So how many jobs do you do?

I'm a cooker a baker a candlestick maker...

At least that's how it feels some days. When I pull up the list of things I do every day, even I'm impressed! Really and truly, how much time do you actually have to write? I'd like to know.
I've heard some writers claim they can bang out 30,000 words in a few days. No way can I do that! A great, exceptional, outstanding day for me is 5000 words. Usually it's more like 500-2500 per day.
Anyway, the day job has been a major emotional drain lately and after going back and forth for several months, I made the decision to quit while I'm ahead. This will be my last weekend until mid-May, when I've volunteered for a three day weekend and after that, I'm done.
I'm going to write full-time...well, I will do other things, but writing will be my profession. Let's hope it pays off!

We Have A Visitor!

I’m delighted to have multi-published author, Taylor Tryst, as my guest today! She has graciously agreed to discuss a topic very close to my heart: writer’s block. Taylor and I have both been struggling with this problem for quite a while, and I’ve asked her to share her experiences and insights. Welcome, Taylor, the blog is all yours!

Back to Basics
Okay, I’m contradicting myself here, but trust me when I say that there’s a method to the madness.

There was a huge stink with authors who were members of Romance Writers of America over the last year or so, and since I had moved, and had previously discontinued my membership, I was just adamant that I no longer needed to be a member of RWA or my local chapter.

I mean, I live six hours north and probably wouldn’t be able to attend but one or two meetings a year. I’d dropped my membership due to my location, and I was successful enough on my own.

Or so I’d thought.

Sure, in the beginning of my career I’d joined the local chapter, Midwest Fiction Writers, as well as Romance Writers of America. I began going to local meetings and reaping the benefits of being surrounded by published authors as well as other writers who had the same goals and desire to reach publication. I always found the meetings themselves to be very inspirational. The vibe was incredible and infectious, the published authors so generous with their time and knowledge.

Then I moved north six hours and without the local meeting, I decided that it no longer benefited me to be a member of either group due to my inconvenient location.

Several years flew by and the unthinkable happened. I hit a bout of writer’s block of epic proportions. I couldn’t write, I couldn’t edit, I couldn’t even sit down and read my own work.

I asked for the advice of my peers, and tried like hell to follow it. The advice was brilliant. From writing and inspirational tricks to the suggestion of just relaxing and taking a short break, I tried it all.
Nothing worked, however. Not a damned thing. I’d lost something, and I’d drifted so far off course that I didn’t know if I’d EVER find my way back.

Serious issues from the real word had my head spinning. Medication regulated my mood, and every day that I didn’t write I felt the world of fiction slipping away. I’d worked hard to become a published author, I dreamed, I struggled to work full time, to be a hockey mom, and yet I managed to survive and write. Even after a painful divorce from a 14-year marriage, my professional self flourished.

So I was stumped when I could barely punch out an email, and when sitting down at my laptop brought tears to my eyes. I began to contemplate taking a break that might be permanent. I imagined the end of my career, the dousing of my dreams, and of walking away from it all. Could I turn my back on what had once been my only desire? What had once been my only saving grace?

I honestly didn’t know.

I’d sit and stare at my work in progress, the words blurring into a series of endless letters that made no sense. I began to loathe my computer, some days being so depressed that I couldn’t even work up the gumption to check my email.

I decided to do the only thing that felt right at the time. I made the decision to forget about writing, to stop putting pressure on myself and to take a mental vacation from it all. That decision was heartbreaking, but looking back now, I realize that it was the right one to make.

I began reading romance novels again, romantic suspense, and paranormal romances, which I’d always loved. I started watching movies with my mom, and I focused on all of the little tasks I needed to accomplish that had always taken a backseat to writing. I began spending time with my horse, haltering him, brushing him, and actually relaxing outside of myself for the first time in years.

I tackled major spring cleaning, jobs around the house that needed to be tacked but always fell to the wayside. I cleaned out the junk drawer, threw away old paperwork and ten year old receipts, and in that process I began to notice something happening.

It started in the car one day. On a trip out of town, I began to think about my book and their plots. Talking them over with my sister, tossing ideas around. Hmm, I hadn’t done that for over a year, and it felt so wonderful that I began to feel an itch.

I changed bedrooms and found my writing paraphernalia in boxes. I put up pictures, quotes that were writing related, and instead of giving me anxiety and dread, they made me smile again.

I found stacks of ‘how to’ books on writing, and actually picked them up. I began reading The Heroes Journey by Christopher Vogler. Oh my God, it was a revelation. Archetypes and plot lines. Dramatic function and the employment of crisis and climax, which are two different things by the way…lol

It all began coming back to me, and made me crave more. Made me crave the basics that I’d once been fascinated with.

Recently, I found myself cruising the internet. I ended up on the Romance Writers of America’s website checking out the new fee structure, thinking about re-joining both RWA and Midwest Fiction Writers. Will I make it to many meetings? Probably not, but maybe one or two this summer. It’s a six hour drive but just the thought of being surrounded by other authors, being inspired by the sheer drive of a group of unpublished writers with the common goal of writing for publication makes the drive to write return tenfold.

What’s the point of my rambling today? Well, I guess it’s that I’m going back to the basics. All of the things I did when I began this journey eleven years ago are suddenly relevant again, and I’m feeling hungry again.
I booked the hotel room for the RomantiCon conference that Ellora’s Cave is hosting in October. I’d planned to go last year, but life got in the way, as it often does.

I told myself that I’d go this year, but only if I began writing again. Kind of a treat to myself if I could make some progress, you know.

But then I remembered what an old friend had said in the beginning of this journey. I’d met her at my first MFW writers meeting and she said, “You have to invest in yourself. You have to act like a professional if you want to be a professional, and be taken seriously.”

I realized then that I’d been neglecting my ‘professional’ self for years. I moved, and I let personal issues overtake my professional life. Depression and health issues rocked me to the core and left me groggy, left my mind cluttered and my thoughts unclear. I was left feeling less like an author and more like a lost soul. I let myself drift away from the publishing world and sank into despair. We grew apart, my professional self and I, almost like a failing marriage, we just moved in different directions.

Saving a bad marriage or relationship takes work. It’s an investment. Self help books and date nights, fancy lingerie and deep conversations about feelings, sort of like trying to save a career.

My point here is that it’s about finding those elements again, the fundamentals that helped create this opportunity for me for me in the first place, and implementing them again. About making them matter, and that’s just what I intend to do, take the ‘Heroes Journey’ literally, one step at a time, to translate it into one word at a time, one paragraph at a time, and hopefully one book at a time.

Thanks for listening, and hey, I think this counts as having written, right?
Taylor

Absolutely, Taylor! Thank you so much!

Beautiful Stranger is coming!

Excerpt from Beautiful Stranger:

David held her hand tightly. His fingers interlaced with hers. They laughed as they ran to the car.

She felt as if she were running away from her common sense and she didn’t care. The situation had gotten way beyond her control and she was ready to accept it for what it was. Where lust and attraction were concerned, there was no such thing as common sense. She should have known. She laughed. She knew now it was adventure and daring she needed all along and here it was. Spontaneity was what she had dreamed of for so long. All she had to do was give in and enjoy it. Why not turn up the volume and take the ride? This weekend was special. David was special. Whatever happened was meant to happen. Brave words.

The car was parked in a dark corner of the lot far from overhead lights and other people. As soon as they reached David’s sedan, she leaned against the warm hood of the car, pulled him against her and kissed him.

He pressed his body against her and eagerly returned her soft kiss.

Her hands gently stroked the sides of his face. “You’ll have to think for both of us. I’m officially turning my brain off and my body on.” She would be an idiot not to make love to this man as soon as possible.

He smiled. “Then we’re in trouble. I’m not thinking clearly.” His body pressed between her thighs as he kissed her.

Her lips parted for him. The tip of her tongue teased his. Their warm breath mingled. Her hands slid into his back pockets and cupped his muscular butt. Her fingertips did a little exploring through the cloth. She was pleased to discover he had the exact type of solid, sculpted butt she loved. She pressed her hips against him to savor his solidness. His hardness brushed against her thigh. Her breath caught as she felt an instant rush of heat at the thought of thick, slick penetration. She couldn’t wait to feel him moving inside her. “How far away is your ‘someplace private’?” she whispered.

“It’s a bit of a drive deep into bayou country,” he answered breathlessly.

Her heart sank. That was bad news. She wanted him right now. Her eyes skimmed across the backseat of the old sedan. “What do you think?”

His eyes flashed. “You want to get caught, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” She felt daring. This part of the parking lot was secluded, so why not take advantage? The thought of making love to him in the backseat was irresistible. Her heart pounded.

He pressed his body against her and kissed her while struggling to unlock the car door with one hand. His hand fumbled to insert the key without looking but he finally got the door open.

She slipped into the back of the sedan and pulled him beside her. Her fingers sank into the luxurious leather. She leaned across the seats and inhaled the crisp scent of upholstery crème. Her eyes fell to half-mast. There was such a strong sensuality associated with this scent. Roomy, bench seats upholstered in buttery leather practically beg lovers to take advantage of them. Her hand patted the polished leather approvingly. “Nice ride, David.”

“Thanks. I rebuilt a man’s roof and he reupholstered my car. I’m glad you didn’t see it before.” He laughed as he slid across the seat and pulled her onto his lap.

She hiked her skirt up and straddled his lap, facing him, being careful not to crush the impressive bulge rising in his trousers. Her hands cupped the sides of his face.

He tipped his face upward to gaze at her. His eyes glistened. “Sit down, girl. That’s exactly where I want you. I do wish we were somewhere private. I want to take my time with you.”

“This is perfect.” She gently rubbed the very tip of her nose against his while breathing in the clean scent of his skin.

His fingertips gently brushed a fallen strand of hair from her brow. An enraptured expression lit his face. “I used to dream about you,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

She couldn’t believe it either. She was in the backseat of a beautiful old car parked beside a bowling alley, and she was in heaven. It was an unexpected but wonderful turn of events. She smiled. This was where the new Lily would begin. The neon-pink Rock’n Roll Bowl sign cast a faint rosy glow into the car. Her fingertips glided across his jaw. “I’m really enjoying my visit to New Orleans.”

A mischievous look shone in his eyes. “Are you enjoying anything in particular?” his weight shifted beneath her as his hips tilted upward. The fabric of his trousers strained.

She gently ran her thumb across his full bottom lip. She kissed his softly cushioned lips and traced her fingertips across his chest. “I always enjoy the food,” her voice fell to a faint murmur.

“Reason enough,” he unsnapped the top of his trousers, “to move back.”

“David, I have to go home on Monday,” she whispered.

His gaze locked on to hers. He looked directly into her eyes as he stroked her hips and pushed his hardness against her. “Then promise to stay with me ’til Monday.”

(I think you can see where this is going... I love the back seat.)

XXOO Kat

Dreams

A lot of writer’s I know say that sometimes their story comes to them in dreams. I’m not one of those lucky people. I tend to dream about people trying to kill me or harm someone in my family. Wouldn’t make for a very romantic story.

I’ve been stuck lately. Not sure why. Not really stuck, because I re-read one of my wips and thought, this isn’t half bad. I was excited to get back to writing it…until I opened the document. I also started my cougar story as part of the cougar challenge. Wrote the first ten pages and feel I’m off to the right start. Still when I open this document – nothing. I just stare at the page and type nothing.

The other night I dreamt of being with another man, other than my DH. He was a very sexy Italian. I was standing on a stair, he was ground level. I wrapped my arms around his neck and the words I love you were on the tip of my tongue. Yet, I was too scared to say them. I feared they wouldn’t be returned. But I could feel the love radiating off him as he hugged me. He held me like he never wanted to let me go. And then he whispered those three magic words and my heart melted. I remember squeezing him tighter and returning his sentiments. Then I woke up.
BUT…I was left with an overwhelming feeling of love all day long. That giddy, toe curling, feeling you get when you first fall in love. The feelings have stayed with me the last few days. I want to use them when my H/H get to the point they confess their love for one another, but I have to get there. I have to write a few more scenes before they can realize their love for each other.
How do I get the words to flow so I can finally use one of my dreams?

And thanks to my fellow blog mate and friend Kat for letting me know Pretend With Me was on the coming soon page at www.jasminejade.com, last week. It totally made my day. Look for my new release April 23rd.

National Read a Road Map Day - Can You Find "LOVE"?

Happy National "Read A Road Map" Day! I thought I'd skip going into the boring details of checking road maps...don't you use a GPS system now?...and branch off to a different tangent on this.

Let's see...read a road map and find your way somewhere. Isn't the journey to LOVE kinda like that? Don't you have to follow a "path", go in a certain "direction", to find true love?

Romance books use a road map/path/directions to get their heroines to their heroes. It's called a PLOT...and it's never an easy journey. There are always bumps in the road, detours, obstacles, slowdowns, wrong turns...just as you might find if following a map to some unknown destination.

Usually, you manage to find your way...just as our heroines manage to find that "happily-ever-after" ending despite all the setbacks. Flat tire? Run out of gas? Or, Hero's ex-wife shows up to create havoc? Heroine thinks hero is cheating on her? All detours of some type. A road map may not be able to help sometimes, but a crafty plot written to guarantee happiness can set the hero and heroine back on course to romance and love. 

Why don't we send our heroes and heroines on a fantasy journey using a road map and find "LOVE"?

How many cities in the United States are called "Love"? I did some searching on the Internet and here's some that I found:

Love, AZ
Love, IL
Love, KY
Love, MS
Love, TX
Love, VA

Now, you can also find variations for the word "Love" in cities around the country:

Lovers Leap, CA (tragic idea!)                                                Lover, PA
Love Canal, NY  (not very appealing)                                      Loving, GA
Love Hill, AL                                                                          Loving, KY
Lovejoy, GA                                                                           Loving, NM
Loveladies, NJ                                                                        Loving, OK
Lovelady, NC                                                                         Loving, TX
Lovelady, TX                                                                          Loveland, CO
Love Lady, TN                                                                       Loveland, IA
Love Lake, MO                                                                     Loveland, OK
Lovely, KY                                                                            Loveland, WA
Loveless, AL (sad!)                                                                Loveland, OH
Love Point, MD                                                                      Loveland Park, OH
Loveville, MD                                                                         Loves Corner, IL
Loveville, TN                                                                          Loves Park, IL

Most of those sound like interesting places to check out...do they live up to their names? Does "LOVE" define each city and hold some type of special magic for those seeking romance? Maybe I should have checked "Romance" for city names. Or, things to do with love and romance.

I actually did find a couple that might interest you. How about Horneytown, NC? Or, Romance, AK? And then there's my favorite, Intercourse, PA.

I've actually been to Intercourse more than once. Quaint little Amish city...mostly a tourist spot. Will you put that on your list of places to visit? Check your road map (or let your GPS system find it for you!).

Story idea: What if I have my heroine visit cities with "Love" in their names, and looks for "Mr. Right"?

Hmm...sounds like a good idea!

Photos: Flickr: Andii, Amanda "Bake It Pretty", lorigami's photostreams.
Also: Mapquest: Intercourse, PA

For book updates, visit http://www.mariannestephens.net and http://www.aprilash.net

Blog: http://romancebooksrus.blogspot.com

YAHOO GROUP: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/romancebooksrus

"Anything You Can Do", by Marianne Stephens: http://www.breathlesspress.com
Diana Coyle, Night Owl Reviews: Reviewer Top Pick: 5 out of 5 STARS!
Top 7.5% Best Selling Romantic Comedy at http://www.allromanceebooks.com
 

Inspiration comes in many packages

Shocking to me is the way inspiration for a story comes to me.

Usually in little pieces.

Last week in Washington D.C., I met an old friend who reminded me of a double date we'd been on when we were young and unattached, crazy and rather blind. Result? I get to rescue the gal from a guy who is hitting on her with another...guy. This opens a story.

My family and I went to a very very very French restaurant and I was reminded of a cafe I was in two years ago in Paris. Setting for a new story, anyone? (Food and wine--mussels in garlic and white Bordeaux to go with!)

Then, reading this blog, I saw Fran's entry of the blind-folded man who is (OMG) over 50! Go see this a few entries below! (!!!???) This guy inspires the pants off me.

And then there is the latest book I am reading. Donna Leon's mystery series set in (sigh) Venice. I wanna gooooooooo again and since I just finished a book set there, I need to find a new angle! Suggestions??????

Ciao, my lovelies! Off to work!
And for your own inspiraton, I offer one of my pix that I keep on my desktop.

I Been Thinking...

Not necessarily a smart thing to do...

but maybe worthwhile. I recently wrote a post regarding the ages of our heroines and I realized something - here comes a general statement - while many romance heroines may be in their twenties, we are not necessarily writing for the sensibilities of twenty-something year old readers. We may be writing for women over thirty. Our heroines tend to reflect thoughts, feelings, insights and the awareness of a more mature woman, perhaps reflecting us and our thoughts, feelings, insights and awareness.

Over the past few years, I've also noticed something else - once again, this is a generalization that may not be entirely accurate but is related - the younger the reviewer of my works, the more they seem to like what I consider fluff. I mean, I don't generally write fluff, but I've noticed that say...a work that means the least to me, well put together but not especially deep, will get a great review from a young twenty-something reviewer, while a work that is of far more significance to me, that I feel is far more complex and contains depth and symbolism, seems to go right over the same reviewer's head. I'm not saying that reviewer is shallow, I'm saying I find it interesting that they really like a work of mine that I consider sort of, well, shallow.

That's about it! Call me Ishmael....

No, I don't take this personally. My philosophy is to each his own. I find it curious.