Mourning Has Broken

This is the tail-end of Memorial Day weekend, and I have neither written nor exercised in five days. I feel fat and stupid, so it's a darn good time to sit down and work on my mom-lit. The Smart Husband is on a business trip, so once the five year-old goes to sleep, I have the house to myself. And when he's in school tomorrow? Watch out, Brooklyn, it's party time! Anyway. I am hoping to get inspired, and less fat, by the end of the week.*

Thanks for stopping by,

Megan
*I promise not to be a ninny about the whole weight thing, that gets old real fast.

Blurbage

This is from the back cover of A Singular Lady:

For Love Or Money
During the Season, debutantes rush to London to find a man who'll fill their hearts with love--or their bankbooks with money. The Honorable Titania Stanhope is of the latter category. She simply has no choice--for her father has bequeathed his entire fortune to his mistress. Armed with velvet, dancing slippers, and a firm resolve, Titania heads to do battle in the ballroom in order to vanquish--and marry--a gentleman who can afford to keep her family from ruin.

Edwin Worthington, Earl of Oakley, wants nothing to do with money-grubbing young ladies. He wears scuffed boots and old jackets, allowing Society to regard him as the penniless black sheep of a wealthy family. But in reality he has a fortune--and no plan to marry--until he meets Titania, a woman whose sharp wit and keen mind are rivaled only by her lovely face. Can Edwin let go of his pride in order to follow his heart?

Inspiration

Yesterday, I wrote 2,000 words. I also did the laundry, exercised, put groceries away, played with my son, and went to my book club.* Today? I have done nothing. No, wait, I took a nap. Yee-f*ckin'-ha. I feel like a slug. Heck, I am a slug. I've opened my document, but it looks flat to me. And nothing seems inspiring. But since every writer has these days, and most get through it, I've got to figure out how to overcome my slugginess. Or I can't really believe I am a Writer, capital "W" and all.
Yesterday, I was all set to come home and rave here about Fela Anikulapo Kuti, who is one of my favorite artists and whose music is best for the gym. I still love Fela (a man who married 27 women simultaneously in an act of political rebellion, then divorced them all, saying "no man has the right to own a woman's vagina."), but even Fela cannot rouse me. I think I need more caffeine. More sunshine. More heat (55 degrees in May?!?).

Grouse, grouse, grouse,

Megan

*Everyone liked the book, which was unusual for us. We're still waiting for the next alphabetical member to make next month's choice. This book was my choice.

The Importance of Diversity

Just as no-one (save, maybe, a stubborn five year-old) wants to eat the same thing for dinner every night, so do people like variety in their reading material. I've been in a book club for over 12 years, and during that time, we've read books I've desperately wanted to read (George Eliot's Middlemarch) and books I would never choose for myself in a million years (Barbarians At The Gates, The Sparrow and Children of God, Foucault's Pendulum). I've hated some of them (Ayn Rand, anyone?), loved others (The Sparrow was an epiphany) and, at the very least, been glad to have been exposed to literary neighborhoods with which I was unfamiliar. It was through my book club, in fact, I discovered Neal Stephenson, who is now one of my favorite authors.

(The only bad part to being in a book club is dealing with some of the members' personal prejudices against certain genres. Mine is usually the only that's enforced, though, and that's magic realism. Hate it. Oh, and we have a ban on books with anal rape and Mummers, because we had a bunch of books featuring a lot of the former, and the latter is just plain weird.)

So, in writing this latest book, I've been having a blast interspersing traditional romance with other genres. I draw inspiration from all kinds of writing, and I never know when something will pique my writing interest. And, because of my daily blog rounds, I've found books by authors I would never have before. I just finished The Halo Effect by M.J. Rose, which was amazing--I loved the POV switches and increasingly intense suspenseful AND romantic situations. I've got Holly Lisle's Diplomacy of Wolves on deck after I finish Loretta Chase's Mr. Impossible. Last week I read Anne Stuart's Black Ice, which was startlingly chilling even for her, and The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-Time, which was poignantly beautiful.

I haven't read too many clunkers lately, although about two months back it seemed like I was indifferent to every historical I picked up, which makes me understand the currrent historical backlash. Which just inspires me to write an amazing, different historical once I've got the current book completed.

Diversity is a good palate cleanser.

Eat, drink and be merry!

A Singular Lady cover

Yay! I got the cover! I like it.

Thanks for viewing,

Megan

Galleys going, going, gone . . .

The galleys are off to Signet today. Yahoo! My son is with his grandparents so my husband and I get to be outside together at night. Double yahoo! Other than that, life is dull. And messy. But at least I'm breathing.

Megan

I'm Tired of Running From These Lungs

Unless you're as obsessed by the movie The Warriors as my husband and I are, you won't remember Ajax (played, memorably, by James Remar, later Richard Wright in Sex And The City) saying "I'm tired of running from these wimps" when he and his gang are being chased by some rival thugs. But I am obsessed, and Ajax's lines ring in my head every time I feel like running scared.
So I told my lungs to p*ss off today, and went running. Literally. It hurt, and it's a little hard to make the three-story descent from our apartment to the street, but my lungs did not so much as make a peep when I was out in the park.
I'll show them, pesky oxygen-purveyors.

And the writing is going really well. Galleys just about done. I lost a pound. Things are okay.

Thanks for visiting,

Megan

Lungs and Galleys and Sleep Deprivation

So I'm halfway done with the galleys, and liking A Singular Lady all over again, which is cool. My lungs (I am an asthmatic) are acting up, which is so not cool. I wasn't able to get to the gym today because of the darn asthma, but I was able to make my 1,000 word a day quota. Cool. Sleep-deprived son casting his histrionic self all over the playground concrete? Not so cool. I'm sleep-deprived because I went out last night and had two beers. Cool. Feeling logy today. Not so c--Anyway, things are getting written, galleys are getting proofed, I am trying to stay optimistic. And breathe. Breathing is very important.

Thanks for reading,

Megan

Mea Culpa. Crap.

So I'm talking with a much more knowledgeable friend of mine (her book here) and I ask her about my hero's title. In my infinite wisdom, I named him Lord Worthington, Earl of Oakley. Said friend confirms that his title is wrong. Which wouldn't be so awful if a) I weren't publishing a traditional Regency, which are supposed to be accurate and b) I'm the dratted President of the Beau Monde, the Regency chapter of RWA, so I'm supposed to be accurate and c) it was just sloppy on my part.

I am such a loser. Good thing I won't be obsessing about it for the rest of my life.*

Thanks for stopping,

Megan

*No, I still have not forgotten my parents buying me a spice cake for my birthday when I had asked for chocolate. That was over 30 years ago, and I can't let go. So this, my own idiocy, will stay with me until I heave my last breath.

As Usual, Nietzsche Is Right

My favorite saying--and the credo by which I live my life--is 'that which does not kill you makes you stronger.' This week, it was wrestling with scheduling exercise, writing, household stuff, play dates, and the occasional human contact. In other words, the usual. But I've emerged, relatively unscathed, and a bit more buff. Not any thinner, but 7,000+ words stronger. Not bad for the Queen Of Panic.

Thanks for reading,

Megan

La Musica! La Musica!

I've discovered the rowing machine at my gym. Being on that for 20 minutes is agony, but makes my back stronger. And since my hands are busy pulling a recalcitrant little bar to my abdomen, I can't read like I do on the other machines. So I've begun taking my walkman to the gym again.
Today I listened to White Zombie and Sly and the Family Stone. Tomorrow it'll be Groove Armada and more Sly.
I've been thinking about music in terms of my characters, too; my not-hero's theme song is Bill Withers' "Use Me," which is pretty much as down and dirty as its title suggests (it's also one of my top 5 favorite songs). My hero's theme song will probably end up being something by Soundgarden. My heroine, the trying-to-feel-better-about-herself fool, likes Des*ree.
Not that I listen to music while I write, it's too distracting. But thinking about what kind of music would be playing as they went about their day helps define their characterization and actions.

And, as my son likes to say, I'm cool with that.

Thanks for visiting,

Megan

The Power of Pissed-Off

Yesterday, I was in a foul mood. Foul. I scowled, grunted and complained all day (mostly to myself). I also wrote over 3,000 words, which is the most--by a lot--I've ever done in one day. I'm not so sure the family would like me in a permanent state of grouch, but I sure liked seeing the word total at the end of the day. As a reward, I watched Second Sight with Clive Owen until the husband got home. Clive Owen does rage like nobody else.
I'm less crabby today, but I'm hoping to channel my inner bitch and write a bunch tonight.

Thanks for reading,

Megan

I Hate Myself

"...I don't know/'Bout anybody else/But when I think about me/I hate myself." Plus, I hate that song.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. I had an amazing day: scones for breakfast, a nap without guilt, Chinese food for lunch, Marechal cheese and wine while watching Deadwood. Plus loads of hugs. So why am I so grumpy today?

1. weight gain. Don't know how it happened--honestly--but there it is.
2. word count. Not keeping to my 5,000 words a week goal.
3. forgot to call my mom yesterday. I tried, but the line was busy. I forgot to try again.
4. isn't that enough?

It's All Over But The Pouting,

Megan

Reviewers' Choice

My best friend, the Picky Vegetarian*, disagrees with me on this, but I cannot be dissuaded: people who post reviews on epicurious.com should only comment if they have actually made the dish in question. More often than not, a reviewer's comments will say something like 'well, I replaced the cilantro with horseradish, changed the chicken stock to orange juice, added white beans and took out the limes (my husband doesn't like 'em! LOL!). It was great, highly recommended.' So basically you did not follow the recipe at all and you're still presumptuous enough to post a review?!? This drives me insane. What if the reviewers at Amazon.com did that: 'I didn't like the heroine, so I ignored her. I really liked the hero, so I made him appear more in the book. My husband doesn't like that kind of villain, so I replaced him with a nasty mother-in-law (no offense, Patty! LOL!) Great book, highly recommended. Gah.

Oh, the writing is going well. Although I am a bit sleep-deprived. Can you tell?

Thanks for reading,

Megan

*she points out some people might like to know substitutions work, especially if you're P., like she is.

Do Unto Others...

The past couple of weeks I've been critiquing/copy-editing a friend's ms. The primary reason for offering to do this is because she's a great person and I want to help her out. The secondary reasons benefit me as well:

-critiquing someone else's work points up common mistakes, dragging plot points, unbelievable situations, two-dimensional characters so you can try to avoid them in your own work. Because if you see something enough times, chances are good you'll recognize it.

-critiquing someone else's work reveals clever plot devices, three-dimensional characters, real situations, and just plain good writing. Because if you see something enough times, chances are good you'll recognize it.

Along with the 'read as much as you can in your genre' advice I'd add 'read as many unpublished authors' work as you can' to see the work. The best writers don't reveal their work; it's seamless. People who could use your help show you how they do it. Or don't.

Plus, if you believe in that whole karma thing, it definitely scores you a few marks in the bonus column.

List: Complete!

My son returns home today, and I did everything on my 'while he's away' agenda, listed below. I saw Sin City, which I liked (didn't love, but liked), slept naked, wrote 5,000 words, helped edit a friend's book, went out at night and had drinks -- twice! -- and cleaned the house.

Yesterday I spent three hours ironing my husband's shirts because he never learned how, I'm a sucker, and I kept putting it off so when I finally did do it, I had a dozen to do. Procrastination is a bitch, and so am I.

Thanks for reading,

Megan