Anyway, here’s the thing…my life is weird. It is a dichotomy which might give a lesser person whiplash. It certainly hasn’t done much for my sanity–or perhaps it has. Maybe it’s saved me, because when one part gets too annoying, or stressful, or [insert adjective here], I can swing to the other parts of my life and breath a sigh of relief at the serenity of it all, embracing the pure oppositeness.

What am I talking about? Let’s take a look at today and I’ll show you.

This morning I had an internet browser window open to the Inn and Spa at Norwich with another window open to my 5 friends’ many, many emails in my inbox with another friend on the phone trying to figure out our girl’s trip away.

Swing to the other browser I had open and you’ll find the site for the American Quarter Horse where I was downloading their PDF about Cowboy Manners and procedures throughout history. (Hey, it might make for good blog or research materials or at least an interesting read).

Guess which browser window made me feel serenely calm and happy when I looked at it and which one had me ready to tear my hair out?  Am I weird that I’d rather stay home in my little farmhouse on my little farm and read about cowboys from days gone by? That the planning of this relaxing spa trip may put me on Prozac before we’re done? Probably. I guess I don’t do anything normally. My Netflix queue looks like it belongs to a schizophrenic. I’ve completed the entire season of Animal Planet’s The Last American Cowboy (a reality show about 3 Montana cattle ranches trying to survive), and I’ve also watched the entire season of the PBS Masterpiece Theater historical British show Downton Abbey. And I found both equally fascinating.

Anyway, I guess balance is necessary. After all a girl can’t live in PJs and survive on cowboys alone. Once in a while I have to leave my house and see actual live people and do things, if only to build fodder for more books to write. But sometimes, it would be really nice to hide out for a while. After all, that cowboy manners PDF is still waiting to be read…

Cat

As I’ve mentioned here before, my friends and I are foodies. We get together weekly at one house and basically cook and eat together. I won’t say it’s exactly like the scene in the movie The Big Chill, but I’ll admit there is sometimes singing, and even once some dancing…long story. Anyway, we fancy ourselves cheese afficienados–so much so that one among us (who shall remain nameless) was told by his doctor his cholesterol was too high. His answer, “It’s not my fault. My wife enrolled me in the cheese of the month club.” No it wasn’t me or my husband, but we do all love our cheese, and I love all things cowboy, so when said cheese lover with high cholesterol was shopping at Fairway and saw cheese with the above cowgirl logo on it, he picked it up immediately, and oh my God was it good!

The one we had was the Mt Tam. So creamy. So tasty. So expensive! (The small round we had was $20.) But oh so good. So much so I was intrigued, as much by the name of the company as by the cheese. Here is what I found out about them…

The company was begun by 2 women in 1997 in a small coastal town in CA. I LOVE supporting small business and women-owned businesses even better. This artisan cheese is actually made in an old renovated barn–another thing I love to support–the reuse and repurposing of old buildings. For this handmade cheese, they buy organic milk from their neighbor. Yet one more thing I love–supporting America’s small farmers, not to mention how environmentally friendly it is to use local resources rather than trucking things from across the country, or worse, from another country.

You can read more about the Cowgirl Creamery and their philosophies regarding not only cheese, but also preserving rural life HERE. And even if you can’t buy Cowgirl Cheese where you live, I bet there’s a farmer’s market not too far away that sells artisan cheese made locally with the same loving care from local milk farmed by…you guessed it, local cowboys and cowgirls.

Cat

Sounds like a romance to me. But I’ve seen reader reviews calling it “one sex scene away from being a naughty nooner”, and “hot but NOT a romance”.

Seriously? One sex scene in a 30,000 word story makes it “porn for women”? Apparently so. And so, dear readers, I have become what I’ve been wrongly accused of. A porn writer. I am now writing what amounts to porn with plot. Why fight it when I apparently can’t? And apparently I shouldn’t, based on sales.

I wrote and released, all with no prior promo, a 40,000 word erotica eBook. A RED hot menage with cowboys! EDUCATING ANSLEY went live on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords and ARe late Tuesday night. By the end of today, Sunday, I will have sold 1,000 copies of a book that contains scenes that make even me blush.

To protect readers who actually do think my other books are romances, I’ve released Ansley under my new erotica imprint Cat Johnson RED just so everyone knows exactly what they’re getting, what to expect. And you should expect a lot more scorching hot, uncensored, boundary pushing erotica in the RED line.

To the readers who said my sensual romances are porn…I’ll show you porn! LOL I guess I’m just obstinate that way and you know what? I smiled all the way to the  top of  B&N’s Pubit and Erotica best seller lists.

Me: I need an idea for another cowboy book.

The Cowboy: Write about a romance writer who asks a cowboy to help her write a book about cowboys.

Me: Haha. That’s not very original.

Fast forward to 8 hours later when I awoke in the morning sleep deprived but with 5 handwritten pages of plot ideas and even dialogue I’d scribbled in the dark on a yellow legal pad next to the bed because the ides wouldn’t let me sleep. That book was Unridden, the novel that launched the Studs in Spurs series which I just sold the 4th book for, and it was about…you guessed it…a NY romance writer who goes to find a cowboy (or 2) to help her with her romance novel about cowboys.

The plot went a little something like this. Quintessential New Yorker flies to Oklahoma for a romance convention and finds there’s a bull riding competition in town the same week so she takes the opportunity to do some research for her new cowboy book. Thereshe meets two bull riders who teach her a thing or two, and not just about the sport.

Now, let’s fast forward to a time in the more recent past. I’m paraphrasing the IM conversation here but you’ll get the gist…

Julie: We need to find a real authentic cowboy bar to go to while we’re in Austin TX for SxSW.

Me: You Google it. I’ll go ask some people I know on Twitter who are from Austin for a good bar.

Julie: OMG there’s a rodeo in town the same week we’re there! We have to go for research. I’m writing a rodeo book.

Me: *speechless as the plot of Unridden plays in my head*

So yeah, life is imitating art in a pretty freaky way and my fellow author and I will be heading to Rodeo Austin March 14th.

I should be used to this kind of stuff happening by now but I’m not. Not one bit. 2 things I totally made up and wrote into the plot of the next bull rider book Hooked, which I finished mid December, came true almost immediately after. By the time it releases months from now people will think I copied the actual events and wrote them after the fact ,when in fact it’s the exact opposite. What can I do about that perception? Not much.

Anyway, I leave for SxSW in less than 2 weeks–my brand new cowboy boots for the rodeo are ready to travel to Austin. The question is…am I?

I suppose you’ll never know because you know what they say–what happens at Rodeo Austin, stays at Rodeo Austin.

I wanted to take a roadtrip from NY to NC to watch the professional bull rider I just started sponsoring compete in the NBR Finals. Guess what? I got my wish. The hubby and I made the decision Tuesday night and Friday morning, predawn, loaded SUV and all, we headed south and kept going until we hit Raleigh, NC and the Hunt Horse Center.

Did we stay at a 4 star hotel? Nope. I found one for $59 a night with free breakfast and WiFi. Did we eat dinner out at fancy restaurants? Nope. We  fell in love with the drive-in burger joint, Cook Out, across the street where they made the best damn burger, hush puppies, onion rings and shakes we’ve ever eaten so that we went there each night after the rodeo to eat. Did I dress up in nice lingerie? Nope. Didn’t even bring a dress. Jeans and cowboy boots were the uniform of the weekend, for both of us.

Did I have the best time of my life? Hell yeah! To each his (or her) own, I suppose.

Happy Valentines Day to everyone!

Cat

Anyway, I’ve recently discovered ropers. I’ve alway loved cowboys, and I specialize in bull riders in my books but while watching the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas last December (mainly because I’d sponsored Makin8.com’s trip there to broadcast from the event live–thinking out of the box…) I noticed the tie-down ropers. The ropers are hot all on their own, but they also come with some very interesting equipment… Not THAT kind, though I’m sure that is true too. I’m talking more about all the ropes and strings they use.

There’s the rope, of course, that they use to lasso the calf. Then there is that shorter, thinner string they hold in their mouths while roping (something about that is very sexy to me–perhaps I’m orally fixated.) That is the piggin’ string and it’s what they use to tie the calf’s feet together. And that’s when my wonderfully warped brain began to work. What else could you tie up with that string? Hmmm…

That’s how my newest release Texas Two-Step came to be about tie-down ropers, and their creative use of piggin’ strings with the women they love.

Enough said, you have to read it for yourself.

Let’s Buck–or rope, or string…

Cat

My life truly is a strange dichotomy at times. I’m just back from a weekend full of PBR–the NYC Invitational and the opening weekend of the 2011 season. For the first time, I brought my friends with me. You have to know the background to appreciate this. These are the people I attend Broadway shows with. People who have lunch with the mayor, are on a first name basis with celebrities and judges alike. The people who I go to high-priced fundraisers with…and I brought them to the bull rides, with interesting results.

They loved it!

No I don’t think they are going to be rabid fans, but they have come to enjoy and appreciate the sport, and perhaps now will stop teasing me for doing so.

I do have to say, the recent gorilla marketing of the PBR, particularly in the NY area, has brought the sport of bull riding to the masses and the city folks alike. It’s working too. I have never ever attended an event where every single ticket scalper that approached me outside the venue was looking to BUY tickets rather than sell them, which goes to prove, the bull riders and the toughest sport on dirt can hold their own in the toughest city on earth if they can sell out Madison Square Garden.

Let’s Buck!

My first real post here in October of 2009 (after a quick welcome message) was about my first experience watching the Professional Bull Riders in CT. Read it here.

Little has changed since I wrote that post. What was different was instead of driving out and back for a single event, this year I got tickets for all 3 events and became a temporary resident of CT for that weekend. I got a behind-the-scenes look at the bull housing and got up close and personal with both the bulls and the stock contractors for a fascinating tour. And instead of being just an fan, I also volunteered at the Rider Relief Fund booth helping them sell raffle tickets to raise funds to support injured bull riders before each event.

As far as my feelings about ‘what is sexy‘, they haven’t changed much over the past year either. The cowboy who got knocked out cold then jumped up to walk out of the arena under his own power. The rider who narrowly missed getting hooked with a bull horn by leaping nearly into the laps of the front row spectators yet still took the time to pose for a picture while hanging from the rail. The competitor who got bucked off before the buzzer but still smiled anyway, just happy he’d had the chance to try. And all the cowboys who, though the event was over, took the time to come back out onto the dirt and greet the fans waiting there for them. That is what makes a man sexy–going above and beyond what’s expected. It doesn’t matter if a man wears chaps and spurs, or a business suit, I truly believe it’s what’s contained inside–radiating from their heart and soul–which makes a man sexy.

Yes, the great bard was correct. The world–life–is a stage and at times I wish the contracts would expire for some of the bit players in my own life so I can either kill off their character or hold an open call and recast them–but I digress…

Today I’m here to talk about my own personal stage appearance and what it’s doing to me. Like sand through an hourglass, the moment of my live appearance at Lady Jane’s Salon Romance Reading Series at Madame X in New York City grows nearer. And in anticipation I find myself unable to sleep. I lay awake at night tossing and turning, my mind spinning in that zone between sleeping and waking where problems seem insurmountable, and where everything appears to be a problem.

This really makes no sense to me. I was a tour guide for 7 years at one of the hottest sites during the 90s, where reporters, museum curators, British royalty, American royalty (ie: former and sitting US presidents, Rockefellers, Astors, and Martha Stewart) and US Secret Service agents were an everyday reality. To each and every one, during hurricanes and sweltering heat alike, through fainting guests and helicopters landing in front of us, I delivered my 2 hour tour flawlessly.

More recently I was thrown into the position of acting auctioneer for a local not-for-profit, where I had to sell the completely intangible the week the stock market crashed, and I did it, and then outdid the sum raised the following year.

I was both active member president and sustainer president of my local chapter of the Junior League and addressed large groups at monthly meetings. Hell, I host a romance radio show and sleep deprived and in the middle of a hotel lobby, conducted 27 interviews over a 3 day period.

Speaking has never been a problem for me. More like shutting me up is the issue. So what’s with the no sleeping? After all, it really is (as Warhol said) literally only 15 minutes of fame I must endure. All I need do is walk into Madame Xs, and then take the stage for a mere quarter of an hour and read from my own book the words I wrote and have rehearsed in advance. Then, afterwards, sit back, order a glass of wine and relax while I watch 3 of my fellow authors do the same.

I’m ready. I selected, printed out, timed and practiced aloud the scene I’m reading. I have my outfit chosen, right down to the boots. My bag is packed with my books and swag, easels, signs and banners, pens and markers, business cards and (just in case because you never know) double-stick tape.

Perhaps it’s my fear that instead of having a Sally Field moment (”They like me. They really like me.”) I’ll instead say thank you to a room full of people (or worse, empty of people) very happy to see me leave that stage. Who knows.

In any case, if you’re in the tri-state area and can make it into Manhattan on Monday, September 6th, 7 pm, it promises to be a fun night. Admission to the reading is either one gently-used romance novel or $5 (which goes to benefit a local women’s charity), drink specials are $5 (just about unheard of for NYC), and there will be giveaways, a raffle, books for sale and to win, and of course, readings by 4 local authors.

I hope to see you there, and if not, should there be a photo taken during the reading where my mouth is closed and my eyes are open, I’ll post pics of the action here afterward.

Cat

Lady Jane’s Salon Romance Series
Mon, Sept 6th 7-9 PM
Madame X
94 Houston St, NY, NY 10012
212-539-0808

This is kind of my philosophy too, for better or worse. Nothing inspires me more to do something than being told I can not, or should not, do it. Immature? Perhaps. Human nature? I think for quite a few of us it is.

I’ve seen this effect in others besides myself. For instance, the pro bull riders just had their World Cup last weekend. Each country has one captain, and he chooses 5 of his country’s best riders to compete in what amounts to the Olympics of bull riding. Country against country, the highest combined score wins. The Brazilian team captain chose 4 out of his 5 riders, but seemed to be dragging his feet on the last rider. The choice of who that 5th man should be was obvious, but yet the captain refused to name him. When he was questioned regarding the delay he’d respond with things like, although the rider was good he wasn’t a team player, he didn’t listen to instruction, there were other men who could be chosen instead.

Meanwhile, what did the rider in question do? I don’t want to misquote statistics, but last competition I saw he had completed his 5th consecutive 90-point ride, which if you don’t know the sport, is pretty damn amazing. He was breaking records, proving himself to the man who said he couldn’t do it. Yes, he finally got named for the team at the last possible minute. And guess what? It was his ride that clinched the world title for his country.

Being told “no” is a powerful motivator and I make no apology that it is one of my strongest. Just say I won’t and watch me go…

Cat