KATHRYN R. BIEL: AUTHOR

I've been hard at work (which is why the blog has been suffering) on getting my fourth novel ready to go. Jump, Jive, and Wail  is going to the editor this week, which means I can finally tell the world about it. I was first inspired to write this story almost a year ago, while watching the Winter Olympics. I love watching the ski jumpers and thought that somehow, it would be cool to write a story about it. I happened to mention it to the lovely and talented Aven Ellis , and she encouraged me to go for it. I had to do a lot of research for this book, which is something that I usually don't have the patience for. Since I knew nothing about ski jumping, I had to really look into it. One of the things I found out was that women were not allowed to compete in ski jumping before the Sochi Olympics in 2014. Women from several countries worked together and lobbied (and sued) to get Women's Ski Jumping allowed in. Staff from Women's Ski Jumping USA ( http://www.wsjusa.com/

Forgive me if you've heard this story before. I need to tell it again. When I was in high school, I had a little bit of a hard time deciding what I wanted to be when I grew up. For a few minutes, I considered majoring in Communications. But I knew I wanted to be in the medical field. But the commitment to schooling and student loans that went along with medical school intimidated me. I was considering physical therapy and respiratory therapy. Somewhere along this time, my next door neighbor was in a terrible car accident. He was thrown through the window of his truck and broke his neck. He was paralyzed. This was a hard thing to accept. He had been in my brother's class and I remember waiting at the bus stop with him. As one can imagine, becoming paralyzed in your early 20's can be devastating. It certainly was for this young man. His step-mother, a nurse, used to give me my allergy shots, so we'd talk about things every week when I was over there. I knew that he

Ok, in defense of both of my brothers, they probably drive just fine. I know one is a back seat driver, so I prefer to let him drive so he doesn't criticize me, but that's besides the point. This isn't about my literal brother but my figurative ones. Sisters too. I live in New York. Even though I'm upstate, we're sort of known for our aggression and the speed with which we do things. I lived for a time in Massachusetts, and it's even worse there. It's fine with me. I'm a Northeastern girl. I like to go-go-go. When I moved to Ohio, I was immediately and intensely frustrated by the slowness with which mid-Westerners move. They are never in a hurry for anything . Drove me crazy. Of course, I married a mid-Westerner. I don't know what I thought would happen. After 14 years together, he's still as slow and I'm still chomping at the bit. But for all the slowness in Ohio, I noticed something that we in NY tend to lack--friendliness. The first ti

I had a brilliant idea. Or a really stupid one. Only time will tell. It's November all ready. Whether we like it or not, the holiday season is descending rapidly. I like to keep Christmas out of my house until the turkey's been consumed, but that doesn't mean one can't start planning. Okay, so here's the deal (and I'm sorry but this is restricted to continental US only. I will send to APO/FPO addresses 'cause those ladies deserve this). Give your wife, mother, sister, bestie, kid's teacher or even YOURSELF a customized gift this holiday season. A personalized, autographed set of paperback books. My books, of course. Three paperback books, signed and shipped to you. Or directly to the recipient (but sorry, I don't wrap). One low price: $35. That's three paperback books (retail price $12.99 each), signed and shipped to you. One low price. What are the books and what are people saying? Good Intentions:   Plain and ordinary Mag

For a very long time, I avoided Pinterest. Oh, sure, I was invited and even opened an account. But I never went on the site. The reason is two-fold: self-esteem and time management. The self-esteem thing is this: all these people posting pictures of the wonderful things they've made. The beautiful cakes, the intricately decorated cake pops, the pumpkins made out of old books. All that stuff looks great. Except my stuff comes out looking more like something from a Pinterest Fail page than anything Pinterest-worthy. Finally, I realized this: So, then I avoided Pinterest because of time management issues. Namely, once I type in www.Pinterest.com, suddenly four hours have elapsed and I have nothing to show for it. I don't have that kind of time to waste. I need to keep up on Candy Crush. So, for me, Pinterest was not a productive thing. But then, my good friend, the super talented Jayne Denker , sent me her super secret Pinterest board. I was beta reading for her nove

Dear Son, Sometimes I forget where we started. Sometimes I forget how far you've come. Sometimes I forget what a long road it has been. Sometimes I forget how hard it is for you to express your thoughts. Sometimes I forget how hard things must be for you. Sometimes I forget that things are hard because you are still smiling. Sometimes I forget that you are aware of some of your differences. Sometimes I forget that you are oblivious to some of your differences. Sometimes I forget that you are autistic. Sometimes I forget that you are only ten years old. Sometimes I forget that you need time to play and be yourself. Sometimes I forget that you are not doing things on purpose to annoy me. Sometimes I forget that you need time to yourself. Sometimes I forget that you don't understand how to ask for help. Sometimes I forget how frustrating it must be for you to be a square peg. Sometimes I forget that the world doesn't always make sense to you.

Today, Biel Blather is being taken over by fellow writer and all-around funny gal, Jayne Denker. She's here to talk about her book, Down on Love , which is on sale this month. (Blog) Tour of Marsden, Day 5 In Which Your Tour Guide Swears a Lot; Or, Continuity’s a Bitch Hey campers. Are you still on the bus? We’re headed for Marsden, NY, the fictional small town in the heart of the Catskills that features in my rom com, Down on Love . If I sound a little subdued today, it’s because I have a raging headache, so if we could all play quietly as we roll along, that’d be great, mkay? What’s bugging me, you ask? I mean, sure, I was mighty perky on the first four days of the tour (see the full list of stops at my blog, http://jaynedenker.com ), but today I have one heck of a hangover. No, not that kind. A continuity hangover. I’ll try to explain; I just need a little pick-me-up first. Are you going to finish that coffee? Okay, see, continuity is like air—you only no

I should be writing. I guess I am, this blog. That is not what I should be writing. I should be writing my next novel. I'm in the home stretch, the last 25%. I need to buckle down and finish it. But, for the second time this week, I find myself watching movies on TV rather than writing. (Seriously, when people ask me how I find the time to write and I tell them I stopped watching TV, I'm not kidding. I really should turn the TV off right now.) Two days ago, I watched Gone With The Wind. Well, part one anyway. I fell asleep during the intermission. It was 11:30 p.m. and need to get up at 6, so that was probably a good thing. Tonight, I'm watching The Silence of the Lambs. And I've discovered a common theme. And now you're all scratching your heads trying to figure out what that theme can possibly be. I'll give you a hint. It's why I should be writing right now. Books. Gone With The Wind is my favorite book. I remember how disappointed I was when I saw

There is an ongoing battle in my house right now between my children and myself. I'm trying my damndest to make my little people into responsible adults someday. I see that as the end goal. Things are not going so well these days. School is in full swing, which means we're running a lot of the time. I actually keep the kids' extracurricular activities low in comparison, so it is not as bad as other families have. However, each one of my kids is having difficulty getting done what needs to be done. I am forever telling the kids what the plans are for the next day, what the plans are for the day, what time we're leaving, etc, etc, etc. The kids are preset for what we have to do and when we have to do it. But then everything falls apart somehow. It is the givens, the constants that my kids can't keep up with. Like changing underwear, brushing teeth, eating breakfast. These are things that happen EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. and somehow my kids can't seem to do them withou

When my husband and I bought our house eleven years ago, it was surrounded by trees. Many of the houses on our street had trees or shrubs blocking the front view of the house, since we live on a very busy main road. Our first summer, we took down those trees, giving us view to the street and neighbors. And it is because of this view that I am so sad. We have a neighbor across the street who has been an inspiration to us. When we first used to see him out (which was all the time), we referred to him as "Old Dude." Because he was. He was in his mid-eighties when we moved in. This guy was a dynamo--outside, working on his yard all the time. He has every gadget known to man, including an ATV and little lawnmower tractor that he would use to tool around his yard in. Over the years, we watched him take down trees, smoke out moths, trim shrubs, all from his ATV. Seeing him get out of the car to get his mail, we understood why. The years had not been kind to his back and standing u

Like pretty much every other mother right now, I'm digging my way out of the trenches. School has started. Yipee! Crap! I love this time of year. I dread this time of year. Three weeks into school, we're now in full swing. Dance lessons. Cub scouts. Girl scouts. Music lessons. Soccer. Religion. Not to mention school. And homework. Always the homework. I feel like every moment of my kids' day is scheduled. And while it keeps us running, I hate it. I hate when my ten year-old literally begs me for ten more minutes at night so he can play. I know he needs his sleep but he needs his play as well. Fifth grade is serious business. They're changing classes and are responsible for managing all their materials, moving from class to class. It's a hard adjustment for most of the kids, and then add on ADD on top of it. Throw into the mix consequences for missed homework (read: detention) and stress is at an all time high. Here's the breakdown of our afternoons: The

I listened to a LOT of music when I was writing I'm Still Here.  Sometimes, I can't listen to music when I'm writing, but this story required me to. I can't explain why, just something about the feeling of it. As I was writing, songs would catch my ear and I would include them on my playlist for the book. Every so often, I would hear a song while in my car and have to say the name over and over until I could stop and write it down in my notebook so that I could remember to include it on the playlist. Here are the songs that made the playlist. A lot of them set the tone for Esther's past relationship with her twin sister Aster. Some of the songs go directly with a scene in the book--try and see if you can figure out which! ·     Carry On by Fun. When this song came out, it made me think of an acquaintance who had gone missing and was later found to have committed suicide. I could not fathom why she would make the choices she made and this song always made

As my third book, I'm Still Here , is about to go live on all markets in about 7 hours, I wanted to publicize my thanks to those who have made the book happen. I'm not sure it is the vogue thing to do, but I put my acknowledgments in the beginning of my books, rather than the end. I know that people tend to skip over this part, but to me it is important to include all the people who make my writing career a possibility. As I have been acknowledged in a few books, I have to say, it is so cool to see your own name in print at the beginning of someone's book. So, here are the people that made I'm Still Here  happen. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS To my bestie, Michele Vagianelis. Yet another story that would not have been written without you. Oh, and make sure to thank JV for the spam email I supposedly sent to him that got this all started. I had an incredible team of beta readers on this project. Without their collective insight, suggestions and encouragement, this book

I've often been asked what is one surprising thing I've found since publishing. My answer on my latest interview was to say the people who I don't know who have come out of the woodwork to support me. Now it is my turn to pay back some of that support. I'm about to publish my third novel, I'm Still Here . The main theme of the book is finding family. The main character, Esther, has to learn what it means to be family. As the back cover blurb says, "... blood does not always mean family." While I do happen to have a wonderful biologically-related family, I also have a family of friends and a family of other writers. As I'm on the cusp of publishing my latest work, one of my fellow writers is going through a very difficult time. Although we live in the same community and know some of the same people, we've never met. We've liked each other's posts and shared each other's links, but we've never met. But I know that I need to do som

My mom always made our birthday cakes. And, of course, as a child, I wanted nothing more than the bakery concoctions with mountains of frosting and brightly colored roses that could induce a diabetic coma. However, as I grew up, I realized I don't like most bakery cakes (unless they're chocolate with chocolate ganache). I was attracted to the intricate designs. I wanted my cake to look pretty (not that my mom didn't do a great job. She did. There were no fancy roses or intricate piping though). Then, when I was in college, Martha Stewart came into the picture, establishing an impossible xenith of decorating and home keeping. I have no where near the talent and skill it takes to be Martha, but dammit I'm gonna try. For years, I spent Christmas Eve frosting sugar cookies in six different colors of royal icing, just so they looked smooth and professional. They looked nice, but my mom's round ones with cream cheese frosting taste a whole lot better. For my wedding c