Author: annabowling

Christmas Story Questions

annabowling 2 Comments

When I was about four or five, I sat in the dining room of our two story Colonial house in Bedford, NY, with my parents and grandfather (Dad’s dad.) I was across from my grandfather, my mother at one end of the table, and my father at the other. I don’t remember the exact subject of adult conversation, but what I do remember is the knowledge hitting me that Christmas came every year, and I could count years from Christmas to Christmas. I don’t remember the exact time of year, though I want to say it was fall, which would fit. Christmas would not have been that far off, so my parents would have wanted to make plans. My grandfather would have returned to his home in Puebla, Mexico, long before then, so maybe they wanted to let him know what would be going on, even if he couldn’t be there.

Christmas Is still my favorite holiday. I will happily read Christmas romances at any time of year. I have been known to watch Christmas episodes of TV shows I do not otherwise watch, because Christmas. If there is a marathon of Christmas episodes, especially those from the 1970s, I am there. When I worked in a bookstore (for a brief span of time, two of them at once) I kept a special shelf for the Christmas anthologies that came out every year, so that customers could find the seasonal reads quickly, and took advantage of my employee discount to bring a good number of them home.

Now that we have the interweb, and e-books, I get alerts to new Christmas romances from favorite authors and new authors, often linked to ongoing story worlds. It’s not possible for me to be intimately familiar with all of those worlds, but put the word, “Christmas,” in the title or blurb, and I am at least going to take a look. For me, Christmas novellas are an important part of the holiday season. Double points if I can read said stories by the lights of the Christmas tree, cup of seasonally appropriate beverage (tea, cocoa, eggnog, cider) at hand. Triple points if there can be Christmas cookies or gingerbread involved.

I have never written a Christmas story. I don’t know why. Scratch that. I have never written a Christmas story for commercial fiction. I have written holiday themed fanworks, under other names, and I loved those. The chance to combine my favorite holidays, and favorite characters makes writing, which is already pretty good, even more fun, and it brings its own set of challenges as well.

The first thing that comes to mind is that several of the Christmas novellas I see these days are tied into established story worlds, complete with a handful of previous heroes and heroines, to show up for the holiday gathering, usually with adorable progeny in tow. Right now, I don’t have a continuing story world, apart from the eighteenth century as a whole, so An X Family Christmas is not happening until there is an X family. Same with Y Club Christmas, League of Z Chrismtas, and so on, which does not rule out the prospect of a Christmas story altogether, by any means.

Many of the stories in the countless anthologies I’ve gobbled are true standalones, two lovers, one ending, no sequels, prequels, or spinoffs, complete unto themselves. The historical era doesn’t matter much. Christmas is the great equalizer. Give me the customs of the time, toss in two people with emotional baggage, and crank said baggage up to eleven, because Christmas is also the great magnifier. All the tensions, hopes, regrets, possibilities for reconciliation, strangers who become friends, and possibly more; I love all that stuff.

Writing a Christmas-themed historical romance makes sense. I love Christmas. I love historical romance. I love writing. So why have I not written one of my own? No idea. Seriously, none. Maybe it’s time to fix that. Not for this year, because we’re nearly a third of the way through November, but that only means plenty of time to think about what sort of Christmas story I want to tell. Being a temporal nomad, without an established story world, the field is wide open. Medieval? Tudor? Restoration? Eighteenth century, on either side of the pond? Maybe skip ahead to the turn of the twentieth century once again? In Never Too Late, Amelia receives the journal in which she begins her tale as a Christmas present, and starts writing in it on New Year’s Day, so that’s kind of close.

This is the part of the post where I hear my dad’s voice saying that close only counts in something I can’t remember and horseshoes. In short, not technically a Christmas story, so I have some thinking to do. Good news is that I have plenty of time in which to do it, if I want to have my story ready for next year. Right now, I know nothing about it. I kind of like that. It’s a voyage of discovery, a reason to re-read some classic Christmas romances and look into some new ones, pick what I love best from Christmas stories that have gone before and see what I want to bring to the table.

Part of that process is picking the brains of others who love what I love. What kinds of Christmas romances do you like best? Any particular time period or trope or character type that will immediately get at least a second look? Have a favorite Christmas romance you’ve read, or perhaps written? Bring it on.

Gray Day Rambles

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As of last night, I have officially read all of Adam Silvera’s novels. On the one hand, this means I’m current. On the other hand, this also means that now I want more, and the next one isn’t out yet. Though Mr. Silvera’s books are contemporary YA, they have a lot of what I look for in historical romance. The focus on character and relationship, the vivid use of setting, distinct character voice, which melds with an author voice that fits the story world and subject matter. I want more of that. Since his next book doesn’t come out until next year, this means I need to read something else.

Thankfully, this is not a problem. I am only half joking when I say I could build a small house out of my TBR books and read my way out. Right now, I am also reading (re-reading) To Love Again, by Bertrice Small. Historical romance instead of contemporary YA this time, and the setting is Roman Britain, not modern NYC, but, here again, there is that full immersion in the story world, the clear author voice, and the knowledge that, when I pick up a novel by this author, I know what I am getting. Ms. Small is the author who got me into reading and writing historical romance in the first place, so re-reading one of her books is, in a way, like coming home. That’s a good place to come from, when one’s focus is on creating one’s own fiction.

Right now, I am at my desk, my Starbucks mug all but empty of my second cup of tea for the day. The weather is grey and intermittently rainy, which made for excellent foliage peeping as I walked through the park on my way to and from a doctor appointment this morning. My office assistant is on duty, currently catloafed on the small sliver of hardwood between my office door and the start of the carpet she refuses to cross.

061117SkyeOMalleyCat

My “A Working Day” playlist is playing through my earphones, and the blinds in my window are open enough to let me peer outside and get a glimpse of the beautiful greyness that awaits on the other side of the window. The Canada Geese and their mallard buddies are still in the lake in the park. The weather has been mild enough, this autumn, that they are sticking around, patrolling their waters, and giving some waterfowl-y side-eye to humans who interrupt their routine.

061117CanadaGeese

These are the autumn days I love the very, very best. Now that the days get darker, earlier, there’s an extra pep in my step. Apple cider (cold or hot, along with donuts made from/with same) and pumpkin pie are always welcome, as are steaming mugs of tea, hot apple pie and the requisite melty scoop of vanilla ice cream. This weather is perfect for walks around the lake, stories swirling in my head. Sometimes, these stories are the books that I’ve been reading, and, sometimes, they are my own.

Okay, always, they are my own. Even when reading someone else’s work, the repertory company in my head peers over my shoulder. This one wouldn’t have done that, this other one can’t wait to see a certain character’s choice bite them in the posterior a few chapters down the road, and, more often than not, my own imaginary friends work out some of their drama while I’m caught in the drama of others. Call it subliminal, or back-burner, or free-floating, all I know is that it works. If the worst thing is not knowing what comes next, then the best thing is immersing myself in the things that I love, and knowing that something is going to come out of that.

This morning, it was two walks through the park, with waterfowl, and a stranger’s Husky that had to give me a hand kiss before he would continue with his walk. It was the promise of Lapsang Souchong tea when I reached my destination, vivid word pictures swirling in my head. It was a few isolated drops of drizzle, the true deluge likely held at bay by the fact that I brought my vintage wood-handled umbrella with me, in case the sky did open. The sky did not open, apart from aforementioned drizzle, so the umbrella also remained closed. Better to have an umbrella and not need it, than need it and not have it. There’s also the fact that I like this umbrella. It’s kind of dapper. It’s plain black, but it has a presence, and it has a history, both things I like to have in my fiction.

If we had a fireplace in our apartment, I would stuff some firewood in there, maybe even toss in a pinecone or two, and scootch the antique rocking chair that I have loved as far back as I can remember, up to said fire, blanket in my lap, and pen and notebook in hand. Days like this are meant for stories, both the reading and the writing of them. For those of us who write for publication, that doesn’t mean we only write when the atmosphere is right; we wouldn’t have any books whatsoever if our favorite authors did that. Still, when these days come, they are all the more special for their rarity, a time to open the metaphorical windows of the writer brain and let the room fill, then put all of that on the page.

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Hello, November Edition

annabowling 2 Comments

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. The weather is gray and looks like rain, which makes Anty happy, and happy Anty means happy me, unless Anty is happy because the writing is going so well that she forgets to get up and give me food exactly when I want it, but don’t worry. I will remind her.  There is a lot to share this week, so I had better get to it.

First, as always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday, rounding out her paranormal month with a look at vampire romance. That post is here, and it looks like this:

BURlovebites

Anty was at Heroes and Heartbreakers twice this week, which I think is pretty good. First, because it was an odd-numbered episode of Outlander, Anty has her recap. It is here, and it looks like this:

HandHOutlandercremedementhe

Because this is a brand new month, Heroes and Heartbreakers rounded up their bloggers’ reads from the last month. Anty and other bloggers have their answers here. I did not take a picture of that, because of technical difficulties, but Anty always likes to see what other people read during the month that has passed, and she is always happy to share her favorite read as well.

Now is the part of the post where I bring everybody up to date on Anty’s reading challenge at Goodreads. Anty gets an A+++ for this week, because she is four books ahead of schedule, having read seventy-nine out of ninety books. Because this is also the start of a new month, it is also when I take a look at how Anty is doing on her goal of reading more historical romance.

As of today, thirty-six of the seventy-nine are historical romance. On this goal, Anty can do better. That is okay, because she is currently reading three historical romances. Anty’s reading tastes often go in waves, so I am sure this will even out by the end of the year. She will need forty-five historical romances to make her goal of reading at least half historical romance this year. All four of the books she read last week were YA, and her reviews are here:

GReverythingeverything

Everything Everything, by Nicola Yoon

GRmorehappythannot

More Happy Than Not, by Adam Silvera

GRthesunisalsoastar

The Sun is Also a Star, by Nicola Yoon

GRupsideofunrequited

The Upside of Unrequited, by Becky Albertalli

Anty read all of those books in a couple of days, which is a nice change from taking a long time to read one book. Even though these books were not historical romances, all of them have love stories in them, and three of them count as romance. What Anty likes about these books is the intensity of emotion, and the distinct author voices. These are both things she hopes to bring into her own work, so taking in what she wants to put out sounds like a good approach to me.

Now that we are past Halloween, and into November, the holiday season is in full swing. The humans are discussing plans for Thanksgiving (I will get a small dish of turkey flavored cat food) and Christmas (this may involve additional humans coming into the house; either way, I still get presents, so I will deal.) It is also the time of year when Anty likes to snuggle under a warm blanket, with a hot beverage, while she reads, writes, or has some thinky time. These are the times when I am on mews duty, which I carry out by sitting very, very close, usually in catloaf formation, and sending out slow blinks and love beams. When Anty writes in her office, I lay on the small strip of hardwood floor near the doorway. I can rest my head on the carpet, but not my paws.

I get to see a lot from this position. Anty likes to write in longhand best, which eans she accumulates a lot of paper. Sometimes, she will throw me crumpled pieces of paper. Usually, I look at them, and I am interested until they stop moving. Then I am not interested anymore. It is kind of like that with writing. When Anty keeps going at a steady clip, the writing comes easier. When the story stops moving, then it is not as interesting anymore, and she might start doing something else. If those other things include petting or feeding me, then that is okay, but she really does need to get back to the writing after that.

When the story stops for Anty, it is usually a case of not knowing what happens next. Once she figures out what happens, then she can get back down to business. Sometimes, this can be solved with some research, like when she needs to know if her characters could do a thing in the eighteenth century, or how they would do it, or what they were wearing while doing that particular thing. Other times, it is more the feel of the scene, or a character would not do what she wants them to do. In those times, it is much better to go with what the character wants. She will probably end up doing that in the long run, anyway, so she may as well make it easier on herself.

Yesterday, Anty spent some time making sure that all of her papers and files were in the right places. This involved a lot of paper, but only paper she wanted to keep, so there was nothing for her to crumple for me. That is okay. I know it will come, in time, once she starts going through sticky notes. Sticky notes are my very favorite kind of crumpled paper, apart from the pamphlets that come inside new Moleskine notebooks. Those are the very very best, but there are only so many Moleskines even Anty can start at one time.

That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,

skyebyenew

see you next week

.

 

The November-est Thing

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As of this morning, I have three weeks left in my morning pages book. I have about the same amount of time left in my planner. This means that I will have two fresh notebooks for the start of the end of the year. For somebody who loves planning, starting two new notebooks at the same time, especially at the start of a new month is like, well, Christmas, which is not that far away anymore.  Starting a new planner means making new plans, and a new book for morning pages means a whole bunch of new mornings. There’s the whole process of choosing what books/planners to use, which pens, flipping through the as-yet empty pages, and imagining what will eventually fill them.

This is another NaNope year for me, but I do want to use the start of a new month to pick up the writing pace. Okay, and try out a new tracker. A page a day is a book in a year, after all. Probably somewhat quicker than that, as I am second-drafting the last half of one book (okay, re-drafting, but it’s my blog, so I’ll call it what I want) and co-writing a second. So, that’s what, two half-books? Which averages out to one whole book, so still somewhat in that ballpark.

The biggest obstacle, for me, to writing more is not knowing what I’m doing. Having a flexible (because those characters have their own ideas) plan in place goes a long way to counteract that, and having an audience is like catnip.  I live for that stuff. In a once upon a time critique group (which included my contemporary co-writer, Melva Michaelian) I was the only person who had something to read, every single week. It wasn’t always on the current WIP, but there was always something. I am not currently in a group, but I do have three independent critique partners, two of whom I met by turning to the new person next to me at an RWA chapter meeting and introducing myself. Pretty much the same for the other one, though online, and on a fan fiction newsgroup.

Talking things out with writer friends usually does the trick to get stalled trains of thought moving again. Sometimes, for extroverts, (okay, often, for extroverts) thinking and talking happen at the same time. This is especially true, for me, when it comes to writing fiction. Babbling is my usual M.O., and, when I start to flounder in said babbling, the best thing is for the other person to ask me questions. Freewriting is basically babbling on paper, and it has its place, but there is that x factor of the other person, those questions I wouldn’t have thought of on my own, but, as soon as they’re asked, bam, there’s the answer.

November brings a focus on productivity, and also on reflection. The days grow shorter, nights longer. Colorful leaves give way to bare branches that reach to a slate-grey sky, hopefully with a good dose of rain and/or snow, on especially good days. This week, my Goodreads challenge tells me I am four books ahead of schedule, thanks to my recent YA binge. I inhaled last night’s This Is Us, and will probably go back and re-watch, to pick up small details from the dual timelines, and follow the threads that appear in both times and connect to the “now” of the present-day story.

November is at once time to pick up the pace and slow it down. Time to remember why I write, and what I want to bring to my readers. Time to refill the well and empty it out, then fill it again. Hopefully time to figure out the right balance so that the metaphorical bucket doesn’t hit dry earth, but there may be a learning curve on that one.

Suffice it to say that I’m excited at this turn of season. Halloween candy is on clearance, along with all things skull-themed and batty. Christmas displays are going up, and Christmas is my favorite holiday, so I like that, but I’d like to take a pause at Thanksgiving first. That’s possibly the November-est thing there is. Not the actual calendar holiday by itself, though that is a big part of it, but the whole feel of Thanksgiving.

Shorter days mean the world gets tucked in for the night, earlier. Cinnamon and pumpkin scent the air. Thoughts turn to friends and family, and who’s going where, when. Couches become beds for a weekend, odd assortments of chairs crowd around the dining room table, to make sure everybody has a seat. Porch lights go on early, firewood becomes a hot (pun intended) commodity, tea, coffee, and cocoa flow, and warm, comfy blankets come out of their hibernation, so that writerly/readerly types can drape them over our laps and hunker down for some quality time with our imaginary friends.

This part, I don’t want to rush. I love the whole holiday season, which, for me, has always started with my own birthday, one week before Halloween, and goes straight on through to Valentine’s Day. I love it. I want to get the most out of it, and I don’t want to rush it. I want to savor it and cherish it and let it do what it does best. I’m grumpy that Thanksgiving, all too often, gets shoved off to the side, when it’s perfectly situated so that there is one major holiday at the end of October, November, and December, but I am not in charge of retail

What I am in charge of is how and when and where I write. This time of year, my imaginary friends come home for the holidays. They hang out with me all year, of course, or at least that is the plan. Most of them would have no idea what Thanksgiving is, and more than a few of them would probably be convinced that I’m making the whole thing up, but  that’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s keeping in the spirit of the season. No family gathering is complete without a few disagreements, a couple of blow-ups, some misunderstandings, squabbling amongst the ranks, etc, but, in the end, the good times are worth it. At least that’s the plan.

 

The Annual NaNoWriMo Waffle

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Right now, I am at my desk, Abbie and Ichabod back on my desktop, because it is almost Halloween. I have an Irish fisherman sweater style blanket in my lap, and am drinking tea out of my new Her Ladyship mug (birthday present from Housemate) and listening to my newest earworm, “This Is How You Walk On,” by Gary Lightbody and Johnny McDaid, on repeat. Here, listen:

When I get earworms like this, it’s usually best to get out of their way (aka play them on repeat for an insanely long period of time) and let them burrow all the way through, because there is something in them, that will be going into a story, somewhere. I’ve had story on the brain lately. Not an entirely unusual thing for a writer, especially of fiction, and, with November a mere couple of days away, it is time for the annual NaNoWriMo waffle around here.

Not that there are actual waffles involved, though I would not turn down any waffles that might come my way, in November or any other month.  To NaNo, or not to NaNo is the big question, and, by this time, I should have it settled, but I don’t. I love the idea of community, and I love the encouragement, but the word count, which is kind of an important part of the whole endeavor, yeah, not so much. I focus on that, and numbers become the goal instead of story. Still, November this year coincides with my goal of increasing production.  Think, think, think. Thinkety-think–think.

Since I normally tend toward overthinking, I am taking a different path. This morning, I updated some trackers in my notebook, and noticed that, once again, I have wandered away from my revised writing tracker. This probably means that I have ruled out another way to track progress. One thing I’ve learned from tracking various habits is that what works best for me is to do what feels natural, and then figure out how I did it afterwards. I don’t know if there is a national month for that. Creative Exploration Month? Is that a thing? Even if it isn’t, the time feels right.

When trying to figure out how/what to track, the question I ask myself first is, “what motivates me?” For writing, the answer is easy: story. Characters. People. When I first slipped a blank sheet of paper into my electronic typewriter (yep, it was that long ago,) in a Vermont dorm room, on an autumn afternoon, I didn’t think about word count. I didn’t think about marketing. I didn’t think about trackers or comparing myself to anybody else. I had too much story on the brain. My only focus was to move my hero and heroine along the timeline of the story. I don’t remember how much I wrote that first day. I do remember taping (this was before I discovered Post-its) a piece of memo paper to the shelf above my desk, with the next milestone I wanted to hit in the next session. All I had to do was write toward that, and everything would be fine.

It’s been a while since then, but this may be one of those times when going with the first, instinctive reaction may be the best. I’m not sorry I paused Her Last First Kiss‘s second draft, to rework some of the events, but November feels right to put away the map and get moving again. Still a little scary, but I think a healthy dose of scariness is a good thing when it comes to writing. It means the writer is trying something new. Stretching. Growing. Adding more tools to the toolbox. If what comes out of it is that I find another method that doesn’t work, well, that’s valuable too.

What I know is this: I have stories. They need to be told. I am the only one who can tell them. Right now, Melva and I have one finished manuscript, our first together, making the rounds, and another in its earliest days of a first draft. I have a second draft of another more than halfway done, with its second half re-plotted to better serve characters and story.

That’s where my attention has to go; the characters and their story. When I can focus on that, slip into their world, and walk around in their skins, writing doesn’t feel like work at all. There’s a time for planning the trip, and a time for hitting the proverbial road. Maybe I’ll NaNo, and maybe I won’t, but, either way, November is going to be time for getting together with my imaginary friends, and getting their stories told.

Typing With Wet Claws: Almost Halloween Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Anty would like to thank all those who wished her a happy birthday this week, because she did have one. For part of it, she got to sit in her comfy chair, drank tea, and read, while I slept under her footrest. There was rain that day, which Anty also very much liked. Uncle ordered in Chinese food for a special birthday lunch (I had cat food, because I am a cat, and that is what cats eat) and then Anty watched Netflix with a friend over Skype (still has nothing to do with Skye pee; I am not going to get over that anytime soon.) Very nice day, all things considered.

The next holiday that is coming up is Halloween, and Anty likes that one, too. I will talk more about that after I bring everyone up to date on where they can find Anty’s writing on the interweb this week (besides here.) First, as always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday. This week, she talked about ghosts in romance. That post is here, and it looks like this:

BURghostromance

Now we come to the part of the post where I tell you about Anty’s Goodreads challenge.

GR2710readubgcgakkebge

As of today, Anty is two books ahead of her goal. She has read seventy-five out of ninety books. All of the books she read this week are YA. Some of them have love stories in them, but not all of them would qualify as romance. Right now, Anty is finding a lot of intense emotion in these books, and would like to figure out how she can get some of that into historical romance. It is a field of study for her at present, and, as we can see from her reading activity, she does not mind the homework. I think these books could use a few more cats in them, but I do get to sleep near Anty’s reading chair no matter what she is reading, so I will not complain. The books Anty read this week are:

GReverythingeverything

Everything Everything, By Nicola Yoon

GRmorehappythannot

More Happy Than Not, by Adam Silvera

GRturtlesallthewaydown

Turtles All The Way Down, by John Green

 

Anty hopes to get more reading done over the weekend, and, because it is my duty as a mews to remind her of her historical romance challenge, she might want to get some of that in the rotation, because the first Friday of the new month is not that far off, and I will be tallying the percentage of historical romances she has read then. I strongly suspect this current YA tear will be followed by a historical romance tear, but who can tell when one will give way to the other?

Now that birthday festivities are (mostly) over, Anty looks forward to some decent writing time in the coming week. She is probably not going to official participate in NaNo WriMo this year, but she may sneak into a write-in or two. Sometimes, Anty needs a booster dose of people, and sometimes, she especially needs to be around writer people. I am not entirely sure how that works (because I am a kitty) but I have learned that Anty needs what Anty needs. Now that her favorite coffee house is open again, she will probably be going there more often, sometimes with notebooks, and sometimes with her laptop, if she can figure out why the whole thing has to be tilted at a certain angle, to keep the screen from going black.  Anty and Miss N have talked some about how they can increase productivity in writing for the rest of the year, not only in November (Miss N is not doing NaNo, either) so Anty will probably say more about that later.

For now, we shift our attention to the next holiday on the calendar, which is Halloween. Anty likes Halloween, because that means that there are a lot more things in stores, with skulls on them. Anty collects skull things. She wears a skeleton hand ring every day, and one of her water bottles is kind of like a mason jar, but shaped like a skull. It is also red, which most skulls are not. Anty does not have any real skulls (apart from the ones the rest of the family is currently using at this time) but she does have a lot of skull-shaped things. Human skulls only, not kitty skulls. That is an important clarification.

Anty is not sure when the skull thing actually started. Maybe it has something to do with pirates, because some of them had skulls, or whole skeletons, on their flags. So far, Anty has only written one story with a pirate in it (that would be Queen of the Ocean) but it will probably not be the last one, because she has been interested in pirates for a very long time.  I am not sure how that one started, either, but she does remember watching a cartoon version of Treasure Island when she was maybe four or five, so that may have something to do with it. The day after Halloween means that things with skulls on them often go on sale, so Anty likes that day, too. Mama has said that Anty likes to go to post-Halloween sales to pick up stuff to use and wear all year round, and she is not wrong.

I should probably mention here that Anty once won a prize for wearing an imaginative Halloween costume to work, when she was actually wearing her regular clothes. Anty did not correct the person, because the prize was free chocolate, and Anty is not stupid. She is not that into chocolate these days (though she will probably want one fun-sized Snickers sometime in the next week) so gummi bears would be a better choice to reward her for creative dressing. Or maybe books. Anty always likes books.

That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,

skyebyenew

see you next week

 

 

Middle of the Week, End of the Day

annabowling 2 Comments

Middle of the week, and, once again, I am making this blog entry at the end of the day instead of the beginning of it. This bothers me, but, if I’m staying with the common threads theme, so the later posting time gets reframed as in keeping with the theme.

Yesterday was critique meeting day, with N, who also attended the workshop where we had to find common threads in our favorite viewing matter. Naturally, we had to compare lists. They were different, no choices in common, though we were more or less familiar with each other’s choices, or could fill in the blanks enough to get the gist of what appealed to the individual.

What we both agreed on, though, was that we would have liked to have made longer lists. The more examples, the easier it is to spot a pattern, but five was a good number when discussing in small groups. We also discussed the criteria for giving something favorite status. Does it have to be something watched multiple times, or can we count the moment when, during a first viewing, that we know a moment on the screen (or page) has crossed the border from something we watch or read, to something that is a part of us. Sometimes, a moment is all it takes.

Two characters who wouldn’t appear to be potential romantic partners at first lock eyes in the right circumstances, maybe brush hands in the briefest of touches, and that’s it. Boom. Never saw it coming, but, now, we will go down with this ship. A car drives around a bend in the road, we see the first view of the stately manor house, and now a part of our heart will always live there, no matter what else happens, in the story, or in life. Scenes stick in our mind. Sometimes, they hang out there for a long time, waiting for other pieces of the puzzle, to join them and become something new.

Both N and I discussed keeping longer lists of these films and TV that catch our interest on that level, and how I expand the concept in my Play In Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys workshop, to include not only visual media, but books, music, and other miscellaneous media – computer games, graphic novels, etc. On the surface, they may not seem like they have much in common, but get them all in one place, and start looking for the common threads, and, surprise, there they are. Later that same day, I chatted with another friend, H, who mentioned a new option in a favorite game. It now has an arctic survival factor. Sold. I don’t need to hear any more than that. The first novel-length fanfic I ever wrote was set on an arctic world, for the mere reason that I love snow. If I have to create an alien world, there is going to be snow on it. Everywhere on it.

I love the idea of core story, not that it’s a formula, or one author doing the same thing time and again, but that readers know what they’re getting from a particular author. Hopefully, it’s the stuff that the author loves, and, ideally, at the spin-around-in-a-field-of-daisies level. Readers can tell. Trust me on that. For me, that basically breaks down to include (but not limited to) the following:

  • full immersion historical atmosphere – this is far past long dresses on the female characters. I’m talking the era as almost a character in itself, where characters think and act like people of their time. I want to be steeped in the period, feel it in my blood, and, for the space of the story, live in that world instead of our own. I have my favorite eras, but as long as we get full immersion, I can go pretty much anywhere/when.
  • star-crossed lovers who make it work – this is my catnip. If I could only write one kind of story for the rest of my life, this would be it. Give me two lovers who belong together, but have the entire world against them (or so it seems) only to find out that the world is no match for true love. I am perfectly fine if this takes years, or, in the case of sagas, decades. Hard-earned happily ever afters are my favorites.
  • house as character – do not get me started on this one. Usually a stately English home, but there are a few on the other side of the Atlantic as well. Double points if this is in a generational saga, and we get to see the house change with the different generations of occupants. Triple points if house falls out of family’s possession, and then back in after some time away. If I ever (who are we kidding, when) I get to write a family saga, there is going to be at least one of these in there.
  • survivor characters – I like my people to go through some stuff. Their emotional baggage, more times than not, comes in coordinated ensembles and may, in fact, need a luggage cart, or small pack animal, to carry it through the whole book. Hauling around all that baggage does develop some emotional muscles.

This isn’t a comprehensive list, though that may be something to consider as I study the idea of core story. Always good to know what tools are in one’s toolbox. What’s in yours?

 

Common Threads at the End of the Day

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It’s a Monday. I had vague plans about a topic for this blog, and then life happened, so here I am, at the end of the day, rather than the beginning of it, the vague idea long gone. I’m not surprised. It was a full weekend, and these things happen. Instead, I’ll go with the first thing that comes to mind, which is a big chunk of how I spent my Saturday.

I look forward to my monthly CR-RWA meetings. A whole afternoon, spent mingling with others of my kind (romance writers) and learning how to advance our careers, write more, write better, etc, meet with friends who do what I do, and meet new people who do what I do. Also, there are snacks. This post isn’t about the snacks.

What this post is about, is part of the workshop we had this month. The lovely and talented Marie Lark spoke about using the movies and TV we love, to pinpoint common themes in our core story, the things we come back to, time after time. Core story has been on my mind a lot lately, and a similar exercise is part of the Play In Your Own Sandbox, Keep All The Toys workshop I’ll be teaching in March, so this workshop had my attention on two different levels. Three, when we broke into small groups, because I love group dynamics.

Our first assignment was to list five of our very, very favorite movies and/or TV shows, the ones we watch multiple times, because we love them that much. My ears pricked, because this sounded like fun, and then I stared at the blank page in front of me, because there is one thing that always comes when I’m asked this kind of question. Throw one of these questions at me, and I immediately feel as though I’ve never met myself. It’s a big question, and “favorite,” to me, means the very top tier. Are we talking about of all time here, or right now, or is there something in the middle of those two qualifiers? I have to sift through the possibilities, weigh them against how they might be received by the small group, by the room, by…I don’t know, them.  Generic them.

What I finally wrote on the page was, in no particular order:

  • Saturday Night Fever
  • How I Met Your Mother (finale excluded)
  • Love Actually
  • The Walking Dead
  • Brideshead Revisited (1981 miniseries)

When instructions came for the next part, I felt, well, naked. The other group members were to look at the works listed and pick out commonalities. The person who wrote the list was not to contribute at this phase. Within my group, I have a slight acquaintance with one person, had met another for the first time at the start of the meeting, and the fourth, for the first time, during the exercise. So, basically, a bunch of strangers are seeing me virtually naked for the purpose of this exercise.

Two things jumped out at the group at first: ensembles, and coming to terms with a dying world. Still thinking on the ensemble part, because, when I write, I’m focused on the hero and heroine, though the supporting cast is important. The second part, though, coming to terms with a dying world, ding, ding, ding. That one, yes. A once upon a time friend once said that all of my stories are about moving on after a loss, and they are not wrong. I live for that stuff. That, and star crossed lovers, who, somehow, make it work.

I’m still looking at this list, letting it roll around in my head, and thinking of what another group member asked, about what didn’t make the list. Remains of the Day, that’s one. Book and movie, both. The first two seasons of Sleepy Hollow. Maybe it’s too soon to add Poldark to the list, because I’ve only seen the first two seasons once, still haven’t watched any of the current season, and I’ve seen more of the Outlander TV series than I’ve read the books, so do I even qualify to add that? There’s the span of the entire Degrassi franchise, all the way back to when Principal Simpson was in junior high. What about shows I love, but haven’t been back to for a while? Mad About You, Cold Case, Remington Steele, Moonlight, Lost, the first season and a half of Highlander?

Picking only five is a small sample. For those curious, an ever-growing Pinterest board of my favorite OTPs (One True Pairing) can be found here. A lot more choices there, and yet they all have something that draws me back to them, even if I stare blankly at the page for a moment when asked to pinpoint what it is. This may require further study.

What common threads do you see?

TheWriterIsOut

 

 

Typing With Wet Claws: Almost Anty’s Birthday Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. It is now only four more days until Anty’s birthday. Anty really really really loves birthdays. They do not always have to be her own, but when they are, that is even more special. I would say shop early and beat the crowds, but there are only four days left, and stores are pretty crowded on weekends, no matter whose birthday is coming, so leaving a note in the comment section will be fine. Anty does not ask for much, really, but she does insist that there be cake. There does not have to be any candles, but even one would be a plus. Anty likes candles. The big, smelly kind that comes in jars are her favorites, but Uncle does not always like the same smells Anty likes, so she sometimes has to settle for small ones with lids, so she can sniff them when she wants a hit of whatever scent the candle is. This time of year, she likes cinnamon or clove and that kind of thing. The day after Thanksgiving, she switches to pine and/or peppermint. Fireplace smells are good all year, though. Pens and notebooks are good all year, too, as are art supplies. My birthday is probably around Valentine’s Day, according to my first vet. I like cat food, and treat. Plan accordingly.

This has been a full week for Anty, so I had best get those updates out of the way, so I will have room to talk more. First, as always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday. October is when Anty talks about spooky and/or paranormal romances, and, last week, she talked about time travel romances. That post is here, and it looks like this:

BURtimetravel

Even though it was not Anty’s week to recap Outlander, it was time for a new post on Heroes and Heartbreakers. Did you think Frank Randall deserved a better ending than he got on the TV show? Anty did, and you can read about some of her ideas on that in her post. It is here, and it looks like this:

HandHFrankHEA

Now it is time to look at Anty’s Goodreads challenge. So far, Anty has read seventy-two out of the ninety books for her goal this year. This puts her at eighty percent done, and she is on track. Good job, Anty. Keep going. I will not mention that all three of the books that she finished and reviewed this week were YA, not historical romance, but one of the YA books is romance, and the weekend is here, so we will see what happens. The books Anty read and reviewed this week are these:

 

 

GRAllTheBrightPlacesNiven

 

Okay, I think those are all the places where Anty wrote stuff on the interwebs this past week. She has been writing stuff here at home, too. Earlier this week, she sent Anty Melva a scene for Drama King, and Anty Melva sent another one back. That is three scenes so far, total. This book is officially underway. That is a good thing, because the publisher that said they would like to read the whole book of Chasing Prince Charming is now doing exactly that. They will probably get back to Anty Melva and Anty in about a month and a half. That is not very long to wait. Whatever the verdict is, Anty and Anty Melva are excited about making it this far with their first co=written book.

Because it is almost Anty’s birthday, that means a couple of other things are coming up as well. Those things are Halloween and NaNoWriMo. Anty loves skulls and scary things like that all year round (she wears a skeleton hand ring every day) and is excited for The Walking Dead‘s new season. We do not give out candy on Halloween, because A) we live in a neighborhood where most of the people are almost-grownups, and B) there is no antianxiety medication, for humans or kitties, that would counteract our prewar doorbell going off all night long. Still, the day after means that skull themed things will be on deep discount in stores, and that makes Anty very happy.

Anty has a love/hate relationship with NaNoWriMo. The word count thing trips her up, but she likes the camaraderie, and she would like to get farther into this new version of Her Last First Kiss, so she may see about adapting the system to her own use. She will probably not officially sign up, but it can be good, sometimes, to give oneself a push. We will see how this all works out, but suffice it to say that Anty would like to move Ruby and Ruby’s hero to their happily ever after at a quicker pace, now that she has a better handle on this part of the book. She may need a few extra loops around the lake in the park, with her playlist for this particular story on repeat. Possibly with some tea in her travel mug. It can’t hurt, and she can take movies of ducks, to show me when she gets back. I like when she makes movies of ducks and then shows them to me. I am not sure any book about humans can be as interesting as duck movies, but anything is possible.

On behalf of the family, allow me to say thank you to all who left kind words on the loss of Tuna Roll. Our time with him was short, but his legacy will be long. The next fish will have some big fins to fill. I do not know when my next fish brother will arrive, but he will carry on the thought of the day tradition, once he is here.

I think that is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,

skyebyenew

see you next week

 

If Anything Happens To Me, It Was The Canada Goose

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Right now, I am at my desk, planner open in front of me, Pilot G-2 gel pens at the ready. I am running about an hour late, give or take a few minutes, but still roughly on schedule. The sky is clear outside my office window, and part of me wants to shut off the computer and head to the park because A) I want to leaf-peep, B) park people are already setting up for the holiday light show, and C) I want to see if the mallards and Canada geese are still there. I think so, on that last one. I don’t know if they are “our” ducks, or visitors from up north, on a layover as they head for their summer home, but I am pretty sure the geese are ours. If anything happens to me, this guy did it.

1010canadagoose

Big guy in the center of the frame, that is, but do not underestimate his mate, next to him. I am pretty sure she has some skills of her own. They own this end of the pond. Let’s be honest, the whole pond, but this seems to be their favorite spot, possibly because of the benches, which mean humans, which mean food. To be clear, I mean that the humans would bring food for the geese, not become food for the geese, but let us consider this gander, above. I cannot rule that out.

I’ve taken to the habit of making at least one loop of the lake on my afternoon walks during the eek, whenever possible. It’s come to the point now, that, if I don’t make my loop, I miss it. Normally, I would play music on my headphones, but a writer friend suggested I try a podcast or audiobook, for a change. I am now on my second audiobook of the week. The first one was All The Bright Places, by Jennifer Niven, and I am still not emotionally recovered. Since my friend also suggested that I make the audiobooks for walks only, as an added incentive, and I didn’t want to wait to find out what happened to the two leads in ATBP, I bailed on the audiobook, got the hardcover at the library, and blazed through it.

Still thinking about that book (a love story, but not a romance) and the other Niven title I got at the same time, Holding Up the Universe. That one is a romance, and I’m not sure where History Is All You Left Me, by Adam Silvera, which I got at the same time, is going to end up; could go romance, could go not-romance, but there is definitely a love story (or two, maybe three, depending on what one counts) and maybe a bromance. Still too early to call on that one, and I would be perfectly happy taking it with me on my loop around the pond this afternoon, but it’s hardcover, not audiobook, so I may need to take it to a park bench or my favorite coffeehouse instead.

What I’ve noticed about this most recent YA binge is that I am gobbling the love stories in these books, while I give guilty looks to the two historical romances, one on my Kindle, and one in paperback, that still wait, with varying degrees of patience, for me to get back to them. Maybe I’m still not over my last historical romance read, Tyburn, by Jessica Cale. I know I’m still mourning a secondary character who left us far too soon. Books most certainly do have mourning periods, and respecting them is usually a smart move.

Later, tonight, after walk and geese and audiobook and dinner, I will settle into my office chair, and divide the screen into two windows. One window will be Skype, so I can talk to my writer friend, H, and the other window will be Netflix, so that we can watch the last two episodes of The Seven Deadly Sins season one, together. It’s anime, which I never would have picked on my own, and do not quiz me on the magic system, anime tropes, or the like, because what has my attention is (no surprise) the love stories. Renegade knights, sought for crimes they didn’t commit, tortured backstories, and star-crossed lovers who find ways to make it work? Um, yes, please. There is a part of my mind that is filing all of this away and figuring out how to siphon the essence for future historical romance doings.

This Saturday, I will attend my CR-RWA meeting, where Marie Lark will give a workshop on core story, which has been on my mind a lot lately, both for writing fiction and for updating the content of my own workshop that I’ll be giving online in March, through Charter Oak Romance writers.  I don’t think any of this is coincidence.

Where I am right now in my second draft of Her Last First Kiss, I need to get Ruby, my heroine, so wound with anxiety that the air crackles around her, with all the possible things that could go wrong, which is exactly when she throws herself in front of one of them. It’s a romance, so things will turn out fine, but up until then, no guarantees. Maybe I’m doing the writer version of carb-loading for that. This may require more than one loop around the lake, to sort everything out, and possibly a hot beverage in a travel mug.

Cave ansarem. (that’s Beware the Goose in Latin)

TheWriterIsOut