historical romance

Return of the Video Blog?

annabowling Leave a comment

The fact that the first blog of the week is up on Wednesday should be some indicator of how the week is going over here. That picture up there? :points to featured image: Also an indicator, because the picture I did take of my workspace for the day (lan desk, on top of the air mattress, Big Pink, blush planner, and Typhoo tea in my A mug) is not showing in Google Photos. I am going to guess that not getting any sleep until six in the morning has something to do with this fact. I also suspect that said sleep only lasting three hours has something else to do with the issues at hand.

Suffice it to say I am more than a bit pushy, which may actually be a good way o go into a writing day. So far, I’ve busted open some scented pens and made some longhand notes on Drama King. Melva and I agreed to take two weeks off (this being the second) before we came back to Drama King, but Jack is a hard hero to shut up, especially when he’s been waiting totally not at all patiently, for attention.

Right now, what I want most is a nap, That will probably happen, at some point, but it’s the start of a new month, the home stretch of summer, time to fill the well and gather speed for the surge of my super powers that return in autumn. It’s off and on raining, though ambient rain sounds on my computer means rain all the time. I like rain. Rain makes me think, and thinking is good when it comes time to do actual writing. Which is big surprise, now. First order of business, blog entry (I’ll make up Monday’s entry, later.) No time to overthink that kind of thing today, so I will go with what’s been on my mind.

For the last couple of nights, I’ve meant to navigate to Netflix or Hulu, but found myself, instead, on YouTube, watching book related videos, mostly reviews or recommendations. I’d first stumbled upon these videos when I was flat out too tired to read, but still wanted to be around historical romance,  and started gobbling them like popcorn. Get me talking about the historical romances I love, and we are going to be there a while. Some of the posts are focused on what the reader doesn’t like, and, for the most part, it’s done without malice, that X didn’t work for that individual, why, and that others’ experience may be different. Also, for the most part, the historical romances touched upon are A) of recent publication, and B) the words, “fluff,” or “fluffy” get tossed around a lot, and I love how much these readers love what they love.

That’s how I feel about a lot of older, or lesser known, or gritty, or angsty, etc, historical romance, and I do miss blabbering about books I love at Heroes and Heartbreakers, so maybe this is a good time to start doing that for myself? Maybe it is. Still thinking about that one, because video blogs take time, and writing new fiction does have to come first. Even though my current pleasure reading has skewed heavily, lately, to realistic YA, my home is still historical romance, and I’m hungry for more time with it.

There are logistics to that. The Hypercritical Gremlins (it’s harder for them to get to the apartment, because we live in a secure building and there’s no way I’m buzzing them up from the entryway) needle that nobody wants to hear me blabber about books, even though I literally did that for monies for several years, so there, Hypercritical Gremlins. You guys can shush. It might, at times, be a distraction, but then again, time spent examining what I love and why I love it, is a great way to stay in touch with the reasons I do this whole fiction writing thing, in the first place.

Yesterday, I sat in a Dunkin Donuts with SueAnn Porter, over beverages and bagels, and had a marvelous discussion about works in progress, and the importance of historical fiction/romance, and…:happy sigh.: Yeah. That. There is nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing, like sinking into another time and place, where two people have to be together, but can’t…until they find a way to make it work. I live for that stuff. Fluff is often a hard sell for me (though there is some great fluff out there, for sure) but when a love story  can hit me hard in the gut, make me cry, and then pull through with the happily ever after, after all (happily ever after all?) there really is nothing better. That’s what I want to provide for my readers.

Maybe this is an additional way to do that. Maybe it’s not. What I do know is that blabbering about things I love is fun, so odds are that I am probably going to give it a shot in the not too distant future. My retreat with Skye is coming up in under two weeks, so I will have laptop, cat, and all the time in the world. Might have to give it a go. What kinds of books would you like to hear/see me blabber about? Drop suggestions in the comments, and I may give it a go.

 

Why Did It Have to Be Selkies?

annabowling 2 Comments

When I was but a wee princess, my parents, or some well meaning family friend, gave me a book of folk tales of the British Isles. I. Loved. That. Book. I still have it, though it’s in storage right now, so I can’t refer to it, but, when I needed to pick a project to work on for July’s Camp NaNo, I landed on selkies.

Not literally. They probably wouldn’t like that very much, but, once the idea was there, it put down roots, so okay. At first, it was mermaids. There I was, on retreat with Skye, and I had my Jane Davenport Whimsical Girls book out, turned to a page with two female figures. I surveyed my color choices. The faces looked similar, so maybe two versions of the same woman? Realistic and fantasy, maybe? Human and mermaid? Ooh. What if they were half sisters?

I whipped out the appropriate medium, and let my brain do its own thing while I swooped color across the page. By itself, the story formed. It’s a historical romance, first and foremost, (not between the sisters) with some familial conflict, and it doesn’t feel so much “paranormal” as one side of the family happens to be selkies. I was thinking mermaids at first, but there is the mermaid problem, Namely, how to put this gracefully, have intimate mermaid/human relations. This would be essential, so a quick bit of searching on aforementioned folklore of the British Isles was in order.

Which brings me to the selkie problem. Not the same as the mermaid problem, because selkies seem to have it easier in the human relations department. Shed seal skin, have human form. Sorted. Selkies, in many stories, become involved with humans, reproduce, and sometimes go back to the sea. Whether or not they can take their special friend with them varies, and I’m good with that. Works out rather well for what my story people want to do, and gave me a moment of clarity on why sting named one of his albums Soul Cages.

What, exactly, you might ask, is the selkie problem? For this gal, it’s names. Naming a character is an important part of the process, and, frequently, for me, it’s more a matter of them telling me what their names are. They won’t answer to anything else. I still have an outline draft with a hero who didn’t even know his own name until the very last chapter. (I am definitely going back to that one, someday,.) What the heck does one name a selkie? What do selkies, or, in a more broader scope, mythical/legendary creatures call themselves?

Thankfully, I neglected to officially sign up for July’s Camp NaNo, so I am doing it unofficially, with my goal to figure out this whole story, and what the heck I am doing even thinking about it, because I am not a paranormal writer, and the last time I ventured into that realm, my life fell apart, and I ended up ugly crying during a critique group (that had only positive comments, by the way) in the middle of a coffee house. The ugly crying incident had nothing to do with  me moving to a different state, but it does give me a sense of security that I never have to face that barista again.

This is the part of the process where I start writing down what I know about the story, telling it to myself. Kind of folktale-y, definitely historical romance, flying into the mist sort of thing. At the same time, Melva and I are thisclose to getting Chasing Prince Charming back to the editor who invited us to revise and resubmit, then will turn our attention back to Drama King. On my own, N is not letting me squiggle out of getting back in the saddle for Her Last First Kiss  so there is no lack of things to do. So, why toss another project into the mix? \

Good question. The best answer I have at this moment is “because I can.” Consider it the writing equivalent of physical/occupational therapy. I’m glad I did my May Camp Nano the way I did, and it is still simmering, goal met, so I can figure out exactly how my couple solves their problem. What is it that makes my heroine know what she has to do? I don’t know that yet, but it will come, and likely when I am slipping into a sealskin and taking it out for a spin.

In the meantime, hit me with selkie names. I’ll take anything.

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Typing With Wet Claws: Retreat Preparations Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday, from Camp Grandma. This upcoming week will be an exciting one, because when the Grandma’s away, the kitty will play…with Anty! Mama is taking Grandma to visit with some friends, and so Anty will come and stay with me, while they are gone. We are not quite ready for Forever Apartment, but I have missed having Anty every day, so this is the next best thing. Anty is calling it a “retreat,” because A) she will be away from home, B) Grandma does not have interwebs, so Anty cannot be distracted by things like Facebook and TV Tropes, and  that kind of thing. More on that later.

The rule of Anty letting me blog for her on Fridays, is that I need to talk about Anty’s writing, before I can talk about anything else (though it is usually Anty’s writing, anyway) so I will do that now. As usual, Anty was at Buried Under Romance, this past Saturday, talking about wedding season. In romance novels, that is every season. That post is here, and it looks like this:

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Anty also writes quite a bit about the books she has read, so I will now check in on Anty’s Goodreads Challenge.   .  Anty is doing very well this week. At forty-two books read, out of ninety, sbe is forty-seven percent of the way to her goal, and two books ahead of schedule. This week, she read three books, with one of them historical romance. Keep going, Anty. You are doing grate. Um, great. Here are the books Anty read this week:

GRallofthisistrue

All Of This Is True, by Lygia Kay Penaflor

GRwhimsicalgirls

Whimsical Girls, by Jane Davenport

GRwintersheat

Winter’s Heat, by Denise Domning

Domning Nation will continue during the retreat, as Anty has all of Miss Denise’s books in the Graistan series on her Kindle. Anty is also bringing Miss Jane’s book, and some art supplies, largely from Miss Jane’s line, with her on the retreat. I highly approve of this, as I very much like watching Anty both read and make art. I have heard that other kitties like to help their humans make art, but I prefer to watch. I prefer my fur to remain paint-free. If Anty has movies on her laptop, or if she can bring the portable DVD player, then she can sit on the floor with me, and we can watch movies together. Maybe she will even find a way to download that classic suspense film, Koi In Their Winter Tank. I still do not know where Orange Fishy goes I thought for sure it was behind the computer, but no. This bears multiple re-watchings.

This past Tuesday, Anty and Miss N had their usual weekly breakfast and writing talk together, although it turned into a special day, because Uncle had to go to the people vet yet again, and then that people vet sent him to a smarter people vet, who knows human paws better than regular people vets do. Smarter People Vet told Uncle to come back next week, so they can look even closer at what is making his paws hurt. Anty cannot go with him, because she will be with me, so we will both have to send our love beams remotely. I will show Anty how.

In case any of you are worried that Anty will be too lonely for human company during her retreat, there is no need. She and Anty Melva will spend some time together, so that they can work on the changes needed for Chasing Prince Charming, and get that off to the publisher who wants to look at it again, as soon as possible. Tben, they can get back to working on Drama King, which they both think is marvelous fun. I like it because there is an important character in that book, who is a kitty. Can I have a book boyfriend, even though I am fixed? (#TeamClawed) Uncle is still the love of my life, though. He is my favorite, and I love him the most. Anty says that Uncle will make me a new movie, for this visit, and we can watch it any time I want. I hope she will remember she said that, if I wake her in the middle of the night so we can watch it. Because I will.

Anty tells me not to expect too much on the first day of the retreat, because she is probably going to sleep for most of it. Um, Anty. I am a kitty. I will never criticize anybody for taking a lot of naps. There will be reading along with the sleeping, though I do not know how much of either. We will see when Anty gets here. The main part of the retreat, once Anty has a few feet of water in her well, is for Anty to jump back into writing historical romance again. Sometimes, a writer needs to reconnect with their genre, and that is what Anty is hoping to accomplish with this retreat.

It has been a crazy few months, and camp will probably last until September, but that is when Anty’s  super powers come back, so maybe that is good timing. In the meantime, I plan to get a whole lot of mew-sing done on this retreat, so I can send Anty back to For-Now Apartment, ready to get some historical romance out there.

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

SkyeByeTemp

We Have a Desktop…Now What?

annabowling Leave a comment

There is, technically, a desktop computer in the house. Setting it up is farther down on my list for the day, but I am eyeing the TV tray (still the only one of its kind in the Stately Bowling Manor summer quarters.) The inner editor is strong today, but the crackle of energy that comes with having my machine back is stronger. Inner editor can go stuff herself, because I am tired of her bullpoop.

This past Saturday, I attended my local RWA chapter meeting (CR-RWA) and had a chat with the lovely and talented Eden Mabee, on a couple of topics. First, was a discussion of  where new romance readers, and writers, might come from, and then, as another friend joined the conversation, about the books that got us into romance reading in the first place Historical romance, in particular. At some point, I mentioned that I have not only a TBR list (actually that is only codified in Goodreads. I am not sure I possess enough notebooks to write down every book I want to read, but a To Be Re-Read list, and a To Finally Read list. As I’ve gone through the turbo move, I’ve found myself skittering around the edges of both, though I checked off my second TBFR title this weekend…after first reading a duology by the same author, that had nothing to do with the book on the TBFR list. The book on the list actually starts off a quintology, with the author now writing books about the next generation of the family covered in the first five books. I am a sucker for generational sagas. Hero and Heroine of book one as parents of hero or heroine in a subsequent book? :makes grabby hands: See them again as grandparents, later on? Yes. Give. Me. That. Not to put pressure on this author for a third generation, when she’s already started on the second, and I have only dipped my toes in the first, but this falls in with you don’t ask, you don’t get.

Eden suggested that I might consider putting those lists on my site, which I will be doing, and maybe think about writing a post on my most re-read novels. I am all over that.  The idea of picking a top five floated around for a while. I want some more time on that, though I could name the top two, maybe three, right off the top of my head, no problem, no hesitation. I’m not  re-reading anything right now, though I am reading two authors I’ve been meaning to read for literally years. Double digit years, in one case Maybe both.

While I was at CR-RWA, Housemate went to the storage unit, and unearthed, among other things, my desktop computer and my box of desk babies, those special pens and notebooks that lived on my desk in the old apartment. Cue little kid on Christmas morning feeling. Pens, pens, beautiful pens. Hello, notebooks. I sifted through the boxes within the box, to make sure everybody was okay (yes, my pens are “everybody,” not “everything”) and heaved a sigh of relief when I ascertained that they were, in fact, all fine I am certain the same thing will happen when I bust the desktop out of its cardboard prison. In the past, when I’ve come back from a period of not having computer access, I’ve described it as like finally getting my voice back. This time,  and I don’t know precisely why yet, I would say it’s my hands.

Maybe that’s because of Real Life Romance Hero’s recent battles with his own extremities. Maybe it’s because I use my hands when I use both computer and pen and paper. Maybe there’s some other reason, but, this time, it’s hands. Fine by me. Hands do a lot of the work of writing, or a lot of the work of writing that involves getting the story in a form where others can read it . Important, that. I am not opposed to a good old-fashioned storyteller/bard kind of setup, and anybody who has known me for more than five minutes knows that I can talk pretty much forever, especially if there are stories involved, but there’s something in actually reading the written word, and in actually writing it, as well, that doesn’t come through any other means.

Maybe it’s because there is something therapeutic in whipping out the utility scissors and slicing through the packing tape, then opening the cardboard flaps, and uncovering what has been hidden away for far too long.

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Typing With Wet Claws: Grandma is a Snitch Edition

annabowling 1 Comment

Hello, all. Skye here, bringing you yet another Feline Friday, straight from Camp Grandma. Grandma and I are getting along okay, but she is no Uncle, and there is the small matter of her calling the v-e-t on me ( do not worry, I am okay) so I will be glad when Forever Apartment becomes available. More on that later.

Even though I am at camp, I still have to talk about Anty’s writing before I can talk about anything else. First, as always, Anty was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday, talking about the surprise shut-down of RT Book Reviews magazine and associated ventures. I have heard that the magazine was very nice to lie on, so I am sure many kitties will miss it. That post is here, and it looks like this:

http://www.buriedunderromance.com/2018/05/saturday-discussion-hail-and-farewell-romantic-times.html

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As you can see, remote blogging has a bit of a learning curve, but a good mews never lets a little thing like distance to get in their way. Next week, Anty will come and visit me when she speaks to Charter Oak Romance Writers. Anty and I are both looking forward to that. Uncle has to work, so he cannot come, but Anty will bring me something that smells like him, which is a good consolation prize. I will probably send her back with some shed fur, and maybe a whisker I am done using. A mews has to do what a mews has to do.

One of those things is to cheer Anty on when she is doing the right thing. Besides submitting two pieces to an anthology that asked her to submit, she has also got some good news: she and Anty Melva will be presenting their workshop, Writing Through The Tears, also known as Save The Writer, Save the Book, at CT Fiction Fest in September. For more information, and maybe to guess the workshops Anty hopes most are not opposite hers, visit the conference site here:

http://www.ctfictionfest.org/workshops.html

Anty has returned to her regular schedule of meetings with fellow writer humans, which feels very good, after that whole moving interruption. The interwebs connection here is much better, so Anty got to have her whole conversation with Anty Melva without weak signals or anything. That was exciting, even if Anty did have to carry on her end of the conversation from the edge of the bathtub.

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That is how Anty has to set up the laptop so that Anty Melva can talk to Anty’s face instead of her, umm, shirt, but writers, like their mewses, do what they must.  Also, Sebastian tells me it is very echoey in the For-Now apartment, so going into a different room is probably the best way to go.

Although I am still working out how to link Anty’s Goodreads challenge in this whole remote business, I can let you know that she is currently 41% of the way to her goal, with 37 out of 90 books read. She may have read more, but I will have Sebastian run the numbers later. Her two most recent reads were both historical romance:

Lady in White , by Denise Domning

And

The Prince of Midnight, by Laura Kinsale

I will have Sebastian add the links later, as those are tricky to do here at camp. It looks like DomningNation is a go, because, now, Anty is reading Winter’s Heat, also by Miss Denise, and she has all of the four books that come after it already on hrr Kindle, plus some other books by Miss Denise, so Anty is all set on that front.

This weekend, Anty and Mama hope to get Anty’s desktop out of storage, so nobody has to listen to Anty’s whining about….umm, I mean Anty will have an easier time doing her work. That will also let Anty play her games again. A gaming Anty is a happy Anty, and it might help her to miss me less if she could make a Sim version of me to keep her Simself company. We will see how that goes. This coming week is for Anty bringing herself up to date on her current projects, and that is much easier on a desktop computer.

In case you were wondering about the whole Grandma being a snitch thing, I should mention that Grandma and I have had a difference of opinion as to where I should do my, um, stuff. Grandma was worried that I was not making stuff at all (I totally was) so she called the local vet, who was my old vet, before we moved, and told her I had not made any stuff since I started camp. I am eating and drinking fine (Grandma gets a A+ on water bowl replenishment) so the vet told Grandma that I am not sick, just in a strange place, and want to be sure I am safe. Anty or Mama will probably find my stuff spot right away, and let Grandma know where I want my stuff spot to be. Mama also rold Grandma to talk to her before any vets (the vet could not see me, anyway, without Mama’s permission) and that I am fine. Not exactly happy, but fine.

Uncle is doing much better after his own stay at the people vet, and, apart from me being at camp, things are pretty good. The humans are moving things into For-Now apartment on an as needed basis, which Sebastian says makes for some interesting arrangements as they figure out what is a need-need and what would be nice.

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Of course, getting me home is the biggest need, but, in the meantime, Sebastian is doing a pretty good job of providing a facsimile of a feline presence. That window is his favorite spot. I remain, even at camp, a floor girl .

That is about it for this week. Until next time, I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling

(The kitty, not the book)

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Six Days and Counting

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Six days now, until move-out day, and the pressure is most assuredly upon us. We’ll be turning in our cable box, which also takes care of our internet, on Friday, so internet access may be libraries and coffee shops for a little while. I still plan to keep as closely to the regular blog schedule as possible, but if you’re following the moving saga, and don’t already follow me on Twitter, you can do that right here.

I will admit to strong feelings when it comes to taking apart my desktop and getting it ready to move to short term storage. This means the laptop will be called back to regular duty, which means tipping it back a wee bit, because the screen goes black if I hold it upright (I have no idea why this is; machine works fine, but needs to be at an angle if I want to actually see anything.) The flip side of this will be setting up my desk in its new home, and carving out my writing space once more. Until then, the world is my office.

This is one way that being a longhand-first writer comes in handy. The notebooks I use most (see picture above) will go in a special bag that will travel with me, personally, because I am not in the mood to have these notebooks go walkabout in the moving process. Entertaining as they might be to any random person who stumbles up on them and can read my handwriting, I’d rather keep them close. I can’t speak for all writers having special relationships with their tools, but, for this writer, the answer is most definitely yes.

Case in point: this weekend, I attended a leadership meeting (say what you will about an organization that allows me to lead anything) and we were all encouraged to take notes. I did not need the offered pen or paper, because I had Big Pink, and my pen case, but I did make a troubling discovery. Said discovery being the kind that trikes terror into the heart of a notebook lover. My notes filled the last pages of my Moleskine Volant, with its perforated pages. Normally, I would swap this insert for another, but (you may want to grab onto something heavy, for support) I had already packed my inserts. All. Of. Them.

Going into a move when I do not have perforated pages is not going to work, and running out to purchase another pack of inserts is not on the schedule, but packing mode has sped up the making connections part of my brain. On that same day, I also had filled the last non-perforated page in my cahier. There was an unopened hardcover Moleskine, lined, in my bookcase-made-from-milk-crates in the living room. Move cahier to Volant’s place, put hardcover where cahier used to be, all purposes fulfilled, back to alternating between calculated confidence and running around in circles, flailing arms and screaming.

More calculated competence, when it comes to packing, and, oddly enough, in writing, as I am on track with my Camp NaNo progress. If I keep up at my current rate, I may very well finish before the end of the month, with room to spare. The story problem is a smaller one (or is it?) – get heroine back with the man she loves, and send her would-have-been second husband off into the sunset, eventually to land in a companion story. We’ll see how that goes.

Novel projects are on pause (or are they?) while we’re in transition, but part of packing includes digging up bones. One of these bones comes in a navy blue binder. Said binder is not the kind with space for me to put my own cover image behind a clear film, so I had no idea what I’d find, when I opened it. What I did find yanked me firmly into novel land. In Nothing Short of Heaven, which  initial version was, itself, a NaNo project (though regular or camp version, I cannot say) is, like Her Last First Kiss, set in Georgian England, and I won’t say I forgot about Slate and Melanie (because how could I?) but seeing them again, when I didn’t expect them, well that was something else.

Slate has no sense of self, while Melanie knows exactly who she is. Her theme song is “So What,” by P!nk. Her BS meter is set to zero, which serves her well, because Slate, well, he has some baggage. This book also has probably my favorite villain I’ve written so far, who prefers the title of Master to his actual name. I’m still planning on finishing the second draft of Her Last First Kiss first, but I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted with Slate and Melanie, at all, when I’m done with this one.

Right now, I’m doing the thing in front of me -which is, apart from my nightly Camp NaNo pages, packing- and, at the same time, keeping an eye on the end goal. New apartment. Finished draft. New release. New notebook. (Hey, small perks can have big effects.) Later today, I’ll be viewing an apartment that is not only basically across the street from our current place, but the next door neighbor would be a takeout calzone restaurant. I will count that as an amenity.

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Typing With Wet Claws: Mostly Through March Edition

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Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Anty and I would like to say hello to our new readers. If you are new, you may not know that I, Skye, who am a kitty, blog for my Anty on Fridays. This is partly to help her out and partly because I take my duties as a mews very seriously. That means that I have to make sure she is doing what she needs to be doing, to get books written, so that she can share them with readers.

First of all, before I am allowed to talk about anything else (though let’s be real, it is mostly Anty’s writing  that I talk about, anyway) I have to tell readers where to find Anty’s writing on the interwebs this week, other than here. If you are reading this, you are already here, and do not need directions. As always, she was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday (that is the day after I blog, if you need a temporal landmark.) This week, she talked about experienced heroines. That post is here, and it looks like this:

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There is no frame around that picture, because I forgot. Also, I have special paws, and it is not always easy to hit the right keys. Pretend the frame is there, and that is almost the same thing.

Next comes the part where I bring readers up to date on Anty’s Goodreads challenge. Anty’s goal is to read ninety books by the end of the year, and have at least half of those be historical romance. Historical fiction with strong romantic elements also counts. As of this morning, Anty has read nineteen out of ninety books, which puts her at twenty-one percent of the way to her goal, and one book behind schedule. It is the weekend, though, so there is time to get back on track. I will also point out that, out of the top row of Anty’s read books, four out of the five are historical romance, so good job on that.

The book Anty read and reviewed this week, is this one:

 

Anty liked this book very much, and will start on its companion book, Lady ni White, very soon. Probably later tonight, actually. Once Anty is done with her Skye-athalon (he books, not the kitty) she will then embark on a Denise Domning binge. I think I will call that “Domning-nation,” because I like coming up with names for things. It is part of my job as a mews. Unless that is already the name of Miss Denise’s fan club. Then, I would have to think of something else.

Another part of being a mews is to make sure Anty lays the proper groundwork for upcoming projects. As she will be participating in this year’s April Camp NaNo session, she has about a week to get things ready for that. In case anybody was wondering what Anty’s brainstorms about creating a whole village look like, they look pretty much like this:

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Note: work in progress

 

Anty has added a few other things to the page since this picture was taken, including shading in the letters in the word, “village,” because shading letters is a very good way for Anty to procrastinate and still say that she is actually working. We will see how that goes. So far, she has figured out there is a road to the village (always helpful, for trade and expanding the gene pool, among other things) and some houses (I am highly in favor of living inside) and some natural things, like trees and water and maybe some mountains. She is not sure about the mountains yet.

That is okay, because this is not a story about mountains. Anty has not said, yet, if there are any cats in this book, but it does take place in a village where a lot of people work in grain fields, which means grain gets stored somewhere, which means mice and rats want to eat the grain, which means the humans do not want the mice and rats to eat the grain, so that means cats. If Anty needs a mice-catching consultant, I am ready to fill that role. I think that she might, because a new mousie game was on the glowy box today, and I tried it, and I did So Good that I got head scritches. I know whereof I speak.

In other news, I think one of the reasons Anty only finished one book this week (besides that it is a big book, over five hundred pages, but Anty considers that a good thing) is that Anty discovered a storytelling game on her phone, called Choices: Stories You Play, and she has been playing that kind of a lot. It is a fun game, and many of the stories are romances, or have romances (or chances for romance) in the, but they do not count toward her reading challenge.

That is kind of unfortunate, because Anty likes them a lot, but they also do another thing. They help her with plotting this new story, because, at several points in the game stories, there is a choice that the point of view character must make, and that will change certain things about the story. Sometimes, it is big, like which human the character would like to have as their mate, or it is sometimes something seemingly small, like what clothes to wear, but or where to sit, but they do turn out to be important later. in fight scenes, there are choices to dodge, or attack, or hide (I would probably always pick hide, because I am super good at hiding. Lie super, super good, as long as I remember to tuck in my tail.) These choices remind Anty that, when she is not sure what a character should do next, think of three possible things they could do, and then pick one. Maybe she will change it later, but, for a rough draft, what is important is to keep moving forward. In that, it is like when I lead her to my dish. Keep moving toward the goal, and good things await at the end.

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

skyebyenew

see you next week

Typing With Wet Claws: Pre-Skye-athalon Edition

annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. The sun is shining, the wind is blowing, the wind is blowing, and I am cute. Anty’s online workshop, Play In Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys, is winding to a close, although Anty could probably keep on going. She loves this sort of thing, and hopes to be able to offer the workshop again, soon. Next time, she will probably present it over a longer period of time, because two weeks goes a lot faster than one would think it might. Anty likes teaching these workshops, because it is fun to see ideas develop and learn more about what other people find inspiring. Personally, I like sunbeams, birdie sounds, and treats. Also Uncle. He is my favorite, and I love him the most.

One of the rules of this blog is that I am not allowed to talk about anything else (which is usually Anty’s writing, anyway) until I have brought readers up to date on where they can find Anty’s writing on the interwebs, besides here. People who are already here, do not need to know how to get here, because they are already here.

As usual, Anty was at Buried Under Romance on Saturday. This time, she talked about virgin heroines. That post is here, and it looks like this:

BURvirginheroines

Now is when I bring readers up to date on Anty’s Goodreads reading challenge.  As of today, Anty has read eighteen out of ninety books this year, which brings her to twenty percent of the way to her goal. Seven of those books are historical romance, historical fiction with romantic elements, or time travel romance, with action in the historical timeline.  Anty has started a historical fiction board at Goodreads. I will put a link in another post, when Anty has had a chance to put more books on that shelf.

The book Anty read and reviewed this week, is The Queen’s Lady, by Barbara Kyle. This was Anty’s first book by Miss Barbara, but it will not be her last. Miss Barbara’s Thornleigh saga is part of Anty’s so-called short list of twenty-seven books to read in the near future. This is not a historical romance, but historical fiction with romantic elements, but it is does have a strong heroine at the center of the story, and the action moves from England to Germany and other places, and it is based in the history of the time, which is one thing Anty very much likes in her historical romance and fiction. That review is here, and it looks like this:

GRKylethequeenslady

Now that Anty is done with this book, she is now free to start what she wanted to call her O’Malley-a-thon. I am renaming it the Skye-athalon, for obvious reasons. Anty picked out my name, because the first book in that series, Skye O’Malley, is her favorite historical romance. It also starts a series that is really two series, that are really one series. It is kind of complicated for a kitty to explain, but the books are by Bertrice Small who is also the first historical romance author Anty ever read. Anty does not have inside information on these books, but they are favorites of hers, and taking notes on her rereads of them will help her get a better handle on what she likes in a historical romance, and how she can bring her own work to the next level. When she is done with her Skye-athalon, then she will do the same thing with other books, by other writers.

I do not know how much of that Anty will want to share here, but, knowing Anty, she will say at least something. Anty will use her Hipster Kitty notebook to take her notes, and I will use its picture to indicate where updates on the Skye-athalon will be.

1902hipsterkitty

I think this is possibly the best notebook Anty has ever had, because it has a kitty on it, and because that kitty is stripey, like me, so it will remind her of me, and that I need treats and pets and for her to sing me my special song. If that doesn’t work, I will sit directly behind her and chirp until she turns around and looks at me. I could do that all night. Sometimes, I do.

Today, I need to be especially attentive to my mews duties, as Anty has a lot of writing to do. She did some outlining of A Moment Past Midnight, her Camp NaNo project. I will be keeping tabs on how Anty is doing, and report on that each week during Camp. Anty also gets to write her Buried Under Romance post, and then post to her workshop, because it is almost over. She may need some extra slow blinks to deal with that last one. Thankfully, I am the kitty for that job.

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

skyebye2018

 

Hogmanay, They Said

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We’re almost halfway through the month, which means Camp NaNo is only a smidge over two weeks away, and I need some idea of what ,my project is going to be. Since I’d wanted to write a Christmas story for a while now, that seemed like a good idea (insert N’s comment that it doesn’t have to be Christmas) but then there came two shadowy figures who drifted into my office, drew close, and whispered into my ear.

Them: Hogmanay.

Me: What?

Them: Hogmanay. It has to be.

Me: Oh it does, does it? Let’s see what our old friend, Google, has to say about that. Hm. Scots word, referring to the last day of the year. December thirty-first, then, still close enough to Christmas, caps off Christmas week, part of the whole twelve days thing. Okay, New Year’s Eve, I can do. I was going for more of a Christmas Eve kind of vibe, but endings, beginnings, I can work with that. We have to talk about the Scotland thing, though.

Them: ….

Me: Yeah, see, the last time I tried to write a Scottish story, it did not go well. Book down in flames, me creatively paralyzed, lots of crying. I mean, that was before your time, so you probably couldn’t have known about that, unless you had to go through the backburnered characters waiting room, in which case, who knows what you heard, but the whole Scotland thing…yeah, no.

Them: …

Me: I mean, Scotland is great, and all. Essential part of the British Isles. Great Britain. United Kingdom. Tartan. Bagpipes. Shortbread. Kilts. Neighbors. The closest neighbors when w moved into our first house, were Scots. I don’t remember my first impression of them, because I was nine months old, but, from about age four and onward, I remember them as lovely people. Um. Um. Hannah Howell. Now, there’s your gal for Highland stories. Not that all Scots are Highlanders. Far from it. Lowlands. Borders. The colonies. Pamela Clare sent her Scotsmen to the American colonies. She’s mostly doing contemporaries and romantic suspense these days, but I’m sure she’d–

Them: Hogmanay.

Me: :sigh:  You two aren’t going to budge on this one, are you?

Them: :both shake heads: Hogmanay.

Me: Fine. Have it your way. Hogmanay has to be the least romantic name of a holiday, ever, but sure. Hogmanay it is. Let’s see, what are we working with, here? Hm, first footing.  That sounds — oh, don’t look at me like that. I know what first footing is. Hm. I could work with that. Tall, dark-haired male, that’s pretty standard, so no problems there, but what if it was the wrong tall, dark-haired male? Huh. That could have potential. Gifts are involved. That’s pretty Christmassy. This could happen.

Word of warning, though. I am not creating an entire clan this time. That’s kind of ambitious. Says here, they have Hogmanay in northern England, too. Similar concept on the Isle of Man, even. So, theoretically, I could put this in a remote English village. I can give somebody a Scots parent, if we’re being particular about this whole Hogmanay thing. No chance I can turn this into a New Year’s Story, is there?

Them:  Hogmanay.

Me: Can you two say anything other than “Hogmanay?” If either of you answers that with “Hogmanay,” I am deleting your file. Okay, first, I have to create a file, but then I’m putting this entire conversation in it, and then deleting it. Anything else would be great, though. Names, what year it is where you come from. Name of the village; that would be good, too. How you two know each other, because you definitely know each other.

Them:  ….

Me: Why am I not surprised, here? I’m sitting here, in my office chair, candle burning, cherry seltzer at hand, I have an online workshop that needs my attention, and then you two wander in, and the only thing you have to say to me is the name of a holiday that is different from the holiday I actually intended to write about. Not giving me a lot to go on with an attitude like that. New Year’s Eve, basically, gifts, wrong dude at the door. Do I at least get to see your faces?

Them: Hogmanay.

Me: If you mean I actually have to wait until December thirty-first of this year (2018, by the way, in case we’re exchanging what year it is in our respective realities. Throwing that out there as an icebreaker. Feel free to reciprocate at any time.)  that is not going to work. I’m writing historical romance. Faces are going to come into play at some point.

Them: Hogm–

Me: Don’t say it. I get what you’re after. Your story plays out over Hogmanay. Fine. Here’s how this venture of ours is going to work. I’m going to head on over to Camp NaNo and create the project. I will, by choice or happenstance, be put into a cabin with other writers, hopefully of historical romance. You guys get a notebook, maybe a legal pad, and a pen. When the calendar flips over to April, I start writing. You guys have until then to get chatty, or I’m doing my own thing. Got it?

Them:  :both nod:

Me: Okay, then. Glad we had this conversation. You two do your part, I will do mine, and we’ll see what we have at the end of the month.

TheWriterIsOut

Typing With Wet Claws: I Do Not Play In Sandboxes Edition

annabowling 1 Comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. It is currently snowing here in New York’s Capitol Region, but I do not know if we will get as much snow this time, as we did a couple of days ago. On the one paw, I am an indoor kitty who sleeps in front of the heater (except for when I am sleeping near my humans’ beds, to make sure they are only sleeping and not actually dead, but on the other paw, weather can be unpredictable this time of year. Either way, it is good weather to stay inside and write, if you are a writer, or read, if you are a reader. I, personally, am a kitty, so I like taking naps in front of the heater, and listening to the sounds coming from Anty’s glowy box.

Before I talk about anything  else, which is usually Anty’s writing anyway, I have to tell where to find Anty’s writing, besides here, on the interwebs, this week. As usual, Anty was at Buried Under Romance, this past Saturday. Since March is International Women’s Month, Anty will be focusing on heroines in romance fiction. She starts off the month by asking what makes a romance heroine. That post is here, and it looks like this:

BURromanceheroine

Now is the part of the post where I bring everybody up to date with Anty’s Goodreads challenge. Her goal is to read ninety books this year, and to have at least fifty percent of that be historical romance. I have decided that I will allow historical fiction with strong romantic elements, and time travel romance, where at least some of the story takes place in the past. As of today, Anty is at nineteen percent of the way to her goal, having read seventeen out of ninety books. So far, six of those are historical romance. Still a ways to go, but that is good progress. Keep going, Anty.

The books Anty read and reviewed this week are:

 

 

Anty’s workshop, Play in Your Own Sandbox, Keep All The Toys, is in full swing, and Anty hopes that the people taking the workshop are having as much fun as she is, giving it. Personally, being a kitty, a sandbox is not something I would like to play in, and I do not want to keep or play with anything I might find (or put) in there,  (certainly not my toys)but I suppose it is different with humans. I prefer playing my mousie game on the glowy box, and batting at strips of paper that are left over from when Anty cuts fancy paper for her art things. Those things are the best. I get on my hind legs and then I  lift my paws and go batbatbatbatbatbatbat, Sometimes, I bite the paper strips, and, sometimes, I can even get the strips away from Anty. I am not that interested in the strips once I get them away from her,  because they stop moving, but, until then, it is super fun.

Do you know what else is fun? Reading is fun. Writing is also fun. Anty has been doing a lot of both lately, and she has figured out, more or less, what she would like to work on for her Camp NaNo story in April. By more or less, I mean she has a trope, and it may be more of a New Year’s story than a Christmas story, but she will have to do some research first. She also has to figure out what the setting of the story will be, and who, exactly, the characters are, but at least she has the seed of an idea, so we will see how that goes. It is probably about time for her to create her project, so that she can get into a good cabin. I will share more details on that as they become available, and keep readers apprised of Anty’s progress. We are almost halfway through the month, so the clock is ticking.

Today, while Anty washed a lot of laundry, she did not bring a book to read. Okay, she did bring her Kindle, and there is a Kindle app on her phone, but she did not read any of those things. Instead, she took out Big Pink, and a fineliner pen, and she wrote part of a scene for Her Last First Kiss. It was an out of order scene, but that is okay, because Anty is what writer humans call a puzzler. She likes to work on one bit of something over here, one bit of something over there, something else in this other place, and then smush them all together, in the right order, when she is done. Because she did this writing on the detachable pages from Big Pink, she will need to tear those out and attach them to the pretty legal pad she wrote the start of the scene on, and then transcribe it all into her glowy box, then print it, so that she can show it to Miss N. That means that one of the humans has to get the printer working again, since it was on the old modem, and we now have a new, faster one. This may have exciting ramifications for my mousie game, but the humans are more concerned with printing things like Anty’s stories.

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

skyebye2018