The HEA Cafe

My baby came two weeks early. She measured eight and a half inches long and weighed fourteen and a half ounces. Completely caught off guard by her early arrival, I was nonetheless totally in love the moment I saw her face.

I’d just gotten home from an errand when the brown stork, commonly referred to as UPS, pulled up outside. My husband answered the door, took the delivery, and handed it off to me. “What’d'ya order?”

The package was book size but I hadn’t ordered anything recently. I shrugged and tore the cardboard open.

And there she was. My first print novel. Operation Sheba, in the flesh. Or in the paper, as the case may be.

I wrote the first version of Sheba after the towers fell. It was my way of coping with a world gone mad. Creating a fictional world where good guys won and brought justice to the world gave me back a sense of control and from then on I was hooked. Spies took over my imagination, invaded my dreams and monopolized every free moment I had.

In the past eight years, I raised twins, rewrote Sheba twice, hired an agent, fired an agent, moved my family to another town and lost a dear pet. A couple friends departed and a bunch more showed up. While Sheba was making the rounds to agents and editors, I completed several more full length novels and a couple of novellas.

And then, last year, I sold.

Sheba came out first in eformat last September. It was a thrilling moment for me to see my baby with a cover and ISBN number, which was sort of like an ultrasound. I could see it, see the sales and good reviews, but I still couldn’t actually put my hands on it.

Nothing can compare to holding your print book in your hands. Just like you count the fingers and toes of a real baby, you flip through the pages, reread the reviews and pause for long moments at the title page, soaking it in. You put it on a special shelf and stare at it with a goofy smile on your face. You talk to it, smooth its cover. and hug it to your chest.

I wonder if the next book will get such special treatment. Will these feelings ever get old? Or will subsequent books be special in their own ways, just like kids?

I don’t have those answers yet, but I sure look forward to finding out.

Harlequin Romance Author Betty Neels, My Example

Have you ever read a Betty Neels’ Harlequin Romance? I challenge anyone to read a Betty Neels Harlequin Romance and not find it entertaining and uplifting. One of my favorite books of hers is Waiting for Deborah, a book in which she stretched her writing in many new ways.
http://www.amazon.com/Waiting-Deborah-Betty-Readers-Choice/dp/0373512570/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1244502508&sr=1-1

Other titles that demonstrate Betty’s kind of romance: A Good Wife, An Innocent Bride, Heaven is Gentle and Discovering Daisy. Drop by www.eharlequin.com and enter her name in the Search window and you’ll find that her romances are still selling out!

The funny part is that Betty Neels never set out to be a novelist. A retired nurse,  Betty overheard someone in her local library bemoan the lack of good romance novels. So she wrote one, her first Harlequin romance Sister Peters in Amsterdam in 1969.

An Innocent Bride

Betty wrote charming stories about heroines who were honest and quietly self-assured without being showy. Betty’s heroes are always the Strong Silent Type, masterful men usually with ties to Holland. Betty herself was married to a Dutch doctor if my memory serves me.

In June of 2001, Betty passed away in her nineties  after writing for Harlequin continuously from 1969– penning a total of 134 Harlequin Romances. Harlequin and the world lost a good solid novelist.

Fortunately her romances remain. I hope that at the end of my career, I will leave the legacy that Betty Neels did–good stories about real people that lift readers’ spirits in a genuine way.

I like writing in the winter.  There’s something about the crispness in the air that galvanizes my muse.  That, and the lack of humidity.  In the winter I can take my laptop out onto my Florida porch and look at all my flowers in bloom, and gloat over how my colleagues up North are buried under snow.  In the summer, I’m out for brief periods in the morning and at sunset, because in between it’s just too, too oppressive.

But you still have to write, no matter what the weather.  I meet people all the time who tell me they want to write a book, and every time I have to bite my tongue.  My automatic response is, “Well, why don’t you?”  I’ve learned though that sometimes folks just don’t get it.  The only way to be a writer is to sit down and write.  The only way to get published is to finish the manuscript.  The only way to finish the manuscript is to keep plunking it out, one word after the other.

That’s all I’ve got today.  But even though I didn’t feel like writing, I sat down this morning and plunked it out, one word after the other.  It’s not perfect, and it’s not finished, but eventually it’s going to be a novel.  Then I’ll be able to lie out in the hammock (at least for an hour or two) and enjoy summertime the way it was meant to be enjoyed.

Barak Obama’s battle cry, ‘Yes, we can,’ has touched the world in many ways. I hear people adding it to their campaigns whether personal or political.  For instance, Ben & Jerry’s newest ice cream? Yes Pecan. (from http://www2.macleans.ca/2009/05/02/yes-he-can-borrow/)

So I thought I would jump on the band wagon.

Yes, I can.

I can learn all the ins and outs of my new computer and it’s programs. I can figure out how to get back my lost programs (with the help of someone much smarter about computers than I but it will get done.) I can learn how to download pictures from my camera and then send them on email or post on  a blog using my new software.

Yes, I can… enjoy summer while coping with all the extra work it brings–garden, travel, company. etc.

I can figure out my current story. Someone asked me this week if I had a formula. Don’t I wish I could just follow a formula, do A, B, C and then D follows automatically. However,  I find every story comes to me differently and develops differently so I can’t write a story based on what worked last time. Each story presents its own challenges and problems. Knowing that, I have to work through the process of creating a story, discovering characters, blending a whole lot of ideas into a structure. Sometimes I have to bleed from the ears to make it work. It doesn’t always come together. I have to accept that part of the process is failure. But when it does come together in a satisfying story, I am glad I persevered.

Yes, I can.

“Every human is an artist. The dream of your life is to make beautiful art.” – Don Miguel Ruiz.

I recently read The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz and am trying to apply them to my life, because, hey, like everyone else, I want to help change the world.  It begins with me, right?

Only, applying the four agreements to every area of my life feels like moving the proverbial mountain, so I decided to do a test drive with my writing career. So far, it’s working. Better than working, it’s actually providing what Miguel promised it would: freedom, happiness and yes, even beautiful art.

Agreement One is Be Impeccable With Your Word. In life, this translates to stop the negative voices in your head and quit gossiping about others. When it comes to writing, you can apply this agreement to the voice inside your head that tells you your writing sucks. You can also apply this to your characters. In the beginning of your story, they’re lying to themselves and lying to other folks as well, trying to keep some secret buried or their feelings under lock and key. As the story progresses, they should come to terms with their truth, internally and externally, in order for them to grow.  Make this particular agreement with your readers and deliver it faithfully and you’ll have fans forever. 

Agreement Two is Don’t Take Anything Personally. I struggle with this agreement a lot. I take everything personally. Once I came to terms with the idea behind this agreement, though, I fell like a weight fell off my shoulders. It’s NOT about me. The way others react to me is a projection of their reality, not mine.

With my writing, I’ve learned it’s not about me either. It’s about the story. As the insightful Stephen King tells us, we should serve the story, not our ego. When an agent or editor rejects what we write, it sucks, but remember the rejection is about their reality. They have markets to abide by, budgets to keep in mind, office politics to deal with. Yes, the story is our baby, but it’s also a marketable (or unmarketable) commodity. The book of your heart is not the book of everyone else’s heart.

Agreement Three is Don’t Make Assumptions. Personally, I spend a lot of time reliving the past and projecting into the future.  If I’d only said this, or did that, or stood up to so-and-so, I’d be happier. As writers, we make a lot of assumptions, too. My critique partner said I better drop my prologue or no agent will ever sign me. The hero and heroine must meet in the first chapter because Bestselling Author always writes her stories that way. I’m doomed because I’ve accumulated five rejection letters.

Can you feel the drama? The heartbreak? The despair? Save it for your characters. Channel it into them. And while you’re caught up in their story, pause for a moment to realize you’re living in the moment when you’re writing. Not the past and not future – well, at least not your past or your future. You’re in the present, no assumptions in sight. Live it to the fullest and I guarantee it will show in your story.

The final agreement is Do Your Best. Unlike life, we can redo and rewrite our stories ad infinitum; however, if you do your best with every draft, you’ll end up with a wonderful story you’ll feel proud to show the world.

Even if you’re not a writer, you’re an artist of your own dream, your own life. Check out the four agreements, take them for a test run in one area of your life, and see what comes of it. You might just make beautiful art.