Why Historical Romance?

January 11, 2017January 11, 2017annabowling 2 Comments

Hi. My name is Anna, and I write historical and historical-adjacent romance. We’ll get to the adjacent part in a minute. Right now, I want to focus on the big picture. Why historical romance? My first instinct is that I was hardwired that way. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t drawn to times before living memory, though I will grant that, when one is five or so, everything falls into that category, by default. As for the romance part of things, I think I was hardwired for that, as well, because my favorite stories were always the fairy tales with a romance plot to them, even long before I had any inkling that the opposite sex could be anything even remotely close to appealing. I also preferred the more arguably obscure fairy tales, like “Donkeyskin” to any of the Disney versions (Sorry, Walt) and checked out an entire spectrum of Andrew Lang’s fairy tale collections (and wee princess me is now all, “hold on, there are more beyond the color-themed books? I must have them!” because, of course, I must.)

Though I didn’t know the concept of shipping back then, (again, five) in retrospect, I shipped Greek, Roman and Norse gods and goddesses, cartoon characters, and couples in fairy tales and folklore. I’ve often wondered if my birth mother liked romance fiction, too, if, maybe, we’ve ever read and loved any of the same books. I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe romance, and storytelling, really is in my blood. I’ve written before about how much fun it is to listen to SF/F fans and writers talk about how they fell in love with their genre of choice, hear their origin stories, as it were, and I would love to shine more light on that same experience with readers and writers of romance, particularly historical. Let’s face it, historical romance rocks.

In the same book, we get a peek into the past, the chance to step into a world that we know existed (because, duh, history; we’ve got proof) and a story literally as old as time, and we know that there’s going to be a happily ever after at the end (or a happy for now, in serialized works) but the big question is…how? We know things weren’t as easy for those in the past as they are now; indoor plumbing is a relatively recent invention, and modern medical advances keep a lot of us on the right side of the dirt. That’s not even taking into account things like the internet, gummi bears, and Sephora. I love all of those things, and I’m glad I have them in my life, but when I’m going to dive into story world, nothing is ever going to do it the way historical romance does.

Whether or not actual historical figures come into play, the historical world is critical to the historical romance. How does the time in which these lovers lived affect their falling in love, and their chances for a future together? For my money, it’s not possible to take a couple from Ancient Rome, for example, plop them down in 1901 Texas, and have their love story play out exactly the same way. It can’t. The pieces of the puzzle are completely different, and yet, the objective is the same; finding that one person with whom they want to spend the rest of their lives and then making that happen, no matter what obstacles stand in their way. I’d be hard pressed to find a type of story I find more empowering than that. I can’t even count all the possible variations of setting, era, character type, plot trope, and a million other variables, all of which can be combined in countless ways. It really never is the same story twice.

Right now, those of us in the US, and elsewhere, but I’m in the US, so that’s where I can speak with most authenticity, live in interesting times. Since current events do affect writing and reading trends, I have asked myself if we’re headed for a surge in historical romance. A break from modern life may be exactly what some of us need to restore our resources, live a few adventures and come back, entertained and empowered, to handle the business of day to day life. Which, I should mention, is exactly what the heroes and heroines of historical romances are doing. They don’t know they’re in a historical; they think they’re in a contemporary, because Restoration England, or the American Civil War, Harlem Renaissance, etc? Those are their nows. They don’t know how their current events are going to turn out, if the war is going to go their way, if life will ever be the same again after disease or disaster upsets the routine they’ve always known up to that point. What they do know, however?

They do know love. They know, by the end of the book, that, whatever life throws at them from here on out, they won’t be facing it alone. They have someone by their side who is going to take them exactly as they are, for better and for worse, and they’re going to face it together. That sounds like a pretty good deal to me, and that’s why I do what I do.

Why Historical Romance?

January 11, 2017annabowling Leave a comment

Cold Day and Another Week Begun

January 9, 2017annabowling Leave a comment

Second week of 2017 underway over here. Well, underway everywhere, but I can only talk about my own experience. This was a full weekend, with volunteer training, domestic warrior queen duties, one of which reminded me why I do not do laundry on Sunday evenings. The alternative to Sunday evening laundry, in this case, was naked family. Since we live in New York, and it is January, outdoor nudity is not an option, so Sunday night laundry it was. I had my phone and my Kindle, and a couple of hours, more or less, to let my brain get things somewhat in order for the week ahead.

On Saturday, I had my (first) fierce cheerleading session with Eryka Peskin, which I would highly recommend. It’s kind of weird to have an appointment where the entire purpose is to have someone tell one how awesome one is and point out what one is doing right, and it’s kind of weird that it’s kind of weird. Yes, I did take notes, and yes, I did post them on the back of my office door, where I can see them any time I need a reminder. If I write something down longhand, it’s much more likely to stay in my noggin than if I try to remember without, or if I go directly to keyboard. I’ve been learning a lot more, lately, about how my brain works, and how going with that, rather than fighting it, is going to work better for me in the long (and short) term.

This morning, I got up at six, which is about right for me, still wiped from the weekend -I’d intended to use it to rest, but that is not what happened- and determined to get the most out of my day. There’s a ticking clock on one important task, that of my Her Last First Kiss second draft, the scene where Hero and his brother…well, we’ll save that for later. What matters is that I need to show these pages to N at 8AM tomorrow. I know myself well enough that I have to pump the handle a few times before thing start flowing, and I know that I’m going to have to get this draft done by about 3PM, because that’s when I can bribe Housemate to ferry me to the library to get things printed. I still haven’t figured out where the heck the printer is jammed, so printing on the road is how it is until we get that sorted.

One of the first things I did was jot down a list of tasks for the day, on a piece of grocery list paper, but that didn’t look right. It had all of the information, but the visuals? Meh. I can do better. I rescued a magenta softcover Markings notebook, with grid pages, from limbo, and laid out what has to get done today. Is this bullet journaling? Am I doing it already? I’ve tried reading explanations/instructions, but my eyes glaze over and/or I get confused. I’ve been doing whatever this is for a while now, and if a thing is on the list, the thing is going to get done.

Mini legal pad is not part of the notebook, but it’s pretty.

I keep the office door propped open if it’s okay to talk to me. This was my view for a good chunk of the early morning:

We start on the linoleum…

…and onto the hardwood

Skye hates my office carpet. Hates it. I’m pretty sure she wants me to get rid of it, so she can come all the way into the room and sit next to my feet. There is one sliver of hardwood available for kitty bottom, when the door is open, and she has found a way to wedge herself into it. Normally, she’ll sit in the kitchen, on the linoleum, and stare at me until I get the message (that I should pay attention to her, not the glowy box or my papers) but, this morning, she crossed the line. Over the threshold and onto the hardwood. Not a single toe on the carpet. She has her standards.

The clock is ticking down now, and time approaches when it’s going to be me, Hero, and Hero’s Bro. There’s a small hand squeezing around my heart, with pointy fingernails, a whisper in my ear that this is scary stuff, but there’s also a list on my door of things that I am doing right, to remind me I’ve been here before, and I did it okay. More than okay. Awesome. No, I do not want to go out in sixteen degree weather to print pages, but N needs pages for tomorrow, and, more importantly, Hero needs this scene to get to second draft, so that’s what’s going to happen. I mean, I can’t leave him there in first draft land. Besides, when I get on the other side of this, I get to talk about what I’ve written, get feedback, and move on to the next scene. But, first, this. Clear the decks of the other tasks so there’s nothing cluttering my mind when it’s time to dive into century eighteen, and turn the metaphorical thumbscrews on Hero. He’s not going to like that, not one bit, but it has to be enough to send him out of everything he’s ever known, and on the path to his future. Kind of like the writing of same. At least I’m in good company.

Typing With Wet Claws: This Is the New Year Edition

January 6, 2017annabowling 1 Comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. I did not want my picture taken today, so I tried to hide under my mama’s bed, but Anty was too smart for me and caught me before I could. That is why I look grumpy in this picture. My revenge, though, besides looking grumpy, was that the lighting was very very dim, so Anty had to use all of her photo editing skills (she does not have a lot of them yet, but enough to be dangerous) to make sure the photo showed an actual kitty, and not only the black square that showed in the preview on her phone. Then she had to send the photo from her phone to the computer, which took some time. By the time it arrived, I was in the living room, sitting very nicely in a sunbeam in the middle of the floor. I believe this means I have successfully catted today, and deserve treats for my trouble.

Speaking of trouble, there is more of that, but I am not allowed to talk about it until I have talked about what Anty has written so far this week. So be it. Anty started off the new year (actually, ended the old one, because her posts on this site run on Saturdays, and this Saturday was New Year’s Eve, so not the new year yet) at Buried Under Romance by talking about reading resolutions. My resolution is to make Anty get rid of the carpet in her office, so that I can come inside and sit right next to her while she is writing or reading. Humans, especially those who do not live in our apartment, probably have different ones. That post is here, and it looks like this:

Anty also put a review on Goodreads, for the historical romance anthology, Christmas in America. That review is here, and it looks like this:

This book had some surprises for Anty, besides finding new authors whose other works she would like to read. One of those surprises was a funny one. After Anty wrote her review, Goodreads asked her if she would like to recommend the book to any of her friends. Since Anty liked the book very much, she did want to recommend it, and the site made some suggestions. Here is one of them:

Anty thought that was funny, because Miss Piper wrote part of that book, so I think it is safe to say she already knows about it. (Anty checked; Miss Piper does.) I did not have permission from the other readers to post their names, so I blacked those out. I hope that is okay. Anty is now reading another book of Miss Piper’s, The Lawyer’s Luck, because she liked the story anthology so much, that she had to check and see where the stories in that world started. Anty already has a lot of books on her to be read list, but she does not mind adding more. Reading really, really good books is one way for writers to keep their wells filled and stay excited about the genre in which they write.

So far this year, Anty has been doing well on the writing front. She is using her planner to keep to a schedule. If she sees the tasks she has for the day, and for the week, written down, she is more likely to make sure that she accomplishes them. That is very helpful when life gets changey. It is getting changey over here because the building where our apartment is will be changing owners soon. That means that, because Anty works from home, she is there during the day, and can let in the realtor humans and their clients. It also means that I do a lot of hiding under the beds, because I do not like strangers coming into my home. I kind of know Landlady, though (the human who owns the building now) and, sometimes, I will come out if she is there. She tells me I am a good kitty. I think Landlady is very observant.

One other thing Anty is doing to keep her creative well filled is to listen to a lot of musical theatre, because musical theater songs tell stories. When she finds a composer/lyricist she especially likes, then she tracks down as much of their work as she can find and watches different performances of it. Her most recent find is Drew Gasparini, who wrote a song, “Disaster,” that Anty has been listening to, a lot. I mean so much that I think I know all the words to it. She recently found a video where Mr. Gasparini gives some advice to songwriters, and Anty thinks it applies to other kinds of writers, too. She was going to put a quote in her blog, but did not know where to cut it, so she asked if I could show everybody the whole thing. If there are gentle readers, or human kittens in the room, the actual song has some language that is only for grownups, but the talking, which comes first, does not.

Sometimes, it can be scary for a writer to throw everything on the page and let it bleed, but it can also be tiring to hold back. It is an interesting process to learn how to push past that scariness, but if that is what the story demands, then that is what Anty wants to do. That is what Anty wants to put into her stories. Critique partners can help keep Anty on track with that. At least that is the plan. Tomorrow, Anty will talk with Miss Eryka, to focus on some ways she can make sure that is exactly what she does.

The stranger humans came while I was in the middle of writing this entry, so I hid under Anty and Uncle’s bed. Anty had to lure me out with treat, which was not really extra, because it was my treat time anyway. I am not sure if this means I need yet more treat to make up for that. Anyway, 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)

The Year So Far

January 4, 2017annabowling 2 Comments

Maybe three days is a wee bit soon to be looking at a year in review, but maybe it’s also a good way to make sure things are going according to plan. Monday, I planned my day to a fare-thee-well, though I did not put “take picture of planner page” on my to-do list, and my phone is, at the moment, at the other end of the house, so you’re going to have to take my word on that one. Having all my tasks laid out in advance actually felt like a huge relief. My critique session with N, on Tuesday, was right there, so, by gum, I was going to have pages to hand in to her.

Never mind that, as soon as I opened the file, the scene told me it wanted to open differently than the way I had it, and I didn’t have the description of the room right -I’d picked the wrong details, as one often does in a first draft- and this could be so much better. Cue furious typing, followed by furious backspacing, followed by more furious typing, followed by the uttering of indelicate language when Housemate’s arrival marked the end of the session, and it was time to wrap things up so we could head to the library to print (because I have reached the end of my abilities in trying to find what the heck the printer wants before it will cough up my pages, and it is now time to call in the pros.) Which is when we remembered the library would be closed, for the holiday. No problem, off to Staples we went. Awesome worker saw they were manuscript pages and told me not to worry about the cost. I take this as a sign. (Probably that she needed to help another customer, but allow me my moment.)

Back when I lived in the Old Country, and attended a weekly critique group, when a crit went especially well, I would spend the ride home feeling as though I were flying. The same thing would happen when a once-upon-a-time friend and I would critique through snail mail. That this is why I am alive feeling, that isn’t followed by I’ll never do this or everybody else is better than me, but by mental self-fives and victory laps and a desire to do nothing else but get right back to that story as soon as humanly possible and go, go, go. That one. I had it again. Good feedback from N, who also has the start of a most excellent romance novel her own self, and it left me with that flying feeling, a good thing to have when I walked into a small domestic tornado, but no biggie. I got story going on here. Well, stories, but that’s not the important part.

The important part happened Monday afternoon, when I realized I’d missed a big opportunity to make Hero’s first appearance show who he was when the story started, and I had a ticking clock on how much time I had in which to fix that. Which is when the whole brain outlook thing shifts and forget everything else; I am fixing this scene clicks into place. The thing where the writer growls at family members who dare to interrupt, where “yes” or “no” both get substituted with “when I’m done with this scene.” Because, at that moment, the real world is that scene. I like when that happens.

Something else happened this week. When I checked yesterday’s mail, I found this literally on my doorstep:

That sound is my heart going pitty-pat, because Beatriz Williams is one of my all-time favorite authors, and this is an ARC of her newest trip back to the 1920s (and 90s,) The Wicked City. Double pitty-pat, because, along with the gorgeous period-perfect (these books are my historical verisimilitude goals) postcards, was a personal note:

I still haven’t decided if this is going in an art journal or in a frame on my office wall, but it’s inspiration in more ways than one. My very first exposure to the historical romance genre was Bertrice Small. Before her marriage to George Small, Bertrice Small was Bertrice Williams. I know there’s no connection. (Maybe Beatriz Williams read a Bertrice Small novel at some point; I don’t know. Maybe she hasn’t.) Beatriz is a form of the name Beatrice (I am also a name nerd in addition to being a historical romance nerd; I have been collecting name books since I was eight) and Bertrice is a created name, to honor one of that esteemed lady’s beloved relatives. There’s not a connection, but there is, for me.

Both women are authors whose storytelling and ability to make the historical eras in which they write feel as real and immediate as the modern day. They do/have done what I want to do, give readers an entire world, populated by people of its time, and make them feel the story in a real and visceral manner, rather than observe it from afar. Like I said, goals. The name nerd in me likes that the two names are similar, and having a personal note, well, that’s extra special. Pretty sure, now, that this baby is going on the wall, over my desk, so I can see it every day.

Three days into the new year, I have a system in place that lets me know what I’m doing and the time I have in which to accomplish it. I don’t have to write a whole book (and a half) at one time, only this one scene, and I have my list of things the scene has to do, right here at hand. So far, so good. Now for the next 362 days.

Waiting on Wise (Wo)men

January 2, 2017annabowling 2 Comments

Technically, it is still Christmas until January 6th, but it’s the first Monday of the new year, and that seems like the perfect time to jump back into the daily routine, beginning as I mean to go on. New year, new chances, and all of that. I like the idea of a clean slate. It fits into my clean sweep/more layers mindset, and now it’s time to draw from that well that the tucked-away week filled.

This time last year, I did not have a new planner to move into on the first of the year, and I don’t have one to move into this year, either, but for a different reason. This year, I picked up a seventeen-month planner (how have I managed to ignore these things until now?) so I moved into the new planner in the summer, and am starting the year off by using the stuffing out of this one. The pen for this book is actually a Sharpie liquid pencil (another thing I had no idea existed until recently) and, so far, it’s working. I have long since accepted that I am a planner. I want, even need, to know what I’m doing, and when I’m doing it. Then, within those boundaries, I can run wild. Hey, it works.

So, what does the new year hold? For one thing, lots of historical romance. Actually, that would be two things, as I mean both reading and writing my favorite genre. Last year, I set my Goodreads reading goal at fifty books. I actually read eighty-nine, so this year’s goal is ninety. I have one down so far, and should be finishing at least one more in the next day or two. The way I figure it, if I read two books each week, allowing two weeks for dry spells/rest/deadline crunches, I’m going to be sitting pretty in the reading department.

Writingwise, this is the year. The last ten have been a wild ride, which could be a book in itself, but I don’t write horror. What I do write is historical romance, and, with Melva Michaelian, historical-adjacent romance. Since I work best with regular feedback, it’s my responsibility to make sure I get exactly that. Today, I will work on the next draft of chapter two of Her Last First Kiss, which I need to turn in to N tomorrow morning. She, in turn, will have pages from her WIP to show me, and the plan is to read and comment on the spot. N asked me to bring printed pages rather than sending in email ahead of time. This is out of my comfort zone, as it will require me to A) figure out WTF is jamming my nifty awesome printer that will not print, or B) hie myself to library or office supply store to print on their devices. Probably B) and then A, but the point is that this is stretching, which is what I want.

Thanks to the RWA critique partner matching registry, I have a good lead on a historical romance critique partner. Not only do we share common interests within the genre, but in other things as well, and even prefer similar historical periods. Next step is exchanging sample chapters and seeing if we are indeed the good fit it looks like we may be, and then onward we go. If I’m being held accountable and receiving regular feedback, it’s a lot harder to tell myself nobody cares, or I’m not making a difference. Maybe the benefits of external validation have something to do with being an extrovert, maybe not, but this feels good. It feels right. It feels as though a piece of the puzzle that got knocked loose during the last ten years is fitting back into place. I like that.

While I was writing this entry, I got a notice I had new email, which, of course, I had to check, because A) I am me, and B) email fits into my social media time, and I am darned shooting sure going to stick to what’s on my schedule on the very first day of having said schedule (seriously, this planner works with the way my brain works, but more on that later.) What was said email? Notice that I had won a Fierce Cheerleading session with abundance coach, Eryka Peskin (who is super awesome, and if you have a chance to be in on one of her challenges, I highly encourage you to take it.)

This morning, I had another notice, on Goodreads, that a new group had been formed, dedicated to the love of historical romance and fiction set in one of my favorite eras, the seventeenth century. That’s the setting for my Orphans in the Storm, and one hundred percent a setting I plan to use again, maybe soon. That’s because my next goal, after finishing both Her Last First Kiss and the Beach Ball in 2017, I need to look farther down the road and decide what’s coming next. Sitting down in front of a blank screen doesn’t work for me, so that means I need to put some feelers out there and see what I’m going to be writing next, after these two couples find their happily ever afters. Because writing historical romance? That’s my HEA. Okay, that and Real Life Romance Hero, because he has truly earned the title, but this is the year to be a little (or a lot) less “Grace Kelly” (though the party in the video does look awfully fun):

and more in the spirit of this ditty below (language may not be for gentle readers or little ones in the room):

This year, I don’t feel a letdown at the end of the tucked-away week, like I have in the past. 2017 is the year I get to cross “present at NECRWA’s annual conference” off my bucket list, and I could not be in better company than my co-presenters, Corrina Lawson and Rhonda Lane. It is still Christmas until January 6th, what my father called Three Kings’ Day, which others may know as Epiphany, or the celebration of the wise men arriving at one very special manger. This year, my planner has “ornament harvest” where “take down tree” used to go, because, this year, I’m looking at the new season differently. I think I’m going to like the view from here.

Typing With Wet Claws: New Year’s Eve Eve Edition

December 30, 2016annabowling 2 Comments

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday, the last one of 2016. This has been -well, it still is, because it is not over yet- Anty’s tucked away week, and it is going pretty well, all thing considered. Anty likes to use this time to collect herself and rest and refill her creative well, so that she can come into the new year at her best. So far, so good. Right now, it is snowing, which is Anty’s favorite weather of all time. Anty loves snow, so it makes her very happy to have some during her favorite week of the year.

Even though Anty likes to relax during her tucked away week, that does not mean she does not write things. She has actually been doing a fair amount of writing things. Let me share some of them with you. First, as always, she is at Buried Under Romance, and this time, she is talking about favorite holiday reads. One reader who commented is reading the holiday book that is up next on Anty’s list. Anty will take that as a recommendation. The post is here and it looks like this:

Anty has been doing a lot of reading during this tucked away week, which was her plan all along, so that is a good thing. It is also part of her plan to share her reviews on Goodreads more. This week, she posted four of them. That is a lot for a kitty to screencap, but I will do my best. There will only be three pictures, because Anty forgot to write a review for one of them. Oops. I apologize on her behalf (also for the greatest hits photo of me, because A) I am camera shy today, B) Anty has a lot to do, even if it is tucked away week, and C) the spare picture of me she had in reserve in case I was camera shy, which I am today, is stuck in a Gmail queue and won’t send, so you get this one again.)

Anty’s review for A Pirate for Christmas, by Anna Campbell is here, and it looks like this:

Her review for The Fox and The Angel, by Danelle Harmon, is here, and it looks like this:

Her review for We Know It Was You, by Maggie Thrash, is here, and it looks like this:

Anty also read What Light, by Jay Asher, but she has not written a review for that one yet. I do not know why, because it has romance and a troubled hero and it is set in the world of Christmas trees. She will probably get to that later, because leaving reviews is not only good for the reader, or for other readers, but for the author as well. If you have read any of Anty’s books and would like to leave a review, her “I Wrote It” shelf is here

Now that it is New Year’s Eve Eve, the day before the last day of the entire year, Anty’s focus begins a shift from relaxation toward action. That means she is looking at what she can do when the new year begins. Normally, she and Mama (and sometimes Uncle, if he has the time off from work) get in the car and go a long way, to spend the day with some friends at a book swap. Humans do not have to bring a book to the party (Anty always does. Sometimes, she brings a lot.) but that party got postponed this year, so it will happen at another time. That means a couple of things.

First, it means that Anty does not have to go away, and she can spend all day home with me. I think that is a reason to celebrate right there. Anty will probably leave the house at some point, because, although I fill her kitty meter, she also has to fill her people meter. That is okay, though, because I know she will come home. The other thing that Anty spending the day here instead of away will mean, is that she needs to come up with a plan for how she is going to spend that day.

Anty does well with plans. She likes plans. That is one of the reason she collects notebooks, so that she can plan things out in them, and write about what she is going to write, before she writes it. Trust me, if she tries to skip that step, it will not turn out well for anybody. Since Anty has not spent any time with Netflix yet this week, she will probably watch at least one movie on New Year’s Day. She has not decided which one yet, or maybe some special episodes of a favorite TV show or two. What is important is that she need to take in story, so that she can put out story.

This is especially important because of something she will be starting this week. This week, Anty and Miss N are putting themselves on a schedule, or having pages to show to each other every week. Back when we lived in the old country, Anty met every week with Anty Melva and Anty Michele, and Anty knew that, when Wednesday night came along, she had better have some pages, and she made sure that she did. Anty does very well with outside pressure like that. I would not recommend getting too close to her if it is a couple of hours before critique time and she does not have her pages yet, because she gets snarly when she does all that furious typing stuff. Better to wait that out under the bed or somewhere else that is safe like that. When things get to that point, all she cares about is getting the pages ready for her critique partners to see, so best to leave her alone and let her get that done, if you want to end the day with the same amount of body parts you had when you got up that morning.

Anty is also still on the hunt for a historical romance critique partner, someone who reads historical romance and writes it, and loves it the very, very mostestest. The way she figures it, she misses one hundred percent of the shots she does not take, so she is going to be very noisy about that for a while. By “for a while,” I mean until she finds a historical romance critique partner, so if you do not want to keep hearing about that, please consider spreading the word, or getting in touch, if you want one, too.

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

Until next week…

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

There Are No Reading Police

December 28, 2016annabowling Leave a comment

I had plans for today’s blog entry, and I am going to ignore most of them. Apparently, the fact that I have them is enough for me to dive in with some measure of confidence, so will file that away for future use. Today, I’m snappish and grumpy, which is a sign of not enough sleep and feeling crowded, so, after I get this off my plate, it is time for a big ol’ mug of tea and some time in Sims 4. First, though, you get this.

Yesterday, Housemate and I went to the library. I headed straight to the romance section, and, within minutes, had my arms full of these:

“Nothing to read” will never be one of my problems.

Okay, not all of these. The last four. Use On the Jellicoe Road as the dividing line. That’s my third time trying to get into that one, and this time, I am going to make it. I get bogged down in the first fifty pages, but I’ve been told it’s worth it to make it through, so this is the time. :raises fist to sky (not Skye) for emphasis: That was another trip, though. This one was only for romance novels. One anthology, What Happens Under The Mistletoe, because I am helpless in the face of Christmas anthologies during the tucked away week (I am reading one right now on my Kindle, as a matter of fact) and it jumped off the shelf, recognizing its mistress. Okay, I saw Meredith Duran’s name on the cover. That helped. The Highlander, by Kerrigan Byrne, whose voice and use of emotion made me weep when I first discovered her, and the latest two installments in Elizabeth Hoyt’s Maiden Lane story world. (A book for Alf, finally, at last, pace yourself, girl, you have to read the other one first.) Respectable hunting trip, this one, especially as I hadn’t been expecting to take home anything at all, but that’s how these things tend to go this time of year.

My first thought, when I walked out of the library with four books in my bag was, “wow, their security is lax.” Uhhh, no, that wasn’t it. Don’t steal library books. Check them out. My actual first thought was “I have no right taking out four new books.” Because I have a full TBR shelf at home. Because I have a fully loaded Kindle. Because I have a storage unit with oodles of books in it. Because I have books yet to read for posts I am committed to write for other sites. because I am behind, oh woe, so behiiiiiind (please read that last word with an echo, if you can) on my own writing, as well as reading goals. Because a million things, really, but then my second thought cut off my first one.

My second thought was, “forget that. I have every right.” I have every right to read whatever books I want, whenever I want to read them. I have every right to drown myself in historical romance, should I want to do so (and I totally do) and gobble more, more, more, more, until it oozes out of my pores and onto the pages I create. There are no reading police (and, if there are, I do not recognize their authority.) Read what you want, when you want, however you want it. Nobody else has to like it. Probably, nobody else cares. Maybe those who follow me on Goodreads (I’m here) or read my posts on this blog and other sites, but that’s it.

There are no reading police. Whatever genre you love, great. Read it. Breathe it. Gobble it. Swim in it. While I stood there in the romance section, a trio of teenage girls stood behind me, in a nearby section, giggling over how silly the books in that section were to them, to the point of grabbing books and giving each other playful shoves. Even with all that, they left with at least one book, even if it looked “dumb” to them, or if they wanted others to think they found that sort of book beneath them. Part of me wanted to turn around, take the “dumb” book from them, flip it over to read the blurb, and say it looked interesting; I’d take it if they didn’t want it.

I didn’t do that, as A) I had enough books of my own, and wanted to get home and decide in which order to read them (hint: it’s depicted in the image above) and B) hey, these young women are reading. When I was their age, I lived with a single father, who was adamantly against the romance genre on principle, but it called to me and I answered the call, and have never regretted that for one single second. I remember what it was like to sneak around the library, tucking what historical romances I could find from the spinner racks under my arm. I don’t know these young women, I don’t know what brought them to that section, if this is a new genre they are exploring, or one they already love, but think others might form opinions of them for it. I don’t know what the “dumb” book is, or if they really do read books to mock them, but I do know how I felt, walking downstairs with my own carefully chosen haul.

I felt more complete, as though I’d gone to the shelf, found pieces of myself that I’d been missing, and put them back into place. Maybe that’s what these young women were doing, whether they knew it or not. It’s none of my business what they read or why they read it (unless they are reading my books,. which they totally should do, because there’s a new Kat Von D palette at Sephora, but that’s beside the point) but I’m glad they were there. Read on, heroines of tomorrow. Whatever the heck you want.

Boxing Day Blather

December 26, 2016December 26, 2016annabowling 2 Comments

Day after Christmas, and I missed the opportunity to cue “Brick,” by Ben Folds, at exactly six AM, which is kind of a tradition with me, but the world has not ended, so I think that is a good thing. We are now officially in my favorite week of the year, the tucked away week, between Christmas and New Year’s Day. Time for reflecting and refilling -I am currently watching a favorite movie, Music and Lyrics, which fits in nicely with the whole reflecting thing and new beginnings thing, the whole romance thing, and very much the whole writing thing in general, as well as the whole picking oneself up and getting back in the game thing.

That’s a lot of things, which makes it a good choice to fill the post-holiday space. Right now, I am under a comfy blanket, full of delicious chopped steak and cheesy baked potato, hot chocolate and salted caramel chip cookies waiting for me on the other side of this entry. I very strongly prefer to have some idea of what I’m going to write when I begin a blog entry, but I’d also like to get stronger at the entries where I need to wing it. Those are always going to happen, so I may as well find a way to have fun with them, make them more interesting to write, and, hopefully, to read.

Boxing Day, as we do it, is a day for relaxing, staying out of the demands of everyday life, so that, when it’s time to go back, we’re refreshed and ready to take on the new year. This year, my emphasis is specifically on writing. Which means that I need to take in stories, in whatever forms I can get them -TV, movies, books, music, gameplay- and get that creative well filled. What works for me, and why? What doesn’t, and why doesn’t it? It also means I need to do other creative things that don’t involve writing. Baking cookies works well on this front, as does making art, in whatever form. I’ve noticed that I haven’t been making a lot of art lately, and that needs to change, as it’s an intrinsic piece of the puzzle.

Back when I was ten, my Christmas haul included two books: Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume, and Harriet the Spy, by Louise Fitzhugh. I felt insanely rich, getting two books at the same time, and spent what felt like a really long time ensconced in my dad’s yellow armchair, trying to decide which one to read first. That was one hard decision, and it did not occur to me at the time that I could read both at once, alternating chapters, or moving between them at will, but hey, I was ten. What I do remember is that I spent most of the rest of that day reading one, and tore into the other as soon as I was finished. Probably not my first chain-read, and very much not my last, but when I think of Christmas and Boxing Day and books, that’s the image that comes most readily to mind.

I still remember Margaret and Harriet after all these years. Margaret was at the age where she’d started to discover an interest in boys, while Harriet had other concerns. Neither book was a romance, and it would be about a year before I would sneak The Kadin from my mother’s nightstand, so I had not yet discovered the romance genre or imprinted upon it. Still, I gravitated toward fairy tales that were both on the darker side and had love stories that turned out well for both parties. That hasn’t changed, which may be why I am hunkered down in long-sleeved t-shirt and pajama pants, watching a love story, writing about writing love stories, with paperback and Kindle at hand. Kindle, of course, chockablock full of romance novels, the vast majority of which are historical.

Today marks a week of tucking in with love stories, wherever they might lurk. Going over the good parts -in Music and Lyrics, for instance, the scene at the amusement park, where Sophie convinces Alex to go onstage and perform the encore he doesn’t want to perform, because he is a grumpy old badger. She slips into the crowd and goes all fangirl on him, waving her flip phone (does that make it a period piece now?) and swaying to the music, and darned if she doesn’t coax the performance out of him.

That’s a huge part of what the tucked away week is for, this year. I love the romance genre, a place where the only rules -the only ones- are that the love story has to be central, and the ending optimistic; happily ever after, in most cases, or happy for now (possibly for younger protagonists and/or grumpy badgers.) I tend to go for the first version, but even that’s not all rainbows and unicorns. I write historical romance, so we know that stuff is going to be coming for the lovers in my books; wars, natural disasters, state of the art eighteenth century medical technology and all that fun stuff, but the important thing is that the lovers are going to have each other, so they can take on whatever comes their way in the future. They’ll be together, and that’s enough. Which means immersing myself in romance is a pretty darned good way to wrap up the year, as well as start out the new one.

For today, it’s movies, books, hot beverages, baked goods, Christmas lights, and a dedicated mews (with occasional breaks to play bubbles with her, but I’ll let her talk about that in her next blog.) to keep me on track.

Typing With Wet Claws: Christmas Eve Eve Edition

December 23, 2016December 23, 2016annabowling Leave a comment

Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. Today is Christmas Eve Eve, the day before the day before Anty’s favorite day of the year. it is also the birthday of a fictional character that has lived in her head a really, really long time and probably wants to get into a book at some point. Anty thinks about things like this a lot. Today, Uncle is helping me hold still for my picture because I kept moving around when Anty tried to get the picture. I did not mind much, because that meant I got Uncle scritches. He gives the very best ones, because he is my Uncle.

Before I talk about anything else, like the fact that I peed on my catnip mouse -I did not actually pee on the mouse, but it did sustain collateral damage. I will talk about that later.- I have to talk about what Anty wrote this week, because that is our deal. As always, Anty has her Saturday Discussion post at Buried Under Romance. This week, her topic was the big books, the ones that don’t have to go on a coffee table because they could be the coffee table, they are that thick. Unless they are e-books, then they are a file, and I do not know of any coffee tables that are files. Except fot the ones in the Sims games, because those whole worlds are files. I think. Anyway, Anty’s post is here, and it looks like this:

Anty likes big books and she cannot lie…

Speaking of big books, Anty read a couple more this week, and then wrote about them on Goodreads. One of those books was The Twelve Days of Dash and Lily, by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan. It is a YA book, and the sequel to Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares, which is one of Anty’s all time favorite YA books, and one of her favorite Christmas books, which means she was very happy to learn that this book existed, and even happier to read it. Her review can be found here, and it looks like this:

Anty also read Dark Champion, by Jo Beverley, which is a medieval historical romance. Jo Beverley only wrote four medieval novels. Most of her other books are Georgian, which Anty loves, and Regency, which is very popular, so having these medieval is a real treat for Anty. You can read her review here, and it looks like this:

Anty has also been working on her own books, of course, but I am not allowed to post parts of those here. That is for after they are done and published. Then that would be called “excerpts.” Writers like when people (and kitties, I assume) share excerpts of their work. Maybe I can do that with the books Anty already has out, in the new year.

Right now, it is still the old year, and Anty is getting ready to celebrate all that comes along with that, for humans and kitties alike. This is the part where I can talk about whatever I want. I will start with the catnip mouse part. Regular readers will know that I have special paws, so I do not climb or jump (I am okay, though, and I can walk and run and play perfectly fine.) I do not like to use a litterbox, because I do not like the sides, so I picked a special spot on the floor to do my liquid stuff, and that is the only place I do it. Ever. I am very consistent about that.

Because the house we live in was built a very, very long time ago, (if Anty wrote a book set in the year our house was built, it would count as a historical) the floors slant, and, sometimes, when I make my liquid stuff, it flows in a downward direction. That is what happened this time, and, this time, the catnip mousie Anty got me got caught in the flow. This was not a big deal to me, because I do not care about catnip, and I do not care about toys that do not move. If a toy is moving, the it is fun to catch it. If it is not, then meh. Where’s the challenge in hunting prey that is already dead? That is why Anty and Uncle are talking about getting me toys that move on their own, or with help from my humans. I will be interested to see what sorts of toys those are. I suppose I will find out on Christmas morning.

This is the part where I relate something in my week to the business of writing. That is one of the duties of a good mews, and I want to be a very good mews. What stands out to me most is the part about prey. Sometimes, a writer will have an idea that will only go so far. After it stops moving, and it will not start moving again, it might then be time for the writer to find something that is still alive and work on that. If a fictional character, for example, is still hanging around the writer’s head after double digit years have passed, that might be a good place to start. Right now, Anty has plenty that is moving on its own, but if she gets stuck after that, she will know where to look.

Anty says it is time to wrap things up because she needs the computer now, so I guess that is about it for this week. Whatever holiday you are celebrating (or have celebrated) this season, I hope that it is (or was) a good one. I will share all about ours next week. Until next week, happy holidays, and I remain very truly yours,

Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)

Typing With Wet Nails

for the love of romance

personal

Why Historical Romance?

Why Historical Romance?

Cold Day and Another Week Begun

Typing With Wet Claws: This Is the New Year Edition

The Year So Far

Waiting on Wise (Wo)men

Typing With Wet Claws: New Year’s Eve Eve Edition

There Are No Reading Police

Boxing Day Blather

Typing With Wet Claws: Christmas Eve Eve Edition