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So mean-looking! So sexy!

Yay Saturday! It’s been a tough week (as all weeks are…), and today I will be writing more of The Hero’s Return, the second of my 2013 Loveswept titles (No, I will NEVER get tired of mentioning that. Sorry in advance).

My hero and heroine are now in a small town, about to partake in the town’s annual Frolic, which celebrates something or another. Of course, things being what they are, they’ll discover some oddness to the Frolic, something that binds them in unfamiliarity together while the townspeople know exactly what is going on. I’m not sure what that thing will be yet, just something to bring them closer together (even as other things strive to keep them apart). Any thoughts on a weird tradition the Frolic could have? Your suggestions welcome!

Outside of that writing news, I got a website tweak, and it’s all pretty, even if the picture of me is ghastly. I just couldn’t stand to have the five year-old pic up there any longer, I felt it was disingenuous. I will be blogging more regularly, because now I like to visit my own site again. Yay!

Hope everyone is having a great day!

Megan

Shoot. Apologies to my fellow Riskies and our readers for bailing out last weekend on my post.
See, there was this Memorial Day weekend, and things to do, and words to write, and I’ve been feeling about as interesting as a rock. A BORING rock, so I haven’t come up with any kinds of fascinating blog topics.

But back to the writing of words–I am about halfway done with writing the first draft of The Hero’s Return, and I’m having a whole lotta fun. The thing is, though, I have no idea if it hangs together at all as a book rather than close to 40K worth of words. I hope to gain perspective, but it’s like looking too close at yourself in the mirror: You see your pores, and your blotches, and how much your eyebrows need plucking (yes, I know that’s me. Maybe it’s you, too?), but you don’t see your whole FACE.

Here’s a bit of what I’ve written:

She saw him swallow, and open his mouth, but he said nothing. She felt her insides flood with warmth as his eyes grew predatory again, not in a hunter kind of way, but in a ‘I am about to kiss you again’ type of way.

And she wanted it. At this moment, with this man, she wanted this kiss.

Perhaps later she would regret it—she knew she would, in fact—but for right now, it was all that mattered.

Next up is one of the black moments, not the ultimate black moments, but a middling black moment. Maybe it’s slate-gray? Anyway. I hope to top 40K words over the weekend, and then onto the house party section (right now the hero and heroine are traveling alone together. Yes, I know it’s not something the heroine would do; yes, I do make it somewhat justifiable). Hope everyone is having a lovely weekend! And that your face is GORGEOUS close up.

Megan

Posted in Risky Book Talk, Writing | Tagged | 1 Reply


There’s a new film coming out called Tristam Shandy: A Cock And Bull Story, which “attempts to shoot the adaptation of Laurence Sterne‘s essentially unfilmable novel, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman.” Tristam Shandy, if you’ve never read it, is a brilliant, frustrating, hysterical deconstructed novel written in the eighteenth century. It is a totally modern novel, despite being written almost 300 years ago, and Sterne’s ability to play with language and go off on tangents is comparable to twentieth-century masters such as Joyce and Pynchon.

But I’m not hear to blab about the Modern Novel, although at a more erudite time, I probably would be. As I was thinking about the Tristam Shandy movie, and how funny–and oddly true to the book’s spirit–it sounded, I was thinking about other books I read that were “classic” works of literature, and how the movies (with the clear exception of Jane Austen) just don’t evoke the same feel. And let me say there’s nothing I like more than a good–or bad–historical movie. Now, here’s where you can start wracking your brain to find more exceptions on the good side of the equation (Oh, the 1973 Three Musketeers springs to mind, actually–but Dumas was a better storyteller than a writer). Thackeray‘s Vanity Fair toned down the single-minded ruthlessness of Becky Sharpe; Thackeray’s Barry Lyndon was beautiful, but s-l-o-o-w. Henry Fielding‘s Tom Jones did a pretty good job, but lost some of the nuanced jibes that made the book’s narrative so biting (and Fielding was a darn good storyteller, too).
There have been a few versions of Wuthering Heights, all of which spotlight the oftentimes ridiculous melodrama of Emily Bronte’s prose, but miss the poignant heartbreak and longing of your first crush/obsession. Jonathan Swift‘s Gulliver’s Travels totally missed the scathing satire. There’s also Jane Eyre, A Christmas Carol, the many incarnations of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Laclos’ Dangerous Liaisons (and its wimpy younger brother, Valmont)

(Caveat: Of course there are the A&E/BBC/Other Initialed creations, but they have more than two or three hours to get the job done, so they can stick to the book better.)

Of books that haven’t yet been made into films, I’d suggest Francois RabelaisGargantua And Pantagruel, a brilliant, bawdy, grotesque, sophmoric, clever book. I also think it’d be fun to read some of those ‘horrid novels’ Regency heroines (and sometimes heroes) are always reading (and sometimes writing) and see if any of those would make fun films.

So here’s where the class participation comes in: What movies have done a good job at bringing a classic novel to life? And what classic books would you like to see made into movies that haven’t been already?

Thanks for recommending some more for my film queue,

Megan
www.meganframpton.com

In between work, home, and the constant urge to nap lies the writing. And, of course, the reading.

I seldom reread, but now that I have an ereader, I find myself rereading way more often than before–previously, if I reread that meant there was another book I wasn’t reading for the first time. With an ereader, all of those books are still right there, which means that if I so choose, I can switch out to another book with a literal press of a button.

So this week I reread one of my favorites, Amanda Quick’s Deception. When I returned to reading romance, it was Quick whom I first glommed (before I even knew what glomming was!). Deception was my favorite of her single-title books, telling the story of Jared, the very organized, slightly dull businessman who looked like a pirate (one eye, velvet eye patch, long hair, refusal to wear cravats), and Olympia, the self-proclaimed “woman of the world” who’d nonetheless never left her small village.

The prose veers on the purple–“womanly portal” is used more than once, and there are some parts I, admittedly, skipped. But the passion between them is delightful, and the book–and the others I’ve been reading–help inspire me to write my own romance when inspiration flags. Because, you know, it can be difficult to get inspired for all kinds of romantic frolics when the dishes have to get done.

Many authors can’t read within their own genre when they’re writing; I find the opposite, that I crave reading historicals when writing them, and definitely want to read as much romance as possible in general. There is only one author whom I cannot read while writing myself, and that is Carla Kelly, whose voice is so strong it infects mine, and I find myself writing a lot like her, which is not me.

If you’re an author, can you read within your genre when writing? What old favorites do you like to go back and dive into again? Are there authors that just haven’t stood up to the test of time?

Megan

 

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged | 6 Replies


Risky Regencies Blog Party! Comment on this post to get the chance to win a copy of Megan Frampton’s A Singular Lady. And don’t forget to enter the Treasure Hunt, too!

It’s a question that comes up over and over again on romance reader message boards, at booksignings, anywhere romance readers are likely to get into discussion: If you could choose just one book for a non-romance reader to read, which one would it be?

So I pose the question to you, only more specifically: If you could pick just one Regency romance to give to an interested, non-romance reading friend, which one would it be? And why?

Would it be Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen? Do you think Austen is ‘cheating’ since it’s a literary classic? Or would you dig out The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer from your keeper pile?
Perhaps you’d press a copy of Flowers From The Storm by Laura Kinsale into her hands (preferably the new un-Fabio edition). Or maybe you’d withdraw a Carla Kelly from the rare book vault, maybe Reforming Lord Ragsdale (my favorite) or Mrs. Drew Plays Her Hand, but only if your friend handed over some stocks or the deed to her house to make sure she’d return them.

Since I’m writing this, and don’t have to choose just one, I’d pick either Mary Balogh’s The Notorious Rake or Loretta Chase’s Lord of Scoundrels. Both are filled with passion, incredible, compelling characters, a believable, deep romance and page-turning drama.

So . . . what’s your pick? And why? And have you ever done it, and with what success?

Thanks for playing!

Megan
www.meganframpton.com

P.S. Don’t forget you can still comment on any of the previous posts this week to win books by other Risky Regencies. Also, be sure to enter the Treasure Hunt for the Grand Prize!