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Author Archives: megan

Sandy Books

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The past two weeks, I’ve been at the Jersey Shore*, observing egregious fashion choices (short shorts are NOT for everybody), eating way too much ice cream, and of course reading books.

I’ve devoured at least five thus far, with a sixth about to be finished, if I have my way.

During the summer, I don’t get a lot of time to do my own writing (my Son is in Camp Mommy, so I am on call most days), so I make up for that by reading a ton.

My favorite thing to do is to rotate genres: First romance, then action, then sci-fi, then historical fiction, then back to romance, etc. So this summer I have read Barbara Hambly‘s fourth book in the Benjamin January series, Die Upon A Kiss, Tara Janzen‘s Crazy Kisses, MaryJanice Davidson‘s Drop Dead, Gorgeous, Liz Carlyle‘s Never Lie To A Lady, and Lee Child‘s Tripwire.

I’ve read all of these authors before; summer beach reads are not for experimenting, because if you hate the book, you’re stuck in the sand with it.

I don’t do any research reading during the summer because I get too frustrated at not being able to write; instead, I try to figure out what it is I like about each author I read. Hambly I love for her language and ability to make any setting–in this case, 1830s New Orleans–come alive. Her hero, Benjamin January, is a complex character who you really come to know, and who grows throughout the course of the series. Tara Janzen’s Crazy series are fast-paced, delicious fun, great for her ability to get into a man’s head. Lee Child is just plain brilliant. Liz Carlyle’s writing is lush and gorgeous, and this hero is just about perfect for me–nothing gets to my heart like a tortured alpha male. And MaryJanice Davidson’s voice is so fantastic I don’t care her plots are as thin as some of the bathing suits I’ve seen on the beach this week.

Next week, we go back to reality: Brooklyn, school, writing, washing my own dishes, the possibility of sweatshirts. But right now I’m reaching for another book in the huge pile and savoring the last few days of summer.

Megan
*on dial-up, so no pictures.

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Personality Crisis

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“. . . he understood that the makers of sublime art were not necessarily sublime themselves. And it was not necessary that they be, he told himself.”

Benjamin January, Die Upon A Kiss, by Barbara Hambly

I’m on vacation at the Jersey Shore–and on dial-up, so excuse the lack of pictures–and read a book by an author whose online persona is unpleasant, but her books are good. I can, in the words of Henry Rollins and Black Flag, Rise Above. Which got me to thinking–how far is it to go for an unlikeable person to write a pleasant personality?

I mean, stories abound of how rotten George Bernard Shaw, Mark Twain, Evelyn Waugh, A.A. Milne (poor Christopher Robin!) all were; we know Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Dorothy Parker weren’t exactly the nicest folks.

I, of course, am extremely nice–to a fault, if I do say so myself (although I have a biting wit if your clothing is inappropriate, Ms. Mutton)–and I am not certain I could write a very mean person. I do know I am writing an Alpha Hero whose first instincts are to do everything exactly the opposite of the way I would do them, which is how I am figuring out what he is to do.

When questioned, every author will say ‘it’s fiction!,’ which of course is especially important when you’re James Ellroy or Tess Gerritsen. But if you know the author is not a nice person, does that affect your reading of his or her work? How about if they’re too nice?

Me, I prefer keeping a Kantian distance from my authors; I don’t want to know if they had a drinking problem, or hated their mother, or were mean to their siblings. I want to feel their art regardless of their personal lives, react and respond to the work purely as it stands. How about you? Are there authors you cannot read because you know they were horrendous people?

Megan

PS: I have to say I still love watching Charlton Heston and his Chest in Omega Man, despite what I know about his politics, which are the polar opposite of mine. Does that make me shallow, or open-minded?

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Watching Clarissa

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I will warn everyone in advance: I do not know where I am going with this post.

And then I will say: Cara, avert your eyes. I’m talking Richardson.

Awhile ago, I got a copy of the BBC production of Clarissa, starring Sean Bean and Saskia Wickham.

When I was a teenager, I read and re-read Samuel Richardson‘s Clarissa; it is a tortured, compelling story of an honorable woman stuck between a rock (her family’s insistence she marry an awful man) and a hard place (Lovelace, a rake who falls violently in love with her). Honestly, I love this story. Each time I read it, I hoped Lovelace would reform earlier, or Clarissa’s family would relent, and each time I cried at the end.

I started watching the other day (my reward while ironing a random dozen of my husband’s shirts), and the televised version puts in an uncomfortable plot point: Clarissa’s sister and brother are dabbling in incest.

I was miffed that they would choose to make that a plot point because the book makes it clear why her siblings are being so terrible to her, but then I thought again that it might’ve happened more often back then.

Think about it: After a certain age, the sons were sent off to school while the daughters remained safely at home. They were separated so they didn’t have that sibling contempt (as in ‘familiarity breeds . . . ‘), but when they were together, they lived in the same house, so they had access to people of the opposite sex. And being teenagers, they probably were interested in sexual experimentation, and found the easiest solution: Their siblings.

We’ve all read with horror–and some salacious interest–of Byron’s suspected affair with his half-sister, Augusta Leigh. They were raised separately, and began keeping company again when they were adults.

But back to Clarissa. One thing that made the book so compelling for me is that although Clarissa is a virtuous girl, she is indeed intrigued by Lovelace; certainly, he is far more appealing than the suitor her family has chosen, whom Lovelace warns her will be the cause of her early death. And who wouldn’t be fascinated by him? He has a shocking reputation as a rake, he is handsome, charming, and persuasive (that he is played by Sean Bean in the miniseries certainly does no damage in my eyes, either).

But since she is so pure of heart, and of motive, she decides against Lovelace, but circumstances ultimately force her to him. Which, in turn, forces her to her eventual demise.

If Clarissa were a romance novel, she would have reformed her rake early enough to achieve her happy ending. But Richardson wasn’t writing romance, he was writing virtue, so while Lovelace and Clarissa’s siblings get what they deserve, Clarissa herself does not.

I don’t think I would actually like Clarissa if I met her, whereas I would definitely have a great time with Jane Eyre or Elizabeth Bennet.

Let’s see: I’ve brought up incest, sexual taboos, great (or not) works of literature, non-romance novels, unhappy endings, just rewards, and which heroine you’d get along with. Pick any or all and discuss, if you like. Thanks for following along with my train of thought, which has gotten very, very derailed.

Megan
To sign up for our newsletter, send an email to riskies@yahoo.com.

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Becoming Jane–A Rant

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I asked my friend, author, and Pemberley co-founder Myretta Robens what she thought of the movie Becoming Jane and she sent me the following rant (see how I cleverly avoided having to think of fresh writing myself?). But before she starts, let me say we both recognize the importance of seeing something before judging it. She does admit, however, she went in with more of a closed mind than she would’ve liked.

Myretta Speaks:
Wrong, wrong, wrong! Becoming Jane is just wrong. Okay, I realize that for the regular movie-goer, this is probably a nicely filmed, affecting story. But for someone who is deeply and passionately interested in Jane Austen, it’s just wrong! And here’s why:

Location – Ireland is NOT England and the parts used for this film didn’t look at all like the bits of England they purported to be. And…Godmersham by the Sea? What the heck was that? Although Godmersham (one of the homes of Jane’s brother, Edward Austen Knight) is in Kent, and Kent has some coast, Godmersham is, most emphatically, not near it.

Anachronism – Steel nibbed pens. That’s all I’m saying.

Historical inaccuracies – This is a big one. Almost none of this story ever happened. Yes, Jane Austen met and flirted with Tom Lefroy for a couple of weeks in 1795-6. There is nothing to indicate that she ever did most of the other things depicted in the movie. And that last scene was totally impossible. I could go on and on about these inaccuracies in serious detail, but you probably don’t want to hear it.

The gravest problem of all is the implication on which the film is based: That Jane Austen was a frustrated and mediocre writer until a man entered her life, introduced her to Tom Jones and taught her love. And the idea that some of her most sparkling prose was cribbed from other
people’s ideas. The premises of this film denigrate the genius and originality of Jane Austen. I am outraged on her behalf and on behalf of other women writers who are fully capable of telling their own stories.

End of Rant; Beginning of Q&A Period:

Thanks, Myretta! Have you seen the movie? What did you think? And what do you think in general of historical fictionalized accounts of something that may or may not have happened?

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Congratulations!

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It’s been an exciting week here at the Riskies: Both Amanda and Janet have new books out, and the other 2/3rds of us are very proud.

It’s always gratifying when a friend achieves an important accomplishment: sometimes I think half the purpose of belonging to writers’ groups is to be able to receive the accolades (and ‘cyber chocolate,’ although Literal Me took the longest time to figure out what that was. I never said I was smart. Oh, wait; yes, I did.) when something cool happens. I love being able to share someone else’s special moment.

I think camaraderie, even–and perhaps even more so–in the cyber age, is crucial for anyone engaged in a somewhat solitary pursuit, whether it’s writing, telecommuting, knitting (hi, KJ!), or being a stay-at-home parent (hi, Me!)

Do you belong to any groups where communal support is an essential element? How do you guys celebrate? If you don’t, where do you find your own private cheerleaders?

So I raise my faux-cyber glass of champagne to my fellow Riskies in tribute: Congratulations, ladies! And may you be able to return the toast to the rest of us very soon!

To receive any and all exciting news, sign up for the Riskies Newsletter at riskies@yahoo.com, subject “Newsletter.”

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