In My Words: Kimberly Burton Allen, Writer

My father, Jim Burton, was not a reader. In truth, neither of my parents were bibliophiles. The bookshelves in our family room contained a complete set of Collier's Encyclopedias, a huge unabridged dictionary (both handy when we asked a question so my mother could point and say, "Look it up!"), a medical dictionary left over from Mom' s nursing days, and a literal handful of novels. After my siblings and I moved beyond the collection of Dr. Seuss, A Child's Book of Verses, and the complete Junior Classics, the only ever-expanding library in the house was mine. Dad was an aeronautical engineer, and while reading and engineering aren't mutually exclusive, in our household the only reading material other than the newspaper Dad perused (in the bathroom, where the magazine rack was installed) was IEEE (an industry pub) and Popular Science . Therefore, when I began to write seriously, the process wasn't something we could discuss. Oh, he'd listen, with a

"A writer writes." Except when she's doing her day job. Thus begins the time of year when I struggle with feelings of inadequacy (a writer writes! Why aren't I writing?) as days pass and all I've accomplished is a few notes jotted regarding a scene I am thinking of revising in my next book, CHOICE.* To be sure, it's not like I'm a stranger to the keyboard. I've spent the past month or so working on copy for our website -- we just launched a new and improved version, and we're very proud of it. It's marketing copy, the flow and purpose of which comes back to me from my previous life pre-A Butler's Manor. It's still crafting words, finding the feel. But it's not "writing." Or is it? The issue is, as usual, me. The perfectionist in me that somehow thinks that I can accomplish two things at the same time, both at 100% of my energy. And of course I can't. But the "shoulds" still hover in the back of my

When I first began writing seriously (meaning, I took myself seriously and took writing courses and joined writing groups and forums in order to improve my craft), one of the things I learned was that much of the discovery of what your book was about -- the theme-- was rarely apparent in the first draft. Or even in the second. It wasn't until you'd been through a few extensive rewrites that you began to see the theme. I noticed this when I wrote " A BUTLER'S LIFE, " about Chris's experiences as a formally-trained English butler. (Oh boy, don't get him started on the reality of domestic service vs. Downton Abbey !) A Butler's Life is a memoir, not fiction, so I wasn't consciously seeking a theme.  But an unexpected epiphany occurred as we read through the drafts I was editing. A pattern emerged. While Chris had never consciously realized it as it was never a caregiver situation, every one of his major career choices was made in response to his r

"I'd never guessed that little girl-next-door you could write such a book! Did that really happen to you?"  Maybe it's because my background doesn't include law enforcement or medicine, two fields that tend to see too many variations of how pain, suffering and death can be inflicted on other human beings. Maybe even authors like Tess Gerritsen  (a retired physician) or Linda Fairstein (a former prosecutor) get asked how sweet little women like them come up with some of their  more graphic scenes. (I'm positive that male authors never get asked this kind of question.) But probably it's because some of the first buyers of NET STALKER are, bless them, friends and family...who wonder what secret corner of depravity I conceal in order to write a story about a serial snuff killer. Truthfully, even my husband Chris gave me the wide-eyed stare when he read BLOOD EXPOSURE, my first novel. Actually, he got his first inkling of where imagination can take me whe

The goal this winter has been to bring my second suspense novel NET STALKER to publication, which involves not only final editing, but details such as securing permission for the lyrics I've used in the book and acknowledging them correctly. This necessary administrative "stuff" has been balanced by the creative endeavor of working with a graphic designer to get the cover just right. I'm really pleased with it. As I write, Chris is stretched out on the couch in our vacation rental in Laguna Beach, CA. Always my first reader, he is on the final chapters of the final draft of NET STALKER, which will go live on Kindle very shortly. Chris hasn't read the book since my first draft was finished lo, these many years (!!) ago, so I am on pins and needles to hear his response. As I've said before, I live sort of a split life: Nine months of the year all my attention and creativity is focused on A Butler's Manor, our bed and breakfast, on welcoming and enjoyi