Heart's Blood - It has a Cover!!

Okay, so I did promise the magnificence that is the cover to Heart's Blood, the second book in my steampunk blood magic universe. It truly is beautimous.

Look! There are little mechanical spiders with red eyes down in the lower left hand corner. There is Big Ben. There are moody clouds. There is even the villain lurking behind the title. And there is a quote from the wonderful Nalini Singh (who is one of my favoritest people now, besides writing really great books).

Admittedly, I think the hero looks a tad young, even though they've olded him up a bit. And okay, I have to admit that I visualized him--well, actually, I started off visualizing him as oh, this guy-- but he didn't stay that way.

Partway through New Blood, (the first book, remember?) Grey Carteret, the hero of Heart's Blood, morphed into Johnny Depp, as seen in the movie From Hell. It wasn't my idea. It was totally Grey's.

But hey, it totally worked. For some reason, especially when the characters are the ones who decide how they look, they acquire personalities and do a lot of dictating of the story. I didn't have to make up Grey's banter. He just spouted it off for me to take down...

And yes, I know exactly what Harry Tomlinson looks like, and he is providing his dialogue and the rest of it for book 3--but I'm not telling you who plays his part, because-- Well, just because...

So, if you want, you can paste the one face over the other face, or if you like the one on the cover better, you can imagine that one, or whatever suits your fancy. I just thought I'd let you know a little bit about the weird way I work. (Yes, it is true, I have never grown up. I still have imaginary friends. Scientists have done a study of novelists and other writers of fiction, and shown that we (authors) relate to our characters in an identical fashion to how children relate to their imaginary friends.) Sometimes I cast my characters. Sometimes they cast themselves, and there's nothing I can do about it... In my head, in Grey's behavior, Mr. Depp plays the part of Grey Carteret...

Stuck!

I don't know if I've mentioned it here before, but I usually don't get writer's block. I'm not going to say I never get it, because sure as shooting, I'll come down with a raging case next blink of my eyes, but I can't remember having a lot of trouble writing, except once when I got into a knock-down drag-out argument with my hero who refused to do something until I pointed out to him the situation, and he finally admitted that he probably would do what I wanted him to do--but he'd be real upset with himself the next day.

There you go--I'm queen of the run-on sentence. Anyway, like I said, I don't usually just come to a complete and grinding halt and find myself unable to write another word. I get the stupids. That's where every word that flows out of the pen is just ... stupid. The narrative is stupid. The dialog is stupid, the characters are Stupid and everything is just Stupid, STUPID, STUPID! However, this week--okay, today--it's been rough going. I kept having to stop to figure stuff out.

It wasn't so much that I had to stop for research, though I did need to be sure that people have to go before a magistrate to have a bail set, and that solicitors are the ones who accompany someone for bail, in England. But I could have fudged that. Left gaps till I had time to do more thorough research. (Besides, I have a source in the newsroom--Ian the Brit answers all kinds of questions willingly for me.)(And I'm going to have to break down and get a historical map of London. Sigh.)

Where I really ran into problems was when I realized I didn't know exactly how the magic worked that I was using. I hadn't thought things through, and I needed to. I needed to know how magicians interacted with the spirits they call, and what the morality of the magic was. That stuff was important. And I figured out that conjury was as inherently moral as sorcery, in my universe. I even had to understand the rules for heaven and hell.

I still don't know everything about how this magic works. I need to look up some of the stuff I figured out for the previous book, but took out of the pages. I can't find it in notes or deleted materials--I may not have typed it into the computer. In which case, I KNOW it's in the first draft tucked away in its 3-ring binder...somewhere. I don't think I've moved the binders yet. In which case, they'll get moved down here in the next couple of weeks, when we move all our furniture to the island. But it might be here...

Anyway, it's frustrating when I have to stop and work out stuff I really should have worked out earlier--but I sorta thought I already had. I mean, I wrote a whole book set in this universe. It just didn't occur to me that I'd be writing about a different kind of magic in more detail than I had in the previous book. And honestly, even if I had worked out stuff about conjury ahead of time, I would still be discovering things about it as I write. I never know all the secrets till I get there. Sometimes, I do make them up. But sometimes, they just sort of...come.

All kinds of things bubble up out of that swamp, and I never know what it will be next.

Manticores have made a recent appearance...

Oh! AND, I have ridden my new red Schwinn bicycle all the way to 39th Street today!! That is 53rd Street to 39th Street, plus the two blocks from the subdivision--and back again. Farther than I've been able to take myself before. My knees may whine for the next few days, but I got past 45th Street, which means I rode more than 2 miles.

Adventures in Parent-land

I'm still tired. Went to help unpack the parents. Totally forgot sticky notes, but the sister had them at her house, so my niece made them out for the cabinets.

We worked like mules trying to get boxes unpacked and things put away, at least in the kitchen, trying to get the living room usable and the beds put together so we'd have a place to sleep. The sister and I worked. Mama was having chest pains. (She does that when she gets overworked.) The sister-in-law came over and worked too. She was the driving force to get the living room organized.

The house will be good for them, but it needs more work than I realized. For instance, the master bath was demolished for remodeling, only the remodeling never got done. So the master bath has no walls, no shower stall to go with the shower head, no floor... You get the idea. The other bath works, but it's pretty worn. Then they had sewer trouble the day after I left to go home. And I'm worried about them being able to coordinate things and remembering to get it done. It really needs to be done as soon as possible.

My brother-in-law is disabled, so he's home most of the time, and if the pain's not too bad, he can make phone calls and help them out some. He was there organizing--we had to watch him like a hawk to make sure he didn't try to move anything, though.

Downsizing will be a struggle for them--and we'll be working on some downsizing too, I think, in the next few weeks.

Finished my character interviews this morning, so I'll probably get back into the writing (I hope) tomorrow. This is for Old Spirits. Got to get rolling on that.

Weather's kind of iffy to go out to the seawall today--lots of wind, clouds. Maybe even rain--can't tell through the windows at the newsroom. Maybe just fog or mist. We'll see how it is thirty minutes from now. I do think it's far enough into spring that it's safe to put all the houseplants outside if I put them under the covered porch where the wind can't get them. I just hope the salt fog can't get to them either. It gets to the cars every so often...

Oh! The house has azaleas outside the breakfast room window. I've always loved azaleas, but have never lived anywhere they would grow. I'm going to find my clippers and go out and cut some. Maybe a rose, too, if one of them looks good.

Thinking about titles

Comment from AG:

COLD IRON makes me think about faeries. cold iron is supposed to be one of the things that can really really hurt them, I guess kinda like vampires and garlic, only it hurts the good guys instead of keeping the bad guys away.

It's only really in that context that I've seen "cold iron" instead of just "iron."

Yeah. Which gives it a fantasy sound--and then you read it and there's a twist... Maybe.

The first book is blood magic, hence NEW BLOOD, because 1. there's a new sorceress, so she's "new blood" in the magicians council, and 2. blood magic has been essentially lost for 300 years, so it's new. I like that title. (Dunno if it will fly with editors.)

The second book, I want to call OLD SPIRITS, because the hero is a conjurer, so it looks at a different type of magic used in this universe (though in terms of how it mixes with blood magic). And the older a spirit the conjurer can conjure, the more powerful it is and the more magic can be worked. So I think OLD SPIRITS works for that one.

The third book, will have an alchemist, who works magic with physical elements and forces (water, metal, earth, electricity, etc.), and a wizard, who works herbal magic. I have NO clue what to call that one, which is why I thought COLD IRON might work, because there IS magic worked with iron. But there are no faeries.

Fantasy/paranormal books with "blood" in the title generally are assumed to be vampire books. This one isn't. Not a vampire in sight. So, in that way, the cold iron reference would be a similar twist. The titles I came up with that had something referring to the wizardry sounded squishy. Iron Flowers? Deep Earth? Rooted Deep? The adjective-noun pattern doesn't necessarily have to be followed, but it would be nice if I could...

Sometimes the titles just come (like SPIRITS--Floated up with the opening line and scene...). Sometimes I have to wrestle with them. A lot.

Mini beach report: The seagulls are growing in the black feathers on their heads. No more smudgy-white headed seagulls. They're going back to black. Mating season is at hand.

Settling In, Not Down

I don't think my life will EVER settle down. But I'm trying to settle in to things.

Our mattress is still on the floor, and probably will be for a week--unless the fella decides to put it on the box springs and frame on the one day he'll be at home this week. I opened 6 boxes this morning, hunting the dryer fabric softener sheets so I wouldn't have my underwear stuck to my socks. The cable guys came to put in my internet cable (YAY!) but basically re-wired the whole house, and they were here till about 12:50--and the new job starts at 1 p.m. I barely made it.

I typed in about 15 cutlines for "Look what I did" photos--they go in the Applause section, and mostly people mail them in. It was tough remembering all the little codes they want for the titles and this little thing and that, so I kept having to go back and put them in, but it worked. I got them all in. Hopefully, I'll get the hang of things and be able to catch up on stuff. Still don't really know how the phones work there, but I doubt I'll be using them much. And tomorrow, maybe I'll get to be myself. ;) I'm still the girl I'm taking over for, because the computer guy has a new grandbaby. I'll forgive him today, because I know those grandbabies are IMPORTANT!

So. I guess I'd better go finish my judging for this contest. I'm Late! I hate being late. I even worked on these while I was at Mom's. I got them really late, because somehow, my new addy didn't get in the system, and the entries went all the way to West Texas, then all the way back to the coast. LOoooooong Way.

Oh yeah. This was the last weekend of Mardi Gras. The island celebrates--and has for at least 80 years--though since it's a smaller place than New Orleans, it doesn't get quite as wild. But, after we made the son come down from college to help us move (he brought his girlfriend, too, who was great help!), we took them downtown to watch the big evening parade and have dinner. The place we went to eat wasn't crowded, (probably because we got tired of waiting for the parade to show up and went on to eat, and everybody else was out in the street begging for beads from the balconies and getting drunk) and was very good. And we caught a good bit of the parade. And beads. I caught a few strands, anyway. This was the Knights of Momus Krewe parade, and we were standing under the Knights of Momus party balcony, so the people on the floats were all focused on throwing beads to their friends on the balcony above us. But I had some very cool dolphin beads, and caught some other neat strands. I had a hurricane. I ate fish. It was a good day all round.

Keep your fingers crossed. There is interest in New Blood. And maybe Old Spirits too. And...whatever the third book in the story might be called... Deep Earth? The third book will be about alchemy and wizardry--non-living magic (water, rock, electricity, etc.), and living, non-human magic (plants & animals). It will have two magics in it. Flowering Earth? Suggestions are welcomed. :)

Slogging On

Some people march on, but I happen to be slogging. It's a slogging kind of month. Or something. Lots of people are participating in National Novel Writing Month this month, or NaNo. I've sort of attempted this in the past.

Problem is, I do my first-draft writing in longhand, so if I wanted to do an "official" NaNo, and get my words logged on the Official Website, I would have to first write, then type, then do the upload/count-y thing, essentially doing twice the work of anybody else. And I'm too dang lazy for all that work.

My other problem is that I'm a slogger, not a sprinter. I do best at a "slow and steady" sort of pace. Six to eight pages a day, every week day. EVERY weekday. Sometimes, like when I haven't been writing for a while, I don't make it to six pages, but if I really work at it, I can do it. That gives me the 50,000 words NaNo wants in about 6 weeks.

Which brings us to my other other problem. I write long. At least when I'm writing fantasy, I do. Each one of the Rose books came in at just under 150,000 words. (Okay, Eternal Rose came in a fair bit over, but I got it cut!) So did New Blood for that matter. That's THREE books' worth of writing, if you count 50,000 words as a book (and that's how long my Desires were, when I was writing them).

Anyway, I'm still slogging. This week, I finished the synopsis for White Elk, Red Sword.* I also finished the world-building and character development for the science fiction/gene-splicing story, which I am tentatively calling Catching Time. Of course, the world-building will continue to develop as I get into the story and figure out other things I need, but it feels good enough I can work with it. I need to type in the world-building stuff, so I have multiple back-ups. Pen and ink can also be lost/destroyed.

Then I can go back and type in the synopsis, and edit it as I do. Type-in is my 1st edit, giving me a second draft on the computer. Then--maybe this weekend, maybe starting Monday, I can rewrite the opening of Chapter 3 for WERS, putting all of it (at least so far) in the hero's point of view, and it just might be ready to ship out to the agent.

I want to pull together a partial of Catching Time after that, and after that--we may be into the new year, when I think I need to go back and work on Devil in a Red Dress. I also need to write another 25 pages or so on Thunder. I might actually get them done before this month ends. We're not going anywhere for Thanksgiving. It will be a small gathering here on the island, but the weather promises to be gorgeous. It is right now, anyway.

Beach report: I've only gone down to walk on the beach once this week. It was quite warm, and I wish I'd gone in my flipflops so I could have walked in the water. But I didn't, so... Lots of little rocks and broken shells along the high-tide mark. Lots of sea gulls.

I did pick up my Bird Book when we went back to Clarendon. I now know that the larger of the sandpiper-like birds are willets, and the little flocking ones are sanderlings. I'm looking forward to seeing them in their summer plumage.

I walked in my neighborhood one day--the day the cold front came through. I thought about walking the other way, around by the bayou (which is actually more like a big opening to the bay than it is like a bayou, but that's what they call it so...), but the wind was really whipping, and it was cold, and coming off the bayou it would have been even colder, so I stayed on the residential streets.

Today, I walked a little bit over in the historical district--or one of them. This town has a bunch of historical districts. Anyway, I'd gone over there to see someone about getting my fancy black dress altered, and there were some neat looking houses with For Sale signs in front of them, so after I was through trying on the dress for her and had it all pinned up, and went back out to my car, I decided to walk around a little and see what there was to see. Some of the big ol' houses had been divided up into apartments. Some had been restored and some hadn't. But it was fun to walk around and look at them. There was even a brand new house that fit exactly into the neighborhood. The inside layout wouldn't work for us, but it was a neat house. Until we find a place to buy (and hopefully sell the old house), I think my hobby's going to be driving/walking around looking at houses. Maybe afterward. I like looking...

Okay, I've driveled on long enough. Time to stop this and go do something useful. Or play Mah-Jongg... Whatever.

*Title subject to change, if it ever sells/finds a publisher.

Cool Beans

Got some totally cool news today. The Eternal Rose has gone to a second printing.

This is a big deal for Juno. And it is a big deal for me. So, to all you folks who've read The Eternal Rose and told your friends about it--THANK YOU!!! And keep telling all your other friends. :)

Okay, so we drove, like, a bazillion miles this past weekend. When I say--well, actually, it was probably only 1400 miles--you will understand that the distance between 1400 and a bazillion actually isn't that great, especially from the pov of the person actually experiencing driving all that distance in one weekend.

It's not actually that far to drive to Clarendon and back--about 1200 miles. The extra 200 come from discovering that the Broncos were playing Quanah for the district championship for the first time since we moved to town, only they were playing IN Quanah, which is 90 miles away. So--despite the fact that we had already driven through Quanah once that day--we hopped back in the vehicle and drove Back to Quanah to watch a 1A high school football game. I also got to visit with a bunch of friends while we were there, who we wouldn't have been able to see without going to the game. And then the Broncos lost.

Because the new town is so much larger, it's not de rigeur to go to the Friday night football games here--but it still feels weird not going. We spent a LOT of years going to the game every Friday night, because we either had a kid in the band or playing football or both. It was pretty cold. We didn't take our seats, and the metal bleachers were definitely cold. Daytime temps are pretty much the same on the coast or in the Panhandle, but the temp drops a whole lot more at night up north. No moderating influence of the water.

I'm trying to figure out plots now, and I think I want to rewrite Chapters 2 and 3 of White Elk from the opposite point of view. I'm also having to think about bad guys--what they want, what they're doing that the good guys can stop them from doing, and it's tough. I think I'm going to have to do that "think up 20 things to happen here" exercise, because there are just too many possibilities. I have to pick some things--that will need reasons for them to happen--and then the next events will lead from that. I'd rather be writing, but if I don't know what's going to happen, I'll be writing in circles, and I don't fly well into the mist. I need my roadmap, and I'm having trouble deciding where it needs to go.

The bad guys are in New Mexico. This limits some of the things they can do. They have evil witch powers of several varieties and are of several ethnic backgrounds. This expands some of the things they can do. They want power, because they want to do what they want to do without anybody stopping them or crossing them, and they want money because money provides power. Power feels good because it means they can do anything they want to anybody--they're the boss dog. Taking stuff from other people proves their power, and taking a life is the ultimate power trip. So. This is where my bad guys are coming from--and now I have to figure out what steps they're taking to acquire more power. What EXACTLY are they doing? How are they going about acquiring this power? Ugh. What do you think they ought to be doing?

Wild Weekend

The harbor cruise was fun. We took the motor-powered cruise. Big ol' boat that A&M uses for marine research of various kinds. Just six of us on the boat with "Captain Jim. " Basically, we went down the harbor to the ship channel and back, didn't go out in the bay at all. Lots of interesting stuff to look at. (This is the "other" boat, very much like the one we're on. Took the picture while we were pulling out.)

We saw lots of cool stuff. The local cruise ship, getting loaded up for another Caribbean cruise... We saw the "tall ship Elissa," from the water. Elissa is a museum herself, and also a working sailing merchant ship. Locals volunteer to sail her and keep her ship-shape.





There were also cargo ships unloading tractors and shipyards that didn't look like they had any ships to work on. I think one of the shipyard things was still under construction. Besides all the big ships (including Coast Guard cutters and ferries and barges), there were people out fishing. Apparently it's about time for the flounder run to begin and folks were everywhere, on the bank and in boats, catching fish while all these huge ships were pulled up to dock right across the water from them.

But the absolute coolest thing we saw while we were out cruising down the harbor was the bottle-nosed dolphins. A whole pod surfaced right in front of the boat--six or seven of them. I couldn't get but three in the same picture--they were pretty far ahead when the big bunch surfaced, and not all of them came back up close enough for me to take their picture. But they were right there in the harbor along with everything else, swimming around like there were no ships or fishermen. Cool, huh?

And then we went to see Elizabeth: The Golden Age, because I'd been wanting to see it, and it was totally worth going to see. Loved the clothes...

Sunday, we got tickets to the Grand Opera House to a concert, and decided to go to that, since Moody Gardens--which was having "Free Day for locals" will be there next year (or whenever) and the pianist won't be. The music was great, but Sunday afternoon is not a good concert time for this girl. Sunday afternoon is Nap Time, and I kept falling asleep in that dark theater, at least through the Brahms. I did stay awake for the Mussorgsky Pictures in an Exhibition--just because I like that music a lot.

There were a whole bunch of other things going on over the weekend...a bicycle "ride around the bay" benefit thing, I think a breast cancer walk, an art festival, I think there was also a jazz festival...and we just couldn't get to all of it. (A couple of the cyclists got hit crossing the causeway, even though they had two lanes blocked off just for the bicyclists...)

So now, it's Monday. Worked on White Elk this a.m., got the latest version of chapter 1 in the computer and sent off for critiquing. Hopefully I've added in enough emotion that it will work. Hopefully.

Beach Report: Went back out to walk this morning. They've been predicting a cold front for today since last week, but you couldn't tell it by my walk. It was 81F (27C) when I got to the seawall at 8:30 a.m. And there wasn't a lick of breeze anywhere. I have NEVER been on the beach when the air was so absolutely still. It was hot, walking this a.m.

Because it was Monday, and the beaches got groomed for the weekend, most of the seaweed was gone, unless it got washed up right next to the seawall. I saw a couple of chunks of floaty, crinkly kind. (Guess I ought to take a picture of that, too.) A few shells, more rocks, and a whole lot of rocks right next to the fishing pier.

But I saw something I'd never seen before, completely new for me, and totally cool. I guess it washed ashore because it had broken off something else. It was a chunk of hard, clear plastic pipe about 2 inches in diameter, with a metal plug on one end that had been completely covered three-quarters of the way around, and over the end with some kind of little mussels or clams. Each shell was about thumbnail sized, and attached to the pipe by some kind of...neck, or stem. Kind of an icky, fleshy, ribbed, dark brown stem. The shells looked thin, and they were triangular shaped, with rounded points, white with dark orange edges. Looked sorta like mouths with lipstick on, because the shells were all open, some with little critters sticking out.

I thought about bringing it home to take a picture of here, but the critters were still alive, and when they died, they would sure stink. So I tossed them back into the water (they washed back out again) for the seagulls to eat, if they ever figured out they were edible. (Maybe they aren't. I don't know.) The seagulls weren't messing with them when I first saw it. It looked sort of like a rhythm-band instrument--a stick with little castanets stuck all over the outside to rattle together. It did rattle when I picked it up, as the shells clacked into each other...

So, anyway, that was the cool stuff I saw this morning.

Then, sometime later this morning, the wind swooped in out of the north, blew over the rubber tree and the purple ginger (I did pick them back up), and brought in the cold weather. By 2:30 p.m., it was 63F (17C), and blowing like crazy.

I may have to go out and check the beach at low tide tomorrow, see if anything cool can be found. We are told that this is the time to go beach-combing, because the wind pushes the water way out, and all sorts of things turn up on the sand...

Fancy Dress Party

So we went to the party. This is me in one of my new fancy dresses. I like sparklies, and there are sparklies all the way down the front of this dress.

The invitation wasn't real specific about where the party was--the hotel and convention center is a pretty big place, and we had to hike through the hotel till we found the right ballroom. I actually remembered a few names of people I'd met before, and even recognized who went with who even when they weren't next to each other. I've met a dozen or more women named either Carol, Carolyn, Caroline or Karen... at least it seems that way. Makes it easier to remember names. I can just come out with a Kar--and mumble an ending, and they'll think I remember. I'm so bad at names, I don't mind at all being introduced as Grace.

Grace was actually my nickname in college, because I was so good at tripping over cracks in the sidewalk and getting run over by rampaging Weimeraners and losing my balance and falling into people and stuff. If somebody was going to mix my name up, that was probably a pretty good one to stick on me.

So, here's the fella in his brand new tux. Someone told us at the party that the island is actually a two-tux town. I suspect we're not rich enough for the two-tux level, but his position is a pretty political one, so we may get that many fancy-dress invitations. We'll just have to wait and see. The guys were mostly in tuxes, but the ladies were all over the board--some in cocktail dresses, some in fancy dress pants, some in long dresses. I'm just grateful I didn't drape my sleeves in the food...

And yes, I have to show y'all my shoes. I got really excited about finding a pair of shoes that would actually go onto my feet--and I found them at a Department Store! Usually, department stores don't carry anything that will fit me, (wide feet, high arches) but I could get my feet into these, they didn't hurt any more than any other shoe, and they didn't cost a bazillion bucks. They have sparklies on them too, but the sparkle doesn't seem to show up in the picture.

While we were at the fancy party, before dinner started (beef wellington and a really great red and yellow tomato salad), we got invited to go on a boat excursion this afternoon, and since we had no other commitments, and we like boats, we jumped on the invite. I'll try and get back to let y'all know how it went--and I will take the camera for more pictures. I really need to get back to my painting... (Pictures=stuff to paint, so when I think about pictures, I think about painting.)

It sounds like all I'm doing is running around and going to parties--and I'm doing a lot more of that, for sure. There's lots of stuff to do here. But I am still working on stories and writing. I got quite a bit done yesterday--finished character interviews and re-wrote the opening. Now I need to get it typed in and merged with the rest of chapter one, and ship it off for critique at next weekend's writers' retreat. Except I have to go on this boat ride. And tomorrow afternoon, we have tickets to a concert downtown at the Grand Opera House. (Need to try to take a picture of the inside there...) Anyway, this one is a contemporary urban fantasy romance with the various cultural mythologies merged and mixed together. Tentatively titled White Elk Red Sword, but I'm also considering something like The Shaman and the Warrior Princess... anyway.

Beach report: Went walking with the fella this a.m., and since he has no flip-flops and I like to walk IN the water, we drove down to see if Academy was open (wasn't), and walked from 45th street to about 27th and back, instead of from 61st to 53rd, like I usually do.

Gorgeous weather--not a cloud in the sky, nice breeze, water pretty cool. More shells than rocks on the beach, but not many of either. After we crossed the 3rd jetty, there was a whole lot of seaweed of both kinds (crinkly-leaved floater and big-stemmed with roots). We're waiting for the first big norther to blow in and push all the water way out so we can really go shell-hunting. Seagulls, pigeons, little bitty sandpiper/pipits. Saw a big sandpiper/stilt (I have Really got to go get my bird book.) with only one leg hopping away from us. And just as we were about the climb the stairs back to the car, we saw an egret fishing. Going to have to break out the long-sleeved shirt and hat and sunscreen for the harbor tour this afternoon...

I really am appreciating all the "Book sighting" reports. I had a sighting! I went across the causeway into town for the RWA meeting last Tuesday (listened to Sharon Mignery do a great workshop on Conflict), and stopped off at the Barnes & Noble, and there they were! THREE copies of The Eternal Rose and one of The Barbed Rose. So I signed them. Didn't have any stickers...I'll take some next time I head into town--which might not be until the next meeting, but that's just the way it is. So. Thanks, y'all. :)

Insecurity Strikes

Thought I'd open with a view of "the seawall as it was"--how I remember it from when I was little, all rocks and no beach (the bit in the foreground's been brought in). This is to the west from where I usually go down to walk. I walk to the east, cause there's no beach this way...

So anyway, I pulled out this old story I'm wanting to re-write, and revised the opening pages, and I'm still not sure they flow. Or rather, I feel like they open too slowly. I do want to open with this particular scene, but it's a slow scene, a slow build, and I'm struck with insecurity that I'm doing it right, or that it's a story worth telling, or... anyway.

I stopped and have been doing characterizaton work. Because my heroine is a completely different person (except for her name, appearance and backstory), with a new personality, and I had to stop and think about a few things about her. What her personality is. Whether she likes change or hates it. Is she adventurous? (She is.) So I did a lot of that today and yesterday. And now I'm working on the hero's character stuff. I know him a lot better than I do her. And I'm still not sure that the opening works. I hope it does, but... Maybe I will e-mail my pages in for the Chocolate critiques my new RWA chapter is doing next month. And my pages for the critiques at the retreat I'm going to next weekend...

Tonight is the first Big Fancy Shindig in our new town. Because of the fella's job heading up the local junior college, we get invited to all sorts of dinners, fundraisers and other community stuff. But I have to tell you that the events here are of a whole other magnitude than where we moved from. You do not need a tux to go to the Saint's Roost Chuckwagon Cook-Off or the cancer society barbecue out at the Bar H. The Prevent Blindness Gala in our new town does. There are lots of people with lots of money on the island, plus the population--the Panhandle town had right at 2000 people. The island town has 60,000. What is that, you math people? a 300% increase? More, probably, right? Anyway, this calls for some serious primping.

The fella went out and bought a tux. He decided the beaded stuff I already had wasn't fancy enough, so we went out and bought me 4 more dresses. (Two are formals, two are cocktail length.) Plus shoes and underwear (yeah, the dresses need special underwear) (which cost more than the shoes, which totally freaked the fella out, because underwear aren't supposed to cost more than shoes)--and I still didn't spend as much as he did for the tuxedo. So I get to buy another dress later. :D I'll try to remember to make him take a picture tonight so I can share. It is a gorgeous dress, and fancy shoes, and all. We'll be classy. I want a nap, but if I go lie down, I'll mess up my hair, so I'm posting my blog instead.

Beach report: Mostly swept clean, but still lots of big rocks near the fishing pier. Not big as in boulders--those are always there, but big as in lots bigger than the shell scruff that was there last week. Saw a little bit of the sargasso-type stuff, but mostly the big seaweed. Some of the big stuff was new--still green. Just seagulls, except for one little pipit (or whatever the little bitty sandpiper-like birds are--I really need to get my bird book moved down here). No cormorants or egrets.

See those pink shells? That's what I picked up off the beach after Humberto. Cool, huh? Pink! I think they're some kind of barnacle... (There are two of them--the two in the back left? Those are separate from the big chunk. I put them in the back to sorta prop the other ones up...)

The tide was really high when I got out there today, though it was on its way out. It had been higher, almost all the way up to the seawall, undercutting some of the dunes. Haven't downloaded that picture yet.

The Books Are Arriving

Commenters have commented here that they have received their books. (Thank you very much. It was good to know folks are getting them.)

I have now received my copies. Yes, they are beautiful. I might even read it. I read my very first two books when I got them. (They were short.) I read Compass Rose. I only got about halfway through Barbed Rose. So--given how many times I read Eternal Rose through the revision and re-revision and paring-down-to-size process, I'm not sure I'll be able to get all the way through it. I might go back and re-read Barbed Rose again.

I have found that when I create characters and a story that I like, I still like them when I go back and look at them again, even if it's just a fragment I came up with ages ago that has no business even thinking about publication. I usually pick apart the prose when I read back over the story, but I still like the characters and the story. Or at least the intent of the story. What I wanted the story to be...I might realize how the story ought to be better told.

This is kind of what I'm doing now with Thunder. I came up with the idea so, so long ago--but I still like the idea and the characters and the story. I just know more about story-telling now, so maybe I can do them all justice. I hope. I've done more research, and I'm having a little trouble reconciling the emotional numbing symptoms of a PTSD sufferer with my character's need to locate her family...but an overprotectiveness of loved ones is also a symptom, so maybe I can balance it that way. There's apparently a wide variation in behavior--and given that my character is not so very "post," I think I can make it work. It's some of the hardest writing I've ever done, though.

Oh, there's a nice review of The Eternal Rose if you're interested, and in response to the comment about the bit that left the reviewer scratching her head, let me just say: It's a fantasy. And leave it at that. :)

Nice slow week this week. Not much experimenting in the kitchen (I made Mediterranean Salmon with white beans last week...pretty good, even if salmon isn't a Mediterranean fish--is it?). The steaks were awesome though, and we had leftovers. Then I found some sweet corn in the fridge to have with the leftovers, so they were awesome twice.

No beach visits so far this week--my walks have been around the neighborhood--and I'm going to have to get up earlier and get out the door earlier to beat the heat. But if nothing else gets planned--and if it doesn't rain--I think I want to at least go to the beach to swim for my birthday Saturday. (Dang, but I'm getting old.)

They did call me to interview for the part-time job I applied for, but that's two weeks away. I think it will be an interesting job, and still leave me time to write. Which I need to get busy and do. I need to earn my charm for September. August turned out to be just impossible. I'm probably 6 pages up right now, but that leaves me with 18 to go. I'm having to do as much thinking and researching as writing though... Have a research book I need to go buy.
Better run...

Writing about Sex

I have a list of things I want to blog about someday. I write them down--the ones I can remember long enough to write down--so I don't forget them. For instance, I do want to write about the TIME Magazine article "Who killed the love story?" But not today.

And the son, who is home from university this week, found my list and wrote on it: Monkeys in Outer Space bent on destroying zuwieroiyushamnn At least that's what I think he wrote on it. And I may write a blog about monkeys in outer space bent on destroying...whatever... But not today.

Today, I'm going to blog about sex. Specifically, about writing about sex in novels. See, I got a note on my Shelfari Shelf from a friend who said that she was "unimpressed" by the One Rose books because she didn't like books that "focus so completely around sex."

Which took me totally aback, because I certainly didn't think the books at all focused so completely around sex. I've read books that focus completely around sex, and believe me, they have a LOT more sex than the Rose books do.

The Compass Rose has only three fully consummated love scenes in it. It has a few more "sex by magic" (sorta like phone sex, only without the phone) scenes, and the characters talk about sex a lot. Because the books are about men and women who care about each other, who have a relationship--who are married to each other, to be more exact--and who have different understandings from each other about relationships and about sex and how the world works. And I firmly believe that to put people in that kind of situation and NOT address the sex issue would have been nothing less than a flat out lie.

(The Barbed Rose has more sex, as does The Eternal Rose, because in those books, the relationships are on-going and more fully developed. By the time The Eternal Rose begins, seven years have passed since the beginning of The Compass Rose. The characters have been married for that long. Sex is going to be a part of those relationships.)

All those books that have men and women traveling together on a quest for months to retrieve the Magic Hoohah and save the world--and the characters Never Even Think About Sex--are just plain lying, IMO.

People think about sex. They have sex. They screw up their lives because they try to ignore sex and they can't. Or they screw up their lives because they have sex with anything that moves and never figure out why they're lonely. Sex is a part of life. It's a huge part of life, and I think that novelists--in whatever genre they write--should address it, if they're comfortable with it.

In speculative fiction, like fantasy and science fiction, it's possible to explore a greater range of "what ifs" than in novels set in contemporary or historical times, and exploration is a good thing, I think. If I'm ever able to write more books set in the One Rose universe, I can see Kallista's children complaining that it's hard enough to find one person willing to put up with your faults--

I do understand that sex is a private part of life and that some people are uncomfortable with a discussion, or even a portrayal of something so intensely private and intimate. I understand that some people have moral issues with reading about sex. Personal opinions are just that. Personal opinions. And everyone's entitled to have them. Which is why I left the note up on my Shelfari page and didn't delete it. Tanis has every right to not like books with much sex in them, and every right to express her opinion.

But I did want to explain why I wrote the books the way I did, and why I write about sex, and there's not a way to respond to a note on one's own page, and I didn't want to stick a note on her page without any context, so I came here to share my philosophy of writing about sex with the world--or at least as much of the world as comes by to read my blog.

I'm still waiting for my copies of The Eternal Rose... Sigh.

Beyond Tired

Although I probably shouldn't be by now. It's Wednesday. I've been home (again) since Sunday evening. But I still feel like I've been dragged backwards through the bushes. And then maybe beat with a stick some.

I went to ArmadilloCon in Austin last weekend. It's a science fiction/fantasy conference, was lots of fun, but dang, I'm really tired now. And it was hard attending when I hadn't even been in the new house for a week. Still, I bet I'm the only one in a while who's been put on both the sex- AND the religion-in-fantasy panels. We had a lot of fun doing the panels--laughed a Whole lot during the sex-in-fantasy panel--and I scored a necklace-and-earring set and a dragon print at the art auction. Both very cool and very lovely. (The jewelry is purple rock--and no, I don't remember what kind it's supposed to be--that will go very well with the purple rock earrings I already have.)

So, now the boy is down from college for the week. I need to go drag him out of bed so we can go to the washateria (all the laundromats around here seem to have that title) since we haven't rented laundry equipment yet--and doing laundry in the garage is REALLY going to be not fun around here... The heat index has been in the 110s (43 C) the past few days--worse than in Houston because of the killer humidity.

We have had fresh boiled shrimp this week--bought at the grocery store, not a fish market, but still the freshest stuff I've had in a long time. Wonderful. My next goal for the week is to get out to the beach and get IN the water, sometime before the boy heads back to school. The grandboys are coming to visit next week (so the posts here will be sparse, I'm sure) and I plan to take them to the water several times, but their WunkaBob won't be here then...

Cross your fingers that the books (The Eternal Rose) come in next week. The printer has promised them by then, but...

I'm trying to write, but not very hard. I got 4-1/2 pages done Monday, but there's just too much to do. Went to Ikea to buy tables to set up for computer desks--and forgot to buy the second table. Sometime, when I'm back that way, I'll have to get the second table. (sigh) That's my project for today, though. To put the table on its legs. It's bound to work better than the card table I'm using right now...

Printing

At this very moment, I am printing out the complete (and still pretty long) manuscript to New Blood to mail to the agent tomorrow. I like it, I like how it's turned out--there are still things that could probably be cut, but it works for me, so...

This means that I mail it, and then I have to start doing not-fun stuff like packing boxes. I'm not going to take any books but the research books I'm using for Thunder, and a few of the TBRs--because if I don't have books to read, I will buy books to read. I will probably buy books to read anyway, but...

Oh, and we may have someone to buy our house after all. Cross your fingers that everything works out. We're still moving into the house with the big deck first weekend in August, but it's exciting news. I don't want to have this dragging on. I'm hoping I'll be able to move ALL my books into the house, but...

Eww. Just occurred to me--it's REALLY humid on the coast, which is not good for books. I'll have to find a place for my comics in the house--or sell them all on e-Bay. I miss them, but don't have time for them any more. Especially won't if I have to get a dayjob, which is a possibility.

Next writing project, to be started in the new house/town--I'm going to revise the demon hunter book and see if I can get over the first barrier. Then I'm going to start the re-write on the urban fantasy Irish shaman/Navajo warrior princess story. Oh, and I'm still writing 25 pages a month on the WWII story, Thunder.

Um--I've finished the new Harry Potter book. I was out of town when the mail order package came in, but I read it. It was a satisfying ending to the story, I thought. I've also read an old Barbara Delinsky, Looking for Peyton Place, which I liked, and Liz Maverick's launch of the Shomi line, Wired, which I think I liked, but it confused me a lot, so I'm not really sure. On the airplane coming back, I read Karma Girl by Jennifer Estep (liked it) and Soul Song by Marjorie M. Liu (liked it too). Need to sort my ABRs (already been read) into keepers, library donations and trade-ins. I haven't lived near Waco in 8 years, but I'm still carting my trade-ins to Golden's Books on Franklin street there--best used book store I've found so far. Maybe I'll find a new one in the new place, but will wait and see.

Oh! I did get my domain up and running again. (It helps when you pay your bills on time. ) Now to update it. And then, to shift my plan. I have it on one that isn't particularly idiot-friendly. I need something for the computerly ignorant.

And Summer Goes Slipping By...

I have been scolded for not getting a post up. It's not my fault--or not so much. I've been away. And I'm about to go away again. But I'm here now and so I shall attempt to get up a quick post.

You may recall from earlier posts (like the one just previous) that I had the grandboys for a week plus. We had lots of fun, going to summer reading at the library and such. Spent more time that I liked hunting for a) video tapes borrowed from the library and/or b) the boxes said videos came in. I had to get out a left-behind golf club and fish one of the boxes out from under the TV stand. One of the boxes I still can't find--but the nice ladies at the library said to bring it on back anyway. (the video, not the box, since I don't know where the box is, so I can't bring it back. But the orange video is sitting on the end table in the den.)

Then their granddaddy left town to go start his new job. (For some reason he thought that was important.) That wasn't so bad, but then the son--the little boys' daddy--didn't make it to town till about a day later than we'd hoped. (Me and the little guys.) We did fine, but we sure were glad to see their daddy.

Then I took them all home, and drove down to Austin to see the parents and the sister & B-i-L who were down from the far northland to see my niece graduate from Air Force bootcamp. That was an adventure and a half, but we don't want to make this blogpost too long. The picture here is of the niece getting her Coin the day before the official graduation. She was an honor grad, but I blurred most of those pictures. (sigh) Anyway, it was a lot of fun to get to go and see all the ceremony, where she lived, all that stuff, and to visit with the family.

I took Mama & Daddy home before the rest of them came back up, because they couldn't keep up too well with all the "young folks." We had a nice time shopping and "resting up." Then it was time to go to Dallas for RWA.

That was an experience and a half. And I took Absolutely NO pictures while I was at conference. I don't know why, except that I just didn't feel like dragging the camera around. So I didn't. I didn't even get a picture of me with my Prism award.

Yeah, I won the Prism Award in the fantasy category, which is a pretty nifty and well-respected award for fantasy and paranormal (like vampires and stuff) romance, presented by the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal chapter of RWA, for The Barbed Rose.

The Prism is given each year for the best published novel in several fantasy/SF/etc. categories (of the books that are entered, anyway). The other two finalists in the fantasy category were also LUNA authors, and I honestly never expected to win, which meant that when I did, and they asked me to say a few words, I had to fumble to come up with something. I sincerely hope I didn't make an idiot of myself. I was absolutely thrilled--I've wanted one of these babies since I got to rub the one Robin Owens won...in Reno, I think it was. The award is a beautiful crystal...prism. It's a pyramid engraved with the award name, the category, and the book title and author (me!), and it turns all sorts of lovely glowy colors depending on what angle you look at it. It's sitting right on top of my desk (in one of the cleared off spots.)

I'll write more about conference when I recover a little more. I danced a lot at the Harlequin party, and I'm still sore from that. A few of us tried to teach all the Yankees about the Cotton-eyed Joe, but I'm not sure how well it worked. Oh well. And then there was all the REST of the dancing.

I intend to post at least one more blog before I head down to the island for the weekend to look at houses. We shall see if I make it. I'm trying to write 25 pages on the World War II novel (working title: Thunder in a Cloudless Sky--because that's what artillery firing sounds like...) by Saturday this week, so I can earn this month's charm. It's 25 pages for the month, and I haven't written anything at all so far this month. (First boys, then out of town.) It's looking pretty good. I'm up to 16.5 so far. Of course, I haven't done a THING toward moving... except unpack the suitcases and divvy up the give-away books from conference.

Okay, done. I'm ending this too-long blog. Really. Now. I'm quitting.

Shaking head sadly

So tonight I got a phone call from the boy. The one in college (who still doesn't have a summer job--GRRRR). And he wants to know about insurance on his vehicle. With one of those queasy feelings growing in my gut, I ask--not-so-nonchalantly--Why do you want to know???

Seems a tree fell on his car. A whole freakin' tree.

Well, actually, it was more like half a tree. The tree broke in half and fell on his car. And the car of one of his roommates. But mostly on his car.

He said the damage was mostly paint, and dents--it didn't break any windows...yet. So I told him to take pictures, and then get the freakin' tree off the freakin' car. Actually, I didn't say freakin'. I didn't use any other bad words either. I was a good mom and didn't shock the boy. What is the deal with trees in Waco? Not that many years ago, a tree at Cameron Park dropped a giant branch on a little girl and killed her. And the wind wasn't even blowing, either time. You expect trees to break in high wind. And Waco gets a lot of high winds. I guess it weakened the trees, and then when you're not looking...wham!

Anyway. Tree. Car. Smush.

Oh, The Eternal Rose got a nice mention at this website. Thanks, krisstarr! I do appreciate it.

I will be posting the first chapter of the book very soon. Like, as soon as I can manage to get the website altered and get the excerpt on the site and make links to attach it to everything. Of course, people who subscribe to my newsletter get a special "newsletter only" excerpt too. :)

But first I need to write 10.5 more pages of the WWII book so I can earn my charm for this month. North Texas RWA chapter is having a "Book In A Year" challenge for its members--of whom I am one (see, I can do grammar). If we write 25 pages a month, we get a charm bracelet over the space of a year. I've done 2 months. But I need my 10.5 more pages to get this month's bracelet. And it's a good break to let New Blood ferment before I plunge into revisions.

Second Draft - Complete!

I'm trying to make a list of things I'd like to blog about sometime, so that when I think of something that would make a good blog, I won't forget what they are before I get round to blogging them. Mostly I just wait and see what I can come up with on the spur of the very last moment possible. Which is what you're getting today.

I finished typing New Blood into the computer today. (Yayyyyyyyy!!!!!!! - again, picture Kermit the Frog running around in circles, waving his little spindly arms in the air, going Yayyy) As a second draft, it's pretty minor. I don't make a whole lot of changes during the typing of the manuscript. But I do make some, and once it's all in the computer, I can print it out, and go at it with the weedwacker. And it's IN THERE!!

It does need a weedwacker. And some makeup and disguises. Maybe some wholesale demo and rebuilding. I have made notes--mostly mental, but today I did write some stuff down on the back of an earlier revision paragraph page. And it's mostly, sorta readable. And I need to do the vast majority of this fixing next week.

Because the Dallas grandboys are coming to visit (I hope) the week after that. And half-a-week after that, I'm heading off to the parents to visit the sister and b-i-l coming to visit from the mountains, and after a week at the parents, I'll head up to Dallas for RWA--and then...well, it's going to be time to go home and clean up my office to sell the Panhandle house, so we can see about getting our Beach house. I might have about a week for that. Maybe two. Yeah. It's getting busy.

But the book is in the computer.

Talking about Show and Tell

Laura Shin said this on The Pink Ladies Blog: "Take “show and tell.” Some writers avoid narrative introspection because they’ve been told that’s telling. Yet, I would in most cases rather know what a character is thinking—her reaction—and not read generic physical actions that are supposed to show me how she’s affected."

Sometimes I think this avoidance-of-narrative-introspection is a "guy writer" thing. Something that E. Hemingway started--and I blame him for a lot of stuff. For the stripped-down writing style that has been so popular, for one thing. And for the "girl-cooties" school of thought about "litrachure." It's not that I am fond of purple prose, but it does sometimes seem that all metaphors and adjectives are now considered suspect in certain circles. Ah well.

I tend to blame television and movies for the lack of internal reaction in novels today, not the "show vs. tell" issue. If we're in deep POV, the thoughts and emotions are showing, though they can seem like telling, I suppose. These days, a lot of newbie authors, the ones I judge in contests, tend not to go on and on with backstory and what the characters are thinking-- they've been trained out of that, I suppose. Lately, I've seen the pendulum swing too far the other way. They write prose that reads a lot like a screenplay, with dialog, action, and nothing else. Which means a lot of the characters' motivations for their actions are completely missing.

If we don't get what the character thinks about something, or how they feel about something-- about who a person is, or what that person does, or about what they themselves do--then we don't get to know who this character is, and we don't know why they do what they do, and without knowing the character and understanding them, we don't care what happens to them. We have to explain what's going on inside a character's head. It doesn't take a whole lot. Just...enough.

Here's an excerpt from the first of my Rose books, The Compass Rose, to demonstrate what I mean. (I'll put the internal reaction in another color to make it easier to spot):

Torchay had changed out of his finery into old trousers, his tunic off against the heat as he worked through his bodyguard exercises.

“Don’t you usually do that earlier in the day?” Kallista tossed her pendant on the table beside the big bed and kicked off her shoes.

“I did.” He finished the flowing form he was doing and stopped. The faint sheen of sweat over his lean musculature tempted her eyes to look, to drink their fill. “I felt like doing it again. I didn’t expect to see you before dawn.”

“Yes, well...” She tugged her fingers free of the thin snug leather and pulled her gloves off, flexing her sweaty hands in the slightly cooler air. “Didn’t work out.”

Torchay walked toward the table. Kallista backed off. She couldn’t bear being so close to him. Not now. He poured water from the pitcher into a cup and drank it, then poured the rest into the basin and splashed it on his face. Kallista watched his every move.

When he had dried his face with the flimsy towel, he turned and saw Kallista watching. “Can I ask you somethi—? No.” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He hung the towel up and reached for his hair to release his queue.

“What?” Kallista loosened the laces of her dress tunic. “If you have a question, ask it. You know you can ask me anything.”

“Can I?”

She looked up and saw his gaze focused on her. The candlelight reflecting from his eyes made them glow with blue flame. She lost herself in them for a moment before she recalled he’d asked her a question. “Yes, of course. Anything.”

Once more he hesitated, seeming to look for something as he gazed at her, but what, Kallista didn’t know. [I put all this in a different color, because part of it is what K. thinks he's doing.]

“All right,” he said finally. “I will.” He ran his fingers through his unbound hair and it fell in waves around his face, crimson in the candlelight. “When you have gone out hunting all these years—“ He paused for a deep breath, looking away only an instant. “When you have hunted a man, why did you never choose me?”

Kallista swayed, Torchay’s question touching unseen things deep inside her, drawing her tight, opening her up. Her nipples beaded beneath the brocade weave of her dress and she tucked her hands beneath her arms, more as a guard against unwanted magic than an attempt to hide her body’s reaction. [all of the previous is a physical reaction--with a teensy bit of explanation, but after is where we get the true emotional reaction.] Why did he have to ask her that question now? Now when she wanted him so much it made her mouth dry and other places all too wet?

“I— It’s not that—“ Goddess, what could she say that wouldn’t either insult him or encourage him?

Torchay waited, his face an impassive mask, candlelight licking over his sculpted form, tempting her to do the same. She curled her hands into fists against the urge to touch.

See? Most of it is action and dialogue. But the internal reaction is sprinkled in with it, and that's all you need. Not a whole lot, but enough to expand on what is physically happening. You need both. The action and dialog AND the internal reaction--mental and emotional--to the action.

When I judge contests, I often feel like a psychoanalyst for the characters, given all the times I'm writing "Why?" or "And what does he feel about that?" Those things do need to be included. Not over pages and pages, but all the way through every bit of it.

Good food and good books

Because the fella is on this gluten-free diet, I get all excited when I find new stuff that he can eat that's really good. I have probably a year's worth of Southern Living magazines in the house--I read them, and then set them aside to go back through later and pull the good stuff out--and sometimes (most of the time) it takes me a while to go back through. I think this particular magazine was around a year old. Don't think it was more. (I hope.) Anyway, the recipe was sort of Italian-Southern-Southwestern, because it was browned polenta slices topped with black-eyed peas heavily laced with fresh cilantro and tomato. Basically, you slice up one of those pre-packaged tubes of polenta, brown it in olive oil (they call for a non-stick skillet and cooking spray, but since I don't have a non-stick skillet...). Then you cook a can of black-eyed peas and chopped onion, and a little salt and cayenne, till the liquid's almost gone, add in some cilantro and tomato and top the polenta slices with it. Very simple. Very good stuff. I don't know that anyone but a Southerner would have thought to put black-eyed peas with polenta--but hey, fried polenta is just a fancy name for a round, flat hushpuppy! Maybe it's Texas cuisine, since it's peas plus cilantro and tomato, which has a lot in common with "Texas caviar." Anyway--good stuff.

I've been reading some good books lately too. Picked up DARK MOON DEFENDER by Sharon Shinn. I liked it better than THIRTEENTH HOUSE--which I liked, just not as much as DMD. This one takes place in the same universe, and is Justin's story, about how he comes into his own, and falls in love. There are TWO happy endings in this story. Very good read, IMO.

I need to make maps for Eternal Rose. I have paper and everything, just haven't done it yet. Going to Galveston and the beach for a day or two beginning tomorrow...don't know as I'll take the paper with me. I wonder if I need to use the legal-sized paper for the maps... I'll ask. Also need to write a short bio. I hate writing bios. I want to sound cute and clever, and just can't seem to do it. At least I don't sound clever to myself. Maybe it sounds better to other people. I'd post two bios here and let y'all vote on which one sounds best--but that would require that I WRITE two bios. I don't even want to write one. But I will do it! I am brave.

Okay--have to share this with you. When the boy was still at home and studying WWI history, they were doing some kind of project looking up the early efforts at propaganda, and he stumbled across a cache of French WWI war posters online, the "Loose Lips Sink Ships" sort. One of these posters showed a chicken sitting atop a pile of eggs and said in large print: "Je suis une brave poule de guerre!" Which translated means: "I am a brave war chicken!"

And now, every time I think "I am brave," I also think "I am a brave war chicken!" Je suis une brave poule de guerre!

So there. :)

Sex in Fiction

I'm writing mostly fantasy now, but it's romantic fantasy, and it could as easily go the other way, to fantasy/paranormal romance. I got my start in romance, writing Harlequin/ Silhouette/ Mills & Boon series books. Those of you who've read the Rose books know they have sex in them. I don't think I've written anything without it--I know I haven't published anything without it. Some of the books I've written have more than others. I was surprised when I got through New Blood and only had one sex scene in it--but that's because of who my characters are. They have issues. A lot more issues than Kallista and her crew ever had.

I've found it interesting that most of the male-written fiction has a lot less sex in it than that written by females, despite the stereotype of the sex-crazed male, and the ones that have sex tend to do more "closing the bedroom door" than female authors. And while I haven't done any real statistically significant studies (which seem to me to be impossible anyway, since quality of writing is a pretty subjective thing), most male writers don't seem to write sex scenes as well as women writers. There are some who do. And most of them write romance. (Harold Lowry, who writes as Leigh Greenwood, and K.N. Casper are two good ones.)

I'm heading in a round-about way for my point. In a rather scholarly discussion of the romance genre begun by a Princeton University class in "American Best Sellers" on Romance by the Blog a couple of weeks ago, someone asked about romance and porn and the difference between them. And some of the respondents got into a discussion about whether romance gets labeled as porn because it is, at least in part, about women's sexuality, which can be threatening to some people. One of the respondents (Robin) had this to say:

IMO the vast majority of women are conflicted *in some way* about our sexuality. I don't know how much of this is a function of patriarchal assumptions about gender roles and how much of it is some kind of policing mechanism among women that is only *partially* informed by patriarchy (at what point do we take responsibility for our own agency as women?!), but I think the ambivalence emerges within Romance fiction ... and I'd even go so far as to say that much of what shows up in Romance is some effort to grapple with this ambivalence, to put it out in the open and to work it out somehow.

I quoted this, because I couldn't say it better myself. I do think a lot of the "policing" in romance fiction--and in other fiction by women--is done by women.

My Rose books are out of the mainstream when it comes to the relationships between the characters. They've had some pretty harsh reader reviews at Amazon because of that. (I haven't read any of them since I saw the first one--why inflict them upon myself?) I won't say the reviews were all by women, because I don't know. But I'd wager most of them are. The men who've read my Rose books (guys tend to want more bashing and gore than most fantasy books have--though the Rose books have plenty of swordfights and such) have liked them. Still, given the current uproar in the romance-reading world over rape in romance, and the letters I've received on the sex in my books--all anecdotal evidence to be sure--I'd say that women are the quickest to react, and to condemn when a (female) writer steps outside the "zone" to explore these ambivalent areas that make us squirm.

I won't be buying or reading the "rape" book (You'll have to go elsewhere to find out what I'm referring to.) because it's not one of my fantasies. Nor will I be reading any more books in the Silhouette Desire series because the heroes have gone too close to that abusive edge for my comfort even though my first published books were Desires, and I have a lot of good friends still writing for them. I hate that I won't be able to support them any more, but I don't buy books I don't read, and I just can't read those books any more. I hate that editorial/ marketing decisions have transformed what was once one of my favorite lines into something I just can't handle. But this is a personal issue.

Just because I don't like very "alpha" heroes doesn't mean I think nobody should write them. Just because I don't care for submissive-female erotica doesn't mean I think they should be banned. Obviously more women prefer that sort of erotica than the other way round, because several of the erotica publishers won't even look at stories with dominant women. And if someone wants to write rape-fantasy stories, I'm not going to say she shouldn't. I'm not going to buy them, because I don't like that kind of story, but I don't like really scary romantic suspense either, and that's certainly not going away.

I guess my point is exactly like the points made by lots of other people. If you don't like whatever sexual episode might be in a story, don't read it. If you do, and if you decide to post a review about it, try to be cogent in your reasons for disliking the story. But under the fiction umbrella--whether it be romance, fantasy, mystery or literary--an author should feel free to write about whatever kind of sex he/she wants to write. It's a way to explore part of what makes us human, and the mixed-up feelings that go along with something so important.