Cannonball

         Well, it’s February, closing in on Valentine’s Day, and that means romance novel bashing is going to happen more often than usual. Good enough reason to cannonball back into the blogging waters, because my waters are boiling. Tee hee, look at all that ladyporn, giving women unrealistic expectations of real life, those books are all the same, blah blah blah, haw haw, shake head at the stupid love-deprived women who read and write them, so silly, so sad, so…stop. Okay? Stop.

          It’s not cute, it’s not funny, and it doesn’t make the detractors look smarter. I listened to a radio segment on this topic today, same old same old, and, when combined with recent blog posts by writer friend E. Catherine Tobler, it produced this.
There’s been buzz lately in some science fiction and fantasy circles, over the treatment and depiction of women, which I think is an interesting point. Since I write and read romance, which is largely (but not entirely) written and read by women, our numbers skew in the other direction, regarding gender, but there is a common ground here. I’m talking women. We have the right to write and read whatever we please, and it doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks. Still, some people don’t seem to get that, and that puzzles me. It puzzles me a lot.

         Every genre has conventions. Every one. So why is it worthy of derision when the whole point of the story is a woman getting what she wants out of life? Romance is the genre where the woman always wins. She selects a life partner who is faithful to and proud of her, who supports her, respects her and if he’s not actually helping her to achieve her goals, he’s shaking pompoms from the bleachers and cheering her on. He’s her equal partner, be he duke, cowboy, CEO, small town farmer, RN, or what-have-you.

        I’ve heard the “oh, romances are all the same” argument since I was sneaking books from my mother’s nightstand. It wasn’t true then, and it isn’t true now. So, historicals are the same as contemporaries, as fantasy or futuristic, or romantic suspense, erotic as inspirational, as YA, as traditional Regencies, as westerns, as category, as single title, as serials and anthologies and multiple author continuities? New subgenres are emerging constantly, veteran ones declared dead but then coming back in a slightly different form, to go do their magnificent thing all over again in a brand new way. I love the vibrant feel of this genre, my genre, and no, I don’t think the books are all the same. Read a few and that becomes plain.

        Neither are the people attached to these stories all the same. Mostly women? Yes, and there is nothing at all wrong with that. Some are stay at home parents or caregivers. Some are military personnel, pilots, scientists, clergy of various faiths, teachers, executives, lawyers, retail workers, businesspeople, artists, librarians, academics, holders of GEDs and PhDs. Married, happily or otherwise, single, happily or otherwise, and every point on the spectrum in between. What we do have in common is the love of a good story, that of two people who overcome obstacles and choose to stick together for life. Don’t see what’s stupid or cringeworthy there.

       The books are all porn? No. Porn is porn. Romance novels are about the emotional journey of two characters. This may include opening the bedroom door, to small or great degree, or it may include closing it entirely. I’ve read very effective romances all along the spectrum from inspirational to erotic romances. Sex is a part of most romantic relationships, and that doesn’t only mean explicit depictions of the actual act. It’s the unique appeal of one person to the other, the “can’t take my eyes off him/her” that makes this person somehow different from all other potential mates. It’s different for every couple, because we’re talking individuals here, and how they go from two “me’s” to one “we.”

         I don’t understand this bashing. I probably won’t, and most likely, most of the bashers don’t care what I think. They’ve chortled, slapped each other on the back and moved on to something more worthy, whatever that might be. They’ll be back at some future opportunity, and when they are, they’ll probably miss, once again, the real point of such articles. They provide opportunity for romance readers and writers to have a good laugh, blow off some steam and then go back to reading and writing some awesome books.

I’ll close with this: when I run into a romance basher in person, I ask them which books they read that gave them that impression. Not heard about, not saw the covers of, not read a snippet of the screen of a stranger’s Kindle on public transportation. Read. If the answer is none, they don’t know what they’re talking about, do they? If the answer is “none, could you recommend some?” then a new adventure is about to begin.

Ten Romance Novels That Have Stuck With Me, Part the First

Have you seen the "Ten Books That Have Stuck With Me" meme? I knew as soon as I saw that one that I'd have to do it, and filling in the slots was pretty easy, especially when the instructions were to not put too much thought into the process. This was what I came up with, in short order:

Skye O'Malley by Bertrice Small

Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews

Black Beauty by Anna Sewell

Wideacre by Philippa Gregory

Sword Dancer by Jennifer Roberson

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

Long Way Down by Nick Hornby

Lovesong by Valerie Sherwood

Broken Wing by Judith James

Giving this a quick once-over, I see three genre romances (Skye O'Malley, Lovesong, Broken Wing,) three historical novels (Wideacre, Brideshead Revisited, Remains of the Day,) one horror (Flowers in the Attic,) one fantasy (Sword Dancer,) one children's book, (Black Beauty) and one piece of contemporary fiction (Long Way Down.) Since Black Beauty has a historical setting, we can give that credit for the historical category as well. Interesting spread there, everything with a deep emotional core - I know each book has made me cry at least once, and never fear, I like crying over an emotional scene- but I immediately started thinking of a list comprised only of my genre of choice, historical romance?



Though I did repeat authors on this second list, I purposely chose not to repeat books. Picking only ten was more difficult with the narrower focus, and made me think of narrowing the focus even farther, which I will likely do at a later date. For now, let's take in the list itself:

Ten Historical Romance Novels That Have Stuck With Me:

1. The Kadin by Bertrice Small

2. The Velvet Promise by Jude Deveraux

3. Bold Breathless Love by Valerie Sherwood

4. Libertine’s Kiss by Judith James

5. Daughters of the South Wind by Aola Vandergriff

6. Tapestry by Karen Ranney

7. A Love So Bold by Annelise Kamada

8. A Rose in Winter by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

9. Wild Bells to the Wild Sky by Laurie McBain

10. Call Back the Dream by Barbara Hazard



What are your top ten most enduring historical romances?

Lynn Viehl Followup and Prize Winner

Happy Saturday, mes amis, and thanks to all who shared in our wonderful visit with Lynn Viehl.

For the readers who asked which of Lynn's free reads would be a good starting point,Lynn offers the following:

I had a wonderful time chatting with your readers; thanks for having me as a guest.

I also love new readers; it's the best part of getting out and about in the online writer community. For someone who is completely new to my work I usually recommend my novella Dark of Heart:

https://docs.google.com/file/d/0BzylBQC3SyqoZTM5OWZjNjMtMWM2NS00ZDNjLTk4ZWQtOWU1ZTA2ZGY4ZjY3/edit?usp=sharing

Dark of heart is YA and G-rated, so it's good for all ages, and I think it's a decent example of my writing style in general. It is 168 pages, however, so it's a bit of a hefty read for a freebie.

If the reader would prefer to try something shorter, then I recommend my short story Red Branch:

https://docs.google.com/file/d/0BzylBQC3SyqoY2VmYTI5ZTQtNzFjMi00NGIxLWE0M2MtMGU4MWFiMGVhNTY5/edit?usp=sharing)

That one is high fantasy, PG-13 rated but only 25 pages long. It's been my readers' favorite ever since I wrote it.

Thanks again, Lynn. It was my pleasure having you; come back anytime.

Now, for the lucky winner of Lynne's gorgeous prize pack. Let's take a moment to look at the pretties one more time while we imagine a drumroll. The prize goes to...

ANDERYN!!!

Anderyn, contact me at annacbowling@gmail.com so we can get your prize headed your way.

Everyone, what are we reading this weekend?

Happy Dance Friday #115 - Rita Hayworth, the Bee Gees and a snow day in March

Last night, I stayed up far too late, talking books with a reader friend :waves hi to Carolina: and woke to a gorgeous sight. More than the single inch of snow we'd been forecast, everything was blanketed under a stunning blanket of white, bare tree branches blanketed, and even more drifting down. It's still coming. DH ambled out of the kitchen, asking if anybody wanted French toast and bacon. As it turns out, it was cinnamon French toast, which makes it even better. That made it official. Snow day.

Our household contains only adults, and DH still had to go in, but it still counts. Still counts as well even though I'm heading down to the coffee house for a writing session, because that's what I want to do. So what's the difference? By my standards, a lifting of the normal restritions or regulations. The chance to breathe and step back from the every day and ask what would be the best thing for this moment. What would give pleasure? What would get us ready for the return to normal life, stronger, more rested and refreshed?

For me, the answer was immediate. I stayed in my pajamaas slightly longer than usual, because eating surprise cinnamon French toast should not be done while wearing regular clothes. My brain meandered back to the conversation of the night before, of the many things I love about historical romance; the mental journey to another time and place, the chance to climb in the skins of hero and heroine and live not only through the time but through the love story. Which is a good place for a writer of historical romance to be.

Which is also a good place for a happy dance. Bee Gees make me happy and heroines who make history make me happy, so finding the two mushed together is even more fitting for the specialness of a snow day.



What makes a snow day or other found day extra special for you?

Welcome, Scottish Seduction Blog Tour

What's better than having one historical romance author come to one's cyber home to chat? Having two. I'm delighted to welcome Sue-Ellen Welfonder and Margaret Mallory. I first discovered Sue-Ellen's books through her wonderful blog, Tartan Ink. Anyone who knows me can tell there's no way I could resist a series titled Return of the Highlanders, which has firmly made me a reader of Margaret's books as well. Both have brand new releases in ongoing series: Sue-Ellen's Seduction of a Highland Warrior brings readers back to the Glen of Many Legends, while readers of Margaret's series finally get Connor's story in The Cheiftain. Both books combine history, romance, family ties, and a touch of magic. Give the same ingredients to two talented chefs, and you'll get two different and delicious dishes. It's the same with writers. How does that play out here? Read on.

Sue-Ellen Welfonder

SEW: It’s a pleasure to be here to celebrate Seduction of a Highland Warrior’s recent release. Must say, I adore the title of this blog. It’s clever, smile-inducing, and original.

TWWN: Thanks, Sue-Ellen. We're happy to have you here. What draws you to Scottish historical romance?

SEW: On a personal level, I have a Hebridean/Highland family background and so was raised to appreciate that heritage. I’ve also been traveling to Scotland all my life, so loving Scotland and its past is very much a part of my world and always has been. I’m also keenly interested in medieval history and archaeology. These were my interests before I ever considered writing and will remain so when I no longer write.

In more general terms, I appreciate the possibilities offered by medieval Scotland as a setting and time period for romance. There’s the magnificent landscape, a proud and fearless people, a colorful and turbulent past, many layers of fascinating history and an irresistible blend of cultures (Pictish, Celtic, Pagan, Viking, etc). The clan feuds offer a wealth of plot possibilities. I also love Highland magic, the legend and lore, myth and superstition that abounded in medieval Scotland. And that, to a degree, remains. My grandmother had the sight, for example. My first book, Devil In A Kilt, featured a heroine gifted with the sight and so have some of my other titles. I enjoy writing characters with such extraordinary talents or weaving in other magical threads. As such beliefs were an integral part of Highland Scotland in these centuries, using such elements is natural and fitting. And a pleasure for me as I find every aspect of ‘Highland magic’ fascinating. I also collect medieval weaponry and love studying medieval warfare. I really enjoy writing medieval battle scenes. So my genre reflects by personal background and interests.

TWWN: What are the best and most challenging aspects of writing connected books?

SEW: I love writing connected books. Because I enjoy writing series/connected stories so much, I don’t see any part of the process as challenging. One thing I do watch is to end a series before beloved main characters grow old. It’s fun to write stories for the children of the original hero and heroine. But I do not want to write the first protagonists as grandparents. That’s why I ended my popular MacKenzie series when I did. Devil In A Kilt’s hero, Duncan, is still well-loved by my readers. I don’t want him hobbling about as a bent old man. Not going to happen.

What I love most about connected books is revisiting beloved characters and settings. In the writing of a book, the story comes to life and the characters soon feel like living, breathing people. It’s always a pleasure to work with them again. To see what they’re up to after an earlier book has ended. I know from my readers that most of them also enjoy seeing the characters again. As noted above, you just have to know when to move on. But even then, I like adding ‘magical touch-points’ to new series. Such as Devorgilla, the well-meaning yet meddlesome cailleach in my MacKenzie series. She makes cameo appearances in other series and whenever she does, I always hear from readers who tell me they loved seeing her on the page. Frankly, she is so real, I worry she’d hex me if I didn’t let her dip a toe in the ink now and again.

TWWN: Surprise! You have time traveled to the past -the day before you wrote the first page of your first novel. You may speak only one sentence to your past self. What is it?

SEW: Beware, here be (deadline) dragons.

Thank you so much for inviting me here today. It’s been fun. And I do adore the name of this blog.

Highland Blessings!
Sue-Ellen Welfonder
www.welfonder.com

Thanks much, Sue-Ellen, and for what it's worth, Duncan would be an awesome senior gent.

Margaret Mallory

TWWN: What draws you to Scottish historical romance?

MM: I love history, and I have a serious weakness for stories involving castles and heroes who swing swords. I suspect I’m drawn to the British Isles, in particular, because of my Scottish-Irish-English heritage.

TWWN: What are the best and most challenging aspects of writing connected books?

MM: The most challenging aspect of writing this particular series was having four heroes who were the same age and who were all in each other’s books. Each needed to be heroic, yet distinct. I had to work to make each hero stand out as an individual, particularly when all four were in a scene, without slowing the pace with extra description. And, being heroes in their prime, naturally these guys wanted to take over each other’s books!

I’ve had tremendous positive feedback from readers about the “bro-mance” among my four Highland warriors.
So, despite the challenge, I am really glad I stuck with my original vision of these four heroes who’ve been close friends since they could walk.


TWWN: Surprise! You have time traveled to the past -the day before you wrote the first page of your first novel. You may speak only one sentence to your past self. What is it?

MM: I know you got a lot of satisfaction from working for good causes—improving care for the elderly and services for abused and neglected kids—but I wish you’d quit a couple of years sooner to write romance novels.

Thanks, Margaret. I'm glad you stuck with the original vision, too.

Readers, what's your favorite aspect of a good Scottish romance? Where should a new reader start with either of these writers? Drop a comment and make some noise.

Here comes that feeling again...

Last night, I stayed up far past my bedtime, reading Lady of the Glen by Jennifer Roberson. This is my first historical my Ms. Roberson, though her romantic fantasy Sword Dancer series has long been a favorite of mine. I blogged about it for Heroes and Heartbreakers here.

Lady of the Glen isn't an easy book, and that's exactly what kept me reading.

Most of my favorite books aren't easy stories, and the same thing applies in writing. Story in, story out. Even if it's late. Especially when it's late. Those times when getting to the end of the story is more important than sleep, that's what I want, both as a reader and a writer.

For me, it's not enough to say "it was night." I want to feel the cool wind on my cheek, breathe the stillness of the night air, inch my way along in the inky blackness using only memory and the shapes that I can pick out in the shadows. Since my genre of choice is romance, it's a given that the two lovers are going to have their happily ever after at the end of the story, but if that HEA comes at great cost, even better.

Setting that book down at last, after closing the cover and my tired eyes, I was satisfied with Cat and Dair's happily ever after, sad at how much it cost them, and angry that my time with them was over. No, I don't want a sequel, spinoff or continuation. The story was complete in itself, and I wouldn't ask it to be anything else. I was satisfied knowing that, although I have to give the library back its copy, mine is still safely snuggled in its cardboard box in the storage unit, along with other books. In time, it will find its way onto my shelves in our new home. Said shelves are still in flux as we continue to settle in, but being able to touch a book that I missed. I'd packed my copy before reading it, and had a strong yearning for it when I saw the library's copy on their shelves.

I have other library books in my TBR stack, and purchased books and ebooks in two different formats, so it's not that I don't have anything to read. It's that I lived in that world for the time it took me to read Cat and Dair's story, and I'm going to need to acclimate some. Then I'll be ready to read something else. By tonight, I'll be engrossed in something from the TBR stack, and I'll let that story flow into me and feed my own story hamster.

I can feel that fire I've missed, the one that got dampened. Reading. Writing. The one feeds the other. Talking, too, about both, because that's how I roll. Feel free to chime in at any time.

Have you ever missed a book when you finished reading it?

2012/2013 - and so it begins

1/14/2013

Made three attempts to blog today, and deleted them all. I do want to commit to a solid week of blogging to start the year as I mean to go on. Hence this.

Thanks to Barbara Samuels' blog entries on the fear and joy of writing, I'm getting a much better handle on why 2012 was not my best or favorite writing year, but we have a brand new year started, and that's good for a fresh start. Which makes this the right time do commit myself to another whole week of blogging.

There are a few reasons for doing this. One, it gets me on the right path (as in picture above). At the keyboard every day, getting something that's in my head out for public consumption. Two, I'm a talker. Staying quiet isn't natural for me, and the longer I am, the harder it is to climb out of it. Three, enough days of forcing myself to blabber about nothing, I will bore myself and have to talk about something interesting. Stories are interesting.

Our new home is within walking distance of two libraries. Maybe three if we're feeling adventurous. We've found both a small independent bookstore (with a really really really good romance section even though it's only one shelf - kudos to the buyer for excellent choices) and a splendidly sprawling (David-the-barista from our local coffee shop has me doing his vocabulary thing these days. I'm not complaining) Barnes and Noble.

I will admit to going on what housemate Linda and I long ago named "library orgies." No, not that kind. In family parlance, it means to go to more than one library in one day and take out whatever strikes one's fancy. Which means that I have a nice TBR stack next to my bed. At present, I count three library books -no, four, but one is a nonfiction book on art journaling, not a novel- and four newly purchased paperbacks on the "read me next" shelf. My nightstand also holds an ARC of a novel by two favorite authors. My Kindle app on my laptop has been a busy thing lately, as is the ereader that lives in my purse (and dearly needs a charge tonight.) However many books I have, I need more, because of that story hunger. After a dismal 2012, it has me again. Or I have it. It's hard to tell sometimes.

There's one more reason for this week of blogging. Fear. What if I'm not doing it right? What if I don't have what it takes? What if I've been kidding myself all this time and should shut up and go away because nobody really cares anyway? What if....fill in the blank with anything that seems appropriate. Fear, for me, can be crippling, and from my perspective, the only way out is through. So, how best to conquer fear of writing? By writing. No, a blog entry is not a novel, but it's putting the tush in the chair and the fingers on the keyboard and sending something out into the world.

So. This is a week of blogging. Some entries may ramble. Some entries may stink like that hunk of cheese that got trapped between the sofa cushions the same week the not yet paper trained puppy decided that sofa was his. (Not that this ever happened to me, because it hasn't, but DH once stashed a pastrami sandwich in my purse and didn't tell me, which resulted in me taking it to work that night and not finding it until um, eating it was no longer a good idea.) Some may actually make some sense, and some may surprise even me, but they will be written. So far, so good.

Holding on and Letting go

Moving week is finally here. By this time next week, we'll be ensconced in our new home, taking stuff out of the boxes we're filling now. The picture above is one load of donations to a friend's library sale. A lot of these books came from library sales to begin with, and more than a few of them are returning to the sale from whence they came.

Though our apartment is a good size, there's no way to bring all of the books. For me, moving the books is what makes the move real. Books are the first thing down and first thing up (second, if one counts bookcases) if I have any say in the matter, and the process of deciding what to bring and what to release into the wild is an adventure all on its own. Some decisions are easy. Research books purchased for a project that is now long completed, interests that have changed, or duplicate copies are like that. Others are trickier. Have I read that? Am I going to read it? Really? If read, will I reread it? Can I get rid of the paper version and replace it with electronic?

I've fished more than one rescued book out of the DH's discard pile because he does not understand the neccessity of an obscure title, but I leave his picks of his own stuff alone. There are books I can't part with, because they have fused with me and it would be like excising a body part and sending it off into the unknown. Others have had their time with me and I like imagining someone else idly browsing the romance section of the sale and finding an unexpected treasure. They don't know it yet, but they have just touched their favorite book for the first time. Kind of exciting there.

Other books will go into the storage unit, either for a short time or until we make our next and hopefully final move. The rest, though, the special ones, those we count worth the trouble of packing and hauling down the stairs, onto the van, out of the van, up the stairs and into their eventual homes on whatever bookcases will fit.

When I last moved out of a college dorm room, many, many years ago, I divided my books into books I would be devastated if I lost and books whose absence I could bear. It hasn't become any easier to move, but the criteria is still the same. Thankfully, for those that are staying with me, it's only a short parting. I'll see them again in the new place.

How do you decide what books make the move with you?

Of Unexpected Intermissions, Getting Back on the Metaphorical Horse and Other Oddments

Life happens. I could leave this entry at that. Full disclosure: part of me would like to. I'm two dances behind on what should have been a week-long series of posts, behind two whole episodes of SYTYCD, and wth happened to Saturday at the Movies? Plus all of those writing and reading posts that need to be up here, yeah, behind on those.


So why not throw hands up in air, say I'm too far gone to fix things and slink away (preferably to a gallon of Cherry Garcia and a rewatch of Moonlight?) I've thought about that, too. Would I like some cheese with my whine? Yes, I would, thank you; a nice Swiss, with some lean ham, on rye, with mustard, toasted the tiniest tad, would be great. Yes, life happens to everybody, she's been this route before, and may be this way again. That's part of the territory. The trick is how to respond to it.

Have I found the perfect solution? Not yet. Though I will be teaching an online workshop, Save the Writer, Save the Book, with longtime writing friend, Melva Michaelian, in October. More on that later. Right now, the important thing is to get this post up because A) it's on my list, B) I could use the advice myself, and C) to quote my mother, the more you do, the more you'll want to do.

Saying "I'm tired" is not a sign of weakness. It's a statement of fact. Look at it this way; how far could you drive the best car in the world, without refilling the tank? Those of us who write and read historical romance know that no matter how eager our characters are to get from point A to point B, they are going to have to stop and change horses because the beasties can only take so much. Plus it affords the opportunity for inn scenes. I like inn scenes.

I also like historical romance. No, scratch that. I love it, and making sure I take in things I love is essential to my well being as a writer and a person. Which is why, a couple days ago, in the midst of a morning where my attention was needed here, there and everywhere (or so it seemed) I hunkered down on the couch with an afghan (yay for cool mornings) and read a chapter of The Perfect Scandal by Delilah Marvelle. Best thing I could have done for myself at the moment. I am now carrying it in my purse because I am one chapter away from the end and reading feels good, and if I have to shut myself in a public bathroom stall to get my dose during today's multitude of errands, so be it.

How do you find time to nurture your creative self when life happens?

Happy Dance Friday #108a - SYTYCD Mia Michaels week 1/8

Well.

Ahem.

You may have noted the "a" at the end of the post number, and there's a reason for that. The reason being that my birthday and Christmas seem to have come early this year and at the same time, with the first ever SYTYCD episode devoted to one choreographer, Mia Michaels, who happens to be my favorite contemporary choreographer (Travis Wall a close second, but more on him later.) Those who also read the Saturday at the Movies posts know that I like to compare remakes to the original, (as in post #39, Dueling Alfies) so when the top fourteen dancers get to recreate some of Mia Michaels' classic routines, there is only one thing this blogger can do.

Individual recaps. Yes, you read it right. This is a seven part Happy Dance Friday. Considering that real life things are happening at Stately Bowling Manor, Sunday is double booked (most likely) with committments, and other things are on Schroedinger's schedule (must plan to both do X and not do X until I know which way things go) more than usual, this does pose a challenge, but I think it's worth it. I tried condensing things into a single post and it couldn't be done.

So. We'll start with the opening group number. Nigel called this the Fifty Shades of Grey dance. I didn't make that connection, but then again, I haven't read the book (bailed out of the Masters of the Universe version at chapter five, for full disclosure)but if Nigel Lythgoe ever wants to name one of my titles on national TV, he can apply it to any choreography he wants. Mia looked a bit befuddled by the connection, so I'm guessing it's not on her nightstand.

I'm not familiar with Active Child or "Hanging On," but I know Mia Michaels always provides something special, so when I saw the combination of formalwear, birdcage skirts, the black/white/red color scheme, and cables coming from the ceiling, I knew we were going to see something out of the ordinary. Then we have flying dancers, roses flung about, amazing music, and it's bliss. YouTube is not liking me at the moment, and I'm getting long-winded, so clip posted by IdolXFactor2, here:



Best viewed fullscreen, because there is so much going on. I'm going to have to view this one a couple more times before I can comment more, but it definitely made me sit up and take notice, and whetted my appetite for what's to come.

How about you, dance fans? Are single-themed weeks a good idea for SYTYCD? If you could get Mia Michaels to choreograph any dancers to any music what would you pick?

Writing for Fun

Writing for fun has been on my mind a lot lately, because real life has taken one of those turns that can best be described as "aaaahhhhhhh." The robot uprising has begun within my own personal electronics as multiple devices decided to go belly up or seriously wonky at the same time (Linda, Kara, E and la, you have saved my patoot as well as my sanity) and at least one is one replacement part away from having more than I'd like in common with Frankenstein's monster.

Which goes a long way to explain my recent absence here. A beloved uncle passed, our family is looking at a long anticipated interstate move that may happen in quick fashion, a heat wave and summer cold do not cancel each other out, and I am using the Not at Nationals tag here, as, despite my best intentions, blogging about not being at Nationals did not happen during the course of the actual gathering. Nope, did not go this year, but I will make it at least once. :shakes fist at monitor:

So, writing for fun relates to this how? I will admit that it's easy to get distracted and off on bunny trails. I will admit that those of us pursuing a career in commercial fiction do need to pay some attention to market trends, the state of the industry, the state of the genre, and nobody but me is going to write my book, same as nobody but you is going to write yours. A page a day is a book in a year and butt in chair, fingers in keyboard, yes, all of that is true. Writing is a business and those of us who are in it have to do the work.

At the same time, where is the love? I've thought back recently to those afternoons of cobbling together a desk out of tv trays and letting the story spill out of me because I knew it, I lived it, and the characters had to get out of my head and onto the page. (Though in full disclosure, do they really leave?) Right now, I'm overhauling a ms I've already written...and rewritten. It's natural in such endeavors to get bogged down with the "do I have to go over this again?" refrain. Who cares? I know how it turns out, so good enough and on to the next? Well, no. If it were, I wouldn't be writing.

While I'm doing the grownup writer thing by putting butt in chair and fingers on keyboard/pen in hand/chalk on cave wall (refer to robot uprising mentioned above)there's still a need for fun to keep the spark alive. Sort of a dating your spouse thing. In real life, DH knows that ordering takeout and suggesting trips to Barnes and Noble keep him in my good graces, especially when in full on writer crank. It's the same in writing. I've found a need to play in the mist, let characters have their way with me, perhaps toss around with a few like-minded souls. Not sure what track this will take, but knowing the need is halfway to fulfilling it, right?

Have you ever written only for fun? What's your favorite creative playground?

Reading Rituals

When I first started going to used bookstores as a real, grown up adult, I had a ritual. First, go to store, trade in old books, comb shelves for undiscovered treasures. Note, this was before the internet, so that meant one had to subscribe to author newsletters by snail mail, keep track of Romantic Times magazine (before it was RT Book Reviews) as well as word of mouth, and keeping written lists. Yeah. Old school. I get the niggle that I might have blogged about this before, but it's a Monday after an odd weekend after an odd week, so I'm not going to stress over that.

Once books were selected and purchased, that was time for the frozen yogurt place and the next stage of my ritual. I would lay out all the books on the table, and arrange them in chronological order, from closest to ancient times to closest to modern day. So, if I’d purchased an Edwardian, a Tudor, a Georgian and a Medieval, I would read them as such: Medieval, Tudor, Georgian, Edwardian. Knowing the order of my reading was Very Important, so this step of the ritual could not be skipped. (Picture above is thumbnail of random, unsorted TBR shelf. Click to embiggen.)

After determining order, then the reading could begin, free of the “what do I read first” question. That’s already decided, and the others would come in time. When I’d read through everything in that haul, I’d get to come back to the bookstore. Less complicated times, for sure.

I haven’t done the arrange-by-time-period thing lately. The above ritual was from a time when connected books were not the norm, and finding a variety of settings could be an easier task. Stacking three or four books with the same setting doesn’t provide the same sort of satisfaction and my ereader can sort books by author or by title, but not by setting. Maybe a fancier model could do that, so I’ll have hope for the future.

It’s different choosing books now. I’ve been reading in the historical romance genre for some time, and no plans to change that. Genre-wise, I’m home, and I’m happy. Genres, though, are always in flux. Ebooks did not exist in those days, linked books were not yet the norm, and the abovementioned Edwardian, Tudor, Georgian and Medieval? They might all be on the backlist of the same author. I didn’t attend RWA chapter meetings or conferences, so the chance of coming home from such outings with free books was less than nil, I knew a grand total of one author personally, and though I was working on a historical romance manuscript, I had not finished or sold.

Thinking of all this today, since it’s been an odd week, heat wave requiring much time hopping from air conditioned place to air conditioned place, and thinking wistfully of a quiet place to read, uninterrupted. Did I mention that these UBS trips were always done solo? When it’s me, the books and the frozen yogurt, it’s serious business.

What about you, dear readers? Do you have any rituals for reading newly acquired books? Print before electronic? The other way around? All genre X and then genre Y? Reach into shopping bag with eyes closed? Know of a good place for frozen yogurt? Soft serve is also acceptable.

Summer 2012 Default Read - Marsha Canham

The idea of a summer default read started a couple years back for me, in the midst of yet another reading slump. Despite having enough books, both to read and to re-read (and this was before I had an ereader, mind you) to keep me quite busy during that three month stretch of chasing air conditioning and surrendering the diurnal norm (aka too hot to do anything in the daytime) but once again, water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink (er, read.)

Something had to change. I'd come into posession, thanks to UBS and library sales, of the entirety of Mary Jo Putney's Fallen Angels book and figured reading through those would solve the what do I read next problem, so I dove in. That worked well enough, so I set the same goal of a default read for the next year, choosing Hannah Howell's Murray family historicals. As luck would have it, I didn't need to go to default much, so still have several of those yet to read.

Since it’s always a good idea to have a Plan B, the default read continues. This year’s choice was easy. Last year, when catsitting for two friends who live a longish walk apart when one is sun and heat sensitive, as I am, I was the proud new owner of a Sony ereader and Marsha Canham’s Robin Hood Trilogy. You can see where this is going. I devoured all three books, largely over the course of the walks at sunrise and sunset. Same catsitting gigs happened at the same time of year this year, so of course it was time for the tradition to continue. I inhaled a reread of Pale Moon Rider, and then moved on to begin a reread of Across A Moonlit Sea, the first installment of the Pirate Wolf duet, which is now a trilogy and growing. Only natural that after that, I plan on a reread of The Iron Rose, and then first time read of The Following Sea.

Which reminds me that I've only read the first two of her Scottish trilogy, A Pride of Lions and Blood of Roses...or did I manage to get to Blood of Roses, because it was at one time harder than hard to get? Not to mention her lone western, Under the Desert Moon, or her riverboat book Straight For the Heart and of course rereads of classic favorites like The Wind and The Sea and then there are still more to come. Will this be the year I don't get out of default mode?

Then again, there are so many other good books coming out from Cecilia Grant, Elizabeth Hoyt, and others, maybe the question should be, do I really need sleep?

I Had A Title For This

While my Second Life avatar ponders this majestic garden (click picture to embiggen) I ponder the state of the afteroon. Ninety-two degrees, possible thundershowers according to AOL weather, but the sun is blazing. DH is also home and a day sleeper on days off after a busy shift, so to keep things quiet for him and to keep pale-skinned and heat-sensitive me from roasting, I seek out air conditioned venues on such afternoons.

I had a blog topic all ready to go when I opened this window, and it made sense at the time. It even tied into the choice of picture, but can I remember it now? Not a bit of it. I'm going to blame the heat, or maybe the humidity. Whichever one of them is making my brain wonky, could they please stop? Either way, I'm going to go with what I've got. At the moment, that's A) refreshing the selections on my mp3 player, and B) writing. Also putting away the laundry, but nobody wants to hear about that.

My morning was spent mastering the table function in Word, no mean feat for someone who regularly transposes numbers. I had to, though, because getting all my characters' vital information in one place means I do not have to sift through different drafts of the ms in search of said information when I need to check one thing before moving forward. Also because I am a special, special princess and all the character charts I had seen left me feeling like A) I had never met the characters I know better than my own family, because I couldn't think of a single thing to put in the helpfully labelled blanks and B) they left off important things like the character's theme song.

So, with the help of a more-technically-savvy-than-me writer friend, I set about modifying the modified character study (see what she...um...they, as I don't know who originally used the term "study" instead of "chart" did there?) to a format that would tell me what I needed to know, at a glance. Instead of being a chore, this was -dare I say it?- fun. There aren't blanks to fill in, not as such, but expandable boxes that will adjust their size to contain whatever verbose answers to the questions I've posed. Big surprise, but I get talky even with myself. Creating the tables took me the entire morning, and I only got the chance to fill in a few of them for my hero, but it felt right. Best part? I get to do more of it tomorrow. Or later tonight if I can't resist the urge to slip away from sleeping DH and sneak off to the keyboard.

There's reading to be done as well, as I have both my ereader and a paper book crooking their fingers at me, and trust me, if I hadn't been able to snag a seat near an outlet, my nose would have been deep in a reread of Pale Moon Rider by Marsha Canham (delicious highwayman story.) I already know that her Pirate Wolf duet-that-is-now-a-trilogy will be next, but by the time I reminded myself that I needed to reread the first two books, I was already ten pages into Pale Moon Rider, and queue forms to the left, thanks.

Either that or my first read of The Sinner by Margaret Mallory, the second in her Return of the Highlanders series. I liked the first book, The Guardian, as sixteenth century Highlanders are relevant to my interests. Big plus that the author's website has discussion questions, which means I must now make friends read these books so we can yak.

Only problem with wanting to settle in for a good evening's read (aside from the aforementioned laundry needing to be put away) is that our abode is currently comfy chair-less. The couch and I have reached a state of detente, the bedside lamp is on indefinite hiatus until we can get the wiring checked and as much as I love my ergonomic desk chair, it is not my first choice for reading in at hours at a stretch. I can fake semicomfy by sticking a pillow behind my back on the carpeted landing, especially good if I can aim the standing fan directly at myself, and really, what does it matter, because when I'm in the story, other things take a back seat.

All of which brings me to the fact that I have not chosen a default read option for this summer. Hm. Must let thhat one sort itself out. More on that later. Since this feels long winded even for me, I'm going to wrap for now and say goodnight. Time to rest so I can attack the keyboard anew in the morning. What will you be doing?

Sunday Rambles: Of Missing Comments, Nick Hornby and Matters of Voice

First, comment issue should be fixed now. Though I have read about a bug with Blogger, I'm going to take responsibility with this one; I'd had my text and background colors too similar to see a difference. In short, the link was there, but invisible, which is not terribly helpful. Many thanks to those who clued me into the glitch.


To prove that I do actually read books, this weekend, I finished my a relisten (audiobook) of Juliet, Naked, by Nick Hornby. I first discovered Nick Hornby through the movie, About a Boy, which led me to track down the book, which led me to A Long Way Down and How To Be Good and his first YA novel, Slam. I have yet to read High Fidelity or his memoir, Fever Pitch, and while I'm aware of the US movie versions of both, I'm going to pass and hold out for the books.

I have my reasons. While there are Americans in some Hornby novels - JJ in A Long Way Down, Tucker from Juliet, Naked - Nick Hornby's voice is such an integral part of these stories that to see things transposed to a different continent and culture would be too much of a paradigm shift. Possibly along the lines of Gilbert Gottfried reading Fifty Shades of Grey. Which ties in with reason two, that, although I do love movies and TV, one of the very few things I like about the summer season is that the dearth of new programming does allow for more reading time.

Nick Hornby is not a romance novelist, though there are some memorable romances in some of his books, and Juliet, Naked, fits that bill. Not a romance, but a love story, and one which covers different sorts of love. Romantic love, successful and not, parental love, love of work (yes, really) and what makes me want to hug the author the hardest, love of fandom. No surprise, as his first work, Fever Pitch, is about his devotion to the Arsenal football team, and while the object of the fannish affection can change, fandom is fandom, and Nick Hornby gets it.

In Juliet, Naked, Duncan's devotion to reclusive former singer-songwriter Tucker Crow eclipses and eventually fractures his devotion to his longtime girlfriend, Annie, whose exception to this leads to her finding her own voice and the man behind the myth. Anyone who's been involved in internet fandom will understand the trolls, the bulletin boards, the fanon and that moment when what 'everybody knows' isn't what really is.

Given that one of my musical interests right now is tracking down acoustic versions of favorite songs, I'd love to be able to play the fictional albums, Juliet (in the story, an iconic 80's rock album) and Juliet, Naked, the acoustic demo version that fractures the fandom and the lives of our protagonists and the artist himself, and judge for myself which version I liked better. My best guess: apples and oranges. Both have their own merits, and when one, as Annie does in the book, goes straight to the source, the truth is somewhere in between. As a writer, I get that.

So. Rambling here, but on a Sunday afternoon, I'm allowed. What about you, faithful readers? Have you read Nick Hornby? What writers' voices ring true to you? Leave a comment, because now you can.

Reading Writing, Rambling and Real Life

DH is home and resting comfortably after a week long hospital stay. we're both looking forward to getting back to life as normal, but big life events change normal into new normal. The fact that it comes at the same time as spring cleaning makes it rather appropriate.

I've been itching to play with the look of this blog -as well as the content- for some time now, and this felt like the right time to jump in with both feet. Since I'm the type to learn new skills by diving in and splashing around, the blog may look rather, shall we say, interesting, for a few days. Colors, backgrounds, headers, more technical things like column width and spacing and all that other fun stuff is subject to change. You have been warned.

During the past week, despite all the stress of medical issues and disrupted routine, two things surprised me. First, I wrote. even though in such times, it's perfectly understandable to not write, I found that I couldn't not-write. Not that this meant I turned out reams and reams, but it did mean that even if I didn't get to boot Word, I hungered to get at my pretty pink legal pad and get down even a few lines.

The other thing was that, depsite my earlier frustrations of not having time to read, I devoured books during this week. I tackled a few books I'd been meaning to read for a while but hadn't gotten around to for one reason or another. Deepwood by Jennifer Roberson, the second book in her Karavans fantasy series; What Angels Fear, by C.S. Harris, the first book in her Sebastian St. Cyr historical mystery series are two of the most recent. While not in the romance genre, both authors have written romance (Ms. Roberson is the author of the Sword Dancer series, which, while marketed as fantasy, reads as romance. Romance readers will be more familiar with Ms. Harris' historical romances, written as Candace Proctor.)

Both books (and Deepwood's predecessor, Karavans) both told interesting stories, had that full imersion of setting that I love to read and write in historical romance, and there were romantic elements in both. Still, I missed the focus on the one on one romance, missed the HEA, and when I closed the covers after finishing both, what did I reach for first? Historical romance. Nothing like coming home, but more on that later.

For now, I'm taking a deep breath, recharging and then inthe morning, I have a workshop to tend to, pre-packing for the NECRWA conference this coming weekend, check on recovering hubby and then it's time to read a few good romances and write a few great ones.

How do real life disruptions affect your writing or reading?

Sicko

I have a cold, so if you have stock in Kleenex and/or any makers of cherry flavored cough drops, you're welcome for the sudden increase in value. DH has earned the title of Patient Zero, but he cooks and actually likes grocery shopping, so I can withstand a few germs. Good thing I like orange juice, especially when there's some pineapple mixed in.

One of my favorite parts of having a cold (yes, I have favorite parts of having a cold; quit looking at me like that or I'll breathe on you) is the ability to envelop myself in a big fluffy blankey and tackle the TBR bookcase without interruption. Only problem with that is that this particular cold seems to think that under a blankey = sleep. I beg to differ. Sure, sleep is good for the healing process, but so is reading. Plus I'm contrary.

I'm used to that label. I can't count the number of times I've been the only X in a room full of Ys. Fill in the gaps as you will. I love going to RWA chapter meetings because I need to breathe romance writer air. I've been in multigenre groups in the past and they don't have the same feel. I can tell when there are other romance writers in the room. Similarly, I've found I can tell when it's going to be a scouting trip to the bookstore rather than a buying one, and no, it's not always dictated by what's in the wallet.

On a recent bookstore jaunt, I came away with RT Book Reviews but no books. I'm okay with that. My TBR shelves are full, and there are several titles in my ereader that I have not yet devoured, and a light purchasing month is indeed easy on the expendable income, which Patient Zero appreciates. Not every writer -or publisher- can please every reader all of the time, and yes, there was at least one current release that I would have purchased if it had been on the shelves. Maybe it was snug in a box in the back room, and we'll find each other another time.

When CORW had a blind three page read at our most recent reading, the pages being read aloud without the author's name, there were still members who knew which entry was mine. I am glad that the reader, Zita Christian, did mention that this was from the prologue to a historical romance, because, well, it takes place in an orphanage in 1691 London, with a very shady business transaction. "Atmospheric" would be an accurate term to apply to this piece (quoting feedback here) and our young hero in the making is about to set off on a rather ah, arduous course...but things get better.

The villain of this particular book creeps me out, and I find that an essential facet in any villains I write. They are, after all, the heroes of their stories. I'm not talking about redeeming them and making them the hero in another book, but about their perspective on the world of the story. They don't think they're doing anything bad. They think they're the good guys, and it's that pesky hero and/or heroine who keeps interfering when they're trying to do what they have to do. Look through the bigbad's goggles for a minute, and it's the hero and/or heroine who's the villain.

I love getting inside the head of my bad guy (or girl) and, while I don't agree with their perspective, I do want to understand it. Who cares if they were the offspring of their father's mistress instead of his lawful wife? They were born first. The rebel leaders have it all wrong; Great Leader is going to keep everything under control, and there have to be some neccessary losses along the way. Even if they're an out and out sociopath (and those are some of my favorites to write) their view of the world has to make sense to them. Otherwise, it won't make sense to me as the writer, and it won't make sense to the reader.

Either that, or I'm a sicko in more ways than one. So what about you, faithful readers? What do you like best about writing your villains? Who was the most compelling villain you've ever read or written?

Different Drum

I'm blogging today at Heroes and Heartbreakers, on gritty western romances that might appeal to fans of Hell on Wheels, I've already blogged about the show itself here.

The western US isn't my favorite settting, nor is the nineteenth century as a whole. The Regency era dominates the market, but that's not my favorite, either. Not saying I haven't read books in those settings that haven't resonated with me, because I read for the story first, but plop me down anywhere between the end of the Wars of the Roses and the end of the American Revolution, and I'm a happy camper. Paranormals are huge, but not my cuppa as a whole, though this past summer, I delved deep into Anne Rice's Interview With a Vampire...but the sequel, The Vampire Lestat, starring the author's own favorite character, didn't hold my interest as much, and I have no plans to read the rest of the books in the series. I wouldn't call myself an overall zombie fan, but I've already blogged about my deep and abiding love for The Walking Dead in both televised and graphic novel formats.

Former Monkee, former politician and perpetually independent entertainer Michael Nesmith's signature song, above, seems to fit the bill for today's entry. I can't count how many times I've been the only X in a group of Ys, and I'm okay with that. I like being unique. Right here, my brain flashes back to when a friend I will call L and I were on one of our customary mall excursions. It happened to be October, and I noticed the Halloween store. I can still hear L's voice as I veered in that direction. "Your'e going in there to look for regular clothes, aren't you?" She was right. Hey, I like black. For years, I kept polish on my toes every day but never my fingers, but after figuring out why I had a hard time keeping polish on my fingers, I changed the way I did things and now I get to polish all the nails. It feels more "me."

This carries over to writing as well. Recently, I've found the best way to climb out of a slump is to remember what it it I love about writing. The feeling of picking out the right notebook - mine have to be pretty- and the right pen and leaving myself open to the characters that wanted to come out and play. When I pick up that notebook, my head is in that story and nowhere else. It's a good place, and a place where I need to spend more time. Ditto with my home office, which currently serves more of a storage function. Not stressing; process can be an organic thing, shaping around circumstance and the demands of daily life, but as long as the stories get told, as long as the movement continues from 'once upon a time' to 'happily ever after' I call it good.

How about you? What writing habit may seem odd to others but works for you?

Happy New Year Rambling, Part The Third

In the spirit of honesty and authenticity, I should probably mention that as I start this entry, I have no earthly idea what I'd originally meant to say here. Which means the new year is truly here, and back to work. Easily done, though I think I short circuited part of my brain by transcribing and tweaking seventeen pages on Tuesday.

Today's "voice" graphic is here because A) I vaguely remember that voice had something to do with the planned post that got nibbled to death by ducks, B) my brain fritzes out as soon as I open Photoshop Elements, and C) I can turn this around. Probably need more caffiene first, though.

Right now, I'm wrangling with convincing my laptop that it is signed into Rhapsody, and my brain that I do know how to do this writing thing. Or in today's case, re-writing. The scene I'm working on today wasn't there in the last draft of this ms, but it works better than what was there in the first draft, is truer to the characters, and heightens the impact of what is to happen next, so this is a good thing. I'll grumble and I'll wrangle and dear writer friends, you will probably hear me whine, but it's all part of the process. Life and love can both be problematic, so I can't see writing about either topic being without a few bumps in the road.

So. This voice thing. Ask a dozen writers what voice is and you might get a dozen different answers (or a dozen "I dunno" answers, possibly at the same time) but we know it when we encounter it. Give Meat Loaf, Weird Al, Luciano Pavarotti, Paul McCartney, Toby Keith and James Blunt the same song to sing, stick them all on the same playlist and hit shuffle. Doesn't matter if it's "Unchained Melody" or "I'm a Little Teapot" or anything else one might like. There's not the slightest chance that the playlist will sound like the same guy singing the same song. The words might be the same, the arrangements and melodies the same, but it's the unique voice of each singer that's going to make the difference. Not going to mistake Loretta Lynn for Lady Gaga, that's for sure, and if you bought an Osmonds CD and found HIM inside, (or vice versa) even if the song list were exactly the same, it would not be the same listening experience.

It's the same with writers. Bertrice Small and Lynn Kurland both write historical romance novels, for example. Ms. Small is known for her love scenes, while Ms. Kurland is known for leaving the bedroom door modestly closed. Personally, I'm somewhere in the middle, but I have read wonderful books by both, and by a wide variety of others. I've always known I was hardwired for historical romance; even as a wee little princess, I was drawn to fairy tales and anything that took place in a century prior to the 20th. Even then, I was predisposed to stories with a hero, a heroine, and a happily ever after, so it's no surprise where I landed as a writer. The harder the road the characters had to get to their HEA, the better, and I still hold to that today. A college friend, after reading my first ms (thankfully retired to the back of the closet, for the good of all mankind) dubbed it "How To Totally Screw Up A Character's Life in Five Hundred Pages or More." She wasn't that far off.

My favorite quote from the Dr. Who episode, "Blink," gets trotted out a lot when I talk about voice, but "sad is happy for deep people" resonates with me. If somebody's heart breaks, if the floor drops out from below one of my main characters, if they lose everything they've ever counted upon to get through their world, then there's a great story in how they get back from that. The lower the valley, the higher the mountaintop. I like the high drama, the heights and the depths, and as a favorite writing teacher used to tell us, if the stars are real, then the mud had better be as real. Bad things happen in life, even to good people, but it's possible to get through that and not only survive but triumph. That's going to come through in any story I tell, and I'm fine with that. Bring it on, New Year. I'm ready.

Happy New Year's Rambling, Part the Second

First workday of 2012, and I'd say so far so good, but I've already done two hard reboots, wrangled an annoying firewall program, beat a suspicious popup into submission and discovered the hard way that the new power cord is not as long as the dearly departed one. This last bit, I should mention, requires me to scoot the comfy chair in Panera closer to the fireplace.

This last bit is not at all a bad thing, as it allows me to be both productive and comfortable. Fireplaces are something one wants to be as close as possible to during January in the northeast US. Hot chocolate may have to happen while Panera is still offering their peppermint version. Or I can smuggle in a mini candy cane and stick one in the regular stuff. I'm resourceful that way.

I'm counting this year as starting off on the right foot, as I spent yesterday at not one but two New Year gatherings; afternoon at the open house/book swap, and then the traditional non-traditional New Year's meeting at house church. Got a seat by the fire there, too, so I think I'm on a roll. Two gatherings in one day is like handing Tigger a Red Bull and an espresso, then putting him on roller skates. This is how extroverts recharge, so after all that, I'm good to go. Didn't hurt that DH had ordered in Chinese food by the time I got home, either.

So. New year of reading and writing ahead. While it took me a while to get into Christmas mode, I'm finding that New Year mode has arrived right on time, and I plan on making the most of that. I've learned that when the decluttering bug hits me, I need to let it do its thing; already, it's uncovered the missing longhand pages of a novella I'd been wanting to finish. Very much looking forward to getting back in the groove with that as well as throwing myself into the polish of the current front burner ms and making sure I keep up an ongoing dialog with writer friends. If I know that I process thought by talking, then keeping mum is kind of silly in the light of what I know works for me.

Similarly, the taming of the out of control TBR mountain range lies in organization. I have a short list of what I actually want to read most next out of my recent acquistions, in my current art notebook. I'm keeping track of title, author, setting and links or lack thereof to other books. Already have one book read from that, so I'm feeling rather accomplished there. I read better when I have some plan or structure, so I think things look good for reading more in 2012. No record of what I actually read in 2011, as I didn't keep track, only sporadic notes on Goodreads, but if I have something down in the art book, it's locked in.

Structure is needed for me in the writing as well. Without some sort of roadmap, it feels like I'm driving blindfolded on the Autobahn and the resulting billion car pileup can be seen from space. This does not make me more or less creative than those who plunk down at the keyboard with no idea what the day will bring; it only makes me, well, me. Which is a perfectly fine thing to be. What is not perfectly fine to be is constantly looking over my shoulder to see what anybody else thinks I ought to be doing instead of what comes naturally.

Getting wordy once again (oh big surprise) so that calls for a part three tomorrow, as I am now at the end of my alloted rambling time and must pound the grownup professional writer keys. Rambling is part of what I do, so I'm not fighting it anymore, but it does need to stay within certain boundaries. I think that's best for all involved.