This week, I sent a proposal for a Regency-set historical to my agent. This book is about an opium-addicted Marquess who meets the illegitimate daughter of a vicar. They get married in a Marriage of Convenience, and spend a bunch of time traveling from the Scottish border to London.

So I titled it

Road To Passion* (although its high-concept log-line is Leaving Las Vegas meets Jane Eyre).

So now what? Keep writing, yes, but wait for feedback from my agent, too. Tom Petty had it right in this song “The Waiting” when he said “The waiting/Is the hardest part.” I have to wait to hear what she thinks, then revise, then send back, then hear what she thinks again, and then, and only then, hear what editors think.

It’s a lot of waiting.

So meanwhile, I’ll start writing another proposal, this one a contemporary about a Brooklyn mom who goes on the road with a revival of an ’80s new wave group (I know. Musicians in romances are forbidden. What can I say?).

And then another proposal. And another. Because, after all, what else am I going to do? Go get a real job or something?!?

Thanks for waiting with me! What do you do to pass the time?

Megan
www.meganframpton.com
*The cool drawing is an ancient Chinese picture titled “Road Of Passion.” Love Google!

Oh, no, it’s Friday morning, and I’ve already had two cups of coffee, and I’m dressed and everything, and the house is quiet, since the son is at school and the spouse is at work, and things should be percolating (not just the coffee) in my brain because it’s the only time I have to be creative, not counting the times I have to make up Adventure Stories For Pokemon and explain How I Managed to Make Lasagna Without Lasagna Noodles or just WHY I have so many books.

And I got nothing. I am still toiling away on my three chapters and synopsis, they’re both almost done, but I am fried. Not good-fried, like a french fry or a deep-fried Milky Way bar (yes, a local restaurant offers those. No, I have never been so confident or depressed to order one). Bad-fried, like ‘where is my head?’ fried.

So now what? Hm. Of course I’ve got some writing triggers, like sitting at the computer and turning OFF the overhead light and turning ON the little desk lamp so there’s only a small circular glow of light on the keyboard. And lighting a candle, somehow that makes me be able to pretend I’m a Real Writer, so I Really Write when I smell the candle.

But still. It’s the end of the long week, I’m fried, and really, I got nothing.

When I get really desperate (like, um, now), I look at pictures of Clive Owen, and not just because I think he’s totally foxy. See, he’s what my hero Alisdair looks like in the chapters I’m writing. And the heroine looks like Maggie Gyllenhaal (who, coincidentally, just moved into my Brooklyn neighborhood).

And then I imagine them distrusting each other and then growing to love each other. You know–they meet, they have adventures, they fall in love and live happily ever after.

Hey, it’s not so hard after all! Thanks for the help!

Megan
www.meganframpton.com

This week, the Risky Regencies are giving away two copies of the new 10th Anniversary release of the BBC/A&E Pride and Prejudice, which stars Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. This limited edition includes both the DVDs of the award-winning miniseries and the illustrated companion book. To learn more about this very special edition, visit the A&E Online Store here.

To enter, all you have to do is put a comment on any of our Risky Regencies posts from this week. Full rules are here.

And now–

Welcome to Friday’s Edition of Who Wants To Be A Regency Heroine!

One of the best things about Jane Austen‘s characters is that they behave like real people do–they’re insecure, and stubborn, and willful, and shy, and flirtatious, and easily persuaded, and controlling.

And that’s just the heroines.

So today I’d like to ask a two-part question:

Which Jane Austen heroine are you most like in real life?

and

Which Jane Austen heroine would you most like to be?

For me, the answer is simple: I am most like Anne Elliot of Persuason, and I would most like to be Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice. I’m easily persuaded, shy, able to deal with a crisis quietly and efficiently and, let’s face it, I’m not so young. I’d like to be witty, smart-mouthed, stubborn, fierce in defending my beliefs, and 18 again.

But perhaps you’d like Emma‘s assuredness? Maybe, you lucky thing, you already have that? Maybe you’ve got Marianne Dashwood‘s impulsiveness? Maybe you wish you had more of her sister Elinor‘s reserve? Or vice versa?

Bonus points if you want to mention which Jane Austen portrayal you’d like to look like: Keira, Gwyneth, Jennifer, Amanda (Root, Persuasion), Greer, Emma (Thompson, Sense & Sensibility), Kate (Winslet, Sense & Sensibility). Or some other portrayal my Friday morning brain is not recalling (I’d choose Kate Winslet, btw, but honestly I’d be happy to look like any of them.)

Good luck, and come back on Sunday evening to see who’s won these fabulous prizes!

Megan
www.meganframpton.com

There are guilty pleasures, and then there are pleasures that are just wrong.

One of my guilty pleasures is watching historical movies, no matter the quality. A friend from high school and I (visitors to my blog will know her as the Super-Smart Lawyer) settle down on my couch after my son is asleep, crack open a bottle of wine, and indulge. We’ve seen two versions of Wuthering Heights (Olivier and Dalton), Clive Owen in Return of the Native, Century and King Arthur, Jane Eyre (just the Dalton version so far), and of course some others I can’t recall–we’ve been doing this for awhile now.

My recent Sean Bean obsession, fueled by my viewing of the Sharpe series, has now led me to this: Scarlett. It is the 1994 mini-series based on Alexandra Ripley‘s sequel to Margaret Mitchell‘s Gone With The Wind. He plays a minor character in it, and to my surprise, I discovered it starred another historical favorite, Timothy Dalton.

But when I got it home from the library, I felt a little queasy. It’s six hours long! It’s a TV mini-series! Based on the sequel to a much-beloved book! If I do watch it, it will be alone, so I can hide my shame. My friend does not deserve six hours of cheesy TV melodrama.

Has anyone seen it? Can recommend it? Or not? And what is your guiltiest pleasure movie?

Megan
www.meganframpton.com

I am currently in the midst of writing a proposal to send to my agent. A proposal, for those of you not aware (as I was not until Carolyn Jewel told me this past summer. And I think I’m so smart.), is the first three chapters and synopsis for a proposed book.

In other words, I don’t have to actually WRITE the entire book in order to get it sold. How cool is that?!?

Of course it means I have to write the synopsis, which is agony for another day.

But meanwhile, I am actually doing RESEARCH, another first for me, as those of you who read A Singular Lady know (there’s definitely some wrong stuff in there). My hero this time around is an opium addict, although he’ll start to kick by the end of Chapter Three, or else it wouldn’t be much of a romance–kinda more like Hunter S. Thompson goes to ton.

So I’ve gotten quite a few books out of the library, so many I hope no-one’s monitoring me, or I’d definitely be tagged as suspicious. The most useful one thus far is In The Arms of Morpheus: The Tragic History of Laudanum, Morphine, and Patent Medicines by Barbara Hodgson. I just got Opium: A History by Martin Booth, which Jo Beverley cites in the author’s note of her latest release, To Rescue A Rogue, which also features an opium addict (and here I thought I was being so innovative! But my hero is scads different from hers, so hopefully it won’t be walking over the same romantic ground). Of course I have Thomas De Quincey‘s Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, but his writing is so hyperbolic it’s not so informative. Samuel Taylor Coleridge‘s poem “Kubla Khan” was supposedly written under the influence, as was Christina Rossetti‘s Goblin Market, which is gorgeously illustrated by her brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

Addiction to laudanum was not disgraceful, especially for the upper class. The Prince Regent was addicted, and several other famous personages of the time used laudanum frequently. Laudanum was cheap, too, so poor people could obtain it easily. The most heinous thing about its use at this time is that opium was an ingredient in several children’s elixirs, guaranteed to soothe the fretful child. There were many deaths attributed to over-medicating.

Opium affects the brain in powerful, immediate ways, so it is very easy to get addicted quickly, and very hard to stop taking it. I am reading Jo Beverley’s book now, and she does a fantastic job of explaining how hard it is to get off it: Imagine wanting the best chocolate chip cookie ever, and you haven’t eaten all day, and you have to deny yourself the pleasure of eating it. And then magnify that by 1,000 times. That’s what it seems to be like to be addicted to opium.

My wonder is that more people weren’t addicted back then, given its availability and lack of social stigma.

And my questions are: Would you find an addicted hero sympathetic? What about an addicted heroine (mine isn’t)? Have you found anything out about the Regency period (such as what I discovered about the children’s elixirs) that startled you?

Megan
www.meganframpton.com