Fear Factor

On this Tuesday that feels like Monday, I woke at 6:00am. I never wake up that early unless I have to catch a plane or I'm freaked about a deadline. I'm not flying today.

But I won't bore everyone with the details of my insanity (although I suppose that's what a blog's all about). Instead, I'll talk about my wall. It's to my left in my office, and what I've done is put up all the plaques, awards, and other miscellany that acts as my security blanket. I've got my Golden Heart certificate, my two RITA finalist certificates, a blown up screen image of my credits on a TV movie, and a couple of contest win certificates. I used to have covers up there, too, but I stopped doing that a while ago.

What the wall does for me is that it gently reminds me that yes, indeed, I am a professional writer. I need this affirmation mostly when I'm working on a book that's not flowing. There are some books where I don't even glance at the wall. And yet when I get into a situation that's scary, I need the wall like I need air.

The odd thing about this (to me, at least) is that I want to be scared. I want to tackle things I've never done before. If there's no fear, then it means I'm doing something I've done before. Which isn't necessarily bad, because I've done some books that were familiar but I was able to find something unique and wonderful within that context. But being a prolific author (which one needs to be in order to make a living in category) I have to worry about repeating myself.

So I say yes when I'm asked to do something new. I try to come up with plots that I'm pretty damn sure I can't pull off. I look for something unique and challenging in every book, and sometimes I succeed.

I started out writing IMs. I wrote three of them, and I loved writing them. Then I was invited to write an American, a romantic comedy. It scared me to death because I'd never done comedy. The book was Quick, Find a Ring, which is still one of my favorites. A while after that, I was asked to write a Temptation. Again, fear, because I didn't know if I could make a book all sexy. That first one was One Wicked Night, and it was a RITA finalist. Blaze was another challenge, and I eagerly said yes to helping launch that line, grateful and, yep, scared.

Now I have a lineup of scary – a romance novel set in 24 hours. A time-travel novella. An erotic thriller for Blaze. A single title.

Talk about Fear Factor! But it's also good, because it's making me stretch my writing muscles, which I think is critical. I'm not discounting the fear that's involved in writing the type of book I've written before. It's a real challenge to come up with fresh, new, exciting in a familiar format. I equate it to writing a haiku, or even a sitcom. Here's the paradigm, now come up with something new that's going to excite me and the reader. Tough stuff. But there's nothing like the thrill of tackling a brand new terrifying project and succeeding. It's hard to get through, but worth it, mostly. Kind of my (wussy ass) version of scaling Everest.

Do you shy away from the scary, or embrace it? What makes you terrified about writing? And how do you deal with the fear?


05.31.05 @ 11:07 AM MST [Link to Entry]

Ahhhh, pretty

Got so burned out on the (#&$ manuscript, I made the DF take me out to dinner. The road down was so gorgeous, I had to share.

I feel much better.

05.30.05 @ 11:43 PM MST [Link to Entry]

writing, she is fun, yes?

So I'm working on my 24 hour book, and I have some stuff in there I really, really like. However, (eeek!) I woke up in the middle of the night and realized my timing is seriously off. I spent the day yesterday restructuring, which sucked, because I'm late with the book, and I need to get it done. I believe I've figured out how to fix the problem, but Jeez it is HARD to write a love story in 24 hours, especially a Blaze, because there needs to be tons of dialogue (which I love to write, but it's not a play) and to include folks other than the h/h because it needs to have some breadth and breathing room, and to have the sex evolve so it's natural, and to have the emotional journey all in one day. Oh, and they have to sleep, too. I'll be very curious to read this book when it's done.

As for mountain news, thunder, hail and snow woke me up this morning. Yeah, snow. I mean, please. Who's in charge? I think we need to sit down and talk.

What's also wonderful about the mountain today is that my best friend in the world is here! She's got a condo very near, and we get to hang, which is so cool. Of course we're both in deadline hell, so hanging will be limited, but it still beats her being 100s of miles away. She's Debbi Rawlins, and we met 11 years ago in Houston, and we're still together. How great are girlfriends, especially ones who get you, get your work, get your life. I love it.

Good thing TV is utter crap today, so I can focus on the work. Although I hate it when my reruns of Buffy and X-Files aren't there when they're supposed to be. Don't they realize I have a schdule???


05.30.05 @ 12:40 PM MST [Link to Entry]

and thanks for all the fish

Remember that beautiful picture of the lake? Went there yesterday to fish. We didn't catch any, but it didn't matter because it was Gorgeous! And I wrote 10 pages! God, I love my Neo.

We won't be going fishing again until after the hordes leave the mountain. The best part of here is when we go to one of the various lakes during the week, and we have it all to ourselves. In fact, we've been known to buzz past lakes with even one person there to find the bliss of private fishing at another. Not that we're anti-social or anything.

In other news, I got an okay on my title for the 24 hour book – Minute By Minute. Which I think totally works. That one will be out in January. The only thing I have out for the rest of this year is the Elvis anthology.

Okay, time to go. I have to see the chiropractor today because ow. I did something bad to my back, and it's pissed.


05.27.05 @ 12:14 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Used

There's a discussion going on amongst some authors about used book sales that has me questioning a lot of things, so I thought I'd talk about it here and get some feedback.

The underlying question seems to be whether most folk know that authors don't get royalties on used book sales, and would an education campaign make a difference.

No one that I've talked to wants to stop used book sales. I've bought lots and lots of used books – primarily because there are lots and lots of books that go out of print, and when I'm jonesing for an author's backlist, nothing will stop me. On the other hand, the selling of used books when the new book is just out, or even before the new book hits retail is hard to swallow.

For me, personally, it just kills me when I go to Amazon and B&N and see the 'Buy this Used' right there next to the 'Buy this New' button. Why wouldn't folks buy it used? It's so much cheaper and it's the same book, so…

Just like everyone else, I want to make a decent living. Duh. And every time someone chooses the used book over the new book, it costs me. But I would never NEVER want to curtail anyone's reading, and if all they could afford was used, I'm all in favor of them buying used.

So I'm sitting here on the fence wondering about my participation in this education campaign. Would you be insulted if you saw a little blurb on my blog that gives some info about how used book sales work? Would you tell me to go fly a kite, and never buy my books again? Would you find it enlightening? Would it change anything at all about your buying habits?

I'd especially love to hear from readers, but you authors, I'd love your feedback too.


05.26.05 @ 01:41 PM MST [Link to Entry]

I Want To Believe

After a quick trip to Vegas (HOT!) we're back on the mountain, and I must say, it's perfect weather. Of course, I'm not going to be enjoying said weather, because I have to write my ass off. Saw Star Wars, which was fun, typed on the Neo, made a connection with an ex FBI agent, which is excellent, because I'm writing two books that have FBI agents in them.

Speaking of the FBI, the df and I were talking about where our willing suspension of disbelief hits. For him, as an example, he can't get behind CSI because of the time stuff. Crime happens, CSI gets DNA results in minutes. They infer that it takes some time, but even so, it's more magic than science if one believed the timeline. I don't care. I like the show, and I don't give the timing much thought.

On the other hand, I can't buy Without A Trace. A division of the FBI that doesn't exist isn't the clincher (after all, I believe deeply that there was, and might still be, the X-Files). But what I simply can't ignore is all these people, a whole team with resources big enough to fly an agent to Iraq! all to find one missing person. And only seconds after they disappear. Next time I lose my keys, I'm calling those guys, cause they're On The Job. Seriously. In NY, there's only one missing person? And the whole crew gets mobilized? Computers whir, cars are requisitioned, tax records are examined? Uh, no.

And yet, I'm totally there about a secret Stargate in Colorado. No prob.

Why is this? Why are some silly TV (and book) conventions totally okay, and some just make me gnash my teeth.

What's the line for you? Shows that others seem to love that you just can't buy?


05.25.05 @ 12:13 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Tagged - I'm It

I've been tagged by Alyssa: here are my answers.

Number of Books I Own
Not as many since I moved, but maybe 800?

Last Books I Bought

Strange Attractions Emma Holly
Mr. Impossible Lorretta Chase
America Jon Stewart et al
The Forensic Casebook Ngaire E. Genge
NYC Sex: How New York Transformed Sex in America Grady Turnder

Last Books I Read

Mr. Impossible Loretta Chase
Tell No One Harlan Coben

Five Books That Mean a Lot to Me

East of Eden John Steinbeck
I adored this book, and as with the others on this list, have read it many times. Kathy – greatest villain, Lee, favorite secondary character ever. I think I have to read it again.

Atlas Shrugged Ayn Rand
Changed my view of my teenage self. Huge

The Hornblower Series C.S. Forester
My favorite literary character ever.

Prince of Tides Pat Conroy
OMG, this book gave me every damn thing a book should give a human.

Shogun James Clavell
I read until I slumped in the chair from exhaustion. What a universe to fall into.

People I'm Tagging

Jill
Laurie



05.23.05 @ 11:00 AM MST [Link to Entry]

Oh, Deer

They look sweet and innocent, don't they? Awwww. But don't let their looks deceive you. Deep within these sweet little Disney adorable creatures lies vengeance, pure and evil. People around these parts hunt deer. I don't personally get it, but it happens. And these deer are Not Going To Take It Any More.

Unfortunately, they haven't learned how to differentiate between those who would shoot them and those who would like to have them over for cookies. Because awhile back, as we were minding our own business, driving to a local restaurant, a deer ran into us. Clearly with the intention of disabling us so that we would never take up a gun again. The deer didn't even ask if we were gun totin' badasses, it just rammed into us, breaking the side panel of the car.

Don't worry, the deer was fine. It ran off, laughing. Laughing! Well, okay, I didn't hear the laughter, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. While we, stunned at the assault, had to relearn how to breathe at a normal pace.

Now, this was something outside of my experience. Never once, when I lived in L.A. or Houston, or Vegas, did I have an encounter with an Attack Deer. But let me tell you, we're on our guard now. I suggested we paint a sign on the car, letting the deer know we are the Cookies for Deer type of folks, but the DF said it might piss off the elk. So we keep a sharp lookout for the vigilante deer and when they approach, we frantically point to cars with hemi engines.

And now, back to work.


05.21.05 @ 12:54 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Moving forward

Did y'all see last night's CSI? I thought it was really good. I got totally creeped out, of course, but I liked what Tarentino did with it. What was also kinda neat was that my ex-boyfriend was on it. He played Nick Stokes' dad. So that was fun.

I ended up doing 15 pages yesterday, which was great. I'm hearing them clearly. My characters, I mean, not the funny voices that tell me to do evil things, but that's for another post. Anywhoo, it was a great writing day. I needed a great writing day.

I also cleaned my office, and did some crunches. Seems that an object in motion stays in motion. Go figure.

Oh, and did anyone get the new O mag? All about men? If you haven't, do. It's fascinating, especially the series of articles by men about what women don't get about men. I know I'll post about some of them, and it would be neat to talk about it with y'all. (I lived in Houston, so I'm allowed to use y'all, FYI)

Okay, here's to everybody hearing the good voices in your head.




05.20.05 @ 01:57 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Home, home again

Slept in my own bed last night, and that's always wonderful. I used to love traveling so much. For many years, I worked on the road, and loved, loved, loved the hotels and the new sites. Now I still love to travel, to explore, but I'm not so crazy for the hotel thing. I want my stuff. It's taken me a long time to get my stuff, and at home, it's all the way I like it. Evidently, there's a day when some internal switch turns on that makes me want the familiar in the familiar way with no screwing around. I mean, they're going to move House from Tuesday to Monday. But I watch 24 and Medium on Monday, so just STOP IT. I'm serious. And what's with the covers on Blazes? They'd finally found something faboo (see HUSH if you don't believe me) and decided More Generic Is Better. All the flashes are round red dots? Ooooh, that's gonna make people pick up my book. The author names are tiny again? I don't get it, and dammit, just STOP IT.

Anyway… It's actually getting warmer here, and the DF is going fishing. I am not. I have to work. I have to work my damn ass off. Because I only got 10 pages done on the road. Sue me, I was busy looking out the window. It was green, people. Having lived in the world of white for 8 months, the green stuff seemed like magic. Trees! Grass! Flowers! As Ellen would say, it freaked my freak. (Do I watch too much television? Pshaw).

I also got to see my bestest buddy, which was so great. Oh, and we saw two movies which I really enjoyed. The surprise was Kung Fu Hustle. Not normally my cuppa, but this was witty and sly and oddly charming. I laughed a lot. The second movie was Sahara, which I also totally enjoyed. And boy, has Mathew buffed the hell up. Whoa. Fun stuff, and popcorn! It always amazes me that it costs more for the snacks than the movies. $9.75 for an adult ticket! $700 for a small coke and large popcorn. Jeez. And small cokes are now so huge you can take a little swim in them if you're warm. And they wonder why the box-office is declining. Do the math, people.

Okay, must work now. Must also put away the crap I brought back from the trip. And do some laundry. Maybe I will go fishing.


05.19.05 @ 01:30 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Hello warm weather

We're off to Vegas for a couple of days. Doing boring things like doctor and dentist, and gonna catch a movie or two. It's actually going to be hot there, in the high 80s, which, speaking from snow-in-mid-May land, sounds amazing. We're also going to shoot some pool, yay, but I expect I'll be lousy as I haven't played in a year. I miss my weekly league. The downside of this trip is that I have to work. So I'll tote my Alpha Smart Neo and I'm shooting for 15 pages per day. We should be back Wednesday, but maybe Thursday, not sure yet.



05.16.05 @ 11:46 AM MST [Link to Entry]

Cynics and believers

Got my new O magazine yesterday, and damn, I love it. There's always something that rings true for me in the pages.

Case in point:

"It takes courage to believe in things; sometimes things will disappoint you, sometimes people will let you down. To have faith is to risk having your heart broken, and the cynic isn't willing to take that risk."

This is from Boys Will Put You On a Pedestal(so they can look up your skirt), by Philip Van Munching.

My first thought upon reading this is that the romance readers among us are those with that faith, and that the cynics will never become romance readers unless something occurs in their lives that defeats the cynicism. So bitching about how some people denigrate romance without giving it a chance is pointless. They cannot, given the inherent inability to believe the premise of romance, change their minds. It's not about the work at all. It's about the place one comes from.

I know this because I was a cynic about romance for most of my life, and I had to go through some mighty heavy duty changes to arrive at "faith". In the before, no part of the romance fantasy rang true. Books, movies, TV shows, it didn't matter. If it was about "true love" I thought it was bullshit. Maybe pleasant bullshit, but false, nonetheless.

Even today this means that I can't get behind a romance unless the struggle to find love feels real to me. That the journey is not just finding the right guy, but about the transformation of the heroine (or hero) from a cynic to a believer. If a book doesn’t have that, I don't buy it.


05.14.05 @ 02:24 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Just down the hill

Although it's still snow up to the roofs up here, halfway down the mountain, the fish are jumping. Maybe, sometime in July, the lake that's just a few miles up from us will defrost. Maybe. But it is nice to look at, huh?

05.12.05 @ 10:24 PM MST [Link to Entry]

And tie it with a bow

It's my DF's birthday today (Happy Birthday) and he wishes I'd just ignore it. Sorry, impossible. I adore birthdays. Actually, I adore all holidays and remembrances that involve presents. I don't even care what the presents are, as long as I don't know what they are ahead of time, and I get to open them. It could be utter crap, and if it's gift wrapped, I'm giddy with glee.

When I was about 14, I used to love Here Comes The Bride, and especially Bobby Sherman. Probably you don't remember this, or him, but After Ilya Kuryakin (?) Bobby was my main crush. And my sister, Toni, surprised me by taking me to the set of the show, where I got to hang out with the cast, and meet the Love Of My Life. Unfortunately, I had the chicken pox (we were not aware of this problem at the time) and I evidently gave it to some of the lovely folks on the lot. My gift to them. How sweet.

Another memorable gift was the time my father flew overseas, and met the Beatles on the plane. He told me, on the phone, that he'd gotten me their autographs for my birthday. I was beside myself with excitement. Until he got home, and gave me this paper with names of people I didn't know from Adam. Definitely not the Beatles. Seems Dad wasn't exactly in the know. He figured they were a rock band and they had long hair, ergo, they must be Beatles. Yeah.

My birthday is Jan 19th. The same as Robert E. Lee and Dolly Parton. And my Dad. And for the past umpty-ump years, Dad has said the exact same thing to me when we call to wish each other a happy birthday: "I think I want to exchange this present." Isn't he a card? But I do feel kind of bad that he always had to share with me. No one should have to share a birthday.

Back to DF. Because he hates birthdays and I love them, I think I'll start a new tradition. I'll get myself a present. In his honor, of course. And it'll be gift wrapped.


05.12.05 @ 02:28 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Contest, kind of

Larissa

has a post on

Romancing the Blog

about gritty writing that I found really interesting.

I also like grit, but I've kind of trained myself out of it by writing category. Although I do get more intense with sex, it's the characterization that I tend to color with a light fuzzy brush.

I wrote an Intrigue that wasn't in the least fuzzy. In fact, I knew when I was writing it that it probably wouldn't fly with Intrigue, but the writing took over. When I turned it in, my editor liked it a lot, but said it needed to be toned Way the hell down. That in fact, since I'd written my first Intrigue several years before, the guidelines for the line had changed. No cursing. Not even shit. Nothing that would imply anything Bad happening to the Heroine. I was told the readers had spoken and they wanted soft-kitten PIs and behind-the-curtain violence.

I loved the hard as nails book I wrote. My title had been Dark Xanadu. In fact, I used quotes from the Coleridge poem throughout the book, because it fit perfectly. I bought it back. (Actually, they were wonderful, and didn't ask for the money back. They just asked for a replacement book, which turned out to be Christmas Stalking). And I tried to sell Xanadu as an ST. But it turns out it was too category for ST. So it didn't work as a category, and it didn’t work as a ST. I figured I'd revise, make it truly ST. But real life intervened and I was buying a house, and I needed the $$ now, so I ate crow, asked if they'd still publish Xanadu if I made their changes. They said yes, and I took out the sexual sadism and the gritty violence. And they named it Not-So-Secret Baby.

I'm very grateful I was able to do that, despite the fact that I loved the original version. I know there are more books inside me. I can't mourn for it, because it saved my ass. I'm writing a "gritty" ST now, and it feels right.

The point of this long blabber is that I'm taking a hard look at how I'm soft peddling my books. Blazes, I mean. Which is a good thing, I think, although it's playing havoc with the current Blaze. But I'm trying not to soft-peddle myself out of interesting characters. Which can only make the books better. It's a bit more difficult with Intrigue, because I simply don't get soft-kitten dangerous.

The contest I spoke of is one I'm not even sure anyone would be interested in, but what they hell. I've got the original Dark Xanadu living in my hard drive. If someone wants to read it, let me know. If by some weirdness more than one person wants to read it, I'll pick a name. Or maybe send it to all, I don't know.

PS - clearly, I don't know how to do links. I suck at links. ::sigh::


05.11.05 @ 03:27 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Welcome to the Muddle

"Every novel should have a beginning, a muddle and an end."

Peter De Vries

So I’m experimenting. Coming at this book from a different place, which is to have the big turning points clear in my head without detailing the in-between. It's so not working. For whatever reason, I need to have the purpose and direction of the scene clearly in my head before I write it. If not, I stare at the screen for long periods of time, or if I do write, I ramble.

Okay then. So it's back to the plotting. Fine. Be that way.

In other news, I've got the idea for the TT novella nailed, and yay! I like it, and I think it'll be really fun to write. Of course, I'm far more interested in writing the next project than the current project. But that's been true since about book 4.

I'm convinced, however, that I will, at some point, fall in love with the current wip. It will probably happen when I least expect it. When the scene takes over and I'm just hanging on for the ride. Today would be nice.


05.10.05 @ 01:55 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Present

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody."
Bill Cosby




I got a note from someone who'd read one of my books, which is always lovely. One of the things said was that this woman didn't tend to read Blaze novels because they were so "Harlequinized" for want of a better word.

As I'm writing, that sentence keeps popping into my brain. Because I find myself writing things that are, indeed, Harlequinized. This tends to happen mostly when I'm not present. I mean, obviously I'm sitting at the computer, and it's my fingers typing, but I'm not wholly engaged in the work. I'm typing, not writing.

This is the danger, for me, at least, that gets worse the more books I write. I can easily go into automatic mode, and because I know the drill, the typing can take over in a flash. Then I find the clichés, the same old same old, and eek. That's the point when the reader remembers that she hasn't cleaned out the sock drawer and must do it immediately.

My success, whatever that may be, resides completely in my voice. I believe that with all my heart. I have nothing without that, without the individuality of my sentence structure, of my dialogue. If I’m not engaged in the process, the first thing to go is just that. My voice becomes muffled and then it's no longer the me of my writing.

I think if there's one thing I could pass along to new writers it would be to protect your voice. My ideal is that someone could pick up any of my books, without seeing a cover or a name, and know it was something I wrote. So today, I'm going to immerse myself in the world of this book, of these characters, in this setting.



05.09.05 @ 12:29 PM MST [Link to Entry]

It's a wonderful day in the neighborhood

It's interesting to me how the fabric of my life changes depending on where I am in the writing cycle. There comes a point in every book where the book takes over the world. This is because I'm a panic writer. I wait until I don't have enough time to finish before the deadline, and then I'm incredibly stressed, become a bitch of epic proportions, and generally lose sleep and my sanity.

And I'm zeroing in on that space as I type. The whole muti-tasking thing? Where I'm writing on the ST, doing a synopsis for the time travel, helping my friend with her book? Oh, yeah, that's working out real well. My brain is laughing its ass off. Because I'm one of those geniuses who, when faced with a long list of tasks, buckles down immediately to play solitaire.

So, um, now I'm going to write. No, really. I am. No solitaire for this gal. Just work, work, work. And maybe breakfast.


05.07.05 @ 12:52 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Fun and Not So Fun

It's fun when research and my personal taste are so neatly entwined. For my TT anthology, I'm researching the Stage Door Canteen in 1945. Love the music, love the clothes, love the feeling of the folks in NY during that time. I've found some interesting sites that talk about what happened back then, but I'm hoping to uncover some memoirs of folks, preferably women, who lived in Manhattan. That would just be excellent.

Also went to town today, after the road closure (which isn't finished, they're just taking a break). Because we're not tired enough of winter, it snowed. A lot. It's still snowing. I'm understanding The Shining in a whole new way.

I'm also thinking about getting an inexpensive laptop. We only have an Alpha, but man, I think if we could have connected to the web, we'd have turned the car west today, and driven anywhere warm. And we'd have stayed for a week.

So anyone have a great, inexpensive laptop rec? Or a spell that will bring spring to our mountain? Please???


05.06.05 @ 07:55 PM MST [Link to Entry]

To All the Books I've Loved Before

I know people who don't read, but I don't understand them. I simply can't conceive of a world without books. My life has been framed by novels, informed, transformed, given breadth and weight.

As a child, my family would go on vacations to Palm Springs, and the very first thing we did, before even checking into the hotel, was stop at a book store where we would each load our arms with wonderful new novels, the anticipation so great we all laughed at nothing. It was a glorious way to spend a week. Sitting out at the pool, blissfully unaware of sun damage and SPF anything. Floating on a plastic raft, turning the pages until the sun dipped over the mountains.

There were books that changed the very core of how I thought about myself. Catcher in the Rye. Atlas Shrugged. East of Eden. I can so vividly recall my excitement at reading these books, I fairly thrummed with new insights, and I had to –had to!- talk about them, although, sadly, none of my friends were much on books. Odd, that, but I guess I made up for it later.

I used to shiver with anticipation when I first opened a really thick, juicy book. Five Smooth Stones. The Far Pavilions. Hawaii. It would hurt, actually ache, when I had to put the book down for any reason. How many nights did I stay up way too late, and pay for my sin the next day?

And when I meet people who tell me blithely that they haven't read a novel in umpty-ump years, or that they don't care for fiction, I think, how? How can you not have had that kind of joy? How did you learn about living in medieval times, or fighting a British frigate? Are all your references just from television? From talking within your small sphere? Perhaps now, with the internet, you learn of the world, of the past, of the hopes and dreams of people far, far away, from chat rooms?

I never went to college, and never regretted the decision, but I also never felt my education lacked one single thing. Because of books. Because I read as I breathed.

I think my biggest regret since becoming a writer myself is that I don't read like I used to. I'm still rarely without a book, but so much of my reading is non-fiction. I want to sit down with something fat and mysterious, and dive into the deep end. I want to read Prince of Tides for the first time, again. Oh, wouldn't that be something?

I need my books. It's not optional. And I need to –need to! –talk about them. So, tell me about the books that changed you. That made your heart pound, that made you stay up all night. It's time for me to fill the well.


05.05.05 @ 05:03 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Elvis and Other News

Although I was under the impression that titles couldn't be copywrited, it turns out that the Presley estate has done just that. I'm in an anthology with Stephanie Bond and Joanne Rock with an Elvis theme. The title had been Love Me Tender. Now, it's called

Love So Tender.

In the immortal words of pretty much everyone on the net, WTF?

It's a fun anthology, and I enjoyed writing it, so I hope folks give it a try. I've only seen the original cover, not the revamped one with the new title. I'll post it here when it's available.

In other news, I love The Daily Show. Seriously love it. And since I've taken the head-in-the-sand approach to world news, it's pretty much my source of information about the outside world. Which totally works for me. I used to religiously read the newspaper and watch the news and read Time and Newsweek. Nowadays, I just don't. I get upset and angry when I do, so I ignore it all, except for Jon Stewart and his band of merry lunatics.

And just for the record? Waking up with a killer headache is not fair. A person should wake up with at least a fighting chance of a good morning.



05.04.05 @ 02:27 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Mountain roads and time travel

They've closed the road on the mountain until Saturday. Which would be fine, except it's the only road we've got. Actually, they've closed it from 7 am to 7 pm, but since it's still snowing, and we don't have a 4 wheel drive car, it's difficult for us to leave during the open hours. So basically, you can't get there from here.

However, being the wild and crazy kids that we are, we went to town last night at 5pm! Talk about living dangerously. Actually, it was a little tricky getting down the long and winding road. They're clearing rocks. Big honkin' rocks. One was the size of a Volkswagen, but most are mid-sized. But we did it. Got to have dinner at the Chinese restaurant. Got to go to the post office (royalties arrived!) and to the grocery store. We realized though that we wouldn't be going down the mountain again until Saturday.

I believe the whole plot is a way to make sure I put my butt in the chair and work.

And speaking of work…I want to talk about time travel books. Do you like them? Are there conceits that you buy completely? How important is it to you how the transfer from one time to another takes place? If you were sent back in time, where would you like to go?



05.03.05 @ 11:40 AM MST [Link to Entry]

Auction!

Do go check out

Jamie's Fund Auctions

There are some incredible opportunities for critiques, books, and more. All for a great cause.

05.02.05 @ 01:26 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Dialogue

I watched one of my favorite movies yesterday, BROADCAST NEWS, written by James L. Brooks, and, as always happens when I watch it, I was struck by the intelligence of the dialogue. These characters are unabashedly intelligent, the issues they deal with are real and thoughtful, and the conflicts are as close to the bone as it gets.

Not one cliché in the movie. Just smart people with real issues, wit, charm and sophistication. Here's an example:

JANE
I told what's his name -- Tom --
that I'd meet him.
AARON
Call him -- I mean it can wait,
right?
JANE
(now the plunge)
I don't know. I may be in love
with him.
AARON
(as if he just burned
his hand)
No!!!!!
She starts for the door.
AARON
Don't go.
JANE
This is important to me.
AARON
Yeah. Well...I think it is
important for you too. Sit down.
She sits. He walks to a desk and looks at her briefly... Silence.
JANE
What?
AARON
(looking at her)
Let me think a second. It's
tough.
A remarkably long silence -- her mind wanders, she takes stock...
it is evident that he is straining to get it right, reaching
into himself.
AARON
Aaach...Jane...
(glancing at note)
Let's take the part that has
nothing to do with me. Let's let
me be your most trusted friend,
the one that gets to say awful
things to you. You know?
JANE
(testy and wary
but fair)
Yes, I guess. Yes.
AARON
You can't end up with Tom because
it goes totally against everything
you're about.
JANE
Yeah -- being a basket case.
AARON
I know you care about him. I've
never seen you like this about
anyone, so please don't take it
wrong when I tell you that I believe
that Tom, while a very nice guy, is
the Devil.
JANE
(quickly)
This isn't friendship.
AARON
What do you think the Devil is going
to look like if he's around? Nobody
is going to be taken in if he has a
long, red, pointy tail. No. I'm
semi-serious here. He will look
attractive and he will be nice and
helpful and he will get a job where
he influences a great God-fearing
nation and he will never do an evil
thing...he will just bit by little bit
lower standards where they are important.
Just coax along flash over substance...
Just a tiny bit. And he will talk about
all of us really being salesmen.
(seeing he's not
reaching her)
And he'll get all the great women.
She is getting pissed.
JANE
I think you're the Devil.
AARON
No. You know that I'm not.
JANE
How?
AARON
Because we have the kind of
relationship where if I were the
Devil, you'd be the only one I
told.

And then, I went back to my wip and gasped at what I'd written. I'm writing the first kiss. I cringed when I read it. Because there was nothing, NOTHING, non-generic about this kiss. It could have been any two people in any romance novel.

So I deleted the whole thing, and I’m restructuring the scene so that there's more dialogue. Because dialogue, especially in this book, is the key. It's what's important about the scene. These two people, who've known each other only online, need to learn about each other, and that happens mostly through conversation. It would be very easy to stay in their thoughts, but that would be cheating. They need to talk! And talk intelligently, with subtext. Their conversation needs to illustrate their fear, their hope, their desire.

And since this is the first really big moment for the two of them, it needs to set the tone for the rest of the story. Can I do it? Can I, through subtext, show that they're both scared to death, and at the same time, holding that hope that he/she might be the one?

Jeez. It's just so easy to take the path of least resistance. To write what I've written before. To go for the obvious. But then I see something like Broadcast News, or I read a book that makes me ache to know the characters because they're so real, so unique. And the only answer is to know my characters as well as I know myself, and to treat them with the respect they deserve.

Okay, back to it. A kiss isn't just a kiss, dammit. It's their kiss.


05.02.05 @ 12:16 PM MST [Link to Entry]

Glorious Spring!

Of course, the date is wrong because we can't figure out how to fix it.

05.01.05 @ 10:24 PM MST [Link to Entry]

The last one, for now

So, I'm working for a company called Jozak, and we have offices at MGM. We were on the fourth floor of what they called the Executive building, and my personal office had last been used by Sylvester Stallone, although he didn't leave a damn thing of interest behind. Above our floor were the offices of a Big Executive Producer, whose name I can't recall, but who was embroiled in an enormous scandal a few years later.

Anyway, one of the people who worked with me a Jozak was Tina Sinatra. (I was in her office one day and I answered her phone – it was her dad. I was instantly a bumbling idiot, and she didn't let me forget it). As you can imagine, lots of really interesting people came to visit Tina. One day, I'm getting in the elevator, which was the slowest elevator on earth, and there are three others with me: Tina, Big Executive and Dudley Moore. Now the exec, who arrived at work everyday in his Rolls Royce Corniche and who was dressed in this suit that even I knew cost more than my yearly salary, nods his hello to Tina and Dudley. (Not me, I was a grunt). We press the buttons, us for the third floor, him for the fourth.

As the elevator inches it's way up, Tina and Dudley are chatting, and there's this really big, LOUD, fart.

I know I didn't do it. All speaking stops, and I see Tina holding back, and Dudley is looking at the ceiling. Stuffy Exec is staring straight ahead, the only sign of discomfort the red creeping up his neck.

We continue the ride from hell, and as we reach the second floor…you guessed it. Another one. If possible, louder than the first.

I'm dying. The Exec's face is now turning scarlet, and I'm thinking embolism, and Tina's losing it. I want nothing more than to get off the elevator.

Exec doesn't move a muscle. We finally, finally, reach our floor, and the three of us get out. Once the elevator door closes, we completely fall apart. Tears in the eyes, unable to stand laughing. And then, Dudley shows us – he had a gag fart thingee in his hand. Turns out they'd waited for this guy to get in the elevator for ten minutes!

Ah, yes. Good times.


05.01.05 @ 11:03 AM MST [Link to Entry]