It's That Time of Year

So, what did you accomplish this year? Did you manage to keep up with your resolutions? Succeed your expectations? Or did you (like me) get sucked under by the Bonzai Pipeline of life?

Well, here's your chance to fight back (isn't it great that it comes around every year?). Get ready to redeem yourself.

2009 is nigh. In just a few scant days - mere hours, really - that big old glittery ball will come down in Times Square, the fireworks will go off, the bubbly will pop, if you're lucky your special someone(s) will plant a big wet one on you, and we'll be off to the races for another year.

If you, like me, watched your goal lines drift further and further away, like a nightmare where you run as hard as you can, but your destination fades inexorably, frustratingly, into the distance, then this will be your opportunity to regroup, re-evaluate where you stand, pull yourself up by your bootstraps, gird your loins, and make a whole new game plan for success. And remember, that success is a very personal thing. It can be a single, small achievement. It can be a great and masterful one. It can be a day-to-day resolution to simply keep trying, keep going, fight the good fight. To find the right words. Or hone a skill. To be more prolific, more organized, more diligent or raise the bar another notch. What is your goal? What are you driven to do in 2009?

I did not reach my goal of a polished manuscript this year. Though, in truth, I did a lot of good writing, and I learned a good deal about my skills - and my shortcomings. I learned to write tight, short, succinct fiction which, given my propensity for epic writing, is no small achievement. I learned some technical things, including a tremendous deal about the business, the industry and where publishing is poised to surge ahead (e-publishing, by the way, is the answer). I garnered a wealth of knowledge about marketing and promotion theory and practice. I made a first trip to a great conference and networked like crazy, meeting new people from both sides of the writing aisle. I discovered that I had unknowingly developed an on-line presence for myself, simply by having a blog, interacting with other bloggers and participating in on-line discussion groups, and sharing what knowledge I have, such as the legal aspects of publishing and intellectual property. In some cases just giving support and congratulations. So it was not a complete failure. But my achievements were tarnished by my failure to live up to my own expectations.

Where I did not hold my own, where I fell down on the job, was in finding and fighting for my personal time. Familial obligations, a full-time job, and an inability to say "no" to volunteering whenever asked, both required extensive time and energy commitments. As a result I did not, ultimately, follow through with plans to rise earlier, go to bed later, or in general carve out those precious blocks of time to work on my desired projects. It is desperately hard to do this. I should have been more motivated by the non-support - no, the blatant anti-support - I received from family. But instead I let them get me down, I succumbed to their negativity and wallowed in my own lack of progress. For 2009, however, I'll use those snarky comments as fuel for my determination. Of course, suffering some guilt will be implicit in this planning. The cabinets will be slightly more bare. The floors a bit less shiny, and the dust bunnies a tad more prolific (but hey, they don't carry rabies, so what difference could it make?). I will be less available for certain family members who wish to syphon off my time for their frivolous needs. Fewer committees will have my services, fewer personal requests for assistance will be fulfilled, and I'll get less sleep than I might like.

But it will all be worth it. In 2009 I'm going to take what I DID learn in 2008 and put it to good use. I will meet my goal of a finished, polished, manuscript. I will meet my goal of submitting it to an honest-to-goodness publisher. And I will meet my goal of proving to myself, once and for all, that I am, indeed, the author, the writer, that I have steadfastly claimed to be - despite evidence offered to the contrary by naysayers. And I extend my most heartfelt wish for the same for all of my fellow writers who have struggled to balance their lives and their creative needs. Be strong. Be fearless. Be brave in heart and soul and strong in body and mind.

Now. What do you resolve?

The Community of Writers

Last Saturday I, along with 3 intrepid fellow members of my RWA Chapter, trekked from Manhattan to Nutley, New Jersey to see a panel of romance authors discuss the e-publishing business.

Now, imagine if you will, a day with high winds, below freezing temperatures (albeit sunny). We congregate at the Port Authority (which, I must say, has come a long way from the mid-70's when I was busing it back and forth to Skidmore College. There's food courts as far as the eye can see, and nary a homeless person). There was however, also no bus as far as the eye could see. For 50 minutes we waited, regaling ourselves (and no doubt our fellow travelers) loudly and with good natured grousing. The bus ride was short, and Nutley was a lovely town. However, the bus stop was 1 1/4 miles from the Nutley Library and as it was nearly 12:30 we hoofed it while following our living breathing MapQuest guide, Lis, and laughing, stumbling and essentially freezing our tits off.

We passed a girls' touch football game attended by many from Nutley High. We kept track of the numerous bars and restaurants because we had already decided we REALLY needed a cocktail! And, fortunately, upon our arrival at the library, we found ourselves not so late as to have missed the start of the event, and with food and beverages still to be had no less.

A wonderful panel ensued - with RWA members Cathy Greenfeder, Kathy Quick and Patt Milhailoff, along with Penny Marzac who offered a succinct "history of the e-book" for those of us less familiar with the operations.

Cathy spoke of her experiences publishing two novels with Wings E Press. Kathy Q. and Patt (writing as P. K. Eden as well as individually) discussed their writing process, the work on their joint book, and particulars of their marketing efforts which, as the panel agreed, require more from the e-published author than they do from the traditionally published book that has the added benefit of being available to pick up, look at, glance through - all of which encourage purchase.

The pluses of e-publishing - the ability to write outside of the fairly rigid and sales-driven genre "box" that traditional editors and publishers insist upon. The opportunity to blend genres and write about those eras and subject matters that "aren't popular now".

With handouts from Cathy G. that provided a wealth of info on different e-publishers and other resources, and an encouraging pep talk from Patt M. urging everyone to take advantage of the e-publishing opportunity and write the book of your heart, along with a spirited question and answer session and a fun photo shoot, it was a marvelous afternoon.

That Cathy invited us back to her lovely home, introduced us to her rambunctious new pup, Murphy, and plied us with tea and nibbles, as well as a lovely conversation on writing, publishing, and Hugh Jackman, was the piece de resistance. It was a truly fun "class trip".

I arrived home at 8 pm. A long day. A full day.

But what was best was the chance to join in with like-minded ladies and support our friends. Cheer on their efforts and learn from their experiences. Hug them, laugh with them, and share good food and drink with them.

I ask you, what better community is there than the one we inhabit? Generosity, enthusiasm, mentoring, compassion, support and hilarity. Nothing can match it and I wanted to take this chance to applaud us all.

Long may we write!

And Away We Go!

A week ago I made my first visit to the New Jersey Romance Writers' Put Your Heart In A Book conference. Now this was an auspicious event for a variety of reasons. First, as a caretaker, I had not taken a vacation away from home in 13 years. That's right, folks, so this little sojourn (3 days, 2 nights in the lovely Sheraton at Woodbridge Place, NJ, king-sized bed, big TV, great shower and ah, maid service!) was quite an exciting moment for me. Second, I was planning a huge step: PITCHING to an editor.

I was going with friends, so I knew I wouldn't be sitting in a corner all woebegon and wallflowerish. I overpacked (where's Sherpas-R-Us when you need them?) but in the end it was all good. I had all the right clothes, a custom-made necklace of delicious purple crystal and lots of libations (as advised by a friend, lest I go broke with room-service vino).

Arriving on a glorious Friday morning, I was soon caught up in registration madness. Then, my first big disappointment. I had registered on-line for editor appointments, having done great amounts of research on my five favorites - their publishing houses and authors, the lines the editors attending worked for - I was totally on top of everything.

But the techno-black-hole had eaten my registration so lo and behold - I got no appointments. My pitch practice, it appeared, was for naught. But wait! There was a free appointment for one of my traditional publishing house choices (Tor/Forge) and I snapped it up like Imelda Marcos at a shoe sale (dating myself much?). Excited at the reprieve, I plunged into the days' events with gusto. Lunch, included. Five of us gathered to eat modest fare and yack it up about our books and our pitches and then huddled over the program to decide on workshops.

NJ presented a wonderful array of workshops, from the business, to craft, inspirational and motivational to technological. I made my choices and then our little group of intrepid romance authors split up. Three of us were "first timers" and so went to that event, which was a hoot. A Saturday Night live level comedy of all the things NOT to do at a conference (run an NFL block to get to your favorite editor, slide your MS under the bathroom stall door). I had no qualms that I'd be well behaved. After all, I'm shy. And one of the hardest things for me to do is get pushy (something I'd learned in my acting days, to my detriment), SO, I knew I'd be OK.

Next up was "Stalking the Wild Agent". It was one of those times when it turned out my interest in the business side of this romance writing game meant I already knew the lion's share of the info dispensed by the funny speaker who nonetheless made it a worthwhile experience.

With my Luddite sensibility I chose wisely and next took Penny Sansevieri's Red Hot Internet Publicity workshop. Penny spoke as fast as a country auctioneer, but it was necessary to get in as much info as possible, all of which was wonderfully informative and helpful for me. I learned where a visitor's eye travels on your website, how the Google and search engine rankings system works, and how to optimize your time by "recycling" material from website, to Blog, to Facebook and Twitter. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. It was a great way to reinforce my own opinion that an internet presence is vital.

Last up for Friday was an epublishing seminar by Angela James, editor, of Samhain publishing. Honest and forthright, she gave us the nuts and bolts of how epublishing works, and the differences between a traditional publishing operation, including the differences in advances, royalty structure and distribution.

The evening was a glamorous one as we all dolled up for the cocktail reception and the Golden Leaf & Put Your Heart in a Book awards ceremony. The New Jersey chapter is immense and the events were well-organized, fun and uplifting. The awards were numerous, but the reception for all the authors rousing and genuine. With this business as tough as it is, these opportunities to cheer our fellow authors on is both motivational for the rest of us and reinforces my firm belief that this is one of the most generous communities around.

We all gabbed and yours truly won a goody bag filled with contributed booty from the NJ folks.

After hours we slipped into comfy duds (OK, well I did) and gathered in a room to chatter, sip some wine and beer, and nosh (no dinner was served beyond the cocktail hors d'oerves so we munched) until the wee hours. Religion, politics, women's rights and some lighter fare made for a great night. The opportunity to engage in good conversation with intelligent friends is always a good thing.

After a good night's sleep (which I wasn't expecting since I'm both a light sleeper and a paranoid one) it was hit the ground running or get left behind on Saturday.

I wasn't one of the fortunate first 100 who got the pleasure of an early am meet with bestselling author JR Ward. But two of my gal friends did and said it was a wild, fun ride, with the author who warned them up-front that she had a "potty mouth". Breakfast Keynote speaker Eloisa James' personal rendition of her path to publication was humorous and poignant, by turns, and while I already loved the Professor's wonderful Regency romance books, I found out the lady herself is equally appealing.

Again I opted for a website workshop - needing all the help I can get - and was wowed by the amazing team of Caridad Pineiro and Rayna Vause. They took us from A to Z of websites, including an in-depth explanation of meta tags, links, design parameters, hosting possibilities, and the need for a serious web presence, even before you may have sold.

Then it was time. THE BIG MOMENT. Editor & agent appointments began. Ladies (and a few gents) queued up for the 15 minute "speed dating" arrangement. My appointment was well into the morning, but two friends spotted extra agent appointments available and urged me to try for one, if only to practice my pitch. I managed to grab one for a session just getting ready to start and was lucky enough to sit down with editor Tricia Owens of The Wild Rose Press. I sucked it up, called on my enthusiasm for my MS (Just In Time - a sexy and suspenseful time travel thriller of Jack The Ripper) and my former actress' ability to "present" myself and I was off and running. Imagine my absolute surprise when Ms. Owens requested the full MS and even called over her fellow editors to discuss an appropriate line. When questioned as to whether I'd add more sex if they required it (they obviously don't know me!) I said "SURE" and danced away with heady glee.

Said heady glee was soon dampened, however, when my Tor/Forge appointment turned out to be a non-appointment as the editor had not shown for the conference. My name and info was taken, however, and I was assured by the wonderful appointment volunteers from NJ that they'd make sure she sent me an email request for a partial submission.

With the pressure off, I was able to plunge back into the workshops, getting in on the end of the JR Ward/Jessica Andersen hilarious get-together re: worldbuilding.

Luncheon was a raucous affair with speaker Lisa Scottaline keeping us all in stitches. She got serious, though, to echo Eloisa James' opinion that it is writing what excites you, what touches you, what is meaningful to you, that is the one big MUST.

Able to relax and rejoice after my successful pitch appointment, I sat in on the editors' panel and laughed along with the great group of ladies from Harlequin, Berkely, Avalon, Wild Rose Press, Bantam, Samhain and Lachesis (& more!). Once again a single "must" was reiterated: What were they looking for? More paranormal? More comedy? More sex? Bottom line: Every editor agreed - they're looking for good stories. So don't try to squeeze yourself into a category or genre because you think it is hot. Write the great story and they will come.

Feeling a bit shell-shocked I decided the craft workshops that had appealed earlier required too much brain power, so I sat in on the Perils & Pitfalls of Publishing contracts by the amazing Energerizer Bunny, Caridad P. (President of the chapter, she was everywhere!). Despite my day job at an entertainment law firm, where I have learned all about publishing contracts, I was still able to get some new intel, including the new move to add "non-compete" clauses in the publishing contracts.

After that it was time for a huge dinner. My group of 6 trucked across the highway to a Tuesdays where we enjoyed a nice meal, and a handsome waiter who served us wacky and wild ladies with aplomb.

Back at the Hotel the "Afterparty" was underway and when we were warned the ladies would be letting their hair down, they weren't kidding. A DJ, karaoke and some wild old tunes had everyone up and shaking their booties. My NYC chapter contingent even went so far as to serenade our fellow antendees with a passable version of NEW YORK, NEW YORK.

After that it was a group of zombies who headed back to our rooms, the fun and games over, the anxiety of polishing submissions for our requests not yet setting in.

I packed, had a lovely call with my e-fella and then hit the sack. Sunday dawned beautiful and autumnal and my traveling partner and I trudged to the train, and headed back into Manhattan. There we parted company and I trundled onto the LIRR and back to my quiet Sunday at home.

I could not have been more exhausted. But I had a great time, came through my first pitch with flying colors, networked for all I was worth and met a huge number of fantabulistic ladies.

Kudos to the NJ Chapter for a most wonderful event (I'll be back!) to my gals for sharing in the fun, and here's to success for all of us as we get ready to leap into the next chapter of this publishing fray!

Epiphanies

Life has been a bit tough lately. Certainly I'm not alone in this but as a writer if I'm too down, stressed, anxious to write, well that is a bad thing, no? I've been running myself ragged trying to satisfy demands of home, work, family, friends and all those responsibilities that I, as the girl who can't say no, am overwhelmed with. I had a very late night last night (and as Danny Glover announces repeatedly in the Lethal Weapon films - I'm too old for this shit) and didn't get enough sleep. In instances like that I normally wake up grouchy, exhausted and stressed before the day begins. But a funny thing happened on the way to my grumpy Friday ..... I woke up ..... HAPPY.

In fact I woke up raring to go. Excited to get my day underway and see what I could see. Whatever could have happened while I slept? Apparently I had one of those nighttime epiphenies you've heard tell of. Never heard tell of them? Oh, I thought it was just me. Anyway. I had one. Like a dream, I don't know what it was, but hey, it can't be bad if I wake up with a renewed sense of energy, optimism and enthusiasm, right? RIGHT!

So when I got underway today I made some decisions. I decided not to rush. I decided I would take a deep breath whenever I got the urge to get angry and snarl or growl at the slow people, the cell-phone fanatics, the huddled masses of shoppers and commuters blocking the sidewalk, the escalator hogs who jump to the head of the line. I decided to smile at people. I always say please and thank you, but I decided to say it with feeling and a smile. I decided to indulge my creative, enthusiastic, immature self and bought construction paper and crayons and pretty notebooks from the pre-teen back to school section at KMart and now have lovely notebooks with pretty horses pictured on them, a 96 color selection box of Crayola crayons and some horsey folders to keep my soon-to-be-created drawings in.

I decided I was going to stop obsessing about the bad and focus on the good. Breathe a little deeper, smile a little more, be nicer, embrace youthful energy, stop worrying so much and live a kinder, gentler life. Being kinder and gentler to myself, I mean. I'm going to stop feeling guilty because I can't be all things to all people, can't finish every task in one day, can't always be happy or smart or kind and productive. I'm going to give myself the freedom to relax and let it "be" every once in a while. To forgive myself for being imperfect. To sometimes just be lazy and laid-back and do something with no value, for no reason, like sit and stare at the sky and watch the clouds roll by.

And you know what? When I decided to do this .... when I focused on being unfocused .... all of a sudden, the creative juices started flowing. Ideas, thoughts, words, images .... without having to fight their way through the morass of expectations, anticipations, responsibilities, chores, burdens and cares and woes ... came pouring forth.

And in this vein, I'm going to burst forth myself, into my day, into my future, embracing my creative side, my playful side, my gentle side, my lazy side, my whimsical side, and my loving side.

Hey, I've got a great idea! Why don't you give it a shot? Try an experiment, something new. Something that makes you feel good, instead of bad. Happy instead of sad. Relaxed instead of stressed. Fulfilled instead of frustrated.

And toward that end, here are some ideas you might want to try:

Pursue a good time
Laugh out loud
Compliment a stranger
Don't rush
Hunt for miracles
Forgive a hurt
Strive
Enjoy a creative moment
Live with wonder
Learn something new
Embrace yourself
Believe in goodness
Do something nice without telling anyone
Give a gift of love
Be brave
Recycle - give the Earth a hug
Take a nap
Remember your dreams
Think young
Breathe deeply
Look up
Smile at a child
Feel good
Relish beauty
Indulge yourself
Risk
Make a happy list
Find out something
Explore
Read a poem
Help someone
Let your silly side out
Release guilt
Twirl around
Dance
Skip
Stroll
Walk barefoot
Play like a kid
Pretend
Do the right thing
Banish anger
Eat something delicious
Draw a picture
Sing a song
Relax
Stand still
Discover hope

Summertime - and the writing is -

I am one of those people who need pressure to function. I need deadlines to force me to write on a punishing schedule. I need the threat of embarrassment to keep me in line.

So, here I am, taking a break from a session of nearly 20 pages of writing on a manuscript that I am going to be taking with me to the New Jersey Romance Writers Put Your Heart In A Book conference in October.

I signed up, pre-registered for my hotel and now I'm sweating, well, getting the book done, certainly, but also pitching, my wardrobe, and handling personal responsibilities that go along with heading away from home for 3 days.

But what I've noticed is that the camraderie, the excitement of pushing myself to be ready to pitch, to have my MS ready in the event anyone asks for it and to be prepared to make the most of the event, both meeting people, making contacts, and learning a bit more about the business - well, it is exhilarating.

What is it that moves you? What motivates you to write? What gets you over the writer's block hump, the drearies, past the pain that everyday life tends to dole out, usually just as we are approaching a pinnacle that requires our best efforts?

I heard from a friend who said that she had not been able to write since her father had passed away. How can you fight that? How can you convince yourself that something that seems, in the scheme of things, so frivolous, really deserves your attentions and focus and energies?

Hard to say.

Except, what I wanted to say to my friend but didn't have in mind yet, was that your Father would want you to move on. He wouldnt' want you to dwell on your sadness or wallow in your sorrow. He would want you to laugh at his jokes, remember his smiles and his hugs and remind yourself of the wisdom he'd shared, the comfort he'd offered and the example he provided. The example of how to be a good person, a productive person, to take what life dishes out and shoulder the burdens but never, never, give up your dreams.

Never stop smiling. Never stop moving.

Never stop dreaming.

For everyone who has lost someone, or is dealing with impending loss, or sorrow of a more nebulous kind. For everyone dealing with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that pemeate our days.

Carpe diem, my friends.

It's all we can do, after all.

Too Much Of A Good Thing

I spend a lot of time of diverse Yahoo Group loops listening to people debate "the rules" of writing romance, and writing, in general.

Now I have always been a good girl (no smart remarks from the peanut gallery, OK?) and tried to follow the rules in whatever venue I was participating. BUT, I have to say that in this case, that is not always a good thing.

The hue and the cry over dialogue tags, contracts, POV shifts, use of first person and third person in the same book, when the hero & heroine meet (and how, and when they have sex, or don't have sex, what kind of sex, using safe sex or not) and any number of other points, generally leaves me with the impression that most authors think strict adherence is the only way to write.

IMHO, Wrong.

If these people focused more on reading other writers .... and not just romance, but other genres, such as mysteries or fantasy ... they would see that very often these published authors do NOT always follow the rules. Some break them judiciously, some hack at them with creative machetes, all while cackling with glee.

The trick to breaking a rule is making it work for you. Do it for a reason. Doing it with the full knowledge of how it ought to be done, and then doing it your way to enhance your story, enhance your authorial voice, and, simply put, to be different.

If every author followed every rule absolutely, we would all sound the same and there would be little choice among books.

No two people speak exactly the same. No one you are likely to meet (in the USA, at least - I can't speak for the farther flung folk because I've never been farther flung) never uses contractions when they speak. So why would it be debated ad nauseum whether it is alright to write with contractions?

The hotly debated issue of dialogue tags, "he said; she said" being considered the ONLY acceptable ones (heaven forbid you use such tags as "growled", "whined", "pouted", etc. because, well, heavens, people don't growl!!! And pouting is not a vocal affect ... and so on and so forth.

Sure. There are ways to finess a lot of writing within the confines of the rules. Want to convey the speaker's emotional intent? Write it better. Add something that describes it without having to resort to a dialogue tag. Sure, I've got nothing but time!

Oh, hell, come on! Lighten up your grammar police types! You rigid rule adherents!

Have a little fun! And remember - if you are a good writer, with a unique voice and style - you CAN BREAK THE RULES and make them work for you rather than stifling you.

If you write in the box, that's how it will read. Learn how the box works, then tear it down. Or better yet, get yourself a lovely rectangular box, with a nice little parabola at the top ......

Get Smart. Write well. Let your voice ring out - be YOU. Then no one will notice if you break a rule here and there.

They'll be too busy flipping the pages, sighing with satisfaction, and Googling your name to find out when your next book comes out!

What's Sex Got To Do With It?

The tempestuous debate continues. When is too much sex, well, too much? In the romance game, this question has turned into a downright conflagration. RWR - the monthly publication for members (all paid up members, I might add, regardless of religious persuasion, political party, or sexual appetite!) a few months past published a number of letters blasting the authors of erotic romance and their work. The usual four letter words - smut, porn and their 5 letter kissin' cousins, filth and trash - were all bandied about with great fervor and indignation. The vitriol that was spewed was almost frightening in its ferocity. After all, here we all are, members of a community that is fairly universally considered to be trashy at best. Romance is laughed at, poked fun of, and used as the butt of numerous jokes. "Trashy summer reading" is a frequent headline at this time to year to, I kid you not, promote the books most likely to be bestsellers at the bookstore in the lazy, hazy days of summer. As though we all rush to the classics section at B&N come fall. Not.

An immediate hue and cry among the writers of the steamier sort of happily-ever-after romantic tale was raised. And ignored. The RWR declined to publish counter-offensives until the dialogue expanded across blogs, MySpace pages and Yahoo Group email loops. Finally, in a recent issue, a number of erudite and well-spoken, even-tempered responses from the members of the erotic romance community were published. In general they asked for equal consideration as genre romance authors. They reminded everyone that we, too, are members of a community that should band together to make use of our strength in numbers, rather than be belittling and divisive. And some of them expressed their own anger at being labeled writers of smut and porn. Sadly,the very next issue of RWR ran more condemnatory responses. Apparently the concept of live and let live is far from alive and well in the arena of romance writing.

Apparently, a certain group of authors feels that only the novels they choose to write and read, should be published at all, let alone reviewed or discussed in their publication. They bemoan the dearth of "their kind" of romances (which I interpret to be the sweet and genteel sort where anything of a romantic nature that escalates beyond a chaste kiss happens behind closed doors - at the very worst - or not at all, pending nuptials). Of course, since I, in my unending search for the steamiest, naughtiest romance novels I can find must continually paw through the novels such as those that make me yawn, I fail to see the validity of their statement.

Instead, what I see is a narrow-minded, censurious group of people who fail to see that freedom of speech means for everyone, regardless of what they choose to read. Just as I have no desire to watch reality TV, I would not demand that the shows not be produced. Exactly as I am disgusted by the unending news stories of degradation, exploitation, and immoral behavior (by which I mean the folks who brought us Enron, Blackwater, the mortgage scandal and so forth), yet I would refuse to demand their removal in favor of sweet, pleasant, pablum-esque reports. I don't give a fig for Paris Hilton or TomKat but don't boycott the Star and the Enquirer. I have a very bad taste in my mouth when listening to mysogynistic rap music. But don't call radio stations demanding they be banned from the radio.

Why is it, that as members of a group that is fighting for respect and an acknolwedgement that the overall genre of romance accounts for nearly half of all mass market sales, we cannot all acknowledge that, just as I have no intention of ever picking up an inspirational romance or a Christian romance, I will fight to the death the right of the women who create these stories to do just that, that I have the right to write the hottest, most graphic romances I choose. And not only to write them, but to sell them, advertise them, and talk about them.

I expect no less. If you refuse to acknoweldge my right to the same respect and the same opportunities to sell, market and promote, then you, my dear, are a hypocrite.

And by the way, I pay my dues to RWA just the same as you do. Equal time is my right as a member.

And are you going to replace the revenue that the RWR loses when they cease to accept advertising for all the smutty books you loathe? You know, Ellora's Cave, Berkely Heat, Avon Red, Loose ID, Liquid silver, NAL, Black Lace, Kensington Aphrodesia? I would hazard a guess - NOT.

Live and Let Live, girlfriend. Or be prepared to have your own genre excoriated next when someone, somewhere decides your books are, gulp, boring.

A Brainiac And Proud of It!

I witnessed a silly web debate today. Name calling, vitriol. That sort of thing. The problem was, the instigator was an idiot. Wrong in most every way and she should have kept quiet because in the end not only was her ignorance revealed, but she was shouted down by the folks who rallied behind the victim of her unpleasant attack.

I am a know-it-all. It's true. But as much as I hate it, I do, on occasion, find myself in the humbling position of having to eat crow and admit I was wr-wr-wr-wr-wrong. (Hateful word!).

And there are things I am woefully ignorant of. Economics. Past perfect tense. Calculus. 401 Ks. On the other hand, for someone who does not work in an industry that requires me to continue to learn, I do so with relish.

In recent days I have purchased books on etymology, mythology, the impact of the death rate during the Civil War on the evolution of the US, kinky sexual practices (Right, it is a dirty job, but someone has to do it!), Vincent Bugliosi's book on the entire canon of Kennedy assassination conspiracy theories, a biography of Shakespeare, and numerous books on World War II. And I stopped because my credit card balance was keeping me up nights.

I can't stop wondering about stuff. Curiosity is everpresent in my life. Every time I come across a question, I have to find the answer. If I read or hear about something I don't know about, I have to research it. And when I hear new things, and have learned something I didn't know, I consider my day a rousing success.

For example. Today I learned: If a snake bites you, it is "venomous". If you bite the snake, it is "poisonous". How cool is that?

As a romance writer, particularly one with an interest in history, I am constantly awed by how much there is to learn. Every question that is launched on a writer's site gets myriad answers. Many wrong. Some only partially correct. And there are always those that are filled with knowlege and learning and years of interest in the study of the subject at hand.

While there are arguments, and debates, and even the odd, huffy email exchange, what makes the experiences so amazing are the fact that these large groups of people are all interested in learning. Whether it is about the sexual habits of the Regency gentleman, or the mode of transportation in 1880 US, or the medieval clothing of a child, or a discussion of the food of the Vikings, the discussions are wild, wooly, fascinating and, in the end, I always learn something.

So if you are not interested in learning about parthenogenisis. If the history of the language of flowers in Victorian England bores you. If a study of the Manhattan Project and the development of the atom bomb is a yawn. If discovering the various uses of herbs is tedious to you. Farewell. Begone from my blog.

But if you go to bed glum that you have not had your quota of intelligent discussion. If you are bereft at not having mastered a new fact today. If you yearn to get just another factoid into your brain before you slumber...

Then hang around. I love smart people. And people who know that they will never be smart enough.

Let's hear it for the brainiacs. We are SO cool!

Naughty, Naughty!

This week I've taken two workshops on writing sex. One was fairly straightforward. Dare I say vanilla. The second one, not so much. Passionate Ink, the Romance Writers of America special interest chapter is all about pushing the envelope. Sex with the door wide open, if you will.

What strikes me most is that the ladies hosting both, though, have been so open and generous. It's a great community of women empowered enough to write what they enjoy reading. S-E-X.

Remember when Nancy Friday's books were carried around in brown paper bags? Or hidden on your parents' bookshelves away from the "innocent" kiddies? Or Kate Millett or Anais Nin or the Story of O?

Not that I ever found those on my parents' shelves. But then again, they had issues..

I think that it is so wonderful that women can be entertained by sex (and no, I don't mean laughing at that date who tried to convince you it would be sooooo much bigger once it was hard). Men have been getting their rocks off for centuries while women wore chastity belts and corsets (sure, NOW they're fun...) and were warned they had better "lie back and think of England" rather than enjoy sex.

Thanks to the romance industry, women started getting their dose of fictional sex in the late 70s. Everyone disses the bodice rippers but women have always fantasied about the brawny dude sweeping them off their feet, right? And then the books started getting a little bit spicier. Then hotter. Now they have erotica and erotica romance and we're off to the races. Now women can browse for sex in the romance section of the book store and trade books with unabashed enthusiasm.

I share my books with some friends and the guys sort of stand around looking puzzled. Maybe they didn't realize we might be having fun without them.

Ain't it cool?

Write, or Wrong?

I wish that I could be a full-time writer. I have ideas out the whazzoo. I can compose both on computer as well as the old-fashioned way. On paper. (I could probably carve it in stone, but typos are hellish). I write like a fiend and can get upwards of 4,000 words on a given day. But I can't write full time. I have a 9-5 day job (more like 9 - 7 day job, and let's not forget the commuting to and from). I have to earn a living. I have to pay the (continually increasing) bills. Why? Because creation doesn't pay well. Not even Mary and Joseph raked in the dough.

To those writers who can afford to write as their job, I offer a hearty, Bravo! And I ask that you always remember that you have reached the pinnacle and are enjoying the existence that so many of us aspire to.

I read blogs, emails, check loop postings. And I see the laments of people dealing with all the mundane details of getting by, and having to put their beloved writing aside.

I, like those other folks, don't have as much time as I want to write. But I'm fighting back. I'm using my commuting time. I'm using lunch hours (either to hit the library or to wait til my bosses are gone to lunch and then work at my own designs.). I have never been a white-glove kind of housekeeper, which is a good thing, because the dust bunnies are starting to form unions. I have set my priorities. Sure, my credit card companies would prefer that they were on the top of the list, but face it, they're not.

Today I had dozens of emails to answer (I am, apparently, physiologically incapable of saying no to any request to volunteer and so am doing things for various writing groups that keep me from, ironically, actually writing). I responded to announcements of various and sundry successes in the writing biz. I offered solace and support to writers suffering tough times. I participated in a few fun writing endeavors that won't help me in the immediate ways, but, actually, are great for generating enthusiasm, helping me just keep the words flowing, and in the end, make me a better writer.

I also spent a good hour on advice for a fellow author whose manuscript I have been reading and reviewing for several months, and which I offered to make suggested changes to when my comments were not clear. So that's another drain on what might have been my private writing time.

Recently a published author intimated that the writing community - a generous, supportive, friendly, funny, prolific bunch - are wastrels. Losers. Talking, not doing. And if you accept the guilt by association concept, that means I am a loser.

Since that day, I have ceased corresponding with someone I initially thought might become a good friend. But her success obviously has blinded her - or perhaps she is just lucky enough to have a shitload of money and free time with which to indulge her writing (unlike the rest of us)- to the fact that we all need to be loved. Liked. Encouraged. None of us can work, or create, in a vacume.

Maybe I could use my time to be writing and moving myself faster along the path to publication. Maybe I should conserve my creative juices for my own endeavors and let the rest of the writers flail about, succeed, or fail, on their own, without my input. Maybe the writing community of which I am a part can do without me (surely they can - only hubris would say they cannot) and I don't need to dedicate my enthusiasm and expertise to these various and sundry groups.

But the sense of spirit and community empowers me. It gives me heart when I hear of others getting a contest win, or a request by a publisher for a submission, or - thrill of thrills - making a sale. So, no matter how much longer it may take me to reach those milestones, no matter how much of my energy I dedicate to causes other than my own, I'm going to keep on keeping on. I'll share my "juice" and hope that the energy sent out by me over the internet to all the friends I've never met, will come back to me, like writing karma.

So, to the author who thumbed her nose at my community, to the few who have not taken me up on my contributions, well, nuts to you.

I'm here to stay. And when I get published, I'll know who to thank.

And it won't be you.

What I didn't do was write.

An Old Feminist Speaks Out

OK. So it is Martin Luther King day - at least the day we celebrate it. And I have been thinking about discrimination, racisim, sexism, religious persecution. You know, all that fun stuff. Man's inhumanity to man. And I've come to the sad conclusion that nothing much has changed. Oh, sure, there is a thin veneer of civility among the more urban areas. Not so much in the Red States, though, and even here in My Blue Heaven, New York City, there is enough discrimination that I fear we will never really change.

I've heard a party girl insist that the Bible claims homosexuals are "an abomination against the Lord" and should die. Having Googled the passage I think she referred to, I wanted to point out to the former Jehovah's witness turned serial fucker, that "sodomites and adulterers" might well include others - such as herself. Since the term "sodomy" has a lot of people puzzled (hello, it's not just knocking on the back door, folks, if you do the on-your-knees worshipping the lollipop bit, you're just as guilty. Then there is adultery. How many of our staunch family value proslyetizers fall into that category? Hey.,RUUUUUUUUDY!.

Beyond that I have watched African American's insult Hispanics. Men insult women. Folks of various religious persuasion diss another. I can't tell you how many "Accept Jesus or die" chain letters I've gotten on my office email system. What's up with that? We have a "discrimination and sensitivity" committee that doesn't put a stop to anything. At all. Not sexual harrassment, not job harrassment, not religious, sexual, racial. Nada. nothing.

As a woman who was raised int he 1960-1970 feminist heyday, I haven't seen much change. Women have gotten better jobs. They make some more money (but still not on a par with men), but even when they are running for the highest office in the land they are treated like a little housewife who's too big for her britches. So, she stood by her man when he went astray? Can we say Christian forgiveness? So she got a little teary on the campaign trail. I'd opt for teary over that sulfur smell I'm getting from some of those Red candidates. She's got a mind and she's used it, and for that she's pilloried as cold, sterile, or the unfortunate "B" word. Hell, the way things stand, a Queen "B" might be the only thing standing between this country and third world status. At least she's not trying to impress anyone with the size of her balls!

Far Flung Friends

A few odd years ago I was an actress. I lived in Manhattan and I had a wild group of acting friends with whom I acted ... wildly. When I packed my bags and climbed on the LIRR (no jet planes for me!) and returned to the old homestead, I gave up the dream of footlights and the roar of the crowd. What I hadn't expected was that my friends would give me up, in return. But of course, I'm always learning new things. Once I arrived home, my life was absorbed into the lives of others, for nigh unto 11 years. I catered, I curried, I fetched and toted. My grandmother passed away at 99, my baby brother was accepted into a group home for mentally retarded adult men and moved, and I was left alone with my Mother. My day job, which had initially offered me cerebral stimulation evolved into a static, moribund exercise that gave me no fulfillment or joy whatsoever. It was during a time of aching loneliness that I felt my urge to write resurface. I'd tried my hand at it in the late 70's, that time of Woodiwiss and Rogers and Small. But my creative energies were fed, instead, into performing, and I ceased even reading romance, instead filling my library with drama and theatre books. Once home, having abandoned, and been abandoned, by friends, I returned to my love of books of all other sorts, and romance - which had blossomed and matured and grown into a complex world of genres, was re-discovered. I attended the RWA nationals in 1996 or 97, and again in 2003. In 2001 I'd rejoined the New York City chapter on September 9. Fate stepped in and I never heard from them again. But my enjoyment of the 2003 convention led me back and I rejoined in 2005. In 2006 I was entreated to run for a Board position which, in my naivete, I did, assuming that as an unknown I would wallow in obscurity and be absolved of the responsibility. Not. I was an only-ran and here I sit before you the Secretary of the Chapter. But my involvement fomented an obsessive eagerness with all things RWA. And all things writerly. In June I joined the 6 on-line special interest chapters that appealed to me. This month I joined all the remaining chapters and have discovered what a wonderful world this counfounding internet can be!
From Alaska to Texas to Australia and New Zealand. New Jersey next door, and upstate mere miles away, I have gathered a group of friends that I have never met, but with whom I share the bliss of romance and writing. We kvetch, we cajole, we commisserate and complain. I've been seduced by Betty and her volunteering vigor. I've been swept away by Amber's enthusiasm. I've bowed to Maggie's entreaties and leapt into the fray with Carmen, and Vonna, and templarlady and JJ. Every day I rush to my emails to see all the news. I never fail to find another request to volunteer, and invariably I fold under the gentle pressure and the promise of comradeship and community. I enter contests when the entries are needed. I judge when there are no others. I'm the President of one chapter, an election committee member on another. I work on membership panels, and by-law committees, as a PR rep, and a member liaison. I help with workshops, and loop patrol and I offer up my knowledge whenever I'm asked. Whether public or private and with generosity and vigor, these ladies and gents have welcomed me into the cyber bosom of the community of romance authors. Not un-published, but pre-published. Not just published, but multiply published. Award winners, and still-striving, paranormal world builders and Christian storytellers. Easy to talk to, and quick to rile. Laughers and talkers. Defensive and defenders. Loving and caring and rowdy and stern. I have come to know a thousand people, and every day I await the emails that will introduce me to a thousand more. I read their work and they read mine. We laud one another and extol the virtues of love. We joke about Depp and we lust after Jackman. We are smart and funny and knowledgeable. We share, we donate, we support. But above all, we write.
These are my cyber friends. I don't know their voices, their sizes, their ages. I've never seen their homes, or shared coffee or margaritas. I do know their books. I've seen pictures on sites and I have heard tales of their lives. But despite the miles between us, the continents and countries, they are my friends. And they have been more true than the old friends that shared meals, and days, and gifts and space.

MYOB

Business. Even artists need to put on their businessman's hat if they want to do more than create in a vacuum. Writers are not exempt. Recent events in the world of popular fiction (i.e., Cassie Edwards' public trial on charges of plagiarism) and the furor and bruhaha that has ensued, have left me with the undeniable conclusion that too many writers have their heads in the sand. Are are just dumb, to be painfully blunt.

Millions (Ok. so maybe, just maybe, that is an exaggeration, but given the number of posts I personally have read on my few writers' loops, perhaps not) of writers are pondering, arguing, debating the issues of plagiarism, and the trickle down legal theories of copyright and copyright infringement.

Sadly, no one seems to have a clue. Not as to what they are, or even the fact that the two concepts are not just some quaint publishing tradition or practice, but that they are legal terms with very complex legal definitions.

If I write another response to an email post that says well, it wasn't so bad; after all, she didn't steal from another romance writer....or it's unfair because she stole from someone who makes a career and money off of their non-fiction books (?) .... or what are we supposed to do if we can't research?

Since when did research mean lift huge chunks of someone else's writing on a subject that you want to include in your book, plunk it into your writing and neglect to tell anyone that, whoops, no, you didn't really think I wrote that, did you, that's just research?

OK. Granted, I work at a law firm where we do publishing. But I knew a shitload more about this stuff even before I did. Because, well, it mattered to me as a writer to know WHAT THE FUCK I was getting myself into, business-wise.

If you DON'T know that plagiarism is not stealing ideas, or a plot, or a title, or a character's name (and if you try to steal Luke Skyewalker, Harry Potter, Glinda the Good Witch or Scarlett O'Hara, it just goes to show you're as dumb as a box of rocks, anyway). You can only steal an individual's expression of her ideas, or her expressed execution of her plot. And changing a few words won't mean you're not stealing. The law (surprise, surprise) isn't that easy to get around.

And as for copyright. You have a copyright when you write something. You can file with the copyright office and protect yourself further. You will always have the copyright in your book until you've been dead for 70 years and then who gives a rat's ass anyway. When they said "you can't take it with you", they meant copyrights too. Your publisher never owns your book. They own specific, pre-agreed upon rights in and to your book for a specific time frame and purposes that are outlined in the contract. Did you read it? Did you UNDERSTAND it? Bet you signed it anyway, didn't you, you dolt!

Get an agent. Get a laywer. Get a brain.

If you don't know what you're doing you are as bad as a car mechanic who doesn't know his ass from his exhaust pipe. And you wouldn't pay him, would you?

Writers study their craft (and it sounds just as bad as when actors say it) and they worry, endlessly, ceaselessly, about facts and details, comma placement, point of view, conflict, dialogue, storyboarding. But do they worry about copyright infringement or plagiarism? Apparently not.

And an awful lot of them don't seem to worry about marketing techniques, promotional tools, royalty calculations, business plans, or branding, either. They do worry about MySpace (how many friends do I have?), Blogging (today I'm going to post pictures and chat about my cat/dog/horse/birds/house/kids/DH) or website (ain't it purty?).

We're in a business, folks. Get with the program. Learn what you need to know. And then learn that. Learn about the law as it relates to writers and publishing. Know what you own, because if you don't how can you know what you are selling? Know how you are percieved (and Ms. Edwards' response that she didn't know she was supposed to credit someone when plopping chunks of their writing into her books and letting everyone assume she wrote it is stupid for three reasons: 1. She didn't apparently know that it was stealing; 2. She didn't know that giving someone credit for something that you stole doesn't absolve you of the theft; and 3. She didn't know that it was crappy reading! (The ultimate sin - according to most posts, the worst part of it was that what she stole was dull.)because perception can make or break you. Even if you're good (or BAD) at what you do. Just look at politics.

And if you have no problem with stealing, as long as it doesn't cost someone else money? If you don't have a problem stealing from an author who sweat the same blood and tears (or, rather, apparently more, since they didn't get lazy and steal from someone else) as long as they aren't a competitor of yours, well, maybe the legal definition of plagiarism isn't your biggest problem.

Maybe the definition of "ethical" is.

Go ahead. Look it up. I dare you.

Ethics, Please!

There's been a big bru-haha among the romance author loops following the accusation that Cassie Edwards committed plagiarism. OK, so I am not going to get into a debate about guilt or innocence. What I think is appalling is how little all the writers in my tiny little universe seem to know about what copyright is, what plagiarizing is, and what good manners are. What's up with that? Ideas are copyrighted. Titles are not copyrightable (but of course you're a boob if you think you can use "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" as the title of your book, even if it is about a shy man getting a date from an outcall service. But I digress.

Aren't we all writers because the creative impulse makes us want to share our particular, individual and unique view of the world with others? Where did it come to be that a writer wants to share the particular, individual and unique view of somebody else as their own? When I was in high school, I wore a great dress to my senior prom (unlike the one I wore when I was a sophomore and got asked to that senior prom, which dress resembled something like my grandmother's bathrobe). Anyway, my science teacher's (Mr. and Mrs. Schrager, where are you?) wife wife wore the same dress in a different color. Of course, we both looked great :) but we were mortified to be even that close in fashion. So why does someone not want to be the most unique writer they can be?

C'mon, folks. Let's not use I was too busy; I was too stressed; I was trying to share a wealth of knowledge with the unwashed tribes as the excuse for sloppy writing. If you are going to need to research historical data or other factual details for your writing, distill it down and put it in your own words. Otherwise not only are you a sneaky cuss, but it will sound utterly wrong in the middle of your story!

If you don't know the law, learn in. You know how the cop that pulled you over didn't buy it when you said "I didn't see the stop sign, officer?". Well the writing community doesn't swallow it either when you say you didn't realize you'd plunked a few dozen paragraphs of someone else's writing into the middle of your book.

And the quote of the day: You can fool some of the people, some of the time, but you can never fool all of the people all of the time.

You roll the dice and you takes your chances.

My Inaugural Blog

Good evening. Welcome to my blog, and I hope that you will all have patience with me as I learn about the wonderful world of blogging. I am looking forward to meeting all of my visitors, and sharing my thoughts, goals, dreams. I am a writer, a creator, a word magician and I live to fashion worlds, design lives, and in the end, entertain. I have always craved the written word. From a childhood with The Wizard of Oz, to an adolescance with The Catcher In The Rye, and onwards to an adulthood filled with the mystery of literature, be it the romance of Nora Roberts to the paranormal world of Laurell K. Hamilton, and onwards to the magic of A. S. Byatt.

I have strong opinions. And I share them freely. So be advised.

Today, I am pondering the majesty of Winston Churchill's ability to battle a demon in human form, to bring his nation to victory ... often by the mere power of his words ... and to record the events to which he was witness with a power that has not been surpassed since.

Contemplate the life of a man who was a political hasbeen on the eve of war. 1939 when the "peace in our time" proclamation from Neville Chamberlain filled the headlines. Winston waited in the wings. And when the moment arrived, he stepped forward and took his place in history.

And the quote for the day, fittingly, will be his: Never, never, never quit.

Good night, all. Dream gloriously.