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My contribution to the Holiday Blog Tour is a very rushed attempt at a magical Christmas story, but I hope you enjoy it. </span> </div>
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Sydney
drove the tight curves of the San Bernardino Mountains, her knuckles almost
white with the grip she had on the steering wheel. As she approached each turn, she slowed and
kept her eyes glued on the white broken center line, afraid that if she looked
to the right and saw nothing but the flimsy railing separating the road from a
massive drop into oblivion, she’d throw up.
She hated mountain driving and was grateful that at least, this was
California and even though it was almost Christmas Eve, there was no snow.</div>
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She had one
last delivery to make. The Christmas
season meant non-stop work for Sydney’s gourmet cookie and cup cake company. She promised Christmas delivery, even if
ordered on Christmas Eve as long as it was local. Most of her customers ordered with enough
time to ship, but every year there was someone who called Christmas Eve morning
and begged for delivery of their special cranberry oatmeal cookies or
scrumptious gingerbread men or red velvet cup cakes - that day.
She wasn’t expecting to drive up a dang mountain tonight though.</div>
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As she
turned off Highway 18 into the little town of Blue Jay she noticed a change in
the weather. A slight breeze made the triangular
flags wave at a corner gas station, and there was a distinct chill in the
air. She decided to stop and fill
up. On Christmas Eve, it wasn’t likely
she’d find many gas stations or anything else open later. She pulled the company SUV up to the
pump. “Damn,” she said, when she noticed
it wasn’t a pay at the pump station.
Everything at the station looked like it hadn’t been updated in a couple
of decades. She went into the small
convenience store and the guy behind the counter was laughing at a Sienfeld
episode.</div>
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She stared
at the TV for a moment, remembering when she lived with her girl friends in
Long Beach in the 90’s and how sometimes after work or college or dates gone
bad, they’d sit together and watch Sienfeld and eat ice cream. Those had been good times. She didn’t talk to her friends very often
anymore. After Bridget was killed in a
car accident – her date had been drunk – she and Clair had never felt
comfortable living together, and after a bitter fight, Sydney moved out. </div>
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“Hey, can I
pay for gas, please,” Sydney said.</div>
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“Oh, sure,”
the guy, distracted took her money, glanced at the fifty dollar bill, then back
at her with a frown. “How much do you
want?”</div>
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“Just put
it all on pump one.”</div>
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“Lady this
is a fifty.”</div>
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“Yeah, it’s
all I have so it’ll have to be enough.”
She went back outside and began to fill up. She crossed her arms at the chill in the air
and leaned on the side of the SUV. She
watched the numbers on the pump spin and noticed that the price per gallon was
$1.25. Narrowing her gaze, she wondered
if this was joke. It cost her $20 for
sixteen gallons of gas. </div>
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She went
back inside to get her change. “How do
you manage to sell gas so cheap?” she asked.</div>
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“It’s
actually a little high, but we’re in the mountains. Everything cost more up here.”</div>
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Sydney
laughed. “High? I paid $3.98 this morning in L.A.”</div>
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“Right,” he
said, and smirked. “Here’s your change.”</div>
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Sydney took
the money, mystified by his strange behavior, but she had to deliver these
cookies and then make a long drive home, so she left. Driving through residential roads there were
more twists and turns than on the highway, and the GPS’s change in directions
confused her. The female voice kept
re-routing. The electronic woman seemed
more lost than Sydney. </div>
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Then
surprisingly, a few flakes of snow began to fall on her windshield. She drove slowly around the bend of the street
and thicker snow began to block her view; coming down seemingly faster and
thicker the farther she went, reminding her of when she’d visited Universal
Studios with her parents and the tram went through a flood zone. Off to the sides, pipes created a sudden
rainstorm that made it appear to flood the road. This was what it felt like on this road. She wanted to look up to find out who was
shooting fakes snow at her. But the
trees and road were turning completely white.
When she reached an intersection, she was stopped by a police car
blocking the road ahead. She rolled down
the window. </div>
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“Sorry,
Ma’am, the road is closed until plowing can be done. Probably until morning.”</div>
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Sydney
laughed. “How can you need to plow, the
snow just started. And around the
corner, there isn’t any snow at all.”</div>
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“It’s been
snowing for days, Ma’am.”</div>
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<i>Days?</i>
“Look, I just have a delivery to make.
Maybe you can help me find the address?”</div>
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He shook
his head. “Sorry. If you turn around and make two rights,
you’ll find a coffee shop that might be open.
You can get warm and call the person you’re trying to deliver to and let
them know you can’t make it tonight.”</div>
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“I have my
cell.”</div>
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“You’re
what?”</div>
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“Never
mind.” She made a U-turn, cursing the
officer, the snow, this frustrating night, and the customer that waited until
the last minute to order the cookies.</div>
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She found
the coffee shop and after ordering a cup of coffee, called her customer. At first the phone rang without an answer,
but when she tried a second time, a man answered the phone. “Hi, I’m from Heaven Sent Gourmet Cookies,
and I’m having a difficult time delivering the cookies you ordered.”</div>
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“The
cookies, I . . . ? Sorry, but I didn’t
order any cookies.”</div>
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“Maybe your
wife ordered them, but –.”</div>
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“I don’t
have a wife. If this is some kind of
joke –.”</div>
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“It’s no
joke.” Sydney checked the phone number
to make sure she dialed right. “I’m
supposed to deliver five dozen cookies to 29658 Tulip Drive. Someone called in an order this
morning.” She hadn’t taken the call, but
her employee had been with her for five years and practically ran the business
alongside Sydney. </div>
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“That’s my
address, but I didn’t order cookies.
Where are you now?”</div>
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Sydney told
him the name of the coffee shop.</div>
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“I’ll be
there in about thirty minutes.”</div>
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Sydney
drank all her coffee and cradled her head in her hands. What a way to spend Christmas Eve. Not that she had anyone to spend it with, but
it would be nice to be home where at least it was warm and not snowing. She lifted her head and looked out at the
beautiful white drape of snow, an untouched and powdery dusting that covered
the outside. All looked fresh and clean
and magical. Maybe it wasn’t quite so bad after all.</div>
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The waitress
re-filled her cup and offered her a piece of pumpkin pie that she accepted. Moments later, a man entered the coffee shop,
their eyes connected, and he began to approach Sydney’s table. But the pie in her mouth suddenly became a
clump of cement. She couldn’t swallow
it. Sydney was looking up, into the face
of the man who killed Bridget. He was
younger, not drunk, but it was him.</div>
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“Are you
the cookie lady?”</div>
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“You’re a
sick jerk. How did you find me?”</div>
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His eyes
widened and he sat across from her. “You
told me where you were, what do you mean how did I find you?” He waved for a cup of coffee. “You’re right about those roads. I almost didn’t get through, but I took a
side street that wasn’t blocked.”</div>
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“Are you
trying to tell me that you don’t recognize me?”</div>
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He
grinned. “Nope. I’m trying to think of who might have ordered
the cookies, but I don’t have a clue.
Since you came all this way, though, I’ll take them off your hands.”</div>
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“I’m
Bridget’s friend.”</div>
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“Who’s
Bridget?” He frowned. “Look, I was very comfortable on my couch
watching President Clinton light the Christmas Tree in the White House. I didn’t need to come out here, so you might
try being a little nicer.”</div>
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Sydney
stared at him. <i>President Clinton lighting a tree in the White House?</i> She looked around at what people were
wearing. Thought about the cheap
gas. Something odd was happening. “Clinton was in the White House?” She asked,
afraid of his response.</div>
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“Yeah, the
news was covering it. So where are these
cookies?”</div>
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“In my
car. Did Obama invite Clinton to light
the tree?”</div>
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“Who?”</div>
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Sydney
slipped out of the booth, freaking out.
“Obama, our President.”</div>
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“Clinton is
the President, lady. What’s wrong with
you?”</div>
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She shook
her head and hurried outside. Snow
continued to fall and she almost slipped on the iced-over sidewalk. She stood beside her SUV, breathing deeply. What the hell was going on? </div>
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The guy
followed her outside, a confused look in his eyes.</div>
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“You dated
my friend, Bridget. You went out to a
party and drank too much. You crashed. She
died. You lived. Clinton left office in 2001, by the way. Our President is Barak Obama.”</div>
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He moved
closer, snow dusting his head. “What are
you talking about?” He asked, in a harsh whisper, as if afraid to hear her
response. “It’s 1996. Clinton doesn’t leave office until next year
– and then only if he fails to get re-elected.
And I don’t know who the hell Bridget is.”</div>
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Sydney’s
head spun as if blood flow or oxygen was being deprived. Had she driven though some time warp? She didn’t understand any of this. Why, of all people, was she coming in contact
with . . . “your name is Rick.”</div>
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He
clapped. “You got one thing right.”</div>
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She
hurriedly reached for the file on the driver side of her truck and looked at
the invoice. No name under customer. But the man in front of her was Rick Ortiz, the
man who killed Bridget . . . except, he hadn’t yet. She looked at him. Opened the passenger door to the SUV. “Get in for a moment.”</div>
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He seemed
unsure, but he got into her vehicle.</div>
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“Listen to
me,” she said. “Have you ever wished you
could go back in time and change something? Reverse a mistake? Fix something?”</div>
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“Sure.”</div>
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“Okay, I
don’t understand how this happened, but I’ve gone back in time. In a few months, you’re going to meet my
friend, Bridget. You’ll really hit it
off with her and on the Fourth of July, you’ll go to a party, drink way too much
and get in an accident.”</div>
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“The
accident where your friend gets killed,” he said.</div>
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“Yes.”</div>
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“And how do
you know this?”</div>
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“Because
it’s already happened.”</div>
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He stared
at her, then burst out laughing. “So,
you’re from the future.”</div>
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She closed
her eyes and shook her head. <i>Yes, that sounded crazy</i>. When she looked at him again, he was still
smiling. “Listen, all I know is that
when I got up this morning it was December 24, 2012, and I drove here to
deliver cookies to you, and now here I am and you’re telling me it’s 1996.”</div>
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His smile
slipped. Then disappeared. “<i>Twenty-twelve</i>?”</div>
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“I don’t
know what is going on. It doesn’t
matter. Can you just promise me that
when you meet Bridget, you won’t drink and drive . . . ever. But especially on the Fourth of July?”</div>
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He
shrugged. “Yeah, okay, sure.”</div>
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“You
swear?”</div>
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He looked
at her like she was crazy. “I promise.”</div>
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“Good. Good.”
She sniffed the cold air. Then
reached into her bag and handed him the bill for the cookies. </div>
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He took it,
looked at it and gasped. “Eighty-six dollars and twenty-five cents? For cookies?
Lady, you’re crazier than I thought.
Is this some kind of scam?”</div>
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“It’s five
dozen cookies, plus fifteen percent delivery.
The price is on our website . . . .”
None of this was making any sense to him. It wasn’t making any sense to her. What did cookies cost in 1996? And who cared what they cost <i>then</i>, it was 2012! “Never mind.
Just take them.”</div>
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“Now you’re
going to give them to me for free?” He
lifted an eyebrow.</div>
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“Yes, just
take them so I can go home.” She got out
of the truck and carried the boxes around to the passenger side of the truck. When he got out, she handed him the boxes.</div>
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He took
them and gave her a twenty dollar bill.
“Keep the change,” he said, then with one last long perplexed look at
her, he turned away and got into his car.</div>
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Sydney
drove down the mountain slowly, carefully.
The snow became less heavy as the elevation dropped. After a few miles, there was no snow at
all. She was relieved when she made it
all the way down and got on the freeway.
Finally, she felt like things were back to normal. As she drove, nothing looked different. Shopping centers were the same as always with
the typical modern stores she was used to seeing every day.</div>
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When she
made it to her apartment she breathed a relieved sigh. She wanted to take a warm shower and go to
sleep. But when she opened the door, her
friends were inside having drinks and eating snacks.</div>
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“Sydney!”
Bridget said. “You’re finally here. Now, the party can really start.”</div>
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Sydney
couldn’t believe her friend was really standing in her living room. Alive.
Older. But alive. Her other friend, Clair was there too. And her employee, Darla, who ran the cookie
store so well, but who never visited her house.
They were all very at home in her apartment. Sitting on her couch. Walking out of her kitchen. Hugging their boyfriends. Then Rick walked out of her bathroom. He looked older too. “Hey, Syd,” he said. “What took you so long?”</div>
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She stared
at him. “I had a delivery in the
mountains.” </div>
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He
smiled. “Oh, yeah?” He put an arm around Bridget’s waist and
kissed her cheek. “How did it go?”</div>
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Sydney felt
like this was a dream, but sincerely hoped not.</div>
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“Get her a
drink, Rick.”</div>
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He nodded
and turn toward her kitchen.</div>
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“I’ll get
it myself,” Sydney said, and followed him.</div>
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He poured
her a glass of wine and handed it to her.
She took it and gazed into his eyes.
“I delivered cookies to you.”</div>
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He
smiled. “What?”</div>
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“Rick, I
just left you a couple hours ago. Don’t
you remember?”</div>
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“A couple
of hours ago I was waiting patiently for Bridget to finished getting dressed so
we could come over.” </div>
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“You don’t
remember me delivering cookies to you in the mountains?”</div>
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“Are you
talking about when we met? When you
brought me those cookies in that snow storm and told me that crazy story about
being from the future? Hey, you said it
was 2012.” He chuckled. “That still makes me laugh.” He pushed off the counter and headed out of
the kitchen. Then paused. “What I’ve never been able to figure out
though is how you predicted I’d meet Bridget.
Or the name of our current President.”</div>
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Sydney
gazed at him. </div>
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And he at
her. “I never did find out who ordered
those cookies and sent you to me. Maybe
it was just a Christmas miracle.”</div>
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That was
exactly what it was. Sydney’s eyes
filled with unshed tears, and she smiled. A Christmas miracle.</div>
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<o:p> <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I wish you a magical holiday with your own miracles! </span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Please share the link to this blog on your favorite social media and leave me a comment below that you've done so. I will have a drawing on Christmas day for one of my books. The winner can choose either <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Evenings-Argentine-Club-Julia-Amante/dp/B0048EL92W/ref=pd_sim_b_2" target="_blank">Evenings at the Argentine Club</a></i> or <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Say-Youll-Mine-Julia-Amante/dp/0446581631/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1356240371&sr=8-1&keywords=say+you%27ll+be+mine" target="_blank">Say You'll Be Mine</a></i></span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Julia</span></o:p></div>
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<b>Be sure to follow the blog tour tomorrow with Icess Fernandez Rojas at: http://www.writingtoinsanity.com/</b> </div>
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<b></b></div>
Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-5289964152793721222012-11-16T03:00:00.000-08:002012-12-05T20:30:04.515-08:00Holiday Blog Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7IBh_kEAJtI/UKFPPoeypwI/AAAAAAAAAp4/4-2mg5tZy1c/s1600/Holiday+Blog+Tour+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7IBh_kEAJtI/UKFPPoeypwI/AAAAAAAAAp4/4-2mg5tZy1c/s320/Holiday+Blog+Tour+2012.jpg" width="291" /></a></div>
Every year, I participate in a holiday blog tour for many reasons. First, because it gives me the opportunity to try something different. Second, because this time of year is my very favorite, and so really, what can be better than to write about it? Third, because it gives me the chance to share the holiday with other writers and readers. I enjoy reading other people's posts as much as writing my own. I hope you look forward to it as well. <br />
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Some writers have nice gifts and give aways during these blog tours so it's fun to check in and leave comments and join in the holiday fun. I will definitely be giving away one of my books as a prize!<br />
<br />
Here is are the dates of the tour and the artists participating:<br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>Holiday Blog Tour Stops</strong>Dec. 7 <a href="http://jasmineclementetheartist.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Jasmine
Clemente,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Jasmine
Clemente</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
8 <a href="http://silenceandhoneysuckle.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Gwendolyn
Jerris<span style="white-space: pre;">, S</span>ilence & Honeysuckle<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></a><br />
Dec.
9 <a href="http://www.audaciouslady.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Nathasha Alvarez,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>AudaciousLady</span></a><br />
Dec.
10 <a href="http://unsolicitedcertainties.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Regina
Tingle,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> U</span>nsolicited
Certainties <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></a><br />
Dec.
11 <a href="http://www.caridad.com/blog" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Caridad Pineiro,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Paranormal
Romance Author Caridad Pineiro</span></a><br />
Dec. 12 <a href="http://www.sententiavera.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Teresa Carbajal Ravet,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sententia Vera<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></a><br />
Dec.
13 <a href="http://natashaoliver.com/Natasha_Oliver/2_cents/2_cents.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Natasha Oliver, 2 cents</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
14 <a href="http://www.howmanyfrogs.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Stephanie Dorman,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>How Many
Frogs</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
15 <a href="http://www.klabeau.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Karen La Beau<span style="white-space: pre;">,</span> My Life on Canvas</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
16 <a href="http://themongaconfesses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Annette
Santos,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Monga
Confesses</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
17<a href="http://www.zoraidawrites.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;"> Zoraida Cordova,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Zoraida
Writes</span></a><br />
Dec. 18 <a href="http://kristyharding.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Kristy
Harding, Kristy Harding</span></a><br />
Dec. 19 <a href="http://morepurplehouses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Nikki Kallio, Purple
Houses</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
20 <a href="http://lovesujeiry.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Sujeiry Gonzalez,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Love
Sujeiry<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></a><br />
Dec.
21 <a href="http://www.sam-poet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Samantha Kolber,
Sam Poet</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
22 <a href="http://www.theliteraryself.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Thelma T.
Reyna,<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Literary
Self</span></a><br />
Dec. 23 <a href="http://juliaamante.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Julia Amante, Julia Amante</span></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
Dec.
24 <a href="http://www.writingtoinsanity.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #298bd5;">Icess Fernandez
Rojas</span></a><br />
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I can't wait!<br />
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JuliaJulia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-53229185668239556642012-11-02T01:00:00.000-07:002012-11-02T10:02:47.179-07:00Growing up in New Mexico<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b3_hMGMunMI/UJP1MYWzO_I/AAAAAAAAApo/VRFsnTUKmNI/s1600/sandra+ramos+OBriant.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" qea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b3_hMGMunMI/UJP1MYWzO_I/AAAAAAAAApo/VRFsnTUKmNI/s1600/sandra+ramos+OBriant.jpeg" title="" /></a>Today, my guest blogger is Sandra Ramos O'Briant, author of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0615615104/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0615615104&linkCode=as2&tag=juliaman-20"><span style="color: blue;">The Sandoval Sisters' Secret of Old Blood</span></a><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: blue;"><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=juliaman-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0615615104" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0px;" width="1" /> </span></span><span style="color: black;">- a book about runaway brides, arranged marriages, adultary, witchcraft, and much more.</span></div>
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I read an interview that Sandra did with The Latino Books Examiner and was intrigued with her research and her life in New Mexico, and asked her to talk more about this part of her life.</div>
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<strong>Sandra</strong><br />
I had two distinct childhoods, with slight overlap. When my parent's were married, I took dancing, piano, swimming, and even accordion lessons. We had a piano. I attended a private parochial school, and my dad bought a set of Encyclopedia Britannicas when I entered first grade. My mom told me I was beautiful and smart, and I believed her. More importantly, she didn't work outside of the home, and while my dad traveled for business, mom counted out 100 pennies from a giant Schlitz bottle-bank almost every day so we could go to a matinee. We saw all the glorious classic movies of the 40's and 50's there, many of which featured heroines like Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Crawford, Lana Turner, Ginger Rogers and Rosalind Russell. I was the only child until my brother was born when I was 7-years-old, which also coincided with my parent's divorce. My mother got all the furniture, me and my brother, and a lifetime of hard work and sexual harassment. She was 31. My dad got self-indulgence, selfishness, and self-interest. I still loved my father, and began to resent my mom. Nothing made sense. <br />
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<a href="http://astore.amazon.com/juliaman-20/detail/0615615104" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; height: 325px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; width: 225px;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" qea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gyqg8Qh9lXU/UJAs7pm6mjI/AAAAAAAAApY/LQW8djxrLSo/s320/SScover7.jpg" width="224" /></a>After the divorce, Mom moved back to Santa Fe. We ate dinner at my grandparent's home most days. The Gallegos were strange. Both my grandmother and aunt were paraplegics, so every suppertime included two wheelchairs. My grandfather cared diligently for my grandmother; he sat her on her bedpan and emptied it, wiped her butt, wheeled her to the dining room table where he washed her face, and brushed and braided her hair. He made her every meal, and wheeled her back to her bedpan (chamber pot) when she needed it. So he seemed like a good guy, but he was an alcoholic and pedophile. My aunt was especially interesting. She could swing her legs up over her shoulders, and even crook them at the knee to provide a headrest. She did it in one fluid motion like she was a member of Cirque du Soleil. When she left them sticking straight out, I'd often crash into them and knock off her ballet slippers (I was only 7 or 8), which covered only three toes on each foot cause that's all the toes she had. Other than that, she had quite a bit of sexual allure from the waist up and attracted male admirers, especially from the VFW. It's all so weird, but even more so in the telling. Sounds sort of carnivalistic. And it was. I missed my mom. And what had passed for normalcy back in East Texas, which wasn't all that normal. In the bathroom back there, my dad had pasted up these pictures of Vargas girls (google them), so they were an early influence. Beautiful girls. He drank a lot and beat the dog. And my mom. <br />
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I started first grade at the age of 5. They let me into St. Rita's because I could already read. With the divorce and the move to Santa Fe, I attended a barrio school catty-corner to my grandparent's house. On the first day of 4th grade, I walked onto the gravel-strewn playground and approached a line of students waiting to go inside. They were a ragtag group. None of the girls wore petticoats (this was 1957-58), and their dresses hung limply down their dirty legs. Most didn't wear socks. One boy picked his nose. This turned out to be a kid named Tom Glass who had allergies. He wiped his snot on the wall of the school. My mom and I had carefully picked my outfit. Not only were my skirts plumped with a starched petticoat, but I had lace-trimmed socks with patent leather shoes and a purse to match. Mom had twisted my hair into Shirley Temple curls. I smiled big and said, "Hi, y'all." Remember, I had just moved to NM from East Texas. Silence. They laughed and picked up gravel to throw at me. After that, I had to stay close to the teacher on patrol during recess. To make matters worse, I was academically ahead of everyone in my grade. <br />
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Mom got a job as a cocktail waitress and worked 10-11 hour shifts at night. She was exhausted and not up to see me off to school. Within weeks, I looked like everyone other kid in my grade and lost my accent, but I still had that onerous O'Briant last name which made me a target. Wanna-be chollas attacked me all through grade school and jr. high. One bright year was 7th grade when I got to go to St. Francis school. They gave my mom a break on tuition because our neighbor worked as a teacher there. One of my proudest days was when I was told I had to wear glasses. All the smart girls wore glasses. After 7th grade, my choices were either another barrio jr. high or a private parochial girl's academy. We couldn't afford the latter. 8th grade at Young Jr. high was the beginning of my absentee-daydreaming-nightmare school years: I rarely went to school. My only saving grace was that I read, and read, and read everything the Public Library would allow me to check out. I missed so much school my mom thought I'd be a drop-out. She did nothing to forestall the inevitable. Her hands were full with making a living and my bratty younger brother. We could no longer communicate. I blamed her for our misfortunes and for being gone from my life and since my dad was absentee, I idolized him. Mom and I fought. I moved out a lot. Mom always took me back. I had all the symptoms of depression, except suicide. There seemed no hope and no way out for me. <br />
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Five good things happened in my school years: 1.) The girls in my neighborhood all stayed inside their homes, but my mother put no restrictions on my outdoor activities and I was allowed the full glory of tomboyhood. I played baseball w/the boys, rode my bike all over Santa Fe, climbed moving freight trains and jumped off, explored all the dark storm drains looking for treasure and/or dead bodies, climbed trees and built cardboard treehouses, created snow ramps on discarded car hoods to use w/our sleds. The last four of these were all my ideas and the boys followed my lead. 2.) Mom worked at a popular restaurant and jazz club owned by a renowned lesbian. Two of her patrons, another lesbian couple, gave me a subscription to National Geographic. I learned that there was life beyond the narrow confines of Santa Fe. 3.) A young male friend of my mom's was traveling to Spain to study flamenco. He gave me lps (vinyl records) of Gershwin and Ravel and Mozart. 4.) A girl's club opened up and even though Mom wouldn't let me take free piano lessons because she said the teacher was a lesbian, I've held close to my heart that woman's endorsement of a never realized talent. 5.) My senior year I confronted my Algebra II teacher after class for picking on me. I was frightened, but very angry. Didn't notice the girl sitting over in one corner. She was the class valedictorian and became my friend. No one had spoken to me about college, either at home or at the school. Gloria told me all I needed was a 2.0 to get into UNM. She took me w/her family to the financial aids office, and she became my first roommate there. <br />
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College was simultaneously tough and glorious. Hard because I had no discipline, didn't know how to write an essay, had a hard time following instructions, and my daydreaming, while it had kept me alive and away from big trouble in high school (boys, drugs, and driving fast), now threatened to drown me: I'd miss whole sections of lectures. The glory came from no one, almost, knowing who I was. O'Briant didn't matter. I was still weird and isolated and my social skills were severely lacking, but it was 1966 and everything was cool. Also, in those days you could be a liberal arts major and not worry about any future employability. I was curious and interested in everything, and fortunately all the reading I'd done while not attending middle and high school helped me. <br />
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I am so grateful for the tremendous opportunity I received. Worlds opened up for me, but I was still very frightened of people, and forced myself to speak up more in class. I went to graduate school because I wasn't sure what else to do w/myself, but I'd finally conquered academia. U of Texas and Arizona State U both accepted me, but ASU offered more money. In retrospect, I see that I needed more growing up time and graduate school provided that. I have a masters in secondary education, but I've never used it. My life went in another direction.<br />
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<strong>Julia</strong>: Sandra, shared with me that often time people romanticize New Mexico, but that growing up there (as she's shared) was rough. There weren't civic programs for the youth and if you were poor, exposure to the arts was no where to be found. I thank Sandra for sharing what it was really like growing up, because I think our past and childhood has a lot to do with what we choose to write about as authors. Sandra shared, "I will point out that it's (the above interview) in stark contrast to The Sandoval Sisters (except for the mob scenes) and accounts for my sharp sense of irony, which I also make use of in the story. It doesn't include my mom's silly sense of humor, which I often found embarrassing, but which I've thankfully inherited. Pilar (the tomboy character in my book) is a bit like Mom . . . and me. The sisters represent the female trinity in my thinking: maiden, mother and crone. When you've lived through them, you discover that they're not distinct. Layered is more like it."<br />
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It's a fascinating book and I wish Sandra lots of success! Click below to purchase your copy. You may visit and or contact Sandra at: <a href="http://www.thesandovalsisters.com/">www.thesandovalsisters.com</a><br />
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Hugs,<br />
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Julia<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=juliaman-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&asins=0615615104&ref=qf_sp_asin_til&fc1=000000&IS2=1&lt1=_blank&m=amazon&lc1=0000FF&bc1=000000&bg1=FFFFFF&f=ifr" style="height: 240px; width: 139px;"></iframe>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-19074895396462002582012-10-27T15:52:00.002-07:002012-10-27T15:52:59.646-07:00Read it, Now what?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Earlier this month, I had the pleasure of being invited by <a href="http://lascomadres.org/">Nora Comstock</a> to attend a panel at the Hispanic Women's Corporation event in Arizona. As she introduced our author panel, she explained to the audience the importance of supporting Latino authors. "Support the authors by purchasing their books," she said. "Then when finished reading the books donate them to a library, do not give them to your friends." <br />
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I've heard the support your Latino authors call before. I've said this many times myself, because it makes sense; we have to support what we want to see in our market place. Business continue to make more of what customers want and discontinue what customers don't buy, and publishing is a business even if we authors don't want to think of it that way. So, if we like stories that have Latino themes and characters, we have to purchase these types of books. But I had never heard anyone tell readers of how to dispose of their books once they were finished reading them. Maybe because I rarely get rid of my books, I hadn't thought of it. When I do get rid of books, I actually DO tend to donate them to a library. All books, not just Latino books.<br />
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This helps the most people. It helps libraries with extremely low budgets have more books in circulation. It helps those who can not afford to buy a book, read great books. And it helps the authors, because more people are reading them.<br />
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Another good idea is to find a senior center or hospital that stocks books and donate them there. I've also taken a stack of books with me on vacation and depending on where I stay - if they have a library, I will leave books there if I can stand to part with the book.<br />
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The idea is to share your favorite authors with others - especially if it's a little known Latino author so that more people will become familiar with that author and hopefully buy their books.<br />
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Happy Reading!<br />
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Julia<br />
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Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-88296865500937226082012-06-22T21:00:00.001-07:002012-06-22T21:04:08.885-07:00Great Writers<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sylvia Beach Hotel</td></tr>
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After a three year adventure in an MFA program, I finally finished and graduated with a degree that says I'm qualified to write. Probably, more accurately, qualified to teach. I think the majority of MFA graduates end up teaching or maybe working at a publishing house in all sorts of positions, I don't know. I'm not sure how many actually go to write.<br />
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I'm sitting now, at the Sylvia Beach Hotel in Oregon. I came here 23 years ago with my then boyfriend who proposed to me in the library of this "writers" bed and breakfast. Each room is themed - the Hemingway room, the Agatha Christie, the Amy Tan, and so on. I was so enchanted with the hotel back then - I wasn't yet a published author, I was barely a writer. Now, here I am again, with my husband (yes, the guy that proposed to me in the library) celebrating our 22nd anniversary and my MFA, and I'm wondering what does it take to be a great writer. <br />
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It doesn't take an MFA - though it gives writers opportunities to experiment and learn what to do and not do. It doesn't take vacations to writer's hotels, though it's definitely inspiring and relaxing and provides lots of time to think. I sometimes wonder if being dead is the magic that transform an okay writer to a great writer. Or just stupid luck. Really, I don't know. <br />
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The university world doesn't believe any commercial writer is great or even good. All the authors on the best seller lists are lousy and their millions of readers are a bunch of people with poor taste according to them. And all those lovers of commercial fiction and their editors and publishing houses don't seem to think much of the great literary writers coming from the university MFA programs, because those books are rarely published and when they are, they barely sell.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hemingway Room</td></tr>
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So, after all this time, I really don't know much, I guess or I've realized that greatness is really someone's opinion. I think I'm less concerned with being a great writer and more interested in simply telling stories that matter to me. That's what I've been doing and probably what I'll continue to do. Maybe my greatest novel will begin tonight on this rainy evening on the Oregon coast as I sit surrounded by Hemingway's books.Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-72722255939036339032012-06-01T15:45:00.002-07:002012-06-01T15:52:02.665-07:00You Must Read This<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
A while back NPR asked me to write an aritcle about a book that influenced me. The title of the column is called "You Must Read This." As often happens in publishing, they never actually published the article. The book I chose was <em>How to Be a Chicana Role Model</em> by Michele Serros. </div>
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Tomorrow, I'm attending a commencement that The Association of Latino Faculty, Staff, and Students puts on for all CSUSB graduating students, and Michele Serros is the key note speaker. I'm thrilled to get the opportunity to meet her. So, I figure, this is a great time to finally publish the article I wrote about her. </div>
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You Must Read This:</div>
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I read <em>How to Be a Chicana Role Model</em> the year I published my first book, <em>Conquest</em> using my pseudonym, Lara Rios – a book that featured Latino characters. I have to admit that I am not a Chicana. Neither did I feel an urge to become a role model, but something about the title drew my attention. Maybe because at the time, I was a teacher and knew that Latino kids had very few, if any, role models. <br />
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Instantly, Michele Serros had me smiling and realizing that somehow I picked up a book that would change the way I wrote and what themes I chose to write in future books. I loved her style, and for the first time began to question if it was possible to write fiction about Latino realities. Stories that spoke to other Latinas and portrayed our culture the way it really was – not worse, not better – but authentic.</div>
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In one of the vignettes, Serros writes about being a teenager and overhearing a friend tell a guy they befriended over a CB radio that Serros had a wide, Indian nose. Feeling betrayed, Serros leaves without saying good-bye to her friend, but then spends years pinching her nose to make it more attractive and look less Indian. These are the type of stories that are subtle, and yet touch readers deeply. Who hasn’t had the experience of having someone carelessly say something that ends up hurting our feelings or affecting how we perceive ourselves. I have. Immediately, I related to that story. <br />
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But what I loved about this book was that it wasn’t a book about how bad it was to be a Chicana. It wasn’t a book about injustices or prejudices. She gives us stories like the one about her nose, yes. But she also shares stories about how Latinos treat each other. She tells how a Mexican Fly-girl on the set of In Living Color treats her like trash, because she doesn’t want to be seen with a less successful Mexican. Another funnier tale is her continual quest to get an honorarium she was promised by a Latino professor. And my favorite story was about her family all going to see Madonna play Evita as Michele reminds her relatives that they promised their struggling actor Uncle Charlie on his deathbed not to support films that cast non-Latinos for Latino roles. Her family though, full of excuses, defend Madonna and go off to see the film, leaving Michele home alone wondering how it happened that her family so easily transferred their allegiance to celebrities.</div>
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How to Be a Chicana Role Model is a work of fiction. Or is it? It’s written in first person, the narrator being Michele Serros. In a witty conversational tone, Michele takes readers through events that feel real and leave you wondering if she made all this up or if it really happened. The truth is that it doesn’t matter, because each of her vignettes could have happened to any Latina. This is what made it such a special book to me -- the universal nature of the character and the stories. Years later, as I write my own books, I remind myself that I want to make my characters specific, but their issues and challenges universal enough that when the reader closes the book they feel I wrote the book specifically for them. This was Michele Serros made me feel and why over ten years later, her book still sits on my shelf.</div>
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JuliaJulia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-66333307101650888662012-02-17T15:00:00.000-08:002012-02-17T15:00:03.368-08:00Pictures from The Hike<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A9lwdX-wdJ8/Tz7RhmqMB7I/AAAAAAAAAnE/ZHPMYO6g_9I/s1600/hike%2B1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710231752795752370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A9lwdX-wdJ8/Tz7RhmqMB7I/AAAAAAAAAnE/ZHPMYO6g_9I/s200/hike%2B1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>I thought today, I'd share pictures of the hike I took a couple of weeks ago. It was a couple of miles long and tomorrow I am planning on accompanying my son and his boy scout troop on a 10 mile hike, which might turn out to be more than I can handle, but I'm going to try anyhow.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dnRjMGUMjOc/Tz7Il2UtFQI/AAAAAAAAAlk/nHQwi-_Us3Q/s1600/hike%2B2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710221930115437826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dnRjMGUMjOc/Tz7Il2UtFQI/AAAAAAAAAlk/nHQwi-_Us3Q/s200/hike%2B2.jpg" /></a><br />However, the hike connected to these pictures that I'm sharing today was short and peaceful. I think there's a perception of writers as people who spend a lot of time alone and that's true to a point. We have to actually sit behind a desk or table, our fingers on the keys of a computer and write the stories in our heads. That requires that we spend time alone thinking, planning, and writing. But outside of the"office" when the computer is s<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQ320WWL7p4/Tz7RNl7EjeI/AAAAAAAAAm4/aKAgfpatC7k/s1600/hike%2B7.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710231409000746466" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQ320WWL7p4/Tz7RNl7EjeI/AAAAAAAAAm4/aKAgfpatC7k/s200/hike%2B7.jpg" /></a>hut down, most authors tend to have a full social life. This is true for me too, so when I get the chance to be alone or do something like go on a hike where I can ha<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zxc1eC0SWoo/Tz7JS6zt1iI/AAAAAAAAAmI/eu41i8xKQRg/s1600/hike%2B8.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710222704413365794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zxc1eC0SWoo/Tz7JS6zt1iI/AAAAAAAAAmI/eu41i8xKQRg/s200/hike%2B8.jpg" /></a>ve time to notice the colors of trees, the songs of birds or even the sound of my own breathing, I'm thrilled. Suddenly I remember to call people I've wanted to chat with, or a conversation I had suddenly returns and I realize that though I heard what that person said, it didn't penetrate until that second. Or I might simply realize that I need to spend more time exercising so that I'm not so winded the next time. </div><br />At the time I went, there weren't many people out on the trails. It was chilly and I ac<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DenKWsf3il0/Tz7JmdCtvGI/AAAAAAAAAmU/jz89dKZ6bS4/s1600/hike%2B9.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710223040020593762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DenKWsf3il0/Tz7JmdCtvGI/AAAAAAAAAmU/jz89dKZ6bS4/s200/hike%2B9.jpg" /></a>tually thought maybe I was too alone as I read the signs warning that rattle snakes and mountain lions have been seen and can appear suddenly. Being the smart girl scout leader that I am, I promised myself that next time I'd bring someone along with me. Having time to think and enjoy nature is great, but being safe is pretty important too.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-movZfQgisKw/Tz7I4O6tgCI/AAAAAAAAAlw/gKcrQq5LzXI/s1600/hike%2Bbench.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710222245954945058" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-movZfQgisKw/Tz7I4O6tgCI/AAAAAAAAAlw/gKcrQq5LzXI/s200/hike%2Bbench.jpg" /></a><br />The nature trails are part of the Wildlands Conservancy in Oak Glen. They are mostly very easy trails and perfect for families with small children. Great picnic spots are available throughout and wonderful benches like the one pictured on the left can be found with views of lakes.<br /><br />I'm planning a return trip with my girl scout troop.<br /><br />Tomorrow with the boy scouts is going to be more challenging. Wish me luck!<br /><br />Julia </div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-60442982015219979352012-01-27T06:59:00.000-08:002012-01-27T07:22:22.428-08:00Happy Trails<A href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CIAEjvOMdvo/TyLApiYXj0I/AAAAAAAAAkg/SUJsjud1Ias/s1600/Hollyburn_Mountain_Trail.jpg"><IMG style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702331898040651586 border=0 alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CIAEjvOMdvo/TyLApiYXj0I/AAAAAAAAAkg/SUJsjud1Ias/s200/Hollyburn_Mountain_Trail.jpg"></A><br /><br /><DIV>I've had this urge lately to go on a hike. Nothing crazy, but just to walk out in nature. I think there is something restorive about being outside, breathing fresh air (which isn't an easy thing to do in California), and getting away from the normal rhythm of life that has most of us cooped up inside some sort of building. </DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV></DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV>So instead of going out and finding a place to hike, I surfed the web instead (okay, I was actually looking for easy trails close to home) and found sites like <A href="http://www.healthymagination.com/blog/the-top-ten-health-benefits-of-hiking/">this one </A>that talks about the benefits of hiking. The list wasn't surprising. It improves cardio vascular performance, muscular strength, bone strength, helps you burn calories, etc. But I sort of believe the benefit goes beyond just the physical. Being outside and listening to bird calls or the sound of your feet crunching on leaves and twigs; watching clouds drift across the sky or the sun rise and set; feeling your own heart beating a little harder than it normally does makes us appreciate the beauty of nature and wonder of our amazing planet. </DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV></DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV>I found a blog of this guy who decided to hike everyday for a year. Supposedly he did it and still maintained his job and family. For me, I think I'll just resolve to go on a hike this weekend. I'm almost positive I'll return to my writing with renewed energy and desire to sit at my desk again, rather than staring out my window at the mountains and wishing I were out there instead.</DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV></DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV>Happy weekend!</DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV></DIV><br /><br /><br /><DIV>Julia</DIV>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-9205334829130710092012-01-09T09:52:00.000-08:002012-01-09T10:02:29.423-08:00Interviewed by The Latino Author<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J5AfBTaVUJ4/Twsrhy4XQII/AAAAAAAAAkI/CA3EEhUyw6M/s1600/Book%2Bcover%2Bshot%2Btiny.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695694013333979266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J5AfBTaVUJ4/Twsrhy4XQII/AAAAAAAAAkI/CA3EEhUyw6M/s200/Book%2Bcover%2Bshot%2Btiny.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Stop by <a href="http://http//www.thelatinoauthor.com/featuredauthors/Amante-Julia/">The Latino Author</a>, a great website for writers. This week, I'm thrilled to be their guest author and an interview has been posted.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Have a fantastic week!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Julia</div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-54490224362703587452012-01-06T08:02:00.000-08:002012-01-06T10:23:57.297-08:00Time off for a writer<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cw4xtRHbY5Y/Twcnosu16II/AAAAAAAAAi0/Pwy60iTYnRE/s1600/DSCF1620.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694563833989163138" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cw4xtRHbY5Y/Twcnosu16II/AAAAAAAAAi0/Pwy60iTYnRE/s200/DSCF1620.JPG" /></a> The end of my three weeks off comes to an end. Really, my children were the ones that got three weeks off from school. For me it was going to be a time to read and write mostly, but I had a long list of things I would do with them, things I would for myself, and lastly for my home.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ciiDK-FOHqs/Twcxp9QLCXI/AAAAAAAAAjY/SH46yT7QgwQ/s1600/DSCF1838.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694574850720074098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ciiDK-FOHqs/Twcxp9QLCXI/AAAAAAAAAjY/SH46yT7QgwQ/s200/DSCF1838.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Holiday shopping (check)<br />Put up Christmas decorations (check)<br />Take down Christmas decorations (check)<br />Holiday cooking (check)<br />Take kids to the movies (check)<br />Take kids swimming in Palm Springs (check)<br />Take kids to visit friends (check)<br />Take my daughter rollerblading (check)<br />Volunteer at the Aquarium of the Pacific with my daughter (check)<br />Go on a bike ride with my son (check)<br />Take the kids to Castle Park Amusement park (check)<br />Spend time with friends (check)<br />Read for fun (check)<br /><br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pzhFjO1KC2w/TwcmwjtGyeI/AAAAAAAAAio/GlJF4KKpQGI/s1600/DSCF1851.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694562869493287394" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pzhFjO1KC2w/TwcmwjtGyeI/AAAAAAAAAio/GlJF4KKpQGI/s200/DSCF1851.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;">Then things beging to fall apart<br />Clean out the garage (sort of check)<br />Write everyday (yes, but . . . does a sentence or two count?)<br />Finish my parital to get it to agent (sort of check)<br />Clean my office (never happens)<br />Update my website (...)<br />Organize my girl scout paperwork (...) </span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sbEgS8U_LDA/TwcvPnLe9-I/AAAAAAAAAjM/8EJIEjaU3Z4/s1600/DSCF1485.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694572199094974434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sbEgS8U_LDA/TwcvPnLe9-I/AAAAAAAAAjM/8EJIEjaU3Z4/s200/DSCF1485.JPG" /></a> Well, the list goes on and it's too depressing to think about all the things I didn't get done. So, I begin my work week which always begins on a Friday for me feeling like I sort of wasted the last few weeks "off", but looking back I realize that for a work-a-holic like me I only feel like I've wasted time, because I didn't get a lot of chores done. And I'm realizing that I don't understand the concept of taking time off. I actually DID accomplish that goal and I had a great time with my kids and friends. And to be honest, I wouldn't trade any of that time for a clean garage or house.<br /><br />Now<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T2xa_ZiWLpo/Twc6JkXopZI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CaoJXaLuPuQ/s1600/working%2Bin%2Boffice.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694584189889324434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T2xa_ZiWLpo/Twc6JkXopZI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CaoJXaLuPuQ/s200/working%2Bin%2Boffice.jpg" /></a>, it's back to work. The best part of getting back into my office is being able to focus on my current novel and move it back up to the top of my priority list. I've got new productivity goals and a bit of catching up for all the things I didn't do, but I'm ready to tackle them all.<br /><br />Hopefully, for me and you, the new year begins not with a list of resolutions, but a continuation of a plan that brings us closer to becoming the people we enjoy being.<br /><br /><br /><div>Happy New Year to all,</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Julia</div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-36846664931861204402011-12-16T06:26:00.000-08:002011-12-16T06:54:38.277-08:00Have You Read Say You'll Be Mine?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I8oyMxRQvz0/TutWNpt9IoI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/-697Gdu385w/s1600/B%2526N%2BFlash%2Bmob%2B039.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686733747022275202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I8oyMxRQvz0/TutWNpt9IoI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/-697Gdu385w/s320/B%2526N%2BFlash%2Bmob%2B039.JPG" /></a><br />In the spirit of the holidays and gift giving, I thought for today's post, I would say thank you to those of you who purchased and read Say You'll Be Mine. I hope you have or are enjoying it.<br /><br />As you might have guessed, it's a book that looks at the difficulties and joys of motherhood. I sometimes think back to the days before I became a mother, and though there were many great times and life experiences I'm grateful I had, motherhood brought out a whole new side of me. I'm constantly thinking about what would make my children happy, successful, fulfilled, and what I can do to improve myself to be a better role model.<br /><br />Moms are not the only ones who feel this intense love for their kids or who grow as a result of parenthood. Nick, the male lead in Say You'll Be Mine isn't based on any one man I know, but rather all ther great fathers I've been lucky to know. My husband, my brother and brother-in-laws are SUCH shining examples of what fathers should be. My kids and nieces and nephews are so lucky.<br /><br />So Say You'll Be Mine is a nod to all the moms and dads out there raising great kids in our complex world.<br /><br />Now, for the gift. Since posting images isn't an option on blogger comments, if you have a copy of Say You'll Be Mine, take a picture of yourself reading it and post it <em>somewhere</em>. Facebook. Twitter. Your own blog. Where ever. Then copy the link in the comments below and I will enter you in a drawing to win a $20 B&N or Amazon gift card.<br /><br />The winner will be chosen on Christmas Day.<br /><br />Thank you for your support this year!!<br /><br />JuliaJulia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-85413077205935149582011-12-09T13:01:00.000-08:002011-12-09T13:07:29.438-08:00Are You Following the Holiday Blog Tour?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H6JisB0kjf4/TuJ4gH0Q6xI/AAAAAAAAAiA/aTN2ZuH0am4/s1600/Holiday_blog.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H6JisB0kjf4/TuJ4gH0Q6xI/AAAAAAAAAiA/aTN2ZuH0am4/s200/Holiday_blog.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684238172944395026" /></a><br />Today, I'll just encourage you to follow all the great stories and blogs of my fellow writers on the Holiday Tour.<br /><br />Up today is <a href="http://www.latinabookclub.com/2011/12/holiday-tour-its-all-about-music-enter.html">Maria Ferrer</a>. Her terrific site helps to promote Latina/o authors so if you're not familiar with her blog, you're missing out. <br /><br />"The Latina Book Club's goal is to promote Latino authors and literacy by reading at least one Latino book a month. Thereby broadening our minds and corazones. It's also an attempt to embrace our Hispanic heritage; make new friends; and have something to read on the subway. Join us! Read Latino! <br /><br />Enjoy!<br /><br />JuliaJulia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-72571933590825916762011-12-01T00:01:00.000-08:002011-12-01T00:01:00.133-08:00A New Beginning<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m1rkhe8kF_U/TtchtFRt2hI/AAAAAAAAAh0/rRBHj-ZAWSM/s1600/Holiday_blog.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681046513345485330" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m1rkhe8kF_U/TtchtFRt2hI/AAAAAAAAAh0/rRBHj-ZAWSM/s200/Holiday_blog.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>After brainstorming ideas for a Christmas story that would do justice to the 2011 kick-off blog tour, I’ve decided not to write a “story” at all. Instead, I’d like to share with you a real story of a Christmas I will never forget. This was the year that I learned how much I valued being a mother.<br />I was teaching elementary school at the time and I was fortunate enough to get two weeks off for Christmas and New Year. I was looking forward to the time off to be home with my husband and son whom I had adopted only six months earlier. I wanted our first Christmas as a family to be special. Let me take you back there.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.coolholidaygraphics.com/christmas/" target="_top"><br /><img border="0" src="http://www.coolholidaygraphics.com/christmas/dividers/garland-red-ribbon-488x174.gif" /><br /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My son’s birthday is in December and we have a huge party for him. There are so many toys in my living room that I can barely walk. Everyone wants to hold and play with him, which is great even if I barely get a chance to be with him that day as I run around making sure everyone is eating, drinking, and having a good time.<br />At the end of the day, I’m worn out. So is the baby. He falls asleep early and wakes up later that night crying. I figure he’s just been over stimulated and I calm him down. But by morning I begin to suspect he has a little cold.<br /><br />For the next couple of days I give him medicine and endure his cranky mood, hoping he’ll feel better soon. He seems to get better, then worse. He coughs and gets frustrated when he can’t breathe due to congestion. Then his fever starts.<br />I decide to take him to the doctor since the over the counter medication isn’t working. He’s given antibiotics and I’m told not to worry about the fever.<br />“It means the body is fighting the illness,” I’m told. “Continue to give him Advil.” Then I’m encouraged to give him his one-year-old vaccinations, which to me seems like a crazy time when he’s so miserable already, but I figure the doctor knows all and I know nothing, so I agree.<br /><br />On Christmas Eve as we’re preparing to have company, I hear the baby wake up from his nap screaming at the top of his lungs and crying.<br /><br />I put down the wrapping paper in my hands and hurry up the stairs where I hear a lot of movement coming from his crib. When I turn on the light, my stomach does a flip when I see the baby having convulsions.<br /><br />I immediately call my husband who comes running into the room, takes one look, and runs back out to call the paramedics. Then the baby stops moving and I pick him up. I don’t even realize I’m crying until my husband runs back in to wipe my eyes and tell me it’s going to be okay.<br /><br />But I’m not sure. My son is staring straight ahead at the ceiling. I can tell he’s alive but he’s not reacting. Between sobs I talk to him and try to get him to look at me. But there is no response.<br /><br />I hear sirens and a few minutes later two paramedics are taking the baby out of my arms. They ask questions about him. I answer, but I can’t remember what they asked or what I said. They advise that we take him to the emergency room and we do.<br />By now, my son is beginning to come out of wherever he is, but he acts like he’s extremely tired. We wait in a hospital room as nurses walk in and out. A woman from a charity group pauses at the door and offers me a gift for the baby. She tells me that they spend every Christmas Eve passing out gifts to sick children. I take what she gives me, but it makes me cry to think that my son is spending his first Christmas in a hospital.<br /><br />They run many tests on him. He might have meningitis they tell me. I don’t know what this is, but they ask if they can do a spinal tap to check. I don’t know what this is either, but they explain that they extract some spinal fluid to determine why he had a seizure. It could be a tumor, inflammation, an infection – all possible causes.<br /><br />“The procedure will take five to ten minutes,” the doctor explains.<br /><br />They make us sign a form with all the risks. I’m scared to death. After the procedure he has to lay flat on his back and not move. I start to feel nauseous. I’m picturing the worst case scenario and just the thought of a needle being inserted into my perfect little baby’s back fills me with a crazy kind of panic.<br /><br />When they begin the procedure, I’m supposed to be holding the baby on his side.<br />“What if you do something wrong and he’s paralyzed for life?” I ask.<br /><br />They reassure me that it can’t happen. My husband and I hold my son and I close my eyes for a second, then focus on his tired face noticing that he seems to have little reaction to a needle being inserted between his vertebrae.<br /><br />Afterward, he has to lie on his back for thirty minutes. I sit beside him and rub his chest and talk to him. Eventually he falls asleep and the nurse tells my husband and me that they will keep him overnight, but that we’re welcome to go home and come back in the morning.<br /><br />“I’m not leaving,” I say.<br /><br />“You’re welcome to stay,” she says and leaves.<br /><br />My husband tries to convince me to go home.<br /><br />“You go.” I remember that we were supposed to have company over for Christmas Eve. “You need to call everyone and let them know--.”<br /><br />“Your mom already did all that.”<br /><br />I nod. My husband kisses the top of my head and tells me he’s going to go home and pick up the diaper bag, a change of clothes and he’ll be back in a few hours.<br /><br />I spend the night staring at my baby, watching him sleep. I can’t remember all the thoughts I had that night, but I do remember thinking of Margaret, our social worker and her words to me when I first got a picture of my son. “This is the child God wanted you to have.” At the time, I felt it was over dramatic and I smiled, because she was being kind and I thought it was her job to say things adoptive parents wanted to hear. But I no longer think it was a crazy thing to say. I believe her.<br /><br />That night, as the two of us spent the night together, he sleeping and me watching him, I knew he was my child and I knew I was meant to be his mother. I’d worked hard to become a teacher, but being a teacher no longer mattered. Being a best-selling author someday was irrelevant. Anything I might have thought was important in the past, paled in comparison to this little baby that needed me and that I loved. He was the only one in the world I wanted to spend Christmas Eve with, and when he opened his eyes on Christmas morning, looking normal and healthy and called me mommy, I knew I’d been given the best gift ever. </span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.coolholidaygraphics.com/christmas/" target="_top"><br /><img border="0" src="http://www.coolholidaygraphics.com/christmas/dividers/garland-red-ribbon-488x174.gif" /><br /></a></div><br /><br /><div>Thank you for making the first stop on the tour. Please leave your comments below to be entered into a drawing to win your choice of EVENINGS AT THE ARGENTINE CLUB or SAY YOU'LL BE MINE.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>The tour contines on December 3rd at Radames Ortiz<br /><br /><a href="http://theamplifiedbard.blogspot.com/">blog</a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>See you there!</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Julia</div></div></div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-31987041708234954092011-11-29T14:14:00.000-08:002011-11-29T14:27:14.912-08:00Holiday Blog Tour Two Days Away<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_eHk0xe31ZQ/TtVZef-8eXI/AAAAAAAAAho/Bu5pwTVO6jA/s1600/Holiday_blog.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680544885514205554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_eHk0xe31ZQ/TtVZef-8eXI/AAAAAAAAAho/Bu5pwTVO6jA/s320/Holiday_blog.JPG" /></a><br />The 2011 Holiday Blog Tour begins right here on December 1st!!<br /><br />I invite you to visit and read about my most memorable Christmas.<br /><br />Those that leave a comment will be entered in a drawing to win your choice of EVENINGS AT THE ARGENTINE CLUB or SAY YOU'LL BE MINE.<br /><br />See you on the first!!<br /><br />Hugs,<br /><br />JuliaJulia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-16835034774667181112011-11-28T06:53:00.000-08:002011-11-28T07:13:12.764-08:00Holiday Blog TourI'm very excited to announce that in two days will begin a Holiday Blog Tour with 24 writers ranging from established to new to up-and-coming!! I'm thrilled to start us all off on December 1st!! <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g1g9ajRJRsI/TtOhLI6XqfI/AAAAAAAAAg4/IVNdywv8Kso/s1600/Holiday_blog.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680060767787264498" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g1g9ajRJRsI/TtOhLI6XqfI/AAAAAAAAAg4/IVNdywv8Kso/s320/Holiday_blog.JPG" /></a> More information to come about prizes, etc.<br /><br />Here is the line up!<br /><br />Dec. 1 Julia Amante<br />Dec. 2 Valerie R.<br />Dec. 3 <a href="http://theamplifiedbard.blogspot.com/">Radames Ortiz</a><br /><br /><br /><br />Dec. 4 <a href="http://deborahgracestaley.wordpress.com/">Deborah Grace Staley<br /></a>Dec. 5 <a href="http://www.dirtypages.blogspot.com/">Zoraida Cordova</a><br />Dec. 6.<a href="http://taintedcake.blogspot.com/">Danielle Klenak<br /></a>Dec. 7 <a href="http://www.elpoetamendez.blogspot.com/">Lupe Mendez<br /></a>Dec. 8 <a href="http://natashaoliver.com/Natasha_Oliver/2_cents/2_cents.html">Natasha Oliver<br /></a>Dec. 9 <a href="http://www.latinabookclub.com/">Maria Ferrer</a><br />Dec. 10 <a href="http://http//sidneywilliams.blogspot.com/">Sidney Williams<br /></a>Dec. 11 <a href="http://www.tonimargaritaplummer.wordpress.com/">Toni Plummer<br /></a>Dec. 12 <a href="http://www.mayracalvani.com/">Mayra Calvani<br /></a>Dec. 13 <a href="http://avocadochowder.blogspot.com/">Kristy Harding<br /></a>Dec. 14 <a href="http://www.thelmareyna.com/">Thelma Reyna<br /></a>Dec. 15.<a href="http://blog.sylvia-mendoza.com/">Sylvia Mendoza<br /></a>Dec. 16<a href="http://splinterinmygums.blogspot.com/"> Regina Tingle<br /></a>Dec. 17 <a href="http://teredovalpage.wordpress.com/">Teresa Dovalpage<br /></a>Dec. 18 <a href="http://www.espinolaeditor.blogspot.com/">Mirta Espinola<br /></a>Dec. 19 <a href="http://the-confident-writer.net/">Kim Brown<br /></a>Dec. 20 <a href="http://http//moondaria.blogspot.com/">Gwen Jerris<br /></a>Dec. 21 <a href="http://jewtah.wordpress.com/">Paula Altschuler<br /></a>Dec. 22 <a href="http://www.caridad.com/blog">Caridad Pinero<br /></a>Dec. 23 <a href="http://www.dulcebreadandbookshop.com/">Teresa Carbajal Revet<br /></a>Dec. 24 <a href="http://writingtoinsanity.com/">Icess Fernandez Rojas </a>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-82394653106093557392011-11-18T17:20:00.000-08:002011-11-20T15:42:30.826-08:00An Early Morning Swim<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZNg-LMZIESc/TscPZ7DzC-I/AAAAAAAAAgc/oC9u0eOWHZw/s1600/steaming%2Bpool.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 132px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676522793348565986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZNg-LMZIESc/TscPZ7DzC-I/AAAAAAAAAgc/oC9u0eOWHZw/s320/steaming%2Bpool.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>After a whirlwind three weeks of book signings, workshops and events, I woke up this morning thinking I didn't have to do anything but work on writing my new book. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>But that wasn't completely true. I did have to do one thing - homework for a swim class. An hour of physical activity of my choice. It did not have to be swimming, but I decided yesterday that since I'd signed up for this swimming class to become a better swimmer, it made sense to actually swim rather than do another activity.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>So, on my drive to the pool, the car is cutting through dense fog and I'm wondering if maybe I should have chosen another activity. But I keep driving. My plan is to work on being able to breathe from my left side without swallowing a mouthful of water each time. I've gotten pretty good at breathing to the right, but can't seem to turn my head far enough to the left to both breathe and swim. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>When I get there, only one other person is crazy enough to be in the pool. Steam is coming off the surface of the water. Two twenty-year old lifeguards are sitting at their posts covered up in hoodies, working on their laptop.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>I jump in the pool and start swimming, thinking this is actually pretty great, because the water is warm and I have a whole lane to myself. Normally, in class I have to share the lane with 5 or 6 other people. I make to the other side - 25 meters, and like always, I'm out of breath. So I rest for a couple of minutes and watch the other woman swim back and forth. I take off again and make it across the pool. Again, I rest. She swims. I continue to do this for about thirty minutes before I notice that this woman who is smoking me is pregnant. I'm impressed. But I notice that the life guards are gone. I'm not sure where they went, but I have this horrible thought about the pregnant woman. Is she supposed to get this much exercise? What if she suddenly goes into labor and the life guards are gone? Would I know what to do? Yes, run into the locker room, grab my phone and call 911.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Well, she didn't go into labor thank goodness, or this would be a different kind of blog tonight. Everything went smoothly and I finished my hour of swimming. Then went into the empty locker room, took a shower and went on to do my Thanksgiving shopping.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Is there a point to this blog? Not really, though I do want to say that it feels really great to follow through on plans to make heathy choices in life. It would have been easy to turn around and return home when I saw all that fog. Or to simply choose another activity or none at all. But the rest of the day has flowed great, thanks to this cold workout this morning.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Here's to making healthy choices as we prepare for Thanksgiving!!</div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Julia</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-62881838763492589402011-11-04T09:37:00.000-07:002011-11-04T10:19:02.969-07:00Lateness Drives My Son Crazy<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IKhUS-eC9_Y/TrQdVi_AeDI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rPsoXTAt2gU/s1600/Mom%2Band%2BMarsh%2Bat%2BRelay%2Bfor%2BLife.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 228px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671190086771832882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IKhUS-eC9_Y/TrQdVi_AeDI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rPsoXTAt2gU/s320/Mom%2Band%2BMarsh%2Bat%2BRelay%2Bfor%2BLife.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Every morning it's the same thing with my son. He hates to be late to school. Doesn't even like to be on-time. He has to get there early. I don't know where he got it from - I'm late . . . a lot. I look at the clock and see that I have fifteen minutes before I absolutely have to leave and decide that I can put a load of laundry into the washer, find a picture frame I've needed from the garage, and package up a book I've promised to send to someone. This ultimately adds a lot of stress to my life, and yes, makes me late.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Basically, I have more to do in one day than hours available to do them in, and this is why try to pack so much into every moment. But I realize it's not a great habit.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>So, every morning at 8am my son starts to remind me that it's time to go. School starts at 8:40 and we live 5 minutes away, but he knows me. "Mom, let's go. It's time to go," he tells me. "8:15 we'll go," I promise. But he doesn't let up. About every minute or so he tells me again that we have to go and that we're going to be late. I start to get frustrated and try to ignore him, because if I don't focus on what I'm doing, I'm going to forget to take something I have to take with me as I walk out the door. Pretty soon it's 8:20 and he begins to pace and complain. "Jeeze, let's go. You don't need anything else. We're going to be late. Forget the coffee. Jeeze, Mom, what's wrong with you?" What's wrong with <em>me</em>? I've raised a spoiled, loud mouth kid, that's what's wrong with me. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>But after I drop him off at school and he runs off with barely a good-bye, I get this warm feeling inside. I'm so proud of him for wanting to get to school on time, and for being so excited to get there. I know it's because he wants to hang out with friends before the bell rings, but still. What a great kid. Someday, he's going to be a fantastic asset to a company or his own business (and a bit of an annoying husband).</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>So today he calmly suggests that I plan to leave the house at 8am so that we will really leave at 8:15. I ask myself if he's really twelve, then unable to resist I give him a hug and tell him I'm proud of him for being so responsible. "Mom, really? I hate being late. Can we leave on time?"</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Yes," I tell him and I decide the laundry can wait and I'll buy a cup of coffee before I get to the university, and I'll mail that book tomorrow, and I don't need to hang that picture yet anyway. He got to school early and I got the the university on time and right now, I feel really good.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Wishing you all a great weekend with no stress and no craziness!</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Julia </div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-57676005221369490142011-10-25T15:36:00.000-07:002011-10-25T15:51:01.202-07:00Meet the Characters!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yoP4M-_VUlI/Tqc8jg687QI/AAAAAAAAAgA/xHEgprkhKcU/s1600/amante_sayyoullbemine_TP%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 206px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667565236899343618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yoP4M-_VUlI/Tqc8jg687QI/AAAAAAAAAgA/xHEgprkhKcU/s320/amante_sayyoullbemine_TP%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>Official release day of SAY YOU'LL BE MINE!! After months of writing, rewriting, reading copy edits, and weeks of marketing preparations, the book hits bookstores today! I'm very excited and am off to celebrate tonight.</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>For the next few days, I will post information to get readers better acquanted with the story. For today, let's mee the characters.<br /><br />SAY YOU'LL BE MINE has a fairly large cast of characters and multiple view points. Although, this is undeniably Isabel’s book, each of the characters in SAY YOU’LL BE MINE really have their own stories that complicate and enrich the main plot-line. </div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>ISABEL GALLEGOS<br />As the owner and CEO of Gallegos Wines, Isabel is used to having the power to make decisions and even more used to seeing them carried out. However, when her cousin dies and motherhood is suddenly thrust upon her, Isabel finds that she has no power to control even her own destiny.<br />Now, when she’s in the process of selling Gallegos, she must to travel to Mendoza, the wine country of Argentina where she and her parents once lived, to meet the children who need her to be the person her cousin Brenda hoped she would be.<br /><br />NICK REEVES<br />Nick grew up the fatherless son of an alcoholic mother. He follows in her footsteps without even realizing what he’s doing. In his twenties, he falls in love with Isabel while attending college in Argentina. He is moved by the close relationship she has with her parents and encourages them to move to America to start their business. Eventually, he marries Isabel. His drinking becomes so bad that after repeated attempts to help him get healthy, Isabel gives up and divorces him.<br />After the divorce, he continues to work at Gallegos. When he gets sober and rebuilds his life, he meets a new woman. They are due to get married once the winery sells and he’s finally free of his entanglements with Isabel. When Isabel gets the call about her cousin’s death, he sees this as a potential obstacle to both their plans of selling the winery, and decides to accompany her to Argentina. </div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br />BRENDA AND ANDRES GARCIA<br />Isabel’s cousins who die in a skiing accident, leaving behind three children.<br /><br />RAMIRO GARCIA<br />Brother to Andres. Ramiro was in love with Brenda back when he was young, wild and irresponsible. Brenda cared about him, but chose Andres to marry and build a life. This caused bad blood between Andres and Ramiro and they eventually stopped talking. Ramiro was accused of stealing from his mother, and disowned by all his family. But now Ramiro has turned his life around, or so he says. But no one trusts him, especially the children’s grandmother who makes Isabel promise to keep him out of the kids’ lives.<br /><br />ADELMO GARCIA<br />Eight-year-old Adelmo is devastated to lose his parents in a skiing accident, but the agony is compounded when he learns that his mother appointed a cousin from America to be their guardian. Adelmo's Goal quickly becomes to make sure he gets to stay in Argentina even if he has to live with a man his father hated.<br /><br />JULIETA GARCIA<br />Julieta is only four and all she wants is to be loved. She wants to find safety and reassurance and feel less afraid.<br /><br /><br />SANDRA GARCIA<br />Sandra is the oldest sibling at ten-years-old, and she is the one who has the most in common with Isabel. As the only one who actually met Isabel, she feels a connection to her and she wants to trust that her mother knew what she was doing when she appointed Isabel their guardian. She’s also convinced that if Isabel and Nick get re-married, they can all be a family again.<br /><br />ROSA CALVO<br />Isabel’s best friend in Argentina who finds herself falling in love with the enemy. Ramiro is rude and obnoxious and dangerous. But he’s also incredibly sexy and is able to make Rosa forget that she’s an aging divorcee. So when it appears that there will be a battle between Ramiro and Isabel, Rosa has to choose between friendship and love.<br /><br />TIA DOMINGA<br />Losing her only child is the most heartbreaking thing that can happen to a mother, and Tia Dominga avoids a complete break-down only because Brenda has three children who need an adult to comfort them. But she knows that she can only take care of them temporarily until Isabel returns from America and takes charge of Brenda’s children. </div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>SAY YOU'LL BE MINE is available at all <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/say-youll-be-mine-julia-amante/1102406253">Barnes & Noble </a>and online stores. <br /></div><br /><div>Enjoy!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Julia<br /></div><br /><div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-36581991552931711252011-10-07T15:20:00.000-07:002011-10-07T15:37:59.934-07:00I Won't Miss You, Mom<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--P3yHTiEXYU/To9_MjYf1vI/AAAAAAAAAfs/wxRjXxDiXs0/s1600/copely%2Bsquare.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660883110261151474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--P3yHTiEXYU/To9_MjYf1vI/AAAAAAAAAfs/wxRjXxDiXs0/s200/copely%2Bsquare.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>After flying on a redeye, I arrived in Boston this morning, pretty worn out. I can never sleep on an airplane, and to make things worse American Airline thinks it's a good idea to show a movie on those screens that come down from cieling on the center aisle so that the bright flickering light makes you feel like you're at a disco club from the 70's.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>So, tired today, but I realized I'm not as worried about the kids as I used to be when they were younger. Maybe because I know they won't miss me as much as they did when they were little. I remeber leaving for writer's conferences and calling my husband a million times. I worried about who would read them a book before bed (my husband of course buy my mom ego told me he wouldn't do it as well), what they would eat, and how they would live without me there telling them I loved them.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Now, I drop them off at school and my daughter, who is still at the age where she can show affection and not be paranoid about it, will say, "I love you, Mom." My son, on the other hand, told her the other day that she should not say that so darned loud as she's getting out of the car. I sort of joked and said, "Hey, why not? And where is the <em>I love you</em> from you?" He shook his head and got out of the car. I yelled, I love you loudly and he ran away. LOL.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Well, I guess it's my job to keep saying it even if they don't want to hear it. But it does give me a feeling that they can be apart from me now without going through mommy withdrawls. Which makes me more relaxed on my trips. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>I will call home tonight, and remind them that I love them. But, I'll also enjoy reading a novel in peace in my hotel room and getting a good night's sleep : )</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>And for any Bostonians out there, I will leave Say You'll Be Mine bookmarks at the BN in Copley Square and any other book store I run across.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Happy weekend to all!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Julia</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-42643417273157161422011-09-23T09:20:00.000-07:002011-09-23T09:20:00.697-07:00Interview with Dalia Cejas<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AQaWln1JJvw/TnwVzCPI-uI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Ux5cLZSrMaw/s1600/CejaLogoJPEG.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 243px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655419198588386018" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AQaWln1JJvw/TnwVzCPI-uI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Ux5cLZSrMaw/s320/CejaLogoJPEG.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm SO excited about my guest this week! I first learned of <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.cejavineyards.com">Ceja Vineyards </a>last May when I saw the business profiled on Hispanic Lifestyle. I knew immediately that I wanted to interview Dalia Ceja and ask her my own questions. If feel very lucky that she has taken time out of her busy schedule to spend some time with me and my readers.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I hope you enjoy the interview!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Julia</strong>: Dalia, interviewing you is such a treat for me! I spent hours reading about production and wine tasting and trying to learn all I could about the business in order to write Say You'll Be Mine. But what I did not do is talk to actual owners of wineries. That was partially on purpose, because I wanted my characters to be complete fictional creations. I didn’t want to inadvertently pick up facts about actual people. But now that the book is finished and due to be released next month, I’m very much interested in learning about the real people who have chosen to make wine-making and the running of a winery their life. Thank you for agreeing to this interview! First of all, can you introduce me to the Ceja’s family and what they do for the business? </span><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WbuWi1OKsOA/TnwUuds3AEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/jQdBWikbeB8/s1600/Dalia_C.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655418020549820482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WbuWi1OKsOA/TnwUuds3AEI/AAAAAAAAAe0/jQdBWikbeB8/s320/Dalia_C.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dalia:</strong> There are three generations of Ceja’s that are involved in the business. The partners and founders of <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.cejavineyards.com">Ceja Vineyards </a>are Amelia, Pedro, Armando & Martha Ceja. My mom, Amelia Ceja is the first Latina woman to be President and Owner of a winery in Napa. My uncle, Armando, is our winemaker and my father Pedro, is behind all of the architectural creativity of the operation. I joined my family’s team in 2009 as Director of Sales and Marketing and my grandmother, Mama Juana, also helps us cook for many wine club events and special dinners.</span><br /><br /></span><strong>Julia</strong> How did your family get involved in the wine-making business? Would you share a bit of history? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Dalia:</strong>My grandparent’s came from Mexico to the U.S. in the 60’s as migrant farm workers through the Bracero program. In the mid 60’s they settled in St. Helena working in the fields picking the fruit during harvest. In 1968, both sets of grandparents brought their families from Mexico in search of better life o<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rw_H1nEloyg/TnwXUgxiyyI/AAAAAAAAAfE/DYwfBj5unQ8/s1600/francisca_felipe2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655420873233058594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Rw_H1nEloyg/TnwXUgxiyyI/AAAAAAAAAfE/DYwfBj5unQ8/s200/francisca_felipe2.jpg" /></a>pportunities. The kids worked in the fields and continued going to scho<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JMajGzKRGhQ/TnwXrK3w0VI/AAAAAAAAAfM/_G-TRUpLwHs/s1600/pablo_juana2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 164px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655421262490554706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JMajGzKRGhQ/TnwXrK3w0VI/AAAAAAAAAfM/_G-TRUpLwHs/s200/pablo_juana2.jpg" /></a>ol. We went from vineyard workers to vineyard owners in a very short period of time. My uncle, Armando went to UC and got a degree in Viticulture & Enology. In 1999 my parents founded Ceja Vineyards and launched their own brand. Currently we make a total of 10,000 cases annually and make beautiful handcrafted wines.<br /></span><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> What a great success story! When I first learned about Ceja Vineyards, my interest was immediately piqued. Here was a Latina family who owned a winery. How do you bring your Latino roots into your business? Maybe in the food you serve? Or does your background figure in your business at all?<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><strong>Dalia: </strong><span style="font-family:arial;">For us, our roots go very deep into our Mexican heritage and Mexican culture, and we show that with everything that we do. Cooking plays an integral part of our culture and we pair authentic Mexican cuisine with all of our wines. We’re also in the process of constructing our Mission style winery, which plays homage to the Missions of CA</span>.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> Yes, I've watched a few of your <a href="http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ek6tg7bvyuE">YouTube cooking videos</a>, and loved them! Yum. And I appreciate learning how to pair wines to different foods. The next point of interest for me, since the protagonist of my novel comes from Mendoza Argentina and her family brought their knowledge of wine-making from South America, is that you spent a number of weeks traveling around South America, including Mendoza. Can you share what you learned from your travels and what you enjoyed about this trip? </p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><strong>Dalia</strong>: I<span style="font-family:arial;"> spent six glorious months backpacking throughout South America. It was probably one of the greatest and most life changing experiences yet. In a nutshell: I traveled with my best friend exploring five countries, over 500 hours of bus rides, crashing in hostels, visiting Machu Picchu, trekking up an active volcano, falling in love {with Chile}, swimming in the gorgeous white beaches of Brazil, eating amazing asado {Argentian BBQ} and most importantly, discovering who I really am… For me, my experiences can be described in three words {that are tattooed on my forearm} – live your passions. This became the anchor for a blog that I would later launch in 2011.<br /></span><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> How do you compare the process/production/taste of California and in particular Ceja Wines to those you saw in South America?<br /><strong></strong></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><strong>Dalia: </strong>One thing a visitor will notice about Argentine wine producers is their sense of enthusiasm. The revolution in technology and information that has flooded the industry has left winemakers as excited as kids on Christmas morning playing with all of their new toys.<br /><br />It was evident that a significant portion of the Argentine and Chilean wine industry has been revolutionized. Where they once produced simple, inexpensive wines primarily designated as red, white and rosé, now in 2011, Argentina is focused on fine varietal-designated wines, especially their Malbec (which I love!). </p><br /><br /><br /><p>Their mission is to deliver, high quality wines of good value. Much of the technological advancement, along with the development of the new international style of winemaking in Argentina and Chile, is directly related to consultants from California, France, Chile and Italy sharing information with Argentine winemakers.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> Very cool, I love Malbecs too. Which are your favorite Ceja Wines and how can readers buy your wines if they can’t travel to Napa Valley? </p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><strong>Dalia:</strong> <span style="font-family:arial;">I love all of our wines for different reasons. It depends on the dish I’m pairing it with, the time of year and the mood I’m in. Right now, I seem to gravitate toward our crisp and refreshing “Bella Flor” Rose, which is the perfect wine to pair with spicy food. You can buy our wines on our website at www.cejavineyards.com, at our tasting room in downtown Napa on 1248 First street, or over the phone at (707) 255-3954.</span><br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> Wine tasting is such an art. Even after spending half a year doing “research” and going to wine tastings, I still have a difficult time really understanding how to choose a good wine. What should the average person look for when choosing a wine after a wine tasting event?<br /><br /><strong>Dalia</strong>: In my opinion wine is subjective and to many people, a very personal experience. The best way to choose a wine is to enjoy the varietals you love, that you might have had a fabulous experience drinking in the past, or enjoyed drinking in a memorable setting with family and friends. Since I’m a foodie, I usually choose a wine that with compliment the dish I’m about to cook and devour. Also, have fun with your decisions, pick a wine that you wouldn’t normally try and I promise you it might surprise you and your taste buds.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> That's great advice, especially about a wine you've enjoyed with friends and family. Wine always seems to taste better when sharing it. Moving away from the product to the business aspect of owning a vineyard and winery - what does it take to be successful in the wine-making business? I notice that you have a big presence online. I love yours and Amelia’s recipes! And you both seem to be naturals behind the camera. In today’s world, do you feel that this type of connection with your customers is necessary?<br /><br /><strong>Dalia</strong>: Be passionate. Love what you do and it will never feel like work. There is a saying in my family, “we don’t have blood in our veins, we have wine.” This is a mere reflection of the passion and enthusiasm I have always felt toward this industry. We have utilized social media {<a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.facebook.com/cejavineyards">Facebook</a>, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.twitter.com/cejavineyards">Twitter</a> &<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ek6tg7bvyuE">YouTube</a>} as a means to create a community around our brand. It has been a very powerful tool for our business and to create an online persona. My mom and I have over 120 videos on YouTube that focus on short food and wine pairings. We love to cook and this has been another creative outlet to brand our business and sell wine!<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> Dalia, would you like to share a bit more about yourself? Tell us about your blog, your interests and passions in life. Pictures? <a href="http://youtu.be/pVoEkMeED2I">Video clips</a>?<br /><br /><strong>Dalia:</strong> I have been surrounded by wine, food and travel my entire life. I may have grown up in the wine industry but I come from very humble beginnings. In 2008 I graduated from San Francisco State University with a B.A. in Marketing & Communications. After graduating from college I departed on a six month “Study Abroad” backpacking journey through South America, learning, exploring and enriching my career with real life experiences. This became the anchor for a blog that I would later launch in 2011.<br />In 2011 I was named “Woman of the Year” through the Napa Valley Hispanic Chamber of Commerce for my entrepreneurial leadership and charitable contributions. In May of 2011 I launched my own blog and website titled<a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.theolereport.com"> The Ole! Report</a>. I highlight my own passions to creatively focus on wine, fashion, food, travel and fiestas! Please visit www.theolereport.com<br />I also plan to further my education and attend Sonoma State University to receive my M.B.A. in Wine Marketing. With a personal flare and passion for fashion, wine, cooking and travel, I’m set to leave a mark! Ole! <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.theolereport.com"></p></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 120px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655568329907592194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1yciMLTQvTg/TnydbnsXXAI/AAAAAAAAAfU/V6oNPwYkYe0/s320/TheOleReportBanner.jpg" /><br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> How can readers find <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.cejavineyards.com">Ceja Vineyards </a>on the Internet? Blogs? Facebook?<br /><br /><strong>Dalia:</strong> You can find <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.cejavineyards.com">Ceja Vineyards </a>at www.cejavineyards.com, Also on Facebook, Twitter and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ek6tg7bvyuE">Youtube</a>! Become a fan and become a part of our extended familia!<br /><br /><strong>Julia</strong>: Thank you so much for letting me ask so many questions! Best of luck to you and your family! You are true inspirations to many hard working Latino families.<br /><br /><br />To my wonderful readers, please leave your comments or questions for Dalia below. I will draw one random name next Friday 9/30 and the winner will have the opportunity to own a fabulous wine kit to uncork and re-cork your wine - $30 value! Great to take on romantic picnics!<br /><br /><br /><p></p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7iCCn4qkUgc/TnynJncgCRI/AAAAAAAAAfc/-A2R0NaYSis/s1600/Wine%2Bkit%2B2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655579015719684370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7iCCn4qkUgc/TnynJncgCRI/AAAAAAAAAfc/-A2R0NaYSis/s200/Wine%2Bkit%2B2.jpg" /></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655580050307050626" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--FK-SFeACHE/TnyoF1lWbII/AAAAAAAAAfk/uC8Y5S2Fg8E/s200/Wine%2Bkit.jpg" />Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-69070720514364967392011-09-16T01:00:00.000-07:002011-09-16T14:47:56.235-07:00State Street Winery<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fJBEKVs3quY/TnLYGWepyqI/AAAAAAAAAes/uY90I7Ajxbc/s1600/Harter%2Bfamily.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652818085928356514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fJBEKVs3quY/TnLYGWepyqI/AAAAAAAAAes/uY90I7Ajxbc/s320/Harter%2Bfamily.jpg" /></a> Recently, in my local newspaper I ran across an <a href="http://www.pe.com/localnews/sbcounty/stories/PE_News_Local_N_nwinery29.35c1964.html">article</a> about a new winery opening up close to home, and it piqued my interest immediately. I love when new, cool businesses start, especially family owned businesses. With Say You'll Be Mine being set in a winery, I knew I wanted to meet the owners and interview them. Happily, one of the owners, Janet Harter agreed to an interview.<br /><br />I hope you enjoy the interview and if you live close to Redlands, California, stop by and sample their great wines.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> Janet, it’s so exciting to have a winery in Redlands! How did you and Robin come to the decision of opening a winery?<br /><br /><strong>Janet:</strong> Robin and I wanted to have our own winery for about 5 years and then the last year we decided to open our winery.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> Why did you choose Redlands as the perfect location to open your business?<br /><br /><strong>Janet:</strong> We have lived in Redlands for 30 years and just thought down town would <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F0Typ_i8WFo/TnKo3YLtF8I/AAAAAAAAAec/2ac8GdIQ1Ko/s1600/DSCF1121.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652766151641208770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F0Typ_i8WFo/TnKo3YLtF8I/AAAAAAAAAec/2ac8GdIQ1Ko/s200/DSCF1121.jpg" /></a>be the perfect location for our winery.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> I agree! I think it's going to make downtown even more charming and enticing than it already is. I really love that this is a family business for you all. In fact, when I was doing research for Say You'll Be Mine, I realized that it <em>is</em> a business that tends to be family run. Who are the family members and how do you help each other run the winery.<br /><br /><strong>Janet:</strong> Yes we are a family business. Robin –Husband wine maker, owner, Victor son-in-law wine maker, stocker, Desiree- daughter, helps bottle, label, work tasting room, Kelly-Daughter helps bottle, label, work tasting room, Elizabeth- daughter, helps bottle, label, work tasting room. My family does whatever it has taken to help run the winery and get it started they also have other jobs as well. I also have friends that all help bottle and label. They work for wine.<br /><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> LOL - that would work for me too! What varieties of wines do you offer?<br /><br /><strong>Janet:</strong> Whites, Reds, Fruit<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XL0BrFXQMeQ/TnLT2PaS46I/AAAAAAAAAek/zTV0LogN5ws/s1600/DSCF1123.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652813411106612130" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XL0BrFXQMeQ/TnLT2PaS46I/AAAAAAAAAek/zTV0LogN5ws/s200/DSCF1123.jpg" /></a><br /><strong>Julia:</strong> You offer patrons the opportunity to create custom labels and to have their own vintage. Can you tell me a bit about how that works?<br /><br /><strong>Janet</strong>: Guest can email me a picture for a bottle of wine or just put words on a label.<br />Guest would pick out a wine they like and we would start the wine for them<br />And the 5 to 7 weeks later they would come back and bottle it themselves.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong>Julia:</strong> How fun! In fact, that idea is so appealing to me, that I'm going to be doing it!! I can't wait to see the bottles of wine with the Say You'll Be Mine label. Well, thank you for taking the time to meet with me. Where can readers go on the web to find out more about your winery?<br /><br /><strong>Janet:</strong> They can go to Statestreetwineryredlands.com</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong>Julia:</strong> Great! Thank you so much. State Street Winery als has a wine club where members receive one bottle of wine a month and they get 10% off everything in the winery!<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I'm also excited to announce that anyone who comes to the launch book signing of Say You'll Be Mine on October 29th, at Barnes & Noble (3485 Tyler Street, Riverside, Ca. 92503) and purchases a book, will be invited for a free wine tasting at the State Stree Winery!! Thank you, Harter family!</div><br /><br />Julia<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-38528362761746288572011-09-08T19:46:00.000-07:002011-09-09T10:30:48.644-07:00Loving Writing<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650412447376449378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tccVldDe25o/TmpMLwhRn2I/AAAAAAAAAeU/sO3ySGJeL1U/s320/tutoring6.jpg" /> <br /><div><br /><div>As writers, I think, we have the illusion that everyone enjoys writing. I'm not sure where it comes from. People actually do confess to authors often that they would like to write a book or that they have an idea for a book and one day they will find the time to actually "write that book."<br /><br />So, realizing that some people struggle with writing or really don't like it is short of a shockers. It's like when I meet the odd-ball person who says, "I don't like chocolate." Really?? How is that possible?<br /><br />Well, later this month I'm going to being working in a writing center at my university. I'm excited about it, because I love to teach writing! I love to help people produce papers that help them express exactly what they want to say, or stories they can be proud of. And I enjoy reading other people's writing. Everyone views the world differently, so no two people will write quite the same thing even about the same subject.<br /><br />But I was warned, that some students who visit the writing center will be there because the instructor forced the to go, not because they want to be there. Really? How is that possible?<br /><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 148px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650412070458884290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-npSZ3WOcDEo/TmpL10ZIAMI/AAAAAAAAAeM/VU1IEQJDUvI/s200/NG-SERVICES-in-Broward-County-Davie-Plantation-Pembroke-Pines-Hollywood-Miramar-Davie-Pembroke-Pines-Cooper-City-Hollywood-Miramar-Plantation-1282945227.jpg" /><br />Doesn't everyone want to improve their writing? I've tutored children before, and I was an elementary school teacher, so I'm not <em>that </em>naive, but seriously, I wonder why anyone would dread writing and being able to express their thoughts on paper. It's such a gift that we are given as people and citizens of this country. Is it because someone has told them at some point that they are not a good writer? If so, don't let that stop you people. Every writer has been told that by someone. EVERY WRITER. Is it because they don't have confidence in their skills? That's what writing centers and tutors are for - to help people improve their skills.<br /><br />I think I'm going to approach this writing center job with the attitude that everyone wants to be there and that they may not yet know it. I'm hoping that my love of writing will be infectious and will translate into getting others to love it too, or at least like it. I'm excited! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Julia</div></div>Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-36720370394298137282011-08-26T01:01:00.000-07:002011-08-26T01:01:00.265-07:00Can One Party Too Much?Life is pretty crazy in my household right now. Going through my calendar and thinking, "wow, I'm planning too much!"
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<br />I've decided to throw my mom a 75th birthday party in September! Plans for that are underway. Menus, invitations, catalogues for gift ideas, etc, are in a box taking up space in my family room. My husband's birthday is also in September, and both my kids follow that up with birthdays in the fall which I haven't even begun to plan.
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<br />My girl scout troop is going to Washington DC next year to celebrate the 100 anniversary of girl scouts!!! Yay! But organizing parents and girls for this is huge! Funraising alone is a full time job. I have an entire cabinet stuffed with binders of papers dedicated to this trip. Everyday there are forms to fill out, money to deposit, calls to make, parents to email.
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<br />Then there is the biggie for me as an author - the release of Say You'll Be Mine!! I'm working with my publicist at Grand Central, who is wonderful, setting up the launch book signing event, as well as other tour events and speaking engagements. I'm writing articles and blogs. Might try to make a book trailer if I can figure how how. Working on a new book idea. Searching for a new agent. This makes my office a danger zone with piles of paperwork and files and books, and planners everywhere.
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<br />These are just the things that<em> I'm</em> planning and doesn't include birthdays, mixers, meetings, BBQ's, recitals and family gatherings I've been invited to. So, I'm starting to wonder if I'm planning too much. Should I leave some time to kick back and watch TV? Clean my house? Sleep? As I jot everything into my planner, I question my sanity. Do I really want to do all this stuff? Sometimes it's exhausting and I think I don't.
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<br />But, wait, I <em>want</em> to celebrate the release of my book. And can't wait to watch my mom blow out 75 candles (okay, I won't make her do that). And am going to love watching my scouts faces as they travel to our capital and meet hundreds of other girls from across the nation. And I enjoy visiting with friends and supporting them at their events, and going to meetings for groups that I believe in, and all the other things that I do. I love all of it!
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<br />So as I end another week where I've gone to bed at midnight or one in the morning only to wake up at five, I remind myself that the reason I'm tired is because all the things I've got planned take work. And the work is worth it, because the things I want are worth it.
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<br />I wanted to share all this with you, because maybe you too have huge goals that take a lot of time and effort and you end your week feeling drained. But I want to encourage you to keep at it, whatever <em>it</em> might be. Careers. Great relationships. Your health. Maybe a great garden. None of it just shows up in your life. You have to work hard for it. But the day will come, when you'll get what you're after.
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<br />Hope everyone has a GREAT weekend!
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<br />Julia
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<br />Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-44545731660655057442011-08-19T01:01:00.000-07:002011-08-19T01:01:00.368-07:00The parallels of Writing and Baking<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5JP2H_rhSAo/Tk3xNj_6hJI/AAAAAAAAAeE/VP0xEH8k8WQ/s1600/OutOfTheShadows_GabriellaHewitt.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642431123469010066" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5JP2H_rhSAo/Tk3xNj_6hJI/AAAAAAAAAeE/VP0xEH8k8WQ/s200/OutOfTheShadows_GabriellaHewitt.jpg" /></a>
<br />Today I'm thrilled to have Gabriella Hewitt guest blogging!
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<br />Please leave a comment below to be entered into the OUT OF THE SHADOWS Blog Tour Contest to win A $25 GC to Amazon.com. Winner will be announced on Gabriella' blog August 26th. Check here for official rules.
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<br />Enjoy!
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<br />I have a banana stand to keep my bananas bruise free and fresh. I guess they were too fresh because they were peeling off the stand. I had the brilliant idea to bake banana bread. So, after the kids finally went to bed I got started. A friend who had moved away had given me cake flour--at least I thought it was. I looked at the package and read bread flour. Flour is flour, right?
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<br />Ha ha. I start mixing the batter, only it's not batter. It's really doughy and not blending all that well. Does it need water or milk? No. I'm not my sharpest at 10 pm, so it took a moment to connect the dots. Maybe it's the flour. There I was wondering if I should toss it all out. But I hate to waste food. Well, it's bread dough. It's got enough sugar in it that the kids will probably eat it anyway. Okay, so it doesn't have yeast and won't rise, but it'll make a great focaccia. Sure it will. I flatten it out in the bottom of a glass baking pan and baked it.
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<br />Writing is kind of the same. You start out with all these ingredients and it might even seem like it's coming together. Then disaster. Nothing mixes right. The pieces don't fit. You'r positive that you can't achieve anything worth serving up to your readers. But, with patience, perserverance and ingenuity, the whole becomes clear and as you near the end, you wonder why you ever doubted yourself to begin with.
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<br />I've got to be honest, though. That so-called focaccia may be hard as a rock and completely inedible. I won't know until tomorrow. That's why I'll stick with writing rather than baking, even if some of the same principles apply.
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<br />Here is the recipe I am using. Got it from AllRecipes.com <a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/focaccia-bread/detail.aspx">http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/focaccia-bread/detail.aspx</a>
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<br />Ingredients
<br />2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
<br />1 teaspoon salt
<br />1 teaspoon white sugar
<br />1 tablespoon active dry yeast
<br />1 teaspoon garlic powder
<br />1 teaspoon dried oregano
<br />1 teaspoon dried thyme
<br />1/2 teaspoon dried basil
<br />1 pinch ground black pepper
<br />1 tablespoon vegetable oil
<br />1 cup water
<br />2 tablespoons olive oil
<br />1 tablespoon grated Parmesan cheese
<br />1 cup mozzarella
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<br />Directions
<br />1.In a large bowl, stir together the flour, salt, sugar, yeast, garlic powder, oregano, thyme, basil and black pepper. Mix in the vegetable oil and water.
<br />2.When the dough has pulled together, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface, and knead until smooth and elastic. Lightly oil a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl, and turn to coat with oil. Cover with a damp cloth, and let rise in a warm place for 20 minutes.
<br />3.Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C). Punch dough down; place on greased baking sheet. Pat into a 1/2 inch thick rectangle. Brush top with olive oil. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and mozzarella cheese.
<br />4.Bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes, or until golden brown. Serve warm.
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<br />You can find more recipes at my website and download Puerto Rican Recipes free booklet. <a href="http://www.gabriellahewitt.com/free-reads/">Free Reads</a>
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<br />Gabriella Hewitt is the pen name of creative writing talents Sasha Tomaszycki and Patrizia M.J. Hayashi. Together they weave tales of romantic suspense and dangerously sensual paranormals. Check out the website www.GabriellaHewitt.com to find out about upcoming releases and events on her blog.
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<br />Julia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-419590491994471555.post-25845556311232050102011-08-18T04:00:00.000-07:002011-08-18T10:42:35.852-07:00Special Guest Blogger Almost Here<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NBt309ssMJU/TkyY-KJqFDI/AAAAAAAAAd0/R_8WvsFjw6s/s1600/OutOfTheShadows_GabriellaHewitt.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 166px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NBt309ssMJU/TkyY-KJqFDI/AAAAAAAAAd0/R_8WvsFjw6s/s320/OutOfTheShadows_GabriellaHewitt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642052626832561202" /></a>
<br />Special treat Friday!! Gabriella Hewitt will be guest blogging on our site.
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<br />Gabriella Hewitt is the pen name of creative writing talents Sasha Tomaszycki and Patrizia M.J. Hayashi. Together they weave tales of romantic suspense and dangerously sensual paranormals. Check out the website www.GabriellaHewitt.com to find out about upcoming releases and events on her blog.
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<br />To make it even more special, if you leave a comment tomorrow, you will be entered into the OUT OF THE SHADOWS Blog Tour Contest to win A $25 GC to Amazon.com. Winner will be announced on Gabriella' blog August 26th. Check here for official rules. <a href="www.gabriellahewitt.com"></a>
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<br />So, remind yourself to stop by Friday!
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<br />See you then,
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<br />JuliaJulia Amantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17214739777177649918noreply@blogger.com0