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I just returned from a wonderful trip to Montana where I traveled to Kalispell, Great Falls, Missoula, Helena, and then to Couer d’Alene, Idaho. I had several book events in Kalispell. I spoke at a book club (always one of my favorite kind of events), a luncheon, and a Court Appointed Special Advocate’s (CASA) training class. I have such respect for the CASA program and the efforts made by their volunteers. It is a thankless job and always takes a great deal of time to do the job well. I was especially impressed by this group in Kalispell.

I also got to see my dear friend, Marilee, who was such an incredible hostess. My only regret is we didn’t have enough time. Next time, Marilee…

In Couer d’Alene I met with a Head Start group. They were fantastic and made me feel so welcome. This is a group of women who work so hard every day with our children. Thank you to all our Head Start employees.

But it wasn’t all work. I spent time with my two brothers, my nieces and nephews, and a few very special friends. We made lefsa (an old family tradition), played cards, barbequed, went boating, and had a great visit. It’s such a different lifestyle there, not at all like the hustle and bustle of southern California. All in all it was a fabulous trip.

Sweet Montana life…

The Advocate’s Dilemma, book #4 in The Advocate Series, has it’s final look!

For me, this is one of the most exciting parts of this process. When the cover is designed it seems to give the book life.

My new book cover designer has been wonderful. So, if you are an author and are looking for someone easy to work with, reasonably priced, and good at what she does, please contact me and I’ll give you her info.

What do you think?

The fourth book in The Advocate Series, The Advocate’s Dilemma, will be released this summer and I’m still enthralled by the process, from start to finish. I don’t know how other authors feel, but here’s what it’s like for me.

I formulate in my mind some little idea of what I want to write. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a first line. Or an ending. Or a “what if?”

Then, I sit down at the computer and look at a blank page, sometimes with very little idea of what I’m going to do. Then I start to write. Every day (or nearly so) I get up and start writing again. Before long, I’m filling up pages and pages until one day I reach the end. It amazes me every time that I was able to write a whole book.

The editing process is next. I really like this part. It’s when the novel really starts to take shape. My editor, Marilee Wood, is wonderful!

I spent three days at Barnes & Noble in Palm Desert last week.It was the first Meet & Greet  I have done with the new book, The Advocate’s Conviction. I was thoroughly amazed at the number of readers from the desert that came in the store to purchase a copy of the third book. It was nice to hear all the wonderful things they had to say about the first two books and to see how excited they were to start the third. Thank you, Desert Fans, you made my day.

Every event it seems I meet so many nice people and some of them are quite entertaining. This time was no different. A woman and her mother came into the store. The mother, I would guess, was at least in her 70’s, maybe more. When I asked them if they read mysteries, the older woman shook her head, made an “icky” face, and said, “Oh, no.”

I had just handed them each a bookmark and the daughter realized I was the author. She said to her mother, “Mother, you’re insulting her. She’s the author.”

The mother said, “Oh, I’m sorry.  Let me see your book.”

They walked over to my table and started reading the blurbs on my books. The mother said, “Oh, my daughter, Wendy, would love these. She loves books about legal stuff.”

“Is she an attorney?” I asked.

“Oh no,” she said again. “She works for an attorney. She does all the work and he gets all the money.”

I smiled and said, “That’s the way it should be.” She frowned at me and I said, “I’m a lawyer.”

Her daughter turned to her mother and said, “Now, you’ve insulted her twice!.”

The mother said, “Would it help if I told you I’m not from this country? I’m Canadian.”

They bought two books, and we were all laughing about it when they left. A while later the older woman came back to my table to apologize one more time. I said to her, “I thought you came back to insult me again.” Of course I explained to her that I wasn’t insulted at all. She gave me a big hug. I love those hugs.

Teresa
www.teresaburrell.com

Rachel Harrie has this incredible platform-building campaign going on. This is her third one and it seems it’s a great way to work together with other writers. If you are a writer/blogger it would behoove you to check it out. I’m excited to be a part of it. The campaign timing is perfect for me with the release of my latest novel, The Advocate’s Conviction, just around the corner.

By the way, today is the last day to get on board. So if you’re interested check it out now. I think this will be a lot of fun.

Okay, so I’m trying to put a link on the “shield” but I can’t seem to get it to work. So if you’re interested in joining the campaign, please go to Rachel Harrie’s Blog Post. 

Teresa 

https://www.teresaburrell.com

My readers often ask me about the use of bad language in my books. I do a lot of book signings at bookstores and talk to many readers, and the one question I hear more often than any other is, “Does it have a lot of bad language in it?”

The concern is often not so much a prudish one, but rather that it detracts rather than adds to the story. I had one man tell me that he expects a writer should be able to come up with more creative words than he can hear every day on the streets. I tend to agree, although there are times when the situation just calls for it and without it, the scene loses authenticity. For instance, I had a scene in my first book where a hardcore methamphetamine user had just lost her children in court. She wasn’t about to say, “Oh, piddle-sticks!” So she said something a little more down to earth.

What do you think? Does it bother you when you see a lot of derogatory words in a book? How much is too much?

Teresa
https://www.teresaburrell.com

On Thursday, January 20th, I have the privilege of speaking to a graduating class for CASA, Court Appointed Special Advocate, also known as Guardian Ad Litems or GALS. This particular group is the 12th Judicial Circuit of Florida, advocating for children in Sarasota, Manatee, and DeSoto Counties.

CASA is an incredible organization where ordinary citizens volunteer to look out for the needs of children in the juvenile court system. The volunteers need to submit to a background check and go through an extensive training program. They are then appointed by a judge to advocate for the well-being of children who have fallen victim to parental abuse or neglect. The CASA worker (the GAL) fights for the safety of these children and often changes their lives in profound ways.

The GAL’s role is to get acquainted with the child and everyone in that child’s life such as the parents, teachers, relatives, social workers, etc. In the San Diego juvenile system where I practiced for twelve years, the GALs often worked very closely with the minor’s attorney. The volunteer then reports back to the court regarding the child’s needs and often with a recommendation for permanent placement for the child.

Being a CASA volunteer can be an extremely rewarding experience but it’s not always an easy job and it takes a serious commitment of time and energy. The volunteer must agree to stay with a case until it closes. I believe the average time is approximately one and a half years but I’ve certainly known cases to take much longer. I commend anyone who is willing to make that sacrifice for those innocent, little children.

I’m really looking forward to meeting with the next graduating class in Sarasota, Florida. I’m honored to be a part of their program.

Teresa
https://www.teresaburrell.com

I have the best family in the world, not the sanest, but by far the most loving. There were nine of us born to Forest and Clara in a little town in Minnesota called Fertile. (I’m not kidding.)

When my family celebrates, we feast, the Easter function at my sister’s house this year had over one hundred folks there. I counted one-hundred-four family members and friends and tables full of food.

When there’s an illness, not just the hearts reach out, but the bodies too. When my eldest sister was on her deathbed, every one of my brothers and sisters came to support one another. They came from Montana, Idaho, and different parts of California. We all huddled together in the hospital waiting room for five days. And when Sissy passed away we were all together circled around her bedside fingers entwined.

When there’s work to be done, they all pitch in. When someone has a dream they all encourage it. When someone gets married, graduates, is released from jail (I never claimed perfection), signs a book contract like “The Advocate,” or gets a job, no matter how big or small the event, this family cares and supports. That’s not to say we don’t fuss at one another. We have our share of feuds and fights, but eventually the love always overcomes.

We are one big, and I do mean big (at last count, I had one-hundred-fourteen nieces and nephews, that includes great-nieces and nephews), happy (most of the time) family—now that’s a Fertile family!

Dancing is one of my favorite pastimes. I don’t know whether I’m any good at it or not, but I still enjoy the dance floor. The motion, the swaying, the lively steps, moving with the music, it’s magical.

My favorite Garth Brooks song is “The Dance.” You’ve got to love the line—“I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss, the dance.” It’s really all about the dance of life. It’s the work. It’s the fun. It’s the accomplishments, the sweat, the deadlines, the creativity, and the laughs and smiles along the way. That’s what makes life so incredibly wonderful. They’re all part of the dance.

When I was about five years old I can remember going to town on a Saturday night with my parents. We would go to a bar called “The Sister’s Café” where mom would work and dad would drink. My sister and I would hang out. The old drunks would put money in the jukebox and then give us dimes if we danced. Looking back on it, I’m sure some of them were trying to help entertain us, others I’ve got to wonder. Anyway, as soon as we had enough dimes, we would go to the movies. Strange as it may seem, that dancing left me both feeling sentimental and scarred. But I still like to dance.

And what lyrics are better than Lee ann Womack’s “I Hope You Dance.”

And best of all, my favorite quote. (I don’t know who to attribute it to but I’ve had it on my wall for years.) “The reason the rain dance works is because they don’t stop dancing until it rains.” This reminder has kept me going many times when I wanted to give up.

What’s your favorite dance story? Did you dance or sit it out?