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Friday, April 22, 2011

A Writer's Retreat

Writing can be a lonely process, especially if you don’t count the characters in your head and on the page.   To cure the lonely writer blues, we like to tweet, get together for meetings, conferences, critique groups, and RETREATS!
Last weekend, thirteen ladies from our Carolina Romance Writers group traveled to Lake Lure, NC to be around people that don’t think you’re crazy just because you say things like, “My hero is being difficult about his internal conflict.”  We had workshops, critique groups, free writing time, and LOTS of writer talk.  I’ve heard tale of these writers that are withdrawn and introverted, but I’ve yet to meet many of them.  While some might hang back in a big group, you get them alone, one on one, and it’s a whole other story.   Every one of these ladies was eager and willing to talk about their current project, past experiences, best practices, biggest mistakes, etc. etc. etc.  I learned more invaluable lessons and bits of information in 2 days than I have in the last year!  Everything from how to pitch my book and where to track agents and queries, to what categorizes Steampunk, would a regenerative vampire be circumcised, and how can we make “loose change” a euphemism for… 
Okay, so obviously some of the conversations got derailed, but that’s part of the fun!  I found that even though I was away from home and had the luxury of sleeping in, I couldn’t.  I stayed up late, too giddy with writer talk to go to sleep. I woke up early, too excited at what the new day and surrounding creative minds might bring.
 I left motivated, armed with information, exhausted and totally invigorated.  In the last week I’ve prepared 35 pages for my first contest submission, registered for the Moonlight & Magnolia’s conference, set up Tweet Deck so I can navigate social media more effectively, worked with my design guru friend and finished a business card template, and done more edits.  If this is what a retreat does, I can’t imagine a conference or (gasp!) Nationals.  I might not sleep for days!  What about you - have you escaped with your writer posse?  A girls weekend?  Would it be selfish to do this quarterly? :)

Friday, April 8, 2011

Long Live Cody Bear

This week marks the second year I have been without my furry sidekick.  Cody Alexander, better known as Cody Bear, was a constant source of comfort, laughter and drool for twelve wonderful years.  I still occasionally think I see him at the back door or have to look twice if there is a dark colored shirt left on the floor.  I find it hard to believe I will never again find my feet pinned to the floor under his sleeping weight. He will never again nudge me against the knee under the dining room table when he wants me to share my food.  No more slobbery tennis balls will be dropped at my toes.  No more half eaten bones will be found in the corners of my house.  And, I will not wake up to find him beside me during a thunder storm.  Even as I write this blog two years later, tears are slipping down my cheek to fall with silent finality on my shirt. 
Today however, is a happy day.  Today is a day for celebration of a life that was and a life that will now live on forever in fiction.  For today, I want to share with you an excerpt of Abigail’s Secret where Cody Bear will forever fetch balls and beg for food.  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Do you have a little furry one you’re missing today?  I would love to read your comments.

Abigail’s Secret
Charles Towne, South Carolina
1783
     “These are my cousins, Sarah and Emma Terrington.  They are…presently in my care.” Alex refrained from saying to Banyan what he truly felt about his cousins at that moment.  Instead, he looked past them and into the stone covered streets of the city he would now call home.  The buildings were all tall and thin, stacked like books on the shelf of a library.  It was a clean city when he compared it to soot covered London, where he had just come from.  The businesses that lined the streets all seemed peaceful and quiet, adorned in muted colors and topped with red tile roofs. Perhaps this would not be such a horrible fate after all. 
     “Nice to make your acquaintance Sarah and Emma,” Banyan said easily with a twinkle in his eye.
     The twins were obviously happy to be on solid ground, and in the company of someone who did not want to kill them.  They beamed up at Banyan as he began tossing their bags into the back of his wagon.  Alex noticed a large coal black dog sitting up on the front bench.  It seemed to be taking advantage of the premium views the bench offered of the action around him.  Just then, the dog hopped over into the back of the wagon, came to the side of the conveyance where Alex stood with the girls, and began sniffing them.  Sarah turned her face up to him, and he licked her from chin to eyebrow; she laughed and reached out to pet him. 
     “That’s Cody Bear,” Banyan offered as he lifted one end of a trunk and indicated for Alex to get the other. 

As Alex lifted the trunk he watched the girls giggle and fuss over the beast of a dog.  "If there is an animal within sight, Sarah will befriend it,” he shook his head and looked back at Banyan.  “I’ve never seen that breed in England, what is he?”
     “He’s a new breed.  I found him while on my travels,” he said with pride.  “He’s a Labrador Retriever.  He’d be a great hunting dog if he weren’t gun shy, the worthless fur ball.”  Banyan looked up at his dog, and scratched him behind the ears lovingly. 
     “I had a mastiff as a boy; however, when he ate most of the stores in the kitchen during the dead of night and then moved on to the drawing room furniture, my father insisted I give him away.  Never had another,” Alex finished wistfully, as he looked into the warm brown eyes of the dog regarding him as a slobbery ball was dropped at his foot.
     “Now Cody, we don’t have time to play right now,” Banyan said as picked up the slimy ball tossing it back into the wagon where it was pounced on like a jungle cat would devour its prey. 
     “Last one,” Alex said lifting the last of the trunks into the wagon.  “How far is it to Darby House?”
     “Oh, just right up the way, not far at all.  I’ll give you the grand tour as we go.”
     “I think Charles Towne is a lovely city,” Emma interjected looking up at the building tops looming above their heads on the street behind them.
     “That it is,” Banyan agreed.
     “There sure are a lot of churches,” Sarah observed gazing at the steeple tops that dotted the skyline of the port town. 
     “That there are. Charles Towne is even called The Holy City on occasion because of that very reason.”
     “Why are there so many?” Sarah asked, as she ran her hand over the black fur covered head of the hound leaning on her shoulder where it left a puddle of drool on her dress that she would never notice.  
      “I reckon that’s because nobody can agree on what they believe.  So, they just build another building down the street, and invite the friends who agree with them to sit there on Sundays instead of where they sat the Sunday before.  Nobody agrees, and we don’t have to, welcome to the New World.” He grinned and handed Sarah up into the wagon.
     “Well, they are lovely nonetheless.  I think Charles Towne will be a wonderful place to live,” Emma offered, as she joined her sister in sitting on a trunk at the back of the wagon. 
     Banyan raised the gate at the rear of the wagon and hooked it with chains to secure it before looking up at Alex, a question in his glance, “Once you get settled in, I’ll show you around some of the establishments in town if you like.”
     “If one of those establishments is a place where a gentleman can get a moment’s peace from family, and have a glass of something that numbs, I would like that,” Alex returned with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
     “Ah, I know just the place that will suit your needs,” Banyan laughed in a great booming voice that reverberated off the pastel painted buildings of the city.  “You might not be all bad Darby, not bad at all.”  He laughed again, and jumped up onto the front bench of the wagon to set off for Darby House.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Now where did I put my diaphanous gown???

This week I told a friend of mine I’m writing a paranormal romance.  She teased me asking, “Will anyone be wearing a diaphanous gown?  I think the woman has to wear a diaphanous gown.  It’s like a rule.”
Ah, the stereotypes of romance novels.  For the record, my heroine does not don a diaphanous gown, nor will she ever.  She’s a button up blouse and pencil skirt type of girl. More to the point though, I don’t think I’ve ever read about a heroine wearing a diaphanous gown.  Even in historicals, they wouldn’t wear something so scandalous.  In the privacy of their bedroom the scenes are more likely to include a chemise and stockings.  While my friend meant it good heartedly (and in all fairness she teases everyone about everything), she did bring about an excellent blog topic: What are the rules of the romance novel?
Nowadays there’s only three rules that are different from any other line of fiction.  You should have a pairing.  Your pairing should be at the center of your story and they should have some kind of Happily Ever After.  Everything else is up for grabs, including what the heroine wears.  Even HEAs come in different forms in the modern romance novel.  In the 90s and early millennia, it seems as though every hero and heroine had to get married at the end of the book AND either have a child or be expecting.  Now you can simply have the profession of love and that’s enough.  There’s always the promise for more and often readers like to imagine the future for themselves.  In some modern romances there isn’t even a hero and heroine, there’s a hero and a hero or two heroines.
I find it amusing to hear all the stereotypes that people believe about romance novels.  I don’t get upset and I never argue with them.  I educate and quietly point out that some of Hollywood’s biggest hits could easily be considered romance stories.  Avatar?  Futuristic Sci-fi Romance.  Titanic and Pirates of the Caribbean? Historical Romance.  Sleepless in Seattle and Pretty Woman?  Contemporary Romance Novel.   Twister? Action Adventure Romance.  They are all either centered on a main pair’s relationship or they have huge romantic elements.  Romance is no longer about ripping bodices or puffy shirts that mysteriously lack buttons (although I love a good, old fashioned bodice ripper now and again).  It’s about carefully crafted characters and taut plotlines that keep you flipping the pages or watching the movie.  Oh yes, and a Happily Ever After.
So what’s your favorite romance – book, movie, or otherwise?
                                                              portrait by Jeremy Lipking