This week has been a crazy one, crazier than usual; I had my friend from Portland, OR, in town (I refer to her as the Picky Vegetarian because, well, she is: the woman hates tofu, in addition to many other things), my mother-in-law returned home, and then I had another in a series of unpleasant dental appointments (’nuff said on that; just floss already, okay?). Not to mention I’m trying to write and was editing on a tight deadline for a friend whose agent is prepping to take her book out.

So I’m gonna skip around topics. First off, the picture above is of me and the aforementioned PV at this replica of Stonehenge a guy built as tribute to fallen WWI soldiers (he was mistakenly told that Stonehenge was a sacrificial site, so built the faux ‘henge as a reminder that “humanity is still being sacrificed to the god of war.”

It was very cool, and the accompanying museum–his mansion, with all his quirky treasures–was delightful. Plus the town has a winery, so you know I was happy.

Then, I had to howl at today’s post at Awful Library Books; after all, isn’t this what we write every day, only with less cartoony covers?

(What would you most want a boy to know about you, by the way?)

And last, I have been continuing to try to write every day–not always succeeding, but my good friend Kwana is threatening to kick my ass if I don’t. And I believe her (plus, she doesn’t live far away; Carolyn Jewel has threatened the same, but she’s in California. She has to wait until our annual face-time at the National Conference to follow through on her threat, whereas Kwana can just drive half an hour).

So thanks for bearing with me as I’m all over the place, but what else is new, and maybe share how some friend helped YOU out recently. Or what you want a boy to know about you, or what you really want to know about boys.

Thanks!

Megan

PS: LeBron, if you’re out there? New York is a lovely place. Just saying.

This week, RWA’s National Conference was moved from Nashville, TN to Orlando, FL. This was necessitated by the devastating flooding that hit Music City, USA; the hotel at which the conference was to be held is under at least six feet of water.

RWA moved with amazing speed, rebooking the conference for the same dates within two days in Orlando. Immediately, my close friend–and usually on-same-page-as-me-with-most-everything twin–Liz Maverick said we had to go to Disneyworld. To which I replied, “No effing way.” Only I didn’t say ‘effing.’

I have to admit: I hate Mickey Mouse. Despise him. Loathe him. I know it might be odd, in any other context but ours, to admit to hating a fictional character, a cartoon fictional character no less, but I know my fellow readers will understand.

Some fictional characters are so real you can have as potent emotions about them as you would people in your real life. For most of us, it’s the heroes and heroines we recall, but what about the people we hate? Aunt Reed in Jane Eyre, Obadiah Hakeswill in the Sharpe series, Iago in Othello, heck, Scar in The Lion King!–clever, smart, wicked people who almost get the upper hand in their dealings with the more heroic characters.

Mickey, to my disgust, has nothing delightfully villainous about him. I cannot stand his white gloves, his high voice and the fact that he is not funny. I wish he were devious, the way Daffy Duck is (I know one is Disney and one is Warner Bros.; bear with me). He’s not dumb, but he’s not smart, particularly. He’s left his girlfriend hanging for years, and he has no visible means of support. I just can’t stand him or his stupid little ears.

But, meanwhile, I will be happy to be in Orlando, and am always happy to talk about the Most Wickedest of Villains here; who do you nominate? Which villain, to your mind, is the most memorable?

You’ve heard the ‘smooth sailing’ metaphor, as in it’s either smooth sailing or it’s not, right?

In writing, it’s our goal to make the writing as choppy as possible. For someone like me, whose whole goal in life is to make things comfortable for those around her, this is a hard idea to wrap my head around. So, in my fiction (as in my life), my characters often accept what others hand to them, reacting instead of proacting (yeah, I made the word up. So what?)

But that is dull. And makes for not very likeable characters, unless you happen to like super-neurotic, premise-accepting people (and if you do, you are likely a friend of mine).

So my goal in writing right now is to make my characters as feisty and proacting as possible. For example, the hero in my current WIP is going to kiss the heroine to get her to stop asking questions, but instead of leaning into the kiss, as she really wants to do (he’s smokin’!), she’s going to haul off and slap him, because she knows he’s only kissing her to shut her up, not because he wants to kiss her.

It’s an eye-opener, thinking of things to put my characters through I would never want a friend to experience. But it’ll make for better fiction. And maybe help me get more proacting, too.

Megan

Many times the discussion of romance dealbreakers comes up; for some people, it’s sleeping with someone else while the romance is building (not a dealbreaker for me; I just call that ‘being an entitled man.’).

For most of us, and why we carry the stigma of romance as long as anyone remembers the phrase ‘bodice-ripper,’ it’s rape.

For me (in addition to the rape, obviously), it’s adultery. It’s funny, I haven’t really thought of it before–after all, I am a “Risky” Regency, and not usually conservative in my views. But the other night, my husband and I were watching a 1966 movie called Grand Prix starring James Garner, Eva Marie Saint and Yves Montand, among others. It was about the Formula 1 racing circuit, and my husband recalled loving it when young because of the racing footage.

We joined it midway, and there’s this romance going on between Garner and a woman who, it turns out, is married to another driver, a Scot who’s recovering from a race accident. Huh. Made me uncomfortable to see it all out there in the open, but whatever. Then Montand’s character is madly in love with Saint’s only, it turns out, he’s already married to another stunning blonde (man had a type, is all I’m saying).

“So,” I said, turning to my husband, “this movie is all about adultery.” I didn’t hate the film, but I didn’t like it that everyone seemed okay with the cheating. If that plot line had been in a romance story? Whoa, there would’ve been SUCH a kerfuffle.

‘Course, I’m a hypocrite, because one of my favorite series is Julia Spencer-Fleming‘s Clare Fergusson and Russ Van Alstyne series. But there the characters know, and suffer for, what they’re doing.

I guess the difference for me is knowing that the characters are aware of their actions, and are making choices, not just falling into things because it’s convenient. Another example is one of my all-time favorite books, Jane Eyre. Rochester, of course, knew full well what he was attempting to do–but his love for Jane made him choose to live with damnation. I kinda respected that when I first read it, and still admire Rochester for choosing love over propriety (some would say morality, and that is a valid word, also).

Okay, so not a dealbreaker precisely, but if the hero or heroine is somewhat insouciant about their cheating–no matter how valid the reason–I’m not gonna like them.

We’ve all discussed the usual dealbreakers; do you have any unusual ones?

Megan

Adele‘s “My Same”:

You said I’m stubborn and I never give in
I think you’re stubborn ‘cept you’re always softening
You say I’m selfish, I agree with you on that
I think you’re giving out in way too much in fact
I say we’ve only known each other a year
You say I’ve known you longer my dear
You like to be so close, I like to be alone
I like to sit on chairs and you prefer the floor
Walking with each other, think we’ll never match at all, but we do
But we do, but we do, but we do

I thought I knew myself, somehow you know me more
I’ve never known this, never before
You’re the first to make up whenever we argue
I don’t know who I’d be if I didn’t know you
You’re so provocative, I’m so conservative
You’re so adventurous, I’m so very cautious, combining
You think we would and we do, but we do, but we do, but we do

Adele says it better than I, but the point of this song, and therefore this post, is that some couples work, even though it seems like they shouldn’t, and some don’t, even though it seems like they should.

Some of the best books, in my opinion, are where the author is able to convince you–and her characters–that even though there are distinct differences in personality, a true HEA is, indeed, possible. And watching the hero and heroine mash out their conflict during the course of the book is the most fun of all.

Take, for example, almost any of Loretta Chase‘s books: In Lord of Scoundrels, for example, it seems as though Dain and Jessica are the least likely pair EVER to fall in love. But she figures out that there’s depth behind the big lummox, and he realizes he is, indeed, worthy of such a lovely creature as Jessica (and that she likes him), and their HEA is totally and completely believable.

Or, for a more extreme example, Anne Stuart‘s books; often, the hero or the heroine’s stated goal at the outset of the book is to kill the other. You can’t find an action further away from falling in love than that. But, eventually, they put aside their initial goal because they have gotten to know each other and usually been forced to work together for some greater good (or bad).

I thought of this because (and Diane, you might want to look away), just based on the ads, I don’t at all buy the idea of Gerard Butler and Jennifer Aniston as a couple in The Bounty Hunter. And that kind of believability happens in the gut: There’s no way to figure out what combination of folks will make us believe in the HEA, worse luck for Hollywood.

In plotting and writing my books, I have to cast actors in the roles, or I don’t believe what I’m writing. So I’ve thought a lot about combinations that work, despite themselves–for example, even though they seem very comfortable together, I don’t think Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn were a particularly sizzling pair. That is opposed to Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, who sizzled all over the place, despite the Hays Code (restrictions on film content, following such films as Barbara Stanwyck‘s Baby Face and Mae West‘s I’m No Angel).

In modern film, one of the sexiest pairings is Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt in Mr. And Mrs. Smith. Whoa. George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez in Out Of Sight? Also totally buy it, and they obviously never had an off-screen romance. Pride & Prejudice convinced me as to the pairings of Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle and Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen. Even Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier were believable in the much maligned 1940 version.

Who are your favorite ‘shouldn’t work but they do’ couples, either in books or film? What pairing absolutely did not work for you?

Megan