Christina Dodd Introduces Debbie MacomberDebbie Macomber is the most successful author I know well. She writes wonderful books that touch the human spirit and understand the human heart, and at the same time she's a shrewd businesswoman who has survived the publishing whirlpool which has sucked so many other authors down. She is ruthless about promoting her books (go to her website and check out her Debbie Macomber store with totebags, t-shirts, coffee mugs, coffees and teas!) and at the same time is one of the kindest people I know. Ten years ago, my husband and I had to come to Seattle from Houston because my brother-in-law had lymphoma, needed a bone marrow transplant and Scott was the donor. In the hospital, Scott went into the operating room and was put under while the surgical team removed a quart of bone marrow from his hips. It was an all-day affair and I was worried about him and my brother-in-law and didn't know what to do in a strange city by myself. Debbie and I knew each other, but not well, yet when I told her about it, she invited me to meet her. She took the day off and drove me to the bookstores in the area, introduced me to the managers and we signed books. This at a time when she was writing SIX books a year and every day counted! But I've never forgotten how kind she was and I'm sure that her prayers, as well as my husband's bone marrow, helped my brother-in-law completely recover from his cancer. How does Debbie do everything? Write, manage her office and staff, handle her publicity, be a mother, grandmother and wife, and be a friend to so many people. Down the page, Teresa asked Debbie to talk about how she uses motivation and goals to chart her course successfully in publishing (and in life!) and that's because we Squawkers know Debbie is the living proof that kind of positive thinking works. Posted: 01/14/2008
Christina Dodd Brings Warm Cuddlies to the SquawkersMy dogs are Lizzie (Miss Elizabeth Bennett) and Ritter (named by someone with no imagination, obviously not me) on the right. Lizzie was a stray we got from the pound, and at forty-five pounds she looks like a German Shepard who was washed in hot water and shrunk. She believes her job is to bark at any delivery men who threaten our house by dropping off packages and at the garbage men who steal our obviously very important garbage and take it away. Hey, a dog has to earn her kibbles somehow. Ritter we received to raise as an assistance dog for the handicapped (with CCI Canine Companions for Independence), and don’t let his angelic face fool you. At eleven weeks, he was hell-puppy, racing around like a maniac and driving Lizzie nuts. Me, too, come to think of it. But as he grew to a huge-ish seventy-five pounds, we trained him and trained him, and he got sweeter and gentler. By the time we sent him to advanced training, it was a horrible wrench to let him go. My husband said it was like sending our kids to college. Ha! Ritter never called, he never wrote … we got monthly reports, but that wasn’t the same as having him put his head in our laps while we rubbed his velvety ears. After five months, the training facility called us. Our little boy had flunked out. He’s afraid of (cough) large mascots — this started when he met a man in a (cough) care bear costume. Sad to say, Ritter is a coward. So while we were sorry someone in a wheelchair missed out on a great dog, we were thrilled for us. We raced down to the school in San Diego and brought him home. Now Ritter’s just a dog. Lizzie chases him around the yard, he rolls on his back in the grass, he chases his own back leg and frequently catches it (I don’t know why, I don’t ask) and he loves his life and he loves everybody. Except care bears.. Posted: 01/21/2008
Christina Dodd Says 'Duck!'So last night we had two charming guests, Donna and Monty, who dined with us, drank with us, and naturally admired our gorgeous Christmas tree which almost touches our sixteen foot eight inch ceiling. In fact, it was Donna and Monty who gave us this behemoth and we thank them with all our hearts — and that makes the evening’s events so much more appropriate. We were all in the great room after dinner, chatting and relaxing. Donna and I sat on the couch, Monty sat on a chair facing us, Scott was on the other couch, also facing us. The tree was off to our right. And right in the middle of the conversation, Monty who is a very erudite, articulate, learned man, suddenly shouts (and I’m quoting him exactly), "Ptrmmble! Shxzmnrt! Argk!" Later he said he couldn’t find the right words. Actually, the appropriate phrase would have been, "Timber!" Because the tree fell on us. It fell in slow motion (the plastic base cracked and the half-inch metal screws in the trunk bent) so Donna and I were able to scramble out from underneath, laughing wildly. (That’s Donna holding the coffee cup and Monte holding the tree while Scott gets a rope.) The guys righted it, tied the trunk to the stair railing and we all sat down and laughed some more. This was our first Christmas in our new house, and we loved our giant tree, we loved risking our lives decorating it, we loved the pine smell and the beautiful lights, and we’ll never forget this fabulous finish for a great tree. Posted: 01/28/2008 Back to Previous Page | Back to Blog Home |
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