A Long Long Wait

It has been 22 years since I had a new book launch. I've done a lot of writing during those years. I've had an agent, well, two agents actually, who have worked with me, one I found and one who found me. I've written book reviews, lots of them, for newspapers and for Amazon. I've written a screenplay that's being passed around, and I've kept this blog (granted not as much in recent years) since 2009, but that kind of writing doesn't count much to readers. It's book they want. And it's books I want too. 

At my core, I'm a novelist. I need that long form to create a believable world, and that time to bring characters to life. I will never be a mystery writer, or a horror writer, or anything that requires a heavy plot line. That just isn't my style. It isn't even the kind of books I read. I don't fit easily into a category. My novels are too literary to be genre romance, even though they are romantic. But they're not literary enough to be classified in that category either. They're historical, but not generic historical romance. They don't always had happy endings. Sometimes I like to write from the male point-of-view. A few times, the entire book has come from the male point-of-view. The main thing for me is it has to hold my interest. I figure if I can hold my own interest -- someone so easily distracted by life -- then maybe it will hold a reader's interest, too. 

Anyway, the point of this blog post is, my 22-year drought is about to end. I have a new book, my fifth one, finally coming out in just a few weeks. The official pub date is April 26. Here's the cover art. I have to admit, I'm pretty excited. I'll let you know when you can go buy a copy, because I just know you will want to do that, right? 

I started working on this novel in 2000, made two research trips to England, read a hundred-gazillion books on World War II. I sat in the cockpit of a Spitfire, and watched one fly in an airshow in Duxford where the Americans of the 8th Army Air Corps were stationed. I met the president of the Hurricane Fighter Pilots Association, who showed me all around the south of England to what remained of old airdromes. And I made friends with an American WWII fighter pilot, a real-life one, who flew and fought over the skies of Europe, a generous gentleman who gave me so much material it overwhelmed me. He opened his home to me after a single email, showed me his war chest full of souvenirs like his flight helmet and his bail-out kit, all still intact. We became real friends, phonecalls, lunches, library visits. He lived in San Antonio, it wasn't a far drive for me. I do so wish I could give Jack a copy of this book, but sadly he passed away a few years ago. I know he would recognize some of the good ideas he gave me. Our WWII heros are passing quickly. We have to cherish and honor them. They saved the world. (I believe the world is going to need saving once again. And soon.)

But back to the journey I traveled writing this book. In the middle of it, I got a divorce. My 34-year marriage, when it ended, stopped the writing. And then I met a new man, fell in love at age 54! and that stopped the writing, again. Who has time for writing when you're falling in love, learning about a new person, making trips together to places like to Ireland, and Montana, and Alaska? Oh, and did I mention getting a "day" job, which required, you guessed it, hours and hours on a computer. Last thing I wanted to do when I got home was sit in front of a computer for another few hours. In short, for the past -- let's say 15 years anyway -- I have been living my life, and mostly daydreaming about finishing this book. I even took to calling it The Endless Novel before I heard a line in an old WWII song and the real title finally came to me: 

"It's still the same old story, a fight FOR LOVE AND GLORY, a case of do or die, the world will always welcome lovers, as time goes by...."  

That's all. My big announcement. Next, comes the part I hate -- promotion. But that's a little bit of what this blog is all about, promoting. So I hope I haven't bored you to tears, or seemed too full of myself. It's more relief that it finally got done than beating my own drum. Now, let's see what happens with it. Keep. your fingers crossed for me!

Onward...