Consent in Romantic Fiction

Romance is ultimately about two people finding love against all odds and living happily ever after. That has been consistently true throughout the evolution of the genre.

What has changed is the idea of what is sexy. I'm going to go out on a limb here and make a blanket statement that assault is not sexy.

The alpha male was the ideal romantic character. Add the Byronic, emotionally-damaged element and he was the man a reader could fantasize about healing. He was physically powerful, sexually more-than-proficient, and unreachable... until that one special woman healed him with love. One problem with this is the fantasy that a good woman could change a man. Another problem is that he usually was so sexually overwhelming that the woman couldn't help herself.

One theory for this standard in romance (60-70s) was the idea that a woman was not empowered to say yes. If she wanted a sexual experience, that made her dirty. The pseudo-rape by the alpha male took her accountability away. She said no, but her body said yes. Wait, did I say pseudo-rape? How understated of me.

Another theory for the alpha-male fantasy was, as women became expected to be the super-executive+super mom in the 80s-90s, they fantasized about not having to be in control of everything. The idea of being taken, of ceding control, was a fantasy for a different reason than worrying about being considered immoral; it was backlash about being asked to be too much all at once. These books are borderline rape-fantasy books. The first explicit romance novel I read, when I think back on it, removed all sexual agency from the heroine. It's sad that this is what started my own evolution and is still there, hovering in my subconscious, tainting my understanding of self with guilt and shame. Good times.

My point:

Romance norms have changed drastically in the last ten years. The alpha is still there, but he's more emotionally available and has respect for women. He listens when she says no, or wait. He doesn't bully his way through. It is a relationship of equals and of equal choice. It's awesome. 

I recently have been going through a well-known author's backlog of books (I do that, find an author I like and read everything by them). I'm back about ten years and came across a seduction scene that made me cringe. It was the alpha male asserting himself and seducing the unwilling heroine with a searing kiss. Unwilling. The minute she said stop, don't touch me, that should have ENDED THE SCENE. The fact that he continued made me instantly hate him. She. Said. No. No means no, m*th*rf*ck*r. The book did not get worse along those lines, but he was already ruined. He was probably intended to be an alpha-male, but I saw a bully and could not get past that. He punished her with pleasure. Yuck.

The 2nd book in that series involved the man's twin brother.  He was confident and funny. He was in no way a pushover, but when said enough, he stopped with no questions asked. That was respect. Super sexy respect. He may be my new book boyfriend.

I felt like these books represented the shift in expectations within the community of romance readers. Book 2 was published in 2010.

After looking into this I checked on another author  I like (I had done much the same thing as I went through all of her romantic suspense and then backtracked into her historical series). All her current books have respectful relationships with give and take instead of just taking. However, her historical novels meet the standard of the alpha male. When did this change? 2009.

I did not start this blog post as a treatise on the evolution of romance. I wanted to point out the changing values when it comes to a woman's sexuality. Romance mirrors the reader's romantic fantasies and is a reasonable way to look at how generations of readers view their own role in sexual interactions. The changing dynamic of seduction in romantic fiction tells me that readers respond to consensual interactions. The beta-man used to be the alpha's side-kick, but now he's the more desirable partner. He listens.

All of the romantic heroes I write would have, 20 years ago, been considered the beta side-kick to a more dominant alpha. I write about a couple finding each other. She is not his property. He does not belong to her... they belong together. You cannot get that partnership without equality and there can be no equality without consent in the relationship. That said, I just wrote a scene where he tells her to wait, that he's not ready... and I vacillated on whether or not she would listen or power through, seducing him. OF COURSE she waited. She listened. They couldn't be equals if she didn't. No double standards.

Have you noticed a change in the way relationships are written in romantic fiction? What do you think spurred this change? I am interested in your answers.

Note: I do not "cancel" authors who do not meet my ethical standards. If I don't want to read them, I don't. Easy. Standards have changed over the years. The first book I mentioned  that had the alpha-male, I know that to be a product of the system and the era. Had I read it when it was first published, I may not have even noticed the problem. I did not mention author names because I do not want to contribute to any do-not-read lists. They are good authors who continue to produce good books. When I read scenes in older books, I may think to myself that it wouldn't be published today... but neither would many books and movies we think of as classics.

Extended Imaginary Epilogue

Courtly Scandals is set over the twelve days of Christmas. This means Mary and Charles have twelve days to find their happily ever after. While the fates (me) put them in the position to find each other and have a common goal binding them, it's hard to pave the way for them to have a viable future. Sex is easy (although it's something I have difficulty writing, especially with my kids not respecting the fact that I REALLY am working right now), it's the possibilities of what will come next that is really tricky.

I like to see the potential for success in their relationship. Marriage is tricky and the infatuation based love that comes from our innate instinct to mate and reproduce, is not a long lasting condition. This means the couple has to be able to be friends and have similar values when it comes to fidelity, honor, and the willingness to work on staying in love. This is why I have trouble suspending disbelief for the tropes of the maiden and the rake, especially if there is a broad age difference.

Personally, I write beta males that can be alpha when needed. Don't get me wrong, they're confident, strong, attractive, and smart but they are not pushy. While the man who takes what is his can be sexy in an escapist fantasy, I want a man who listens and respects the woman he loves. That sort of man would never push a woman to the point where, even though she was saying no, her body was saying yes. He would never steamroll over her dreams. It's not just about consent, it's about trust and friendship. I have a hard time visualizing alpha males being true partners as parents or supporting their wife while she deals with depression or what-have-you. The alpha is so set as himself that it would be hard to grow and change with his partner.

While I do write epilogues that give the flavor of what comes next, it would be fun to do something ten or twenty years down the road. Julia Quinn re-released some of her books with extended epilogues and I bought them even though I owned the originals (and loved them). I love seeing what happens next. Romance is so full of potential and hope--it helps promote faith in humanity to see that potential realized. Love can work if you work it and, I think, my characters can stand the test of time. For all that romance is fantasy, it's a good model for life and can help guide good choices for big decisions, even if it's not easy. There's a quote on Julia Quinn's page that says:

“In some ways, portraying a 

healthy relationship in literature

 is the most revolutionary 

thing you can do.” 

—Julia Quinn

When you read romance do you think about what comes next?

Accepting the Changing (already changed, actually, years ago) Publishing Industry

Today's blog was inspired by the Debut Author's page of the monthly RWR magazine. I've been watching it for years and, though I haven't compiled the data into a cool pie chart or anything (I should, but I'll bet RWA have this information already) it looks like the larger percentage of debut authors publish independently and the very few that have publishers are with a small, boutique press. This confirmed what I already knew, that not only did e-readers change the publishing industry, they changed publishing houses need to risk investing in untried writers.

This is not new news.

That said, I've had a hard time adapting my own expectations of the road to publication. I started out with my query letters to agents and the few big names that accepted unagented submissions. I pictured my novels on the shelves at Barnes and Noble. I'm not a total dinosaur, so most of my queries were sent via e-mail, but when I first started some agents still required hard copies. This was ten(ish) years ago.

Now, when it comes to the querying, most agents and publishers have an online submission process. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Convenience aside, it is symbolic of their hands-off approach to new submissions. It's probably much easier to dismiss a file than pile of pages that was carefully prepared to specifications.

I've really struggled with the fact that the big publishers do not accept debut authors. It seems like the industry expects and WANTS authors to self publish first.This really messed with my long term plan and it's taken me awhile to come to grips with the change. I hate it, but have to get over myself and work within these parameters.

Besides, the change makes sense. It's like that job at McDonald's that you had during high school so you could show work experience as you interviewed your way up the employment ladder. An example from the genre would be the well loved trope of the reformed rogue who's been around the block and knows what to do in bed. You rarely see a virginal hero in romance and, I guess, publishers don't want a virgin author either. Self published authors have sales numbers, reviews, a readership waiting so when the publisher picks them up, they're a sure thing. It cuts down on the risk of investing in a newbie.

I have pitched to a few boutique publishers that are simply a label away from being self-published. They'll provide you with editing and a cover, but you do all the marketing. It may be worth it to some rather than pay the roughly $500 it will cost for professional editing and an okay cover, but to me, the only good thing about self publishing is lost in this deal--autonomy.

My biggest hurdle in choosing the self-pub route (and I still haven't committed to it) is that I really need the validation that acceptance by an agent/publisher provides. There are so, so, so many poor quality books and I'm afraid to join their ranks. If my books are not good enough for a publisher to stand behind, they're not ready for publication.

The good news (for authors like me) is that most of the major publishers have smaller, niche imprints that publish in e-only. This removes the risk of investing in a print run, but still offers the professional editing/cover/marketing services of a major publisher. This route won't put me in a brick and mortar book store, but it's a step in the right direction and will save me from myself and the possibility of putting a low-quality book out there with my name on it.

Of course, I am warming up to self publishing. I'm really almost there. It's only taken a bunch of near misses to make me feel my books might be good enough combined with hundreds of flat out rejections that have made me tired of playing the game. I'm even at that point where I waste time looking up book cover art.

I am currently waiting on a yea or nay from another interested party. I'm not optimistic, but must have some hope or I'd be more invested in the steps toward self-publishing. I am getting myself ready for that eventuality because pitching has become something like banging my head against a wall and, really, I should be writing.

I will finish up this post by telling you that accepting self-publishing as a viable option has really freed my writing. I'm not writing to anyone's formula. I can tell an authentic story without bending it to meet genre norms ( I wrote a virgin hero and I'm not worried about it).

If you are interested, here is a link to data compiled for RWA 2016 showing trends in sales. It may just be my translation, but the data really promotes self-publishing.  

Not the Usual Entrance

I'm blogging when I should be sleeping off the anesthesia. Good idea? Probably not. But I'm moved to blog and therefore I should.

I had (TMI warning) a colonoscopy today. It was Karma's way of teaching me a lesson. You see my mother gets a colonoscopy about once a month and when she's not being probed, she's thinking about it, scheduling it, prepping for it, or talking about it. As a result I took to writing it down for her randomly on her home calendar and white board whenever I visit. So, here I am at thirty-nine having a colonoscopy while fate points a finger and says, "Ha. Ha."

What does this have to do with writing? Romance?

Well... romance.

The backdoor is slowly becoming a plausible source for penetration in mainstream romance. Not my cup-o-tea, personally. Seriously, never going to happen. Never going to write about it happening between a man and a woman as if it's something sexy. Maybe I'm not open minded enough or whatever, doesn't matter. Exit only. Thank you. My opinion.

The first book I read that included anal sex caught me by surprise. First I thought he was just being messy with the oils, then overly cautious when he donned two condoms. But when the hero entered the heroine from "not the usual place" I had to reread a couple times to make sure I understood. I can't remember the title or author and my Google searches gave me nothing. The story involved a woman pretending to be a gypsy psychic while she scammed the haut ton in order to get vengeance against the family that wronged her. The leading man forcefully seduces her (not rapey enough for me to shut the book then and there -- no means no) and then BAM, in the butt. I'll be she was surprised. I certainly was.

Since then, with the rise of romantica as a sub-genre, I've read it multiple times. Usually the author handles it well and since I'm invested in the story of the characters, the fact that I find the act off-putting is irrelevant to the overall story. Lady Chatterly's Lover, one of my favorite books, includes it (I was just too unwordly to understand what "the Italian way" meant when I first read it), but the story is about so much more than sex that even now that I know it doesn't detract. The entire story is about finding that "connexion," and though the sexual content is prominent it's really just part of that process. I think all successful romances use sex as a way to further the character's emotional growth and, in that, can go to all sorts of lengths as long as it's consistent with the characters. This is why, to me, Sylvia Day's Crossfire series doesn't come across as abusive while Fifty Shades does.


What do you think about the broadening scope of sexuality within the romance genre?

Out of My Comfort Zone

I'm writing a contemporary romance.My first love in writing is historical. I branched into paranormal, but I didn't leave historical far behind. In fact, even though my paranormals are set in modern times, history plays a huge roll.

Not so with contemporary. Previously known as Chick Lit, contemporary is traditionally set in a small, Americana, town full of quirky characters. The main characters are either coming home, reinventing themselves somewhere new, or long time residents stuck in a rut. This can be either the male or the female. Then the love interest arrives. Attraction and conflict ensue. Character arch involves personal growth, forgiveness, etc... then happily ever after. There isn't usually an external stake. The internal stakes are all about the main characters finding happiness.

The current hot trend in male love interest is the emotionally unavailable tycoon, and why not? The unlimited money really leaves a lot of options as much as having the hero in a historical be a Duke. So, yes, I'm going there. My only concern is that I don't generally write 100% alphas. Why? I don't respond positively to them (maybe this is why I'm not published?). I like balance in the relationship and all my books include the heroine discovering she is worthy of love and wielding her own power in a relationship of equals. And, as the unnecessary trolls in Frozen said, everyone is a bit of a fixer upper. I don't write perfect people.

My contemporary will not include perfect people either, but it will be in a small town brimming with quirkiness (I can do that). My hero is super rich and super hot, of course. My heroine is established in her own right. Both have given up on love. He misjudges her place in life as lack of sophistication. She misjudges his place based on being a cold bastard. Then they get over themselves, actually communicate, and, viola! HEA. I'm even including a puppy.

I can do this. I know what I'm going to write and I can write it. I have to keep saying it and then I'll believe it.  I know it doesn't sound like a challenge and it shouldn't be, but I'm working outside my purview. I'm putting my Irish paranormal on the back burner to write this one, not because the muses told me to, but because it would be good for my career. I always told myself that any agent would be lucky to have me because I am capable of writing anything. You tell me what you need and I'll write it. Well, now is the time to prove it. Use it or lose it. Put my money where my mouth is. Look a gift horse in the mouth. Eat yellow snow. Or something.

Wish me luck. I'm only 2k into it  (aiming at 80) and need to write like the wind.

Judging

If you'd ask me last month how to get inspired about getting housework done, I'd have told you writing. Not in-the-zone writing, but the kind where you force yourself to sit and stare and reread and type filler to get from point A to point B. You know, the writing that you'll end up deleting next time.

I was wrong. Writing is a great way to get excited about housework, but if you really want to get inspired to scrub things that no one sees anyway, judge a contest. That will get your cleaning motors running. I'm a machine, I tell you!

The good news is that I am plugging through the contest. It's a little awkward because these authors are all just like me - they have a finished book (or four) and are trying to get their work out there. Some submissions have great bones but poor finishing. Some are excellently written but I can't seem to get into the characters. Some draw me in right away... Really, it's just like reading anything -- absolutely subjective to my interests and whims (not counting the poor editing that pulls me right out of a story that might be great).  Being a judge doesn't make me more objective, it just makes me not give up.

Judging has also made me wonder about previous (and current) contests in which I've participated. Are they all judged by schlubbs like me? I mean, what makes my wisdom all that and a can of Coke? Nothing. I'm just another writer plugging away toward my word count and crossing various appendages with the hope that someday, SOMEDAY, it will all pan out. Sigh.

On that note, I can only hope that the people who judge my submissions to various contests give me the attention and honesty I'm giving the submissions in my packet. I may not be the reader that will give them the push they need to get into the world of publication, but I will be thoughtful and apply opinions based on my experiences in this crazy world of writing.

And I will do some more dishes. Who knew the grout around my sink was actually cream colored? I always thought it was brown.

Where's the Love?

I'm 20k into my current project and it feels stagnant. I've brought the story forward, outlined as much as someone like me can, and yet it's not a growing story. I couldn't put my finger on the problem, so just kept writing forward. I knew something was wrong with the meat of what I'd written so far -- that's been the case every time my writing sort of devolved into rambling, but I had no idea what to fix.

I was meeting with my fabulous critique partner going over scenes that I will undoubtedly cut in the final draft because they don't further the story, when she asked when Gillian and Liam were going to get together.

Ummmm... eventually?

WRONG ANSWER. And thus, I discovered the fatal flaw of my work in progress. I wasn't writing a romance. I was writing an interesting story about sentient trees and elemental powers with some romance sauce. Every other story* I've written started with the romance and the story built around it. Touching the Past started with the forest and the idea of coming home at last. The spark was missing and that wasn't something I could just build up in a well placed sentence here and there.

This week I've been starting over again and it hurts. After many starts and stops, yesterday I finally started making progress and the tension in my shoulders relaxed. I'll be able to use a lot of what I've written so far, but it's a new story. I had to revise Gillian's history entirely, create new personal conflict, and reexamine the woman life has made her and the way Liam will respond. A lot of work, but it will be a much better story in the long run. I'm just glad I was able to figure it out now before wasting more time writing in the wrong direction.



*With exception of my under-the-bed book, Courtly Love, which was more writing therapy about depression.

Something You Can Trust

It seemed like all the events in the news this past year were aimed at rattling my faith in humanity (egocentric
much, Erin?). From citizens needing protection from the police, the Catholic Church more worried about its reputation than the congregation, teachers taking advantage of their position with students, even the highest offices in this country more interested in popularity than the good of America -- it all becomes too much sometimes. Who do you turn to when you can't trust anyone?

My easy escape is into a romance novel.  It's a place where men are honorable. Where love is important and family is everything. You are guaranteed laughter and tears. Happily ever after happens. Good is rewarded, bad is punished. Everything is right with the world. This is why I started reading romance in the first place. Real life has enough crap in it -- why read something that would make me feel even more hopelessness, helplessness?  Of course there is conflict in romances too, some more than others, but at the end everyone comes to their senses. Where does that happen in real life?

Even if people just read romance for the sex, at least they're reading about encounters where the physical is an expression of love. The couples cherish each other despite flaws or uncertainty. Sex is an extension of an emotional journey, not a drunk hook up at a bar or as result of low self esteem. It can be passionate and erotic, yes, but more than that: it's two people finding each other with a promise of forever.

You may say it's not realistic -- but the characters in a well written romance can be as real and inspiring as the most lauded literature, only I know when I finish the last page it will be with a smile and sense of emotional well-being. There's enough turmoil and sadness everywhere else. 

Self Deprecation at its Finest

I just started, really started, my contemporary paranormal romance with suspense sauce. They get down and dirty within the first fifteen pages. Too quickly, you may ask? No, because they’re possessed by ghosts. It’s all good. Don’t worry, they’ll actually have honest and meaningful sex around the appropriate time – say page 125ish. And yes, it will be emotionally significant to their character arcs.

Karma, aka Kay, is an ethnic mutt newly moved to New Orleans to teach religious studies at Tulane. She is newly out of the life of professional student and is playing house. Unfortunately her house is haunted. You’d think as a scholar of religious studies that she’d be open to that stuff, but no – she thinks of mystical explanations as a crutch for humanity. Lucky for the readers, the ghosts are horny. Lucky for Kay (I have cast Halle Berry, but with blue eyes), her neighbor and chainsaw artist, is hot (Joe Manganiello). Yes, I have been watching True Blood and Saw Dogs.

In other news, Courtly Abandon edits w/beta readers are going well. No one has been turned off by my hero’s virginity, although one commented that the scene were he was trying not to, umm, spend, in his pants, hinted at sexual dysfunction. Changing that. Otherwise, my incredibly well bathed Elizabethans finding love amidst adversity has been well received.

Sometimes I enjoy laughing at myself. Sometimes I don’t. Right now I’m in the process of trying to finesse my queries. In doing so, I’m trying to step back and look at the big picture. What are my stories really about? This morning, this process has resulted in my laughing at myself. A lot. I’m frustrated with some of the cliché necessities of genre fiction, even though I’m confident that I addressed them professionally and made them an organic part of my stories. I like to think that I own the fact that I write romance. I am unashamed, proud even – but then I find myself highlighting all the steamy scenes to make sure there are enough and that they’re well balanced and I get a little sad. But then I read a romance and it lightens my day. I have to remember that, whenever I think of myself as tawdry, that I’m writing what I love, what many readers will love. Romance offers that silver lining and any negative thoughts I have about it stem from external sources. Take that, world!

Here I am writing my fourth book about stunningly beautiful people with baggage. Lucky for them I’m here to help them get past their issues and realize that love is worth it and that they are worthy of happiness. So, watch out Karma and Philippe, I’m about to rock your world way more than the ghosts of the wealthy plantation owner and his Creole mistress ever could. Just ask Jane and Percy, or Mary and Charles, or Frances and Henry.

Virginity continued

This was not the post I originally had planned for today, but after watching the Glee episode about first times, I was inspired to comment.

Sex, when you break it down to basics, a mammalian coupling. It's a basic urge that is necessary for the perpetuation of the species. Being human and so much more advanced than mere animals (I have talked to several young people in my life that did not believe me when I said humans were mammals) we have complicated the issue. A lot. It's not just a matter of urge fulfillment, it has a lot of meaning applied.

I'm not saying sex should not have meaning and we should just go around sans pants and procreate whenever the need strikes. I am saying that it's not just a simple coupling. Even if you want it just to be a simple physical act, it's not. There are two people involved and who knows what's going on in the other person's head. It's complicated.

People counsel young adults to wait until they're emotionally mature enough to deal with the aftermath. If you freak out at the thought that someone may have a memory of you naked and making silly faces, you're not ready. If bodily fluid is disgusting and you don't like to be touched, you're not ready. Why? Because society has created a standard for living that involve cultural norms like personal space and expected levels of hygiene. We do not respond well to natural scents and are so insecure that we are constantly pitting our own image against an unachievable standard of beauty. And, thank you Christianity, we are guilt based. Afterward there is sure to be the worry about having made a mistake.

I repeat - it's complicated.

To do it or not to do it, that is such a big question. Life changing. But only because of the importance we put on it. I wish I could forget that formative first time, but it's there in my memory making me wince. In the romance genre, it's all about that first time being phenomenal. Even when the couple in question were not virgins, they may as well have been because nothing had ever been so earth shattering before. Man - that's a lot of pressure.

In writing about Percy's first time I also made Jane's experience with him so amazing that she realized the times before with other men meant nothing. It's plays into the fantastical idealization of virginity that we embrace.

Thus ends my diatribe on virginity. To be continued, I am sure, sooner than is preferred.

Holding Hands

I am a big fan of Beatles music. In general, I prefer the more psychedelic stuff over their earlier C major, happy music but recently I have been loving Kurt’s rendition of “I Want to Hold Your Hand” from Glee in 3-D. A song I have always viewed as shallow took on a new meaning – a longing for a physical connection. A simple touch, a shared sensation. The ramifications could mean nothing or everything, and sometimes it seems worth almost anything to find out. Touch takes knowing someone to a different level.

I just finished (devoured, really) Hearts in Darkness by Laura Kaye. Two people who had barely glimpsed each other are stuck in a pitch dark elevator. All he saw was her long red hair as she rushed for the elevator. All she remembered seeing of him was the tattoo on his hand. Complete strangers, they end up finding that elusive connection – first through honest sharing, then through touch. I really responded to the way they had the need to reach out. They could not see, but the way his stubble felt beneath her fingers, the way her fingers traced paths of heat against his skin, his scars, was both emotionally moving and sensual. It's like they were learning each other. The heightened sensation of touch along with their whispered truths felt so much more intimate, and more erotic, than the simple actions would have been in any other scenario. I highly recommend this book.

Every romance is centered around that connection.  As the world we are in becomes more and more anonymous, faceless, true connection to other people becomes precious. Maybe this is why I enjoy reading and writing romance so much - it glorifies something I find lacking in the real world. Life is too busy to stop and treasure a simple touch.

Maybe holding someone's hand should be something sing about, to long for.

Go Go Go!

The school year is off to a good start. I've been constantly on the go and haven't had time to breathe, let alone time to think. Or blog.

I've started a virtual writing club for my students. I'm using blogspot. It's only visible to authors or by invitation, so it's secure and the kids seem excited. I'm really pleased about it. That also means I need to actually take my YA project more seriously because I sure can't post stuff from my romances. :)

Speaking of Romance, Golden Heart will be here before you know it. That means it's time, really time, to get cracking on finishing Courtly Abandon. Honestly, I do work better with something hanging over my head. I set my own deadlines, but I always know that they're flexible. Getting ready for Golden Heart is not something I can just choose to change the date on.

So, that's my update. Life is GOGOGO,  but it's a good thing. I'm pleased with the direction of my writing and feel optimistic about things to come.

How's everything going for you right now?

Editing = Done! I think...

Editing/Revision Criteria from potentially interested publisher:

Courtly Scandals needs to be tightened. Watch out for repetition. The reader doesn't need to be told the same information over and over. Once is enough. Look for any extraneous information. Go through your chapters, point by point, and make sure whats in there is necessary to keep the plot moving. If not, delete it. Set a goal for yourself, for example, try to get your novel down to 350 pages. In order to do that you'll have to cut out quite a bit.

Look for back story, often you can cut out quite a bit of it. Make sure your story starts in the right place with action, not back story.

Use the Self-editing Guidelines I've included to make your writing more active. Getting rid of passive words such as had, could, would, etc.

Watch out for the overuse of had. I noticed it quite a bit.

What I have done:

Exactly what they told me to do, more or less.

The publisher suggested I start my story where the story happens. Duh! I knew that... I guess I thought I had, but then reading from a different perspective let me know I really hadn't. The story now starts in chapter 2. I did have to write a new intro.  Below is the first two paragraphs. Let me know if it the 'hook' is there.

    

On the first night of Christmas, Mary had no idea what to expect. She had heard rumors, but then you could never trust gossip. Especially when you knew from experience how the stories changed with each telling. For all she knew tonight could be a elegant feast and dance or an orgy that would make Caligula blush. Or both.

This would her first Christmas at Queen Elizabeth’s court. All she really knew was that, while the liveried servants had been busy transforming the palace, the courtiers had been fortifying themselves for twelve straight nights of revelry. The only true damper on her excitement was the guilt over leaving Anne. Then again, Anne was a grown woman now, wasn’t she? Besides, she’d told Mary to have a wonderful time and come back with scandalous stories, so she may as well follow orders. With one last glance in the mirror to ensure that her thick hair was still securely coiled inside her net caul, she gave herself a saucy wink and smiled. Tonight was going to be an adventure.

Courtly Scandals was originally written to be book two. Since book one will never see the light of day, any tie-ins were irrelevant, so many of the flashback bits which included 'had had' could die peacefully.

The hardest part was actual length. I think in terms of word count, but my instructions came in terms of page number based on Courier New font (which is really hard on my eyes, so I write in Times New Roman).  I was all jazzed when I was able to cut 4k words, but that still, in the Courier New world, had me at 401 pages. When I decided to start the story in chapter 2 (where she meets her love interest - makes sense), off went another 3k words and I'm now down to 386 pages. I honestly don't know what else to cut and still have fleshed out characters, setting, and story. I pray that the publisher will see that I did my due diligence, appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that went into being easy to work with and good at taking direction. I mean I even deleted my chapter titles and I loved my chapter titles. *sob*  Okay, moment has passed. Chapter titles are not a priority in the big picture. And I'd rather see this published as a good story than a story lacking something but with cute chapter titles.

It feels so good to be done.

The big excitement about this is that I can take it off my plate for now (until I hear back, that is) and work on Courtly Abandon. I am happy when I'm creating a story. Revisions are soul sucking, but writing new material gives me something to really look forward to every day. The writing process is energizing. Non-writers may think of it as spending hours in front of a computer, but I'm interacting with my characters, talking to them -- sometimes yelling at them. I always feel this pride of accomplishment at the end of every session, even when I'm frustrated and didn't reach my goal. When I'm writing, I'm more alive.

R is for Rickman

As in Alan Rickman.  Yes, I know it's silly, but I really dig on Snape.  Actually, it started back with Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves.  He was a great Sheriff of Nottingham,dark, funny, yet still vulnerable.  In one scene he is stalking through the darkened corridors of his castle and notices two peasant girls.  He stops, points to one, "You. My room. 10:30." Then looks at the second girl and says, "You. 10:45. Bring a friend."

Good stuff.

I have read the Harry Potter books and never fantasized about the greasy, scrawny Snape Rowling describes.  I have seen the Harry Potter movies and Alan Rickman's Snape is a horse of another color.  It's not that he's sexy so much as dark, mysterious, and intriguing.  He's so lonely, I just want to give him some comfort.  Is that so wrong?  Perhaps.

Then again, I did not find him attractive in Love, Actually... so it must not be Rickman himself so much as the misunderstood villain. 

So, in celebration of my weird little crush, I give you this cake picture.  I think the seventh candle was originally in the row on the right.  I don't know who Colleen is, but I'm sure she had a happy birthday and I hope she wasn't actually turning seven.

P is for Poop

Yes, Poop.

Heroes and heroines of romance do not have any embarrassing bodily functions.  They never smell bad, pass gas, squirt milk out their noses, etc...  Even in the steamy scenes where sweat and bodily fluids are abundant, everything is very clean and, to quote myself, "smells like apples."

Break me not in your haste, for I to none would give distaste

When I wrote my first draft of my first ms, my heroine was a 7/10, attractive but not stunning.  She drooled on herself when she fell asleep in a carriage.  She threw up when she had to much to drink.  This did not fly with my beta readers and she became a perfect 10 and did not drool.  I did, however, keep the puke scene (it was comic relief).

This sets a really unnatural standard for what is sexy.  Seriously, I was uncomfortable passing gas in front of my husband (who did not have the same qualms) until I was so pregnant I couldn't control it.  When we started sharing a bed, I would get up early to use the bathroom, re-deoderize, and brush my teeth so I didn't have morning breath when I woke up in his arms.  Maybe I was a little obsessive in this, but I have a feeling many other people did the similar weird things to disguise the fact that they were, in fact, human.

In honor of realism, I have written a short scene that you will never see in a romance.  Enjoy.

Frances straightened her dressing gown as she stepped out from behind the privacy screen and crossed to the ewer. Pouring the tepid water into the basin, she lathered her hands with the lavender soap. Henry was still in a daze, lying replete across their bed. She hoped he would fall back asleep rather than…

“God’s teeth, woman! Did that unholy stench come from you?”

Frances grimaced. “I pray your pardon, husband. I think me that last night’s boar was undercooked.”

Henry sat up, ineffectively shielding his nose with his hand. “It still amazes me that such a beautiful woman can create such ungodly odors.”

Frances merely shrugged. “I am a human, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Henry stood and walked toward her, the glow from the hearth turning the hard planes of his bare chest into liquid gold. “There is so much about your human attributes I very much appreciate.”

He drew aside the silk of her dressing gown, exposing one shoulder. Leaning forward, he lightly nipped, then planted one searing kiss on her skin.

She shivered in spite of the heat and pressed towards him, her lips on his neck then to his ear lobe.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “Frances…”

His words were interrupted by a drawn out sound of thunder crack, then three smaller fizzes as Henry’s flatulence echoed throughout the chamber. “Now it is I who must beg forgiveness. Perhaps the boar is not sitting well with me.”

Frances gagged as the stink assaulted her and covered her face with her hands, breathing in the lingering scent of lavender soap. “There is naught to forgive. You are human as well.”

L is for Loser

This is for everyone out there that has had their confidence chipped away by rejection.  You invest so much of your self, your creativity, your time, and your soul into your work and then leave yourself vulnerable to complete strangers.  Sometimes you respect where they come from and adapt, sometimes you don't and tell yourself to ignore them, but it almost always hurts.

So, to all my fellow rejectee's out there in the blogosphere, I recommend you get crazy with the cheese whiz. That's what I'm doing.

The Crossroads

Jane just broke Percy's heart. Or, did Percy's unrealistic expectations break his own heart? Will he come to realize that Jane's past doesn't matter and that her motives are honorable and not those of the whore he has condemned her as?  Will he have some deep, introspective, soul searching? Or will a wise mentor guide him in the right direction?

It's a hard question, and one that is not answered in my outline.  If he comes to the realization by himself then there will be quite a bit of deep pov without much action. If a mentor saves the day through sage advice and subtle manipulation, there will be dialogue (which is always a good thing) but it may be too deus ex machina and come off as cliche.

My outline paces the action, but I keep it sparse because my characters have minds of their own and don't follow direction well.  I am not a true seat-of-the-pantser, but I have learned to trust the direction my characters take the story.  Somehow, between now (April 28th) and the May day bonfire (May 1st) Percy has to realize that Jane was being self sacrificing and not cheap. Jane has to realize that love is important.  Percy and Jane can only come together (and I mean that in every way) when she has been honest with herself that he she is meant to be with him and when he respects her strength, shrugging off philosophy for real life. 

I now sit at the start of chapter 14 (about 40k words), about to write fluff (that I will probably later delete) in order to get the story moving. Jane has to buck up and pretend that her love for Percy doesn't matter and try to seduce the Viscount Kinglsey. Percy has to be professional and sophisticated while the woman he has loved all his life flirts with his brother.  It's a horrible moment to be in.  I haven't written more than the description of the spring air and I already hate this chapter. I may just go in the other room and catch up on episodes of House.

Have you ever come to a critical crossroads in your story and not been sure how the problem was going to get resolved?

Hot Kiss Blogfest

Thank you to Tara Fouts for hosting this blogfest.

The premise:
1. this blogfest tests your skills on writing a hot kiss scene without the sex. Of course, if it leads up to that, that's fine.
2. scenes can be up to an R rating


This is the first kiss between Mary and Charles in Courtly Scandals.  They just met and escaped a crowded ballroom together.  She doesn't even know his name. 

As if the joy were too much, the sky opened, softly coating the dark in a flutter of snow.  Their flight slowed as the delicate kiss of ice floated around them in the winter night.  Whether it was Mary herself who slowed first or her companion, after several more steps in the flurry of snowflakes, they both stood still, eyes up to the heavens, faces raised to embrace the fresh, cold air.

Panting puffs of icy breath, Mary stifled her laugh, afraid the harsh sound of her voice would ruin the beauty of the moment.  A warm hand reached to cradle her cheek, her jaw.  The warm flesh against her skin was a sharp contrast to the increasingly cold night.  Snowflakes settled on her lashes as she turned to face him.  He was a beautiful man – he belonged in this moment.  Icy flakes lay against the blond waves pulled back from his face, the shine in his blue eyes echoing the glimmer of moonlight against the ice.  She did not know who he was, but he had run with her – he had flown and laughed with her.  They had shared a moment of abandon outside of any boundary.  Slowly he drew her toward him even as his lips lowered upon hers.

The touch was so soft.  So warm.  The snow fluttered around them, but where his hands held her, she felt nothing but heat.  His lips moved and she welcomed the deeper touch.  She wanted to smile at the joy of it.  Her hands moved up to caress the planes of his chest, her fingers seeking upward toward his collar and his neck.  He was so strong, his mouth a steady pressure against hers.  His tongue teased the corner of her mouth, gliding warmly against the smooth fullness of her lower lip, coaxing her to open herself more fully for him.

He invaded her mouth, claiming it, twining his tongue with hers.  Her body was heated under his touch and she wanted to feel his hands everywhere.  Her lips moved against his, her hands seeking to learn the strength and warmth of his body.  Around them flurries of snow spiraled to stick to the frozen earth, encasing them in icy silence.  They were alone in a magical world. 

Don't forget to sign up for my Paint it Purple Blogfest on March 25th!

Calling a Spade a Spade

Of course, I am talking about genitalia.  What else would I be talking about?

In reading romance, I always note the terminology and/or euphemisms.  While there are some cliche expressions, in well written stories, the character's perspective leads the way in the naming of body parts.  Is she a aristocratic virgin who is unfamiliar with her own body?  Is she a doctor who looks at sexual encounters as mammalian couplings?  Or is she a dock-side strumpet with a dirty mouth sadly in need of Orbit?  Whoever she is, it will guide the way she views her experiences.  An older sister who raised a herd of younger brothers may look on the penis as a pizzle, peanut, or whatever cute name they used for the toddlers.  Her prior knowledge of it as a non-sexual organ will color her experiences when, ultimately, she discovers its other purpose.  The educated modern woman may be specific and scientific -- and if she did start talking dirty, it would be part of her character development.

But what none of these ladies would think is that the penis is a velvet encased steel lance or a pulsating rod of power.  Unless the author has established an omniscient narrator, all third person perspective descriptions are deep point of view.  The story is from the character's perspective and unless that character is a poet and completely disengaged enough from whatever sensual activity is happening in the scene, she is not going to describe her own nipples as ruched peaks of rose petals atop milky mounds of downy softness.

For years I referred to the female genitalia as the 'area' (usually accompanied by a vague hand gesture).  There was no slang term I liked and the technical terms just seemed too formal and specific.  With my current w.i.p., my main character is really earthy and sensual so it's going to be a challenge to label from her perspective without coming across as crass.  What are your favorite, least favorite, or just plain silly euphemisms?

Let's Talk About Sex

Today's world of contraception  and sex-education has made sex more of a fun thing to do when you're bored than a big, meaningful event.  Age, both very young and very old, is irrelevant. Marriage is not a requirement by any means for anything (except for shared health benefits).  Modern Western culture is as much an anything goes society as any in the history of the Western world (except for maybe Ancient Greece in regards to homosexuality).

I think I can objectively say that these are modern sexual mores as presented by the media.  The stakes, in regards to sex, are not high.

Given the prevailing openness about sex, even among adolescents, never ceases to amaze me when those sneaky Puritanical values that occasionally give us guilt or the perception of a right to be judgmental rear their intolerant, bonnet clad head.

Recently a young lady of my acquaintance shared that she was expecting.  She is over 18, a high school graduate, and on the way to developing a career.  She is a capable young adult.  She and the father plan to marry, which was their plan in the first place.  Now, I'm sure even she would acknowledge that the situation is not ideal, but it's not terrible or anything worthy of scandal.  The buzz amongst the younger crowd, however, is quite different.

I don't know if the fact that she's pregnant is what makes it rumor worthy.  Since she's not showing any sense of shame or embarrassment, that should have squashed the rumor mills in the bud.  But it hasn't -- which leads me to think that the titillating factor is that the pregnancy is evidence that she's sexually active.  I cannot believe, in this world that these adolescents wish to be a part of and claim to be mature enough to participate in, that they care that an adult is sexually active. Really?

This goes on to debunk the media's portrayal that our society actually believes that anything goes.  Apparently the stakes are still high.  Parents still opt to have their children excluded from sex education and abstinence is the preferred method of birth control.  Perception of being sexually promiscuous (which apparently means sexually active) is just as big a deal now as it has ever been.  And marriage counts for something.  I mean, I don't think the buzz would be nearly as exciting if I, a married, 35 year-old, mother of two, announced I was pregnant (I'm not, btw). In fact, the young people would probably be grossed out.

This is where I seguay to writing....
I write historical romance.  The most popular historical romance genre is Regency.  During the regency era and the ensuing Victorian period, sex was a very private thing.  There were strict moral codes.  Judgement was high.  The stakes for being sexually active outside of marriage could be life shattering.  In a way, this makes Regency romance that much more exciting.

I write about the Elizabethan era.  Sex was, well, rampant.  Obvious.  In poorer communities, life was still almost feudal, and generations of a family would share one home without having their own rooms.  Sex was not private, nor was it illicit or sinful.  It was a normal thing that happened between a couple (especially since England was experiencing a mini-Ice Age at that point).  Sex outside of marriage may have been a bigger deal to the lower classes, but among the nobles it was commonplace.  In fact, a betrothed couple would sometimes not marry until the woman was pregnant in order to ensure that she could breed.  If a woman got pregnant outside of a betrothal, she'd go and have the baby in the country, then come back to court.  She also had the option of taking a 'herbal remedy,' and many women did.  The idea of being ruined by lack of virginity happened much later.  Virginity was not all important -- what was important was that the blood lines be preserved. 

This said, raising the sexual stakes in an Elizabethan romance is difficult.  Of course, modern readers put their own perceptions of what life was like 'back then' and attribute values to things that were not valued -- so they put their own stakes on the event.  So far, my stakes revolve around other aspects of the story.  Sex is part of it, of course, in that it goes to grow the characters and the relationship.

In my current w.i.p., I am making a point to make the stakes on sex high.  Jane is a sexually promiscuous widow -- sex is not be a big deal for her.  She has to change her ideals when she decides that she want to marry again and she wants to marry well.  If she is going to marry the Earl of Kingsley, she should not give in to her desire for the tutor, despite the fact that he was her first, innocent love years ago. This time I'm going to withhold sex for quite some time and see if the tension is enough to titillate through the story.  The problem I see with this is when they actually do come together, I had better deliver that scene with an intensity that makes the wait worth it.

Of course, these are my plans now.  Who knows what the characters will decide to do, if the want to abide by my outline or not.