Despite what my family will tell you, I don’t have obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Okay, so I will admit this much… I’m Type A. I’m ultra-organized. I like things around me to be neat. If I have something important to do, I have to get it done before I can relax. If I’m not busy, I’ll find something to do. If you’re telling me a story and you don’t get to the point quickly, I’ll start trying to finish it for you. (One of my least endearing traits…) And I take on so many things, some days I feel like a circus juggler. Type A to the very last detail, but not genuinely OCD. At least I didn’t think so until this summer.

For some reason, I find myself drifting to my email just to see what’s come in. Usually nothing. Unless you count the offers to increase a certain part of the human anatomy I simply don’t possess. They evidently can sell me prescription drugs at low prices too. But mostly, my email is nonexistent.

I often wonder what it was like for writers in the past — before the miracle of email and file sharing. Did they sit and stare at their mailbox the same way I hover over my cyber mailbox? Did they make repeated trips to the post office to drop off their precious partials with a kiss and a prayer? Did they know the Kinko’s salesman by his first name? Damn, but between the postage and the printing, it had to be expensive to get noticed.

The explosion of computers has changed the world for writers, not just on the obvious level of using word processing. That, in and of itself, is a true miracle in my book. But it’s changed publishing too. I’m amazed how many agents are “green” now — only taking queries through email. Now that the post office has made it next to impossible to send manuscripts without a DNA sample, a thumbprint, and a scan of your retina, it shouldn’t be surprising. I imagine it’s just as wonderful for agents and editors as it is for writers. No lugging around piles of partials. No worrying about losing pages. A handy laptop or PDA, and you’re connected to anyone you’d ever want to talk to and can pull up any number of files to read.

On the other hand, there’s something to be said about being too connected, especially for people like me. We tend to have trouble simply turning the silly computer off. But I suppose my Type A personality plays well into this new technologically rich world. I just need to learn when to walk away and let the mailbox alone.

Besides, if I was going to have OCD, it would have to be called CDO so it was in alphabetical order.

What should I write next?

I’m a “shape shifter.” Not literally, although that would be really nifty. I have never settled into writing one type of romance. Contemporary. Historical. Paranormal. I’ve written them all. Of course, it’s not like I ever expected to write more than one book. Shoot, I sometimes still have trouble believing I actually finished one, let alone eight. (But remember, two don’t count. They’re going to be rewritten.) It never dawned on me I should find a tack and stick with it because of the way the stories evolved.

A Twist of Fate was written about a married couple because I was fed up with reading stories where the marriage was the end of the romance. Poo on that. I rebelled by writing a story about a time traveling married couple — James and Susan Williams.

When I finished the first book, I had a character who was “left behind” by the heroine. He was so sweet, so kind, and so wonderful, I couldn’t let him be all alone. Because the first story was a time travel, well, I had to write the second as an historical to accommodate that character. His name is Daniel Miller, and in the course of writing the second story, I worked out this cool family tree and somehow decided Daniel was going to be the patriarch of a very active family. Now, with the exception of the Amazon series, there’s usually a Miller involved in the story. All of my stories can stand alone, but there are common characters that tie all the stories together.

The third story I wrote was Murphy’s Law. It came from someone telling me that if I was going to write a book, I should write A Dummy’s Guide to Harness Racing. Well, why not introduce people to the sport through a good story instead? So I figured the main character had to start from scratch, and I started asking questions. Why would someone come to racing later in life? What would make him stick it out through the hard learning process? And Seth Remington and his forced time working for Katie Murphy were born. My readers learn about racing from Katie as she teaches Seth. (James and Susan Williams from the first book make a brief appearance.) But there was a problem I hadn’t anticipated. Another really cool character, Ross Kennedy, was left high and dry with no love interest. I couldn’t let that happen! So Ross got his own story and the girl — Laurie Miller. Hence, Free Falling was my next story.

Faith of the Heart came from sitting in a Christmas Eve mass, staring at a crucifix, and just… thinking. Thinking always gets me in loads of trouble. An idea popped in my head. What if your faith alone could save you — even from illness? So Sarah Reid was born, struck by lightning, and given the ability to heal people. Laurie Miller suddenly got a cousin named Joshua who was a reporter and wanted to expose the “phony” healer.

Somewhere in the middle of all these stories, I did something unusual. Most of my stories have to evolve through several chapters before I find the title and finally “feel” the whole plot. It has always been story, then title. Until I thought of this great title — Turning Thirty-Twelve. Then I wrote a romance around it, beginning with a short diatribe about being forty-something, which I happen to be. It also is the only first-person perspective I’ve ever used. As I said, I’m a shapeshifter.

My mentor said I should write more about horse racing, so I went back to the track. But I was also thinking about the Iraq war and my former students serving there. Lucas Mitchell was born, and I tried to show my readers all about these soldiers through Lucas’s eyes. His love interest is dear to my heart because she’s Hungarian, and through Jozsa Kovachs, I got to explore my own Hungarian roots as I wrote All the Right Reasons.

Why did I take a paranormal tangent? I blame my son. If I need a new book idea, all I have to do is take him to a movie. But we have to go early. Before the previews, we toss around ideas. (I’m sure people around us think we are talking about the oddest people.) By the time the movie begins, we’ve got main characters and a rough plot. When we went to see the last Harry Potter movie, I asked him what kind of paranormal we could write where the women were the heroes. Voila. We created the Amazons.

Currently, I’m finishing up the second in the Amazon series — and books three and four are buzzing in my brain. I had a good idea for a romantic suspense. And Jozsa’s brother was another yummy guy left all alone. There’s always the rewrites of the first two stories.

So many ideas, and so little time.

We had a little rain in Johnson County yesterday.

Looking down our driveway. (Click on the thumbnail photos to enlarge them.)

Looking at our house from across the street.

The neighborhood retention lake. Can you see the underwater bench in the top right of the picture?

Same location facing toward the east.

Apryl Drive looking north at my high school.

Apryl Drive looking east. See the fence on the left that’s half way underwater?

What a mess! I used to joke that if Greenwood was flooded, we should start building an ark. I guess I better head to Home Depot.

If you’ll forgive the Alice Cooper quote, “School’s out for summer.”

Time. I finally have time. Time to go to the grocery without squeezing it in between work and going to the track. Time to paint that bathroom. Time to clean out that closet. Time to get those carpets cleaned. Time to wax that kitchen floor.

Time to write.

Did you catch the pattern there? Type A personalities can never just relax. Time is a challenge — a void that must be filled. And like most Type A’s, I intend to fill it well. Not only with family projects but with new stories.

Right now, I’m splitting my time between two manuscripts — The Impetuous Amazon and A Twist of Fate. The Amazon sequel is probably my favorite story. I love the hero. I love the heroine. And I’ve thought up lots of twists and turns that I hope will keep the reader guessing. The third Amazon is whispering to me as well. I imagine I’ll give The Guardian Amazon a good start soon.

So my summer is here, and I plan to make the most of it. At least in between errands, walking Dr. Carter, and catching an occasional afternoon nap. Having lupus is hard — physically and emotionally. If I had another career, I’m not sure I could function on a year-round basis. Teaching offers me the luxury of having the summers to regain my health. For that, I am truly blessed.

And of course, there is San Francisco to look forward to the end of July. I had a blast at last year’s RWA National Conference. I hope this year is as wonderful.

To end on another Alice quote, “No more pencils. No more books. No more teacher’s dirty looks.”