Be-Mused — Karen Templeton

On my way from kitchen back to my office, I passed through the living room, where The Youngest was watching, of all things, a rodeo. So naturally, I had to keep him company for a minute. Because, y’know, writing for Silhouette, I never know when one of those cowboys is going to knock on my door and demand to know where his secret baby is, so I’ve gotta be up on my researching and all.

However, I only watched for maybe twenty minutes (I swear!), but got to see calf roping, barrel racing, and bull riding. Oh, and a couple of very funny commercials for Pace salsa, one of which featured an obviously city slicker cowboy who makes a whole mess of knots in his reins in an attempt to tie his horse to the hitching post, only to then aim an automatic lock device at the beast and double beep it. Very cute. Anyway, thanks to reading about any number of out-of-the-game rodeo stars over the years, I always knew it was dangerous. But I’m here to tell you, those people are crazy. I don’t care if they do blunt the bull’s horns, there’s no telling where the dang thing’s hooves are gonna land, you know what I’m saying?

I gotta say, though, those guys (and gals) sure do know how to handle their horses. Mm-mm-mm. And for all everybody says how “real” cowboys are wizened and bandy-legged and so not anything like how they’re depicted in romance novels, most of those guys weren’t exactly ugly, either. In fact, some of ‘em were downright cute. If on the young side. But then, you’ve pretty much gotta be young (and reckless) to get on the back of a bull whose sole mission, during that eight seconds, is to get you off.

And my favorite name? Howdy Cloud. Is that a perfect cowboy name or what?

Every year about this time, I go through the should-I-or-shouldn’t-I? angst about entering my books in contests. On the one hand, historically my stories don’t exactly rock the contest circuit (Because they’re too out of the mainstream? Because they suck? Who knows.), but as my publisher freebies are now threatening to take over my house even more than all those catalogs, I figure I might as well do something more constructive with them than rearrange them every few months. Of course, entering the RITAs is a given, never mind the huge depression I go through every year when I don’t final. And I seriously doubt anyone’s sales figures have ever spiked from winning a regional contest. But still. All those books, so little space. . .

Anyway, my latest Romance Writers Report came today, and I found seven — seven! — published author contests I could, in theory, enter. I say in theory because a) I don’t have that many copies of my books lying around, and the thought of buying extra books to toss at contests makes my head spin, and b) at $25 bucks a pop, seven contests ain’t gonna happen. However, since I seem to be incapable of making a decision today (whether to order pizza or get Chinese nearly did me in), I thought I’d just download all the entry forms and figure out which books to send where — if at all — later.

Except here’s what happened: Of the seven contests, three entry forms either weren’t up on the chapters’ websites and/or required me to actually send a snail mail for more info/an entry form (as if), or wouldn’t print. And another couple, upon a half-second’s reflection, really weren’t worth the bother. So that left two. Two is doable. For both of my 2005 books, even. And that leaves me money/books for a couple more down the road, should the mood strike.

The rest of my life should fall into place so easily.