Flirting with intent

I’m cheating on my WIP.

It started out so innocently, a little thought that made me smile.

Next thing I knew I was daydreaming about it when I was supposed to be writing, idly imagining conversations, plot turns, characters, motivation.

And then I thought, what harm just a few lines? Just a few, tiny, exploratory words? Nothing big. In fact, this could be just what I need to put the spice back into my WIP. Because, let’s face it, things are a little stale right now. The spark has gone, we’re too comfortable with each other. I’m happy to be in my glasses, hair scraped back, glasses on, slouched on the sofa wine in hand. This new idea doesn’t know that side of me, we are all witty repartee, de-frizzed hair and contact lenses, flattering underwear.

A bit of time with something new might be just what we need to recharge the batteries, put the va va voom back into our relationship.

So I wrote a few words, then a few more until, before I knew it, I had written 2000. My WIP was waiting at home, anxious, one eye on the clock whilst I was out. With another idea. I was at the library but still…

I am a slutty writer.

Actually I don’t think the new idea is better than my WIP, or the other two plotted out, character rich ideas waiting patiently for me to get round to them. But it is new, it’s unknown and that makes it exciting. When I wrote Summer Fling it stemmed from one scene, that scene inspired from a song. I had a few ideas about plot, setting, characters but most of the book I discovered as I wrote it. Minty is different. I know everything. I know all about Minty and all about Luca, their past, present and future. What’s hard is conveying it, making it sound original and fresh when, to me, it isn’t.

And so I prevaricate, procrastinate and play around. Blog, tweet, read, look at brochures and plan holidays I can’t afford to take – all in the name of research naturally. The huge amount of time I spend Wii dancing and singing is, of course, quality family time, not putting-off-till-tomorrow-what-I-should-be-doing-today.

So, decisions, decisions. New, fun project which right now could be used as a shining example of a sh**ty first draft, head down on Minty and Luca or either of the plotted out, character-rich ideas I have.

Deciding isn’t procrastinating – is it?

It's all about the socialising

                                                                 

Once upon a time, when I lived in a big city and commuted and wore suits, I worked in marketing. It was one of those jobs where people used a lot of jargon to cover up that a lot of their work was, I thought, plain common sense. But recently I have seen so many people get their own marketing so very, very wrong that, for the first time, it has occurred to me that maybe I wasn’t being paid to do some 20^th century version of the Emperor’s New Clothes but that maybe, just maybe, I was paid because I was good at my job!

Quietly reassesses career so far.

Now, in the olden days a lot of what I did was one-way traffic. I wrote information-based web copy, edited company magazines that I am pretty sure no customer ever read, instructed design companies to produce adverts and point of sale for people to look at. A lot of marketing just wasn’t that interactive. Then everything changed.

Social media. Didn’t exist when I worked in marketing so not my area of professional speciality but personally? I use it every single day. I interact with friends, many of whom I have never met in real life but know better than people I see every day, I interact with companies, writers, politicians, a very few celebrities, I mainly use Twitter, Blogger and Facebook whilst keeping an eye on Google + and Tumblr. I love social media.

When an author signs a contract nowadays there is an implicit understanding that they will do their own marketing; have a website, a blog, a FB page, tweet. Some publishers provide guidance and training on how to do this, some don’t. And of course, with the rise of the Kindle, there are many, many more self-pubbed authors than there used to be, all doing their own marketing.

Social Media. The clue, people, is in the name. Social – socialising, sharing. A quick google search finds the following definition ‘seeking or enjoying the companionship of others; friendly; sociable; gregarious’.  What it doesn’t say is ‘relentlessly bang on about my book until people want to beat me round the head with a Kindle’. It doesn’t say ‘random celebrity loved my book you will too…’ or ‘HERE IS ANOTHER REVIEW’ or ‘Better than Harry Potter/Da Vinci code/Time Travellers Wife (delete as applicable)’. It doesn’t say follow indiscriminately then unfollow if not followed back within 24hours. This, dear authors, is not marketing, it is spam. You are no better than a Viagra snake oil salesman.

Your potential readers are getting annoyed. This last week alone I have seen a lot of backlash against some of the most prolific of the self-advertisers, people commenting that they wouldn’t buy certain books if they had read every other book on earth, that they have unfollowed/blocked the worst offenders. They are lost readers. You can be Richard and Judy nominated, win the Booker and the Costa and they STILL won’t read you. Worse, they’ll tell all their many, many social media contacts why.

Don’t think of your twitter/blogger/FB accounts as inactive pages to push information out at people, remember they are interactive tools. Talk to people, be creative, be funny. Interact. Find examples of best practice and learn from them. I always really enjoy blog posts by Jessica Hart and Maisey Yates. Why? Both are funny, both post a lot of craft posts, both are relatable, both are very visual and use a lot of pictures, both are generous with giveaways. Both feel very personal. And I have bought books by both authors.

On Twitter I follow a lot of authors. It’s nice when they follow me back but I don’t expect that, it’s also nice when they take the time to respond to @ but again, some receive so many they would never write another word again if they responded to them all. So why do I follow them? I follow authors who give me a glimpse into their writing world, into what shapes them as authors. Why follow J K Rowling who never tweets? Follow Ian Rankin (@Beathhigh) who, as befits the creator of Rebus, tweets a great deal about beer, music and Edinburgh – and writing - always entertaining, down to earth and interesting. And he NEVER retweets reviews. Look at my follow list (@yrosered) and you’ll see a lot of writers, many friendly, encouraging, interesting – and if I hadn’t read them before I followed them on Twitter I certainly have now.

Just be yourself. Be interesting, be interested, tell funny stories, anecdotes, day to day frustrations. And yes, mention you have a book out every now and then – do the odd giveaway, maybe post an excerpt. But remember, when it comes to self promotion less is always, always more.

Feel the fear - and hide

Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think? No, I’m not talking about rain on my wedding day (it was quite sunny actually, though very windy. And I have never worked out how rain on a wedding day was ironic anyway). I profess to be a writer, amongst many other things, but for the last two months I have done very little actual writing. I have been on my computer a lot; tweeting (over 6000, mostly since April this year, no I’m not proud), blogging, reading – but actual writing? Not so much.

And yes, there was the husband’s Big Birthday and visitors and Christmas and weddings and I have a job and a child (not necessarily in that order) and volunteering and the occasional bit of housework. I even go out on the very rare occasion. Oh, and there was The Killing obsession although I consider that essential research as Danish crime TV is so closely linked to sweet romance writing, honestly. But the reality is I have been too full of fear to carry on.

Fear that the current submission will get another standard R, fear that as current WIP didn’t place in NV it’s not worth writing, fear that I am wasting my time; fear that I am a big fraud. Paralysing, all-encompassing fear. I should Face the Fear and Do It Anyway, remember that I have Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself but although I open up WIP, move a word here, delete a word there it remains static. And yet last year I received such brilliant encouragement, so many reasons to believe in my writing, so much hope I should have confidence. Only confidence is in short supply.

OH and I are at yet another crossroads, trying to peer into a crystal ball and see what the future holds. Since Northern Rock crashed our fortunes have been turbulent, in the resulting panic, as businesses tightened their belts we were both made redundant within just four months of the run on the bank. Freelance work eventually found we tried to pay off the resulting debt, pull ourselves back up only to find ourselves back out of work as the recession took hold and freelancers jettisoned. Grimly we clung on and found work, jobs we enjoy, employers we are proud to work for. This new crossroads may just be a tiny blip, may be something we look back on as a good thing, may change everything for the better – or for the worse. Regardless, I know full well that there is no use worrying but I am worrying anyway.
There are people who believe that Everything Happens for a Reason, that life is a series of valuable lessons like some true-life special on an obscure movie channel. I don’t. I don’t believe that life is necessarily what you make it nor do I believe that good things happen to good people or those that wait. Life is unpredictable, bad things happen to good people, hard work doesn’t always pay off and sometimes all you can do is hold on.

However I also know that books don’t write themselves, that contracts don’t materialise out of thin air and sometimes you just have to get over yourself. Write through the fear, the lack of confidence; give yourself permission to write badly, to make no sense. Just Write. In three quarters of an hour I am going to attempt to do my first 1k1hr in 2 months. I am going to Carry On Regardless.

Wish me Luck

A clean sweep

'This is so much fun, I love spending time with you. Can we do this again?
Heartwarming words heard from my 8 year old over the holiday season. On which particular occasion did she utter them? The shopping and lunch day (s)? At the work party I took her to? New Year's Eve with friends? Day out in Leeds to see 'Annie' (brilliant, brilliant, if you are near Leeds go while you still can). Cuddled up on the sofa watching films and eating chocolate? Nope. Yesterday as we cleaned out her bedroom.

She's not blessed with the tidiness gene, my daughter. Tiptoeing through her darkened bedroom to kiss her goodnight is like tackling a booby trapped assault course, blindfolded. I warned her Father Christmas wouldn't be able to find her bed to leave a stocking - only of course he did, bringing lots more clutter and mess into an already stuffed full room. And then she spent a night with her friend and saw just what a tween bedroom could be. Dressing table, illuminated mirror, swivel stool, minimalist sixties dollhouse. No clutter

So yesterday, the first day I didn't achieve my 'at least 500 words a day goal', we went on a tidying spree. Goodbye two thirds of her soft toys. Oh the anguish as we deliberated whether or not to keep baby dronkey (from Shrek). He stayed but Piglet, Eeyore and Tigger were cast aside. All her dolls, the big pram, high chair, their clothes - gone. Not my two dolls of course, they went back into the attic along with the small wooden pram and cot. All the babyish games put aside: 'I think I'm old enough for grown up scrabble now' as were a tip-full of broken felt tips, crayons, filled in colouring books. Goodbye to the Disney princesses, Bratz (yay!), Gabriella, Giselle, Eric and Robert leaving a mere 8 Barbies and 2 Moxie dolls, Eric from Aladdin and Toy Story 3 Ken complete with his paisley shirt. Playmobile, Lego and Sylvanian all stayed but the clunky doll's house furniture made for small pre-school hands went.
Now I have to make a trip to the charity shops after I donate the dolls and large pram to the local playgroup and say goodbye to the first part of her childhood.
It's never easy sorting things out, discarding, moving on. Whether it's toys, clothes, books or words. 'Kill your darlings,' advises Stephen King but you love those darlings, worked hard on them, they make you happy! But sometimes you have to move on, put them aside. I can never kill mine completely, I cut and paste them into a separate document and save it 'just in case' just like my old dolls and the wooden cot have gone back into the attic, just like I still have her first pair of patent, purple campers, her christening dress and the outfit she wore her first day home. After all, they're not just a little bit more clutter, they're memories.

The perfect Rom-Com

Two and a half weeks off work! In my head that means two and a half weeks of blissful writing time but of course, on day 5 of my break writing time has yet to materialise. Christmas has got in the way. I have managed to clean the house, skirting boards and all, buy and decorate a tree, do the bulk of my Christmas shopping, watch the Muppets Christmas Carol whilst writing all my cards and actually send said cards and various parcels. Today I was going to make mince pies with home-made mincemeat and the pastry in which to put it but pulled myself back from the domestic goddess brink and agreed to make cakes with the 8yo instead. Write? Not so much.

Yesterday I took advantage of a massive ironing pile to introduce the daughter to one of my favourite Christmas films. I first saw While You Were Sleeping at a large multiplex in Hartford Connecticut the year I au-paired in the States. Rom-coms were different in the early/mid nineties. Sweeter, more heartfelt, more innocent and yet spine-tingingly romantic (Sleepless in Seattle, another Christmas favourite came out the year before and my friend and I saw it twice in two days, bawling the whole way through both times).
Why do I love it so much?
1. Sandra Bullock does lonely so well, it gets me every time (same thing in The Net)
2. The moment she is watching the loud, squabbling family & the camera zooms in on a stocking with her name on

3. The proposal (so good we rewound to watch it twice)
4. Real characters (in real clothes), not Hollywood caricatures (well maybe the family, and the ex, and Joe Jnr, okay a few caricatures but good ones!)
5. Peter Gallagher thinking he has amnesia 'a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h...'
6. All the photos of Peter in his wallet, around his flat
7. Joe Junior
8. Lucy's speech at the wedding (did I mention that she does lonely so well, I dare you not to well up)
9. The minute she decides to take action and start following her dream, a lesson for all romance heroines everywhere.
10. Bill Pullman, not an obvious choice as romantic lead but he is perfect.

And, unlike many rom-coms made in the last ten years it's mild enough to watch with an 8yo and yet still a perfect romance. Inspiration for all sweet romance writers everywhere.

A good example

When my daughter was born I knew that all I wanted was for her to be happy, to be fulfilled, no matter where life took her. As she got older, learnt to speak, she began to have some very definite ideas about what she wanted to be and, like most children, has changed her mind a lot.
At 4 she wanted to be a vet - and then she realised that that involved blood, pus and death, so she ruled out that along with doctor, nurse, dentist.
When she started school she wanted to be a teacher.
Then she wanted to be in a band.
Then a fashion designer.
For the last year she has wanted to be in the police. For anyone who knows my daughter this is probably not surprising.
But yesterday she changed her mind. It would be too hard to be a police lady and have children, she told me, maybe she would be a lady who helps out in schools.
My heart broke.
At just 8 she thinks having a career and a family are incompatible, thinks she can't reach high.
Although I took three years off when she was born she doesn't remember that, she has always known me working and it has always been part time. And she is really proud of what I do, although she has a very tenuous grasp (apparently I work in the bird team! I'm actually a Fundraiser for a regional environmental charity). Of course I have made sacrifices to work part time, entering back into the world of work at a lower level than when I exited, swapping salary and management for school pick up and drop off, attending assemblies and chauffering to activities. And I don't regret that for a moment. But I hate the fact that an 8year old girl sees her life choices as limited.

There is a popular school of thought that sees romance writing, popular women's fiction as regressive but one of the things I love about writing romance is that my heroine can be whoever I want her to be; a lawyer,a journalist, a party girl searching for fulfilment. Open any Mills and Boon and you will see a huge variety of jobs; a medical heroine may be a nurse, she may be a doctor, she may be an occupational therapist or a radiographer. An office romance heroine can be a PA, or a PR specialist, a CEO or a temp. Heroines run their own businesses, own florists, bakeries, coffee shops, hotels, event management companies. They teach, lecture and train. They are many things and by the end of the novel they are strong, empowered and happy. Just like I hope my 8year old will be when she's grown up.

Stylish knitwear & storytelling

Not one but two examples of stylish knitwear

I've never been embarrassed to jump late onto a bandwagon (query, what on earth is a bandwagon? *note to self, google*) so for the last three weeks, whilst those smugly ahead of the curve have been debating the differences in knitwear, plot and subtitles (less swearing apparently) between the Killing 1 and 2 (Forbrydelsen for the real trendsetters just so we all know we are talking about the original Danish version and not the American remake), longsuffering-OH and I have been glued to the sofa watching Series 1.
We are addicted. Two episodes a night addicted. Only now we've caught up and last night had to make do with Grey's Anatomy instead, yes it rains in Seattle but otherwise it was the cappuccino froth to the bitterly refreshing expresso of Copenhagen's finest export.

Of course I usually write at night and can usually manage to write in front of the TV, raising my eyes from the screen occasionally to ask what's going on. Apparently this isn't at all annoying. I did try to write in front of a subtitled Italian crime drama once but, as it turns out, one term of basic conversational Italian ten years ago didn't equip me to follow the twists and turns of a Sicilian based drama. I still don't know who was killed or why. My Killing addiction has meant that my writing has pretty much ground to a halt over the last few weeks.

Troells Hartmann - look at the cheekbones!

Luckily I have managed to justify this brief hiatus to myself. I haven't been vegging out in front of the TV AT ALL, although it may look that way, nope, I have been researching. Although pretty much as far from romance writing as you can get - a teensy crush on Season One's Troells Hartmann added a certain extra entertainment value, why isn't he in Season 2, why??? - The Killing has been one of the best examples of plotting, character development, showing-not-telling I have ever seen, in book or TV form. No wonder nearly everyone who sees it has been rivetted and The Guardian has devoted acres of newsprint to everything from those famous jumpers to the quality of the subtitles. As a detective story, as a personal-growth story, as a study of a grieving family, as a political thriller, as a look at lives torn apart it works on every level. The end of each episode is particularly brilliant, each strand approaching some new danger, knowledge, crisis simultaneously leaving the viewer desperate for the next instalment.

My chosen genre may be very different but I still want my readers to have that same need to keep on reading, to find out what happens next. To supply that page turning quality. To make characters feel so real that a reader cares what happens to them. I have a long way to go, all I can do is watch and learn. Which is why tonight you'll find me, back on the sofa, watching S2. Tak!