Category: Writing

Posts in which we talk about the writing craft and process

Mothers!

Updated on January 13, 2013 by Elena Greene

Yesterday I wrote a short scene between the heroine of my very new mess-in-progress and her mother. The heroine’s father had to be dead, for plot purposes, but I thought perhaps the mother might prove an interesting character. Well, I tried her one way and another—sympathetic, controlling, whiny, funny—and nothing clicked. So I decided she was just better off dead, too. I may revive her at some point, but only if she has something entertaining to contribute to the story!

I think there’s a reason why heroines of romances often don’t have mothers, or at least not ones who are present for most of the story. The mother/daughter relationship is very complex and can take over from the romance. A mother’s good counsel might keep a heroine from making her own mistakes and learning from them. And depending on the story, having a mom around might destroy the mood.

And yet, is creating orphaned characters an easy (and cheap) way to buy a reader’s sympathy? A problematic mother (like Mrs. Bennett in Pride & Prejudice) can escalate conflict, but wouldn’t it be refreshing to see more positive mother figures in romance fiction?

Most books I recall that included such a mother also featured a hero with bigger problems than the heroine’s, where it made sense that a mother’s support would help her deal with him. Some examples: Julia Ross’s MY DARK PRINCE and Jo Beverley’s DEVILISH.

Can anyone else think of examples of interesting fictional mothers, good, bad and ugly?

Elena
www.elenagreene.com/

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged fictional mothers, mothers | 7 Replies

Highest Concept

Updated on January 13, 2013 by megan

I hate for this to be all about me, but . . .

let’s talk about me.

My book, A Singular Lady, comes out in stores in less than two weeks. Ten days, to be exact, but who’s counting? My editor sent me one copy of it, which is now crinkled, stained, and worn because I’ve been hauling it around to show off if anyone asks what I do besides stay at home with my son.

I’ve read a few bits of it, too, when I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me what I do besides stay at home with my son (um, did I say that? I meant waiting to save a puppy or make chocolate from scratch. That’s what I meant). It feels as if another person wrote it. I certainly don’t remember tapping out some of those words on the keyboard.

I do remember, however, when I knew I would finish writing it. I was at a music industry conference talking with a Very Important Music Journalist and I mentioned what I was doing in my theoretical spare time. I told her the bare concept–my heroine writes a column detailing her husband quest–and she replied, “Oh, Sex And The City in the Regency.”

A ha! I thought. That made it all so much clearer.

And thus was I introduced to the high concept, a buzzword that’s since been cutting a swath through writers’ conferences. The High Concept is a sentence, sometimes only a sentence fragment, that describes the book (or movie, or TV show) in a succinct, catchy way.

So when I pitched my book at those same writers’ conferences, I’d say “Sex And The City in the Regency,” and editors and agents would nod excitedly and ask me to send a partial and synopsis. Which is, in fact, how my book sold–I pitched it to an editor and an agent at the same conference and it sold to one and I got representation from the other.

So, if you’re a reader, how would you characterize your favorite book in a high concept sentence? If you’re a writer, do you think in high concept? What’s your latest project’s high concept? Do you find it easier to think in high concept, or is it just more work?

And while you’re thinking about that, I’ll be off saving a puppy.

Megan

Posted in Reading, Risky Book Talk, Writing | Tagged A Singular Lady, high concept | 7 Replies

Laura Kinsale, Light and Dark Stories

Updated on January 13, 2013 by Elena Greene

Not long ago, I heard the good news that Laura Kinsale has completed a new book.

For anyone who doesn’t already know, Laura Kinsale writes superb historical romances, many of them featuring amazingly tortured heroes. In fact, no one does dark heroes better, as the judges of this year’s Romance Writers of America RITA contest recognized in selecting her last release, SHADOWHEART, as Best Historical Romance. My critique partners and I sometimes refer to her as the Goddess. When we analyze her scenes, as a writing exercise, we usually find ourselves genuflecting and mumbling, “We are not worthy, we are not worthy…”

OK, I could rhapsodize for a while longer, but you get the picture.

I read on her website (www.laurakinsale.com/books/lucky.html) that Laura decided to do a lighter story after all the angst and turmoil in SHADOWHEART. It’s going to be more like her other lighter book, MIDSUMMER MOON.

As presumptuous, not to say blasphemous, as it is to say this, I think I understand. Some of my earlier Regencies were on the light side, but LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE has darker elements than I’ve tackled before (still Little League compared to SHADOWHEART, of course). I found myself suffering along with my characters, which can be a draining experience. When I started another angsty story it was like wading through an ever-deepening snowdrift. Now I’m doing a lighter one and finding that the ideas are coming a little more quickly (though first drafts are never easy). So for me, changing up was a creative necessity.

However, switching gears feels like yet another creative risk.

I think Laura Kinsale’s devoted fans will buy her next book. I certainly will. But do some readers feel cheated when an author of an angsty (or funny, or sweet, or sexy… you name it) book does something radically different in her next?

I wonder.

Elena
www.elenagreene.com

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged Laura Kinsale | 12 Replies

Inspiration

Updated on January 13, 2013 by megan

Inspiration can come at the most unexpected times—visiting a lovely, historic place, as the posts this week have demonstrated; seeing a movie with a particularly attractive (some would say hunky) man; reading a book, even if it’s not a romance (man, the ideas I’ve gotten from Dashiell Hammett’s Maltese Falcon. No, just kidding.)
Chances are, each writer’s inspiration is idiosyncratic, speaking to our most primal thoughts and images. For example, I like visiting a nice historic site, but I don’t think I’d get inspired to write because of it, even if I went to Gretna Green, found a blacksmith, and did that whole anvil thing. All five of my fellow bloggers have posted about places they found inspiring.
Me, I’d probably just look around a little and then go find where they sell the coffee.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy visiting historic places, I do; but I don’t feel my writer’s soul quiver when I’m there. For inspiration, I reach back into what I first loved about Happily Ever After stories and come up with two main sources:
A friend of my mother’s gave me The Green Fairy Book when I was born (I’m certain my parents would have preferred burp cloths, but there you go). Needless to say, it took me a couple of years after that to actually read it. And when I did, my romantic streak was born. Andrew Lang collected and compiled fairy stories from all over the world, from Europe to Africa to Asia. His translations, accompanied by H.J. Ford’s amazing art, defined, and continues to define, romance for me.

There are twelve colored fairy books in all, and I would say I’ve read them all close to a hundred times each. When my copies got too worn out and mildewed, my husband replaced them as a birthday present (and this was before the internet made thoughtful shopping so easy).
Also when I was little, my parents and I lived in New Hampshire (stick with me, I am going somewhere). Since both of them worked, I went to a neighbor’s house after school to play with her daughter and her friend’s two daughters. My babysitter was Trina Schart Hyman, a multiple Caldecott Honor Award winning illustrator. Trina’s artwork featured beautiful, independent women with long, wild hair and handsome, honorable men doing noble deeds (it also featured a guy who looked suspiciously like my dad, Trina’s martini-drinking buddy. I always got the olives.).

I read, and re-read, and re-read these stories hundreds of times. I imagined myself disguised as a boy and rescuing a prince from a dragon. I imagined myself sleeping for twenty years and being awoken by a prince. I imagined myself watching as a prince completed an impossible task set him by my father (notice the plethora of princes?) . Of course, I imagined myself as beautiful, graceful and quick-witted as these heroines, too, even though I was a chubby glasses-wearing asthmatic (I’m not chubby anymore, but don’t ever put my glasses near your cat).
And when it came time to write, I didn’t even give it a second thought. I would write a romance, a story where I knew the ending was going to be happy. Those are the stories, and images, that make me happy. That inspire me.

Posted in Reading, Writing | Tagged Andrew Lang, Fairy Tales, Green Fairy Book | 6 Replies

End of Summer

Updated on January 13, 2013 by Elena Greene

It is early morning. My kids go back to school today.

The backpacks are packed, every item that can bear a name tag has one, and the pencils are sharpened. At least, half of them are. Suddenly I couldn’t remember whether the teachers liked to have the pencils pre-sharpened. Then I pictured the other children happily taking turns at the sharpener and my own children miserable at being left out. So I decided to do half and half. Yes, I know I overanalyze everything! It’s part of being a writer and a mother.

It’s been a tough summer for writing. I’ve hired a babysitter for a few afternoons here and there, but frankly, I’ve had trouble getting my head into the game. I feel guilty writing during the summer, as if by having my children romp for a few hours with the sweet teenager who lives next door I am depriving them of something vital that only I can give. In my saner moments I realize this is nonsense; we’ve had all sorts of fun time together this summer, from blueberry picking to craft projects to a vacation in Maine.

Yesterday, a couple other mothers and I took our children for a last fling at a park. The kids waded around the stream below a sunlit waterfall, catching crayfish, frogs and minnows, while the other mothers and I talked about all our mingled feelings: joy, regret, guilt. We weren’t sure (at least I wasn’t) whether we’d be dancing or crying when the bus pulled up.

Part of me can’t wait for the quiet house, for more time for my writing. And part of me feels terribly guilty about feeling that way. What sort of awful mother am I? I remind myself that it’s important to find balance: time to be with my little ones, but also time to nurture myself and my own creativity. My children look to me as a role model. I don’t want them to see a cranky martyr; I don’t want to pass on the burden of guilt. I want them to see a woman passionate about them and about her work, too. One who takes risks and doesn’t limit herself to a single role in life.

So to any mothers sending their children back to school, remember it’s OK to do the happy dance in your bathrobe as the bus pulls away. It’s also OK to shed a few (buckets of) tears.

I expect I’ll do both. Then I’ll get back to writing.

Posted in Writing | Tagged writing and motherhood | 4 Replies