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Category: Reading

Posts in which we talk about reading habits and preferences

Kate Ross

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I was originally going to cover the subject of “What else do you read?” but decided instead to talk about Kate Ross, whom I would have talked about anyway. She’s a writer who died in her early 30s, having only written four books; and she was the sort of writer you wanted to have around for years. She’s not a romance writer, but her books are set in the mid-1820s and feature a dandy and detective called Julian Kestrel (great name!).
I find with a lot of historical mystery series I find myself muttering, “Oh, for God’s sake, check the fingerprints,” before realizing the technology was decades, or centuries ahead. Or frankly, they’re just silly (like the impeccably researched medieval series, I mention no names, that had chipmunks frolicking in the grounds of a medieval abbey). But Kate Ross and Kestrel are just, well, in a word, fabulous. He’s not an aristocrat, but a self-made man who lives on his wits and gambler’s instincts. He reminds me a little of Lord Peter Wimsey set a century earlier–cultured, witty, super-intelligent, and with a frivolous, flippant demeanor that hides a deeply serious and private personality. He moves easily between the fashionable world and its dark side, both beautifully evoked by Ross.
Three of the books are set in England. The fourth, and her most ambitious–I suspect Ross knew time was running out, and stretched herself–is set in Italy, has an extremely and convoluted operatic plot, and finally gives us the truth about Kestrel’s origins.
Ross’ secondary characters are great, too. There’s his manservant, Dipper (slang term for a pickpocket, which was his former profession), and Sally, a whore and thief and his sometime accomplice and lover. Kestrel resists Sally for a time, and then capitulates. This wonderful bit of writing describes his state of mind before they make love for the first time:
So it was over–the struggle and suspense between them. But it was no ending as he had expected, or resolved. Because in that moment his perspective shifted. He had often tried to fathom what she meant to him; he had never once asked himself what he meant to her. Looking into her upturned face, he saw her for the first time, not as a seductress, but as offering him the only thing in the world she had to give.
All four of the novels–Cut To The Quick; A Broken Vessel; Whom The Gods Love; and The Devil In Music–are all still in print. Check them out.
Janet

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Mothers!

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Yesterday I wrote a short scene between the heroine of my very new mess-in-progress and her mother. The heroine’s father had to be dead, for plot purposes, but I thought perhaps the mother might prove an interesting character. Well, I tried her one way and another—sympathetic, controlling, whiny, funny—and nothing clicked. So I decided she was just better off dead, too. I may revive her at some point, but only if she has something entertaining to contribute to the story!

I think there’s a reason why heroines of romances often don’t have mothers, or at least not ones who are present for most of the story. The mother/daughter relationship is very complex and can take over from the romance. A mother’s good counsel might keep a heroine from making her own mistakes and learning from them. And depending on the story, having a mom around might destroy the mood.

And yet, is creating orphaned characters an easy (and cheap) way to buy a reader’s sympathy? A problematic mother (like Mrs. Bennett in Pride & Prejudice) can escalate conflict, but wouldn’t it be refreshing to see more positive mother figures in romance fiction?

Most books I recall that included such a mother also featured a hero with bigger problems than the heroine’s, where it made sense that a mother’s support would help her deal with him. Some examples: Julia Ross’s MY DARK PRINCE and Jo Beverley’s DEVILISH.

Can anyone else think of examples of interesting fictional mothers, good, bad and ugly?

Elena
www.elenagreene.com/

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Your first time

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Like almost every other writer/reader, I have a TBR pile. No, pile is a vast misnomer–it’s s structure, a mountain. For a long time, I had these books stacked in my hallway, blocking the coat closet and waiting to brain unwary passers-by. Until one day, when the volumes went almost to the ceiling, my cat tried to climb up the pyramid and started an avalanche. Books were scattered far and wide, and I knew I had to make a change. Get organized. So, I bought a slew of clear plastic tubs at Target and started packing the volumes away to store them in the garage (after I moved the car out, of course). To a non-reader this sounds like a quick and easy job, but we here at Risky Regencies surely know better. This job took days, weeks, because I ended up sitting on the floor re-reading old favorites, starting new books I’ve been meaning to get to, just basically wasting time and having fun.

I sorted these books into several stacks–books I will read soon, books I will read some day (when I’m 80?), and books to give away (I think there were about 3 of these). Then I found it. A battered, taped-up copy of the Very First Regency I ever read–Marian Chesney’s AT THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN PINEAPPLE. And nostalgia set in.

A little backstory. Unlike lucky Megan, my parents were never great readers. But my grandmother was, and she was always taking me to the library and giving me books as presents. Some of them I loved, like the Little House on the Prairie and Anne of Green Gables series (for their romantic elements, and their plucky, wanna-be writer heroines). Some I loathed (like the egregious, treackle-beset POLLYANNA and ELSIE DINSMORE). But I devoured them all.

My grandparents lived on a sort-of farm, and every summer we visited them for several weeks. This particular summer, when I was 8 or 9, someone gave my grandmother a couple of big boxes full of romance novels, and I ended up sitting in the closet (where the boxes were stored) and reading the whole time. At first it was just a fun way to avoid my cousins, who only ever wanted to play Star Wars and brooked no deviation from the script. Boring. Soon, though, I was totally hooked, living in a world of country estates, Almack’s, handsome dukes, and high-perch phaetons. I could not even be lured away by my grandmother’s German chocolate cake.

These boxes were filled with mostly Cartlands, with a couple of Heyers, and some old Fawcett and Harlequin Regencies. I was somewhat familiar with the period, having seen the Garvie-Rintoul P&P, and I loved the clothes, the manners, the witty atmosphere. I was so excited when I pulled a book out of the box–AT THE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN PINEAPPLE–and saw the words “Regency Romance” at the top. I devoured it on the spot, and then dug out every single volume that also declared itself a “Regency.” The monster was unleashed.

I don’t remember a huge amount about that particular book. It was maybe set in Bath, and the heroine ran a Gunter’s-style shop. But it sucked me into a fabulous, fascinating new world I couldn’t get enough of. I still can’t.

So, I’m curious. What are the books that first drew YOU into the Regency? What did you like about them, what kept drawing you back? What was your first time like?

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Highest Concept

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I hate for this to be all about me, but . . .

let’s talk about me.

My book, A Singular Lady, comes out in stores in less than two weeks. Ten days, to be exact, but who’s counting? My editor sent me one copy of it, which is now crinkled, stained, and worn because I’ve been hauling it around to show off if anyone asks what I do besides stay at home with my son.

I’ve read a few bits of it, too, when I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me what I do besides stay at home with my son (um, did I say that? I meant waiting to save a puppy or make chocolate from scratch. That’s what I meant). It feels as if another person wrote it. I certainly don’t remember tapping out some of those words on the keyboard.

I do remember, however, when I knew I would finish writing it. I was at a music industry conference talking with a Very Important Music Journalist and I mentioned what I was doing in my theoretical spare time. I told her the bare concept–my heroine writes a column detailing her husband quest–and she replied, “Oh, Sex And The City in the Regency.”

A ha! I thought. That made it all so much clearer.

And thus was I introduced to the high concept, a buzzword that’s since been cutting a swath through writers’ conferences. The High Concept is a sentence, sometimes only a sentence fragment, that describes the book (or movie, or TV show) in a succinct, catchy way.

So when I pitched my book at those same writers’ conferences, I’d say “Sex And The City in the Regency,” and editors and agents would nod excitedly and ask me to send a partial and synopsis. Which is, in fact, how my book sold–I pitched it to an editor and an agent at the same conference and it sold to one and I got representation from the other.

So, if you’re a reader, how would you characterize your favorite book in a high concept sentence? If you’re a writer, do you think in high concept? What’s your latest project’s high concept? Do you find it easier to think in high concept, or is it just more work?

And while you’re thinking about that, I’ll be off saving a puppy.

Megan

Posted in Reading, Risky Book Talk, Writing | Tagged , | 7 Replies

Laura Kinsale, Light and Dark Stories

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Not long ago, I heard the good news that Laura Kinsale has completed a new book.

For anyone who doesn’t already know, Laura Kinsale writes superb historical romances, many of them featuring amazingly tortured heroes. In fact, no one does dark heroes better, as the judges of this year’s Romance Writers of America RITA contest recognized in selecting her last release, SHADOWHEART, as Best Historical Romance. My critique partners and I sometimes refer to her as the Goddess. When we analyze her scenes, as a writing exercise, we usually find ourselves genuflecting and mumbling, “We are not worthy, we are not worthy…”

OK, I could rhapsodize for a while longer, but you get the picture.

I read on her website (www.laurakinsale.com/books/lucky.html) that Laura decided to do a lighter story after all the angst and turmoil in SHADOWHEART. It’s going to be more like her other lighter book, MIDSUMMER MOON.

As presumptuous, not to say blasphemous, as it is to say this, I think I understand. Some of my earlier Regencies were on the light side, but LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE has darker elements than I’ve tackled before (still Little League compared to SHADOWHEART, of course). I found myself suffering along with my characters, which can be a draining experience. When I started another angsty story it was like wading through an ever-deepening snowdrift. Now I’m doing a lighter one and finding that the ideas are coming a little more quickly (though first drafts are never easy). So for me, changing up was a creative necessity.

However, switching gears feels like yet another creative risk.

I think Laura Kinsale’s devoted fans will buy her next book. I certainly will. But do some readers feel cheated when an author of an angsty (or funny, or sweet, or sexy… you name it) book does something radically different in her next?

I wonder.

Elena
www.elenagreene.com

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged | 12 Replies