Accidents: Vanishing Manuscript Syndrome

By Anna C. Bowling

One of the greatest disasters known to writerkind can happen in any number of ways. A power outage could do it, or a pet chewing on the extension cord. "Save" and "delete" are only a mouse click apart. There's the dreaded internet virus that brings the blue screen of death. Maybe the files from the old word processing program aren't compatible with the new one and the writer is now looking at a file full of incomprehensible symbols.

Vanishing Manuscript Syndrome has five unique stages (with apologies to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross):

Denial: This can't be real. All that work, all that research, all those characters and their world where the writer lived and breathed for all that time, gone in a blink.

Anger: Family members may rush in upon hearing the animalistic roar that comes from the writer's den. The writer may malign the internet in general, the computer, the computer's power source, or whatever has made off with the best book ever. This isn't fair.

Bargaining: The writer may make appeals to their deity of choice and/or resident techy family member, promising extravagant rewards if the file can be saved.

Depression: What's the use? The book stunk anyway. Maybe this is a sign from the universe. Maybe the writer should forget about writing and go back to alligator wrestling or something less stressful.

Acceptance: Okay, that version is gone and it's not coming back. The writer could give up, but the characters are still there and still want their stories told. The writer searches for backup copies, or requests them from critique partners. Deep breath, beverage of choice, and open a new document. This version will be even better.

Have you ever had Vanishing Manuscript Syndrome? If not, how do you prevent it? How do you deal with recovering from this sort of accident?

Writing historical romances allows Anna C. Bowling to travel through time on a daily basis and make the voices in her head pay rent. Her current release, ORPHANS IN THE STORM, is available from Awe-Struck E-books.

What Surprised Me: Plotting, Pantsing and Puzzling

By Anna C. Bowling

When I first started creating my own stories, I didn't know any techniques. Then as I started to learn more about writing, I learned about plotting. A character's journey is from wanting something to either getting it or knowing they will never get it. How do they get there? Lots of options. There's the snowflake plot, the W plot, Goal, Motivation and Conflict. Rising action. Falling action. Plateaus. Arcs. Augh! Getting characters from point A to point Z, precisely pinpointing exactly where points B, C, and D through Y are along the way can be too confusing for many a new writer, and anyway, don't real writers run on pure creativity?

At one point I thought so, and it sure seems to work for authors like Jo Beverly. Her Flying into the Mist talk originally given at an RWA conference in 1999 has helped many pansting writers accept that, for them, writing isn't something that can be captured in index cards or character charts. So I tried flying through the mist, hither and yon as the day took me, only to find that for me, flying through the mist more often turned into a belly flop on the rocks. I needed more order than that.

So if plotting wasn't working and pantsing wasn't working, what was there left? Hopeless, utterly hopeless. I threw my (metaphorical) hands in the air and decided that all I could do was all I could do and if I was going to tell my stories, it would have to be my way. I knew where my story started and I knew where it had to end, so what if I tried working both ends toward the middle? What if I worked on what I knew and prodded, poked and even bribed those headstrong characters until they coughed up the information I needed to see where things were headed? What did I have to lose?

Sure enough, things came. A little bit here, a little bit there. Things didn't come in order, but who cared? I wrote things as they came, labeled each new section and figured I'd put them together later. I didn't know this was a technique of its own, or that it had a name, but when I read Emily Bryan's "Only One Right Way to Write a Novel" blog post, "puzzling" did seem to fit the bill. Puzzling with a bit of layering, to be more specific. Different bits from different methods fit together, often over a few different passes through the manuscript.

I never thought that I'd wind up with notebooks full of color coded sticky notes, numbered scenes and a rainbow of highlighted passages, song lists, images and the like, but so far, so good. All of that gives me the picture I'm working toward as I fit the puzzle together. Your mileage may vary. The way that works is the way that works for you.

Sports & Entertainment: Dare to Dream

By Bonnie Vanak

As I sat down to write this blog last night, I wanted to write about ancient Egyptians and board games. But my mind kept zipping up and down like a game of chutes and ladders...

...the chutes and ladders that have to do with the dream of publishing your book.

So to keep on topic, I'll say this about entertainment. Ancient Egyptians loved playing games. One favorite was Senet, a board game in which you tried to reach the kingdom of Osiris. The bad guys tried to stop you. They kept detouring the goal of reaching a happily ever after.

In publishing these days, reaching that happily ever after seems harder than before. The economy, well, let's face it. We didn't need a panel of economic experts to tell us yesterday what most of us already knew. The U.S. is in a recession. Duh! I won't dwell on the bad news. We're all pretty much aware of the realities.

If the ancient Egyptians were to create a board game of publishing, there would be evil forces trying to prohibit you from reaching the Kingdom of Contract. Such evil forces might range from rejection, to a tight market, to publishers fearing to take chances on books that are different.

But in your favor is a powerful weapon called The Dream.

The Dream fuels your writing. It's the dream of finishing your book, hearing those lovely words that you made a sale, seeing your book published. It's the dream of telling a story that's spun around in your imagination, and bringing it to life to share with the world.

Some writers start out writing because they see it as a business and a job. Oh, it is a business, and it's a job where you'll work harder than you've ever worked before. But it's a funky, precarious business like most of the arts. There are no guarantees.

The only guarantee you have is you, the work you put into your novel, and your perseverance. And The Dream.

If you're published and it's been a long time between contracts, don't let go of The Dream. Keep writing. The market shifts, it always does. The economy will rebound. It's not over. I've known authors who were dropped by their publishers. They kept at it and remade their careers and sold again. They persisted, persevered and published.

If you're too discouraged to write to get another contract, write for the sake of writing. Write for the reasons listed in this post by author Toni McGee Causey.

Write a story you were dying to tell, but dismissed because it was too different, too tough of a sale, too impractical. Go for it. Bend the rules, let your imagination soar. Before I got published, I tried to write to fit the market. I wanted to get published in category romance because I heard that was the right pathway.

Note: There is no pathway to publishing that is right for everyone!

I wrote category romances and got rejected. Finally I sat down to write a book I wanted to read. I had a dream of writing a book set in Victorian Egypt, about an independent woman wanting to be an archaeologist and the handsome, dangerous sheikh who guards the treasure she seeks to find. I thought I'd have a better chance at winning the lottery than getting it published, but I wanted to write it. I could not let it go. I wrote for the sheer pleasure of telling the story.

That book became The Falcon and the Dove, my first published single title historical. Years later, I finally got published in category romance with my paranormal books.

I did it backwards.

If you're an aspiring writer with a plethora of rejections, don't let go of The Dream. You might not sell the first book you write. Or the second. Or even the third. But if you keep at it, polish and hone your craft, and learn all you can, the odds are in your favor that you will accomplish your goal.

No matter what your status as a writer, when you sit down to write the book, remember The Dream. Write the book because you must tell a story. Write it for that part of you that dares to dream, the person who will not let the dream die.

Be aware of what is selling in publishing, but remember publishing is like a soccer game. Schedules are set far in advance and by the time everyone ends up running after the ball, the ball is going in another direction. Be savvy about the market, but don't let the market bind your creativity in a straitjacket.

If you keep trying, and nothing is working, consider adjusting your goals. If your immediate goal is to earn millions, live in an oceanfront mansion and write your books on a little pink laptop while sipping pina coladas served by a cabana boy with a great six-pack, well, maybe you should rethink why you're writing. Publishing is precarious at best. Yes, there are those who come scampering out of the gate with a six-figure contract, a blizzard of good publicity and hit the NY Times best-seller list in the single digits. But most authors don't. Fact of the business.

Speaking of dreams, look at Stephanie Meyer. She started writing Twilight after having a dream about a vampire and a human girl. She had The Dream, not of getting published, but of telling a story. This is the very heart of The Dream, when the idea seizes you by the throat, shakes you up, will not let go. The images are seared into your mind. You can't NOT write. The words are spinning around in your head and you can't type fast enough. You want to be hooked up to some telepathy typewriter like the author in Stephen King's The Tommyknockers.

Seize the moment, be grateful for friends, family and any support you have while playing the board game of Contract. If you have a good editor and good agent, count your blessings and learn from them. If they want revisions, consider what they're asking. They're looking at your book with different eyes, and can turn a good book into a great book. Remember, it's a subjective business. One editor or agent may pass on your story for a variety of reasons. Another might fall in love with it and push with all her/his might to get it to contract.

Learn from experienced, successful authors willing to share their wisdom. Let them inspire you. Some of my mentors are Sherrilyn Kenyon, Christine Feehan and Susan Elizabeth Phillips. If you ever have the opportunity to hear these authors speak in person, do it. Just hearing Sherrilyn's story about how she had no money, and took her very last postage stamp to mail out a manuscript, the one that landed her a contract, is fuel for The Dream.

Lastly, learn to take a break and recharge your batteries. My favorite method is reading. For me, there's nothing like reading a book that pulls me in like quicksand, a book I can't put it down. A book that reminds me of the pleasures of reading, being entertained, to laugh, to cry, to give a little sigh of regret when the last page is turned and there is no more story.

A book that fires The Dream.

We are writers. We are entertainers. We are many things, but above all else, one thing unites us.

We are dreamers.

Publishing is a board game of uncertainty and like the ancient Egyptian game of Senet, there are many obstacles to arriving at the kingdom we seek. But if you keep playing, keep writing, keep working to push past those barriers, you can win.

Dare to dream.

Expansion & Invasion: A Cunning Plan

By Anna C. Bowling

Setting: Unspecified location, long ago. Two historical personages survey the world beyond their borders and debate what must be done.

First Historical Personage: Hey, look at that place over there.

Second Historical Personage: Nice and roomy. Think they'd mind if a few hundred of us moved in with all our stuff?

First Historical Personage: They might. They have their own stuff already, and I'm fairly sure they're using their houses.

Second Historical Personage: We like some of their stuff. Think they'd share?

First Historical Personage: Given the right incentive, possibly. Got any ideas?

Second Historical Personage: We have things that make them go "ow" if used properly.

First Historical Personage: They have owie things, too.

Second Historical Personage: Hmm.

First Historical Personage: Hmm.

Second Historical Personage: What if we asked nicely?

First Historical Personage: That might work if any of them speak our language.

Second Historical Personage: Do they?

First Historical Personage: What do you think?

Second Historical Personage: Probably not the majority.

First Historical Personage: Probably not. What we'd need is a universal language.

Second Historical Personage: Good luck with that one. Are you sure you don't want to use the owie things?

First Historical Personage: If we use our owie things, they use their owie things, and that can't end well.

Second Historical Personage: True, true.

First Historical Personage: So, the question is, how do we get them to let us move in a few hundred of our nearest and dearest (or least desirable, depending on our motives) in a way that could end well? I mean, isn't the whole invasion thing not weighted in their favor? Except for the "them" that fight back and keep us out altogether. Which, I might point out, would not end well for us.

Second Historical Personage: Ending well is a must. They have comely wenches.

First Historical Personage: That's it!

Second Historical Personage: What's what?

First Historical Personage: They have comely wenches, we have strapping young men. I know it's a rather simplistic view, but that's the genius of the whole plan.

Second Historical Personage: We have a plan? I thought we'd send in the barbarians....

First Historical Personage: No. No barbarians. Maybe a few who look like barbarians, at least before a decent bath.

Second Historical Personage: Bath? I shudder at the thought.

First Historical Personage: That might be one of the reasons you were asked to leave in the first place. Work with me here. We send in some outwardly rough specimens, preferably with tortured pasts, and they will seek out the comely wenches. Or the wenches seek them out. It can go both ways. Keep them in close quarters, and given enough time, they'll get to know each other as individuals and nature will take its course. Which will cause the parties involved to cut through the preconceived notions and things can indeed end well. Or well-ish. Depends on who's in charge of actually writing things down.

Second Historical Personage: But surely there will be some collateral damage.

First Historical Personage: Sadly, yes, but that can depend on the writers again, and it does leave the door open for sequels. Which will also end well. Even in the darkest of times, love does find a way to turn things around.

Maladies & Treatments: Writing with Folk Cures

By Anna C. Bowling

Growing up as the child of older (both were over forty when they adopted me; the photo is of me, at three, on the blacktop where I skinned pretty much everything) first generation American parents must have hardwired me for unusual historicals right from the start. Many of the treatments for the minor childhood illnesses or injuries I had in the 1960s/70s were as likely to come from the traditions my mothers and aunts, one of whom who worked as a nurse, learned from their mother, who learned them from her mother back in Italy in the early 20th century.

As a child, I'd often wondered what my mother grew that patch of mint for (aside from the delightful smell) but when puberty hit, I found out it was a natural remedy for menstrual cramps. By then we had moved away from the house with the fresh mint in the garden, so it had to come from a store, but it still worked, and the mint tea also worked to help with nausea.

Sore throats were as likely to be treated with licorice as commercial medications, which may be why I still like licorice today, and I will long remember the discussion my parents had when my father wanted to give me a hot toddy (mostly rum) to help ease the discomfort of a bad case of chicken pox when I was ten. They left it up to me, and I declined.

One of my strongest memories of my mother's Aunt Anna, who I only knew as an elderly woman who spoke a fast stream of Italian was the time when I'd talked a neighbor child into splitting a bar of Ex-Lax (to be fair, I was five and the grownups had described it to me as chocolate.) Being sorely lacking in my Italian, I can't vouch for anything said that day, but Aunt Anna refused to let my mother take me to the doctor, instead pounding an endless supply of ice with a hammer and pouring it down my throat before depositing me in the bathroom with even more tall glasses of ice. When I asked my mother to translate, she said this was Aunt Anna’s treatment for loose bowels, something she learned back in Italy.

Since I survived and turned out okay, my foremothers must have been on to something, so when characters in my historicals now have the need for doctoring, I turn to the state of the art medical care of their time. Often, such as in colonial settlements, the most advanced medical treatments meant calling in whoever had dealt with the illness or injury before. If the need was something the person hadn't encountered before, common sense was often the best guess.

In my colonial historical romance, MY OUTCAST HEART, the hero, Dalby, suffers third degree burns to one hand. Today, witnesses would call 911 and paramedics would rush him to the burn unit, where trained professionals would examine him and use a variety of treatments and procedures to find out how bad the damage was, how much mobility he might be able to retain and even address cosmetic repair. In 1720, Dalby was lucky this occurred in winter, so heroine Tabetha can drag him outside and stick his hand in a snowbank. The cold would help, but the "everybody knows" medicine of the time--likely coating the burn in butter or bear grease--we now know would have the exact opposite effect.

Looking at the folk medicine of the times I write about, and consulting with several friends who work in the medical field of today as well as visiting living history museums lets my characters have the best--or worst--of both worlds, depending on what the story needs. Good thing a great read is excellent medicine in any time.

Introduction

This is my first post, so here's a little information about me before I talk about historicals.

I went to work straight from school, on to university as a mature student, gained a degree in English Language and Literature, and then a diploma in Library Science which all sounds terribly boring but was exciting at the time. I managed libraries in the academic sector and I've worked most of my adult life, which is why retirement seems so wonderful now. Along the way I've divorced and re-married and it is so much better the second time around.

My two historical novels are set in Viking times. They're both available as e-books from Fictionwise and one as POD from Amazon.com.

The Banners of Alba follows the repercussions of Old King Malcolm's decision to force through his grandson’s claim to the throne in preference to the traditional method of selection of the best candidate from the derbfine. When Finlay's girl is married off to a cousin and his best friend joins the King, Finlay throws in his lot with his half-brother Thorfinn of Orkney. Resentment simmers and makes for a heated relationship with Thorfinn's beautiful and headstrong sister Rada. A desperate struggle for the crown follows in a violent, exciting age slowly acclimatizing to Christianity yet still believing in love potions.

Dark Pool is set a couple of years later. The heroine is Eba, a young ward of Alba who makes a bad decision that ends in her being kidnapped by Dublin Vikings. Finlay feels obliged to rescue her, but finds Dublin's ruler Sigurd Silkenbeard a wily opponent who denies all knowledge of the girl. Meanwhile, Eba fights off an arranged marriage with Torquil's strange son Kimi.

Both books are written in the mainstream mould, but now I'm trying my hand at a lighter type of category historical romance. I'm re-editing an as yet untitled tale set in late Victorian Northumberland. The tone of this one is kind of frothy in comparison to the Viking books, and it is great fun to write, but of course the heroine will have to have a Black Moment of the soul before she can be totally happy with her hero.

For the Victorian time period the research is easy, but for the 11th century in Scotland it is a very different story. Almost no written material of the period has survived. Most of the information has been gleaned from the written records of other nations, particularly the Irish; but it is not unusual for the four major sources to contradict each other, vary the dates and call people by different names. Icelandic and Scandinavian records offer a different perspective, often along with another set of names and dates.

I found a wonderful academic discussion on the Internet about the reality and location of a place called variously Lothlend, Lathlind or Lochlainn. Was it the Isle of Man, somewhere in Ireland or in Scotland? It is also often difficult to decide if references to three men called Sigurd, all alive at approximately the same time, are actually one man, or any combination of father, son, brother and/nephew.

Writers were often monks and scribes who, since their livelihood depended on it, knew which side their bread was buttered. They wrote to glorify their patrons, and if that meant they bent the truth a little, that’s what they did and who can blame them?

This gives a writer wonderful freedom to invent and build a story around characters that have a nodding acquaintance with the scanty facts, which, as you've guessed, is what I did. Facts about food and weapons and ships are as accurate as I can make them by reading archaeological research, but the characters are truly a work of imagination. I went to Dublin to do research for Dark Pool and stayed in a hotel on Fishamble Street, watched the rain run down the hill to the river and thought about my heroine on that same dog leg of a street a thousand years ago. It was an odd feeling, but quietly enjoyable.

Jen
http://jenblackauthor.blogspot.com

Where Did the Month Go?

Okay, how did it get to be the 25th again so soon without me realizing it? And for most of you, the 25th of July is pretty much over already. My only excuse is that it's only a little after 3pm here, so I'm not really, really, totally late in posting this in my time zone. I'm only a little bit late. (that's my story and I'm sticking to it! ;) )

But, I guess this will lead into my topic choice of the month, finding time for it all. I need quiet and peaceful surroundings when I write for the most part. Though last week I managed to pound out 2K while sitting on the beach about 10 feet away from a volley ball game. With summer vacation in full swing this month, peace and quiet is in short supply around my house. It's during this time I look in awe at those of you who are pulling 40 hour weeks at an outside job, raising a family and still manage to churn out page after page. The only way I can make myself feel better is to tell myself we've all got different writing styles and procedures which makes some people better able to write a coherent sentence at 11:30 pm while others can sit at a table at Starbucks and produce wonderful prose. I can do neither, though if you put me in an empty room with a laptop and no distractions (spider solitaire anyone?) I'm a regular Nora Roberts - in volume, not quality.

My life is settling in soon. My husband has finally hired a competent secretary, so I no longer have to fill in at his office. August 2nd school starts (thank heavens for year-round school) and my angels will be out of my hair for a blessed 8 hours a day. Will I be able to sit down and write after a summer long hiatus? I sure hope so!

Reading and Writing Through the Storms of Life

This has been a month to make history in my family. Within one week, my husband had three asthma attacks, the first one coming within a hairsbreadth of fatal, and my father went into the hospital for a surgical procedure, which proved to be one more thing than his poor body could handle, and this week, we lay him to rest. Hubby is home, healthy and back at work, and a big support as we start this new phase.

For a couple of weeks there, my life was spent shuttling between two hospitals, and it wasn't at all uncommon to go two days and change without sleep. Signing my name on countless medical documents for both of my guys, starting to recognize the staff and their voices on the phone, and all that stuff, stress can get to even the hardiest of us real-life heroines. It was, incidentally, all those heroines from mumblecough years of reading and writing historical romance that helped me keep up what I needed to get through it all.

Back when my father started having his troubles, we made a hospital bag -– something to grab when going out the door for medical emergencies, stocked with all the necessaries, from lists of doctors and medications, to clean socks, healthy snacks, and...a romance novel. Trust me, if you're going to be spending hours in a waiting room or by the bedside of a loved one, you're going to want a romance novel. Give me the choice of watching the closed captioning on the news or talk shows versus opening the cover of a book and slipping into another century full of adventure and love, and guess which I'll pick every time?

I thought when this started that I wasn't going to get a lot of writing done. Wrong. I've been toting around notebooks for two of my current projects, and welcoming the chance to not only slip into another era, but have control over it as well. Visiting with Trista and Drew on a deserted island in the Georgian era, or Angus and Summer in modern New York and Tudor era Scotland, is a welcome break, and a reminder that real life is going to throw us curves in any era, and like the heroines we are (as we all are heroines of our own stories) we can get through it. I can't ask my heroines to push through if I'm not going to push through myself. Even on days when I can't get anything on a page, the story still goes on in my head, and that little bit of normal is a big help to get through the rest. Because heroines always do.

To the authors of the books that saw me through some long nights, and ushered me through the rigors of ancient Rome, the social strata of Victorian England, the wild adventure of sixteenth century Caribbean seas and the pageantry of the medieval era, thank you a thousand times for the respite, and a thousand more for the inspiration. In choosing which books should replace the ones just read, I found myself pleasantly surprised that there does seem to be a bigger selection of settings and eras these days, which can only be good for readers and writers alike.

It also gave me a new connection with some of the hard things my characters have to experience. The eras I write about don't have the medical advantages we have today; a loved one could either linger indefinitely or be gone in an instant, and some of the common cures or treatments of the day might have the exact opposite effect to what we know to do now. All of which may someday find their ways into future stories. Life, death, love, fear, faith, hope, family, friendship and such aren't confined to a particular time or place.

When you come to a tough bend in the road, how do you get back on track when it's time to get writing again? Does reading help, or is that for another time? What about using real life experiences as ways to make your characters work for their HEAs? Some things are universal.

Deadlines, Anyone?

As usual, I am behind on a deadline. If you're an editor, forget I said that, will ya?

In the past couple of years, I've taken up the habit of selling books on proposal versus finishing a book and then offering it for sale. I thought this was how "it" was done, whatever "it" was. Why spend months writing a novel only to discover there is no market and end up shelving it indefinitely? Why not sell the concept, then collect the advance and have something to show (in the form of immediate gratification) while you're writing?

For me, I've discovered the answer. Because life gets in the way of my fairy tale. Daily. Hourly, it seems. I'm writing a contemporary time travel pantheon paranormal. It's the third in a trilogy, so I know the characters pretty darn well, and I have the entire story outlined. And I have most of the chapters done. Hopefully by the time this entry is published, I will have the entire book written and turned in. I'm targeting for the 15th though, so it's possible that as you're reading this, I'm chain smoking, staring at the screen of my laptop somewhere in the confines of my dungeon office, little clumps of my hair strewn about the floor around my ergonomically correct chair.

I've decided that I won't sell another book on proposal for several reasons. And here they are for whomever is still reading:

Procrastination. Plain and simple. I can't remember to send my bills out on time (I've finally given in to online banking and automatic payment systems) so why should I care about a deadline months, or even a year in the future? I have time to write it. Pee-shaw. I'll watch a movie, instead.

Which brings me to No. 2. Movies. "Survivor." The Lifetime Channel. Re-runs of Sleepless in Seattle on Encore. Is it possible to be a television addict? If so, point me to the nearest twelve steps, please. Cut the cord. Literally. And speaking of cutting the cord...

The Husband. Love him until Death do we Part. He really, really hates watching TV alone, unless it's something I'm truly not interested in, which isn't much. (I'm a writer. I'm interested in pretty much anything.) So even though I know I have a deadline, even though he knows I have a deadline, and even though he encourages my writing to the tune of I-want-to-be-a-kept-man-someday, he asks me to watch a movie with him almost every night. Hence, the television addiction. I suppose, that makes my dearest my pusher.

Writing during the day at least five days each week, while he is at work, or sleeping off his massively exhausting graveyard shifts, seems like the perfect solution. One would think, anyway. The phone rings at least fifteen times each day, and guess what? I answer it. Why? It could be an emergency. One of my children actually following my long-standing rule about bugging Mom "at work" call me if you're on fire or bleeding. Generally, it's a salesman, or my kids just wanting to check in (God bless 'em), or my husband asking me how the writing is going and what's for dinner. Totally my fault. I'm the one who picks up the phone, but I have to. If I let it ring, I end up doing that star-69 thing and calling them back to see what they wanted. Pathetic but true.

Writer's block. Going on two years now. I do have interspersed periods of lucidity. After all, I've written two books in the past year (Dawn of Redemption and The Flyer). I've started several shorter erotica ebooks, too. They're not bad. But all things being equal, when I see that blank Word document and that little curser blinking at me, I think of what I'm missing on Starz.

So these are the top five reasons why I've decided to get the sexy back, so to speak. No more pressure! Before I wrote to a deadline, the muse took up residence regularly in every part of my brain. I couldn't shut her up if I tried. I spent loads of time on the lists promoting the fact I wanted to BE a writer. I had the energy of a high-school-cheerleader-on-ephedrine staying up until three each morning just enjoying the process of writing. I miss those days so much that I'm going back. I'm finishing my contracted works (actually Dawn of the Fire Moon, "the current deadline book" is the last one) and then I'm going to write the way I want to.

How is that? When the inspiration hits. I have a feeling it will hit much more often once the pressure cooker blows.

How about you? Do you find you work better under pressure? Doesn't have to be a writing deadline, but do you rise to a challenge or beat yourself up because the end is nigh? I'll check back as soon as possible (read: after I've groveled to my editor about how late my book is) to see what everyone has to say.

Has Anybody Seen My Muse?

My muse has been a constant companion for all the years I've been writing. It's outlasted most of my serious relationships. Any creative flight of fancy it inspired, I was along for the ride. "Hmm, a novel about passion and intrigue in Moorish Spain; and I should spend a couple of weeks in Spain to do my research? Let's do it!"

Flash forward to a month ago. In the midst of upheaval at home, frustrations at work and really nasty cold, I realized my muse had gone missing. No more fingers clacking away on the keyboard to finish the novel, no more mad dashes off to the library or local Borders for new research. Author friends reassured me, "Don't worry, it'll come back."

I can only assume it's left me for a more talented, driven writer. So what have I done about it? First, I tried not to worry, convincing myself that I needed the break. So I went on vacation, went to the movies, caught up on the latest celebrity gossip, hung out with friends, knowing that if I gave it enough time, my muse would return. Then of course, guilt set in. "I really should be at home working on that novel." But instead of staring at a blank screen on my computer, I pulled out the old photo album and looked at some of those great pictures I'd taken of Spain. I also went on Wikipedia to edit some of the on-line articles about the historical figures in my novel, all the while thinking, "I've really got to finish this novel and get it in the hands of the right publisher. Too many inaccuracies about these people; maybe I can set the record straight."

Well, it's June and I'm still waiting for that good old friend of mine to return. Since I've been assured by my writer friends that this happens to everyone, what do you when your muse has left you? How do you try to get that inspiration back?

Lisa

Process This

Late in the day, but still here. I've had a story idea eating me whole, so it's not at all unusual to forget things like putting the cat food dish down in the cat's eating area and instead leave it on the counter and trot back to the office to bang out the next section of outline. I've gone through an entire legal pad in a very short time, and am now resorting to its matching shopping list until I can find a replacement, killed a favorite pen dead, and the particular sticky notes I've been using are not long for this world. These things matter.

In some of my preferred historical periods, my process might be considered eccentric at best, a ticket to Bedlam at worst. Normally when I talk about starting a new project, I'll prepare a compostion book with a collaged cover and attatched bookmark, and all notes go right in there, nice and easy. For work on a Georgian-set book, for example, I'll collect decorative papers by Anna Griffin to alter, distress or combine with images culled from other sources. StockXChng is a good place to start browsing for stock images of everything from people (I prefer closeups of hands, eyes, etc -- easier not to be distracted by modern clothing or props) to gardens, buildings, and miscellaneous items. There's even a menu that allows searching for images by mood. If you get the Rhapsody romance book club, the newsletters are great for images. Spread out on the floor and combine in different ways until it feels right.

If I start in a different sort of notebook (as with this project, where I started with a legal pad -- but an Anna Griffin legal pad -- flowers and paisley) then if I fill that one, I need to pick up a new one that is the same. Or close enough. It has to feel right in my hands, beneath my fingertips, and be up to getting toted around in my purse. I will become crochety if I run out, hence my now working on the matching shopping list paper that came with the fancy legal pad. I am like my historical heroines. I will make do with what I have while fighting for what I want. They had to get it from somewhere.

There's music, of course. I think a monster sprang to life when I acquired my first mp3 player. Though the entertainment factor of me trying to figure out new hardware was quite amusing for my family (I'm a scream at the offending bunch of circuits type person) the absolute joy of having Sting snuggle up to Mary Chapin Carpenter (there's an image) backed up by Meat Loaf, Eva Cassidy and Great Big Sea, all somehow mingling to whisk me back to Tudor era Scotland, Cromwell's England (he'd object, I know, but I didn't ask him) or the eighteenth century Carribbean somewhow feels right.

I'm well aware that some of the clerks in my favorite candle stores probably watch me funny when I come in and sniff things for very long periods of time, but it's important. Where else can the average modern woman find out exactly what the combination of woodsmoke, red wine and sea air can do to the senses? Leather, roses and fresh cotton? Fresh peaches and lilacs, but it's in the middle of December? Sometimes we need to know these things.

We all have peculiarities in our processes, things that those on the outside might not think go together in the general scheme of things. How on earth could we be looking right at something very modern, very straightforward and instantly be transported centuries and half a world away? I like to call it writervision. If they have to ask, they won't understand. They don't have to; for some, books are like laws and sausages. They're glad to have them, but don't really want to see how they're made.

What parts of your process make perfect sense to you but not everyone else?

Back to the Real World

I am just back from the New England chapter of RWA's Let Your Imagination Take Flight conference, and I feel like this:

One would think that after getting back from two days spent exclusively in the company of other writers, editors, publishers and supporters of the romance genre, lugging home suitcases filled with books, chocolate, bookmarks, pens, sticky notes, magnets and other inventive promotional materials, head swimming with stuff gleaned from conferences, pitch sessions, networking and new story ideas, there would be no lack of things to say, but, well, refer to picture above.

I'm not complaining, not by any means. On the contrary, I had a weekend away from everyday responsibilites, where my number one identity was Romance Writer. I had a chance to get to know several of my chapter sisters better, make new friends and even got a request for a partial from the editor I pitched to. Erm, to whom I pitched. Maybe I shouldn't have skipped the grammar workshop.

There's something exciting in the air at a conference, and maybe that's why coming back to the real world after one can be as exhausting as it is. Of course I was ready to do the Snoopy dance in my chair after hearing the editor/agent panel agree that the big historical is poised for a comeback, but once the luggage is unpacked, all I want to do in my office chair is snooze.

Maybe we need to do studies and see if there really is such a thing as Postconference Syndrome. I hereby volunteer for said study, because I believe there is. Signs include refusing to sit down to dinner with the family unless someone leaves a free book on my plate, trying to open the bedroom door by inserting a card in the doorknob, and being unable to find the rooms in my own apartment without a floorplan and detailed list of who will be in which room at what time. If at any point I attempt to scoop all the clutter from the coffee table into my purse, while referring to said coffee table as the freebie table, well, then it's definetly time to seek help.

But what sort of help? There are partials to be proofed and printed and sent off to their (hopefully) future editors and agents. Current WIPs to finish, and those strange people who seem to be in all the family photos and keep expecting me to carry on a conversation with them while I make growly noises every time they make a move toward the Godivas I won in a giveaway.

In the end, I think it's the same help that we had before going to a conference in the first place. Bottom in chair, fingers on keyboard. Timeless advice. Hey, maybe I should teach a workshop on that.

What are your conference experiences?

Musings on Deadlines

In less than a week's time the deadline for my next manuscript is going to hit me over the head. Apparently some people write really, really well the closer their deadlines; why, some people even need their deadlines to write really, really well.

Shall I let you into a secret?

I'm not one of these people.

Oh no! I go into full panic mode at the mere thought of a deadline, while my Muse apparently wanders off into la-la-wonderland. As a result my characters start to behave in the strangest ways imaginable: heroes throw temper tantrums, heroines hold knives against somebody else's throat or start thinking about contraception (which I blame on a recent discussion on Smart Bitches).

As if this weren't bad enough, gaping holes suddenly open up in the background research, like

• "Is there really a breed of sheep called Blackheads?" (No, there isn't, but there's a breed called Scottish Blackfaces - lovely!)
• "What the heck does the borametz (barometz???) in the British Museum look like?" (I swear I stumbled across a pic some months ago. Now, of course, said pic has vanished into cyber-nirvana.)
• "Is a Sicilian Dragon really called a Sicilian Dragon in English?" (Yes, apparently, it is.)
• "Does every guest bedroom also have a separate dressing room?" (Uhm ... no clue.)
• "Did (filthy rich) people in the Regency already have greenhouses in their gardens where they could grow veggies and flowers in winter?" (Yes, they had! Hurray!)

And as if this weren't bad enough, I've also reached that stage where I think I'm surely the worst writer EVER! Worse even than the dinosaurs had they been able to type on a keyboard! Such a horrible writer actually, that upon reading the first page of my manuscript, my agent and editor will both move to another city, change their names, and will pretend not to know me should we meet by chance at the next RWA conference. OR they will hide behind the nearest potted plant. OR they will simply run away screaming.

Oh yes. I absolutely love deadlines. They make for a jolly good writing time! *g*