I ROCK!

Why, you ask?

Because I just wrote a totally kick-ass love scene at Starbucks today. We're talking brave exposure of vulnerability, trust issues exposed and overcome on both sides, POV shift from female to male, AND the dreaded mutual orgasm. Fuck yeah, bitches!!

What was even better is that I took the time today to re-read the last 80 or so pages that I had written up to that point and they were clean and smooth and moved along a lot faster than I expected. Hell, I had my MP3 player on, the music rocking (dancing in my chair), and I was still able to read through and enjoy the emotional highs and get caught up in the push-pull of their fears and emotions.

I'm at a stage now that I distinctly remember from when I was ready to finish my last book. I've cast so many threads into the ether-- plot builders, character challenges, external conflicts -- that now I need to work on bringing them together in a way that will satisfy reader expectations, and my expectations, while still maintaining enough emotional tension to carry through to the last page.

I know of 4 things that have to happen in their lives before things will be set to rest externally. And just now they've taken a MAJOR step forward towards their HEA (that love scene) but I'm not sure what the black moment will be about. These things are revealed by the characters. It will have to speak to their deepest fears about themselves, but it can't be a Big Misunderstanding.

If you've been reading romance for more than a year, you know how nothing makes a wallbanger like a Big Misunderstanding. Instead, I hope, I really hope that my hero opens up to me a bit more (so I can put him through hell). Meanwhile, my heroine is a wide-open emotional wreck. She's just struggling to hold herself together.

It shouldn't be too difficult to wring a bit more angst from her. But I have to be careful not to give away the farm with her, not expose too much of her pain up front. Instead I have to piece it out to the reader, even though she's told me almost all of it by now.

Ooooh! I think I just found my black moment. The thing that has driven her to all of the painful choices she made in her life. And YAY, it ties in with one of the external conflicts. It's still a bit Big Misunderstandingish, but given that we're dealing with a category romance here and I'm already feeling pressed to work on wrapping my threads up, it shouldn't last too long. We'll just have to see how my hero deals with it all.






Currently reading: Caressed By Ice
Just about to start: B is for Burglar
Just about to start: Just The Sexiest Man Alive

Susan Boyle

I was going to make a post about Susan Boyle. Everyone's making posts about Susan Boyle. I started mine two days ago, but ran out of superlatives about twenty minutes into typing.

I wasn't going to say anything about judging a book by its cover. That's been stated a few million times already (There were 5 million You Tube hits when I sent the link to my mother a few days ago, now there are over 21 million. I think all the different ways to say "don't judge a book by its cover" have been covered.) What I was going to say was something along the lines of the importance of perseverance.

We ARE going to be judged by our covers. That's the way the world is now. The Idol phenomenon has built its reputation on holding people up for ridicule. It's not enough to have a little bit of talent, it's not enough to be "promising", you have to knock it out of the park every time, and you have to look good doing it. And that's just another part of the world we have built for ourselves.

But we don't all look good. We don't all come into our chosen profession already knowing how to hit a home run every time. We have to practice. We have to listen to coaches, and mentors, and learn, learn, learn. Susan Boyle stayed at home and practiced. She learned what she needed to know before she walked out on that stage.

Should we all wait 35 years before we reach for that brass ring? Hell no! Should we even wait 10? Who knows? But I do know this -- no matter how long we wait, the bastards will always be looking for a way to grind us down. The judges, with their shark's teeth, will always smile in your face and wait for you to falter.

So get out there anyway, yes they'll ridicule you. Yes, they'll mock you and make fun of you and reject you. But if you don't put yourself out there, you'll never get any reward. And yes, every time you go out there, they'll tear another strip off you and laugh when you slink away in shreds.

Until one day, they won't.






Currently reading: Caressed By Ice

The challenge is over

I heard about something called The 100/100 Challenge a few months ago. The basic idea is to write at least 100 words per day for 100 days. The person from whom I heard about the challenge left room for a weekend in there if you need one ... a five days on, two days off thing. Three consecutive days off and you have to start all over again.

The challenge isn't really about the amount of words you produce, it's about producing every day. If you write 1000 words one day, you don't get to take the next nine days off with a smug smile, thinking you're ahead of the game. To actually be challenging yourself you have to go back every damn day, whether you feel like it or not, whether you 'got ahead' yesterday or just did the minimum. Face that uninspiring keyboard or heavy, heavy pen every day and advance your story by at least 100 words.

I took the idea to my local RWA and got a few suckers other writers to commit themselves to the challenge. It started on January 5th--time enough for everyone to have finished with their holiday excuses, but still close enough to the New Year to feel like a resolution. I also opened it up to those who were editing with the miniscule goal of 1 page a day.

I am tempted to talk about how the group did as a whole, but the truth of the matter is, no one's writing journey is about anyone but themselves. So I'm just going to talk about the effect it had on me.

• I learned that I can write from home on a regular basis. This was about more than the challenge. It was also about saving some freakin' money. I like leaving the house to write, but it gets expensive, and I didn't want to use going out or not going out as a crutch, so with the small goal of 100 words as a target, I figured I could at least do that much from home.

• I learned that forcing myself to write doesn't put me in that amazing headspace that allowed me to fall in love with writing in the first place. But sometimes, when I forced myself to come up with words to fill the page, that headspace would take over and I'd find myself writing a few pages instead of just the minimum.

• I learned that the quality of my writing doesn't seem to vary, regardless of whether I'm in that headspace or not. At least not according to how it reads when I go back after a few days.

• I learned that I can knock out a page or two in the notebook before I go to sleep and that I can write in bed, in the armchair or on the couch. Even the patio. I don't even have to be sitting up. I just have to decide to do it.

• I learned that I cannot write every day. Some days the ideas, the voices, the inspirations just need some time by themselves to percolate. The two day forgiveness built into the challenge really saved my bacon. I never broke the 3 day rule, but I did take a full two weeks off in the middle when I had a death in the family and went home. I could have written during that time if I really wanted to, but I didn't. That time was about family, not work. For that, I am adding another two weeks to my personal challenge.
  

• I learned that being accountable to a group made me more likely to pick up the pen when I had frittered the day away without getting a single new word out.
  

• But I also learned that it whether I write the words or not, whether I report them or not, whether I rely on my crutches or blame my muse for abandoning me or whip out 40 pages a week, it doesn't matter to anyone but ME. It affects no one but ME. If I do the work, it benefits ME, if i don't, it only gives an edge to the author that DID finish her work.
  

So, at the official end of the challenge, I had only written 64 of the 100 days. But, in that time, I handwrote 121 pages, which, when typed into a manuscript (courier, 12pt, double-spaced) expands to 172 pages or approximately 43,000 words. That's not bad for a goal of a mere 100 words per day.






Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: Wicked Pleasures
Currently reading: In A Bind

They're on a precipice

My hero and heroine are jerking around.

They're not jerking off or jerking each other off, which I would at least be able to write my way around. No, they're jerking me around.

See, they came clean. They sat their asses down, after a couple of crises of confidence, and they admitted some things to each other about why they were behaving like dorks with one another. He talked about something deep in his past, she explained something that arrested her development as a woman and now they're on a precipice.

They don't know if they want to jump (into bed) or torture themselves on the edge for a while longer, or just take a deep breath and back away because they're afraid, they're very afraid.

I'm an idiot pantser. I don't know where I'm going until I get there. I rely on my people to tell me. And neither of them are talking. I haven't set up the scene to lead anywhere in particular. They could go any way they want (cuz, you know, the story is up to them), they just won't tell me.

There could be greater emotional closeness developed through sex that will lead to them both wanting more, but questioning if they're 'good enough' for the other. There could be greater trust developed through lack of sex that will lead to more sexual tension and questioning whether they're even wanted physically by the other. There could be a quiet, bonding nap with lots of holding and sensuality, or they could freakin' run out for dinner. Something. Anything.

Instead they're just sitting there. Marinating in each other. Feeling safe enough to share their insides, but really effing confused about what to do with their bodies. It's like every awkward high school date there ever was. Neither of them will open up to me. Neither of them will tell me "This. This right here. This is what I want."

This mini-rant has helped me though, because if they're going to act like awkward teenagers, that's what I'm going to write. Prepare for some inept fumbling, mixed messages and stunted emotional growth, kids. We're going back to high school.






Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: Wicked Pleasures
Just about to start: In A Bind

Why can't a paranormal author write a stand-alone book?

This is a lament I've heard a few times around Romanceland. People who are happy to read one or two books don't want to be tied down in perpetuity to a never-ending series and cast of characters that have more and more obscure powers and bizarre needs and complicated relationships to the original cast of characters.

Why can't a paranormal author write a stand-alone novel?

Because we won't let them.

We're romance readers. We're used to the set up. If there's a hot, nice, unattached guy who gets more than a mention or two, we're primed for a series. Sometimes, it's even better if the single person is surly, or wounded, or selfish, because then we're jonsing for that redemption. Oh yes we are. Sometimes it's the hella cool best friend, or ultra-wonderful sister, regardless, as romance readers, we are not happy with a poor singleton left without their Happily Ever After.

The paranormal author has a different job than the contemporary author. She has to build her world. She needs to people it with interesting characters. She has to make it feel real, but with strange situations--and there is nothing weirder in a novel than strange situations filled with weak, forgettable characters. Can you imagine? Can you even calculate how quickly we'd stop reading?

The contemporary author doesn't need as large a cast of characters to build her world. "At the mall." "In an insurance office." "At the race track." The mind doesn't need more than a few cues to put that world in place. The paranormal author though has to create a more insular world - after all, most of what makes these books paranormal has to take place away from the general public. Their secret world is not built out in the open. And a brand new world, where everyone is happily mated with the life-affirming person of their choice is a boring damn world.

So we demand it. We ask for new, interesting worlds, peopled with strong, interesting characters and then have a hissy fit when these people are left single at the end of the book (or complain there was too much going on and we didn't get to know the other couple when they find love in parallel with the primary hero and heroine.)

I'm not going to join the chorus of people decrying a paranormal author's "inability" to write a stand alone novel. Instead I'm going to vote with my dollars, just like I do with every other author. If the series bores me, I'm going to stop buying it. If I enjoy an author's writing, I'm going to be glad I get to enjoy more of it.

C'est la guerre, folks. We live in the world we create.






Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide
Currently Reading: Anyone But you
Just Finished: Bachelor Number Four
Just Finished: To Trust a Wolf

Character Dump

I tried to read a book today. I'm not going to list it on this page.

In the first eight pages of the book, I was introduced to almost twenty characters. WTF?!? Seriously? In the first eight pages I just kinda want to know who the heroine is, what she's doing, why she's doing it and where she is - plus, a nice little clue about why the power of True Love will make everything in her life better.

That's it.

I have no desire to know about her "next door neighbor's aunt sister's uncle Lisa's nephew who's calling trying to make his way through college." [Serious brownie points if you know where that's from without trying to google it.] I don't want to know these extra people. I want the hero, the heroine and a small cast of supporting characters. In a category novel you get maybe six extras, but that's at the upper limit. I'd prefer three - and most of them introduced during the story instead of thrown at me while I'm still trying to remember the heroine's name.

I was thinking some very uncharitable things about the author by the time I got to the second chapter. You know, the chapter where the story actually should have started because that's where the H&H met instead of on chapter one. Then I discovered that this was part of a series.

You'd think I'd have caught on much sooner - and normally I would have. 2 pages into the character dump I checked the author's credits. Nope. This was the first book in this series she had written, but she had about ten other books under her belt, so she must know how to tell a story, right? 5 more pages pass. Is she kidding?

I go back to the beginning of the book and start counting names. I get to fifteen, I'm only 7 pages in. I keep reading. Three more people are introduced after I flip the page. So I go back to the beginning of the book again. AH HA!!!

There it is, in the Dear Reader letter. Our esteemed author has been asked to anchor a multi-author series. I immediately forgive her for her sins. I don't know which great publishing mind came up with the idea of multi-author series, but I am here to tell you, with great and devout sincerity... They Don't Work.

This is another ass-biting column that I'm going to have to hide. It's okay, I'll tuck it away after the query letter goes out.

Multi-author series ... what's the best way to put this?
They're bad. They're just bad. It's not that the authors are bad, the stories are. There is so much made of "voice" and "characterization" that we as authors gotta get our shit together before we have a chance at getting published. But with these books, authors are made to write someone else's character in their own voice, or worse, in the voice of the author who was given that slice of the pie originally. It's awful. It's very, very bad. It does not work.

Have you caught on to how I feel about these yet?

This is the sort of thing that happens when "creativity" flows down from the publisher instead of up from the author. Someone storyboards a kidnapping or murder mystery and tries to sustain it through ten different couples in ten different books written by ten different authors. It's almost like hell, but there are more bridesmaid dresses.

At the beginning of the series you're irritated that the mystery isn't solved and there are so many threads left hanging. At the end of the series you feel like I did earlier today, asking who the fuck are these people and wondering why you're supposed to give a damn about a mystery that is nothing but a cold case by now.

So, in closing. Multi author series are bad. Single author series are good. Trickle-down creativity bad. Grassroots creativity good. Character dump bad. Info dump bad. My writing career if someone from eHarlequin ever sees this? Bad.






Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide
Just about to start: Bachelor Number Four

Learn as you go

I have mentioned before about the little voice in the back of my head that used to say, "You should write. You should write." I don't recall exactly when the auditory delusions started, I know they've been around for years, but I haven't had them since childhood or anything.

So, finally, I did write. Right before graduate school, wait, let me back up a bit more. When I graduated college... or maybe before I went off to it the first time?... things are blurry in the mists of time--but sometime when I was college aged, I made a note to myself of things I wanted to do with my life.

I don't know where the note went, I absolutely do not recall all the things that were on it, and I can say with certainty, that I'll probably be gray-haired before I learn to play an instrument. That's neither here nor there, because high on the list was "write a book." I'm sure I meant a romance. I've never had much desire to write anything else, except for this chick lit idea that's been knocking around in my head for the past 6 or 7 years. But it really only has a title, no characters or anything.

I digress. I do that a lot.

Anyway, right before graduate school I finally started my first romance book. I disciplined myself (back then I knew how to do that) and I sat at my computer for a set number of hours a day or something and tap-tap-tapped out a novel. I got 100 pages in. Not too shabby!

I also learned something, well, I learned a couple of things, but what stuck with me the most was that I can't talk about my plot or story too much while I'm still writing it. Something about opening my mouth and letting the energy of the story escape that way, prevents me from channeling the energy onto the page where it needs to be.

I was proud of those 100 pages. They're nothing like publishable, but I was proud nonetheless, because it meant that I COULD do it. I CAN create something novel-length if I put my mind to it. That attempt was halted by graduate school. My entire life was halted by grad school. Anyone who has gone knows what I mean by this, and those who haven't? Well, ask someone who has, otherwise this little essay would grow to gargantuan proportions.

My second attempt came a couple of years ago (5 years after getting that MA). I lunched with an old family friend in a foreign city. She's a romance author and I expressed to her my desire to write. She was about 88 years old at the time, and had nothing but kind encouraging words for me. I came back, sat down at the computer, and started writing again.

That book made it to a grand total of 5 pages. I wasn't ready for the work involved in writing. I had some enthusiasm, but not enough to carry me through the moment when I realized I didn't like how whiny my heroine was being. Instead of fixing it, I let it stop me.

Another lesson learned. Wanting it isn't enough. If you're going to accomplish something, you have to actually DO it. Discipline counts.

A year later I lunched with the friend again. She scolded me for not following through, and told me she'd expect to hear from me soon with a progress report. Upon my return, full of energy, I sat down for my third attempt. It was slow going, I didn't really know what I was doing, but at least I was doing something. Then I got called away - I was a month and 16 pages into my new attempt, but my family needed me on the other side of the country for 3 weeks.

I went ... and I found myself carrying around my notebook to doctor's meetings and on shopping trips. Hmmm... it sort of looked and felt like discipline, but I wasn't actually getting anything done.

In week two of the trip, another family friend entered the picture. He had a secret desire to write as well. We discussed it. We talked plot and character and story and arc. He's written three screenplays, and has so many more in his head. We'd always been friendly with one another, but over this, we bonded.

Boosted by his energy, I returned home and got down to business. I bought myself a laptop, and in the next 30 days, I managed to write about 70 pages. (handwritten, it was 50, but when typed into a MS it became over 70) I was determined to finish this time. And I did.

ORION'S KISS, my first book, is about 430 pages long, still unedited and a wonderful story. It took me five to six months to write and this time I wasn't just proud that I could, I was proud of the work itself.

Sticktoitiveness had paid off. I didn't want to lose my momentum. I liked being bitten by the writing bug and wanted more. Knowing that you need space from your project before you edit, I decided to fill that time with writing another book.

Bad idea. Not only did it take me a while to come to learn my new characters, but my old ones kept getting in the way, telling me this and that about their story. Things I should know about them, things that made a difference to them. I jotted down some notes, but I didn't give them my full attention. I was trying to work things out with my new people.

My new people are talking with me now, no longer second class citizens, but it took a while for us to get there. And now, I'm so far removed from ORION'S KISS, I don't know if I'll be able to give it the laser-pointed energy it deserves for a kick-ass editing pass.

Lesson learned. I'm a one book at a time kinda girl, at least until my publishing schedule demands otherwise ;-)







Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: Ceremony In Death
Currently reading: The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide
Currently reading: The Cost of Eternity

Gold, Jerry. Gold.

One of my favourite romance books ever hit all the cliches and kept on running.
Wallflower heroine who
Owned a bookstore and loved romance books
Mercenary hero (back when they were allowed to be mercenaries, instead of now when they have to belong to a secret government agency to commit random acts of murder)
Alpha (misogynistic) hero
She's a Virgin (capital V)
Marriage of Convenience
AND there's a Secret Baby

Bonus points for: her spunky best friend, foreign locale and a band of mercenary 'brothers' he'd give his life for. Oh, and cool nicknames too.

I mean, honestly - does it get any better??? All of this in a category too! Not even single title.

I rarely re-read books. There are so many new books out there and I remember the old ones too well to use up my time that way. But I still re-read this book every couple of years. It hits all the highnotes for me. Her vulnerability, his heroism, caring sex combined with post-coital where-is-this-going confusion, and he gets handed a little bit of humiliation as the price for being a jerkwad.

She grows from a woman who is afraid of living life into someone willing to take chances and stand up for herself. He grows from an asshole into a p-whipped Good Guy[tm] who's willing to change his entire life to make his woman happy. It's such mid-80s goodness I could totally barf.

I still can't forgive my high school friend for borrowing it, NOT READING IT, AND never returning it. I mean seriously, if you're going to lose my fave book ever, at least read it first. It took nine years for a re-issue and guess what, I don't loan it out. Ever.

In fact, last year, I got my bi-annual compulsion to read it and could not find it!!! I have a lot of books, it seems inevitable that some would get lost, or I'd misplace a few by thinking I held on to them when I'd actually taken them to the used book store a year ago. I knew that was not the case with this book. It is simply not possible that I would have let it out of the house again.

I sat on the ground in the bedroom and looked at every single book in my bookcase - and really, it is time to get rid of about a hundred of them - and I still couldn't find it. Luckily my local library had it in their collection and I was able to scratch the itch within a week.

Once again, it did the job. Crisis averted. Day saved.

The author has gone on to do some truly horrific work. Proof positive that even best-selling authors need to stretch their craft and grow beyond the box readers want to put them in. But no matter what came after, I'll always be grateful to her for those 250 pages of pure, unadulterated gold.

Oh, and I found my copy six weeks later, under a dresser that doesn't have room for things to fit under it. Go figure.







Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: Ceremony In Death
Currently reading: The Black Dagger Brotherhood: An Insider's Guide

This is somehow going to bite me in the ass, I just know it.

Maybe by the time it matters, I'll put this post on private for a couple of months and hide it in a closet, like when nosy relatives visit and you don't want them to see your privates, but for now I'm gonna let it hang out.

There is a site I read on a fairly regular basis, less so now than when I first found it, but I'm still there a few times a week. This site's authors claim to love romance books. They also review romance books. And they occasionally kibbitz with authors and other review sites to talk about books. But, their way of showing their love is to "take the piss." [A British expression that captures what I mean more than any Americanism I can come up with].

In taking the piss they find popular romance tropes* and mock them. They take the cliche, the stereotype, the hooks that have blown readers out of their chair time and again and mock it to the nth degree. While this does highlight how ridiculous some of our cliches can be when carried to the extreme, it also serves to undermine the taste and choices of the readers who love these books.

It is said, "sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." I have to admit, when I first got to the site, I snickered right along with everyone else at how 'witty' the authors were. But, like too many things in life, once you see past the shiny surface, there's something ugly underneath. Those who can, do. Those who can't, heckle.

I can't be entirely sure what prompts this ugliness - perhaps that old saw of building themselves up by tearing others down? Perhaps envy? Perhaps they really are ashamed of their reading choices and want to prove they're better than the average reader by showing how smart they are not to be taken in by the popular crap the rest of us fall for?

One thing is for sure, these authors could never, ever be agents or editors. While they seem to respect the writer (really) they don't seem to have much respect for the reader. I've seen them recommend books they gave a D to because, "I have to admit I couldn't stop reading it and hey, the writing sucked and the set up was totally ridiculous, but you know lots of other people loved it, so you'll probably like it too." Seriously? What does that say about your opinion of your reader?

Truthfully I don't think the site will last much longer in its current state. I give it nine months... two years max. I just don't think they like the genre enough to continue reviewing. And it shows.





* - "trope" is a word I've only ever seen online and in conjunction with romance blogs. Ever. Click the link if you need a definition like I once did.

Something evil has invaded my body,

something nano-sized and malevolent that introduced itself as innocuous while concealing its malicious intent. My trusty little gate-keepers let it waltz on in, and now, a week or two later, I sound like an old crone who has done nothing but smoke cigarettes and knock back whiskey for the past three decades.

In other words, I'm sick.

For a while there I had almost convinced myself that it was allergies, but allergies don't get progressively worse with more and more body involvement as the days go by. No, this is a good, old-fashioned cold.

I took medicine last night to knock me out help with the symptoms and when I woke up the symptoms had merely shifted around, but they were still there. Instead of having a dry throat, I had a completely dry tongue. Can you imagine? It's quite disconcerting, believe me.

This tells me that for a significant portion of the night I was a mouth breather. Of course, given that my nose was backed-up to New Jersey, that only makes sense.

But now I'm awake and trying to determine the best course of action to conquer the invasion. So far the only things on my list are
Lots of liquids,
Keep the tissues within arms reach, and
Put lip balm under my nose.

I think I'll have some soup. And maybe coffee.
And chocolate - chocolate is good for the soul, right? It's gotta be good for the body.






Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently reading: Ceremony In Death
Currently reading: Nothing in Common

Here's the scary truth.

I'm just going to put it out there so I can admit it, get over it and get on with it.

I'm afraid to edit.

I'm not afraid of it because I think that I won't be any good at it, or that I can't do it. I'm afraid of it because I'm worried it will bore me so much it will put me off writing.

I have been woefully unemployed for too long, and writing has returned a lot of joy to my days. Crafting stories, figuring out characters, allowing them to grow while still creating story arcs and something resembling a plot - it's all a blessing.

I'm good at it. That's one of the reasons it makes me happy. The other reason is that writing has finally shut up the little voice in my head that said to me, "You should write. You should write," every freakin' time I went into a book store for years.

So finally I gave in. I wrote. I'm writing. And I love it.

But editing? *shudder*
Editing is a re-examination of your story to chop it, and fix typos, and double-check grammar and tighten the language and take a mere story and turn it into art. But for me, the art was in the creation of the story.

I am one of those delusional people that thinks her first draft is pretty damn good. I am, fortunately, not delusional enough to believe that it's good enough for publication. So there I'll sit, with MS in hand, slaving over lines, and typos and double-checking if I really meant to use that word, noting incorrect POV shifts, re-arranging chapter breaks, and of course, adding new and exciting depth and language to a section to bring it more to life.

I know I'm going to have to get over it. Editing is part of being published. I can write all I damn want, but unless I'm willing to dissect my story, pull it apart, check its roots and then piece it all back together so that the sum of the parts is just as fantastic as the whole, then I can't call myself an author.

I do, however, call myself an author. So I'll suck it up and edit. But I can tell you right now, I won't like it.


Anyone else have editing woes? Share them.








Currently reading: Ceremony in Death
Currently reading: Things I've Learned From Women Who've Dumped Me

just one more

Good thing no one reads this blog, otherwise I might feel guilty for going on and on about the BDB series. But I don't, so here's one more thing.

I was talking with a friend tonight about the series, she introduced me to it and has been waiting (im)patiently for me to catch up to her. Finally, tonight, we had a chance to do that.

She's read the compendium, I haven't, so we're still slightly off-kilter, but we're pretty much even. We talked about the hero of Book #6, and she told me about how Ms Ward writes the characters as they come to her, but she doesn't sit down and do a moment by moment outline of her work before she starts the book. Instead her work is "character driven."

After much discussion with my friend though, we came to the conclusion that the hero of this book was not in the driver's seat. In fact, as far as I can tell, he wasn't ready to be a hero at all. I suspect (with absolutely no data to verify my point of view except the book itself) that this book was written because there was a contract that needed to be filled, and this hero was the story promised to the editors. But, the hero himself wasn't ready to come out and play.

What do you do when your characters won't get behind the wheel? Ms Ward gave us filler - filler that wound up being more interesting and more compelling and more real than the promised entree. In fact, I suspect her side characters looked at the hero, said, "Whatever, dude. If you're not willing to handle your business, let me handle mine." Then grabbed the keys and hit the ground running.

As an author though, what do you do? Your bit players are stealing the scene, but the work they're turning in is so good, you can't deny them the opportunity to shine. So you let them have their head, and they reward you with deep, honest moments that bring them to life. In fact, their robust, fascinating honesty winds up highlighting how stingy your hero is being with himself.

But you can't make a character talk to you. You can give him the keys, you can put him in the driver's seat, you can even put his damn hands on the wheel, but if he doesn't want to go anywhere, your character-driven story is screwed.

Those of us who are not under contract are actually lucky in this regard. We get to write the book that wants to be written. Our recalcitrant hero gets to stay in our heads, clipping his nose hair or bird-doggin' the chicas until he's ready to step up and be a man.

But an author under contract is stuck. The professional author must deliver the story that's promised. Whether her hero is ready to play or not.

It's the story of...

I understand now why agents and editors want you to be able to sum up an entire novel in a single sentence.

I just finished Book #6 of the BDB series, and by "just" I mean at 6 o'clock this morning, followed by 7 hours of sleep, then up to apply for jobs, pay the rent and write. Book #6 was another good book, another one I couldn't put down, but for different reasons than the first 5.

Book 6 wasn't a single story. If Ms Ward, with all her phenomenal writing prowess, had handed in Book 6 as the first book in the series it would never have been published (IMO). There were lots of things going on, many threads to follow, glimpses of the world outside the Brotherhood home that intrigued the heck out of me - but it wasn't a single story.

Further, the one story it was supposed to be about was the least compelling of the many stories told.

I do not say this to criticize, I'm going to be in line for Book #7 with bated breath. She has hooked me and I'm very happy to stay wiggling on the line. I say this because I now understand what agents and editors mean.

Subplots are great, world-building is essential, getting to know and care about the cast of characters that add depth and complexity to your hero and heroine are all elements of a Damn Good series - but you can't do it at the expense of the primary story you're telling. Or you can, but only if you have a very solid backlist holding you up.

Personally, I have difficulty working in subplots. I'm fine with introducing side characters, though I often have to rein them in as they want to stand front and center in the spotlight and tell their story, but I'm not that great at subplots.

For me, the story is about Person A falling in love and finding acceptance with Person B, and vise versa. The rest of their lives are important, yes, but it's their hearts I'm after. So, the romantic suspense subplot of solving the murder, catching the thief, or discovering the cowardly villain doesn't come naturally. I don't know if it ever will.

The good thing is though, I expect I'll always be able to complete the line, "It's the story of..." in one sentence, maybe two.







Currently Reading: Things I've Learned from Women Who've Dumped Me
Currently Reading: Tempted
Currently Reading: Ceremony in Death

world-building

I'm head-deep in the JR Ward BDB series. I cannot get my head out of it.

I'm the sort who likes to savour a good thing. If I read a Damn Good Book and it's the beginning of a series, I squeal with glee and then prepare to pace myself. 1, 2, 3 months between books is fine. I like it when I find out about a series when it's ten books in so that I can anticipate spending the next year or two enjoying the well-written goodness.

I read my first JR Ward BDB about eleven months ago. I started with Book 5 - a shocker to those of you who have been following the series. To me, who was just beginning to read paranormals as opposed to the straight contemporary romance, the book nearly broke my little heart. Ms Ward broke The Rules. She broke them hardcore. So while I could tell that she was a good author, and knew how to craft a compelling story, I was able to flit off and read other series and authors in the meantime. Book #1 could wait.

It did wait. It waited months... then, I thought, let me give it a whirl. I picked up Book 1 and Could. Not. Put. It. Down. Like, eyes burning, up way too late, can't even put it down to go to the bathroom sort of glued to the story. I had a headache when I finished. I was in looooooooooooove with her world when I finished. But I was still strong. Plus I wanted a bit of control back in my life.

So then, a couple of months later, after taunting me from the nightstand for weeks, i opened Book #2. WHAM! (and not the '80s group) It was like being body-slammed from the high wire. The book took me in its grip and would not let me go. I had this compulsive need to keep turning pages. I was tired, hungry, needed a shower - none of it mattered. I had to finish the book.

Well, clearly, this could not continue. It's all very well to enjoy your reading, but you can't let the books own you like that. I'm in charge. At least I'm supposed to be. Until the BDB comes calling.

So you know what happened next, right?

Wrong.

I stayed away. A few more months passed and I was able to stay away for all of them. But the books sat in my TBR, waiting for me, calling to me, promising me a deeper entrance into their world. Last week I gave in. Book #3. Another body-slam. I stopped trying to pace myself. I was like a pig at a trough. What's the point in self-denial? Who am I hurting but myself?

Book #4 came next, and within a matter of days too. I just needed to catch up on my sleep first. Then, because it had been so long, and so much had happened in the beginning of the series, I did something I rarely do, I re-read a book.

I just dragged my head out of Book#5 about half an hour ago. I started it within an hour of finishing Book 4. I am zapped. Drained. My head hurts. I am in desperate need of a shower. I need actual nutrition - not just coffee.

Book#6 is in my TBR. I have given up the fight. Tonight I will shower and sleep and make some veggies. Tomorrow I will start that book and not even bother to question myself. Everything in moderation - except the BDB.




How do you like to read a series? Do you gobble them up in as few sittings as possible or do you space them out, to be devoured as slowly as the author writes them?





Just finished: Lover Unbound
Just finished: Lover Revealed
Just about to start: Lover Enshrined
Currently reading: Ceremony in Death

Mixed Messages

Come here. Go away!
Look at me. Stop noticing me!
I want you. Don't touch me!

These people as characters can be incredibly interesting. The reader cant help but want to know what forces created a person that is so screwed up they fight against the very thing they long for.

These people as people are just annoying.
Sure there's a certain amount of intrigue involved - especially if you actually care about the sender of the mixed message. But if you barely know that person, if you haven't developed an emotional connection to them, you're more likely to just write them off as more trouble than they're worth.

But what if you have developed that connection? What if you DO want to get close, and touch and share and that person is still sending the mixed message. What then?

A long time ago, in my wee, distant adolescence I read a quote somewhere that stuck with me. Mr or Ms Anonymous said: Everyone deserves a second chance, and another and another and another. As many as the heart can endure.

I took it to heart. I live by it in my love life. Second chances. They're the backbone of a successful relationship, they're what keep us circling around each other until we are so fully intertwined that we cannot even fathom separation.

But there's the second part of that quote - the part that has become more important to me as my experiences grow. "As many as the heart can endure." That's really the crux isn't it? At some point you move from being a caring, forgiving soul to a doormat, willing to accept whatever dross is throw your way. Especially if it's all dressed up in gold.

So for me, I don't like the mixed message. It can work at the beginning of a book, it can work in the beginning of a relationship - but after a while only trust, plain-speaking and honesty will truly get the job done.

How do you sort out mixed messages?







Just Finished Reading: The Man Next Door
Currently Reading: Lover Revealed
Currently Reading: Ceremony In Death
DNF: A Family Practice

Sweet revenge

So, a few posts ago, I put an author on blast for writing Mr Perfect. (much to my astonishment, she's an author who frequents a blog I comment regularly, but that's a story for a different day) Two days ago, my hero put me on blast for making him too damned nice.

In the lingo, I'm a pantser. For those who don't know, it means that I'm an author who does not pre-plot or outline. I write "by the seat of my pants" and let my characters guide the story however they see fit. Writing this way can get an author into all kinds of trouble. You can write yourself into a corner, you can wind up with major inconsistencies that you have to fix on the back end during re-writes and edits, and you can wind up like I do - with a character that won't play ball, and you're stuck because you have no outline to guide you.

I started this second book off from the heroine's POV. I had this fantastic image in my head of this woman at a major turning point in her life. Her backstory didn't exactly write itself, but it came pretty damn close. All the things that fucked her up and lead her to this point make for a complex, vulnerable, resiliant character that is more than ready for a Good Man [tm].

So that's what I did. I gave her a Good Man [tm]. That was great for the first 100 pages or so... then things started getting a bit stale. The interactions and scenes had 2 - 3 times as many crossed out words as usual (a sure sign I'm not feeling the flow of the story) until finally, two days ago, it ground to a halt. My hero had what would be called a "hissy fit," if he weren't so manly.

Mr Good Man got in my face and said, "I'm not just a placeholder you know! I have problems of my own. I wasn't put on this earth just to serve the needs of your heroine. If we're supposed to be a perfect match, she needs to help me too." He was right. I had been treating him badly. He and I had to get together and spend "me time" on him.

He's not a bad guy. He's kinda beta, a risk avoider, likes to be prepared - just like a good Boy Scout, and turns out he's stubborn too. The heroine knocks his socks off, and he has some deep insecurity that he's not good enough for her - at the same time, he knows that there's no other man in the world who would ever treat her better or love her more than he does. Quite the pickle; insecurity and arrogance and humility all in one package.

We have more work to do, he and I. I have no doubt he will dig his feet in again if I try to paint him as too much of a white knight. He came back into the story fighting, and I wound up writing a love scene that I didn't know was coming. All in a day's work for a pantser such as myself.

But for now, I'm just amused and chagrined that I could recognize so clearly in another woman's work what I was unable to see in my own. I really need a critique partner. Any takers?

If you don't have anything nice to say, think of somthing

There's a constant low-level chatter on the net about critiques, about being "nice," about unfair and vicious reviews and the ubiquitous mean people. I'm of two minds about this. I believe in honesty. I believe in not taking things personally. I believe in karma and I really, really believe in paying a compliment when you feel one inside.

People have thin skins. There's a constant barrage of negatives in this world, and it's really all any individual can do to counteract that. To that end, I like to give compliments. If someone looks good that day, I like to tell them. If their eyes are pretty, if they did a good job, if I'm proud of them, if I'm simply grateful they're in my life, I like to tell them. It's important to have the folks in your life know, without a doubt, that you DO recognize the good in them.

Don't be stingy with your compliments. Let them flow. Watch other people bloom under the freshening power of your good words.

On the other hand, I have to say it again, I believe in honesty. Speak your truth. If someone is upsetting you, tell them. If someone does something objectionable (wrote a bad book), it's all right to say so. That's not to say it's all right to attack the person (author), but it's more than fair to critique and dissect their actions (work). Don't let someone get away with bad behaviour or treating you ill - speak up and let them know how their actions affect you.

But, one of the things we don't realize is that if we make a conscious effort to speak a compliment whenever we feel one, it gives our criticisms so much more power. The recipient knows you're not saying something bad because you dislike them - they trust your opinion, they already know all the many, many ways that you like and appreciate them - and the criticisms will be taken in the manner intended. As a means of improving, not as a route to personal destruction.

So, say something nice whenever you can. You never know when you'll need that pool of good-will to skewer someone in.

written by Jane Doe [et al]

I finished another book the other day. Shocking, I know.

It was a pretty decent story, the heroine was well developed and though I had a few issues with some other ways the book was put together I was willing to stick with the story until the end. At the front of the book was a long, long list of Acknowledgments.

The reason I mention that the heroine was well developed is because I don't know if the author knew that she'd done a good job on the woman. I was moving right along with the story, it all felt perfectly authentic and then, bam! Every couple of chapters, the heroine would do or say something that simply didn't fit her.

She was billed to us as a particular type person - bit of a cold fish, loved her family, unlucky in love and very business oriented. The author built her character around these markers. Then, I'm pretty sure, someone in her writing group, or in the editing booth or even her kid, read her manuscript and said, "OMG, it would have been so funny and cool if your heroine did this instead!" And the author, full of that evil self-doubt that plagues the masses said, gratefully, "You're right! I'm going to add that in. Thank you SO MUCH."

The rationale behind these pebbles in my pudding was never explained. MarySue suddenly becomes a sarcastic wench for 3 lines, with a wicked glint in her eye and daring twist to her lips. Then, she's back to form. No explanation is given of where that came from or why. Or the balls-to-the-wall executive is suddenly stricken by a debilitating blush when she never even broke a sweat before. Then, the moment is over and she's back to winning and losing fortunes as if it never happened.

Listen up fellow authors, that self-doubt ain't doin' you any favours. And neither is your husband or critique partner or editor when they try to put their words in YOUR character's mouth. You know how I know it was written by committee? Because you're too good an author to be so inconsistent.

You are the one who dreamed up your hero and your heroine. No one else understands them as well as you do. No one else can mix their quirks into your character's heads, or pulls the strings to make them jump the same way you can. You're the one who knows their flaws, their weaknesses, what makes them giggle, that they LIKE being forced to do the Funky Chicken at family weddings by Aunt Edna.

We all know the people in our head make us a bit crazy. We all hate it when they don't talk to us, and we listen with rapt attention when someone else talks about our baby. The teacher can hand you back a book report with a big ol B+ stamped on the top and tell you your kid is doing well, but you're the only one who knows that if he had actually read the book he would have gotten an A.

No one can tell you what you already know about your own people. No One. You live with them. Trust your instincts. Defend them.

"Your eyes are as brilliant as the morning dew," he said,

yeah right.
What guy do you know who talks like that? C'mon - be honest.
Can't think of any? How about a guy who at least thinks like that.
No?
What about a man who looks at you as his heart aches with wanting to hold you close, just wrapping you in the warmth of his arms until you know that you deserve love. And when he's done takes you to bed for four hours - the first three of those being totally devoted to you and your needs. After that it's off to save some puppies and help a few old ladies across the street.

Gross.

Well, yeah, I read that book the other day. HE was Mary Sue. He had a wholesome life, the selfless job, was a more unselfish lover than a vibrator, wisely understood her friends and family with just some casual observation and literally saved lives at the end of the day. (Oh, and of course, his body was perfect enough to rival Michelangelo's David.)

He was beyond a chick with a dick, he was some kind of sick experimental fantasy gone wrong. Now, I can believe a guy thinking that a woman has gorgeous eyes, or great hair, or hell even "worthy of love" - but this author had literally turned on the purple prose inside his head. She tore the ass out of it. It was the sort of thing that you'd expect a naive '70s heroine to say, or a poetic Victorian who hasn't yet realized that she's the only one not thinking dirty thoughts.

You certainly wouldn't expect thoughts like that to be going through the head of a red-blooded, healthy, horny, modern American man. I'll give you, some men are more thoughtful than others, some men better lovers, there are even some men who actually do slow down and take the time to not just recognize, but acknowledge the wonderful woman they have in their lives ... but 24 / 7?
Seriously?
Dude.
Grow a pair.

You've heard authors say it before, you've heard readers beg for it, and I'm here to reiterate. FLAWS! Write in some damn flaws, people. If this man had been oddly compassionate with her, but impatient with his family or saved people by day and started fights in a pool hall by night, even if he was frickin' colorblind it would have made the book more interesting. Instead he was the antithesis of every complaint a woman has ever had about a man, any man - oh, except he wasn't filthy rich. But SHE was, so no worries there, dear reader.

It's a pity, because the heroine was kind of interesting. She had a moderately effed-up family, an interesting personal backstory and even a decent (if contrived) reason not to trust Mr Perfect when he dropped into her arms with glistening abs and teeth. Unfortunately, seeing as ol whathisname already came fully assembled, there was nothing there for her to fix.

A year from now, when the magic of her hoo-ha wears off and he raises his wet face from between her exhausted thighs, he's gonna stop and say, "Hold on, what am I getting out of this?" Then what's going to happen? Because it sure as heck isn't Happily Ever After.





Currently reading: Her Sexiest Surprise [DNF]
Still reading: Wolf Tales III
Going back to: Dreams From My Father
Just about to Start: Tempted

Call me Average

Call me behind-the-times, call me a stick-in-the-mud-paper-waster, but I just don't give a flying fig about the Kindle. Ditto for the Sony e-reader. I'm glad they're out there. I'm glad they're an option to folks, but I am sick to death of reading about them on every damn blog I visit.

I am a reader. I am a long-time reader. I am also an internet-savvy, computer-addicted, modern woman. You know what else I am? Poor. At least right now.

I suspect that I'm just like most of you. I don't have an extra $350 sitting in the bank waiting to be spent on a leisure device that will then require me to spend the same amount on books as I currently do. When I'm done with the book, I can't donate it to my local RWA or library, I can't sell it at a used book store, I can't loan it to a friend and I definitely can't throw it against a wall.

If I drop my $350 piece of machinery on a hard floor or in the tub, I can't pick up a replacement for a few bucks on www.half.com. From what I read, if I have a hardware or software failure somewhere along the line, I can't even get a replacement copy of something I never physically laid my hands on, because the companies who sell these books & devices don't have customer service to that level yet. Admittedly, a publisher wouldn't replace a lost / damaged copy of a paper book either, but chances of my having the sort of catastrophic failure of 200 paper books as I could have with a single device is unlikely.

All of this translates into the fact that the e-reader has a long way to go before it will be something that factors into my perfectly average life.

When I started this blog, it was partially a response to the myriad topics I see on other romance blogs out there. People talking about issues in writing. People talking about decisions in publishing. People talking about their reading experience. All of which fascinate me, are important to me and matter to the quality of the books I produce. I wanted to have a space to say my own thing without feeling like I'm hijacking someone else's space. So I'm using my own space to say that the advent of the Kindle and the Sony e-reader are NOT Romance topics.

The Kindle and the Sony e-reader are pieces of machinery that have nothing to do with the visceral experience of writing, reading, creating a plot, building a character, living up to readers expectations, awesomely bad sex scenes, or a romance novel so good that it moves you to your soul and makes you a devotee for life.

To the few people who read this, I beg of you, please, go back to talking about romances on your blogs. Take your technophile discussions to the altar itself. Engage with Sony and Amazon (and now Fictionwise) on their own soil and get back to the stuff that made you worth reading in the first place. ROMANCE.






Just finished: One Silent Night
Just finished: Violet Among the Roses
Just finished: Sugar Daddy
Just finished: P.S. I Love You
Just finished: Dream Warrior
Currently Reading: Wolf Tales III
Currently Reading: Slow Hands
Just about to start: A is for Alibi
Just about to start: Lover Awakened