Before the interview, take a look at the blurb for Jamie’s book, The Matchmaker.

YOU CAN RUN FROM YOUR PAST

The dead always have a story to tell. All he has to do is wait for the truth to be revealed to him. The living trust him with their grief – and their dirty little secrets. Only then is he able to ensure that the dead are given the happy ending they’d been deprived of in life. Only then can he set about playing matchmaker, uniting the dead with their true soul mates … for all eternity …

BUT IT WILL CATCH UP TO YOU

Exhuming a body over a contested will is the last thing former FBI profiler Greer Lomax wants to do. Just the thought of it brings on the panic attacks she’s fought for two years. Now, as deputy sheriff, Greer Lomax is going to have to face her darkest fears. Becaue the body she’s exhumed isn’t alone. He’s joined by a young woman whose name is on a missing person’s list.

WITH A VENGEANCE

The one person Greer can call for help is FBI agent Ash Keller. Ash hasn’t forgotten the hot blonde with the too-sexy smile – the one who spend many sizzling nights in his bed – and he hasn’t forgiven her for leaving him behind when she quit the Bureau. But he’s not about to let her go solo on this one, not after last time. Working the case sparks the fiery attraction they’ve tried to deny for too long and unleashes a passion they can’t control – one that could blind them to the most dangerous mistakes of the past …

Okay, Guys, Here is an opportunity to learn a lot about writing, about author Jamie Denton and her book The Matchmaker which will come out, very appropriately, on Halloween. Not that it’s a Halloween book, but it’s a thriller. To be exact, it’s a Romantic Suspense, but it’s heavy on the suspense…I didn’t even realize it was RS until well into the book.

And it’s not just because Jamie’s written oodles of books in the last thirteen years or so that I characterize her as the Writing Queen, it’s the way she does it…one draft then it’s out the door. Yeah, that’s amazing.  I wish I could have just a little of that kind of mind!  Read on!

Jamie, The Matchmaker is a departure for you as a writer. Talk a little bit about why you decided to write an edgy thriller. JAMIE, IF THRILLER IS THE WRONG LABEL, PLEASE CORRECT ME) instead of a straight romance.

Of all the books I’ve written for Harlequin, several of them do have a more suspense type of plot, although nothing as intense as what I’ve done in THE MATCHMAKER. But, I’ve always wanted to write more of a straight romantic suspense, and writing for Brava has allowed me the privilege of following that dream. Moving into romantic suspense was more of a natural progression for me as a writer.

You’ve created a creepy, dark serial killer in this book…without giving away the important stuff, how did you come up with the killer’s MO, his background, and motivations–basically, how’d you write such a grisly fellow?

Writing Parker was the easy part. I just didn’t allow myself hold back on his character. Sometimes he creeped even me out! When creating a villain, I generally start with the crime itself, then work backward and try to determine what kind of twisted individual it would take to do that kind of thing. In the case of THE MATCHMAKER, my husband and I were watching CNN one afternoon when the news of the crematory scandal in Georgia broke. My hubby turned to me and said, “What a cool way for one of your characters to hide a body.” That was it for me. The idea for THE MATCHMAKER was born.

You created memorable characters in your strong though tortured heroine, Greer, and the lusty, take charge Ash…what were some of the qualities you intended to imbue in them and what were some that just appeared in them as you wrote?

Forgive the pun, but my characters tend to rise from the ashes . As I mentioned previously, I tend to write backwards and the same is true of my hero and heroine. Occasionally a hero or heroine will “appear” before me fully developed, but that doesn’t happen as often as I’d like. My job would certainly be a whole lot easier, that’s for sure.

For the most part, I usually have to do lots of digging into characters’ psyche to figure out who these story people are, and if they’ve got what it takes to accomplish what needs to be done within the framework of the story I’ve chosen to tell. If they don’t have whatever that elusive “it” is, then why becomes the truly important question.

This is what intrigued me so much about Greer. She obviously felt she didn’t have what it takes to take on The Matchmaker, and for me, that was the challenge. Why didn’t she feel she was incapable of going after this guy, especially when she had the training to do so? So when we learn she’s walked away from a career as a profiler, I took it a few steps further, and the reader eventually learns everything she walked away from, and then why.

You manipulated several story-lines with Greer, Ash, and the killer’s being the most significant…talk about how you plotted out the intricate details of each of their lives.

This is a tough question. I think the most simplistic answer is dominoes. You know how you line up the dominoes, then knock over the first one and all the others follow? Each movement of the previous domino affects the next one. Yeah. Kinda like that.

Or maybe building blocks would be a more appropriate metaphor. Each block being representative of who the complete character is.

You’ve said before that you write your books one chapter at a time, in order, and when you’re done, you’re done. Did that process come naturally for you–the way you wrote your first one thirteen or so years ago–or has your process evolved?

Actually, I’ve been writing this way for so long, I don’t know that I’ve ever done it any other way. This doesn’t mean that I don’t go back do some occasionally tweaking, particularly when it comes to writing a romantic suspense. There are several threads that need to be pulled through on a story, and sometimes those get dropped. If I have dropped a thread, I need to determine why? Was it not important to begin with? In that case, it’s a simple matter of eliminating that thread. However if it was important, and I believe if it’s there, it is important some how. Regardless of however minor it may seem, then it needs to be pulled through so the fabric of the story is strong and doesn’t contain any holes.

That said, however, my process does change from book to book, and I’ve never really been able to figure out why this happens, but I’ve learned to go with the flow and not fight it. Some books I outline in great detail, so much so that by the time I’m done I have the shell of a book and all that’s required of me then is to layer the story. Other books start with an opening line and I just write from there, never working from an outline and the story just goes where it needs to go. Others I’ll outline some, or write tons of dialogue then go back and layer and polish until it’s right where I need it to be.

No one way is easier than the other, either, nor does one particular method of tackling a story provide me with more magic dust than the other to make it all happen. Some of those books that I’ve gone to great lengths to detail are more difficult to write than the ones that just happen from that first opening line. Other times, the ones that just happen are the more difficult because I have no idea where the story is going, but I couldn’t write an outline for that particular book to save my characters’ lives. I just don’t know what’s going to happen until it happens. I never know how the process is going to work for a particular book until I sit down and actually begin writing.

You made a clear cut decision to quit working to write when your first book was picked up in 1994. What made you decide to do that, to take such a big risk (knowing the prevailing advice in the business is don’t quit your day job)?

Actually, I didn’t quit working until sometime after I’d sold my second book. I was teaching paralegal students at a local university in addition to taking my own college courses at the time, working toward a degree in History. To say things were getting a little out of hand is an understatement.

Hello, my name is Jamie and I suffer from overachiever syndrome.

I’d just signed my first multi-book contract with Harlequin Temptation, so it was probably my third or fourth book by that time. When it came time to renew my teaching contract with the university, I declined. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, and one I warred with for quite some time, but in the end, it came down to maintaining at least the semblance of living a sane life. I was making good money teaching, but when I realized I was actually making more money writing, it was time to let go of something.

What’s your favorite part of the writing process?

The end.

I’m not being flip. I promise. For me, one of the best parts writing is the sense of accomplishment and fulfillment I receive every time I finish a book. Plus it means my office will get cleaned and the bathroom will no longer resemble a science project.

Knowing how difficult it is to succeed at the level you have, what is the most important thing for novice and frustrated writers to remember?

To never give up the dream. I suffered a horrendous bout of second book syndrome. I couldn’t sell water to a dying man in the desert during that period. And there were times I was certain I’d never sell another book. But someone said something to me that constantly nagged at me. “If I stopped now, I’d never know if the next book was the one that would eventually break the curse.” Whenever I wondered if the publishing window was closed to me forever, I remember those words and it kept me going.

So don’t give up on the dream. Study your craft. Work hard to find your voice as a writer and perfect your story telling abilities. If you stop, you never know if that next story is the one that will finally sell.

What are you working on now?

I’m currently putting the finishing touches on my next romantic suspense for Brava, tentatively titled PRIME SUSPECT, the story of a woman falsely accused of a brutal murder. This book should be available sometime in 2007.

In addition, I also have an as yet untitled Harlequin Blaze scheduled for release November ’07, which is part of a mini-series with friends and fellow Blaze authors Lori Wilde, Carrie Alexander and Isabel Sharpe. This one promises to be lots of fun, and whole lot lighter in tone than what I’ve been doing recently, followed, of course, by another romantic suspense for Brava.

We can’t get rid of strep around here.  Stay away if you’re smart. 

It all started with a friendly letter from preschool stating “someone” in Jake’s class had strep and to be on the lookout for it in my kids.

Sure enough, Jake got it, then Beth and I.  This better be the end of it, because I’ve felt like crap for six weeks now.  Very frustrating.

ANYWAY…

I’m rewriting the book that got rejected when my agent shopped it this year.  She’s going on maternity leave again, so that in combination with the work I need to do on my books she let me go.  She was nice about it…said to keep in contact, but she’s overwhelmed.  So it’s me alone again.

 But I took the feedback from the 10 editors who rejected it, looked for patterns, and have since rewritten with these changes:

Instead of three pov’s represented in third person, I’m doing one character in first.

I selected a few elements from the first book, combined it with the best elements from its sequel, changed the main character’s job so that it is a constant source of problems for her as a mom and a professional, and essentially written a new book from scratch.  Every once in a while I pull something from one of the other manuscripts, but for the most part I consider this a first draft of a new book.

MEANWHILE, my husband’s ex-uncle is taking a look at the second book I’d submitted to my agent.  She’d said it was quite good, but small and quiet…Bill’s uncle is a screenwriter…successful, etc. Of course I have my fantasies regarding his reading the manuscript “Yes, Kathie, I’m sending this off, NO, I’m driving this manuscript over to the Farrelly brothers’ office right now!  In fact I don’t even have time to speak right now!”

I’m well aware his reaction will be “eh!” with a shoulder shrug, or he’ll hate it, but what I’m really hoping for is a dialogue–what works, what doesn’t etc.  He’s a screen writer, but I think there’s a lot to learn from someone who has to write as tight and well as a screenwriter does. 

The best part of it is I have zero expectations for what he’ll think.  If he thinks he can reccomend it to an agent that will be heart-stoppingly tremendous, but if not, it was worth the try. That kind of thinking is unusual for me…

So, I’m putting together an agent package for the new book and will send it out mid-November!!!  If we can shake the illnesses…Man, that wipes me out.

 

It’s happening right here in little old Oakmont, PA.

I’m just assuming chipmunks and squirrels qualify as rodents…I don’t mean to mis-define them.

But they’re going stark raving mad. 

I suppose all the scrambling is related to winter coming.

They’re literally tackling each other in their frantic quest for acorns and materials to line their nests.  Seriously I saw a squirrel and chipmunk collide full speed in my yard.  Then I saw a chippy running so fast he was actually leaping across the grass like a dog might.

I can imagine the conversations when the family of chips calls it a day:

Mom-munk “Oh honey, I’m beat.  Every muscle in my body aches.  Could you give me a little rub…on my left haunch…pleeeeasse.

Dad-munk “Are you kidding I’ve been scrambling all day…did you SEE how many acorns I gathered today?  I wasn’t on vacation you know…massage?  Massage, my ass.”

Silence from Mom-munk.

“No seriously…massage my ass, honey.  I’ve got a cramp.”

Okay, that was pitiful.  But everytime I step outside these animals either creep me out or make me laugh.  They’re out of control.  And the toads…don’t get me started on the freaking toads.

Hope all is well with everyone…Just to let you know, I’ve got an interview with Jamie Denton coming up!!!  Keep checking back folks.

…We might be.

We live in Oakmont where most homes are situated in what I think of as the “main section.”  In the main section, the streets are numbered or named after States for the most part.  They range in age from over 140 years old to brand new (just a few in that category) and all the streets are lined with sidewalks.  We live in this little section set off from the “main section” which was originally part of some rich guy’s estate and was developed about 40 years ago.

Anyway, our section is made up of two circles and we’re in the lower one.  In the past ten years or so many new, young families have moved in, but there are also lots of older people living here.  This is nice for lots of reasons. 

Our house is located in what I refer to as the “geriatric” area of our circle.  We are surrounded by ranch homes that aren’t all small, but still, most young families aren’t looking for a ranch to house their four kids.  Across the street to the left is a home that has been occupied by an older couple who spend at least 6 months in Florida.  Their house was sold before the For Sale sign was posted in the yard.  It’s another oldish couple and they still have a home in Long Island…this is their second home…yea, another commuting older couple…who commutes from NY to Oakmont?

Anyway, I met them once and they seem very nice, but the woman’s a little cranky.  I’ll chalk it up to moving stress.  But finally arriving at my point is this idea that we might be viewed by them as crappy neighbors…

Last night the woman comes over and Bill answers the door. The dog’s barking, I’m cringing, listening for rumblings of kids waking up.  I ply Max with gobs of cheese to keep her quiet.  Bill’s out there for a freaking long stretch of time.  He’s sociable at the most impractical times…

When he comes back in he says the bottom line of the discussion was the time of day garbage is picked up.  I didn’t think much of it because….I just didn’t.

Then this morning, the first time in the three years since we’ve lived here, the garbage trucks come barrelling around the block at 7 am.  they normally come at 3 pm.  I look out the window to see the woman and a much older woman frantically hauling boxes from the garage to the edge of the driveway–after the garbage trucks have already passed.

“Bill, what time did you tell the woman the garbage men would be here?”

“10 am.”

He made that time up.  He had no idea what time they normally come.

“Well, they’ve come and gone and the woman is just now pulling out her garbage.”

“Well, they won’t like us much after this,” Bill said.

We hung up and I wondered if the woman came over hoping Bill would help her haul her garbage out.  If I was a better neighbor I might have made him go ask her if she needed help.  They were just empty boxes, though.  My oldest neighbors are completely self-sufficient.  It didn’t occur to me we weren’t being neighborly–I haven’t baked a banana-bread, taken a gift, done  ANYTHING remotely welcoming.  And now this.

I love that we’re not expected to be joined at the hip with our neighbors, but I fear I’ve gone to far with my nonchalance.  But they are from New York…they probably expect shabby treatment from the world, right?

All of you who make fun of the men in the world who treat the process of grilling hamburgers as though they’re fishing around in someone’s brain removing tumors should recognize how close the two processes just might be.  

Not that I’m a brain surgeon, but yesterday I tried to grill hamburgers.  Let me say I’ve never thought much about it.  Never thought it was easy, never thought it was a complicated affair.

But it was.  First of all I come from a family where any household apparatus that could even remotely cause a tradgedy is off limits.

No one in my family mowed the lawn as kids—we could lose a limb or at least a finger.  The guy who lived behind us did–point made.  Drilling, sawing, hammering?  Off limits until we had our own homes.

So here I am, manning the grill that I didn’t even know how to turn on.  Bill did that.  Then he went back to the very dangerous business of putting a bookcase together.  The entire time I’m tensed up so much I almost threw a cramp in my shoulders.  Flames are bursting as grease drips down.  The kids are bouncing around me shouting, “fire!, fire!,” getting closer.  I bat them back with the spatula…the one carrying whichever raw-meat disease the burgers have embedded in them…

I almost lost one burger in between the slats, but I saved it.  I tried to split one to see if it was done. Looked good to me.  The kids wolfed theirs down.  I thought mine was tasty.  Then I noticed Bill’s unenthusiastic response.

“What?” I said.

“It’s good,” he said.

“What’s wrong,” I said.

“It’s a little rare,” he said.  He pulled back his bun to reveal a little redness mixed in with the doneness. 

Shit.

“Do you think the kids are going to get sick?”

“No,” Bill said.  He rolled his eyes. 

I can’t stop watching the kids shovel the burgers into their mouths and I imagine them deathly ill in just a few hours, their laughing faces replaced with painful grimaces as I rush them to the hospital.

“Do you think the kids’ll get sick?”  I said.

“Noooooo.” he said.  Though, his expression made me think he wasn’t so sure.

See, if this had happened twenty-five years ago, hell if it’d happened last week, at my parents house.  We’d have been flying down the highway headed to Children’s “just in case.” 

Well, I think we’re well past the ecoli incubation period–everyone’s good.  But I don’t think I’ll be grilling agian.  Clearly, it’s just too dangerous.