Writing Romance in the Big Apple!

Where Do You Belong?

2011-04-06T12:55:00.000-07:00

I’m prompted to ask – based on my own memberships, as well as recent posts on an RWA chapter loop – what other writing organizations do you belong to outside of RWA and its regional chapters and special interest groups (which are very valuable on their own)?

My personal opinion is that these groups are a vital link between an author and the professional and writing community. (Of course, it is also fairly true that they are only as valuable as you make them – you have to participate to get the most benefit out of a membership.) But the problem is, any organization can become too insular, can pose too singular a focus, and can narrow the opportunity for networking to a particular niche, as well as the unfortunate problem of providing a pipeline through which incorrect or biased information ends up being presented as ‘fact’ or ‘truth’.

If you are an author of a genre of which there are other organizations, for example – mystery/suspense/thriller: There is Mystery Writers of America (they award the Edgar Award), Sisters in Crime, and Thriller Writers of America. For urban fantasy, paranormal and fantasy or sci-fi authors, there is Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. And there is also the Horror Writers Association for the ghoulishly inclined. And the Western Writers of America (home of the Spur Award). The Historical Novel Society group is out there as well. And as an author of erotica and erotic romance, color me thrilled to discover the Erotic Authors Association (which sponsors its own conference), and the Erotic Readers & Writers Association, both of which act as advocates for this most misunderstood genre of fiction. I expect there are numerous others, say, for authors of the Christian genre, for example. And there are smaller, more specific and less prominent groups, too.

There are also groups specific to certain elements in the publishing/writing community, like EPIC (The Electronically Published Internet Coalition). Their award, the EPPIE is gaining in prominence, by virtue of the proliferation and popularity of digital books.

And there are other general writing organizations, like Liberty States Fiction Writers in New Jersey – formed to be inclusive, rather than exclusive, for writers of every format and genre. And there are groups like The Authors Guild, which is a major force in the publishing industry. And Novelists, Inc. The Writers Guild for playwrights and screenwriters, which author Leanna Renee Heiber will be eligible for, based on her writing of the book for the play of "The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker", at least I think so – it may be that the WGA requires 2 scripts?

Certainly, admittance regulations vary and a number of these groups are not even open to unpubbed folk at all (MWA does have affiliate/associate level members, for example, as does EPIC, if I recall correctly).

If you are not a member of a group outside of RWA, you might want to consider broadening your membership horizons. You will be opening yourself to differing philosophies, a different pool of contacts and information, and a new group of people and genres and levels of success. The networking opportunities are limitless, and you can guarantee that you are not hearing a singular perspective, or a narrow take on a given subject. Even though we are, generally, “romance authors”, the growth of blended genres, and the evolution of what a romance novel is, makes these other organizations vastly helpful because of these different perspectives, attitudes and so forth. (If you don’t believe me, research the different groups some popular authors we consider romance authors are members of – like romantic suspense authors and paranormal authors. They cross-over because their books do.)

What other organizations do you belong to?

Erotic Epiphanies

2010-09-01T09:47:00.000-07:00

I write hot stories. Steamy, spicy, romance. Be it an urban fantasy with my smart-mouthed, spanking-obsessed, kick-ass heroine Jinx, or homicide detective Anne Graham, my paranormal time-traveler and surprised submissive, or the heroine of my contemporary erotic romance, erotic photographer and lusty hedonist, Chloe, my heroines are fast girls. And they all agree, the best sex is kinky sex. “Whatever blows your skirt up – in bed and out,” as Jinx comments in Between A Rock & A Bad Place.

When I started writing romance my sex scenes were typical and mainstream. Problem was, my feisty fast girls had minds of their own. “We want more sex! Hotter sex!”. So, I gave ‘em what they asked for.

Then the greedy things started up again. “We want our sex wild and kinky!” They wanted to bend over and take it rough. Be ordered to their knees, or indulge in the delights of being the filling in a man sandwich.

Who was I to argue with desire?

So, my heroines got hornier, and wilder, and my writing progressed apace, until now the wenches are purely out of control.

Which is why I now write erotic romance. My fast girls feed their passions in myriad ways and throughout different genres. In fact, it turned out the only way I could keep up with their voracious appetites was to broaden my own reading horizons.

Hence my bookshelf today displays many fiction, and non-fiction titles alike, that extol the pleasures of extreme sex. There is a plethora of erotic romance titles, BDSM “lifestyle” guides, submissives’ memoirs and, more and more, erotica anthologies. While a great erotic novel or erotic romance is a thing of beauty, the beauty of an anthology is that you can sample a smorgasbord of sexual delights.

I personally love the collections published by Cleis Press. There’s something for every fast girl in their offerings, even, as luck would have it, a new release - an entire book filled with stories for, and about (and appropriately titled): FAST GIRLS.

This new release is edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, who headlines many of these anthologies, be they about spanking, oral sex, or female submission. What’s most wonderful is that this jam-packed anthology runs the gamut. I read them all. Twice. I found myself titillated, amused, and, definitely turned on. Sometimes unexpectedly.

Staunch hetero that I am, I do not often particularly enjoy F/F erotic fiction. Thus I found myself surprisingly aroused by the talented Tristan Taormino’s “Winter, Summer”, wherein a young woman yearns to be pushed to the breaking point, and gets her wish at the hands of a dominant and discerning woman. Her intense experience is beautifully encapsulated by these lines: “My heart races; I can’t catch my breath. I can’t catch hold of my emotions; I’m breaking apart into messy little pieces. But her arms are wrapped around me, and I am somewhere safe.”

Another surprise was my enjoyment of the straightforward, sexy hot stories like “Temptation” by Kayla Perrin and Lolita Lopez’ “Fireworks”, which eschew kink, yet seduced me with their rich human portraits of men and women seeking not only sexual satisfaction but emotional connection.

Any idea that erotica can’t be humorous is deftly countered by several amusing tales in FAST GIRLS. The expression we are all familiar with about star-f*cking is embodied wonderfully in “Waxing Eloquent” (Donna George Storey), and a wry take on porn is the premise of the short, but hot and sweet, “Five-Minute Porn Star” by Jacqueline Applebee.

For critics of erotica, I challenge you to read two of the poignant, though very different stories in this collection, and not be impressed by the complexity. “Waiting for Beethoven” is Susie Hara’s truly lyrical symphony of art, music and sex. It was so filled with yearning, and vulnerability and atmosphere that I have re-read it several times simply to appreciate the layers.

Very different, but no less effecting, is the last story in the book, Tenille Brown’s rough, raunchy and ultimately romantic “Speed Bumps”. The age of the characters and their experience with mortality is integral to Sunny and Trip’s story of a couple facing a new crossroads in their kinky, and loving, relationship. It was one of my favorites.

Anyone who reads erotica will be familiar with the stories that can make a reader uncomfortable, often due to the subject matter, or because of a kink or fetish that makes you squirm, and not always in a good way. But by willing suspension of my boundaries, I thoroughly enjoyed Angela Caperton’s dark and decadent story of the first-time call girl in “Playing the Market” wherein the economic downturn leads a woman to extremes as she tries to stay afloat. In the course of the rich story (with its surprise ending) she discovers she didn’t leave her work ethic on the trading floor.

Thought it bordered on the disturbing, I was still stunned by the power of desire and submission darkly rendered in Ms. Bussel’s own “Whore Complex”. This level of sado-masochism takes a deft hand to master in fiction (without leaving a reader wondering if perhaps psychiatric help is not required by one or both parties). There was humor, longing, defiance, and, ultimately, satisfaction, as Rachel describes: “ . . . because I’d learned from Adrian that good whores don’t just learn from their mistakes, they also get rewarded for them.”. “Whore Complex” is a great example of how effective it can be when the psychological complexity of submission is perfectly presented.

Once again, to my surprise, the darkest piece in the anthology was both the edgiest and yet, one of my favorites. I would guess that knife play pushes the envelope for anyone other than one who enjoys it (and I freely admit, I'm a baby when it comes to knives). But “Lessons, Slow and Painful”, with its fabulous juxtaposition of one woman’s daily mundane experiences with the climax of her deep submission to her lover, including an intoxicating blend of submission, humiliation and scarification, just wowed me.

In the end, it is Tess Danesi’s final words in “Lessons” that sum up, for me, the level of dedication a fast girl brings to her quest for sexual and emotional fulfillment: “I shudder as I think that I allowed him to do this to me. No one but Dar could ever drive me to and make me desire such extremes. Dropping the mirror, he lifts me in his strong arms, carefully avoiding the cuts on my back and playfully tosses me on my bed . . . For an instant, the stinging in my lower back reminds me that I’m bleeding . . . then his lips, full, soft and gentle, meet my lips. His kiss makes the world go away. His kiss makes it all go away.”

There you have it. A one-volume course in what fast girls want. And they want a lot. And they take it, on their terms.

For anyone unfamiliar with erotica, FAST GIRLS is a terrific place to start. As romance authors you will find a wealth of feminine desire and motivation, as well as incredible sex writing. As erotica authors you’ll be reading some of the mistresses of the genre. This is a group of stories filled with humor, friendship, love, romance, surprise, beauty, pain, and, of course, sex. Afraid you’ll be turned off? Trust me – you never know what turns you on until you give it a try. You will be very surprised just how powerful great erotica can be.

This kinky fast girl wants to make sure to point out to the FCC or anyone else, that while the copy of FAST GIRLS was provided to me free of charge, there was no guarantee made of a review, either good, or bad, of the contents, and if you don’t believe I honestly presented these brief story reviews of my own free will, feel free to come and check out my bookcase where I have numerous other titles by R. K. Bussel and Cleis Press, which I happily purchased, including Bottoms Up, Orgasmic, Tasting Him, Please, Sir, Yes Sir, and many more.

Climb Every Mountain

2010-01-01T11:52:00.000-08:00

"Climb every mountain,
Ford every stream.
Follow every rainbow,
Til you find your dream."

The song "Climb Every Mountain", music by Richard Rodgers and Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II from their epic musical production, "The Sound of Music", is one of the greatest tributes to striving for one's dreams that has ever been written. As a child I listened to the character sing that song from the film, day after day. As a vocal student that song was in my repertoire for building my voice.

Now, as a writer, recalling the wonderful lyrics and the soaring emotion of the song I embrace the sentiment, yet again.

2009 was a year when achieving my dream seemed all but impossible. Work and familial responsibilities, as well as the additional ones that I had only myself to blame for, including the many volunteer jobs I'd taken on for the entire year, had proven not only time-consuming, but energy draining and emotionally frustrating. Every time I turned around, hoping to have carved out some time and energy for my own writing efforts, I was thwarted by some new snag, snafu or deadline. No matter how hard I tried, I ended up sucked dry of any creative juices. I greatly feared that all of the challenges I had set myself at the beginning of the year were going to be universally unmet. I was writing less than the year before rather than more. I felt as though I had fewer ideas, and even less structure.

In October, however, my Mother told me that what she wanted for Christmas was a complete novel (her motive was blatant - to get me to for-heaven's sake FINISH SOMETHING). Throughout the year whenever I'd mentioned someone else, she'd respond with something along the lines of "but they finished their book" or "if you'd stop spending so much time volunteering, maybe you'd get something written". For this project she'd even given it some additional thought as to how I might be successful. She suggested I write about "something you know" - and set the plot in an entertainment law firm in NYC. Because I work in one. But it wasn't a concept that intrigued me and in the end I couldn't muster up the enthusiasm. Never at a loss for plots, I was utterly barren. So, I tried a second idea, one that had been rolling around in my unfulfilled brain for a while - a contemporary romance along the lines of a Blaze novel. Again, after 50 pages, I just couldn't ignite the spark.

I was pondering the potential of failure after a month of fits and starts. I got a nasty cold in late October, serious enough to miss a few days of work. Then I was barely recovered when I came down with a second respiratory infection. Again I was exhausted, drained and out of work for a couple of days. Little if any writing got done. In fact, I didn't even have the wherewithall to THINK about the project. Since I didn't even have an idea, yet, that meant things were looking grim.

Then on December 1, I had the brainstorm. One of my favorite projects - one I started 2 years ago, but after 2 well-received scenes (one was a finalist in an RWA contest), it had fallen by the wayside. See, my biggest problem has never been a lack of ideas, or an inability to get started. It's been my absolutely universal failure to keep GOING once I get a good idea. So I've got probably hundreds of beginnings and only one single so-so middle. And one sort-of ending!

But on 12/1, I decided the novel, then called DEAD MAN TALKING, would be IT. The one I liked, the plot I'd thought a great deal about, and a genre I'm particularly interested in (urban fantasy). (And because of my procrastination I was further frustrated to discover an urban fantasy in B&N the other day titled - you guessed it - DEAD MAN TALKING - so the new working title of my book is BLACK MAGIC WOMAN.)

So the writing began on the morning of 12/2. The night before I'd dug up my past segments, all my notes, and I tore into the project on December 2nd at 6:00 AM, feeling thrilled, motivated and determined. The writing kept going along fine. I'd done about 50 more pages between 12/2 and 12/10. Not nearly enough, but I was on a roll.

Then I got sick again. Once more I was out of work and in incredible pain from a sinus infection. Four days of nothing but sleep and barely a single word put on the page. A visit to the Doctor, antibiotics, and a slew of other remedies and again I was clawing my way back to health. I was convinced I'd still be able to make my goal once I started healing.

Then I was called on the carpet at work totally out of the blue. Without going into the distressing details, suffice it to say that I was devastated. I didn't lose my job, but I was humiliated and demoralized by what I had to admit was some legitimate criticism.

I went into an incredible funk that lasted a week. I tried to toil away and managed to get a few pages written, but I was still under 100 pages. But things have a way of going on, and so did I.

Meanwhile, I was still trying to wrap up an RWA chapter contest responsibility and a second RWA chapter Board election. But even in my dreams, I followed my heroine, giving her great new friends and comrades in arms, as well as terrific new battles and challenges.

Then a week after the work upheaval came a 2nd one. This one ended up putting me square in the middle of a huge amount of unforeseen work at a time when I had thought I'd have a far easier go of it. Instead of being able to use my lunch hours to write, and to leave on time and dedicate entire evenings to my growing novel, for the entire week before Christmas I worked through every lunch and worked until 7:00, which after my commute, got me home at 9:00, drained and almost unable to think, much less write.

And it was, of course, Christmas. Shopping, cleaning, decorating and running the additional errands the holiday engendered, including finding a Christmas tree and presents for my brother, and making up a menu and buying the food in advance because I'd be getting home too late on Christmas Eve.

And then we had 2 feet of snow. I was shoveling for days and dragging my debilitated ass to work every day in frigid weather that made me even more depressed.

I'd stopped reading emails. I'd abandoned my own Yahoo group. I was skipping meals, avoiding the newspapers and the news and I wasn't reading any books or magazines or watching even the minimal TV I usually did. But I was writing. Doggedly writing. As my Mother often says, "bloody but unbowed", I continued putting down the words.

It seemed like the last 2 months of the year were all of the frustrations rolled up into one giant ball and multiplied and then condensed and repeated the last two weeks of the year.

But I kept on fighting the good fight. I kept writing. And lo and behold it began to get easier. I got past the anticipated half-way point. I forged ahead. Dialogue was flowing. Adversaries were gelling. And from 12/20 to 12/24, I wrote like a madwoman.

I didn't make it.

On December 24th I printed out the 200 pages I'd managed to complete and do a quick once-through edit for typos. I packaged it up and gave it to my Mother as half of her Christmas present. I swore to her I'd have it finished for New Year's.

It was a miserable sting when she mentioned to a visiting relative that I'd given her a book I'd written for Christmas. The relative expressed an annoying level of surprise, and Mom clarified that it was only half a book. The automatic response that clearly conveyed the expectation that, of course, that explained it. I'd never really finish an actual book! It was a miserable, bitter moment. But it also fueled an anger that acted as a prod to keep me going.

After the insane four days that was the Christmas holiday, despite having a three-day weekend, I barely had a minute to myself. Nevertheless, after everyone had gone to bed in the evenings, and in the mornings before they woke up, beginning on December 25th, I got back to my writing.

Once back at work, every night, every morning, lunch hours, my AM and PM train rides and bus commutes were one long writing jag. I was up one day at 5:30 when plot developments wouldn't let me sleep. I was zipping through, operating on a "pantster" mindset: not stopping to double-check consistencies or re-work scenes that seemed they might be out of order. Instead, I just kept plugging away.

Because by this point it was all about the finish line. I'd never finished a fully-complete novel in first draft form. I'd finished one that had huge gaps throughout the second half which honestly couldn't be considered a "complete" first draft. And it was both my Mother's disappointment as well as my own failure to meet the challenge - the one challenge of 2009 that I had had the highest hopes for all year long - that kept me slogging away.

The ache in my elbows got worse. The ache in my knees from awkwardly sitting with my laptop got worse. I wrote longhand, in pencil, on the train and bus and during lunches and I had to re-type that, as well. My hands got to the point where they kept cramping throughout the day.

I was determined. But I had a long way to go. One evening - December 27th, I think - when I had to rest my hands, I slathered my knees, elbows and back with Ben Gay and I took out an hour and a half to watch an American Masters special on Channel 13 about Louisa May Alcott. And it acted as a great inspiration. I learned of her monstrous output, rejection, loneliness, and how she managed it despite illness, family burdens and deaths, and doing work that she despised. After it was over, at 10:30 PM, I went back to my laptop keyboard.

The year was winding down. I was looking forward to the auspicious blue moon - the second full moon of December - on December 31st. New Year's Eve. It seemed a great portent. I was also eagerly anticipating the end of my many RWA responsibilities and the start of a new year in which I was going to dedicate myself 100% to my own writing. Unlike every other year in recent memory, I did not begin writing my lengthy list of goals and resolutions. Because every waking second was dedicated to meeting the challenge of finishing this book. My first book.

The last couple of days I got so frustrated I was on the verge of tears all the time. I started popping aspirin for the joint pain. I was carrying multiple print-outs of different sections back and forth to work and trying to remember where I'd left off when I didn't have them with me, which only added to the weight - and the pain from - my backpack and bag.

But I typed. And typed. And typed. I slept less several nights not going to bed until midnight. I woke earlier. I stopped doing any chores. My ensembles weren't matching very well. Of course, given my recent problems at work I still had to focus constantly on being responsive to every need and making sure that every task was completed - timely and perfectly. Huge word-processing jobs at the office added to the pain. Walking on ice and snow made my back hurt. And New Year's Eve loomed, meaning I had to rush home and gather up my brother and make our traditional New Year's Eve party.

I was still writing as fast as I could. But I was reaching the "black moment" and a climactic battle of good versus evil and I hadn't the foggiest idea how I wanted it to play out. I played hookey for another few hours to go out on Tuesday, December 29th, to have dinner with my friend Lis (who, yes, HAS a finished - and soon to be published - novel). I was at 64,000 words but I was fast approaching a vegetative burn-out. Poised on the brink of the very last part of the book I had to take a momentary breather. And I was hungry.

We talked about inconsequential things. I had a couple too many beers. I wrote on the train on the way home, and after I got home until 12:30, but then woke up Wednesday morning late. With a headache. But I had also awakened with a way to end the book. I was running late, but the minute I got on the train I started writing (pencil and paper - using up 10 pencils, wearing them down to the nub). And I was zooming. Flying. For the first and only time I actually thought I might - MIGHT - just do it.

I kept writing during lunch and at the end of the day, when all of my bosses had left, I hit the keyboard. And I wrote until after 8:00 PM, despite exhaustion and knowing I wasn't going to get home until 10:00 PM at the rate I was going.

And at 8:03 I typed "The End". On page 348. After 72,493 words.

I was done. I had finished my very first complete novel.

I had not failed. Despite a final stretch that was almost inconceivably disasterous, on every single front, I had DONE IT!

I printed out pages 221 - 348. I proofed them on the train and in a hot bath (not easy to do) where I tried to soothe my back and knees. I made some corrections, tweaked a few things here and there and discovered I had 1 character with 2 different names.

On December 31, 2009, after my office closed at 2:00 PM, I printed out the second half of BLACK MAGIC WOMAN for my Mother (I'd put the first in a notebook with a cover sleeve and even created a "cover" for my book and title pages, so I did the same with the second half.)

Then I printed out a copy of the entire thing for me. My first complete novel. I lugged both home with me and after going to pick up my brother at his group home, stopping for champagne at the liquor store, and returning home and getting the party ready, I handed my Mother the second installment.

It was December 31st, 6:30 PM.

And today, January 1, 2010, it is sitting here beside me as I get started on the revisions.

Because now I have a new goal. And this time, I can do it. Now I know that I can - and will - climb that mountain. And find that dream.

Stop Word Abuse Now!

2009-11-14T08:53:00.000-08:00

From the Sunday New York Times Editorial Section the following ("A Return To American Justice"): "Experience shows that federal courts are capable of handling high-profile terrorism trials without comprising legitimate secrets..."

It's obvious the word is intended to be "compromising". Typo? Editorial oversight? Or a clear case of WORD ABUSE!

Peak. Peek. Pique. Anyone. Any one. Everyone. Every one. A lot. Alot. All right. Alright. Rein. Rain. Reign. Threw. Through. Weather. Whether. Except. Accept. Led. Lead. Peace. Piece. Council. Counsel. Dual. Duel. Principle. Principal. Capital. Capitol. Cite. Site. Sight. Raise. Raze.

The list goes on and on. I must ask: What's up with the prevalence of writing errors concerning word use? It is not just about spelling, really (all right, it is in some cases like "a lot" and "all right" - that's more of a usage problem, too). It's about not knowing the difference between one word and another, when they mean utterly different things. I have to say that I'm flummoxed as to why a writer wouldn't be absolutely zealous about mastering vocabulary which is, essentially, their lone tool for storytelling and communication. I'm not even talking about the really weird words, the utterly unseen (scene/seen) examples that crop up only in academic texts or the classics (adds or adze - the latter being an ax-like tool, or all or awl - a pointed scriber); though airy and aerie do come up, now that I mention it!

I have certainly found myself typing the wrong word when in the throes of a creative fervor because my fingers type faster than my eyes read. And since spell check won't catch them and grammar check is a pain in my tush, if I'm not careful that "throes" might come out "throws". Imagine, if you will, an editor perusing your steamy love scene which reads: "while in the throws of orgasm she moaned" - What? You're not going for laughs there? (you're/your; its/it's - these being a couple of the grammatical faux pas that far too frequently rear their ugly heads).

Correct: "If everyone in the hot dog eating contest ate every one of their hot dogs, how do they know who won?"

Not so much: "If everyone in the hot dog eating contest ate everyone of their hot dogs, how do they know whom was the winner?"

Homonyms - words that sound alike, but are spelled differently and have different meanings. (Or almost sound alike in some cases.) Advice. Advise. Censure. Censor. Chose. Choose. Assure. Ensure. Insure. Clothes. Cloths. Emminent. Imminent. Alter. Altar. Band. Banned. Who's. Whose. Heel. Heal. And one of my favorites: Want and wont. (That crops up a lot in historical romances.)

I'm coming across these errors more and more as I read unpublished authors' work on blogs, posted excerpts (not excepts, as I've seen...), critique groups and in contests (and on some sad occasions, published work - what's up with those copy editors? In a published novel in the first paragraph I came across this: "She waved her hand imperviously at the waiter." I called the publisher - St. Martin's for full-disclosure - and reported the typo. My complaint was met with a fairly vague, "Oh" from the editorial assistant to whom I spoke). I wonder if these authors are making just typing errors (obviously understandable) that they subsequently don't catch (less understandable) - and which their CPs don't catch either - or if there is actually a growing population of people whose vocabulary skills are simply that piss poor? Is it because they don't read enough? I find that hard to believe, frankly, because the authors of romance that I know read voraciously. Don't focus? Perhaps it is simple carelessness. I hate to think it is a purely blatant lack of concern with the quality of work product.

Regardless, I mark up entries in contests, and I critique people's excerpts and constantly point out these errors. And if I, as a completely disinterested party, catch them, you can be sure editors and agents are catching them (with the possible exception of the above-referenced editorial assistant). And I would hazard a guess that there's nothing more apt to turn off an editor or agent than a submission filled with:

"I want everyone of you to line up for inspection."

or "As is my want, I tumbled the chit without a second thought."

or, "Hand me the reigns, Jeeves and I'll run the fox to ground."

"Are you alright?" (OK, this word, and alot are used so frequently - albeit incorrectly - that they are becoming accepted spellings and usages. I'm not happy about this. I don't see the value with rewarding sloppiness, vocabularily speaking, by allowing the words to become acceptable just to save everyone the trouble of figuring out the correct choice of spelling or usage. Let's raise the standards, not allow them to sink to the lowest common denominator, OK? (Or is that: Okay?)

I'm not going to go into the various other issues: Who, whom, therefore, therefor, flammable, inflammable, and heaven save me from a comma debate.

But tangentially, there is also that category unto itself - malapropisms.

The legacy of Richard Sheridan's Mrs. Malaprop, these are the wacky misrenderings of classic sayings that can stop a reader in her tracks when you spot the incongruous beast in the midst of a romance. "It's a doggy doggy world" was a favorite my Mother always remembered, quoted from a young neighbor many, many years ago. Dan Quayle, noted malaprop: "Republicans understand the importance of bondage between mother and child." And that other famous gent, Archie Bunker: "Thou shalt not bear falsies against thy neighbor." From The Sopranos: "There's no stigmata connected with going to a shrink." And while his words were not legitimate malaprops, there's the Master of Mangle himself, Yogi Berra - "It's deja vous all over again!" and "Nobody goes there anymore, it's too crowded."

I've heard numerous malapropisms over the years. "He's really up a creek with a paddle." (which reminds me - creak and creek). "I don't know what I'd do if I were under your shoes!", "Boy, he's a real mover and a shaker-he doesn't let any hair grow under his feet." But I must bestow the ignominious first prize to: "Battle down the hatchets!"

A writer's world is a world of words. They will make you able to speak sublimely to your readers, or, if you aren't careful, instead have those poor souls stumbling awkwardly through your prose. I beg of you - check before you print! Consult a dictionary or thesaurus before you commit those precious and INCORRECT words to paper. Even go so far as to read the dictionary and study those words like the vital tool they are. Give yourself the absolute best chance to shine. Don't expect editors will find and fix your mistakes. Aim for perfection before you send them out to that editor or agent, who'll take one look and roll their eyes (notice I did not say 'role') and toss your submission into the "reject" pile.

Because the shock might just make you prostate ... WHOOPS, I meant, PROSTRATE with grief.

Publishing Waits for No Writer

2009-10-27T10:29:00.000-07:00

My name is Lise. And I'm a Procrastinator. Would that there was a 12 step program for types such as myself. Because no matter the urging, nudging, pushing, shoving, or outright bellowing that I am subjected to from well-meaning friends and relatives to get off my sorry tush and finish a writing project (and we mean finished - edited, polished, spic and span FINISHED) and send it out, I have not.

And for the 2nd time I am suffering a bout of gnashing, wailing, grimacing and grousing over being beaten to the literary punch.

In 2006 I completed a (very, very rough) first draft of a time-travel romantic thriller of a novel about Jack the Ripper. Never polished it or completed it in such a form as could be submitted (why? I get sidetracked by "new" and "exciting" projects, for one thing). But regardless, about a week or two after the 2006 NaNoWriMo challenge ended, I was in a bookstore and lo and behold, there was a TIME TRAVEL NOVEL ABOUT JACK THE RIPPER.

Granted, the premise was utterly different (and no, you cannot "steal" an idea since they are not protected by copyright) and it wasn't a romantic sort of novel (It was called, BTW, "Jack Knife"). It was a sci-fi time travelers setting history right rather than an "accidental" traveler trying to change history but failing - though she changes the outcome of something in the future. And it wasn't a romance like mine (lots of spice, and a quirky set of secondary characters leaving room for a sequel).

But there it was. A book on the shelf while mine was collected in a Barnes & Noble shopping bag. Color me disgusted. Could that have been why I put it aside? Maybe a part of the reason (if I'm not the first, why bother? Everyone will say I ripped off the idea!).

Meanwhile, I started another novel. It was planned to be an urban fantasy series with an accidental psychic who talks to ghosts. Snarky, some romantic entanglements and a whole slew of paranormal and supernatural characters. My planned first book was called "Dead Man Talking". I entered it in a couple of contests and actually got a third place in the RWA New York City Chapter's Love & Laughter contest. Did I finish it? Oh, silly girl!

I loved the plot. The characters were fun, and I had lots of research, ideas and chunks of writing from throughout the book. In fact I probably had a good 40,000 words. But done? Complete? Fini? Noooooo.

I did talk about it a lot, though (I'm looking at you - you know who you are). I shared the plot, the title, and my ideas and got wonderful feedback. Everyone thought it was going to be a great book!

Today, I'm in the bookstore (deja vu all over again?) and there on the shelf - a new paranormal by an established author ..... can you guess the title? Yep. "Dead Man Talking".

(And my MS? That's right, you guessed it: a Barnes & Noble shopping bag.)

Now, granted, this play on words is not particularly brilliant - it would come pretty easy if you thought about a ghost hunter novel title when there is a humorous bent.

But nevertheless, someone else now got there ahead of me.

And why? Because I PROCRASTINATED.

I failed to act when I had great stuff and energy and motivation. I got lazy, and despite the enthusiasm from others, let it slide. I sat around dreaming big dreams of publishing contracts, movie options and sequels and NEVER FINISHED THE FREAKING BOOK!

I've heard that some writers refuse to discuss current projects for fear they'll "jinx" it, or lose their enthusiasm if they talk about it too much. Others are obsessively worried that their ideas, titles, plots will be "stolen" by others and so stay mum about the details of projects.

Me? I just wait around until the great idea slips away and maybe takes root in someone else's mind. Or until someone else - as invariably happens, right? - comes up with the same or similar idea, plot, character or title.

So I have no one to blame but myself. Will this work as a kick in the butt to get me working? I sure hope so. We're approaching National Novel Writing Month 2009 - NaNoWriMo to the insiders - and it's the perfect time to put the cerebral pedal to the metal and get a project done.

Will I do it? There are some pretty intense folk rolling up their sleeves and getting ready to administer that kick in the butt if I don't.

Really, I'm serious, is there a Procrastinators Anonymous out there?

When The Play Can Be The Thing...

2009-06-12T07:44:00.001-07:00

I had a fairly standard education. Elementary School, High School, College. I took a few classes at The New School for Social Reasearch as a non-matriculated student. Mostly, though, I've learned what I've learned as an adult through all the different jobs I've had, the experiences I've gone through, and in large part via my creative endeavors.

As an actress and singer, I read voraciously in the connected fields. Biographies of writers, composers, singers and actors. I read hundreds of plays, from the Greeks to Shakespeare to Sam Shepard and Wendy Wasserstein. I read theatre history and theare production books as well as acting instruction manuals, and voice technique books.

Now as a writer, I am reading everything from craft titles on individual aspects of creative writing, to motivational guidebooks, prompt books, marketing and sales and submission how-tos and of course, dozens of romances, mysteries, thrillers, paranormals, and the oodles of research books and material that I use for creating compelling and complex stories.

So it comes as no surprise that I have a wealth of extremely variant information at my disposal. As I like to say, I'd be great on Jeopardy but otherwise my knowledge and $2.00 will get me on the subway. I am always tickled, however, when I discover one area of knowledge able to invest another area of endeavor with a little something extra.

I have found to my delight that my work as an actress has been extremely useful, dare I say vital, in my work as a writer. For one thing I focus on creating dialogue and characters via the methods I learned in the theatre. Since dramatic literature - plays - have no exposition or narrative, nothing but dialogue or spoken words (be they monologues or what have you), it is a great method for studying the creation of dialogue that is important, and that moves the plot and conveys details about the story and the characters, with minimal narration or excessive expository description that can slow a story down or bog it down in unnecessary stuff.

I also build my written characters just as I built the characters I was performing. By creating histories for them, knowing their past, even when the details had nothing to do with the play. Because by giving my characters as much personal detail, as many characteristics, and motivations as I can, I find their responses far easier to come by. I know how they think and react and how their present lives are infused by their pasts. Studying various personality traits, characteristics, tics, phobias, and how past events have shaped them - how their childhoods form their adult actions and reactions. Why they are motivated to do something, or fearful of doing something else. Why they have a particular personality - withdrawn, solitary, independent or outgoing, loyal and gregarious. How they'll react to the hero or heroine - or the villain - of a piece, all of which makes writing the story greatly easier. I never have to stop and ponder, "what would they do..." because I've created their personalities and I KNOW what they will do. Be it in a disaster or in the bedroom.

It is rather a bit like a Dr. Frankenstein experience to create a living, breathing human being - at least on paper - but it can be thrilling and exhilarating when I come to a point in a story where I know exactly what, and why, my character is going to do. Which allows me to move the story forward and makes my characters' behavior immediate and real to the reader.

And of course, when I pass on helpful suggestions (and I do that a lot - I hope I'm not a pest, but I love to be able to make my past experiences and what I've learned as useful to as many as possible)it makes me feel the time spent on these past pursuits is that much more valuable.

So today, when I made a recommendation that my fellow writers study plays for the purpose of examining how to use dialogue to be efficient, to create distinct characters and to understand the way to move a plot and expose details without exposition and excessive narrative, it felt great. And it reminded me of my favorite plays (Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, A Streetcar Named Desire) and playwright (Tennesee Williams). Which brought me to remember an exquisite little 2-character play called TALK TO ME LIKE THE RAIN AND LET ME LISTEN, a bittersweet, poignant piece that exposes the man and woman's deepest yearnings. It brought me back and reminded me of the joys of that genre of literature and how well it works for me now, as a writer, to have experienced it.

And I am now reminded of one of the greatest character studies of all, one that was sent to me from England by a fellow actor friend. It is Anthony Sher's The Year of the King and covers his work on the character of Richard III - and how he morphed himself into the character for his acclaimed portrayal. It is an excrutiatingly in-depth look at how a character is built. And I've never forgotten it.

So, now I have a great idea for a tortured hero and all I need is the story to go with him! Hmm. Something about an unjustly accused royal with a penchant for another man's wife?

Eureka!

It's The Little Things...

2009-06-03T14:31:00.000-07:00

I'm on vacation and one of the things I promised my Mother I would do is go through the wealth of magazines and newspapers that I have stockpiled (look for my picture under "pack rat" in the dictionary). As many writers do, I'm sure, I can find a reason to save just about everything. Photographs that will inspire a scene, or provide the home, or gown, or look of a character. Stories that can provide background for places, careers, lifestyles, or personal background. News articles that reek of fictional possibilities - from crime stories to human interest essays. Ads for perfumes, cars, travel, food, wine, clothes, makeup, or products. Gardens and kitchens and yachts and restaurants all have immediate inspiration for me. So I save them. Everything. And I DO mean everything. Just ask my Mom.

So. This afternoon, with a bad back from too much lugging of heavy materials during my gardening work yesterday, I can only sit. I like to be outside as often as possible since my "day job" requires that I be sequested in an office, looking, yearning, for the out of doors. But at home on vacation in the late spring, with everything green and lush, and before the heat of summer settles in, I can relax and recuperate outside in my $14.00 plastic Adirondack chair.

So....that's what I was doing this afternoon. Going through four year old magazines, month old newspapers, and culling ideas. Inspiration.

From the classical musician who has dedicated himself to teaching classical music to the students in Iraq who have no instruments or teachers or schools. From the woman and her three daughters and granddaughters who run an organic farm in California. The cupcake maven who, instead of heading to his bar exam instead bought a truck and went into the cupcake street vendor business. The archeologists who race against time to excavate in areas that are being turned into "improvements"/ And to the black and white students who have separate proms because segregation still lives .... except for the one plucky girl who attended both, because she's dated an African-American schoolmate for several years. And of course I found some stunning photographs that perfectly capture the art space for my erotic photographer character. And the spare, masculine bedroom of my John Bearkiller character. And a hugely amusing explosion of purple living space that just SCREAMS to be the bedroom of my wacky demon fighter and ghost talker.

So never pass by the paper. The magazines. Don't necessarily stockpile (I'm going to be culling til the cows come home ... and did I mention the story about the family that has happy cows and an organic ice cream operation?), but don't discount the value of these other places where inspiration abounds.

Sure, we need to work on our craft, study the business aspects of being a successful author, and, DUH, we need to write. But the value of immersing yourself in the worlds around you - worlds that you certainly can't always experience (unless you are far luckier than I, fiscally-speaking). They can give you that flavor, that nuance, that extra-special sensual touch that can create an amazing character, a delicous world, or a unique atmosphere.

Oh, and don't forget: RECYCLE!

What Would Guttenberg Do?

2009-05-26T18:24:00.000-07:00

I'm far from being a technological maven. But I am pretty savvy when it comes to reading the writing on the wall. And today, for a writer, that writing says -envision this is big, bold, billboard sized letters:

E-PUBLISHING IS THE WAVE OF THE FUTURE
AND THE FUTURE IS NOW!

Would that this held true across the board. But it doesn't. Writers' organizations have rules and guidelines, obviously. Mystery Writers of America and the Thriller Writers' group, plus numerous others, have a published requirement, either to join, or to join at a full-membership level.

RWA does not have this. Yet.

But the past guidelines for membership in the Romance Writers of America will soon be - it appears - gone with the wind.

Re-vamping what constitutes a General member ("career-focused", and however they choose to define that term) is in the offing. Already the definition of an Associate member has been fine-tuned and re-vamped to narrow the membership. And the continual "career-focused" term, and the obsession with the amount of money an author makes, bode ill for the rest of us. Those of us who (as I have) have been members for many, many years, paying full, General Membership dues, have served on boards, as volunteers and as cheerleaders for our fellow members. Those of us whose dollars have gone to fill the coffers that have allowed the purchase of an entire building dedicated to the organization. We members who have attended national conferences (with hefty fees). Those of us at local levels who have raised our membership - and thus raised the membership of National, as well as the bank account. Well, it looks likes we're about to be pushed back down the ladder, slipping and sliding down those rungs as the current Board re-organizes the rules and regulations and restrictions and when it is all said and done the current (and much touted) membership of 10,000 will be far, far, fewer.

Am I worried? Well, not so much. Because over the past four years I have discovered the vexing frustration of membership in this organization. As a writer of erotic romance I am among those belittled by numerous members and not defended by National leadership. As a pre-published author beginning to grasp the import of the economic times and the technological advances, I am watching as the e-published author and format is dissed from here til Tuesday. Contest rules have been changed to be more exclusive. Membership status is being changed to be more exclusive. A Manchurian Candidate-like policy of explanation that keeps members from understanding the realities of the industry and hiding beneath the soothing blanket of "protection" and support offered by National RWA. But what isn't changing?

Well, let's see.

RWA's failure to support of the marketing/promotion and sales efforts of memberships ("self-promo" and "marketing" posts are frowned upon, restricted, or banned, entirely).

The dearth of serious craft and writing business knowledge among so many of the membership, including basic understanding of intellectual property issues, contractual basics and an understanding of the reality of romance fiction versus the "RWA" promulgated romance "rules". (There are a ton of smart, savvy RWA members, to be sure, but all too often I see members floundering in a sea of misinformation.)

RWA's lack of support for the growing industry at large and the newest technological aspects that permit greater diversity of publication formats.

RWA's (apparent) lack of understanding of the economic and industrial changes that are taking place in the publishing industry which are further dictating a move towards e-published and digital formats.

Or, RWA's continued failure to recognize that the primary movers and shakers in the romance publishing game have seen the light and are moving forward with various format changes and different business models that are poised to take the world of the written word by storm.

Frankly, I'm learning far more from non-RWA sources. Other Yahoo groups, marketing organizations, e-zines, trade periodicals, non-RWA conferences, and non-RWA writing groups who have broken out of the divisive, caste-like RWA mold. Sadly, there are some great RWA chapters. There are some great RWA members. There are lots of folks who are grappling with the changing economic times, evolving genres in the romance fiction world, and technological advancements that have even the mavens struggling to keep up, all while attempting to write wonderful, entertaining books that can please their readers, get their work published, and make an honest living at it. It just seems to me that they are fighting these various battles alone. That RWA is retreating to its ivory tower to hide behind the tried and the true - and the antiquated, and in the process is not just raising the bar for members, but is actually turning it sideways into a pole vault rather than a high jump so that far fewer of us can make the cut. And we'll be relegated to a real, or a perceived, second class status.

So, I'm wrapping up my RWA business. I'll be taking my bat and ball and going to play in a whole new ballgame. I've got responsibilities at the moment to RWA chapters that I don't feel comfortable abandoning even though I will not be a participant beyond this year. No more sweating the time commitment of my volunteer services for multiple chapters. No more thousands of dollars membership fees, conference registration costs, contest entry fees. I'll be learning from authors who are out in the real world but not hampered by the RWA yoke. Not buying into the growing, discriminatory mentality of the RWA. Not swallowing the excuse that e-published authors can't succeed or be deemed "published" simply because they didn't get the $1,000 advance. Learning about the new technology, the value of on-line marketing and web presence and meeting and networking with people who are not stuck in a darker age when publishing success meant a pretty book on a shelf in a mall. I'll miss some fabulous people - but I'll be cheering them on whether it be by purchasing their pretty paper books off the shelves - or wrangling an e-book onto some form of a digital reader. But in my mind, they'll be just as thoroughly PUBLISHED either way.

Hell, before too long, I predict in the very near future, small presses, POD and e-publishing may very well be the only way authors outside of that hallowed "best seller list" world may ever get published or sold. Publishers are reining in their acquisitions so fewer of those precious "mass" published, paper copy books are going to be churned out anyway. And bookstores are folding, some hovering at the precipice of bankruptcy, and cutting back on their orders - sticking to the tried and true bestsellers. Tell me that's not a sure fire disaster for the mid-list author! Or if you are one of those lucky few authors to get "traditionally" published? I'm betting that oh-so-holy advance against royalties is going to be winnowed down, whittled away and shrunken. And publishers will be less generous when you don't sell-through. And marketing budgets will shrink so more of the burden will be on the author to hit the bestseller list. So what yardstick will be used to validate a "real" author when the holy grail of "advances" goes from four or five or six figures to, say, three? Who's gonna be the "real" authors then?

Hmmm?

The Lusty Month of May!

2009-05-03T10:49:00.000-07:00

There's a great song in the most romantic of classic musicals, CAMELOT, that extols the virtues of Spring as it impacts the romantic nature of men and women. "The Lusty Month of May" was great fun to sing when, as a Junior at Carle Place High School, I portrayed Guinevere in our Spring musical production.

I'll never forget how my overly romantic and melodramatic self became a walking, talking romantic fool. I was performing with a boy who had become my very first "ex" the Christmas immediately before. My Lancelot was a friend, with whom I "rehearsed" by practicing our kissing. But most romantic of all was the budding relationship that began during that show, with the fella who still reigns supreme in my heart as "the one that got away".

Umpteen years later, jaded with adulthood and cynical about the state of love in this cold, cruel REAL world, I find myself frequently reliving those youthful years because that is the sensation I strive for in writing my romance stories. The one that I think nearly every human has felt. That first heart-pounding, stammering, overwhelming experience of meeting someone's eyes across a room and feeling your entire soul swell with possibility.

I think that many (if not most) romance authors would agree - love in real life is NOT like it is in books - all those heart-warming acknowledgements to husbands and lovers notwithstanding. We're not the romantic heroes and heroines of our books - the larger than life people who always get a HEA, that happily ever after that everyone trodding the everyday path in this weary world would love to be guaranteeed.

But that is what makes a great romance so wonderful. Because it is something that takes us back, reminds us, of that swell of love, that indescribable sensation that is both physical and mental that utterly absorbs our every waking thought and emotion (and some sleeping ones, too). The giddy joy that is almost painful, the unbearable anticipation, the thrilling expectation, the sing-out-loud-at-the-top-of-your-lungs feeling that is unmatched by any other in the world.

Writing romance means that you have to be able to capture, and package, that emotion (and find the words to describe the indescribable) no matter what your life is like. Whether you are in a wonderful, nurturing relationship, or living a solitary existence with only your BFF - Fluffy the Cat. Despite work travails, personal responsibility, health problems, the onset of age and the day-to-day unpleasantness that no one is immune from, we must write great love stories where true love triumphs against all odds. Be they heroic adventures, supernatural couplings, or the madcap whirl of a contemporary category romance. They must have heroes that remind us of the love of our life. And heroines in whose shoes - and negliges - we can imagine ourselves. (Don't tell me readers don't imagine themselves to be the heroines of their favorite novels, just don't!).

Romance novelists, like any other author of fiction, face the usual problems of craft, writer's block, coming up with ideas, finding the time to write, business issues and fear of success.

But unlike other writers, we romance writers have our very own, singular problem. Bringing that sense of romance and love to all of our readers. Sweeping them into a world where love will conquer all. No matter what a reader's life is like, convincing them of the power of love. Whether they are a septugenarian in Saskatchewan or a twenty-something in Tulsa. A widow in Wasilla, a happily married Mom in Mackinaw or a spinster in San Francisco. That beating of the heart that pounds in your ears. That sigh of yearning and the secret smile. The touch, the tingle, the dreams and the desires. That is what our writing must generate. We want to leave our readers leaning back wearing that mysterious expression that says yes, they, too, have felt the pangs and the power of a love as great as any that has ever been.

And believe me. That AIN'T easy!

What's Your Flavor?

2009-04-12T15:33:00.000-07:00

There was a recent article that made the rounds very quickly in the romance writing community. Fast on the heels of a NY Times article that pointed out how wonderfully romance fiction was selling in the bad economic times, came an article from the online edition of a Delware paper whose author chimed in on the same debate, but with the condescension and derision so familiar to us romance authorly types. "Bodice rippers" haven't been seen in decades (having quickly faded out of favor after their introduction in the 1970's)yet the terminology still remains and is bandied about with vigor and snide smiles whenever the chance comes to bash the genre.

And this woman freely admitted she'd never read romance, proceeded to hold up the small sub-genre of the mystery baby and the sheik seeking a concubine type of Harlequin novel as the main thrust of the genre.

A few folks took it to heart - as did I - though many were lackidaisikal in there response.

My thought was that there is no other genre of popular fiction so frequently and universally sneered at as romance. And my only conclusion can be that it is because it is a genre written almost entirely by women. Those men who write romance - oh, yes they do! - James Patterson, Nicholas Sparks, et al - are treated as authors of "fiction" and shelved on the fiction shelves while women, no matter their sales track record, are segregated within the "romance" section (remember, that there can be no equality in segregation).

What it prompted me to think of - besides how best to phrase my retort to the columnist in question, and wondering how the other non-concerned romance authors looked at the world and their craft - was the sheer wealth of genres of romance that now exist and are enjoyed, world-wide (and yes, world-wide is absolutely correct).

And I know about these genres because I cannot manage to tie myself down to a single, specific genre, but keep being lured away - enticed, if you will - by so many various ones. Perhaps it is my Gemini mood swings, but I just love them all. Well, mostly all. Frankly, I don't do sweet, inspirational or Christian (and that will come as a shock to, well, no one). But everything else? Hell, yes, I'm game!

So here we go: Contemporary romantic comedy; romantic suspense; paranormal romance; urban fantasy; occult paranormal romance; erotic romance (contemporary, historical, paranormal and horror); fantasy (even high fantasy); romantic mystery (really mysteries, but with romance involved); historical romance (Victorian, Gilded Age, Civil War, Scottish, Wild West, Revolution, Crimean War, etc.); historical women's fiction (WWII); futuristic; erotica; and category romance (Blaze, here I come!). Not to mention novellas and shorts which I've just come to write.

Just a short year or two ago the advice was to stick with one genre. Don't diversify or your editors will be upset! But then again, there was the rule of thumb a while back that said NEVER mention that you have a sequal or an idea for a series - they'll think you're stuck up.

NOW? Hell, you have a series, they'll LOVE you. Write more than one genre, ka-ching, you're tapping into a bunch of difference customer pools. With e-books the opportunities abound for an author to write multiple genres. And branding oneself makes it easier to be multi-branded - multi-genred, if you will - and still find a loyal following.

Because my writing runs to spicey, spicier, spiciest (FIRE!), I expect that I won't have any trouble at all garnering an audience. It isn't as if I'm going to write inspirational sweet fiction with nary a smooch on Monday and on Friday turn around and publish dominatrix-laden BDSM erotic romance. I won't be shocking anyone. They'll know what they're going to get from me. Whether they like history, or fantasy, or contemporary, dramatic, or comedic, they'llknow it will be MY VOICE and my level of smokin' sex and what I feel I do best: great characters, neat dialogue, terrific description and a rollicking plot. Oh, yeah, did I mention? None of my stuff is calm or particularly introspective. I do big, loud, boisterous romance. Nothing small or quiet about me. I'm not Melanie, I'm Scarlett.

Count on it.

Got Romance?

2009-01-21T11:20:00.001-08:00

No matter what I write, it's got at least a dollop of romance. Usually a lot more than a dollop. Whether it is a World War II historical espionage novel or an erotic urban vampire paranormal story, from a soupcon of sensual detail to banging-the-headboard hot sex, there's also, always, romance. Love, if you will. Obsession, lust, desire, call it what you will - but you'll find love in one of its many permutations in my writing.

So I've redesigned my blog site to reflect the basic fact that everyone I write is romantic. Even if it isn't romance. Not exactly hearts and flowers, but more in keeping with me!

There's always a woman looking for and finding love. Sometimes it is with the Prince after she's kissed the lot of frogs. Often it is a devastatingly gorgeous Alpha male who may need to be convinced just how right Ms. Right can be. On occasion, it might even be two (or more) devastatingly gorgeous Alpha males (don't you just love menage?) dancing attendance upon my Mademoiselle. But no matter the heat level, her heart is always engaged. Whether it is a kiss on the hand or a super-hot flogging, she loves the man who does her so good.

Of course I write outside the "romance genre" box - a happily-ever-after ending may be blatant, or it may only be hinted at. My heroines may have relationships before they meet the hero - or maybe they'll have one in between when the hero is out of her life. And she may not meet the dude of her destiny until further along in her story. But a heroine needs a hero (or two) so rest assured he'll be there. Even when it is a genre-bending story with elements of love.

But now it's time to get back to my creative drawing board and whip up a little love-fest! Get my heroine of the moment - an empath with intimacy issues - into the arms of her hero-to-be (a NYC Vampire with trouble on his hands).

So if you'll excuse me ..... Love Awaits!

When Bad Computer Things Happen To Good People

2009-01-10T19:15:00.000-08:00

OK, so I will freely admit that I am technologically challenged. I'm also rather complacent because I have a day job in an office with the blessed IT department (read computer geeks who solve all the problems so all I have to do it email HELP and like magic it is repaired).

SO. I have the usual Wi-Fi, router stuff, with a one time Geek Squad visit that nearly put me in the poorhouse and once I got ON LINE I because, quickly, I admit it, ADDICTED.

First, I started Googling. Websites, research (and yes, I admit it, Kink.com, naughty erotica sites and so forth). Then I got my own email address. And I set up Yahoo group sites. And wonder of wonders, became adept at Blogging.

Every day - mornings before work, evenings as soon as I arrived home from work, BLOG, BLOG, BLOG.

I loved it. I was addicted.

THEN

CAME

THE

COMPUTER

CRASH.

I was hysterical.

All of a sudden

"cannot connect to your wireless service" or whatever it said.

YIKES.

I checked everything. All the little green lights on the Cablevision box were blinking. The router lights were on.

Wires connected (dusty, yes, but connected).

I cried, I raged, I whined, I blamed.

Two days, then three, without email. Without blogging.

At work I was desperately trying to do it all and get blogging and the 2nd of my 3 email addresses checked.

Stress. Anxiety. How horrible!

Then tonight I came home from a writers' meeting. Feeling especially stubborn, frustrated and impotent because so many others can manouver this internet business, and I decided to give it one more go.

The yellow plug. Out. In.

The white plug. Out. In.

The black thingie plug. Out. In.

Then the cable box. Plugs 1, 2 and 3. Out, in and then, yes, I ran to the computer.

I plugged it in. Turned it on and prayed, yes, PRAYED AND BEGGED THE GODDESS.

PLEASE HELP ME!

And Lo.

And.

Behold.

YES.

My internet connection was back.

The fates?

Sheer luck?

The right plugged pulled and reinsterted?

The grace of the Goddess?

I will bless them all and say thank you and for now, feel relieved and blessed that yes, I can BLOG AGAIN.

Because I think I am addicted to this blogging thing. This connection with the world out there of writers and geeks and computer folk.

Aaaah....now, yes, I can sleep in peace.

Because all is right with the world.

My internet it back.

I am connected.

I am not alone.

It's That Time of Year

2008-12-29T15:34:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-25T12:34:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-11-02T14:45:00.000-08:00

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

2008-08-22T07:23:00.000-07:00

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 -

2008-08-08T19:15:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-05T06:28:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-05-10T14:34:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-02-25T18:44:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-02-09T18:44:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-01-30T17:03:00.001-08:00

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

2008-01-21T11:35:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-17T18:29:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-15T03:42:00.001-08:00

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!

2008-01-11T20:23:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-10T20:13:00.000-08:00

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.