Tag Archive | novel

Can a Genre Die?

Courtesy of Wikicommons

My little corner of the writer’s world was all in a tizzy last week after an article published at Dear Author that suggested that the Historical Romance genre be allowed to die.

Oh horror!

Of course, when you read the article you see that what the author of Dear Author was getting at is that right now there are just so many Regency novels out there with plots that feel stale and recycled, that it’s time to move on to something else. I believe her argument is that if Historical Romance has nothing more to offer than Regency after Regency, everyone will get bored and go home.

Compounding that problem are the cringe-worthy reports from some of my author friends that the traditional publishing agency is caught between disinterest in signing new authors who write Regency, but being unwilling to take a gamble on non-Regency authors, especially new authors, because Historical Romance in general just isn’t selling right now. Of course, there are exceptions to every rule, but from what I’ve seen this seems to be more true than not. Continue reading →

2013 Book #3 – Writing the Breakout Novel, by Donald Maass

May1

So why has it taken me so long to read and post a book report about this book when the last book report was weeks ago? Well, it’s because this is one of the most juicy, rich, thought-provoking books on the writing craft that I’ve read in a long time! It was excellent. It also made me cringe and roll my eyes a couple of times. Why? I’ll tell you….

But I’ll only tell you a little bit at a time, because there was so much in this book that I need to read it again. And again. And then talk about each chapter individually. I’ll start out with telling you why every writer should read it. Continue reading →

Fool for Love – Cover Reveal!

Apr1

April showers bring May flowers … and they also bring the release of the second book in the Montana Romance series!

So without further ado, I give you Fool for Love.

Eric Quinlan was born a cowboy and a rancher and intends to die a cowboy and a rancher. But when his ranch is in danger of failing, he travels to the wilds of London looking for a business deal to save it. What he finds there are stuffed shirts, odd manners, and a damsel in distress.

Amelia Elphick’s life is over. She may have been born a lady, but when she finds herself jilted by a lover who leaves her pregnant and refuses to marry her, she seems destined for a life on the streets. When her employer’s rough but handsome houseguest, Eric, offers to rescue her from ruin, she has no choice but to say yes, even if it means moving halfway around the world.

But Amelia finds herself saying yes to more than a ticket west. What starts with a harmless lie tangles Amelia and Eric in a web of desire and deceit that exposes passions and turns their worlds upside-down. Eric believes Amelia holds the key to saving his beloved ranch and giving him the family he always wanted, but can he save her from the demons of her past without losing himself in the process?

People do foolish things when they’re in love….

The eBook of Fool for Love will be available on April 20th, with the print version to come shortly thereafter. But to get you started, here’s a taste…

Fool for Love: Chapter One

The ballroom of Mr. Reginald Hamilton’s townhouse was awash in bright, swirling colors. The lamps were all lit, bathing the room in a warm, sparkling glow. Musicians played a lively waltz. The scents of candles, perfume, and bodies was rich as half of London society danced their cares away. But above it all, the room buzzed with the sound of lords and ladies chattering and gossiping.

Amelia Elphick wedged her way through it all, heart pounding terror in her throat, one hand clutching the not-so subtle curve of her stomach. Her simple cotton skirt and blouse marked her as an interloper even as she struggled to keep her head high.

“Who is that?” she caught one of the fine ladies murmuring.

“Dear Lord, that’s Sir Robert deLaurent’s daughter!” a second woman gasped.

Amelia blanched, pushing on through the crush. It was too late to turn back.

“Look at the state of her!” the first woman said.

“I heard she’s the governess here now,” the second woman informed her with a haughty sniff.

“That’s not what I meant,” the first replied. “Look at the state of her.”

Amelia dropped her trembling hand from her belly. She was well aware that she was past the point where her sins would be able to go unnoticed. But this was her last chance. Nick was at this ball.

She spotted him several yards away, deep in conversation with her employer, Mr. Hamilton. Nicholas Hayworth stood tall and handsome, the aristocratic lines of his face sharp in the lamplight. The rich blue of his eyes and black of his hair drew the attention of every woman in the room, just as it had drawn her in. She knew that face so well, knew every contour of his nimble body. Even now, with shame threatening like a thundercloud, she wanted to embrace that body, to melt into him and have him tell her everything would be alright.
A man cut into her path as she surged towards Nick, causing her to trip over her feet and his. She flailed for balance and knocked a glass out of one of a fine guest’s hands. The man caught her, but the sound of shattering glass and a lady shrieking broke through the hum of gossip. All eyes snapped to her.

“Watch it there, Miss Amelia.”

Amelia raised wary eyes to the man who had both tripped and caught her. Her heart sank. Of all the Hamilton’s guests, she had bumbled into Mr. Quinlan, the American that had been staying in the house for the last few months. The hush that had followed her spill burst into a full roar of whispers.

“You alright?” Mr. Quinlan asked again as he brushed imaginary dirty off of her skirt.

All Amelia could manage was a tight nod. “I’m fine, thank you.”

It was a lie. She swallowed and turned her eyes to Nick. He had seen her stumble. Everyone had seen her stumble. Nick stared at her, his head tilted with aloof grace. She had to do this now, before it was too late. She rushed through the gap that had formed in the crowd as all eyes bored into her.

“Nick,” she kept her voice low as she reached him, “Nick I must speak with you. It is a matter of utmost urgency.”

She reached out to him. Nick backed away. His eyes darted through the crowd that now watched him as much as her.

“I have nothing to say to you, Miss Elphick,” he hissed, face growing red.

“Please, Nick!” Amelia entreated. “You know … you know what it’s come to.” She smoothed her hand over the bump of her belly, outlining it for all to see.

Nick sniffed and backed further away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

To his side, Reginald Hamilton’s back stiffened. His eyes went round with shock and disgust. “Miss Elphick!” he exclaimed in a whisper. “What is the meaning of this?”

A flash of boldness stiffened Amelia’s back and her resolve. “Ask Mr. Hayworth,” she said. “It is his doing.”

Nick blanched, glance shooting wildly around to the eavesdropping guests. “How dare you!”

“No, Nick, how dare you!” Her attempt at bravado withered as the horror of the situation spilled over her. “I have your child growing inside of me and you know it. You have known it all along, yet you turn your back on me.”

“Miss Elphick,” Mr. Hamilton was red with rage, “Have I have entrusted the care of my precious little girls to a harlot?”
Before Amelia could summon a defense, Nick muttered, “Like mother, like daughter.”

The pitch of whispered gossip around her spun with such fevered intensity that Amelia thought she might swoon. Ripples of shock spread through the room as London’s finest stood on tip-toes to see the tragic farce unfold.

Amelia forced herself to meet Nick’s eyes with what was left of her pride. “I loved you. We were to be married … before.”

“Yes, well that clearly isn’t the case now.” The sneer that bit at Nick’s beautiful face was too much to bear. Every promise he had made her shattered.

“My family is not what it once was,” she made one last attempt to stave off ruin, “but you and I have been friends for too long to break over such things. I thought … I thought you still cared for me.”

“I care for certain parts of you,” Nick replied, his eyes flickering down.

“Mr. Hayworth,” Mr. Hamilton warned, “my house has seen enough scandal for one night. Pray do not make it double.”

“Forgive me, sir.” Nick bowed low to his host. “It was not my wish to disrupt your magnificent gathering. That, I believe, was the lady’s intent.” His eyes pierced Amelia with such malevolence that her heart withered.

“I have no wish to make our private emergencies public,” Amelia countered.

“Our emergencies?” Nick balked. “I think not.”

Amelia’s chest constricted in panic. “You must help me, Nick,” she implored in barely more than a whisper. “You must-”

“There is nothing I must do,” he clipped his reply. “You have ruined yourself, now face the consequences.”

Amelia gulped, tears now stinging her eyes as the weight of her sins piled down on her. She stole a desperate glance around the room. Men and women who had smiled and welcomed her at her coming-out just three short years ago now turned up her noses at her as if she was diseased, all because she couldn’t control her instincts.

Her cheeks burned scarlet in humiliation. With one last deep breath she laid her life at Nick’s feet.

“So you have no intention of fulfilling your responsibility towards….” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t even think that Nick’s child was inside of her. “After all we-”

“Enough, Miss Elphick!” Mr. Hamilton snapped. “Go to your room! We will discuss this in the morning.”

Amelia snapped back, blinking rapidly. She had heard that tone of voice, seen the same sharp glower from Mr. Hamilton when one of his daughters had disobeyed. She took another step back, lowering her head. It was no use resisting. Her great gamble had been a failure. Her life was over.

She turned to flee, but where she had hoped to find a quick escape, she was met by a wall of faces. Women and men of refinement and breeding, their jewels as bright as the scorn in their eyes, stared at her as though she was a guttersnipe loose amongst her betters. The turned up lips, the pointed glares at the bulge of her stomach, the whispering behind hands and fans struck Amelia like a blow.

It took all of her effort to put one foot in front of the other. Her whole body shook as she walked through the crowded ballroom. The musicians had stopped playing, the dancers had stopped dancing. Her heart had stopped beating. She couldn’t lift her head or raise her eyes to meet any of them. With all the awkward humiliation of her fall, she shuffled towards the door.

“Of course you’d expect that from Sophia deLaurent’s daughter,” someone murmured to her left.

“She always did give herself airs,” another voice chased her, “but ones true nature always shows through the gloss, doesn’t it.”

“Such a pity,” a male voice chuckled to her right. “I wonder how much she’ll charge once she’s taken her place on the market.”

Amelia burst into a sob, clapping a hand to her mouth. It was over. She didn’t care who she crashed into or whose toes she stepped on as she fled the room at a run.

She passed Mr. Quinlan, who was red with fury. It was no more than she deserved. She was furious with herself for the folly that had cast her out of the life she’d tried to resurrect for herself. But there was no hiding from the truth of who one really was at heart.

Haven’t read the first book in the Montana Romance series, Our Little Secrets? Well what are you waiting for? Pick up a copy of the novel InD’Tale Magazine gave 4.5 stars (and 5 steamy kettles) and a crowned heart in their March issue and called “A totally unique and refreshing bit of fun!”

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0087KI4T4

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0087KI4T4

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/167282

B&N – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/our-little-secrets-merry-farmer/1111649170?ean=2940033267514

The In-Between Place

Mar27

In the last couple of months I’ve talked a lot about how to write, from gritting your way through that first draft to knuckling down and doing the hard work of editing. We’ve talked about how writing isn’t easy, how it takes focus and determination to develop a story from being a cool idea to a finished work ready to find its way out there in the world. But now we come to that part of the writing process that baffles me the most. Yes, this is where I completely lose my footing and start to flail.

Not writing.

After every book, after the hard work and the tears as you rearrange your entire life for your work, there comes a time when you’re just … done. Yep, believe it or not. Whether it’s because your novel is in the hands of the editor or beta-readers or because you’re busy submitting it, or even because you’ve done all the fancy work of publishing your novel yourself and getting it out there, you will face a time when you’re not writing.

Well, not actively writing. A writer is always hard at work on something, even if it’s in their own head. I have a thousand stories that all seem to be going at the same time. Most of them are mere light entertainments in my imagination that help me get to bed at night. Some of them are prototype ideas that may end up being fleshed out and novelized someday. But there are those times when I’m not working on anything in particular at all.

Granted, for me these times are short. They usually come about because I’m waiting for something else. Because I plan to make this weird writing gig my only profession someday I kind of have this sense of urgency. It’s as if every word is a penny and if I don’t write enough I won’t be able to eat or pay the electric bill. Maybe not the healthiest way to look at things, but it is realistic.

So what do you do with this time? How do you make it productive even when you’re not producing?

One obvious answer is to spend this time working on marketing. It’s a good time to write a bunch of blog posts, whether for guest appearances on blogs that support the kind of writing you do or for your own blog. You’re used to spending those hours writing, aren’t you? Why not use them for a different sort of writing?

The problem with this is that sometimes you reach the end of a project and all of that tightly-wound discipline falls apart. You’re burnt out. And as much as you love writing, the thought of sitting down and tapping out a thousand word guest blog post makes you cringe.

Fortunately, just because you’re not writing doesn’t mean you have to write.

I’ve found that one of the very best things to do when slumping between books is to read. Reading is essential to the art and craft of writing. As Stephen King so famously says, if you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time and skills to write. Consider it your homework. There is so much to be learned from the simple act of reading a book that will help you to be well-armed when the time comes to start the next novel. Read everything, every genre, whether it’s “your” genre or not. There are always surprises out there waiting for you, but you won’t find them if you don’t open the pages or turn on your e-reader.

Another of my favorite activities while between books is watching movies. For me, movies and a few really special tv shows (usually produced by the BBC) are a brilliant way to study plot and character. I like to see the way characters move and talk and navigate their way through situations. Some people say that tv is the enemy of writers and that you can’t learn from watching it or watching movies. I don’t know. Yeah, I do think you learn more about writing by reading, but I am of the school of thought that says there’s value in good tv and well-done movies too. At the very least, visual stories tell me what my heroes and heroines look like.

And, of course, there’s my personal favorite down-time activity: daydreaming. Particularly while driving or walking. I am a big fan of the Horatio Hornblower books by C.S. Forrester, and I once read an essay he wrote about his creative process. He talked about how his stories all came out of a “primordial ooze” of plot and character that existed with him all the time. I like to think that that primordial story ooze is charged with life in those moments when the imagination can wander off on its own. It’s a kind of meditation, really. It’s something we can both indulge in and learn from.

The time will always come when we must start the next novel. The good news is, if you’ve given your imagination enough of a rest, it can come back excited and stronger than ever. That’s the time to start any new books, when the iron is hot. We heat that iron in those down-times when it looks like we’re not doing anything. But it’s true, a writer is never not writing. It’s as constant as the blood that courses through our veins every moment of every day. Give it a rest now and then, but only so you can jump back into it, ready to go.

How to Revise Your Novel – Part Three: The Little Things Count

Mar13

Okay, so you’ve written a novel. You’ve started to revise it. You’ve read through and jotted down all of the problems it has. You’ve gone back and rewritten the major plot problems. What next?

Now it’s time to tackle the little things.

Sort out all the little things

Little things might not seem all that important when you’re trying to iron out continuity errors and issues with point of view and voice, but once you’ve got your novel pretty much where you want it, the little things are what will make or break it. This is where you have to stop seeing your book as your baby and start dealing with it as if you were a reader taking a look at it for the first time.

You guessed it, this is the part of revising that gets slow and tedious. When I hit this stage of revisions I tend to read and reread everything at least five or six times as I go through. I start at the beginning and judge each paragraph that I’ve written for how it sounds in my head, if it’s interesting, if it advances the action of the plot, and if it keeps its focus.

The way your words sound is all-important. I have some good habits and some bad habits that I do without thinking about them. On the good side, I tend to use consonance and assonance as I write. Consonance is using similar consonants within a sentence (kind of like alliteration without going overboard). Assonance is using similar vowel sounds. To me that makes for easy to read sentences and I look out for them in revisions.

On the bad side, I am horrible at repeating the same word a billion times in the same paragraph. I also tend to include way more prepositional phrases than any sentence really needs in my first drafts. This is the time in the revision process where a lot of words get cut. Again, it comes back to knowing my weaknesses and being able to see them.

Another thing I tend to do at this point is check my exposition to dialog levels. Any time I have more than three paragraphs together without any dialog I have to really question what I’m doing and why. Sometimes I need a long period of narrative. But you know what? Most of the time I don’t.

Side story…. At lunch the other day I was talking with two coworkers who are both avid readers. We were sharing the things that really bother us that writers do. Guess what? All three of us agreed strongly that when a writer in any genre goes on for more than half a page without any dialog they start to lose us. You heard it, folks! Readers don’t want to listen to you talk, they want to listen to your characters talk.

Back to revisions….

What about those sections where it’s just not appropriate to have dialog? This is where I pay careful attention to paragraph breaks. Once upon a time, I used to write really long paragraphs. Like, epic paragraphs that would have gone on for pages on an eReader. Then I saw the light.

Breaking paragraphs into smaller chunks is not only easy on the eyes of the reader, it’s a great way to suspend or speed up the pace of your writing. At this stage of revisions, as I’m reading quickly through a page or chapter, I pay close attention to whether I’ve broken the paragraphs in the right place. Most of the time a lot of cutting and pasting happens and the paragraphs of my first draft end up shorter.

Actually, these guys aren’t here to illustrate a point, I just wanted to show off another vacation picture I took last weekend.

It’s all about focusing on one thought at a time. It’s also about knowing how to lead the reader on from one point to the next. Just like a page can get boring when there is too much exposition without a lot of dialog, a paragraph can get boring if it has too many ideas in it. Great ideas often get lost in over-long paragraphs.

And then comes good old-fashioned killing your darlings. Yes, this is the stage of the game where all those unnecessary descriptions, ungainly clauses, and excess adjectives go bye-bye.

I was always puzzled about the advice of cutting 10% of what you’ve written in a first draft. In my uneducated mind I thought that meant cutting story elements. But no, I have come to learn that what cutting 10% really means is trimming off all the fat from sentences and paragraphs. Like I said, I tend to write too many prepositional phrases in my first drafts. I’m really precise about things being in the shelf of the bureau on the right side of the room or the hero leading the heroine by the hand to the bed. No. Just … no!

I’m kind of just scratching the tip of the iceberg here. There are a thousand different little things that make all of the difference when revising a novel. The key is to find the ones you know are your bad habits and to keep an eye out for them. It’s not the substance of the story that counts at this stage of the game, it’s how you tell it. But you are going to get back to the substance of story, plot, and character after your next big revision step: seeking professional help. Next week I’ll talk about what to do when you get all those critiques, opinions, and editorial comments back.

But for now, what are some of your bonehead things that you do all the time … in your manuscript, without thinking, on your own?

Merry Farmer

An Historical Romance