Obsession

The relationship I develop with each story I write seems to be almost the same as I would have with a lover. The first rush of “meeting” the characters and the thrill of getting to know them excites me, giving me the impetus to put their adventures down on paper. I think about the story all the time, wondering what’s going to happen next. No matter what else I’m doing the characters, like an absent lover, are constantly on my mind.

Sometimes the relationship seems to falter, and the lover is put aside with the hope that, perhaps when the stars are in proper alignment, the relationship can continue. Sometimes I know it won’t, and there is a sense of loss, of failure, but after the sadness wanes, I move on (faithless hussy!). There can also be a time when I hate the book or novella, usually during prolonged editing or at those moments when I have to fight though a blockage. But that dislike is similar to feeling a lover is being difficult but the relationship is still worth saving, so you persevere.

The worst time for me is when the story is finished, and I know it’s finished. That is, for me, a time of mourning. Even if it is rejected and needs to be re-written, or accepted and has to be re-edited, the moment when I feel I’ve finally captured what I wanted will never come again. I’ve come to recognise this and instead of trying to jolly myself out of it simply accept it, ride it out.

Eventually I hear the call either of a new love or an old one waiting for me to come back, and the excitement, the obsession, builds again. Ahhh, love!

First lesson learned for 2009...

...always write your blog post in Word first, so that when the computer goes ca-boom, you'll have it saved!

I usually do, but tonight, having had a good writing day and some really nice soup, I was feeling cocky. Lesson learnt...cocky doesn’t work for me!

The original blog post was better, but now the muse is tugging like the dickens at me and I really want to get back to writing that boiling hot love scene I was building up to. So this post will be shorter...did I hear a sigh of relief??? LOL!

Firstly thank you, thank you, thank you, to all the people who bought The Pearl at the Gate in 2008, and a huge shout-out to the reviewers at The Romance Studio, who nominated it for a CAPA!! I was a little surprised to see it in the Historical category rather than the Erotic Historical one, but hey, I’m just so chuffed they nominated it at all! The full list of nominees can be found here, on their site, so go by and check it out.

That novella really got my writing juices flowing again, so I’m hard at work on some re-writes and other stuff. This will be a year where I concentrate a bit more on promotions and getting out there, so I hope no one gets tired of seeing me around and about. I’m also trying to get the historical blog a group of us were discussing last year up and running. It’s a really exciting group of writers involved and hopefully they’re still interested and we can get going. I find myself drawn more and more to the historical and fantasy side of writing, although I love doing a really hot contemporary on occasion. I think this year I’ll be concentrating more on the historical, but you never know...the muse (in my case an old witch with an evil cackle and not much clothes) will have her way!

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming. All the very, very best for 2009, and remember—don’t cry for yesterday, for it is already gone, but live today as though tomorrow may never come!

I Join the King's Royal Yorkers

Last Saturday was a banner day for me. At last I donned my shift, pocket, stockings, garters, petticoat, bed jacket, apron and bonnet (Kady stole my fichu to stave of sunburn, or I would have had that on too!) plus a pair of leather buckle shoes to follow the drum!

The King's Royal Yorkers (modern version) is a re-enactment group based on the original regiment of loyalists formed in Canada to fight against the rebels during the American revolution. The gentleman who petitioned to be allowed to form the regiment, Sir John Johnson, lived in the Mohawk Valley in what is now New York State. He was a loyalist, and paid a heavy price for his loyalty to the Crown. Forced to flee his home, he made his way North, into what is now Canada. The rebellious Yankie Doodle Dandies had already pushed north but had been rebuffed, and the loyalist went on the offensive. They were a highly effective fighting force, and played a large part in keeping Canada free from the rebel forces determined to take over the entire North American continent.

This of course is the much shortened version, and doesn't truly begin to explain the hardships, triumphs and eventual defeat of the King's Royal Yorkers. For a comprehensive outline, please visit the King's Royal Yorkers regiment page and have a look at the other pages too. I must state though that the Yorkers were not defeated in battle, but by diplomacy. At the end of the war the Mohawk valley was in Loyalist hands, and they lost their homes via the Treaty of Paris. Canada could and should have been even bigger than it is now...

Hopefully I'll soon have a couple of pictures of the Thornhill Parade to share with you, and this winter I plan to kit myself out completely, including making myself a pair of stays! WOOT! I'll let you know how that turns out!

Be Still My Heart

Is there anything better than reading a phrase or passage that just makes your heart sing?

In need of comfort and inspiration, I turned to a couple of old favourites, the Lady Whistledown anthologies (The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown and Lady Whistledown Strikes Back). Now, with champion writers Julia Quinn, Karen Hawkins, Suzanne Enoch and Mia Ryan, you know you’re in for a treat. The star-crossed (or maybe I should say society-crossed) Regency lovers in these two books are enthralling, which is why the books survived my harsh pre-move purge. (I’m still crying over that loss. Book grief is insidious!) But Suzanne Enoch provided me with a moment that resonated so strongly I had to share. The following lines from The Best of Both Worlds, in Lady Whistledown Strikes Back made me catch my breath, and fall in love:

He smiled slowly, unable to resist running a finger along her cheek. “You are a challenge. And please don’t blame me because a shipload of very stupid men looked at you once and declared you uninteresting. I looked at you twice, and I saw what you are.”

Color crept up her cheeks. “And what is that?”

“Mine.”

OH, MY...

If I were the swooning type, swoon I would. I could picture it, like a scene from a movie, and it moved me to go into my husband’s office and kiss him on the top of his preoccupied head. His grunt of acknowledgement only made me smile.

Now I remember why I read romances, and why I write them. Maybe one day, if I’m good and faithful to the craft, I can give a reader that same feeling. Oh, I hope so, because that’s what it’s all about.

September...already???

It feels like just last week I was grumbling about the fact that winter wouldn't go away, and suddenly here we are in September again. I noticed a couple of little trees with bright orange leaves and "cut mi eye" (a rude, exaggerated turning away) at them. I actually like Fall, but I'm just not ready for it right now.

There's something very evocative about the end of summer. The fall flowers, with their deeper tones and hardier blooms, seem to be saying, "You have to be tough, as well as decorative, to be at your best at this time of year." They are the last hurrah before everything dies back and Old Man Winter throws his snowy robe around the land. I always get a little more introspective, more contemplative, the cooler the weather gets. I find myself looking into the woodlots and gardens as I drive by, my imagination drawing me in, picturing what it would feel like to run between the trees. Sometimes I pretend I'm being chased, heart pounding, desperate for a place to hide. Other times I'm a part of the woods, a nymph or goddess (usually a goddess...I like the fringe benefits!)

When I feel there isn't another word worth writing left in me, and I'm wrestling with the 'whys' and 'hows' of being an aspiring author, those flights of fancy give me a much needed lift. Inspiration is all around us, thank goodness!

Up, Down and Sideways

So we moved, arriving in the new town to the strains of Flogging Molly's Irish Drinking Song. Now, we're neither Irish nor heavy drinkers, but somehow, after what felt like months of packing, throwing stuff away, giving stuff away, and still not being able to get everything into the truck, a refrain of "Drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and fight, HEY!" seemed appropriate. A good stiff shot of rum, followed by a knock-down, drag-out brawl seemed in order. But, of course, all we did was unpack, snipe at each other a bit more, and then pass out from sheer exhaustion.

At that point, I hadn't written a word in about three weeks. I get mean when I'm not writing. Bob Marley said "a hungry man is an angry man" and writing is food for my soul, so it stands to reason that I was tetchy.

New town, and the start of a two week visit from my Dad, all in little more than a week. New business for my husband and the job search for me. New school for the fifteen-year-old. The two eldest children, both at the age where they are beginning to build their own lives, decided to stay in the old town. I miss them, and they miss us, especially the nineteen-year-old, who lived with us right up until the move. Frazzled didn't begin to describe the family dynamic.

Two rejections on novellas...a sub where I forgot to use my email letterhead, and didn't send proper contact information. I felt like a dweeb, and couldn't help wondering if it were all over. How, I wondered, do you build a writing career if you aren't writing and can't get an acceptance and can't even remember the basics, like sending your address on a submission?

LOL! Enough wallowing! I love my new town. The rejections weren't the "You suck, go away" types. They were the "I want to see these again if you want to expand and rewrite" types, leaving the door open. I re-sent the sub, knowing it wasn't the best possible first impression, but hey, I'm human, ain't I? But, best of all, I'm writing again, and the ideas are flowing again, and projects I've put aside are clamoring to be finished again. The sun is shining and one of my best friends in the world lives right next door. The house, at this particular instance, is quiet.

What more could I ask for...

Holy Hot Reviews Batgirl!

The Pearl at the Gate continues to surprise and delight me with the reception it's receiving. As well as the great reviews at MBaM and from Mrs. Giggles mentioned in my previous post, it also got two more wonderful reviews; a 5 Heart (!) one from The Romance Studio (read the review here) and a 4.5 Star from Manic Readers (read that review here).

I take my hat off to all reviewers. On the surface, as a voracious reader, I think it would be a great job. Under that though is a sea of difficulties. The number of books released each week is daunting; every writer wants a review, and wants it NOW; and each writer hopes above all to get a positive review, which can't always happen. Reviewers are people too, with their own tastes and preferences, and what they offer the public are their honest opinions.

Adding to the problem is the fact that writers also are people too, who get their feelings hurt when someone doesn't love their "baby." I know a positive review with even one caveat can make me feel like I'm under attack...fragile ego indeed! I'm forced to give my head a shake and remind myself everyone has a right to their opinion and, indeed, I would fight to the death to support that right. Get over it, and move on. Like Tom Hanks said, "Crying? Is she crying? There's no crying in baseball!" He may as well have been talking about writing. This business is not for sissies.

But every now and then a good crying jag can really clear the head!