But really, do we need the hardware or do we need the hotties?

I mean, we need a planner, someone who isn’t just about the muscles…

Then we need the muscles…

And more muscles…who knows the importance of hydration.

All that heavy lifting, ya know?

And for Q, someone to make sure we build an adequate liquor cabinet for the good scotch!

Now, who needs what built and where? I’d like to see a swing to hang from the yardarm…a swing for two…

I must admit, I am not an expert. Of anything. But I find I’m quite impressed by those who are experts, of just about anything. I guess I’ve never developed the obsession with any topic to consider myself an expert in it.

Yes, I have read Lord of the Rings more times than I can count, but I am not an expert.

I have seen a lot of movies, but I am not a movie trivia person. Or can speak of movies with anything more than everyday words. No education in the nuances of the theater. Same with soundtracks. Same with television shows. No matter the genre. I like ‘em, I watch ‘em, listen to them… But it’s not the same.

I’ve got a degree in language and literature.

Still not an expert of either. Granted, it’s an Associates of Arts Degree, but it counts as somewhat higher education.

I found when I used to attend science fiction/fantasy conventions on a regular basis, that what I knew of the genres, no matter how big a fan I was, did not make me an expert. There is always someone at a convention that will be able to quote dialogue, character trivia or something that will make it plain to any small bit of personal ego that I know nothing. Absolutely, fricking nothing. (Geeks can be extremely hung up on the idea of expertise, ya gotta love that about them.)

I attend Renaissance Fairs…not a historical expert on anything. (I probably drive the experts crazy at the fairs. I wear earrings, the color purple, mix eras…but what the heck! It’s for fun!)

I attend Pirate Festivals… I am an expert on my own pirate world. But the reality of historical pirates? HA! Took an online course on the subject once and again, was humbled to realize I knew less than more. (So glad the festivals don’t care about authenticity. They’re pirates!)

All in all, as I age, I embrace the entire concept that the more I learn, the more there is to learn.

And I accept the simple truth that I enjoy learning, but am totally uninterested in dedicating myself to reaching expert status on … well… anything.

But I really admire those who are struck with this sort of dedication in regards to whatever it is they are interested in. Those who dive into those intricate degrees, or simply those fascinations that spark them to memorize, to understand, to make it part of their mental treasures.

I’m more of a flutterer. I flutter here, I flit there. I’m the sort who read the table of contents, the appendices…but seldom read the book in depth. I have a dozen books or more on pirates. I really like to look at the pictures and read snippets…

But I like experts! I find them fascinating. Generally, when I admit to an interest, they encourage questions and I learn. (Sure, some are jerks. But there are jerks everywhere.)

I know a bit about a great many things. I know wild flowers. I know mountain ranges. I know old school adventure books. I know fabrics (thanks to a Mom who sews.) Thanks to years at a metaphysical bookstore I know a fair amount about the new age and some of the old age religions.

Nope, not an expert on anything. I’d like to be an expert on any number of things. Irish history, geology, astronomy, astrology, archeology, dog training, baking, cooking, architecture, yoga, snorkeling, blades…

I love it when a book teaches me something. And I wonder whether these authors are experts or just good researchers. For example, Annette Blair has a series featuring vintage clothing and she sprinkles a wonderful amount of information about this topic in the books. Nora Roberts had a series featuring a glass blower that astounded me with the depth of detail she wrote. Made me want to learn glass blowing!

Eloisa’s series taught me a lot about chess in history. So many books with cooking heroines have honed my interest in cooking. Nevada Barr stuffs her books with information about national parks, some I’ve been to, some I haven’t. They are fascinating!

And it’s a nice passive sort of learning. I like that!

I remember watching Fiona of “Burn Notice” trying to entertain a child. Something she was woefully ill equipped to do. So what did she do? She played GI Joe with him, discussing the weaponry with him. Teaching him about what she is an expert in.

My most recent book? I did some research into the details of how a book is put together. The paper folding, hand stitching, etc. I have no idea if I put enough information into the story to entice a reader about the craft. But I enjoyed reading up on it, as it is something I have always wanted to do. One of these days, I’ll take a class.

What about you? Are you expert on anything in particular? When you write, do you use that expertise to add depth and detail to your stories? Your characters? What would you like to be an expert of, given any choice? Have you ever read anything that inspired you to take a class? Look for a teacher? Explore on your own? And for the sake of starting a fight, is being an expert necessary to a writer’s credentials?

A couple of weeks ago, Renee Lynn Scott offered up Renee Ryan’s layering method in conversation.  (You rock, thank you Renee.)  I don’t think I’ve come across a more beneficial two pages of craft instruction in a long time.  Maybe ever.  This was exactly what I needed and, since reading it, I’ve been pondering how this is going to make my manuscript better.

In my pondering, I’ve realized my characters interact in a place like where Harry Potter goes when he dies in Deathly Hallows. He ends up in a great white space, wearing no clothes.  He’s not uncomfortable, not cold or hot.  He’s just himself in… nowhere.  After he starts noticing this, a bench appears, then another chair, etc.  Towards the end of the scene, as he’s leaving this blank space, he realizes it’s King’s Cross Station.  That’s the sort of setting I give my characters, poor dears.  A great basic, blank space.   Props are included only if I’m forced to add them.

I also realize they don’t move.  Not unless it’s necessary.  So it’s as if they’re nearly paralyzed in Harry’s King’s Cross Station.

Good thing no one’s bought the movie rights to my story.  That’d be a really dull motion picture.

In some ways, this realization has been liberating.  I can see that the lack of movement and setting is probably taking away from my story’s overall appeal.   Now I’ve pinpointed this problem and I can come back and fix it when I’m done with the first draft.

On the down side, I have to figure out how to “do” movement and setting better.  Sigh.

I just picked up Elizabeth Hoyt’s Wicked Intentions.  Already, I’m amazed at how good she is at this.  Great movement, great setting, done in a way that enhances her great Deep POV.  She’s my idol.  I now have to figure out how to do what she does.  (*eye roll*  right, like that’s easy.)

So, any suggestions on how to enhance movement and setting?  Something from Renee Ryan’s layering handout you feel you do well or could improve?  Why, how?  Thoughts about layering in general?

**** This blog dedicated to Hellion.  XOXO.  Oh, wait, no smooches or hugs.  Just blown kisses from afar.  Like five states.

I had actually planned a different topic today, and was working feverishly to polish it for presentation to you pirates.  Since I may use it at a later date, I don’t want to give away too much just yet.  Mmm.  I know!  I’ll show it to you in code:

 %$#@!^*&ion as a Writing #$@!

Anyway, I was working along and then another idea just shoved its way to the front of my brain.  Don’t worry.  I’ve given up hope that my ideas will have manners one day, since they’re such heathens.  But I understood why it had decided to show up now, because last night I had been perusing The Fire in Fiction, by Donald Maass.  He is a superstar when it comes to making the writing craft not only easily understood, but easy to put into practice. 

Here’s what snagged my attention:

“What about your first and last lines?  Suppose you did a first line/last line draft, doing nothing but honing the bookends of every scene in your manuscript.  Would those little changes give your story a bigger and more effective shape?”

In my manuscripts, I’ve worked to make sure the first line grabs the reader’s attention and leads them to the next line, and then the next, kind of like handing off the baton in a relay race.  Each sentence is supposed to do its part to keep the momentum going, linking to the one behind it, and the one ahead of it.

I’ve also tried to punch up the last line, with the goal to make it irresistible, so the reader won’t set the book down at the end of a scene or chapter.  If they do, I hope it’s because they kept reading until Mr. Sandman cold-cocked them.  When their snoring finally wakes them up, they had better grab that book and immediately turn the page.

Mr. Maass describes the first/last sentences as bookends, which makes sense, because you want the stuff in between those two sentences to be logically connected, from beginning to end.  If they’re NOT, then perhaps the last line needs to show up SOONER, or the first line needs to show up LATER.

However, being the contrarian I am, I want to focus on how the last line leads into the first line.  That is an important link, because the last line is setting up the expectation, so the first line had better deliver.

Okay, I’ll be brave and throw out a couple last/first lines for public consumption.  I’m not saying I’ve necessarily ACHIEVED the goal of setup and delivery, but I’m trying to keep it in mind as I write and revise. 

This is from I Do. . .or Die, my romantic comedy:

Last:  I opened the bathroom door, weak-kneed with relief at how I’d just dodged a figurative bullet–to see the barrel of a gun inches from my nose.

First:  My hands flew up into the air, like I’d just walked into a stickup. 

And here’s a last/first combo from a manuscript I’m revising, called Bad Sex Karma.  The poor heroine has been dumped by her boyfriend, at a restaurant, on their anniversary, and after falling apart in the bathroom, she decides to come back out to exact some revenge. 

(Mmm.  Both of these snippets are in bathrooms.  What a curious coincidence.)

Last:  I jumped up and grabbed the door handle with such determination, I nearly yanked the door off its hinges.

First:  I savagely bit off a piece of bread, wishing my teeth were tearing into Bobo’s black heart instead.

So do we have some others willing to demonstrate their last/first lines?  Or how about some last/first lines that you like in a book you’re enjoying now?   If not, I’ve socked away some potential topics for tangents we can follow instead!

We’ve talked often about defending our genre. About hiding our covers and keeping our work under wraps from those in our “regular” lives. In all the years I’ve been reading, I’ve never felt the need to hide my books, and if someone disapproved, they didn’t tell me to my face. Sometime in the last year, I started telling anyone who asked that I’m a writer and easily elaborated on my genre of Romance…if asked.

Basically, to the world at large, I’m loud and proud about what I read and what I write. But for some reason, at the RWA National Conference, surrounded by other writers just like me, I found myself anything but loud and proud.

I lost track of how many times I was asked the ever popular “What do you write?” question at Nationals, but I know my answer over and over again was “Just Contemporary.” What the heck is up with that? I love Contemporaries and have for years. I like what I write, and have no desire to write anything else. To the world in general, I’m fine with being a Contemporary Romance author.

But not to the Romance writing world.

My best guess for why I do this is that high concept thing we hear about all the time. I have no time travel, no vampires, no fairies, no angels, no Dukes, no wallflowers, no SEALs, no FBI agents, no CEOs or Sheiks or Greek Tycoons. There’s no murder, no mayhem, no mythology mixed with modern times.

Just Contemporary.

What I do have is in depth stories about falling in love, dealing with family, overcoming hurt and healing broken hearts. So why isn’t that enough? Why does that end up with “just” in its description? It doesn’t deserve the “just” and I’m going to do my best to take it out.

When asked “What do you write?”, what is your usual answer? Does it differ depending on who’s asking? Do you prefer not to elaborate? Does your answer ever result in curiosity and a lengthy conversation about what it’s like to write sex? (I’ve now answered this twice in as many months – to total strangers.) Has your answer changed over the years and are you sometimes surprised by the reactions you get?

One of the extras on the 6^th Harry Potter movie is a documentary of the Year in the Life of J.K. Rowling. I haven’t watched it quite as much as the movie, but it’s close. Listening to my idol talk about writing, fame, and her life before is as close as I’m ever going to get in meeting her over a cup of coffee, so I hang on every word.

One of the segments of the piece is her re-visiting the apartment she lived in before she was published, a cheap little flat that is nothing compared to the lovely houses she lives in now. She had a surreal moment of walking around the flat (where someone else was now living) and these renters had her set of Harry Potter on their shelves. She got teary eyed—not about the books—but about how recent it felt for her to have been there, the thought she could still be living there if she hadn’t gotten published.

Obviously a “rags-to-riches” success like Rowling does not happen to every author. Jennifer Crusie had a blog the other day where she mentioned a statistic that about 90% of authors only publish one book. (How interesting God falls into that category, eh?) And Rowling managed to write 7 bestsellers. There are authors who’ve managed to publish 7 books but never rise above the midlist. Still…we all have dreams. Rowling’s dreams were to make a living at being a writer and to be published, which she managed. She no longer has to worry about making enough money for her and her daughter to meet their needs, no longer has to worry about welfare. In 10 years, J.K. Rowling had gone from living on welfare and doing a lot of her writing in a coffeehouse to possibly the most successful children’s author in the 20^th century. (Peter Cottontail might give Harry a run for his money, I’m not sure.)

Articles make her out to be an overnight success, but she started thinking about Harry Potter—got the germ of the idea on a train ride from London—in 1990; and she finished the final book in the series in 2007. 17 years. And of those, the first 7 years she was unpublished. Granted a lot of her writing involved planning out the other 6 books while she was working on the first one. That’s probably a lot of why it took so long to get the first one written, but there was also the fact she was writing with the little bits of time she had available between working, raising a child, and staving off depression. (Who wouldn’t be depressed in those circumstances?) But she did it, no matter how long it took. And she wrote this story, even though stories about boy wizards were not being bought. She wrote the book she was meant to write and she wrote it to the best of her ability. That is why she is my hero, even though success stories like hers are so rare.

Yet 10 years later, she breaks into tears in her old flat because even now, the success doesn’t seem real. She said she keeps the apartment in mind because if everything went away—the money, the success, everything—she could return back to this apartment. It was, she called it, a baseline. Pretty sure that never in a thousand years she imagined the success she has achieved with the Harry Potter books.

I rather like my apartment—it’s my baseline, I think. And never in a million years—a billion even—could I imagine the sort of success Rowling has had. My books will never have a midnight release; my books won’t be turned into movies. My dreams of success are in the Rowling realm of: “being a writer” and “being published”; and I would like to beat the odds of only publishing one book.

In 10 years, what would you have liked to achieve with your writing? What sort of success is beyond your wildest imagination of happening to you?

I realized I hadn’t picked a winner for the copy of The Fire Lord’s Lover, which I had promised to a lucky commenter when Kathryne Kennedy was a guest here recently.  I can be so forgetful sometimes.  Good thing I’m not steering this ship–hey, that’s not an iceberg, is it?  We’re actually running a little low on ice in the bar. . .

So without further delay, I’d like to announce the winner is:

Scorpio M.

If you could email me at AllAboutTheWriting @ hotmail.com, I’ll be happy to mail you your book!

Being the pirate I am, I infiltrated the innards of the Food Network and absconded with a few of their prize chefs. Well, I borrowed them, to be politically correct. I figured we need to throw an end of summer feast in a few weeks and thought I’d get the menu lined up…

Aaron Sanchez, cooking sizzling latin cuisine, sure to set the lips on fire! (I do like his fuzz…and dig those tats!)

Michael Symon, straight from the bowels of the Iron Chef bunker and eager to get some sun on his face!

Guy Fieri, promises to bring all the decadently high calorie foods from his hit show, Diners, Drive Ins and Dives to the deck!

Giada DeLaurentis, because Q deserves something nice to look at…

Anyone else watch Food Network and have a favorite chef to, ah…borrow for the party?

Yes, Hellie, I think I’m revisiting something you dabbled at some months back. I honestly don’t remember, but I’m gonna blame that on my age and all the rum. And my natural reluctance to address issues when first directed toward them.

I’m like that. Contrary. Dodgy.

I find if asked directly to consider something, I am blind to it. As if one of those eye diseases where I can’t focus on what is directly in front of me. I can slide around the periphery with ease… You know, it’s like trying to look directly at a dim star, you can see it better with peripheral vision than focusing on it. There’s a name for this, I learned it in astronomy class. And, of course, I don’t remember what it is!

From a purely psychological point of view, I think it’s my coping mechanism for gaining time and distance so I can consider the question. I am a reflector, not a reactor. I want to reflect and consider before responding. Even if I’m not aware I’m doing it, I do it. At least I’m figuring out that is what I’m doing! So give me some points here!

And this was one of those things I did when leaving the Award’s Luncheon at the Nationals. I figured I’d play with what she’d talked about…see what I could come up with after some consideration. I’d listened to Jayne Ann Krentz talk about the things an author needs to know. And thought it interesting, her taking the core of her stories from genre to genre. I was toying with the whole idea in the back of my brain, flitting about with what my core story would be…

Boy meets girl? Nope.

Well, no more than this is in most every book…

I generally suck at coming up with these things. I guess there is the damsel in distress…man, help me out here!

I left the luncheon feeling a bit bemused. (The desert was nice, but not the absolute ideal they served the next night, btw.) I found the Bo’sun and commented that the idea of a core to my writing was appealing, but I had no ideas what it was.

She, being brilliant, cast a look at me that just spoke volumes regarding my blindness. And as I mentioned some weeks ago, delivered to me my core. Everyone deserves a 2^nd Chance.

I think I snickered. I also bowed to her sharp intellect that saw what was so obvious…to her. I’ve been floundering with putting together a nice hook for my website and business cards, something that spoke to what I wrote. What my books promise to a reader. And *bam*, the Bo’sun slaps me across the face with it.

Everyone should have someone like the Bo’sun in their life.

Perhaps it is easier to see this in someone else’s work than in one’s own. Yesterday, Hal started a conversation on the cliché/myth of most fiction. I think what I’m looking for touches on that idea, but I’m not certain.

(Couldn’t help but insert this movie poster. So appropriate and a movie I really enjoyed…)

Krentz talked about her first book, being more in the science fiction/paranormal romance realm. Something that wasn’t really making the rounds yet. After numerous rejections, she rewrote it as a historical. And it sold. Same basic story, just minus the other world, funky critters, etc. And she really analyzed her work before figuring out how to take her core and write it in several genres. And sometimes things didn’t transition well, so she took on another pen name and began again.

I could certainly take ‘everyone deserves a 2^nd chance’ and write that story in every genre out there. (Not that I care to do so. But it’s an interesting possibility!) I think I’d be drawn toward contemporary more than any other genre if I did leave behind my alternate pirate adventure erotic romance stuff.

I do like the visual of this idea…starting from the core of a world and building the layers outward…

So, what are the standard core ideas you read? What are some that you write? Or hear about? If you know yours, what other genres could you see taking your core story into?

I re-read a book this week I’ve read several times before–Envy, by Sandra Brown. She’s a particularly favorite author of mine, so re-reading one of her books wasn’t a surprise. It’s often listed as her best, so again, no surprise.

What is a surprise is this is a book in which the author took a oft-used plot device–one that I usually abhor–and turned into a book I not only loved, but devoured for the upteenth time.

It’s the character-as-writer thing. Anybody else bothered by this, or is it just me? You know the book about the quiet, shy, romance writer who has a boring sex life and so then decides to have a one-night stand with the hottie neighbor to expand her repertoire? Or the book about the publishing executive or agent who has a high powered career despite the baby she gave up for adoption way back when.

For some reason, the peek into the publishing world inside my fiction drives me batty. Perhaps because my real life is filled with the publishing biz, I don’t want it invading my fiction. But I think it’s more than that. It’s hard for me to get invested in a character who is a writer, because it reminds me that I’m reading the results of…well…a writer. I can’t forget I’m reading a book. I can’t dive into the story, into the setting, into a new world.

Or maybe characters who are also writers feel so close to Mary-Sue characters that I just get too twitchy to keep reading.

But in this particular book, the heroine is a high-powered editor. Her husband and father are editors, running a NY Publishing house. The hero is a writer. Not only is the hero a writer, but whole sections of his current work-in-progress are within the book. It’s novel-within-a-novel structure.

Any one of these things would normally make me shudder. Maybe I could be talked into reading it once and grudgingly admitting to enjoying it. But to read, and read, and re-read, and dwell on, and think about….to be utterly engrossed by a plot device I hate, is rare.

The structure and the concept are cliche, not doubt about it. A novel being written by the struggling-writer-character actually inserted into the narrative. Yikes. But the emotion, the depth, the characters, the heart…all of it make this a book I can’t forget instead of just a cliche.

In a recent RWR article, Christina Dodd mentioned suggested we not think of them as cliches, but as myths. All cultures have them, stories that speak to the human emotional experience, stories which have remained virtually the same for millennia. Embrace the cliche, she says, after all, they’re stories we’ve loved forever. Just give it heart.

So what do you think? What cliche, or myth, do you hate most? Ever been blown away by how it was handled? Do you agree that cliches are simply passed-down myths, a starting point, rather than something to avoid? What cliches do you absolutely love to read over and over?