Deb Tawna wants to be a beach read

I always wanted to be a beach read. Well, not me personally. My book. When I first began writing Making Waves, it was in the back of my head like a chant: Beach read! Beach read! Such a fun beach read! I’ve never been one of those writers who wanted to craft profoundly moving prose with a deep moral message. I wanted to make people laugh. I wanted to titillate….

Friday, June 17, 2011
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Deb Tawna isn’t well acquainted with the silver screen

I don’t watch a lot of movies. I know that sounds snobby, especially when I add that I strongly prefer reading books. It really isn’t some high-minded literary thing, I swear. It’s more an issue of attention span and the fact that I don’t have one. Books keep me engaged because I’m an active participant, but sit me down in front of a movie and I guarantee at least 50%…

Friday, June 10, 2011
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Deb Tawna’s pets have big ideas

I’m certain my pets are full of big ideas. It’s obvious in the way my dog will perk up her ears and trot suddenly out of the room like she just remembered she has an important meeting to attend. Or maybe she was struck by a brilliant thought about the best method for removing fuzz from her tennis ball. Alas, I’ll never know. I can’t read animal minds, which is…

Friday, June 3, 2011
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Deb Tawna sucks when it comes to goals

When I was eight, my parents signed me up for a soccer team. I’m certain the coach explained the fundamentals of the game, but equally certain I was too busy picking dandelions to listen. I had a dim notion I was supposed to kick the ball toward the goal, but it wasn’t until my teammates began screaming at me during the first game that I learned it made a difference…

Friday, May 27, 2011
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Deb Tawna would like to apologize to Dr. Seuss

I like to do it best at night With good wine and some candlelight. I’ll sneak a quickie during lunch. Or right at dawn with Cap’n Crunch. I often to do it in my bed When naughty thoughts are in my head. I sometimes do it in my car Three times I did it in a bar. I usually do it at my desk Not fully dressed, I must confess….

Friday, May 20, 2011
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Deb Tawna says you shouldn’t listen to her writing advice

When I started my blog, Don’t Pet Me, I’m Writing 15 months ago, I realized quickly that readers were looking to me for two things. No, I’m not talking about my boobs. My regular blog readers show up expecting cheap laughs and writing advice. I can offer the latter for the same reason a stuntman who’s broken every bone in his body can offer tips on helmet safety. I had…

Friday, May 13, 2011
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Deb Tawna’s topless book club made her an author

I’ve been part of the same book club for more than ten years. We’ve read good books and bad ones, classic literary works and racy erotica. We’ve supported each other through marriages and divorces, births and deaths. We’ve laughed together, cried together, and on one memorable occasion, watched our founding member strip off her shirt in the throes of a hot flash and continue the meeting in her bra. Good…

Friday, May 6, 2011
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Deb Tawna thanks Deb Sarah for taking her on vacation

When our new class of Debs started getting to know each other last summer, one of the first things I learned about Sarah Jio is that she’s from the Pacific Northwest. I’m a third generation Oregonian, so I was delighted to have someone else who knows the secret Pacific Northwest handshake (though Sarah seemed taken aback by the butt-pat. Do they not do that part in Seattle?) I wondered at…

Friday, April 29, 2011
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Deb Tawna’s parents are not scandalized by her books (so she must try harder)

This may come as a shock to you, but there’s sex in my books. Not on every page, but certainly on more than one. It comes with the territory when you write romance (though the fact that I write romantic comedy is what compels me to point out that I’ve already used the word come twice and haven’t even touched this week’s topic of family members reading our books). Where…

Friday, April 22, 2011
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Deb Tawna’s big breaks include bad drugs, nudity, and obscene gestures

We’re talking about “big breaks” this week, and I must admit, I’ve had several. The biggest break was my right arm the summer I turned nine. The bone snapped in two places, courtesy of an ungraceful dismount off a piece of playground equipment. The doctor made the peculiar decision to set the bone without the benefit of pain medication, a process that taxed my youthful arsenal of curse words and…

Friday, April 15, 2011
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