Quote of the Week
There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.
~ Cynthia Heimel
Quote for the Week
“One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.”
~ Helen Keller
Adventures in Bushydom
Ahhh, Bushyland, where the sky is always blue, the grass always green. The beer’s crisp, and the food filling.
Got a chance to visit this divine kingdom, ruled by my husband, the sweet and wonderful, wise and ingenuous Bushy-Bear. There I was, frolicking in the quiet pools with Sir Murphalot, He of the œI No Longer Eat Frozen Poop Anymore Because When I Do, Mom Shakes a Can That’s Full of Pennies and Scares the Puppyhood Right Out of Me and I Think I’m Going to Have To Go Into Therapy for This, when my king did appear, scroll in hand, quest in mind.
œI need to gain remote access to the company, he did say, his emerald green tights clinging lovingly to his manly and muscular thighs. œAnd I doth require thee to saddle my digital horse and procure me this entrance into the hallowed halls of the company. And low, should thee doesit this for thine Lord, there will be much celebrating and eating of noodles and kung-po chicken for thee.
T’was all the prodding I needed.
And low, did I enter the cave where the vile and nefarious computer dragon lurked, it of the œDamn It! It just punted me off Skype! Brown!! BROWN!!! BBRRROOWWWWNNN!!!! Why won’t this work?! Bearing the sacred scrolls of instruction, penned by the brave, virtuous, and noble Knight D**n, did I face the dragon in its binary eyes and wrap my hands around its plastic yet-kind-of-mousy tail.
Sweat dripping from my brow, I bore all the instructions from my King to bear: œGo to the website. Hook me up. Make me a short cut.
But forsooth! The knave dragon was greater than I. And with a œYou are not authorized to view this page The Web server you are attempting to reach has a list of IP addresses that are not allowed to access the Web site, and the IP address of your browsing computer is on this list, did it fling me to the ground, breathe its hot, fanning, fetid, foul breath on my blistered skin and lay open the calluses on my fingertips.
With a sinking heart, but unwilling to surrender, did I read and re-read the scrolls, did I ask my king about œAre you sure it’s this website? and did I battle and battle and battle some more. Yet, still, the dragon remained strong and unyielding.
And weary, sore, and tired of Googling for solutions, did I sheath my bloody sword and drag myself back to my office.
But low! On the horizon, an answer did come.
D***n of the Park* did email and say, œSend me screen shots of the messages you’re getting.
And forsooth, I did.
Then the D***n did email again, saying, œBrown! Phone me! I know the problem.
Sore muscled but scenting victory on the wind, did I race to the cave, dodging Remus of the œI can weave in between your legs”watch! and Milo of the œI’m going to wait until you run down the stairs, then I’m going to TOSS my bone down and see if you can make it to the basement without breaking your neck!
Connected to the The D***n through the dark arts of the magician Telus, did the knight council me and spake thus, saying, œBrown, didn’t Bushy give you the instructions?
Heavy of heart did I confirm his question.
œHe told you that he needed the remote desktop?
Heavier of heart, did I confirm this.
œAnd when you did what I wrote, with ˜start’ and ˜accessories,’ it didn’t work?
The import of his words hit, and I said, œI saw no such words. He told me I had to get to the website.
Then did he say, œThere is no website. Did he give you the hand written instructions?
œThe what?! I did ask in a screeching voice reminiscent of tom cats fighting, and did begin to once more feel like Huckleberry Fin to my king’s Tom Sawyer. Once more did I see the great unpainted fence and hear the deep voice of He who gets me to do the most complicated and time-consuming tasks with the talent of a siren, He who mixes up instructions and terms, and then hovers over me like a vulture while I try to figure out why I can’t get the website to let me in, He who in typical CEO style has a vision then leaves me to figure out how to do it¦
œYeah, I took him through this and then wrote it out, œstart œaccessories, œremote desktop.
œWritten instructions?
œYeah? Didn’t he show you them?
Of course not for that would-hath maketh my life easy and uncomplicated, and then what would I have to post?
So, to recap. The 2.5 hours I spent trying to figure out why the instructions weren’t working was reduced to a FIVE second task once I knew I couldn’t use the internet. I’m now in the company’s IT guy’s record books for making him utter the words (when he saw the screen shots of what I was trying to do), œI’ve never seen anything like that, before. And D***n, should he decide on a change of scenery work as a trouble shooter for computer users.
But I did get my Kung-Po chicken.
*Sherwood Park, seriously. It’s just a bit outside Edmonton
Author Question – Queries
A lot of query letter templates say to mention other novels that are like yours, but how many stories should be listed?
Asked writers and a friend who has connections with the agenting business, and the consensus seems to be: more than 1, not more than 3. If you only mention one, then it seems like you didn’t do enough research. However, if you mention 5 then it just seems like you’re trying to justify your book’s existance. Plus, it takes up extra space. Two or three, it seems, says “I’ve done my homework and there are a goodly number of books like mine.”
My friend also said this: “Just make sure to put the most important two first and last, because the eye tends to read the first thing, then the last, then the middle, and often forgets the middle, especially when it comes to lists.”
Quote for the Week
“There is no obstacle you cannot surmount, no challenge you cannot meet, no fear you cannot conquer, no matter how impossible it may sometimes seem.” ~Erin Brockovich
Walk Quietly…
The saying is walk quietly and carry a big stick, but I’ve found with the fearsome twosome it’s best to walk quietly and carry a pop can with 7 pennies in it. Thus far, rattling the can seems to snap them out of the “must eat this frozen piece of poop then go kiss mom,” behaviour.
Here’s hoping it’ll continue to work in the coming weeks and I can train them out of this less than desirable canine trait.
2010–Day 1 and Counting
Am I the only one who, while still in 2009, was hoping for 2011 so I could see how 2010 turned out?
A whole new year, full of possibilities and pitfalls. It’s like a blank piece of paper, waiting to be written on, and I’m worried about what ink and pen to use. Why does a new year intimidate me so much? It’s really just another day, another revolution around the sun…nothing’s going to change, really.
I’m still going to keep trying to lose weight, gain writing skill, love and be loved. Still…those numbers, those grand 2-0-1-0 how very impressive and new they seem to me, full of starch, all shiny and pressed.
I want to do so much. I’m already feeling like time is getting ahead of me, and it’s just the first day. Is there hope for a neurotic, over-achieving perfectionist? Or am I doomed to a year of constantly trying to beat and outdo myself?
Maybe this year should be about taking it easier, learning how to be gentle with myself…oh, wait…that was last year’s goal.
Eugene Delacroix said, œThe artist who aims at perfection in everything achieves it in nothing, which is all well and good for him to say.
He’s dead.
The man’s accomplished all he’s ever going to AND it’s all dandy for him to say it, because he’s one of the great romantic painters.
It’s not that I want to be perfect, per se. It’s that life is short and I want to do the best, give the best, be the best that is in me to be. This would be perfect, so in a sense, isn’t that perfectionism? And the worst kind since by virtue of being human, I’ll never actually be the best me because some days I’m going to wake up and want nothing more than to spend the day in p.js and eating Miss Vicki’s sweet chile potato chips.
Quote for the Week
The average pencil is seven inches long, with just a half-inch eraser – in case you thought optimism was dead.
– Robert Brault –
Persistence
So, this week, we were talking about persistence in writing and life.
I think most of us labour under the misconception that once we’re in the door, with a contract, an agent, a book, then life gets better. We dream of hitting super star status, because we’ll be able to call the shots.
Eh.
Maybe that’s true, but most of the big name authors I’ve met are the hardest working, most ‘grunt-minded’ people I know. By this I mean, they’re not on a chaise sipping pina colodas and dictating their story to some underling. They all seem to be pulling 50+ work weeks, juggling like mad to keep up with the demands of tours, media, etc.
Persistence, I think, becomes more important as you become more successful. In the beginning, we’re all working to be noticed by a publisher or agent, struggling against self-doubt and rejection.
When we hit any success rung, then it becomes persistence to make sure all our previous hard work wasn’t for nothing.
When you become mega-successful, there’s an odd kind of struggle/persistence you have to do…
When Beyonce launched her solo album, record executives told her that her album didn’t have any hits on it…she says (in I’m Yours television special), “they were right. I didn’t have 1 hit…I had 5.” Interesting though, how this woman who sold millions of CDs, acts in blockbuster movies, had to deal with her label’s rejection and cynicism.
Joss Stone’s most recent album, Colour Me Free, she’s basically promoting on her own, because her record company is so convinced it’s a flop, they’ve refused to put any money in it.
Stephen King had to change publishers when his old one kept insisting he do book signings at Walmart. I think he actually did and had no one turn up.
Janet Evanovich went to a book signing and the store had closed for the night. At another signing, no one showed up.
Janette Oke was at a book signing I was part of. No one went to her table. The woman, by the way, has written more than 75 books (sold multi-millions), and is one of the “mothers” of inspirational romance.
Other stories of persistence:
Maroon 5 was dropped from their label when their first album was a flop. It took them 10 years to get another deal.
The Dixie Chicks were the running joke in Nashville for almost (or maybe more than) a decade. They couldn’t get a record deal to save their lives.
No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom album was paid for by the band because the executives, disappointed with their low sales, wanted to drop them from the label.
Shakira’s first albums sold so poorly, the executives wanted to (or maybe they actually did) drop her.
I think we need to take heart from all of this. Success isn’t a given and failure isn’t a sign to quit. If you want to see your dreams come true, then persist.
Author Question – Is It a Romance
Does the inclusion of secondary characters’ POVs mean my story isn’t a romance? How do I know if my story is a romance?
One of the reasons I started writing in romance was because I was fed up with what I call Dysfunction Masquerading As Conflict. You know what I mean: she’s supposed to be self-sufficient and stubborn, but just reads shrill. Or he’s “wounded” and that’s the reason he’s allowed to emotionally abuse her, and be a jackass because “it’s okay, ’cause he loves her.”
One of my favorites is the external conflict that a five year could solve. She needs the rind of an orange, and he needs the inside, but oh-uh!! There’s only ONE orange. What are they going to do? So the reader suffers through hundreds of pages of “come here” “go away” hot sex, more sex, oh, look, more sex and right when she hits the 100th orgasm, she realizes she really loves him, but boo hoo, there’s that problem of the orange. Then she either gets pregnant and runs away, or sees him having dinner with another woman and runs away, or realizes it’ll never work in this mad, one orange world, and runs away. Inevitably, she gets hits by a truck or car (no doubt, driven by the now, completely pissed off romance reader). Then, she wakes up in a hospital, sees him. He’s all “oh, I love you!” and she says, “It won’t work. There’s only one orange.” Then he solves it all by saying, “No, we can share the orange.”
Then there’s more sex…well, except for the reader whose too busy poking their eyes out or seeking professional help to even consider having sex.
Oh, wait, you had a question, right? 😛 Maybe I should stop ranting.
So, about the secondary characters:
Secondary characters are fine, they just can’t dominate the story. So, if you break it down, it should be (and I’m totally pulling a ratio out of my head for example, not as a hard and fast statistic) 85% the main characters, 15% supporting.
If you look at Crusie’s work, she has secondary characters, but they don’t dominate.
On a more personal example, in my novel there is a cast of 2 villains, 2 main characters, and 4 supporting characters. Not every scene is the H & H, but when they’re not together, they’re at least mentioned or in the “back of the mind.”
I think that’s the crux of a romance. If they’re not together, they’re thinking or talking about each other. And that doesn’t mean it’s all got to be kissy-face, swoony, stuff. It can be a “quick” mention. In my story, the heroine is dealing with a stalker, so her attention isn’t on romance. There are scenes where the hero is mentioned, but just in passing and sometimes (if I remember correctly) not at all, because the discussion is the stalking and that would have been wildly inappropriate. Snort, can you imagine? “Oh, I know you’re in physical danger and the police can’t prove anything, but who cares? Tell us about that hunky guy.”
Schwarzenegger had made a similar comment when he was filming Predator. The director wanted a love/sex scene and he was like, “Yeah, how? I know this giant thing is chasing us, but let’s duck behind the bush for some nookey.”
So, what I’m saying (in my usual long, rambly way), is (and this will sound like SUCH a cop out), but you’ll have to make the call. If the secondary characters take up as much space or more space (their story, not them supporting the main characters), then it may be more women’s fiction than romance.
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