I read the responses to Cara’s day asking what the readers of this blog want. I love research things myself, and I love just composing. The writer part of me is often more eager than the history buff, so I change around a bit.

Today I have something a little different. Since there are writers reading Risky Regencies, some published, some aspiring to be published…I thought I’d talk a little about my own experience.

The details of my back-story aren’t that important. Everyone has one, and they are all good—they all lead to the love of writing. I’ve mentioned before what made me love Regencies—and romantic suspense and good gothic romances—and that was my early reading. I loved Charles Dickens, Mary Roberts Rinehart, Victoria Holt, Helen MacInnes, Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer—by way of Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys and the Black Stallion. 😉 Readers have the first ingredient that makes writers, by the way.

Growing as a writer—For those who would like to read about this, with apologies to those who don’t: To make it as a writer you do have to write every day, or nearly every day. Like anything else you become better at, it is practice, practice, practice. Many of us start with the love of the written word and write to please ourselves. Eventually our minds turn to the possibility of becoming published. We keep on writing, have our highs and our lows, and one day, after what seems an eon of time and a colossal amount of work, we receive an offer. My offer came from NAL Signet for my manuscript that I called “Cat of My Heart.” It was renamed “The Best Laid Plans” and came out as a Signet Regency in November 2003.

Here comes the “Rolling With the Punches” part: I now need to seek publication all over again. This is the lot of a writer, particularly a novelist, and it is not that unusual. Signet Regencies will no longer be produced, and I have completed my last contract for them.

I still love Regencies, but my current project is a romantic suspense. I am, however, daily attacked by Regency plot ideas! So no one must think I will not write in the Regency period again. I shall. It is only a matter of when.

Those of you who are aspiring writers may find it discouraging to know that being published does not mean a constant state of being with no further concerns about being published in the future. But I can tell you that it is not all that bad, either. I am eager to plunge ahead and see where I end up. Our books are adventures—so our careers must be. And the current state of publishing only makes it more of a challenge.

I’d love to hear everyone’s comments about publishing, either their own story, or about the state of publishing, or what they are targeting and why. Regency historicals are still popular, and this is where I hope to find myself eventually. There are also other avenues. If you love Regencies, where are you focusing your efforts now?

Laurie
LORD RYBURN’S APPRENTICE
Signet January, 2006

The Merchant Sisters circa 1903

I’ve been having some crazy days lately. I’ve been in this deep reflection stage, pondering the meaning of my life (here is a great opening for Monty Python fans) and imagining that I have made progress.

Reflection is a unique ability of man. I sometimes think it is somewhat of a lost art. Perhaps I am wrong? I’d like to think so…but with the advent of so many “sit there and be done to” mediums, it seems that solitude is less often experienced these days, and solitude is a necessary prerequisite.

I am sitting in front of a computer screen right now, even though at the moment I am talking to myself. But in seconds I could be anywhere in the electronic world, shopping, checking the weather in Burma, perusing my email, looking for a chat room (although I am not a chatter, I could look for a chat room). It is incredibly easy to do these things.

If I want to stand up and go to where I last left my remote control, supposing I can find it (if not, I will experience some unpredicted exercise) I can flick on the boob tube. There are even more boobs on it these days (of any sort you want to consider), and if soaps aren’t your cuppa there are all of those “reality” shows–most of which don’t seem the least bit real to me, but nonetheless. Of course, if one does not want these, or the news, there are movies–some exceptionally good–and “how-to” programs, a favorite of mine, because I can imagine doing something I don’t, can’t, or won’t.

The radio is fairly innocuous these days. I usually tune into my local public radio that serves up NPR and PRI and the like. They actually do foster some thought on my part, rather like reading a good book–but it didn’t used to be there. No, just a few short generations ago, one had to occupy oneself with engaging directly with another person, by viewing a live presentation, or by reading or writing or involving oneself with one’s hobby.

My grandmothers sewed, read, played cards, wrote letters or poetry, took walks or buggy rides. They took walks, took the train, or went boating with their sweethearts/husbands. They made picnic lunches and made them exquisitely–they packed lemonade, cake and homemade pickles, homemade bread and jam, sliced meats, chicken legs, cloth napkins and a wool blanket or a woven tablecloth to lay out, and all was placed in a willow basket. In the evening they played the piano, sung, and read their favorite ladies’ magazine.

I get nostalgic thinking of this world I only lived in, peripherally, as a child. I of course did not experience the horses–tractors and cars and trucks had arrived by the time I arrived in the world–but I listened to the stories and saw the photographs. And when I grew older and was more interested in listening to my transistor radio off in a corner by myself, these experiences were still part of me. They are to this day, as I remember them.

I’d like to thank my grandparents and other grand-relatives for this gift of the past, and I do wish I could somehow bring it back, at least in a small way. And that, I think, is why I write–and why my mother wrote, and why my grandmother wrote.

It is a gift of reflection, and a gift of bringing back to life things we love.

All the best in your life,
Laurie