Why I write...

Hello all! What an honor to be the first passenger on board Debbie's new blogging adventure. I'm delighted to be here in cyberland with all of you -- I saw lots of names I recognized in the "comments" section and many new ones, too. I wondered this week what I could possibly tell you that would be new, different and of interest to Debbie's diverse audience, since that in-depth interview basically told you everything about me except what color underwear I wear. (Pink.) Then I had a booksigning last night and I knew exactly what I wanted to tell you.

I want to tell you why I write. I realized it last night, when I looked out to a sea of always enthusiastic faces -- my "village" of supporters who dutifully turn out for my one big local signing I hold to celebrate the release of a new book. This one was made even more exciting and special because I invited three other author friends -- Leslie Kelly, Rachel Hauck and Karen Hawkins -- to sign with me and we pretty much had that B&N jammin' for two solid hours last night. (Kristen Painter was there -- looking stunning, as always!)

Each time I've held one of these signing/party events, I'm overwhelmed and touched and oh so humbled by how many people show up in support of my work. Granted, I'm "aggressive" in inviting them. I carry invitations everywhere the month before my signing, I invite strangers, friends, school moms, the person sitting next to me in the hair salon -- basically everyone I meet. No doubt there are plenty of friends who know I'm terrified the place will be empty and I'll be sitting in front of a stack of my books doing no more than giving directions to the cookbook section when someone walks in the door. But there are also just as many people who show up because they are a little in awe of what I do. And that is why I write.

Not to "awe" anyone, but because I've been given a gift that fascinates people who are, in my opinion, far more talented than I am. One of my neighbors, an anesthesiologist, is enthralled with my job. Where do you get the ideas? she asks. How do you know what to write? I want to say: where do you get the nerves of steel to keep seven people alive during surgery - in one day's work? The same from another friend, a high-powered attorney who runs her own firm. She loves my books and comes to every signing to buy several for her staff. How do you dream up these great heroes, she wants to know. How do you stand in front of a judge and jury and fight for someone's Constitutional rights, I want to respond.

The fact is, people are mesmerized by the ability to tell a story, to write a book, to create a world and make something extraordinary happen in it. Such a simple skill...to me. But not to everyone. So I write because some twist of DNA fate sprinkled storytelling dust on me during my conception. I don't write for the fame and fortune and glory...because, face it, I don't have any. I don't write because it's fun...every word is sheer torture and anyone who tells you differently is lying to you or themselves. I don't write because I want to lock myself in my office during gorgeous summer days and make stuff up and then delete it, make more stuff up, then delete it, make more stuff up, and then go back and read one of my earlier books just to reassure myself that I can do this. I surely don't write because I have characters longing to get out of my head, like I've heard other writers say. I have to dig to my own personal China to find those people, and sometimes they just don't want to tell me their hair color, let alone their deepest backstory, so I have to figure it out. I don't write because I want to be the next Nora Roberts, or because I want a mile-long line at my booksigning, or because I think it will get me on the Today Show. Honestly, I know that's all about as likely as winning the lottery (which doesn't stop me from buying a ticket every week.)

Nope. I write because I can. And when I realized that, I couldn't stop. Nothing could stop me.

Although I wrote for much of my career in PR, my work consisted of drafting annual reports, press releases, CEO's speeches and the occasional line of fun ad copy. I harbored a very secret dream to write romantic fiction -- what I loved to read -- but it just didn't seem like mere mortals could do something like that. One night, in 1999, I finished NOBODY'S BABY BUT MINE by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. When I closed that fantastic, delicious novel, I had one thought: I want to make someone else feel the way I do right now. I want to take this ride again, but this time, I'd like to drive. Can I? Do I have it in me?

And so, right then and there, I decided to try. Just try. For kicks, for a challenge. I'd love to say "the rest is history" but it was basically hell. :-) The story of how I sold and my brief career since my first book came out in 2003 (I'm now at 12) is not that fascinating (as a storyteller, I instinctively know that) but if you want to know, just ask. This is a hard job -- ask any working writer. The glam moments (like last night) are rare. The hair-tearing moments (like every working day) are common. But when I hand a book to that doctor, that lawyer, that mom I chat with in the car line at school...I am thrilled by the prospect of entertaining her with my story, delighted with the idea that I can make this lady fall in love with my hero, be scared by my villain, and relate to my heroine. That's why I write. Because I can, and that in and of itself is a simply marvelous gift that I treasure. And there's nothing in the world that's better than hearing from readers that I've succeeded in sweeping them away. (Remember that: feed an insecure author, write an email!) That is almost as good as that sea of faces I love at the booksigning -- thanks to each and every one of you who came out to celebrate!

And now I'm going to drag myself to the opposite end of life's spectrum...from the rush of signing 75 books to the challenge of hosting a Spa Sleepover tonight for my daughter's ninth birthday (today!). Eight little girls will be here for 15 endless hours tonight and tomorrow -- along with one professional manicurist, who is also one of my close friends -- and we will paint, glitter, gloss and celebrate that passage from lisping baby to eye-rolling tween in the girliest possible way. In the meantime, I will pop in here to read comments and questions and answer anything you'd like to know about writing, reading...and being the mother of a nine year old girlie girl.

Thanks for joining me!
xoxo
Rocki
www.roxannestclaire.com