Smoosh Face Food Hole

In a hot and heavy kissing scene, lips, mouth, and tongue end up getting used too repetitively. The problem is, there are no good replacement options: 

I just wrote this as an example: 

    His lips skimmed down her throat, and he pressed a hot kiss to the pulse there. His mouth and tongue left wet trails along her skin. Missing the heat of his kiss, she shivered at the chill left in its wake. She turned her head, desperate to press her lips to his – and he pulled away with a chuckle. 

    “Love, do you want my mouth?" 

    “So much. I need your kiss. I need to feel your lips." 

    “And my tongue?" He asked, skating his hand down her torso. 

    She arched into his touch, desperately needing more. "Yes, I want your lips, mouth, tongue – all of it. Now.” 

 Okay, so let’s switch it up to be less repetitive. 

    His lips skimmed down her throat, and he pressed a hot kiss to the pulse there. His mouth and tongue left wet trails along her skin. Missing the heat of his puckered sucking motion, she shivered at the chill left in its wake. She turned her head, desperate to press her face labia to his – and he pulled away with a chuckle. 

    “Love, do you want my oral cavity?" 

    “So much. I need your smoosh face. I need to feel your mouth flaps." 

    “And my lingua?" He asked, skating his hand down her torso. 

    She arched into his touch, desperate, needing more. "Yes, I want your face pillows, your food hole, your licky thingy – all of it. Now.” 

That was fun. And, on that, back to writing.

To Reverance or Not to Reverance

So many historical romance readers are familiar with the curtsy. It is woven throughout period stories and almost is the norm for anything that is olde-timey (<== not a real word). However, just like the value of virginity, it is not true for ALL times. Particularly, not Tudor.

The curtsy is limited to women. It began it's life known as the courtesy which, as the word implies, was meant to show courtesy or respect to a better or peer. The woman would start feet in turn out, one behind the other, and lower themselves at the knee with their back straight. It is an action similar to a plié in ballet.

What we now know as the curtsy evolved from the older reverance. In Italianate Renaissance dancing there is a move called the riverenza. Like a curtsy, it is similar to a plié but with the feet parallel. This dance move marks the start of most of the Italian choreography of the period, and Italian dancing was considered very sophisticated and practiced by the English court. The Italian choreographer, Caroso, uses the riverenza while the French choreographer, Arbeau, uses reverance ( <== real word).

During this same period, the polite response to one's betters or peers was a reverance (often referred to in period pieces as a bow or curtsy, but the period term is reverance). This motion was done both by men and women. Stepping back with one foot, the other foot pointed and forward, the courtier would shift weight to their back leg and bend at the knee, holding the position until signaled to rise. This motion gave men an opportunity to "make a leg" and show off their calf muscles (they were wearing slippers with form fitting silken hose and slops that ended above the knee, their calf was the most exposed body part and consider sexy on a man). Women did the same, but only the toe of the slipper might be seen peeping out from the hem of her skirts.

A curtsy is faster, but a reverance is more elegant. It makes more a spectacle of showing respect. While the word was in existence in the 16th century, it was not the customary action for show of respect until toward the end of the 17th century. It is no longer in use, but it was during the Elizabethan era. Since I do not write in dialect, I try to use a scattering of period, though some are obsolete, words to give the flavor of the era. And, since what a modern reader may think of as a bow or a curtsy is not the same action as a reverance, I decided to stick with it. I deal with the foreign feel of the word by describing the action during the first example of it in each of my books.

When I first started writing fiction set in the Elizabethan era, I looked up the word. I wanted to make sure I was using the historically accurate phrase and action and not just adopting renaissance faire-isms. If you were to Google "reverance," they'd automatically show you results for "reverence."  You have to actually select the small print that says "search instead for reverance" in order to see references to it. They're there, you just have to actually look for them instead of accepting the first Google option that says it's a misspelled word.

I had to fight to keep it in the book and, while it might have been easier to give in to the popular terminology even if they're not right for the period, I'm happy I kept it. I did put due diligence into being true to the era and though I made mistakes, my choice to use use the reverance as the form of polite greeting was not one of them.

Mistakes in Print

Typos happen. The author reads through and gives a clean manuscript to the editor only for the editor to show just now messed up it still is. The author and editor fix the mistakes and it goes to a copy editor who finds even more. Then the galley edits come along and everything should be fixed, right? Nope.

And this is just about story inconsistencies, grammar, and flow.

I am solely responsible for the history and REALLY prided myself in taking that seriously. I researched saint days and weather patterns, period dress and beer recipes... I took the time and felt like a credible source when it came to history. Even if a reader doesn't like my story, at least I could say the history is sound.

When I discovered that I mislabeled Katherine Howard (I called her the third wife of Henry VIII) I cried. It's embarrassing and, regardless of everything I did get right, it completely destroys my credibility. It was something that didn't catch my attention in edits because this is an area of history with which I am ridiculously familiar.  I didn't double check the big facts the same way I, for example, looked at period inheritance law for a peer who was not yet an adult because I trusted myself. In the edits, I didn't notice. This is, perhaps, an example of not seeing the forest for the trees (if cartridge pleating and such are the trees, the Tudor dynasty is the forest).

So let me put this out there:

I hope to republish this title and actively want to fix any errors for the next draft. I'm keeping records as they've come to my attention. If you notice something, tell me. I'll appreciate it, I swear. It will all go to making a better book. You can email me on Goodreads or leave me a comment here on my blog.

Just for fun, here's a graphic from a Horrible Histories book I picked up at Hardwick Hall years ago.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

My Writing Journey

This blog started out about my journey to becoming published. With some slight deviations, my posts have been about my writing, the process, and the industry as I came to know it. During the years my writing has changed (I like to think I've grown) but my goal remained the same. I knew that I would eventually publish a book; all I had to do was remain diligent and work smart.

Now I have published a book. My second book is due to be released in March. This blog, however, will continue to be about my journey because it's certainly not over.

When I first signed that contract I expected to be elated. FINALLY! I thought I'd be proud and confident, that I'd want to celebrate. Instead it was overwhelming. Yes, I got the contract... but what would come next? It was uncharted territory for me. I'd become comfortable with the pattern of rejection and revision, getting back on the horse, and trying again.

I realized that becoming published wasn't the end, it's just a step on the ladder. One race finished and the next started.

So, what's next for me?

1. Continued growth as a writer. I became a better writer with each book. Now I'm writing AND addressing edits. It's a learning process and my editor has been very patient with me as we work out the kinks. I've had trouble with little things like when the form of address is a proper noun and when it's possessive. I'm figuring it out. Eventually it is my goal that I'll get a manuscript back without any basic mistakes and only comments about content. Content adjustments aren't embarrassing. Basic English errors are. As far as my journey goes, this part is very organic and doesn't scare me. As long as I'm open to learning, I will grow.

2. Finding balance as a professional writer. With my book(s) out there, I have a new job: marketing. I need to be writing new material, editing the old, and figuring out how to make connections with  my readers. Being me, I tend to obsess over little things and I need to step back and see the big picture, and organize my efforts in a healthy way. I'm working on it. This part is not easy for me.

3. Finding balance as a human. I'm a mom, a wife, a teacher, an Irish dance mom, a reader, an artist, a puppy-mommy, a dress designer/seamstress, a daughter... I'm a lot of things besides being a writer. I thank God for my husband. He's shouldering some of the weight of marketing/social media. The other day I forwarded him an email and told him my brain was full and I couldn't think about. He took it over with no questions. This is a process I have to figure out.

So the journey is far from over and this blog will continue to follow that journey. Thanks for letting me share it with you.

Sneak Peak at a Deleted Scene

Many things about Courtly Pleasures changed throughout the writing process. The first version started out with a heavy focus on Frances's battle with depression and was written with all dialogue in Elizabethan (BBC style) dialect. I probably cut twenty or so pages of dress description. There was a maidservant named Bessie who's speech was so indecipherable that Frances, Mary, and Jane would just nod and pretend they knew what was being said. There have been a lot of changes, all for the better.

One such change was the removal of Blanche Parry's point of view. I consider her the fairy godmother of Frances's story. Blanche was a real historical character and I did my best to portray her with respect to the accounts of the type of woman she was. Her effigy at Westminster is featured to the left.

I cut this scene from the start of chapter fifteen, the morning after the masque on the river. If you haven't read Courtly Pleasures yet, do not read any more here unless you don't hate spoilers with the fury of a thousand suns like I do.

If you are interested in reading Courtly Pleasures, there is an Amazon link in the right side bar.

Cheers.

Click the "Read more" link below to read the deleted scene from Courtly Pleasures.

The Process from Contract to Publication

I signed my contract in mid-August and received my first round of edits toward the end of September.

The first round of edits was content based. While there were some grammar/punctuation/word choice changes suggested, it was about the smoothness of the read. These came directly from my editor. The comments had to do with going deeper into my main character's points of view, fleshing out scenes, etc... This was the most difficult for me because it addressed my story. It's easy to fix a misspelling, but harder to accept that you missed a critical aspect of the character. That said, it wasn't as emotionally painful as I expected. All the comments made sense and the changes were all toward making it a better story. That round of edits were due in the first part of October, so I had about two weeks to complete them.

I received the second round of edits a week later (mid-October). These were the line edits and dealt mainly with typos, spelling, or grammatical errors. Based on the notes, it seems that there were two line editors who went through the manuscript. Some corrections embarrassed me and some surprised me. I learned a few things about hyphen use but still don't understand why they would delete my ellipses (...) and then replace it with another set of ellipses (I'm assuming it has to do with formatting, but it's still a mystery). Overall, this process was smooth. It was due a week later.

Round three was the galley edits. This is the book, coded for epub and not easy to change at that point. Part of me wanted to write it off as done but I am glad I didn't. I listened to it read aloud and caught so many things that would have been downright embarrassing. After all the pairs of eyes that had gone over the document, there were still issues and it was no longer a document that could be easily fixed. I will never again be critical of minor editing errors in published novels.  Those edits were due the beginning of November and then the galley was made available for professional reviews the next day.

So from the end of September to the beginning of November, Courtly Pleasures went from manuscript to novel. It's out there right now for industry professionals to read and review prior to release. The release date is just over three weeks away.

The whole things was less than three months from the date of the contract. It's been a whirlwind and I'm a little stunned.

Things I've learned:

• I can keep to a deadline.
• That when a an adjective has a modifying word before it, you use a hyphen even if it isn't a regular compound word (inky-black, broad-shouldered).
• To use the read aloud feature during the line edits so the galley version will require little (if any) changes.

Now I have to focus on promotion. This is intimidating because I'm not extroverted at heart (I categorize myself as a friendly introvert) and I'm not a business/marketing expert (but I'll learn). Wish me luck.

As for business/marketing...

Courtly Pleasures is available for pre-order now. 

Click on the image above.

Humility and Pride

I had a great conversation with a student today about balancing pride and humility. I teach art and, though not every person feels pulled to artistic expression, everyone is capable of producing something they're proud of. You have to take the time, be patient with yourself and be mindful. The finished work may not be a master work, but it can be something you step back, look, and say, "I did that!" with pride.

Getting to that point, however, takes humility. Without humility we cannot grow. Humility opens us up to learn new things. I'm not talking about modesty or self-deprecation, but the real understanding that tomorrow can be better if you let it.

I think we get socially trained to be overly modest about accomplishments as if being proud of yourself is wrong. For many people it is difficult to honestly say, "thank you" when you receive a compliment. Many will deflect anything positive with something self-deprecating. I understand that not everyone may not believe positive words about themselves, but they need to give the bestower of the compliment the benefit of the doubt that they believe it, that they are sincere. Shrugging away those kind words is not only rude to yourself, but to them.  It's taking humility too far and making it harmful.

So, from my bounty of wisdom, I'm here to say that you have to balance the humility and pride. Pride alone is unhealthy--as is humility, sin and virtue aside. It's the combination that will lead to growth and self acceptance. This will end up on an inspirational poster someday. Probably with a puppy.

Where the heck is all this coming from?
Well, I'm dealing with positive reinforcement from my publishing house and quelling the urge to point out my flaws and fighting my humility when I should have allowed myself to be proud. I'm also dealing with line edits and finding out rules about grammar/punctuation I didn't know (and I used to teach English!). With the line edits, I had to fight my stubborn pride and absolute belief I was right and learn something new.

Being a Writer

I am just about to send my edited manuscript back. At this point I'm going over it again and again to see if I missed anything and to clean up the new content.

Receiving the edits made the fact that I'm going to be published finally become real. As I work toward applying the edits, I feel like I'm working toward a real goal. It makes it feel like a legitimate job and not something weird I do alone when I have time.

Writing had become almost a burden. If I wasn't writing then I was giving up. If I was writing, it was hard to justify why I was taking the time to write a story when I could be doing productive things like laundry. I had so many stories in my head, but either the story or the writing had some flaw I didn't understand, something about it that made it not viable. It's hard to motivate yourself to write despite that.

I would tell myself that the fact that I started and finished books was an achievement in itself and I didn't need validation from external sources. While I still felt good about what I had accomplished, I must have needed that validation because it was becoming harder and harder to write.

As I do edits for Courtly Pleasures I can see the finish line on this project. It restores my optimism (or insanity) for my writing and my faith in myself. New stories are percolating. Old stories with kinks are resolving themselves.

I'm excited about writing, about being a writer, again. Of course I'm excited about Courtly Pleasures being published but, more than that, I'm excited about the next story and how it might unfold.

Applying Edits

My experience with the first round of edits was...
Scary? No, not once I got the document. The worst part was the anticipation.
Exhilarating? No, it was just a job I had to do.
Insulting? Not at all. There were changes to be made and I made them. I wasn't offended. I suppose I could have been, but the editor always explained her thought process. Hey, it's all about putting the best version of your book out there and that means honest critique and collaboration.

I received a Word doc full of tracked changes and comments. 90% of my job was to accept the deletion/insertion of the tracked changes. This included a format change here, an 's there, an m dash changed to an ellipses, etc... All little things.

The editor also noted story inconsistencies or times when more explanation was needed. A few new scenes requested, a few scenes deleted. Everything she said made sense to me. None of it was insulting to my word baby or my ego. The challenge for me was to hold the history teacher in me in check when I was asked to explain some of the social norms or the roll of nobles and gentry at Queen Elizabeth's court. I had to severely edit myself to address specific questions.

I was nervous about the edits, but they've been smooth. I understand the expectations and that is more cut and dry than trying to write a book in the first place.

The next step is line edits. I like to think it won't be too messy. I'll let you know.

Receiving Edits (alternatively titled: Holy Crap!)

Over the years I have posted blogs about treating every critique like a gift. Whether or not I agree with the critique, the reader took the time to read my manuscript and give feedback. That deserves gratitude, not argument. It took me years to train myself to put this understanding into action. It is a knee jerk response that, when my book baby is threatened, I must defend it.

Here's the thing: if I have to explain why I did x, y, or z to the reader, then it wasn't well done. I won't have the opportunity to pop my head in to where my reader confused by my creative decision and explain that the scene is an example of my heroine as an unreliable narrator. Beside that being super creepy behavior on my part, it is just evidence of bad writing.

Ergo: Critique = Thank you.

But now I'm at that next stage and have an editor (insert little happy dance here).

I'll be getting my first round of content edits within the week and that could mean ANYTHING. I hope my critique=thank you training will come in handy but, more than that, I hope I can be an educated, professional adult with enough sense of self to make this experience a rational one and not take anything personally. Ultimately, any perceived criticism will be coming from the shared goal to make my book successful.

So bring it on, awesome editor, I can take it like a reasonable person and not be crazy. I think. I hope.

via GIPHY

Something New

Today will be my first time attending a creative writing group meeting. I was honored to be invited and really look forward to broadening my experiences here. I have my three copies of ten pages from my current work in progress. I have my layered dip and chips. I'm ready to go.

But I'm seriously nervous. Silly? Maybe. I mean, this is m fifth novel. I'm in RWA and involved in the online writing community. I should know what I'm doing by now, right?

Who knows.

The thing is that this book is different from the others. My others, particularly the historical, were so formal. Yes, I occasionally broke grammar rules for impact, but not a lot. This book, well, all I can say is thank you to Darynda Jones for giving me permission to be snarky.

The first time I wrote a silly deep pov thought, I edited it out right away. Slapping myself for cowardice, I added it once more and kept going. This character is the most real, the most flawed and the most open to love that I've written to day because I am not editing out her stream of consciousness. I love it.

BUT... will the new creative writing group get it? They haven't seen my evolution, so they don't know how hard it was to push myself in this direction. I guess we'll find out today. Besides, all critiques are gifts, right? I don't need them to take me seriously as a writer to know that I am one.

One thing all of my characters have in common is, by the end of their arch, they can find validation from within. I guess I need to work on that. :)

Cheers.

Resubmitting... Maybe? Advice Needed.

Every single project I have completed has ended up with me hacking the first two to three chapters off it. Why? Because I'm the queen of slow starts and back story. I can't seem to help myself. It's sad really.

When I chopped the first two chapters off of Karma, it wasn't enough. It still was too slow. I edited the bejeebers out of it, getting to the action ASAP. It wasn't until months later and a slew of non-responsive agents that I actually reread it with fresh eyes and realized I'd cut the soul out of the story.

One rejection said the story lacked balance. I didn't know what the agent meant until I read it again. Boom, there's action. It's hot, it's creepy... but it doesn't pull you into the story because there is no hint at who the characters are. It was painful to realize, but easier to fix than I'd hoped.

The question is should I resubmit? If the agents who gave me no responses read at all, it was only the first thirty pages. The rest of the book unfolded organically and, I'm happy to say, I'm still really proud of my work. They requested it int he first place, so they saw something in it. The lack of a "no thank you" isn't a de facto rejection, so it wouldn't necessarily be pushy or unprofessional of me to try again. Would it? I have no idea. I don't want to come across as too desperate -- but if the shoe fits...

Help me out, people. Your expert advice is appreciated.

Viewing Your Own Work Objectively

It isn't possible. There. Done. Shortest blog post ever.

Nah, I was just kidding. My point has been made but I'm still going to babble. And, before I begin, let me explain that I am on pain killers for shoulder surgery. Be warned. I am not bi-polar but I play one on TV.

Okay, on point: Objectivity = impossible.  While I'm writing and excited, the book is the best book ever written. I am a GOD!  And then revisions of the first draft begin and I should not be allowed to live, let alone write. When everything is done and I have a clean, finished manuscript I, yet again, become awesome. At this point I usually don't look at it again and move on to the next project.

From time to time I've unearthed one of my previous works for a submission or competition or such. These times are iffy. I could be far enough removed from it to find the cadence of my writing unfamiliar and be pleasantly surprised by a book that (by that point, it's probably been rejected a few times) is obviously terrible. Or maybe it was so close to my heart that it hurts to even read it with the knowledge that it will remain under my bed. I've been through the gamut of reactions with my courtly books.

Possessing Karma was going to be my break out novel. It was edgy, different, super sexy, a little scary... it merged my love of history with my total fear of ghosts and came out awesome. Or at least I thought it was awesome until yesterday when I decided to do a quick once over for Golden Heart.

Things I remember including as part of my voice and my character's deep pov are not there. I must have cut them in favor of brevity or something. Philippe's a nice guy, maybe too nice. Karma's OCD because I say she is, but I don't show it. Damn. I don't know what I did in the final edit, but my work feels soulless and choppy. No wonder it didn't get the response I expected.

I think I may have to set aside Touched in favor of breathing life back into Karma. Either that or I'll read it again tomorrow and be awed by my brilliance.

Trending Now #youaretoolate

You’re already too late to join in the success of the current big thing. Sorry, but that’s how it is. Once you become aware of the current trends, they’re already on the way out. The only hope you have is to somehow be the next trend.  The problem here is that if you aren’t a current trend, you are currently unsellable. If time traveling cowboys aren’t already flying off the shelves, then your time traveling cowboy book is not representable. However, if you have written something based on the hot topic de jour, agents may want it, but by the time it’s on the shelves, readers are bored.

Maybe this is a jaded opinion (no maybe about it, it is). It makes a lot of sense that an agent wouldn’t want something that they don’t foresee making them a profit. I don’t resent this at all – it’s business.  Besides, if the agent is making money, that means the authors are making money and that seems win-win to me. The problem is that the next big thing has to come from somewhere. A book has to actually become published that is outside the proscribed mold in order for readers to make it a phenomenon. This implies that, from time to time, agents and editors take the risk of working outside the box (eitherr that or the author self-publishes successfully and all the agents who told them there was no spot on the bookshelf for them start kicking themselves).

I have to believe that if I write a good book, even if it isn’t trending now, it is worthy of attention. There are readers out there. I have to believe this to keep writing.

I admit that after three unsellable Tudor era romances I jumped ship and wrote a paranormal. Paranormals are hot, right? I had a good story to tell and didn’t feel like I was betraying my historical roots. I looked at trends and saw vampire/shifter market saturation and avoided it. Still, my paranormal wasn’t the right type of paranormal. Looking at trends now, it seems paranormal series is the hot thing. The same protagonists from book to book (Angie Fox, Karen M. Moning, Darynda Jones.) Yes, I very much enjoy these authors, but I also like my stories to end (As much as I love Sylvia Day, I may not read the fourth Crossfire book simply out of a fit of pique that the third book teased me into thinking the story was coming to a conclusion.)  Of course, even if I could bring myself to do this, I’d be too late to jump on this trend.

Do I try to predict the next trend and write to that? Or do I write the stories that demand to be written and trust that, eventually, they will end up accidentally hitting the nail on the head. Who knows? Ultimately, I will just write on, trust my instincts, and let everything unfold how it will.

Do you let trends determine your writing?

Real Life Leading Up To RWA13

In my last “this house is disgusting” episode followed by frantic cleaning, I actually made use of the laundry hamper in my bathroom. Usually I sort loads out on the floor near the hamper, but very rarely put laundry in it and close the lid. I know. The idea is that I’ll wash those loads if they’re in my face. Obviously, it doesn’t always happen in a timely matter. I’m sure you have opinions about this. So does my husband.

The end result was a clean room and laundry that was out of sight, out of mind. Life went on, but without my

comfortable, functional underwear. For two weeks of I’ve been wearing and laundering the impractical, special occasion items that do not do well on muggy days or at the gym.

Today, after I cleared away the shoe boxes that somehow ended up stacked on top of the closed laundry hamper, I discovered a hidden stash of clothes. Happy Underwear Christmas! It was with a sense of relief that I closed the door on my washer and turned it on.  Tonight I will wear cotton! Thank God.

I’m in the home stretch of laundry, dry cleaning, and shopping in preparation for Romance Writers of America 2013 conference in Atlanta. The conference clothes are occupying a different section of my closet than my every day wear and, now that I see everything together, I realize I have more than I need. Even so, chances are good I may buy a grey blazer tomorrow. I have my travel size items and my packing cubes just arrived today. Very exciting. Thank you, Erin Knightley.

Amidst all of this hoopla I’m still writing forward in Touching the Past and applying beta reader edits to Possessing Karma. Last year I approached the conference with a desperate optimism. This year, upon last year’s lack of results, I’m a little more relaxed about the process and I hope that translates into real confidence rather than forced exuberance (“I know my writing’s good” vs. “LIKE ME!”).

We shall see. As for now I’m looking forward to underwear.

I Have Been Judged

Have you ever judged a writing contest? I have not, but I have been judged. Oh yes, judged and found lacking. I have also been judged and found brilliant. Oddly, it was the same manuscript in the same contest.

I like what I like. I buy books I know that I'm already predisposed to like. Recently I made a foray into horror/thriller and found that I do not like it. I like aspects, but the gore is over the top and doesn't further the story for me. If I was a horror reader by nature, maybe I'd find that gore necessary as much as sex is in romance (disclaimer: I think gore in horror and sex in romance has its place, but can be gratuitous -- this is my main objection).

What I find unfortunate about the judging process is that the judges of writing competitions are generally not allowed to judge within their own genre. I write historical. People who enjoy my stories enjoy historical settings and, generally, understand aspects about the history already. For a judge who does not read and enjoy historical to read and judge it seems out of place. The same goes, perhaps even more so, for paranormal. People who are just unable to suspend disbelief for the supernatural will not enjoy the reading experience if they're judging a paranormal manuscript. They're predisposed not to like it.

Because of this, one of the scores I pay most attention to is about the writing itself. You don't have to like the genre to recognize a well written work. Usually the scores on the quality of writing are consistent across the panel of judges.

This brings me to the reason for this blog. I just got my Golden Heart score sheets (RWA: thank you for the change, by the way. I love that it breaks it down.) In one book, I got scored a 9/10 and a 10/10 for the quality of writing. I also scored a 5/10. Huh? I understand stylistic differences or just not enjoying a writer's voice, but 5/10 makes me think I need a refresher course in sentence structure. How does one judge give something a perfect score, and the other fail it completely? It blew my mind. I don't know how to address it. My fragile self esteem makes me more likely to dismiss the high scores as a fluke rather than the low score. People have all sorts of opinions about story, character, etc... and I can allow for differences there, but if I just can't write paragraphs cohesively this is a huge problem.

Disclaimer: This is not a complaint, it's a reaction. I am very grateful for the judges who took the time to read my manuscript and give feedback.

I'm left with an unclear course of action (if any). Even more so, I'm left unsure about my own abilities. Don't worry; I'm not fishing for complements or in need of hugs. I'm fine -- I just need to step away for a moment and try to look at things objectively. In the mean time...

Being a Hater

Today I'm being a hater, but not in regard to ethnic groups, religious freedom, or in respect to the definition of marriage. Today, specifically, I hate two things: skinny jeans and the word "suddenly."

Issue #1: I have worn corsets before. When you squeeze a fleshy body into a corset, the excess skin puddles out the top and the bottom as the torso takes on the shape of the desired silhouette. This is what is supposed to happen. If you've got extra girth, you will end up with bosom and back cleavage. You may also have abdominal cleavage -- which isn't pretty. Luckily everything below the waist is disguised by skirting.

This is not the case in skinny jeans. The laws of physics still apply. Ladies, just because you can button them up does not mean they fit. The jean is designed to create a specific silhouette for your leg/but/hips, but if there is any extra girth, it will puddle out at the closest exit -- the waist. It's really, really unattractive. There is not enough blousing in the world to disguise the belly rolls. You're not fooling anyone. It's not a good style if you have any body fat. Please, take an objective look at yourself in the mirror. Just because it's in style doesn't mean you should wear them.

Skinny jeans can be equally wrong on gentlemen. Years ago, men stopped paying attention to the natural waist line in favor of sagging. Now there are two generations of men out there, some wearing skinny jeans, that don't know that trouser waist bands belong closer to the belly button than the anus. Skinny jeans are not for everyone, so that alone is a problem amongst those who wear them without consideration of whether or not they should, but to then sag them creates a backside silhouette of a fully loaded baby diaper. It's just wrong. Please, take a look at yourself in the mirror before you leave the house. Please.

Issue #2: Many people say that use of adverbs in genre fiction makes a lazy writer. Instead of modifying your verb, choose a stronger verb. I agree with this sometimes. When I am critiquing someone's work, I do not automatically cross out every word that ends in 'ly.' I may comment if there is adverb over-kill, but I try not to edit the author's voice so much as their content.

That said, I will cross out every single "suddenly" I see. Usually the word is inserted to get the effect of surprise, being caught off guard. The problem there is that the word takes all that away. The bat swooping into the woman's face is much more sudden if it just happens, with the warning word of "suddenly." I really hate the word. I sigh when I see it in published books. I cross it out and recommend alternatives when I see it in something I'm editing. When I find myself using it, I slap myself and delete it quickly (adverb) before anyone can see. Lesson of the day: if you have to include the word "suddenly" (or "all of a sudden"), you have just made the scene not so sudden. Don't do it.

Okay, so that's my hating rant for the day. What do you hate?

Damn You, Passive Language!

I write in past perfect, third person alternating. I don't know why I decided to do this when I started writing. It wasn't a conscious decision. I assume I was influenced, unknowingly, by gender norms. Most historical romance is written in past perfect, third person. (A recent exception - Keeping the Castle by Patricia Kindl. I recommend it to anyone. A joy to read).

My poor critique partner, Raquel Byrnes, is a trooper when it comes to slapping me regarding passive language. She writes first person present Romantic Suspense and her scenes are active. Of course, I don't have car chases, drug cartels, or hurricanes (Hurricane Erin is coming soon in Bayou Blue, the third Shades of Hope books-- Raquel is awesome) but my story still needs to have a driving pace. Actually, what I have that she doesn't is sex (that's a no-no in Inspiration genre norms). It's hard for a sex scene to feel intense when it's full of had, and then, that, and was.

Ridiculously passive and awkward: He was aroused by her, so he had bent her over the railing.
Active: Aroused, he bent her over the railing.

Yes, I know, that was tacky. I was proving a point. Plus, I never claimed to be classy. Just know that it could have been worse -- much worse.

Right now Raquel is helping me fine tune the start of Possessing Karma. This last critique I received from her was full of yellow highlighted 'had.' Earlier I said she slapped me because that's what it feels like; seeing a page full of yellow squared is really an eye opener. I have to reprogram myself or something.  Thank God for Raquel.

I would say passive language is my biggest challenge -- besides procrastination.

What is your Achilles heel of writing?

Note to Self: I am an Alto

This blog post is more of a ramble. Just remember, you chose to read it.

I should be getting my clearance to return to work later this afternoon. If all goes well, I’ll be back with my class of adolescents on Monday. It’s crazy, but I’m looking forward to it. I also should be getting a handicap placard (which I will not abuse).

Things have been funky for me since the incredibly stupid injury. I have slept a lot more than is probably healthy. I have developed a tendre for Vampire Diaries. I have finished Courtly Abandon and begun round one of edits prior to beta readers. I have lost all muscle tone in my left leg, but my right calf still has some definition. I find it easier to cry lately (Damon killed Rose, I was a blubbering mess). I am enamored with making cupcakes. I’ve gotten better about answering my phone and responding to texts in a timely manner. I did not get to do faire this year, but I have some designs for next year’s dress.

Today, I went out for coffee (green tea latte w/almond milk, actually) with a friend. I drove myself. I even stopped to get gas after. Look at me being all independent and not housebound! In the car I listened to the original Broadway cast soundtrack of Phantom of the Opera. A big part of me still loves it like I did in high school. A little part of me recognizes how dated it is. Then there is that tingly sensation I get with the soaring of the strings inMusic of the Night, and I stop being nit-picky. Let your soul take you were you long to beeeeeeeee! It gives me chills (even though I'm critical of ending such a powerful note on such an insipid word).

As soon as I came home I dusted off the piano and found my sheet music. My sight reading is no longer what it was, but the muscle memory was there from all those years ago. I have confirmed that I’m still not a soprano (although now I have the guts to just go for it, I don’t care if the neighbors hear) and that I really love playing. Maybe I’ll tune my harp next and give it a go. Who knows?

But for now, I’m blogging to warm up, then jumping back into Courtly Abandon edits. Playing was a great creative stimulus and I’m amped. I just have to remember that Percy, my mc, has been cast as Hugh Dancy. I will NOT rewrite him to look like Ian Somerhalder. Hazel eyes, not icy blue. Must remember.

Thanks for reading. I hope you have a wonderful day.

Just for fun, here’s my current desktop wallpaper, for inspiration’s sake.

Start the Story Where the Story Starts

pic by Steve Ohlsen

In my first book, the first three chapters dealt with backstory and the main character's post-partum depression. She finally got to London in chapter four, and we met the hero for the first time in chapter five. It's my love child and I've tried to right by it, but the book, in its entirety, will never be published.

My second book, chapters one and two were character growth. Yes, there was action and dialogue, but the story didn't really start until chapter three. Solution? I cut out chapters one and two. It hurt, but it was necessary -- like deadheading.

By my third book you'd think I knew what I was doing, right? I started with action and some humor, then some snappy dialogue and set up the love triangle. Problem: I spent a lot of face time on the guy she was not going to end up with. I also, since it was book three, gave too much time to the characters featured in books one and two. Yet again, we do not meet our hero until chapter three, which is when the story starts. Chop. Chapters one and two, gone.

I am currently reading through a story for a friend. The first fifty pages are so are character development and back-story. When I finally give my critique, it will be to start the story where the story starts -- something I obviously struggle with.

I like to think that someday I'll learn from my mistakes. 

So, without further ado, here is the NEW first 1000ish of Courtly Abandon. If you take the time to read, please let me know if you get a sense of the time/place, who the main character is, and a feeling for where the story is going. Most importantly, where you hooked?

If being ladylike meant wearing corsets everyday, Jane would just have to suffer through it. Even in one of her less ornate courtly gowns– a wool dress more suited to her station, she had to wear the full ensemble complete with corset, bumroll, and farthingale. Given the confines of fashion, this was as comfortable as it was going to be. At least the wool was fine and the moss green dye was even and smooth. Of all the gowns she bought at court, this was the plainest, but even this one was trimmed in dark green velvet. It seemed silly to get done up for a dance lesson but if she wanted to get used to movement in courtly gowns, she had to actually wear them regularly.

She locked her chamber door behind her, tucked the key into her bosom, and practiced walking gracefully down the corridor. She imagined herself gliding, her hem just dusting the floor. Instead her legs became the clapper for the bell of her skirts. If she bent her knees a little with each step and tucked her hips forward, her skirts did not sway so much. Walking like this must make her at least an inch or two shorter – at barely an inch over five foot, she did not have much height to spare. If being a lady meant shrinking, she wasn’t sure if it was worth it. Cursing at her self-defeating attitude, she continued to put one awkward foot in front of the other. The woven rush mat covering the floorboards seemed to go on forever.

“Mistress Jane!”

The high squeal was the only warning she had before little Elizabeth LeSieur barreled into her arms. Luckily, Jane’s somewhat crouched walk gave her the stability not to fall flat on her back. Jane settled herself and shook out her skirts to fix the hem while Elizabeth babbled excitedly.

“Elizabeth, what has gotten into you?”

She was gyrating in place. “Mother has brought in a new tutor. He is a gentleman and able to give dance instruction!” She twirled once more and her ribbon slipped off the end of her braid.

Jane picked up the ribbon and gestured Elizabeth to stand before her. “You have had dance lessons for years.” She re-plaited the errant strands and fastened the ribbon.

“Yes, but only in country and French. The French dances are so boring. These new ones, the Italianate ones, those are what the ladies do at court.” Elizabeth did a series of mock steps in a circle that was probably intended to look courtly. “Mama says if I am to be a lady, I must know the dances. She told me to make sure you joined in – that you need the practice.”

Jane groaned inwardly. She’d had that same lecture from Frances, herself.

“Well then, let us march forth and meet our fate.” Jane took Elizabeth by the hand as they reached the stairwell. “Today we shall both continue on our quest to become proper ladies.”

Elizabeth giggled and hopped down the steps, two feet at a time. “Oh Mistress Jane, you cannot be a lady. You are my friend.”

“You have no idea how correct you are.” Jane smiled as she stepped onto the landing of the second floor and crossed the broad balcony to turn and head down to the first floor. Midday light poured through the long, narrow windows, sending shafts of sunlight to guide their way to the main hall.

The hall was at the center of the great home. It served as a banquet hall, a ballroom, and for tenant meetings with the magistrate of the shire, Master LeSieur. The polished oak floors were usually covered in braided rush mats, but in honor of the dancing lessons a quarter of the room had been cleared. For the first time, Jane saw how Holme LeSieur could indeed host visiting nobility. Perhaps Frances’ house party idea would be a great success.

“Ladies, pray sit you down. The fiddler will be joining us anon.”

At the sound of his voice, Jane’s eyes flew to the young man sitting by the massive fire place. He rose and walked toward them, as proper as a gentleman scholar should be. Stopping to reverence, he met her eye without any sign of recognition.

 “Mistress Radclyffe, I am Master Percy Mortimer. I will serve to tutor you in dancing for these next weeks.”

Jane stood rooted to the floor, her heart pounding in her throat. Percy was here! She swallowed and remembered to breathe. Somehow she found the presence of mind to respond. “God give you good den, Master Percy.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What would you have of us?”

He directed them to sit on the chaise before the fire and began talking about something. Dancing.

God’s blood, what was Percy doing here? Why hadn’t anyone told her he was here? Why hadn’t he sought her out?

She sat in stunned silence, just staring at him while he continued his discussion about… French bransles. How could he talk about dancing at a time like this? He had changed so much; he was bigger now – a man. Still, with those thick sandy lashes and the serious set to his jaw, she would recognize him anywhere. She had not seen him since her marriage four years ago, since they day he told her he loved her…

How could he talk about dancing at a time like this?

Well, he was the LeSieur’s tutor – he was doing his job. Wait, why had he become a tutor?

“Mistress Radclyffe, are you well?”

Jane looked up into Percy’s heavy lidded, hazel eyes. His face was so close, she wanted to reach out and drag her fingertips across the hint of shadow on his chin, down his neck, beneath his proper pleated collar. His tawny curls, tied back, secure under his velvet cap, showed no hint of sun kiss they way they used to. He had always been serious when it came to scholarship, but the intensity in his eyes made her step back. After all these years, and here he was.

           She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry.
Thank you for reading and I look forward to your comments.