Happy Halloween

     I've been working hard on Book 2 in Tales of the Dark Lady. The tentative title is The Dark Lady's Troubadour and it follows Sir Loriano of Vayne's journey after he leaves the Karaskan court. He and a mysterious herbalist accused of witchcraft because of prophetic "fits" undertake a quest to the far-distant drakken mountain in search of a vital treasure. So far they've been fighting bandits and evading the witch-hunters across the Empty Lands. Who is this mysterious woman? The two have just entered a rich merchant city where drug dealers will try use them for sinister purposes.
     NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow and I plan to use it to rough draft my plot on to the next stage of the journey. (One thing I love about epic fantasy--there's no limit to the number of words.)

Tidbits ...

Life After RWA
     I get a lot fewer e-mails. I was on two RWA listserves and some days I'd spend over half the morning just reading it. At times I wonder what everyone is up to.

New Book Cover
    I'm getting a new cover for Dark Lady's Stone. It's got a quite different feel from the first cover, but it's beautiful, and I can't wait for the Create Space/Print version to arrive. I'm making little changes in the front and back matter to accommodate it.

Blood Moon
     Don't ask how many astronomical phenomena I've slept through, but I was determined not to miss this. I set my alarm for 2:45 a.m. and donned my winter coat and fleece lap robe. We turned out all the house lights--kind of spooky to navigate through the darkness--and gathered on the driveway. The moon hung over the field, a shining silver sliver. (Love the alliteration.) Stars were glorious--Orion, Sirius, Taurus, Pleiades. We waited, but nothing seemed to happen. Then zing! The red shadow advanced, creeping over the bright silver and soon the whole moon was covered. We watched for about 20 minutes, then the cold got to us and we retreated into the warm house.

End of an Era

     Well, it’s official. Today I received a black-bordered e-mail from RWA National that begins: “We regret to note that the final date for renewing your membership with Romance Writers of America (RWA) has passed. In accordance with RWA’s bylaws, your membership in the organization has been terminated.” 

      So ends an era that began in 1991. I wanted to write novels and, after every publisher in the country rejected my first, I was advised to join a writers' group and get critiques. I saw an ad in the paper for the local RWA Chapter and went to my first meeting where I learned why every publisher in the country had rejected my novel. I realized that I, a former editorial secretary with a B.A. in Creative Writing, had to go back to writers' kindergarten and learn the whole process from the ground up. (A business journal is not a genre novel.) 

      Lots of learning, lots of growth through good times and bad. Thanks to RWA I learned to write fiction (plots, character development, dialogue, pacing, POV) and tons of "how to be a writer" stuff, like critique groups, how to query and submit, identify publishers, how to find an agent, how to get rid of an agent. I felt really good about serving on the Board of my local Chapter, first as Secretary, then Treasurer, and for the past years as Newsletter Editor--again, lots of work but tremendous learning (I got to read all the articles posted to the Editors' loop). And I'm one of those nuts who enjoys obsessing over formatting and type-fitting. 

     Je ne regrette rien. But sometimes one’s just gotta move on, so I chose not to renew my membership in RWA. 

'Tis Fall - Autumn

The Naked Ladies have since died, and the plants look tired and dusty. Rain sure would be nice. The sun is slowly fading, and the year starts to wind down. I think of Dylan Thomas's call to rage against the dying light, to fight darkness with red passion. Thing is, when the light dies, I don't have the moxie to rage. I just want to find a hole, crawl down into it, and pull it over me.
But what am I thinking? It's another beautiful, warm, sunny day and the coffee is hot. Still lots of days to sit in the sun.
I'm plugging away at Book 2 of the Dark Lady series. I had to ditch a lot of great stuff on the heroine because it was too much for this book. Ah well, I can use it later.  Once this one is finished, I can resurrect an almost-finished novel about her early life that I'd abandoned.

Onward...into virgin territory

     Yesterday I finally polished/rewrote/finished the 2010 NaNoWriMo chapter where Our Heroes finally make it to Candelei after many adventures. (I do first drafts during NaNoWriMo.) It ends on a nail-biter. Their host informs them that the guest of honor at the banquet where Loriano has been hired to perform--and he really needs the gig--is The Villain!  And Tora faints.

       To Be Continued...

Review of This Time (Richard III in the 21st-century) by Joan Szechtman

This week I reviewed This Time on both Amazon.com and Goodreads. I gave it 2 stars out of 5

     The book was clearly written before Richard III's DNA-certified body (with mild scoliosis) was found under the parking lot in Leicester.
     The author wrote one of my favorite fantasies--a historic figure coming into our time so we can talk with him or her. The first part of the book (retrieving his body) held my interest better than the second (him trying to bring back his son and the romance with his rescuer).
     Although the author described Richard's missing his family quite well, he adjusted to life in the 21st century too easily. He'd have wanted to attend daily Mass. And being alone so much he'd feel vulnerable and exposed. He'd miss constantly being surrounded by attendants, squires, friends, family, etc. The author also had him learn computer search skills, when his real strength was people skills. Why not have him supervise assistants to do the actual searches? Also, if she wants him to feel comfortable, take him horseback riding. He'd ridden horses all his life. But instead she teachs him to drive. Further, Richard might be a nice guy, but he was a nobleman, and he'd have shown an unconscious (or conscious) arrogance to untitled people. Wouldn't he be curious about the current ruler of England? Watch Queen Elizabeth II on TV, read stories about her? Maybe ask to call her up and chat on the phone?
     But I'm rewriting someone else's book, and that is definitely a No-no.

Waylaid by Pandora

    Last week I planned to get lots of writing done--like on to the next section of the WIP. Normally I write to Early Music (pre-1500s), instrumental or a language I don't understand.

   Then I found Pandora links to 60s songs in my in-box. I succumbed and clicked on Pandora's box.
   And no writing. For a whole day I am back in L.A., smelling the smog, dancing around my living room to the Beatles (thank God I'm alive at a time when I can hear them!)-- at an Alumni Club dance to Creedence in a big Downtown hotel-- August '63 driving through the dawn with 4 strangers, NY to Washington for the March to "Blowing in the Wind" and "If I had a Hammer"-- The Mamas & Papas singing outside the UCLA Student Union-- Dylan "The Times They Are a-Changing" -- a whiff of pot on a summer afternoon ...
   I just now opened Pandora's box again and was lost in the 60s for another hour.