…we said, maybe. We also didn’t say July of which year. In life, as in publishing contracts, it’s the small details that truly make a difference.
The last time we posted here, our writing team was feeling a little shaky. It started like this: On the eve of an international trip, one of us wasn’t feeling so good, so we stopped at the local Emergency Room before heading to the airport. Honestly, we just wanted the doctor to tell us there wasn’t an Indonesian appendectomy in our future and we could go on our way.
Instead, one test led to another, scans were done, and the next thing we knew, we were told that Team Turner was in dire straits. We were told to see an oncologist STAT. We also needed to contact a surgeon, arrange a PET scan, see a GI specialist, plan on other imaging studies, and on and on….
With his radiology report in hand, the doctor was absolutely certain of his skull-and-crossbones diagnosis. There was no other possibility. We asked if it might just be stomach flu. He shook his head sadly. Oh, foolish non-doctors.
In a firm but kindly manner, he told us there wasn’t a snowball’s chance that terrifying scariness wasn’t in our immediate future. So, the trip was cancelled and a wedding we dearly wanted to attend was missed. Instead, appointments were made, scans were scheduled, and -- well, if you've been there, you know the routine. Tears were spilled, weight was lost, sleepless nights ensued.
After more tests, more scans, and one intensely personal invasion of body space, most of the results are finally in. It appears the ER doc was mistaken. He was a catastrophist, according to the surgeon we consulted. What we'd been told was a life-threatening situation is now looking like a pair of highly-reactive lymph nodes and...a bad case of stomach flu.
In case you're wondering, yes, we're not big fans of that particular ER doc.
It took a bit, but we've recovered our emotional equilibrium. Once we did, we should have remembered to return to this website and post a note. Then we could have told you that several of our stories have been translated into various languages since last we said hello but, unless you speak Portuguese, Italian, or Spanish as one of your tongues, it seemed unlikely you'd care. We meant to return but we were so busy writing stories under one of our other pen names, we forgot. We both thought we'd get to it later.
It turns out, much later.
When an internet acquaintance contacted us, saying she was sorry that we'd stopped writing, we realized we'd disappeared for a bit too long. Even though we haven't posted here for the past few months, one of us is usually at the keyboard every day. Under our "Anne Glynn" pen name (anneglynn.com), we’ve been posting fairly frequently. We've also been writing romance fiction that often includes a fantastical element. It's been fun. Sometimes, a lot of fun.
This wasn't the first time we'd written in the genre; Wicked Games came out under the R.H. Turner byline a few years ago. In that story, a younger woman falls in love with an accomplished artist-slash-werewolf, then she finds him cheating on her with another werewolf, and...well, complications ensue, as you might expect. The story came together nicely, the tale found a decent-sized audience for its publisher, and we decided we'd like to write more of such things. When the rights reverted to us, we changed the title to Twisted Games and the author's name to Renée Harrell. Once "Anne Glynn" started to get established, we changed the author's name on the cover once again.
As you can see, we aren't very good at keeping a pseudonym secret. After all, we made almost no effort there. We're only sharing it here and now because we trust you. You won't tell.
Currently, we're writing our first series under the Anne name. Set in the 19th century, One Bride for Seven Brothers received some stinging reviews but a little more attention because of it. Its success led to One Bride for Seven Brothers: The Sixth Brother, our first ever sequel to a story. In the last week or so, we've even released our first ever sequel-to-the-sequel, One Bride for Seven Brothers: The Fifth Brother.
We bet you can guess which story we're working on next.
If you'd like to follow what we're doing, Anne posts a blog on Thursdays. Usually. We haven’t managed to do a weekly post here for a couple of years, and don’t see us doing that here for, oh…say, another couple of years. Of course, things could change at any minute. Our experience in the ER has taught us that.
Assuming nothing startling happens in the next few weeks, what say we all get together again in -- July, maybe?
Reading: The Getaway Car: A Donald Westlake Nonfiction Miscellany. If you’re a Westlake fan, it’s a must-have. If you’re not a Westlake fan, check it out, anyway. (We mean, literally. At the library, where all non-fans should start.) The section where D.W. torches everyone who was anyone during The Silver Age of Science Fiction is truly jaw-dropping – and no wonder. He burned those bridge as his farewell from sci-fi.
Watching: We wanted to love The Legends of Tomorrow but, so far, haven't managed to do so. We enjoy Agent Carter and wish you did, too, but the ratings say otherwise. That leaves Gotham, which we've recommended before, and The Magicians. The Magicians is a little angsty, but still worth the view. Plus, the Syfy network is already promising a Second Two.
The last time we posted here, our writing team was feeling a little shaky. It started like this: On the eve of an international trip, one of us wasn’t feeling so good, so we stopped at the local Emergency Room before heading to the airport. Honestly, we just wanted the doctor to tell us there wasn’t an Indonesian appendectomy in our future and we could go on our way.
Instead, one test led to another, scans were done, and the next thing we knew, we were told that Team Turner was in dire straits. We were told to see an oncologist STAT. We also needed to contact a surgeon, arrange a PET scan, see a GI specialist, plan on other imaging studies, and on and on….
With his radiology report in hand, the doctor was absolutely certain of his skull-and-crossbones diagnosis. There was no other possibility. We asked if it might just be stomach flu. He shook his head sadly. Oh, foolish non-doctors.
In a firm but kindly manner, he told us there wasn’t a snowball’s chance that terrifying scariness wasn’t in our immediate future. So, the trip was cancelled and a wedding we dearly wanted to attend was missed. Instead, appointments were made, scans were scheduled, and -- well, if you've been there, you know the routine. Tears were spilled, weight was lost, sleepless nights ensued.
After more tests, more scans, and one intensely personal invasion of body space, most of the results are finally in. It appears the ER doc was mistaken. He was a catastrophist, according to the surgeon we consulted. What we'd been told was a life-threatening situation is now looking like a pair of highly-reactive lymph nodes and...a bad case of stomach flu.
In case you're wondering, yes, we're not big fans of that particular ER doc.
It took a bit, but we've recovered our emotional equilibrium. Once we did, we should have remembered to return to this website and post a note. Then we could have told you that several of our stories have been translated into various languages since last we said hello but, unless you speak Portuguese, Italian, or Spanish as one of your tongues, it seemed unlikely you'd care. We meant to return but we were so busy writing stories under one of our other pen names, we forgot. We both thought we'd get to it later.
It turns out, much later.
When an internet acquaintance contacted us, saying she was sorry that we'd stopped writing, we realized we'd disappeared for a bit too long. Even though we haven't posted here for the past few months, one of us is usually at the keyboard every day. Under our "Anne Glynn" pen name (anneglynn.com), we’ve been posting fairly frequently. We've also been writing romance fiction that often includes a fantastical element. It's been fun. Sometimes, a lot of fun.
This wasn't the first time we'd written in the genre; Wicked Games came out under the R.H. Turner byline a few years ago. In that story, a younger woman falls in love with an accomplished artist-slash-werewolf, then she finds him cheating on her with another werewolf, and...well, complications ensue, as you might expect. The story came together nicely, the tale found a decent-sized audience for its publisher, and we decided we'd like to write more of such things. When the rights reverted to us, we changed the title to Twisted Games and the author's name to Renée Harrell. Once "Anne Glynn" started to get established, we changed the author's name on the cover once again.
As you can see, we aren't very good at keeping a pseudonym secret. After all, we made almost no effort there. We're only sharing it here and now because we trust you. You won't tell.
Currently, we're writing our first series under the Anne name. Set in the 19th century, One Bride for Seven Brothers received some stinging reviews but a little more attention because of it. Its success led to One Bride for Seven Brothers: The Sixth Brother, our first ever sequel to a story. In the last week or so, we've even released our first ever sequel-to-the-sequel, One Bride for Seven Brothers: The Fifth Brother.
We bet you can guess which story we're working on next.
If you'd like to follow what we're doing, Anne posts a blog on Thursdays. Usually. We haven’t managed to do a weekly post here for a couple of years, and don’t see us doing that here for, oh…say, another couple of years. Of course, things could change at any minute. Our experience in the ER has taught us that.
Assuming nothing startling happens in the next few weeks, what say we all get together again in -- July, maybe?
Reading: The Getaway Car: A Donald Westlake Nonfiction Miscellany. If you’re a Westlake fan, it’s a must-have. If you’re not a Westlake fan, check it out, anyway. (We mean, literally. At the library, where all non-fans should start.) The section where D.W. torches everyone who was anyone during The Silver Age of Science Fiction is truly jaw-dropping – and no wonder. He burned those bridge as his farewell from sci-fi.
Watching: We wanted to love The Legends of Tomorrow but, so far, haven't managed to do so. We enjoy Agent Carter and wish you did, too, but the ratings say otherwise. That leaves Gotham, which we've recommended before, and The Magicians. The Magicians is a little angsty, but still worth the view. Plus, the Syfy network is already promising a Second Two.
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