Posts in which we talk about the writing craft and process
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.
Critique night for me was last night, and it was at my house,
and in my case that entails quite a bit of preparation since I am not easily made “company ready.” So I spent a few hours picking up,
rushing around with this and that, and running various noisy machines, all of which had my four cats either staring at me in astonishment or running in the opposite direction. It all came together though, and we
got together, ate (an important component of our critiques), read our chapters and discussed. We always have a very good time, too—and it was late before we were finished, again usual for us, which is why we meet on Friday nights.
Well, today I am suffering from the aftereffects! I am sore, tired, and ready to write. It just happens to be a tiny bit later than usual…Ahem.
I thought I’d put up a few shots of some pictures I have on my hard drive from the Beau Monde conference I attended in 2003.
Here is Gail Eastwood, Elena Green, and I at the evening event. I fail to remember the theme, but we attend in appropriate costume and have various activities—lessons in the card games of the period, lessons in dance (conducted by Gail Eastwood, who is knowledgeable not only of Regency dance, but of other periods as well) and the like.
All of these photos were taken in a closed room under artificial lighting, so it is hard to get the colors right. I did some photo editing to try to make the best of it.
Here are some shots of the dancing…and gorgeous costumes!
And some of my favorite costumes…
The flowered gown below is our Cara. The “gentleman” is Regina Scott, whose “Reginald” steals the evening.
Below is a lady, whose name I unfortunately do not have, who told me that her gown (orange and gold) is made from sari material. I tried to get a better shot of her gown, but my batteries died. 🙁
I truly love this gown. I believe she said it was made by a seamstress in India—but my memory could be failing me. It doesn’t show well in this small picture, but it is a figured material–there are tiny blue flowers all over it.
Another lovely white gown.
Please, everyone—pitch in and supply names of anyone I could not, or if I have wrongly identified anyone…thanks so much!
PS–I am wearing my Golden Heart from the previous year, and if I remember correctly, this is the year that Cara won the Beau Monde Royal Ascot contest and Ammanda won the Bookseller’s Best. Am I right?!
Laurie
LORD RYBURN’S APPRENTICE
Signet, January, 2006
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?
It’s an acronym that pops up in romance discussion-land way more than us authors would like.
Running into the dark, scary castle wearing only a nightgown? TSTL.
Forgetting to charge your cell phone before embarking on a trip with some dodgy nationalists and a rugged, dangerously handsome SEAL? TSTL.
In Regency-land, our heroines can, and do, do stupid things. Like believing a random piece of gossip told by a sketchy person rather than believing the gorgeous hunk who’s been getting her all steamed up for 100 pages. How about thinking she’s completely ugly because she’s got the wrong color hair, even though there’s a gorgeous hunk who keeps popping up from behind the potted palms at Almack’s to ogle her? And what about thinking no-one will ever love her because she’s (eek!) smart.
Well, people are stupid in real life. This is not to defend the TSTL heroine, but to admit I’ve been there.
For example, I am the most gullible person in the world. That time when someone told me “gullible” wasn’t in the dictionary? Fell for it. And later on, when I was purportedly an adult, someone convinced me that survivalists used frozen fish sticks as weapons. Yes, you read that right. Frozen fish sticks. That orange netting construction companies put on the sides of big buildings when they’re getting worked on? Another person convinced me it was to protect suicidal stockbrokers when they jumped out of buildings during stock market crashes.
So–who’s your favorite TSTL heroine, and why? What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?
Thanks for sharing–
Megan