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Sometimes, Sailor Boy or a coworker or a stranger on the Metro notices that I seem rather far away. I’m not copyediting, or typing, or stirring the spaghetti, or noticing the blind, lame metro-rider who would like to get by me thank-you-very-much. When that is happening, this is what it looks like in my head. What does your mind look like when you are thinking hard? I’m in the midst of writing a romantic scene for my book. (No, I’m not going to tell you who it’s with — that would ruin the surprise! This is part of the fun of not writing in the genre of romance — you guys have to play guessing games about my heroine’s love interests.) Though part of the fun of writing anyhting romantic is the possibility of living vicariously through one’s own creations, even if just for the span of the book/chapter/scene. Gena Showalter is currently discussing bad boys and their endless appeal on her blog. I’m not so much into bad boys. I remember one of my first TARA meetings talked about hero archetypes (I believe using Tami Cowden’s list). The idea was to look over your favorite books/movies, etc. and see which type you as an author, were drawn to over and over again. At the time, I’d only written two books, but now that I’ve written more, I can see my pattern emerging (and it’s not a shocker, considering who I’ve been dating for the last four years). Here’s Tami’s list, with asterisks next to the ones I’ve written. 1. Chief I think that all of my Swashbucklers have the element of the Charmer in them, and my Warrior, Vincent, was definitely a bit of a Swashbuckler. Ethan, my Charmer, never had a chance for much action, though I’m sure he would have taken to it in a heartbeat. Nate, my Best Friend, was part of my trial book, and so I don’t think he really counts. Jonathan of course, is your standard Swashbuckler (she calls him a pirate, throughout) and of course, a consummate Charmer to boot. I’ve got a Professor in the back of my head, and think that in general, I want all of my heroes to be Indiana Jones, so they’re all going to be a steady mix of Charmer and Professor all wrapped up in a big hunk of Swashbuckler. But that’s romance, where the characters tend to be larger than life. Here, they are much less so. Amy has a lot of potential love interests, but what is interesting about them is that they aren’t all heroes — that is, I can write a bad boy who is actually a bad boy, not a hero masquearding as one. This is a very different conceit than what one follows in a romance, IMO. It’s been rather fun to work with. Right now, the most heroic of the characters is a quintessential Best Friend — to the heroine, though I think if he were to be the hero of his own story, he’d be a Professor. Interesting, how the archetype of a character can change depending on who it is he’s relating to. What archetypes do you feel drawn towards writing (doesn’t have to be your heroes)? The blogosphere is exploding with attacks on chick lit. Look here and here for a few well-written responses. The most interesting thing I’ve noted on all of these posts is that the people proclaiming the loudest about their dislike for the genre of chick lit said mainly that they didn’t like the fashion-obsession and the shopping and the stupid heroines and the deus ex machina happy endings and the plotless books. To my thinking, that’s like saying you don’t like romance because you hate books with arranged marriages or beautiful bluestocking heroines or rich heroes or secret babies. That is not what comprises the genre, folks. But when someone tries to make that point by presenting examples of chick lit books that don’t have the qualities the chick-haters describe, the response was almost universally, “Oh, I don’t think of that as chick lit.” Well, isn’t that convenient! It’s so much easier to dismiss an entire genre when you decide that any book that doesn’t have the qualities you dislike is not part of that genre. Sheesh. This is why so many chick lit writers are disavowing their own genre, why my own editor is describing my book as “more than chick lit.” Isn’t it better to say that the genre is more than what the detractors are calling it? I’ve read flat, shallow chick lit books that I’ve disliked, and I’ve read riveting, deeply funny, deeply moving books about women growing into their lives and taking charge and saving themselves. One of my very good writing friends say that the true romance in chick lit is about loving yourself. To misquote agent Lucienne Diver: “Don’t tell me that you space-set book with the phase-guns isn’t science fiction because it’s better than science fiction. Don’t put down your own genre.” My book is chick lit. It’s a coming-of-age story about a young woman told in a tart, funny, confessional tone. She doesn’t go shopping (though I think I mention her picking up a package of underwear in chapter one), she’s not an idiot (though she could probably stand to brush up a bit on her literary critics), there’s suspense and drama and plot to spare and she’s going to have to fight pretty damn hard for her happy ending. I do not write in the “shopping genre.” I write modern, funny, female-oriented coming-of-age stories. I don’t give a shit about shoes, but it’s still chick lit. I had a Bad Day(tm) yesterday. Total, woke-up-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-bed, felt cranky, tired, frustrated, annoyed, everything. I wrote some snippy emails. I ranted on my blog (see below post, which is apparently being viewed in a much more positive light than I had any suspicion it would be). I got a little upset about a problem at work. And I really wanted to go home and be in a bad mood. I wanted to fight with Sailor Boy, to force myself to read a wretched book, to eat yucky food and pout and mope and wallow in the mud of my Bad Day(tm). This would have been a Bad Idea(tm). Luckily, around three o’clock, I had an intense craving for shrimp. Maybe it was reading this, a guest post of Marley’s on Pam’s food blog. I don’t eat salmon (though I promise I’ll try yours, M!), but I started craving shrimp. So when I stepped off the Metro this evening, I turned left instead of right and headed to the grocery store fish market. I picked up a pound of gulf shrimp (which they totally overcharged me for, by the way, and I’m lucky I didn’t discover that fact until this morning, as it might have completely obliterated my cure) and a few Dungeness crab clusters, went home, poured myself a lovely dirty martini (which no, I don’t usually do, but today was a special circumstance), and started making dinner. When Sailor Boy came home, it was almost ready. He knew about my Bad Day(tm) and hadn’t had such a hot one himself, and so was understandably surprised when I told him that I was having crab, shrimp, and crispy rosemary potatoes for dinner. In the past, he has hinted around at the fact that he loves me for my crispy rosemary potatoes (and I overcooked them last night, but I think he loved me anyway). Anyway, I cooked up the potatoes, reheated the crabs, and proceeded to make the “Shrimp My Way” recipe from How To Cook Everything. It’s delish. Get about a pound and a half of shrimp, and cover the bottom of an over-safe skillet with oil, warm on low heat, toast a few cloves of garlic in the hot oil until they are golden brown, then add 1 tsp. of cumin, 1.5 tsp. of paprika and the shrimp. Toss until everything’s coated, then cook it under your broiler until browned and bubbly. I think next time I might add a dash of something to make it a bit more sweet — chili perhaps, or maybe a bit of honey. I like my spicy a little sweet, you know? But it was good. Then we had Hagen Dazs Dulche de Leche for dessert, and watched Young Frankenstein. And I slept for nine hours. I’m cured. My agent has posted a very thought-provoking essay on her blog about listening to other people’s advice about writing. The most interesting point she made (in my opinion) is: the operating assumption behind [this advice] is that all writers (and writing careers) are created equal. I would liken an author trying to “hitch a ride” on the career advice of another author or their agent as being akin to self-diagnosis based on a doctor’s medical advice to someone else. What Madame Knight didn’t point out is that often writers, editors, and agents are trapped into giving a piece of advice or an observation, only to have that advice pr observation turned into a holy and unbreakable law that all writers everywhere should follow or risk the fires of everlasting damnation and lack-of-publishing-career (cf. eHarlequin on a daily basis). She writes: I saw somewhere recently where a writer posted that I had said paranormals were hot, but then this same author heard a guest on an RWA-sponsored pro loop say paranormals were already past their prime and not selling anymore. The poster remarking on my RWC comments then said, “What am I to believe? Who am I to believe?” Both of them. Neither of them. Either of them. Maybe the loop guest was an editor who just received a host of poorly performing sales records on the middling paras she put out last quarter. Maybe it was an agent who noticed that she wasn’t selling the vamp books as quickly as she was two years ago (I mean, Berkley’s schedule has to fill eventually, right?). Maybe it was an assistant who had just slogged through a waist-high pile of badly edited Sherrilyn Kenyon ripoff submissions and wanted to head off the next batch at the pass. Maybe it’s the kind of person who passes on Star Wars, then spends the next four decades kicking himself. And maybe after she’s finished saying all that, she’ll see the next Diana Gabaldon on her slush pile and completely revise her stance. And, just because another agent is selling them like there’s a run on ghoulies does not mean that yours will sell. Taking the opinion of any one editor or agent (even one as savvy as mine) as word-on-high, everlasting publishing dogma is just plain wrong. They are not talking about your book. Editors are terrified to say “I’m looking for vampires,” and then, upon rejecting a vampire story, get slapped in the face with, “I just gave you what you said you were looking for! Liar!” (They are equally terrified of saying what they aren’t looking for, lest they miss out on a really amazing one of those as well.) Writers whine that they’re tired of hearing the same old, “fresh story, great voice” answer, but what other answer can they give? They may love vampires, but only vampires they love. They may be wild about YA, but only if it’s YA they’re wild about. And, back to my original point. The main thing I’ve noticed about the difference between being an author with a publishing contract and an author without a publishing contract is that now, more people think I’m doing something right. But the problem is that what works and doesn’t for my publishing career might be diametrically opposed to what works for yours. Just because my book sold at auction in a week on a partial doesn’t mean that your book will receive multiple offers in a short time incomplete, nor does it mean that if it doesn’t do any of those things, your book is bad and won’t sell. And just because I hit that magic button this time around does not mean that every other book I put on sale will be equally well-received. In fact, there’s a certain pressure I’m trying to deny that I’m under on this very topic, a subject that will be saved for a later post. These pieces of advice are probably good, don’t get me wrong. And it can never hurt to listen to industry experts and to try to copy the habits of highly-effective writers. BUt don’t listen to them and copy them just becuase they are who they are. Take what they say, apply it to your career. If it fits, use it. If it doesn’t, toss it out. Here endeth the rant. I must be a very unpopular blogger. No one ever tags me for these memes. So I’ve decided to be that annoying kid who ruins a game of Tag by suddenly proclaiming that she, too, is It, and therefore, It-ness begins to spread like a virus until no one is sure who is chasing whom… Number of Books I Own Last Book I Bought On My ‘To Buy’ List Last Book I Read TWELVE Books that Mean a Lot to Me (only five? Please…) In other news, I finally found my camera (it’s been missing since the cherry blossoms, and I’d almost given up hope), so you’ll start to see pictures here again. Woo hoo! I’ve about had it. I’ve read several books in the last few weeks that flat out refused to give me a proper ending. Writers, I don’t care if you’ve got a twenty-seven book series, I don’t care if you’re trying to leave a few secrets for books 20-23, I don’t care if you have a proposal you’re just dying to sell and you think that having readers clamor for more will be the way to nudge your publisher along — WRITE ME A FRICKING ENDING OR I WILL NOT BUY ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR BOOKS. Capice? This is what happens: The book is sailing along, getting stormier and more dangerous and more exciting and more unescapable and oh, oh, oh, what’s going to happen? Will they survive? Will they escape? Will they live happily ever after? I DON’T KNOW. In Book A (name withheld), the climax was still climaxing at the end of the last chapter. The EPILOGUE showed the rest of the climax, but didn’t really deal with the fates of any of the characters. Um, excuse me? What kind of crap is that? I honestly thought I was missing a few pages. In Book B (name withheld), we at least found out whether the main characters survived. However, we had no clue why the villain did what she did, no idea of what it was that that nemesis wanted to do to the heroine, and no concept of what the main characters’ mindset was after the climax. There was no resolution, except for one of the secondary heroes (the heroine’s brother, who had his own resolution), and the only post-climax scene dealt with a minor secondary character who was, you guessed it, the hero of the next book. Grrrrrrrrrrrr! I am currently writing the first book in a series and I’m taking as my series model the Harry Potter books. My books will have satisfactory endings of their own right as well as making people excited about the next book in the series. As Blog is my witness, they shall. And, in other news, finished Awaken Me Darkly last night. What a great book! (What a great ending!) Because sometimes, she gets it right! Go, Marisela! And, in other Naughty Girls of Downtown Press news, I’m halfway through Awaken Me Darkly… and it rocks. Go buy. Go buy both! Busy busy busy today, so I’ll just leave you with some links to interesting blogs I’ve been reading lately: Gabrielle is an Aussie ex-pat in Paris, and her Oz-tinged blogposts do the impossible: make me miss her country. She’s apparently a reader here (hi, Gabrielle!) and I’m very into her style. Oh, and Get Well, Kylie. And, on the lists of bloggers-beginning-with G, Gillian Anderson has a blog. Gillian. Anderson. My geeky heart goes wild. Hands up, people, Gillian Anderson or Julianne Moore as your favorite redheaded actress? Gillian? Julianne? (Anyone who says Renee Russo can get out of my office right now.) And, the best review of the new Star Wars I’ve seen to date. One final note: We are now officially in the second half of (Secret) Society Girl, Book 1. Paperback Writer is asking for favorite authorial quotes. (In passing, I am in the middle of If Angels Burn,and I will have plenty to say about it when I’m done.) Inspired, I thought I’d share my three favorites here: 1. The harder you work, the luckier you get. So true. So, so true. And probably something I’m most likely to forget, so I remind myself daily. 2. Love the book, not the scene. Karen Hawkins said this at my first RWA meeting. It’s brilliant. Notice its subtle distinction from the ridiculous (and unaccountably popular) “Kill your darlings.” Sometimes, your darlings deserve to live. Just becuase you love a scene doesn’t mean it’s bad. But it doesn’t mean it’s good, either. 3. Get in late, get out early. Should have this one tattooed on the back of my hands, so I see it every time I type. What are your favorites?
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