Moments in Time: From Life to Romance
Sunday, February 14th, 2010
Hey everyone! I’m back at last, this time for the Classic Romance Revival Blog Carnival – a hugely fun activity for authors and readers alike, with prizes, top blogs and other surprises. Please add your comments to this post… I’ll be drawing three winners over the next two weeks (the duration of the carnival), one for each of my books. Also, commenting on all the blogs in the carnival puts you in line for the grand prize – a hamper of ARC’s from participating authors.
Winners for the grand prize will be drawn from visitors commenting on the most blogs. To qualify for the grand prize, you need to register for the contest. Please visit the Classic Romance Revival blog to find details of all the blogs and to register:
http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/?p=1671
You don’t want to miss out!
So what does “From Life to Romance” have to do with anything…?
I have it on the best authority, from innumerable sources – friends and otherwise – that if I wrote my life it would be a best seller. Having had the (dubious) privilege of experiencing more than my fair share of crises, calamities and catastrophes (most on a notably significant scale, lol) there’s no question that life, for me, beats fiction hands down.
Having a sense of humour helps, along with a somewhat perverse determination to find the funny side in the worst situations. It helps, trust me. Being able to have a good laugh, especially at yourself, somehow manages to make things more do-able… The other thing that helps is writing. Taking life experiences and transforming the icky ones by making them part of a well-crafted book, or preserving the wonderful ones that way, definitely makes me the winner. Most of my books have these little moments in time – things that happened that inspired a story, a situation, a scene. It also somehow grounds the book in real life, something that can be lost in the pursuit of fiction and which every good book needs. An anchor.
The thing with moments is they become memories, the good and the bad. Little milestones that measure life’s journey and built a road-map of where we’ve been and how we got there. I believe that, while we can’t alter what life throws at us, we can change what these experiences do to us, and what we do with them. It’s a philosophy that has kept me sane. I try to learn from the bad, then let them go and move on. But the good ones… I hang onto those, my little “happy pennies”, stored and jealously guarded in life’s piggy bank. On grey days I take them out, examine them, rub them a little so I can recapture the memory. They feed the soul and buoy the spirit, and the most wonderful thing? They actually earn interest, just from sitting in that little piggy bank… it’s called Hope, and it grows at a rate that is nothing short of astonishing.
My relationship with my late husband, Gary, is a case in point. For those who don’t know, he passed away just over thirteen years ago from bone cancer, and the last few years were fraught with all kinds of trauma, stress and heartache. They also provided some of the most precious “happy pennies” I have in my stash.
Gary was an unusual man. He seemed to simply fill the space he was in and then overflow. The whole world loved him, possibly because he had nothing to prove and was entirely happy with who he was. He was a real “man’s man” – fishing, hunting, 4×4’s, motorbikes… But was also the most romantic man I have ever met. How many men do you know who will take time out on a fishing trip to pick veld flowers for their wives?

That was my man, and I shall miss him forever. And on this Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share my most romantic moment…
So there we are – the Annual Hopewell Trout Angling Competition (yes, we used to go fishing together). It’s incredibly beautiful country, rugged terrain sketched in bold landscapes right on South Africa’s mountainous border with Lesotho.
It’s also an incredibly beautiful morning. The mist shrouds the dam, enveloping us in our own private world illuminated by the faint promise of the rising sun. Although there are a hundred or so fishermen out there, only the low, muffled murmur of voices and the odd faint thud of something bumping against a boat penetrate the wrapping silence. (Rule number 1: Never frighten the fish!)
I’m totally in awe of the dawn unfolding, feel the essence of it, as if the breath of it captures a timeless magic and this is a moment where wonderful things are about to happen…..
Being an incurable romantic, I go ahead and say pretty much that – whisper it really, more to myself than anything, because it’s just so breathtaking.
Gary gets The Look – the one that always manages to turn my heart to squidge – and out come’s Granny Flo’s ring…..
I promptly burst into tears (yes, I know, and I’m not one of those that cries beautifully either!) and then fling myself into his arms, nearly toppling the old tub that masquerades as a boat, and almost sending both of us and the bottle of champagne hidden in his jacket under the seat overboard….
It has to be the sweetest proposal I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve had that many, mind you, but if I had, it would still be the sweetest. And the most romantic.
And the rest, as they say, is history…..
That’s all folks! Happy reading, and don’t forget to register for the contest.
Take care,
Jude
Judah Raine
http://www.judahraine.com
Still Running, and A Thick Black Line…
And the award-winning The Look




















