Since last week’s I AM WRITING, GOSH DARN IT post, I have been . . . writing! Yay!

Not to mention doing the other things I do, such as taking care of my son, my husband, the house, my addiction to Scramble, the odd financial detail and therapy. What–you thought my neuroses were organic? Heck, no, they’re carefully cultivated!

Anyway, in therapy, we’ve been discussing low frustration tolerance, the tendency for someone to seek “immediate pleasure or avoidance of pain at the cost of long-term stress and defeatism.” Apparently, I have it, because I try to fix things as soon as they are uncomfortable for me.

While I try to sit with the uncomfortable feelings for longer than I have been able to in the past, I’ve also been thinking about LFT in terms of my writing; specifically, my need to make everything better for my characters. Which, oddly enough, results in pretty boring plots. I mean, who wants to hear about someone who has a hiccup in their life that’s solved easily in the next chapter?

My answer to that would be: “No one.”

So while I’m adjusting my LFT in real life, I’m also examining my plot to make sure I sustain uncomfortable moments for longer so the resolution is ultimately more satisfying. To that end, in my current WIP, I am going to kill off a beloved character (well, beloved by me, at least) because it serves the story better, even though it makes me sad.

How’s your FT? What books have you read where the uncomfortable feeling has been well-sustained? At what point in the books you read or write do you like to resolve things?

Um . . . hi all.

Last night I had a heart-to-brain talk with my spouse, who’s always been super-supportive of my writing. I told him I’d had a mini-panic attack that day because I actually had plans to write, which I haven’t found time for lately.

You have to write. We’re–all of us–sacrificing so you can follow your dream, he said.

Gulp.

But it’s so hard, my whiny inner voice said (thankfully, I did not utter that out loud. Scott works 50+hours a week, PLUS does freelance writing).

A whole book? Writing a whole book? Again?

And then I put it in perspective; say I wanted to make movies. I’d have a camera, maybe a few friends who would tolerate being ordered around, and a few ideas. I couldn’t ever make the movie of my dreams, not without a whole lotta money and some clout.

If I wanted to paint, I’d need a dedicated workspace, a lot of oil paints, training and someone willing to exhibit my work. Not sure how long it takes to paint a painting, but I bet it’s a long time. And I am guessing the art world is harder to break into than the book world.

Or music; okay, never mind, it’s easier to distribute music these days. But would I make money? (not with me singing, my son would be happy to point out) Probably not. And I would need to work with other musicians, and have time and training and expensive instruments and recording equipment.

But a book?

I can write the book of my dreams on my own (I’ve already got a computer. And an imagination). Theoretically, of course.

So today’s post is short, since I’ve got to finish other work, and then get to writing. I’ve got a dream to follow.

Thanks for putting up with my whining,

Megan

A lot of writing guides say to ‘write what you know.’ In my case, my heroines tend to be insecure, slightly neurotic, smart, witty and acerbic. So? What’s your point?

But one way, I’ve realized, that I don’t write what I know is in my heroine’s appearance. Namely, her boobs. See, I’m not so busty. I used to be, about twenty years ago, then I lost a bunch of weight and realized I wasn’t really all that much. But my heroines? They are stacked. Their breasts are gorgeous. My heroes notice their bosoms, too, which is fun to write about–a female fantasy, if you will.

But oddly enough, in my contemporaries, my heroines are built a lot more like me (but cuter). They’ve got some junk in their trunk, and not so much on top. I hadn’t really thought about it much, but when I figured it out, I think I decided it’s because my historical books are way more fantastic world-building, whereas the contemporaries mirror my own life much more. Because, see, I haven’t been to Almack’s in forever.

Anyway, it’s fun to create a person who is who you’d like to be, in appearance at least. I guess that’s why most of those ’80s sturm und drang romances had impossibly beautiful heroines, which rings so false to current readers–those authors were creating a total fantasy, writing a heroine who was perfect–too perfect–in many ways. We’re a lot more realistic now, but I’m still going to write a heroine whose cups runneth over.

Which heroine would you most like to look like? If you were writing a super-heroic you, what feature(s) would you change?

Megan

Any moderately well-read Regency reader can spot an anachronism from pages away: A woman who refers to her gown as having an Empire waist, zippers, chocolate, calling people of other nationalities by politically-correct names. Sure, and some of us authors (ahem!) have fallen down on the job of getting titles right, etc.

But what about the more subtle nuances? Or things that seem anachronistic, but aren’t?

For example, this week I watched a Chinese romantic comedy called Needing You. It stars my new favorite, Andy Lau, and the adorably cute Sammi Cheng. They work in the same office, and Lau is Cheng’s boss. The movie was made in 2000, so I was stunned when Lau commented to one of the other women in the office that her outfit would look a lot better if it was lower to show her boobs and the slit in her skirt were higher. Whoa, he said that?!? That would never pass muster in an American-made film, unless later he were forced to wear the outfit in question and go through a cat-call gauntlet. Not to mention it’s illegal in American workplaces to mention anything about appearance (right? I don’t work in a workplace, so I can compliment myself as much as I want, since I’m the only one here).

There were a few other instances of double standards in the workplace in the film, and it was hard for an American woman such as myself to take them in stride. But that reality is their reality, not mine, and if it’s something that rings true to them, so be it. I’m the outsider who has to deal with it.

Another film I saw this week was Inglourious Basterds, where a spy was found out because he made a gesture no German would do. It wasn’t even anything he thought about because it was so subtle, but it was a beacon for the gestapo guy sitting across from him. Societal norms are so strong within each of us that we don’t even think about the way we eat, or hold a pen, or make our “7”s, or wear our jeans–but you can always spot someone who’s not from around your parts by any of those tiny tells.

Then there’s language. Some of our ‘dirtiest’ language has been around for centuries, even though it might seem like a modern invention. So sometimes when it’s used in our books it’s not just for the shock value, but because that’s how they spoke. And, yes, certain sexual acts have been around forever, too, even though once I heard (laughably) an author say indignantly that Regency people didn’t do that. In a pig’s eye, I say; as long as men have had those, and we’ve had all this, all those acts have been done. Just saying.

Of course, that’s not to say Regency authors should worry less about historical and social accuracy, but just to say that there were doubtless exceptions for every accepted fact in our history. Things couldn’t exist that hadn’t been invented, but it is important to remember every Society has its own quirks, even societies existing within the same time period such as my Chinese film above; it’s kinda fun to think about, actually, and makes reading and writing the books even more fun.

What’s the most egregious error you’ve ever spotted? What have you thought was an anachronism that wasn’t? Which anachronisms bother you the most?

Megan

Right around this time, members of RWA are receiving big packets full of dreams–Golden Heart and RITA entries. The Golden Heart is RWA’s national contest for unpublished manuscripts, while the RITA is for published books.

I got my ginormous (eight books!) box of books this week, and I have a lot of reading to do. What I like best about judging the RITA is the chance to get exposed to books I don’t tend to pick up; yes, they’re all romance, but this box includes a bunch of category romances, which I don’t normally read. I pride myself on keeping a good perspective on the books, even if they’re not my usual cup of tea, so I feel comfortable taking on these genres (all except inspirational; I had one of those last year, and it was very hard for me to gauge. I hope I did a good job with it).

Reading out of your comfort zone can be liberating and exciting; maybe you’ll find an author you absolutely adore, or a trope you just can’t stand. It can also confirm your reasons for not reading in that genre, but that just means you know more coming out than you did when you started the book.

Do you read entirely within your normal range? Or do you take risks with other genres? If so, what was the last book you broke your own boundaries with?