Saturday–after doing some cleaning and shopping–I flopped on my couch and tore through my new novel by a favorite author. With a sigh of relief, this one was as magical as some of her earlier books and I stayed up very late reading to the end. With particular note, I enjoyed the love scene because she has a real gift for laughter and sex. The only thing that stood out was that, well, one of the secondary characters–two, really–seemed like mirror images of characters she had written in previous books. I ignored it because the dialogue was witty; the main characters were so likable; and the prose was verdant.

If I perhaps noticed that something life-threatening happened to the heroine at a crucial moment and then I spent about ten minutes going over in my mind the other books this author had done that to the heroine, it was only for the sake of writing study. The similarities were surface really; and how original can you be when talking about the human experience, the early 19th century; and falling in love? Secondary characters have archetypes too, right?

I carried on and finished the book, sighing as I closed it. And then, in a fit of nostalgia, I went and got my favorite book by this author. The book that is complete Desert Island Keeper. The book I’d recommend to anyone who hadn’t read a romance before. The book I wished I’d written. I opened it and began reading, immediately drawn into the story as if I had not read it a dozen times before. And that’s when it happened.

There. The Lord of the Underworld and Persephone metaphor. Which was exactly the metaphor she’d used in the book I just finished reading to describe a kiss. I looked at this version carefully. In this one, she was describing the hero’s smile instead. Whew, what a relief. Of course, at this point I’m now tempted to read through all her books and see if she’s used this particular metaphor in any other books. Not likely all of them, but I bet I could find a few more books she does it in.

I’m pretty sure you can’t plagiarize yourself. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy a Hades/Persephone reference because that story does beguile me, but now I think about my own writing and think about all the ways I’m repeating myself. As we’ve discussed in other blogs, we have “core” heroines, core themes, core heroes, and a number of other repetitive things that I know I do. But now I’m also repeating my metaphors. And not even just my metaphors. I have a great affection for: “indeed” and “honestly” and “clearly” used as dialogue responses from my characters, an indication that Harry Potter is playing in the background as I write. All my characters use these lines–they’re not restricted to one character because I like for all my characters to be sarcastic. I can’t bear for one of my characters not to have the perfect thing to say.

Now I grant you that me worrying about repeating myself when I have yet to be published is definitely putting the cart before the horse; however, I am basing this on stuff I’ve started and stuff I’ve finished. Clearly (see how much I like the word?) not everything I’ve written will see the light of bookshelves, but I’m hoping for a least a stack. Are my readers–all ten to fifteen of them–going to read my stuff and go, “If she uses the Harry Potter metaphor one more time, I’m going to scream”? Is this malaise the result of reading too much and not having other hobbies like, oh, writing or taking a walk? Can you actually prevent this sort of repetition because this is the author’s voice for better or worse? My favorite author could no more keep from making Hades references than I can keep from making Harry Potter ones. We are who we are.

Have you ever suffered author burnout? Have you ever noticed your favorite author repeating metaphors and/or dialogue as well as similar characters or plots? Do you care? If you do, what do you do about it? What are you reading now? What are you looking forward to coming out?

I had to make up my own parody “Oooh, I’m halfway there, oooh-ho, writin’ on a prayer” just to psyche myself up that I was halfway done with the story. This is a lie because I hate the first couple chapters–loathe them with the fire of a thousand hells might be more apt–and I’m ready to pull a Sin, delete the thing, and start over from scratch, complete with reworking the GMC and storyboarding devices. There is something to be said for writing at least 4-10 pages a day, everyday, and churning out a book in a modest 2-3 month period. Nothing ever gets so old and stale at any point that you realize how bad the beginning is compared to the end…because it’s still in the same writing growth period.

But that’s a discussion for a different blog. Today is about parodies and psyching yourself up for being halfway there, damnit. It’s Monday–bring on the Bon Jovi!

Once upon a time

Not so long ago—

My hero used to be in love with his bride

But she’s gone on strike

He’s down on his luck, no bright side.

Evie wants a little respect, she’s strong,

The original showdown, can’t he admit he’s wrong?

He won’t even try.

But I’ve got to make them hold on to what they’ve got

‘Cause it doesn’t make a difference

If they like it or not

They’ve got each other and that’s a lot,

For love—I’ll make them give it a shot

Ohh, I’m halfway there!

Whoa, writin’ on a prayer

Give me another chocolate; I’ll make it, I swear!

Whoa, writin’ on a prayer

What sorts of things do you do to keep in the Zone? Chocolate? Rock music? Lashing yourself to your desk chair so you don’t wander off from your keyboard? What fakeouts do you tell yourself to keep going? It’s Monday–what are you telling yourself now just to make it through the rest of the week?

Invariably I’m drawn to internet articles like a moth to a flame; and one particularly boring work day, I exhibited some moth-like behavior by pouring over news articles like old people pour over obituaries, on the lookout for something exciting or titillating.

http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/07/20/i.write.like.authors.website/index.html

Huh, I thought, Kim Kardashian can write? When did this happen?

Well, then I immediately needed to know what famous author I wrote like. I hoped it was someone good, like Mark Twain or basically any of the people but James Joyce. I plugged in a few paragraphs of the current manuscript, and I got Margaret Atwood. Nice. I can handle that.

Of course, I wasn’t satisfied with just one response. I needed to know if I inserted another bit of my writing I’d get the same answer. (Positively scientific of me, I know. I’m just as shocked.) You’ll be scandalized to know that I did not get the same writer. In fact, I used the same bit of writing, but restricted myself to three paragraphs instead of five or six. This time I got David Foster Wallace.

Who?

I’m no longer bored because now I have to Wikipedia the guy to find out who he is. Hmm, not bad. He seems to write in a more satirical vein, so that’s flattering; however, he was also very depressed and hanged himself. I hope this isn’t something you can catch. By now, I’ve enlisted Bo’sun in this game, and she reports back to me that she got Stephen King.

“What did you use?” Because seriously, nothing Bo’sun writes is scary…or particularly psychological. Well, not freaky I’m-a-serial-killer psychological at any rate.

“My Christmas story I’m sending to Women’s World.”

You can see why I’m getting really suspicious at this point. Bo’sun’s CHRISTMAS story is like Stephen King to this thing? I start taking out all the stops. Excerpts from my first completed manuscript (horrifying, I thought for sure Stephen King on this one)—nope, I got Ian Fleming. The James Bond guy. Now that’s rather hilarious. A different piece of the same manuscript and I got William Gibson (Mr. Cyberpunk of Science Fiction. Riiight. My stuff screams sci-fi. I’ll be sure to put that in the query letter.) An excerpt from my historical novel says my writing is like Mary Shelley—that’s nice, that means I have a historical voice then, right?

Actually I don’t really want to write like any of these authors. Bo’sun said the Atwood comparison was nice. “You’re a feminist.” Yes, I agreed, but I also write like that Wallace guy. A feminist who wants to hang herself, apparently. Clearly I’m not satisfied with any of these comparisons, mainly because none of the authors I got were authors I admired. What I actually want is a database of romance novelists’ works, and then I plug in my stuff and see who comes up.

Here’s my list of authors I’m hoping would come up and say my writing is similar to theirs:

1.)  Julie Garwood: I love her ironic cliff-hanger one-liners at the end of chapters. I do that now because of her (at least I try to be ironic). Rest assured that’s the extent of the comparison. I’m no good at suspense…or hot, stoic heroes. Men of few words. My men babble unfortunately.

2.)  J.K. Rowling: A wild hope for obvious, sad reasons

3.)  Sophie Kinsella: If I can’t be J.K. Rowling, I want to be Sophie Kinsella. Only the American version, that is if we Americans can be as remotely funny, ironic, and clever as her British version. I don’t think we can, but it’s my endeavor.

4.)  Jennifer Crusie: I want to write her characters, but without the pets. Neurotic, ironic, plagued by awful family members—it’s like reading about myself really, but with far better endings. And lots of dog hair.

5.)  Lisa Kleypas: awesome characterization, phenomenal sex. I’m as likely to be compared to her as J.K. Rowling, but I had to add her.

6.)  Stephanie Meyers: I’m only including her because clearly her novels are compelling and who doesn’t want to produce compelling novels? Exactly. Plus I suspect my heroines sound just as whiney as her Bella, so there is a good chance this is an author I’d be compared to.

7.)  Laura Ingalls Wilder: You got me. Not a romance novelist, but really, J.K. Rowling isn’t either, and since I already cheated once…. Besides the woman was my idol all through my childhood and most of my teen years.

8.)  Eloisa James: Yet another author I haven’t a prayer of being matched with—my vocabulary consists mostly of 4-letter words, unfortunately—but damn, wouldn’t I do a dance around my work station if the computer made that mistake of linking us?

I could keep this list going for another four or five days. There are so many romance novelists’ works I wish I’d written or I could write as good as: Teresa Medeiros, Anne Gracie, Linda Lael Miller, and Jude Deveraux just to name a few.

So while I’m hammering away at my manuscript, trying to be myself, but in a Sophie Kinsella-Jenny Crusie-Stephanie Meyers sort of way (think of it as a homage), what authors would you die of bliss at having your stuff compared to? Whose work do you frequently finish and go, “When I grow up, I want to be like her?” And while everyone is in Orlando, what are you reading this week? Anything good? My TBR pile is shrinking and I need some suggestions. Eloisa James’ new novel is out TODAY and I’m getting it ASAP. I wonder if I can leave work early today??

Well, we all know the 4th was actually yesterday, but today is the bank holiday. Which is just as well because the crew is still hung over, the hotties are still trying to set off fireworks in every conceivable location–Alasdair! Put down those matches!–and we’ve had to come ashore to store up on more rum. I’m in absolutely no shape to think of anything brilliant anyway. Or even coherent. Everyone can breathe a sigh of relief that they were spared a blog about great the movie Eclipse was. Which it was. You should go see it today! Go! Where are my clothes?

Join us Tuesday when the Bo’sun whips the crew back into some semblance of a schedule.

Happy 4th of July, crew!

Today’s Hottie Choice is not a typical choice, but I chose her for a couple reasons. One, she’s Q’s second favorite hottie (the first being his wife) and I think Q is awful patient with us, posting half-dressed, dubiously intelligent men all the time. Second, Marilyn Monroe’s birthday is June 1st, and she was always one of my favorite celebrities. I think because I was enchanted by her power to enchant men, which I think was more than her looks. (I mean, the looks were the hook, but she had a whole process for keeping them on the line.) It was amazing to watch in films–or even in still photos. You can see the power she has over the people around her. And yet as powerful as she was, she was so unhappy. And never taken seriously in her profession, which I think she worked very hard to be great in.

There is this famous quotation by Dolly Parton where she says, “It takes a lot of money to look this trashy.” I think it probably took a lot of lessons and practice to look that helpless. There’s an art to making men look like the most capable people in the room–and I know it because men are so rarely the most capable people in the room. (Sorry, Q.) And she did it with a straight face. I think that’s talent right there.

Who is your favorite girl celebrity (dead or alive) and why? Do you think blondes really do have more fun? (I do…there was one Halloween I wore a blonde wig, and the boys were drawn to me like moths to a lightbulb. Funny really.) Do you have a favorite Marilyn Monroe movie? I love her in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes–you get two for one. Marilyn at the top of her game; and Jane Russell, looking gorgeous and flinging the snarky remarks. (The brunette gets the hottie in that one!) And there’s that pink dress…

Okay, that was a terrible pun. Never ask me to name anything, especially not your child. “Horace. He looks like a Horace to me.” It’d be awful.

Anyway, if you haven’t been hiding under a rock, you know that summer blockbusters are coming (Ironman last week was a particularly good one, I enjoyed it) and this week, it was time for the Scott Ridley summer blockbuster. Lots of action sequences, blowing stuff up, and people dressed in a bunch of crazy SCA clothing, screaming at each other and waving swords. (I love me some SCA!) Robin Hood is coming back to theaters. He’s been a favorite of Hollywood for years now; and because I’m just old enough, I am a huge fan of the often maligned Kevin Costner version in 1991. I even remember the movie theater I saw it in–I saw it with my sister and I didn’t stop talking about it for at least six months. It was my first VHS movie I ever owned; and I was very proud of it. It was also where I was first introduced to Alan Rickman (but that’s a different Hotties blog.)

Russell Crowe, his personality notwithstanding, is an outstanding actor. No one can deny it. He reminds me of Joaquin Phoenix in his ability to meld himself into a character until you can’t discern which is Russell and which is the character. Equally great is that Cate Blanchett is playing Maid Marian, and she’s awesome in everything I’ve seen her in. So although this movie looks like an overly serious cross between Gladiator and Kingdom of Heaven, I’m still seeing it as soon as possible.

In the meantime, I think everyone should pick the Robin who best suits them. Enjoy!

Which Robin would you be Maid Marian for and why? And which Robin Hood movie is your favorite? What Summer Blockbuster are you most looking forward to?

As we all know, I’m not a big fan of dukes. I mean, I like them, but I do find they seem to overpopulate in literature much more than they actually could have possibly exist. And before anyone reminds me it’s “fiction”, the first thing any good author must do is be able to suspend the reality of their reader into believing: That could have happened that way. Honestly I think dukes have replaced “princes” in fiction. For a while there, there were a lot of princes-without-a-country populating the fiction. Now that’s a fantasy: what little girl doesn’t dream about growing up to be a princess and marrying a prince? Especially if he looked like this:

Even if he’s just as likely to cut off your head as keep you. (Picky, picky.)

Then there’s Victoria’s sugar baby. Rupert certainly is sexier than a pack of dukes! 

But even the real thing isn’t bad to look at either. If I were only a little younger, born in a different country, and completely hot, I might have been a contender:

Okay, the last one doesn’t count because he’s already married…but he did marry a commoner from another country, so that’s pretty much a modern day fairy tale right there!

So: did you ever want to be a princess when you grew up? (Have the whole Cinderella fantasy, believe your sisters were actually stepsisters and the whole bit?) Anyone a fan of the show The Tudors? Anyone following the William and Kate (When Will He Propose?) articles like I am?

Our resident bartender is still living it up, getting manuscript requests, chatting up important people, and possibly recovering from a hangover of Faery glitter. While we wait for her to return and tell us how to beguile agents and win over editors, I thought I’d prance out one of my parodies and ask for updates on everyone’s writing. After all, that is what we’re here for, yes?

Okay, so we’re here for the hotties. Whatever.

Let’s get everyone into the mood. We all love writing. Especially our writing. Sing along with me, guys:

Oh, listen, sister,
I love my manuscript,
And I can’t tell you why.
There ain’t no reason…
Why I should love this prose
It must be something that the devil only know…

Phones gotta ring, emails gotta fly,

I gotta write this manuscript till I die—

Can’t help this crazy plot of mine….

Tell me it’s trite, tell me’s slow,

Tell me the dumb hero has got to go…

Can’t help this crazy plot of mine…

When I don’t write a line…

I near go out of my mind…

But when I sit with my pen and write—

That day is fine…those words do shine.

This plot can go to eternity,

Crazy and trite, I don’t care how it be.

Can’t help this crazy plot of mine…

All right, now we’re all in the mood and happy with writing again. Bitch and brag. How’s your writing been this week? Feast or famine? Mine: moderate buffet. I’ve starved more, let’s just say. I don’t absolute loathe my WIP this week (always a good sign)–could it be better? Of course. I think I’m avoiding writing a sex scene, and I’m currently trying to “recycle” chapters I previously cut when I thought the book wasn’t going in the direction I wanted. I know some of you are editing/revising and some of you are writing like the wind to finish a first draft by June. How goes it?*

*If you don’t want to share specific details about characters, please don’t feel you have to. I know it’s important to keep the magic contained. You can just say, “It’s going great! I’ve written X pages/words/books!” or “I’ve written nothing because I’m being held captive in a dungeon!” That’s fine.

Recently I read an article my boss wrote about science education and inquiry. He uses a lot of boring and technical language in his article, but since we’re pirates and have shorter attention spans, the term inquiry amounts to a bastardized version of this: nurturing people’s curiosity to allow them to investigate something (i.e. Why do magnets only stick to some kinds of metal?) without telling them what’s “supposed” to happen. You let them take their pre-conceived notions to the game; give it their best shot; then have them sum up the experience after the fact. Then you go over it again, straighten out the misconceptions, and voila, they supposedly have true understanding of how it all works. He was particularly scathing about the practice of “cookbook” teaching, where you’re given an assignment with all the steps to tell you what’s supposed to happen when and the answer at the end. All formula, but no passion or room for mistakes or taking chances. You may come to the right answer, but did you really believe it or care? Hands-on experience, I surmised from his article, is the best teacher to understanding and owning a subject.

To which I thought, hands-on experience and inquiry can also be the best teachers for writing a book.

In inquiry, you should come out of the experience having gained knowledge you didn’t have before—you are altered, you have grown; and with each book you write, I believe not only do the characters have an arc, showing where they change and grow as heroes; but we, the authors, are altered and grow with each book we create. We learn something more about craft; we grow as a writer; we change our perceptions—and audiences’ perceptions—about what can and cannot happen in a novel. Sometimes we come to the absolutely wrong conclusion, have to go back, correct the mistakes, but in the end, we know the subject of our book with absolute clarity. We can show it to anyone.

We should always tackle our books with inquiry and leave the cookbook approach for the kitchen. Romances, on the whole (as Nicholas Sparks will tell you), have the same cyclical journey. Most of us have read enough romances to recognize the beats of the story almost instinctively. First kiss, page 80. Sex, page 200. Black moment around page 300 or 330, depending on the length of the book you’re reading. There’s the inciting incident: boy meets girl or boy pisses off girl; and there are the handful of Turning Points, where you don’t know if you’re coming or going; and of course, the climax and resolution, most often resulting in a HEA or HFN ending. (That is, unless you’re Nicholas Sparks.)

The same beats can be identified in mysteries, horror novels, fantasy, and thriller. Commercial fiction follows beats. Audiences expect a satisfying ending of some sort from the novel: the guy gets the girl; the killer is caught; the ring is found or quest is completed; and the world is saved. Clearly there is a bit of “formula” involved, based on these expectations.

But just because a story follows genre expectations, it doesn’t mean it needs to follow the cookbook approach. There is still room for inquiry. You are still solving for knowledge you didn’t know about yourself or your characters, knowledge that you won’t quite know everything about until you get to the end. I think that is one of the most rewarding things about finishing a novel. You feel like you know something new and different about yourself. Something more than “I am a person who can write a 400 page book.” Your views, perceptions, philosophies, beliefs are there for everyone to read—whether you’re aware you had those particular beliefs or not. I think there are some perceptions and beliefs we prefer not to acknowledge or think about because they’re not comfortable; and writing forces us outside of our comfort zone of what we’re allowed to feel or believe. Except it allows us to do it through characters (role-playing), where it’s safer. We get to resolve our conflicts with these beliefs safely too.

A long-winded way of saying: writing is cheap therapy.

So yes, some days you’ll write and it will be like you can’t keep your fingers going fast enough; and some days, it will be like you have to force out every word from behind your teeth. Honestly that’s not much different than going to the therapist. Some days you won’t shut up; some days, you want to do nothing but plead the fifth. In the end though, you come out realizing you’re not as screwed up as you thought you were.

I hope I feel that way about this novel when I’m done: it’s not as screwed up as I thought it was. And in the meanwhile, I can feel better that I don’t know absolutely everything about my characters in the beginning of the experiment—that we’re all just doing this inquiry together, and maybe by the time I finish, my pre-conceived notions of how I think Adam should behave and Eve should feel will be flipped on their head. And that’s just fine. That’s how the science of writing works. You don’t know; you just experiment.

So what experiments have you done in your writing lately? Do you think you know a bit more about yourself after you’ve written something particularly hard or emotional? Do you read some books and think you know something about the author? (I’m reading one called The Accidental Bestseller and I rather feel this way; and some of Jenny Crusie’s books, I feel this way.) Do you like formula but hate cookbook, or does it matter?

So Thursday, I’m propped on my couch, eating my Triple Chocolate ice cream cone, researching for my current novel by watching the latest episode of the Marriage Ref. How else am I to know how married people behave if I don’t observe them? The first couple out of the gate is a good one. The wife is the one with the beef (as about 80% of these fights are); and it seems her husband embarrasses her (as about 80% of these husbands do.) Well, it’s more than that. He’s 38 and still pursuing his dream (on the side) of becoming a (white) rapper. He’s not exactly good—he’s still waiting for his big break—and while he’s waiting for his big break, he’s making videos and having fun and working at becoming the next big rhymester. Whatever. He wasn’t exactly godawful, but even an Amish country-music listener could sense he had a bigger chance of becoming the next Madonna than the next Eminem.

Anyway, not the point. The point is that the wife ticked me off. She gets into an argument with him, wanting him to give up this stupid dream of becoming a rapper. “Why are you doing this?” she shrieked. “Because I want to be a rapper,” he says back, just as passionately. “But you’re not a success! You’ll never be a rapper! Why can’t you get over it?” blah-blah-blah.

All I could think was, “Wow, this guy is actually pretty decent because he didn’t tell her off in no uncertain terms for just telling about 4 million strangers that she thought her husband was delusional and was never going to be a success.” Then I thought, “What is her problem anyway? Is this really hurting anyone? Has he given up his day job to pursue this career as a rapper or started using her in his lyrics—that bitch my wife stabbed me with a knife—or gathered some groupie girlfriends he’s sleeping with on the side?” It didn’t appear that any of this was the case. And all I felt was sad that this wife could not feel supportive of this hobby, this passion, which I still don’t think is as weird as being supportive of a passion like cross-dressing or taxidermy.

Alec Baldwin’s first quip summed up my thoughts perfectly: “It’s not like he’s a limbless guy who wants to be an Olympic skier.” And it wasn’t. Sure, the likelihood of him being the next Eminem is incredibly slim, but if it makes him happy, why are you pissing in his Cheerios? What’s wrong with letting him be happy? Deluded people are some of the happiest people on this planet. Let him the hell alone.

I realize I’m very much in a field where I’m like a 38 year old white guy trying to be the next big hip-hop singer. Opportunities are pretty thin to the ground, my friend; however, I also know there is no harm in doing the things you love even if the success you gain is not measurable by other people’s sticks, and more importantly, quitting is the most surefire way of ensuring you never get one of those thin opportunities. Stranger things have happened. You can’t win if you don’t play; and so long as you’re still enjoying it, why not?

We all know this though. We all write because we love writing and playing with words and characters and plot. But how do you keep well-meaning loved ones from, well, pissing in your Cheerios? When you get to a certain age, you can leave home and not live with your parents who beg you to pursue a real career like teaching. You simply don’t mention your writing—though to give my father credit, he doesn’t ask me to get a real career anymore, and so long as I have my day job, he seems relatively supportive of me spending my spare time in writing. But what do you do if you’re living with someone who doesn’t support your dreams, your passions? I get that as humans we’re not going to agree about, well, almost anything, but words damage. That “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent” is a bit of a lie. Maybe they do need my consent, but words matter. As a writer, you know this. You can’t let the inflictors off scot-free. They’re still assholes. And they’re even bigger ones if they’re supposed to be people who are on your side to begin with.

How are you supposed to deal with a well-meaning troll?

Do you have any well-meaning trolls in your life? How do you deal with them? Have you ever been a troll yourself? I’ve said plenty of trollish things, usually things I regret later, because who was it hurting really? Do you watch The Marriage Ref?