Thanksgiving Blog Hop #2

In case you missed it, Brenda Drake is hosting a wonderful Blog Hop. 

Click on the link below the turkey to join.

Click Here!

Today's post is about my best friend, who also happens to be my husband. 

We met in art school, two of four students who actually showed up to Art History class in a blizzard. Apparently he spent the hour writing a note to his friend in New Hampshire about the cute girl in his class. *blushing*

Here I am at the time.

He was really preppy, I think he might even have been wearing a bow tie. I politely ignored him. Unfortunately I don't have a "Before" picture of him. 

But below you can see the result of my, um, influence. His family was none too pleased.

These are photos of our passport photos, taken just before we went to the U.K. 

Yes, it is a bit of a twist on the Pygmalion and Galatea story...because I did eventually fall in love with him.

In those days my creativity was channeled through hair gel and painting. He always cheered me on in art school, and told me my realistic portraits were great, even if everyone else was doing angry abstracts and conceptual work. And after some rough class critiques he cheered me up (I cheered him up too, of course). 

We got married and had a decorative painting business together for a couple of years - murals, faux finishes, that sort of thing. Our company was called Nymph & Satyr Designs. We never got sick of each other, even spending EVERY waking moment together.

But, I really want to talk about my husband and writing.

My very first attempt at a novel remains unfinished, but he read what I'd written and said I should keep writing, that I was good at it. He still thinks I should finish that book. 

It's called THE ISLANDS OF PENOBSCOT BAY. Look for it on bookstore shelves in 2030 or so.

He was the first person to read all three of my finished books. He read the first one at least three times, because I changed it repeatedly based on agent feedback. 

He helps keep me sane during the roller-coaster ride of querying, rejections, requests, more rejections, R&Rs, and so on. 

He keeps telling me "it will happen-don't give up" and I like to think he's right. We're even making a BIG move, in part so that I can keep writing and not have to go back to work full-time.

I'll always remember the moment he came into the kitchen, hugged me, quoted a line from my most recent book TENDRIL, and said "No matter what, keep writing. You are too damn good not to make it."
That made me cry.
Hopefully one of these days his faith in me will be rewarded. 

p.s. In case you're wondering, neither of us has a mohawk now.