The HEA Cafe

Archive for the ‘Craft’ Category

I think it was the fabulous Clair Delacroix/Deb Cooke who once told me that writing is a job. I sort of believed it then, but not as much as I do today at this particular point in my career. I remember when writing was fun, exciting, joyful, passionate and EASY. So what happened? Where along the way did writing become less of these things.

While, I don’t think I’ve lost the excitement, the joy or the passion of writing, I now understand far better the words of wisdom that well-establish writers have handed down to those of us who haven’t hit certain levels in our career. But, the writing has become more of a job and these things I’ve always associated with writing seem a bit out of reach at the moment. I don’t know if it’s because I took a step up the career ladder or if it’s because I’m putting extra pressure on myself to do more than I’m capable. Super Writer syndrome as it were. Maybe it’s the holidays, but I feel like I’m in the Foreign Legion with my back to the wall and I’m smoking my last cigerette.

Why am I feeling this way? Part of it is my October contract with Berkley for a three-book paranormal series. Writing paranormal is new to me, so as Yanni says, “A little bit of fear means your are doing something worth doing — you are stretching — you are going outside your immediate grasp. Out of my immediate grasp? Can we say outside the atmosphere and I’m scared spitless? A three-book historical series would be easy. I know that world. But creating a new one definitely makes me stretch. And it’s scary as hell!

Another monkey wrench that’s been thrown into the mix is that I’m trying to market my newest release Dangerous, which comes out the end of January. I’ve got advertising in place, but I’m already planning for Mirage’s release in June!  I need to hire Baby to help me out. Problem is she’s just 11, and she’s not savvy enough to do it without me guiding her, and if that’s the case, it’s easier to do it myself. So I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. If only Oldest were more computer savvy and eager to help.

Then the week before Christmas, I landed my second contract with Berkley, this time for two historicals. One of those books is written (THANK GOD) but I have to write a new one. I’m over the moon about another NY sale, but OMG, my scared spitless monitor just went through the roof. I’m now facing deadlines unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire career. Normally deadlines excite me. Right now, I’m asking myself, “WTF were you thinking you idiot! Three and half books in 13-14 months???”

All of these things mean I’ve got writing deadlines, proposal deadlines, marketing deadlines and then the actual marketing of the releases. Maybe this wouldn’t be so daunting if I didn’t have to work a day job, but like most struggling new writers, I have to work the day job to keep a roof over our head.

So perhaps you can see where I’m wondering what happened to the days when writing was fun, exciting, joyful, passionate and EASY. I think those things are still there, I just don’t see them as well as perhaps I once did. It was much easier when there weren’t deadlines to deal with. I’ve always submitted completed books, now I’m selling on proposal, and the books ARE NOT written. Then there are the craft issues to include at the editor’s request, learning the technical and financial business aspects of the publishing industry (I’m a VERY SLOW learner) and this or that business piece to comprehend. And for the newbies reading this and thinking, “I don’t know what she’s whining about, she sold.” All I can say is, my Mom used to tell me you’ll understand when you grow up. She was right, damn it.

So Claire, and any other writer I ever dismissed for telling me it was hard, my apologies for my arrogance. It is easier to sell than it is to keep up with the results of selling. However, the one thing in my favor is my stubbornness. I’ll make it just to have the pleasure of saying I made it. *grin*

What do you do to keep deadlines and everything else from driving you insane?

Monica
Monica Burns | http://www.monicaburns.com
Dangerous, 4.5 Stars Romantic Times
“…a pretty good read.” MrsGiggles.com
Master of Sin, Berkley 03/10

(this blog was originally published as part of my monthly column, The Full Sass, in Futures magazine, 2001)

A dinosaur came into my classroom last week, courtesy of one of my students, Celia. Now, let me make clear right up front that I teach “Investigative Methodology For Writers” online, so that at best, the dinosaur was an E-mail-osaurus Rex.

     But he was a useful bugger and I’m glad Celia brought him in. I’ll tell you why.

     He was a motivated dinosaur. I named him Celia’s Jurassic Passion.

     The class was discussing ‘motives’ and the dinosaur was an example Celia used to illustrate a fictional character’s hobby: “A passion so intense that his thinking is temporarily turned off.”

     Passion. Habit. Achilles’ Heel. Motive. In this particular example, this character is tricked into revealing his true identity because of his fascination with dinosaurs. He couldn’t stay away from a specific exhibit. This one last shred of his real self gives him away.

     Fiction, you say?

     Naw. Really happens.

     One of the interesting things about a character, or a person’s, motivations is that it’s often a key issue both in fiction writing and investigative work. It’s life imitating art, and art imitating life.

     In the case of Celia’s Jurassic Passion, we have a unique flavor of motive that works well for a PI and damned beautifully for a writer. It’s that one unattainable goal that drives a writer’s protagonist or antagonist. That hones a conflict line. That keeps a reader turning pages (or clicking the mouse, if it’s an e-book).

     For the PI, it’s the road sign saying: He Went Thataway.

     In any really good PI work, a PI has to climb deeply into the psyche of subject of the investigation. She has to do more than find out the facts. She has to understand what motivated the subject to lie, to steal, to philander, to connive, to run. She has to know what drives him, and what drives him is called motivation.

     And it has to be something strong enough, deep enough, to make him go against the norm. To take the risk. To take it all with him or, conversely, leave it all behind.

     In an effort not to violate the dictums of “believable characters”, many writers seem to choose mundane motivations. One hundred per cent plausible, believable motivations. A drunk driver mows down Alphonse’s granny in the middle of Main Street, so Alphonse goes on a rampage against all drunk drivers.

     But after ten-plus years as a private investigator, I can tell you that it’s not the logic or the believability of the motive that is the crux, but the intensity. I have seen people take actions for some remarkably stupid reasons, in my estimation.

     But to them, those reasons were everything. Their own Jurassic Passion.

     Intensity is what fuels the motive. Because the motives are, for the most part, as instinctual and primal as, well, a dinosaur, living deep in the very beginnings of our psyche. And often just a beastly.

     Many writers develop only lofty, altruistic and logical motives for their characters in the belief that the noble goal is universally understood. In my humble estimation, those writers are missing out on one of the most fascinating elements of the human psyche. Our ability to defy reason, ignore logic, damn the torpedoes and go full speed ahead because we are so blindsided by our passions we can see no other way of responding.

     Give me Grieving Alphonse who isn’t raging against drunk drivers but against television weather reporters. For it was the TV weather report that made Granny leave her humble home that day, and cross the street to buy an umbrella. The drunk driver is simply, in Alphonse’s primally passionate mind, a bit player.

     As a reader, a passionately illogical motive gives me the better hook, the better twist, the bigger surprise factor when all is finally revealed on the last page.

     It also, whether I like it or not, draws me into a shared identity with the character. We all have our Jurassic Passions buried somewhere inside. And motives stem from our passions. The one thing we cannot live with. The one thing we cannot live without.

     As an investigator, I sought out motives as my pinpoint flashlight on a roadmap through the winding, bumpy terrain of misinformation. As a writer, you can develop a character’s motives and passions as a pinpoint flashlight to zig and zag your reader over a similar emotional terrain.

     It’s been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It’s only fitting, then, that the guy driving the bus to hell is none other than E-mail-osaurus Rex, your friendly and illogical Jurassic Passion.

~Linnea

www.linneasinclair.com

Linnea Sinclair
RITA award winning Science Fiction Romance
Bantam 2007-2008: Games of Command, The Down Home Zombie Blues, Shades of Dark
2009: Hope’s Folly

I have three books published in German.  You can see them at Amazon.de, and you can also see the covers at my website.  I was very happy when I saw the covers for Samt & Sabel (Sword and Velvet, aka Captain Sinister’s Lady) and Rache & Rosen (Revenge and Roses, aka Pirate’s Price) because they were so…tasteful.  Swords and flowing fabric and coins and daggers.  Even the titles were euphonious!

Then I got the cover for Im Aufruhr der Gefuhle. At first, I thought it was a mistake.  I used Google translation on the page and it said the title translated to “In the Turmoil of Emotions”.  It started out in life as “Smuggler’s Bride”.  I had a blank moment as I stared at the page.  What happened to my tasteful covers? Why was Julia falling out of her bodice? And most puzzling of all, why was there a killer pink flamingo looming in the background over Julia and Rand?

I contacted my editor in Germany at Random House.  She hemmed and hawed a bit via email, but then she said the first books weren’t selling as well as they’d hoped.  Apparently, with those oh-so-tasteful covers, no one knew they were romance novels.

At first, I wasn’t happy about this change in covers.  But as I stared at the busty babe and the half-naked dude, I began to smile.  Yes, my book is full of turmoiled emotions and passion.  Yes, there are definitely scenes where he’s bare chested and her bodice isn’t fully fastened.  And while there’s not a pink flamingo in this Florida set romance, there are lots of possums.  And I acknowledge it’s hard to get possums to equal passion.

So if this “old school” cover leaps out at my German readers and screams, “I’m a historical romance! Buy me!” then I’m all for it. I’m in the business of writing books.  I want to sell as many of my books as possible, and I want to make it as easy as I can for the reader to get her hands on my publications.  I still like my tasteful books, but if In the Turmoil of Emotions replenishes my 401K, then I guarantee I’ll be smiling all the way to the bank.

Growing up, I often heard my dad say he never trusted a man who didn’t like dogs. I extended his philosophy in my own life to include animals in general, but the dog-specific element influenced my story Operation Sheba. When I started the story, Pongo, a sweet Rottweiler, showed up as Michael’s pet. In many ways, he mirrored Michael’s character: rock solid, well trained, handsome and agreeable…until you piss him off.
            Pongo’s presence acted as a way to spotlight Julia’s character as well. When the need to sacrifice Pongo in order to save Michael and a group of hostages arises, she racks her brain to find a way to save both the people and the dog. (So I don’t spoil anything, I’ll have to leave you wondering what she does and if it works.)
            I also used Pongo’s kennel as a plot element. As spies, my main characters have to use common items in their environment to get the job done. Situations are never ideal, so forcing them to use their imaginations and view miscellaneous objects in a new light is a way to give them the upper hand against the bad guys. The kennel, Julia’s iPod, and a hearse are all significant tools my spies use in the story. As an author, I love to play MacGyver as much as my characters.
            The final way I used Pongo to add depth to my story was a specific tribute to my father and his philosophy. One of the less admirable characters in Operation Sheba, a power-hungry senator, doesn’t like dogs. He’s Michael’s opposite in all ways so the trait fit him well. I didn’t make a big deal out of it within the story, just mentioned it in passing dialogue between Michael and another character, but that tiny detail reveals as much about the senator’s personality to me as any of his other actions, thoughts, or words.
            Dogs have played a large role in real life for me and I value what they can bring to my stories, but like all characters and plot elements, their purpose in the story can’t be forced. It either fits or it doesn’t. I’ve read books and seen movies where an animal – usually a pet – is dropped into the story without real purpose or clarity, often so the author can kill it off for shock value. Unless your reader has established a bond with the animal, that technique will fail. And if you’ve done a great job creating a bond between the pet and your reader and then you kill the animal off, beware. Your story will end up in the kitchen garbage disposal.
From what I’ve observed in real life as well as fiction, dogs bring out the best and worst in people. My philosophy as an author is a simple take on my dad’s wisdom: whether you’re a writer or a reader, never trust a character that doesn’t like dogs.
            Do you have a favorite fiction character who’s an animal?

Yesterday was a lovely day in here in Ontario, bright sunshine, warm, my flower beds looked lovely, pretty, with pink impatience and yellow snapdragons.  But it is October. Any day now we could have snow and those bright pink impatience will go all yucky, a sort of wet, cold, soggy mass that freeze your fingers when you try to pull them up.  But killing plants that are so vibrant and alive just seems so awful.

But, having pulled up the wet soggy masses in the past, or worst yet, dealt with the wet soggy masses in the spring when the snow has gone away, I gritted my teeth and put perfectly happy plants in a big brown paper bag, so the recycling folks could collect them this morning.

While I was wreaking this destruction, I was thinking about blogging today. I was also thinking about editing my next manuscript. The little plants became symbolic of all of those lovely scenes I have written, bright little descriptions of happy little events that have to be cut. Scenes that were beautiful that have to be cut. Scenes where the prose seemed to flow, that have to be cut.

Pretty pink and yellow scenes, that aren’t working hard enough. Every scene has to do at least three of the following things, or it is pretty and useless.  It must advance the plot, reveal something new about a main character, reveal backstory or foreshadow something about the future. And in addition, every scene must have conflict. Because if they are only pink and pretty, quite soon they will be horrible soggy messes holding your story down. You have no doubt heard this before, (you know, kill your darlings) but it doesn’t hurt to hear it again. It helps me to think clearly as I begin my day of revisions.

Today it is a cold and wet rainy day in Ontario, my flower beds are tidy and my wet soggy masses of plants are sitting in brown paper bags at the curbside. Today, I will be looking at my scenes with a jaundiced eye, ready to pull them out if they are not working hard enough or making sure they do.
Have a lovely day.