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Category: Writing

Posts in which we talk about the writing craft and process

New Jersey And Me: Perfect Together!*

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Last weekend, half of the Risky Regencies crew–Elena Greene, Janet Mullany, and I–attended the New Jersey Romance Writers’ Conference. Janet was unfortunately suffering from a cold, so her trademarked (and if it’s not, it should be) spunk was muted by sniffles. She still managed a few zingers, though. That Janet’s a trooper!

Friday night, the three of us ate dinner with several more Regency authors. In case you think all Regency authors are staid little misses wearing Empire waists and fussing about their dance cards (“do I have one or don’t I? I can’t finish this book unless I know for sure!”), I’ve included photos of Elena and me actually drinking! Oh, we sure know how to party, right?

Elena’s drink was a mammoth marguerita, while mine was a beer. If I were a Regency character, I think that drink choice would demand I be the maid-of-all-work, scrubbing the stairs in the early hours when the heroine returned from another fabulous night on the town. Good thing I’m writing in the world, not living in it. I am a horrible stair-scrubber. A darn good drinker, though, if I might be so bold.

The next day, the Conference was open to the public for a booksigning. Elena and I were seated directly across from each other, and I saw a lot of folks coming up to her table. I sold some books, too, and not all of them to people I know! That was pretty cool. I snapped pix of Elena and Janet, and someone got me, too.

This was my first booksigning, and I had a blast. It was great to meet people who like to read the kind of book I wrote, it was awesome to sign my name and think it actually meant something more than an ‘oh, I’m paying the bills’ signature. Elena and Janet actually decorated their spots on the long tables, and they looked lovely; me, I brought a pen.

The main point of the Conference, however, was the workshops. I attended quite a few, from the purpose of blogging (not, I was amazed to discover, just to tell a bunch of Virtual strangers all about my private life!), to the importance of getting the history right to increasing the sexuality of our books.

The most useful panel for me, however, was Eloisa James’ panel on Ten Things She Wished She’d Known When Starting Out in theBusiness. Eloisa James is a super-smart author, and she makes a compelling point about keeping the business of writing a business. For example, don’t share too much information with your fellow writers; share, yes, of course, make friends and further acquaintances, but don’t behave as if you’re in high school. Or maybe you should–you never know when your best friend today will be your enemy tomorrow, but instead of stealing your boyfriend, she’ll try to steal your editor. Eloisa also talked about the good parts of being an author, which includes that same camaraderie (for her demonstration, visit the Squawk Radio site. But you probably already have).

That’s one of the best things about becoming part of the Risky Regency crew: we’re getting to know each other as our visitors do, too. I’m envious of Cara’s book collection and her sprightly snark (I think mine is much more dour), Laurie’s evocative mood-altering posts, Janet’s fabulous wit, Amanda’s sassy, saucy assuredness, and Elena’s graciously lovely humor and good sense (not to mention she’s so good at the tech stuff).

After the weekend was over, I got myself and my vast collection of black clothing onto New Jersey Transit and made the trek back to Brooklyn. I went home feeling like more of a writer, like someone who was part of a community and, what was the best, as if I had learned from my peers.

Thanks for sharing in our community,

Megan

*Okay, so if you’ve never seen the “Come Vacation In New Jersey” ads from a few years ago, this doesn’t make sense. If you have, trust me, this is hysterical.

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Reader Mail!

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No, this isn’t about the upcoming new movie adaptation of THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE, even though I’m eagerly looking forward to it.

It’s about reader mail and its effect on the writer.

First I have to say I’ve enjoyed all the reader mail I’ve received so far. Most of the letters I’ve gotten were from people who enjoyed my books, along with a few from people who just wanted to share something they loved about the Regency. Even when readers don’t care for my books, it’s fascinating to find out what they are thinking. This one, from a reader I won’t name, is no exception!

—

Elena Greene:

My Lion roars his disgust, as to (sic) I after wading thru page after page of explicit sex in Saving Lord Verwood which I just finished. Yuk!

You are an excellent writer and the plot was good keeping one’s interest. I know explicit sex (leaving nothing to the imagination) seems to be the in thing. Surely with your writing ability you do not need to pander to or wallow in the antics that go on in the bedroom. Hopefully the trend will turn again toward decency.

With kindest thoughts I remain a Regency reader.

(name excluded)

P.S. Would you really want your young daughters to read such trash?

—

Initially, I felt a bit stunned by this letter. I’d never received anything like it before, and it wasn’t as if I were the first author to put a sex scene into a traditional Regency. But mostly, I wondered whether I’d slept through writing all those pages and pages of “explicit sex”! Had the copy editor gone wild with it? I reopened the book and looked through and yes, the love scenes were there, just as I’d written them, not particularly graphic at all.

The adult part of me (that sometimes thinks it’s in charge) shook off the label of “trash”. I don’t write with the intent of offending anyone, but I know I can’t please everyone either. I am not writing children’s fiction, so the postscript didn’t shame me the way it was clearly intended to. So I exchanged some emails with my critique partners and we all laughed it off.

However, there’s another part of me–the subconscious mind, the muse, the inner artist child–call it what you want, it’s the place ideas come from. That part of me wants desperately to please everyone. Soon after receiving this letter, I reached the wedding night scene in LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE and found myself battling a fierce writer’s block. Finally until I realized that I was trying to write a scene that would 1) show, in a tender and realistic way, how the hero/heroine had overcome the problems of their earlier unhappy marriages and 2) not offend readers like this one. Rather impossible!

So the adult side of me counseled the kid. I told myself that one person’s spice is another’s poison and I had to be true to my voice and my characters. I also reminded myself that this particular reader had forced herself to read it, “page after page”! Perhaps writing the letter was just a way of easing her conscience over enjoying it?

Anyway, so far readers and reviewers are praising LDM. If at some point there are those who disagree, I can deal with it. Sometimes feedback may lead me to change my future work, but sometimes it just clarifies who I am as a writer.

So, my fellow authors, how do you deal with less-than-positive reader mail?

And readers, do please keep those emails and letters coming!

Elena 🙂
www.elenagreene.com/

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It’s Not About The Romance, Stupid!

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Here’s a thing I discovered when writing my first book, A Singular Lady: writing about the gentle progression towards love is really, really boring.
The only way to make a romance novel come alive is to write about everything but the romance. In other words, take two people whose circumstances, situation, personalities, etc., would normally compel them to stay as far away from each other as possible and take them on a journey, a slow, inexorable climb to the inevitable HEA. Make it as hard on them as possible. As my pal William Shakespeare likes to say,

For aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth.

Bill, you got that right. Make them suffer. Make your characters stare down into the pit of despair that is their future, and pull them back only when it seems their fall is inevitable. That is what makes a compelling romance. The stuff that writers sometimes focus on–the first kiss, the first fondle, in Janet’s case, the first bondage–that is circumstantial. It happens because it has to happen, because circumstances dictate that your characters fall in love even though every single thing in their lives seems to point to the other person as being the worst possible person to fall in love with. It shouldn’t be the focus of the book, it should be an unavoidable event, caused by the characters themselves, not the need for massive boinking. A great romance novel isn’t about the romance, or even lust. It’s about making your characters complete. And with completion comes love.

Megan

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Covers

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A few days ago, I got a packet of cover flats for my next book, A TANGLED WEB. I like it all right–the purple color is very pretty and rich, the couple not quite as cute-sy as some (though that scene never really happened in the story, and the heroine would NEVER wear purple polyester!). But it made me start thinking about a subject near to every author’s heart–covers. The good, the bad, the ugly.

For better or worse, a cover (something we have zilch control over) can have a huge influence on sales. A vivid, beautiful, interesting cover can grab a reader’s eye and make them pick the book up off the shelf. A bad, ugly, or just plain bland cover can mean that the book, our “baby”, is overlooked, turned away from, even (gasp!) made fun of. (See the hilarious Worst Cover category in AAR’s annual cover contest).

These days there is a vast array of styles out there. There are still old-style clinches. You know the ones–anatomically improbable people falling out of their clothes, bent into poses that would mean a trip to the ER in real life and months in traction. Or my personal cliche favorite, one which seems to pop up often at Avon, the bacon-brained hero who forgot to put his shirt on before running out into the snow after the negligee-clad heroine. But he DID remember his cheesy Wal Mart vampire cape.

There are cartoon covers, some of which are cute and suit the story, some just–weird. There are flowers, castles, pearls, and other inanimate objects. There is hero alone (usually displaying his manly chest), heroine alone, headless people (I actually like these very much), classic paintings. A few I’ve noticed lately:

Liz Carlyle’s ONE LITTLE SIN–headless people, great, bright colors, very eye-catching and sexy without being ludicrous. She’s had several great covers. I’m jealous.

Gaelen Foley’s ONE NIGHT OF SIN–personifcation of headless couple-dom. Red background, very sexy.

Barbara Metzger’s ACE OF HEARTS–her previous historicals had that nice headless couple design, misty colors, very pretty, but this one–WTF? Looks like some weird Halloween Western.

Laura Kinsale’s SHADOWHEART–amazing book, boring cover. This story screams out for a gorgeous Italian Renaissance painting. Maybe a detail of a Botticelli?

And speaking of paintings, there are Susan Carroll’s THE DARK QUEEN and THE COURTESAN. Again, amazingly terrific books. They look good, too, trade size, 1/4 bright foil, 3/4 a detail of a beautiful painting. BUT–the stories take place in the 16th century. DARK QUEEN features a fluffy Boucher painting; COURTESAN a portrait of Empress Josephine. Very distracting.

Meredith Bond’s LOVE OF MY LIFE–one of those gorgeous Zebra covers that didn’t get a chance. Headless heroine in a vivid turquoise gown, Taj Mahal in the background. Great.

So, what covers do you like/dislike? What would make you pick up a book–or run away screaming in horror? What are some all-time favorites?

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End of Summer…

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I’m always a little sad when I realize the end of summer is coming. Well today it is here, since it is October first, but the sun is shining today (after an awful, cold, rainy Friday) and I can hear the birds through my open window. And…it is quiet. Or still quiet, I should say, since Saturdays in a small city never stay that way.

I plan to take a walk down by the river and check out the locks close and personal. I love the sound of the water coursing over the dam, the call of the gulls, the peaceful, meditative nature of it. But for now, I am thinking about the Regency and considering what would be different…or the same.

Birds. Crickets. A distant baby’s cry. The sound of the river… There is no traffic at the moment, but if there was, it would be the clop-clopping of horses’ hooves up the street on cobblestone, or perhaps it would be a more muffled thudding in dirt or mud. I would hear the jingling of harness and the occasional call of the drivers to their team (I say occasional, as I am trying to keep it as peaceful as it is now!). There would be the smell of horse instead of exhaust, whiffs of coal or wood smoke, perhaps the hot metal smell from a nearby blacksmith’s forge.

My heroine might well be gazing out the window and thinking of a walk, just as I am. She would have a book in her hand, or be writing a letter, but the warm day has called to her. Since this is a small city, she’d don a proper walking dress, but if she were like me she would choose to wear what was comfortable over fashion and seek a walk to satisfy her soul rather than to be seen.

Times change. People, not so much. Not at their center. Surroundings, attitudes, fashion, beliefs, laws, and habits change. Not hearts.

When we write, we rely on what has not changed…and we try our best to understand what has. Unlike writing contemporary novels, we cannot speak to witnesses to gather information. We cannot visit the places where the characters dwelt. Oh, we can go to the geographic location, certainly, and it will yield clues–but it will not be the same. Roads have changed or gone out of use and grown over. Buildings have vanished, and something new may or may not be standing in their steads. Erosion and war has altered the landscape. New flora will be growing that did not exist at the time of the story, and old varieties will have vanished.

I think of roses and the many beautiful varieties that exist now, the hybrid teas, tall and straight-stemmed with those artfully folded petals of such substance…and then think of the old roses, the ones on short, weak and bending stems, the blossoms a soft ball of delicate petals in unformed arrangement, exuding an intoxicatingly sweet scent. They were beautiful…beautiful in their own way, bending their lovely wild faces toward the earth, heavy with dew.

But we can understand the beauty of the rose of whatever form. We can understand human nature. We understand the human heart.

Not much of substance in this today, I am afraid. But this is what I am thinking on this lovely day at the end of summer, as the last roses fade.

Laurie

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