With: Christy McKee
Congratulations to "Marcy S." the winner in Christy's giveaway. Thank you to all who participated.
I am always fascinated when I read about writers’ professional lives
before they became writers, running the
gamut from waitresses, lawyers, marketing managers, college professors and
police detectives, to name a few. My path to writing began in television as a
weather person in Columbia, Missouri--definitely not my chosen role in TV news
but at least it got me into a studio and on a news set. Anchoring the news was
my ultimate goal, so this was a start. At the time, the weather set was fairly
unsophisticated. I controlled the rotation of my three weather boards by stepping
on a foot pedal on the floor. Back then, there were no computer generated
graphics and I showed weather conditions with low tech magnets depicting the
sun, rain showers and tornadoes on the state map. One dark and rainy day, during
early news, we faced one problem after another. The news and sports anchors were
fuming because the wrong video clips kept coming up. We were all tense and
wondering what else could possibly go wrong.
I had four tornado magnets on the board and one sunshine
up at the top of the state map. When I began my segment, the sun slithered south
on the state map knocking each of my tornadoes off the board. The anchors were
snickering at me and, though I was biting the inside of my mouth to keep from
laughing, I lost it, too. We all
dissolved into a mass of laughing hyenas. The GM happened to be in the control
room and was not happy. During the break he came into the studio. Before he got
a word out, the sports anchor vehemently voiced his displeasure about the constant
mistakes made on his baseball video clips. It became so heated, the sports guy stalked
off the set declaring, “I quit.” The GM said, “Christy, you’re doing sports.” I
didn’t know if it was desperation or punishment that prompted his words, but he
ignored my protests and jabbed his index finger towards the sports position on
the set.
Well, I use to be a girlie girl and knew next to nada
about sports, with the exception of the Ohio State Buckeyes. I looked at
the Chyron to read the departed
sports anchor’s copy. We were in
baseball season and as I butchered one name after another, like Bowie Kuhn, Moe
Drabowsky and Tim Plodinec, I saw my brief TV career circling the drain. The
minute we were off the air, the GM walked into the studio and I readied myself
to be fired. Instead he boasted we’d had over seventy-five call ins complaining
about me slaughtering the players’ names. He operated under the guise that there
was no such thing as bad press. To my amazement, my job still belonged to me.
A year later I got a break and went to work as a reporter
and morning news anchor for an ABC affiliate in Ohio, my home state. I was on
the right path now. It was a very stimulating
and exciting job, especially for a twenty something, single woman. In the news
department, besides our daily assignments, reporters had to do two evergreen stories a month. These were timeless
human interest stories that could be used as filler on light news days and,
because of the creative latitude, I loved doing them. Because of my interest in
creative, I had the opportunity to write and produce some local advertising
spots for the station’s in house accounts. In my mind a thirty second TV commercial
was basically a mini story that sold a product. Commercials were fun to write
and produce but I wanted do to more. When an opportunity to join an advertising
agency came about I made the decision to change career paths. Between working at
the ad agency and doing free lance work on the side, my professional life as a
copy writer took off. I wrote and produced everything from TV/radio commercials
for local shopping malls to a syndicated radio show for a national hearing aids
company.
Beginning in my teens, I became a voracious reader,
cutting my teeth on Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux and Susan Elizabeth Phillips.
Could I expand my talents and become a storyteller, too? Romantic Times was
holding a conference in Savannah—at the time I lived in Athens, Georgia.
Without any knowledge of RWA, or writing and publishing, I signed up to go.
When I arrived, I felt like a fraud. Just because I could write TV commercials
didn’t mean I had the talent or fortitude to be a successful fiction writer. Propelled
by a fresh wave of self doubt, I scurried through the busy hotel lobby, passed
Fabio posing with his adoring fans and up to the sanctuary of my hotel room.
I’d made a horrible mistake in coming. These women were writers; I was a hack compared to them. They would sniff me
out and know I was a fake.
Then I remembered the sales pitch I’d given my husband
about why I wanted to attend the conference. There were many solid reasons I
was here. With resolve I chastised myself for being such a chicken and changed
clothes to attend the welcome cocktail party. I still remember getting on the
elevator, my nerves a jangled mess. I almost didn’t see the older woman beside
me. She was from Oklahoma and had more
than a dozen books to her name. When she learned I was a newbie, she reassured
me that I would enjoy myself and she would introduce me to her friends. An hour
and a half into the party, I was amazed at how much I had in common with these
women. They had stories playing inside their heads, too. By the end of the
conference two days later, my confidence was bolstered and my conviction to be
a fiction writer was steadfast. I knew I was in the right place and I’d found
my true calling. As writers we have to set new goals. Mine is to hit the big
screen or a Hallmark or Lifetime movie. To be able to see my characters at the movies or on the small screen would be
fantastic. Since I started out in television, I’m hoping I can get there
again—if only to be a viewer.
Gabrielle March grudgingly
returns to her small Georgia hometown to take up the reins of her late father’s
newspaper. Her career outlook is bleak
and her finances desperately need resuscitating. Out of the blue, a strange letter arrives
that will change her future and rewrite her
past.
Instead of resting on his
laurels and trust fund like many of his friends, Pierce Hastings
is a key player in the
success of Atlantic-Hastings International.
When his mother tells
him she’s handing over a
large block of shares to a beautiful stranger–he knows the lovely Gabrielle is
up to no good.
Thankfully, first impressions are not always
reliable. Pierce and Gabrielle might
discover they have more in common than they imagined, if only an old enemy of
her father’s doesn’t kill her first.
Excerpt:
Pierce climbed back on his raft,
trying not to let Gabrielle know how
pissed he was. Shit. First, he misses out on his favorite vacation of the year.
Then, some nutso driver forces him to plow into his wild flowers and this
monster dog destroys his day old sunglasses.
“So, how’s old Max going to make it
up to me?” Let’s see how creative old Max’s imagination can be.
“He says he’ll be your jogging buddy
for the rest of the weekend.” She threw his niece’s plastic yellow duck for Max
to fetch. “You do jog, right? Because if you don’t, you definitely should,” her
voice turned snippy. “Especially since your stomach is such a concern.”
It took almost all of his control
not to pick her up and flip her ass over end. He ground his teeth instead.
“Tell Max thanks for the offer. I do ten miles every morning. Think he can keep
up?”
Her green eyes narrowed. “You? Ten,
really?”
“Really.” So what if it was closer
to seven; old Scarlet didn’t need to know that. He took hold of her float and
pulled her up against his, startling her. With his other hand, he took her arm
and pretended to examine it. “Free weights should help you shape these spindly
arms of yours–give you some definition. There’s a fitness center at the house.”
Pierce was rewarded with the flash
of anger in her eyes. “Why thank you, Mr. Hastings.” Honey could have dripped
from her lips. “My boyfriend thinks I’m perfect.”
“Ah,” he said. “Probably a wimpy,
nerdy kind of a guy. A writer, maybe,” he snorted.
Giveaway:
Christy is giving away a signed print copy of MAYBE TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE to one lucky person leaving a comment or email entry!
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That is the same thing for me. I know nothing about sports. I was more of a bookworm than anything. My coordination was so bad that I was just plain clumsy playing sports. It took me awhile to finally got my sport coordination together. I wasn't even cheerleader material. Being a teen was not fun for me.
ReplyDeletekmccandle(at)yahoo(dot)com
Great post, Christy! I enjoyed getting to dig into your background a bit more. Seems we never have time to explore that side of ourselves when we sit down for lunch. Hope to see you soon.
ReplyDeleteBecky, I think we need to have a longer lunch!
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh Christy, I can't believe you were a TV anchor. My life has not been nearly as adventurous. When I was growing up my friend Kathy and me would spend hours in her bedroom writing stories. As kids do, over the years she and I lost touch. I had plans back then on graduating high school, getting a job, leave the confines of my repressive parents’ home, and find a roommate to share rent with. I wanted to live where I could be my own boss and do as I pleased. Two hours into my first job ever, Kmart, I was tired, my feet hurt and I’d already gotten yelled at once and the store hadn't opened for the day yet.
ReplyDeleteIt was there and then I decided to go to college.
I received my education degree and began teaching art. Forward 24 years and I run into my friend Kathy, from all those years back. She’s been writing this whole time and now has at least 10 books to her credit. She asked if I’d kept up with my writing and when I said no she urged me to start. She more than helped me get started and I’ve been having fun with it ever since.
As for Kmart? Everything is a learning experience. To this day I have no qualms about walking up to one of their phones anchored to a supporting poll, dialing 5 and calling over the intercom for customer assistance. My husband is always mortified.
What do you know...I worked at Kmart for a semester during college. Remember the blue light specials? It is really great that you and your friend Kathy re-connected and she inspired you to write.
DeleteInteresting job
ReplyDeletebn100candg at hotmail dot com
I loved hearing how you started out in the work force, Christy! I'm rooting for you to go full circle and have one of your stories make it to TV. :)
ReplyDeleteMarcy Shuler
bmndshuler(at)hotmail(dot)com
Thanks, Mary. I hope so, too!
DeleteLoved hearing about your background, Christy! Best of luck with your writing career!
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed your post, Christy.
ReplyDeleteWhat interesting careers Christy had before she became an author.
ReplyDeletemce1011 AT aol DOT com