These Wicked Games

by Pamela Bolton-Holifield, Lacey Kumanchik, Sherry Ledington, Sara Mangel, Courtney Milan;Eve Ortega

  It’s difficult to sparkle in only two hundred words. I feared rendering you comatose with a diatribe on semicolon usage or something. So, I said, “Screw the rules. I’d rather write four hundred entertaining words than two hundred boring ones.” Which is what I did. And which is why I was asked to try again. (Heh. Fair is fair, though.)

  The way I see it, all sins will be forgiven as long as you are not boring. And not just the ones in your book. For example, grab an editor’s *** at a writing conference (not that I did), get your stiletto stuck in the elevator after a workshop (It wasn’t me, really), or give your manuscript a pretentious ten-word title everyone says won’t fly. (Actually, it was eleven words.)

  In other words, just do your thing.

  The readers are the ones who matter, and they will believe in you if only you write them a book that sparkles. Because in the end, it’s the stuff that’s not diluted with “should” and “must” and “that’s how it’s done,” and the writers with unique voices and ideas who entertain us the most.

  You can’t get away with breaking every rule…but I figure you can always try.

  * * *

  September 21, 2006

  Sarah Webb

  Finding Your Voice

  Don’t try to hide who you really are. We all have our own unique writing voice, and it’s this voice that makes us different. Let your personality shine through; pour your heart onto each and every page.

  As the writer Walter Wellesley once said, “There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.”

  And above all, be honest. The best books are written with real heart and a searing sense of truth. Think of Marian Keyes’s heart-wrenching novel about addiction, Rachel’s Holiday.

  Real life is messy, difficult, unpredictable. But unlike real life, while writing, you—the author—can pull the strings. Revel in twisting and turning your plot, be courageous, be original. Enjoy that heady first draft. You can always tame your writing during your revisions.

  Write about topics you are passionate about, and allow that passion to spill over into your plot. Whether it’s the role of women in society, working mums versus stay-at-home mums, or infidelity, I’m sure there’s something that animates you and makes your brain zing with ideas. If you have something to say, writing is so much easier.

  What are you passionate about?

  * * *

  September 22, 2006

  Stephanie Laurens

  Lights! Camera!…WAIT!

  Where are these people and what the heck do they look like?

  Okay, so I’ve read a random selection of first-chapter entries. And here’s the thing—in the vast majority, I couldn’t see the characters. Nor could any other reader.

  Your work should create a virtual stage in readers’ minds. The first time the hero or heroine appears, the reader needs to know four things: where they are (somewhere in Lady Whatsit’s ballroom), what time it is (after midnight), what their names are (for Regency, first mention is full name and title), and, most importantly, what these two look like. If you don’t tell us, we can’t see them.

  How and in what order you convey the information is up to you, but readers need enough to seed their imaginations.

  And every time you open a new scene you must establish: setting with visuals, time, and, most likely, what the character who leads into the scene expects to accomplish by being there.

  Think visual, think stage or film. Too many entries so far are just script without scenery or costumes, mouthed by ghosts.

  Let’s step this up a notch—let’s make these people and places real.

  * * *

  September 25, 2006

  Kinley MacGregor

  No Guts, No Glory

  Where do I even begin with this? Let’s go way back to grade school, when I started writing my first novel—no kidding, I still have it with my bad handwriting and all (it’s even illustrated). I would write on it every chance I got. Stealing time away from school and working on it at night. I didn’t know anything about setting, point of view, characterization, story structure, or anything else. All I knew was that I heard voices, which either meant I was haunted, suffering from multiple personality disorder, or that I was a writer. Since the latter was the least scary, I went with it.

  Over the next few years, I honed the craft and learned all those other tricks. And you know what? It killed my passion for the books I was working on and it almost destroyed my chances at being published.

  Like many writers, I had lost my goal of writing a fun story in favor of the big goal of being published. I researched everything from marketing trends to publishing schedules. And I lost a lot of my sanity.

  I was getting rejected over and over again, with a lot of it the result of my voice being too light for the subject matter I wrote. So I tried to do light and fluffy without dark characters. It didn’t work. I tried to write dark with no laughter. It didn’t work—I think I’d watched too many episodes of M*A*S*H growing up. I have to have both light and dark in my work in order to be happy. But that wasn’t what publishers wanted.

  It was so frustrating. Even worse, I put myself into critique groups who had no idea what I was trying to do either. My sarcasm was often misunderstood, and they even created a word for it—UOTY (you-oh-tee)—which stood for Understatement of the Year. But that was my voice. Right or wrong, it was who I was.

  I also couldn’t seem to write a marketable book. Ever. My stuff was always out there, and never in the current subgenre. I had too much romance for science fiction and fantasy, and too much fantasy/science fiction for romance. I felt like a dog chasing after its evasive tail.

  Then one day, after consulting with a friend, I decided that I was going to follow every single rule and write the most technically perfect romance novel anyone would ever read. Since Regency-set historicals were “the” thing, that’s what I was going to do. It had all the classic elements, heroine downtrodden by family who is scandalized and banished to the country. She returns to society to dazzle the brooding hero, etc. It was funny and light, just like all the ones that were currently selling hand over fist. My agent of three years sent it off and it garnered me the absolute worst rejection of my career—and this after I had already published six books. Heartbroken, I actually cried and decided that I would never, ever write another book that followed anyone’s rules but mine.

  So that afternoon, I sat down and started a story about one of my favorite things—pirates. For the first time in years I was actually enjoying my work again. I laughed and cried and had all manner of fun with it. And when it was through, I was thrilled. I sent it off to my agent of three years and to my critique partner—both of whom hated it. It was unmarketable. No one wanted pirates. What was I thinking? That one book cost me my agent.

  I was devastated and it was one of the worst times of my life. Because of medical bills for my son, we were on welfare, and the concept of living hand to mouth would have been a major step up for us. We didn’t have the money for me to keep chasing a rainbow that didn’t even seem to be in my state. So I decided then and there that I was finished as a writer. Never again.

  But I’d been writing all my life—literally. There was no way I could stop. So I made a deal with myself that I would continue writing, on stolen napkins if I had to, but that I wouldn’t waste my money submitting anymore. We couldn’t afford it. I was through.

  And then fate intervened. I went to my mailbox, as I did every day, and there in the middle of the junk mail and bills was my latest copy of RWR with the market update. I was so disgusted with the years and money I’d wasted that I couldn’t even open it. I threw it out, but that was wasteful too, so I dug it back out and put it in the bathroom, where it lived for several days until I could summon the heart to look at it.

  With a heavy heart, I skimmed the articles and information, wondering why I couldn’t catch a break. Wondering why my books stunk so much more than everyone else’s. And as I was reading, I saw
an update that HarperCollins had hired a new editor who was looking for submissions. Laura Cifelli had been my agent back in the days when I’d been selling. It’d been over four years since I’d last sold a book. But my heart wouldn’t let me not take one more chance. It nagged me for days, until I finally stole a single stamp from my hubby’s wallet. What could it hurt? One stamp. Twenty-nine cents. I told myself that if Laura turned me down, then I would never under any circumstances try again.

  So, biting the bullet, I sat down and pitched to Laura my two favorite manuscripts. One was about an ancient Greek general cursed into a book to be a sex slave to women. The other was about a pirate who needed to silence a woman bent on exposing him. My query letter stunk—they always did. It started out with the “you probably don’t remember me, but I was your client at one time” and ended with “I don’t have an enclosed SASE, but if I don’t hear from you, then I will know you passed on the project. Thank you for taking the time to read this.” It really was pathetic, and I’m amazed it didn’t get rejected too. But luckily, Laura did remember me. She passed on the paranormal, since that market had long died, but she was very interested in the pirate concept. I couldn’t believe it. I was so ecstatic that I wept and wished to heaven I’d had a phone so I could call someone. My infant son met the news with a stoic face right before he barfed on me. Not the reception I was hoping for.

  But that’s okay. I cleaned us up and ran to the apartment next door, where my friend June lived. I told her what had happened and asked her if she could loan me three dollars to mail out my proposal. I didn’t know when I’d be able to pay her back, but I knew that if I didn’t take this one shot, I might never have another one. She was gracious enough to feed my habit. And with trembling hands I sent that manuscript off.

  Two days later while I was at work, Laura called and offered me a three book contract, and Kinley MacGregor was born.

  And that unmarketable book that cost me my agent became A Pirate of Her Own, and it’s still in print seven years later. It’s hard to believe that it’s only been eight years since those dark days of bitter poverty. Eight years ago since I walked into a mobile home show in Mississippi and wept because I didn’t think I’d ever have the twelve thousand dollars to buy a trailer. We were so poor that it was a group of fans who got together to pay my fee so I could attend RT in 2001. Another fan who drove me there because I didn’t have a car. They’d also gotten together to buy me the nicest dress I’d ever owned, and for once it wasn’t secondhand or borrowed. I can never thank my fans enough. It’s why I never take even a single reader for granted. They really do mean the world to me.

  Since I first started seeking publication, I’ve learned a lot of important things. But the primary ones are that you should always be true to your characters and your style. Don’t follow trends, create them. But the most important one is this—if you don’t submit your book, they can’t buy it. Believe in yourself, always. Believe in your dreams. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve to be published, because you do. And if you hang in there, you will make it happen. Trust me. If the daughter of a teenage mother from Georgia who grew up in a house that was condemned and that had a bathtub fall through the floor while her sister was bathing in it and who wore her brothers’ holey hand-me-down shoes to school could make it onto the top five of the New York Times best-seller list, so can you. Believe in yourself. Always.

  * * *

  September 26, 2006

  Esi Sogah

  In Defense of Romance

  So, I’m not going to give you tips on writing because…I’m an editor. The idea of writing a book makes me break out in hives. I’m in awe of all of you for diving into this. No, I thought I would take this opportunity to share my thoughts on this crazy thing we call romance.

  Most people have the same response when I say, “I edit romance novels.” First: Wow, that’s so cool. Second: So, how does it feel to work on trash? And: How can you possibly tell a “good” romance novel? And since I don’t always have the best impulse control, it’s hard to refrain from letting my inner witch fly free. However, after the rage dies down, I try to point out that, yes, it is extremely cool, and here’s why:

  I do understand that the people who say things like this have almost definitely never read a romance—and certainly not a good one. They have some vague, clichéd idea of a romance novel, and it is my duty to burst their bubbles. (No, I have never come across the phrase “heaving bosom,” but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know.) When writing romances, there are so many stereotypes, so many possible pitfalls, that one wrong step will sink you. The fact that there are so many intelligent women (and men!) who can navigate this minefield deserves our undying respect. There is nothing harder than telling a story where everyone knows the ending and still keeping it interesting. Our authors do it every day with an incredible amount of talent and skill. Once I’m done explaining this, I’ll dig out one of my favorite romances (specially chosen according to my subject’s personality), sit back, and watch a whole new world of reading open up before their eyes.

  So, what do you have to say in defense of romance? Have you come across people like this in your lives, and if so, what are your standard responses? And if you were one of those people, what changed your mind?

  * * *

  September 27, 2006

  Heather Estay

  Don’t Take My Advice!

  Having absolutely no credentials to give advice on writing (or much of anything else), let me just share what works for me:

  Write just for yourself—not for anyone else or to be like anyone else, and not with “the market” or the judges in mind.

  When I began writing three years ago, I was already eligible for AARP. I probably wrote as well (or as poorly!) in my twenties. But the benefit of being in my fifties (besides a two dollar seniors’ discount at the car wash) is that I no longer care much about others’ opinions of me, my car, my clothes, the crabgrass overpowering my front lawn—OR my writing. It’s a great freedom. If people enjoy what I write, great! If they don’t, well, I’ve got a one-size-fits-all voodoo doll I’ve been known to use…

  This isn’t to say that we can’t all improve and learn from other writers. But if the 512 of you who didn’t win the first round now try to mimic our winner (congrats, Yorkie Lover!), we will lose the uniqueness that is you.

  Write what makes you laugh out loud or what touches you deeply or what intrigues you. And if you do, you’ve already won.

  Good luck, all!

  “You were born an original. Don’t die a copy.”—John Mason

  * * *

  September 28, 2006

  Mary Castillo

  The Inconvenient Unexpected Twist

  Have you ever found yourself writing a story that was going pretty well and then bam—your characters derail you by doing something completely unexpected, which then changes what happens in earlier scenes as well as subsequent scenes? I have—and that’s when I know the story is working.

  But there was a time when I didn’t think that way. When I wrote that first draft of In Between Men, I remember the exact moment when I came upon Chapter 11, in which my heroine, Isa, decided she was going to get down with her son’s hunky soccer coach in the backseat of his SUV. I walked away from the computer. There’s no way Isa would do this, I had thought as I paced my office. She’s a mother! A respectable high school teacher! It’s not in her character. I know her!

  The more I resisted, the more that scene refused to stop replaying in my head. I tried. Oh did I try to keep Isa on the straight and narrow. But then I had to let her go and do it. Two days later I wrote the scene the way Isa told me to. When I was done, I knew it was a winner. A year later a reader e-mailed me right after she’d read that scene, and I thought, Thank God I listened to my character.

  So when a new, unexpected twist lands on your lap, treat it like a gift. Explore it, play with it, and see where it takes you. More than likely, this is a sign that your chara
cters are taking over the story, and if they shock the heck out of you, they’ll shock your readers and keep them turning the pages.

  * * *

  September 29, 2006

  Victoria Alexander

  Putting the Romance in Romance

  Whether you like it sweet or spicy, funny or full of angst, with killer suspense or a comedic romp, the most important overriding element in a romance is the romance. It’s the ahhh moment, the catch in the throat, the sigh. A romance is about finding love. No matter what else happens in the story, that’s what you want to make your reader feel.

  Easier said than done—right? Absolutely. This is tough because you’re trying to evoke emotions. Sexual attraction is much easier to pull off. Emotional attraction is tricky, and, unfortunately, there are no hard and fast rules, no real guidelines.

  You can portray that emotional pull through dialogue. Your characters are talking about one thing, and there’s an undercurrent that’s entirely different.

  Very often the most romantic moments are when nothing is said at all. It’s the look across a crowded room when her gaze meets his and there’s a silent acknowledgment of something exciting in the air. Something wonderful. It’s the accidental brush of his hand against hers and the realization that awareness is not merely on a physical level. It’s an unexpected word or kindness on the part of one character who makes the other see him or her in a different light. Romance can be created in these and any number of other ways.

  One of the best inspirations I’ve found for creating romance are song lyrics. Two of my favorites are “I Wouldn’t Have Missed It for the World” (Ronnie Milsap) and “After All” (Cher). I find them achingly romantic.