Courtney Milan’s Blog

Catch up, giveaway, et cetera!

August 3rd, 2010

So I am woefully behind. I have a stack of books many books high that I need to give away–and after I missed the first week of them (there were three that week!) the stack has only gotten larger, and my resolve to tackle the pile has shriveled to pea size. Nevertheless, over the course of the next week and a half I will be getting rid of Every. Single. One.

Seriously. You should believe me.

So, first things first. I am woefully late in announcing the winners from the Double Mistress giveaway, which was, like, two months ago:

Bonnie Ferguson: Susan Gee Heino’s Mistress by Mistake
Collie: Maggie Robinson’s Mistress by Mistake

And speaking of two months ago! June was a month that saw a lot of really amazing romances. I meant to post about all of these books individually, and give them away individually, but they were all released on the same day and in my fluzzombottomnation (that is totally a word) about not deciding which to post about first, and which to do when, I ended up not posting about any of them at all, which was a wretched state of affairs. In any event, here goes: June giveaway, in August!

One Dance with a Duke (three copies). I loved Tessa Dare’s first trilogy a lot–but in all honesty, I think that in reading her second trilogy I can see all the ways that she has grown as a writer since then. One Dance with a Duke has all of the amazing writing, amazing chemistry, and amazing characterization that I saw in Goddess of the Hunt, Surrender of a Siren, and A Lady of Persuasion–but it also has something more. I’m not sure what to call it, but there’s a certain depth to this book–and to every book in this trilogy–that is new. This is not to imply that the other books were shallow–far from it! Just that I found myself identifying with Amelia far more strongly than I had identified with any of the characters in her prior trilogy. Amelia’s a woman who just wants to make things come out right. She wants her brother, who is hurting, to heal; when she meets Spencer, the hero of the book, she quickly intuits that his arrogance is a cover for a deeper social anxiety, one that she wants to make better. She’s an extraordinarily loving, and lovable, individual. What makes this book so wonderful for me is that Tessa shows how this quality is simultaneously both her greatest strength, and yet an incredible weakness. I really loved seeing Amelia’s journey, and I adored this book!
I adored it so much I have three copies to give away. I did not buy them all at the same time, and yet every time I encountered this book at the store I ended up picking up a copy. It was irresistible–much like Amelia and Spencer!
The Irish Warrior, by Kris Kennedy. This book pretty much freaking rocked. If I were trying to describe it to someone, I think I would call it a medieval adventure. With explosions. Of both the literal and the hoo-boy-does-the-hero-rock-her-world variety. Finian is just an incredible hero–strong, stalwart, and once he realizes how much he wants and needs Senna, utterly willing to do anything and everything just to have her. He’s Irish, and Kris writes him with just that added bit of flair–no random bits of Irish dialect thrown in to fake the Irishness, but the rhythm and cadence of his speech just lulls you into the feel of the accent. You could sleep to the sound of his voice… If, that is, the rest of the story let you. But it doesn’t. Senna and Finian are in serious trouble: they are hunted by the English Lord Rardove. They’re going to win.
This book beat me out in the 2008 Golden Heart–and I completely, utterly understand why. It’s compelling, incredibly so, and unputdownable. I have two copies of it.
Skin Tight, by Ava Gray. If you read Skin Game, you already know how awesome Ava Gray is. But, seriously, Skin Tight is a step above that. The hero, Foster, has an insidious, painful power: when he touches a woman, she stops seeing him. In his place, she sees the man she most wants. A less honorable man would doubtless take advantage of this power, sleeping his way through a swath of womankind. But to Foster, it’s a curse. Nobody ever sees him for himself. Nobody ever wants him for himself. The fact that every woman sees him as her fondest wish is a living nightmare. He doesn’t dare touch any woman, and the more he wants her, the more he knows he cannot lay hands on her–because once he does, he’ll destroy everything she sees in him.
He’s a lonely, desperate man, and Mia Sauter–a brilliant accountant–is just the woman to see past his dark facade. I don’t want to say too much about this book, but I read it in one, long gulp, unable to put it down. And then when I was done, I went back and read parts again–and again–and again. This is the mark of true genius, and Ava Gray truly delivers.

I have two copies of Skin Game to give away.
Tempting the Marquess, by Sara Lindsey. Sara is fast becoming my go-to author for sexy, sweet historicals. Tempting the Marquess is no exception. This book is laugh-out-loud funny and warm and at the same time deeply emotional. It’s about Jason Traherne, who is mourning his wife’s death, and about Olivia Weston–who is both fanciful and practical, all at the same time, who wants him both as knight in shining armor, and as the wretched man that he is. Olivia well and truly tames Jason.
Also, this book contains one of my favorite tropes ever. I would say more, but it would be a spoiler. Let’s just say, all you need to do is tell me this thing occurs and I will walk to the cash register, book in hand.

I have one copy of TTM to give away. In fact, I’m sure I have more, but I have no clue where the other copy went. I suspect Mr. Milan is reading it on the sly.
His at Night, by Sherry Thomas. Like all of Sherry’s books, His at Night is gorgeously written. But this book is more than that: it also has the most complex plot that I’ve seen from her yet. Lord Vere is a man who everyone in society thinks is an idiot. He’s not, though; he’s only pretending. He’s been pretending for years–so long that he almost doesn’t even remember who he is anymore, himself, and has had to invent imaginary friends to keep him company.
Elissande knows everything about pretending. Her uncle–who is psychologically cruel, and inventively vindictive–has convinced everyone he is a saint and a martyr. She knows better. It’s not casual abuse that he deals in; he strikes hard, to the center of who the characters are. He keeps her aunt addicted to opium, unable to flee; every time Elissande begins to enjoy something, he takes it from her. And so when she meets idiotic Lord Vere, instead of seeing a moron, she sees escape: A man she can trap into marriage, and a marriage that will free her and her aunt from the nightmare that they live in.

Lord Vere, of course, is not best pleased to be so used, and the path that the characters take to find the truth of themselves is truly awe-inspiring to watch.

I have one copy of His at Night to give away.

So there you have it. You have 48 hours. Leave your name in the comments, listing any and all books you might want, and I will announce the winners on Thursday, and announce the next set of giveaways as well!

Posted in Contest | 33 Comments »

RomCon

July 11th, 2010

So I was just at the brand new RomCon in Denver, and have a few thoughts about it. A number of friends asked me for my final verdict–it’s a new conference, and so people want to know–and I started to write it up to ten people individually, but realized there was nothing I was saying that I wouldn’t mind saying to the world at large in general, so I am just posting it.

Cons

This is the first time the convention was being run, and so there were two things that I noticed right off the bat, which I think were the major downsides.

First, I think the author:reader ratio was skewed too heavily in favor of authors. I think as word of mouth spreads, there will be more and more readers, but as it was, there were too many authors. I say this as an author: I felt we were too numerous on the ground.

Second, I think that the organization was not always there. Some events were clearly planned at the last instant. Rooms were changed. Times were changed. Both happened on more than one occasion without any notification to the people who were running the events/workshops. The website was useless as a sanity check to see where things were. (Also, speaking of the website, aesthetically, the logo is ugly and off-putting.)

But this brings me to:

Pros

All the schedule changes and room changes could have made the conference a real downer–except that the people who were attending just weren’t the kind of people you could get down. The readers were really excited about reading. The authors were excited to meet readers (and, hell, each other). The people there were basically really good people, and I didn’t meet a single person who wasn’t determined to have a good time. That’s not always the case, and the attitude and positivity really made the conference.

These were people who loved to read (and write in some cases) and really, you couldn’t have paid them to be negative about books. The excitement about the romance genre was palpable, and I just loved being in that environment. Even given the cons above, my overall experience was very, very positive–and it was entirely the incredibly happy, positive readers who attended who made the conference not only work, but work really, really well.

As an example: The booksigning had a weird setup where you had to buy the books before you could see who the authors signing were. The authors didn’t have the books they were signing at their tables. Anyone who’s done a number of signings knows this is not conducive to a great experience. But despite all that, readers were adamant about finding authors and books they didn’t know–I sold more books than I expected, to people I barely knew, and it was all because the people attending were excited about romance. What could have been a complete bust was actually one of the most fun signings I’ve ever attended as an author, one that had a lot of energy and almost none of that weird, “I’m afraid to make eye contact” thing that sometimes goes on.

Some Random Thoughts

The events I participated in that seemed the most successful were a “Shock the Queen!” event that combined “Mother, May I?” with etiquette questions, and a historical scavenger hunt that required people to seek items from authors of historical romance. Those two events were highly interactive, packed, and focused on the reader’s experience. I enjoyed participating in them, and the readers there seemed to be having a good time. There were lots of other such events–I don’t mention them because I didn’t go–but I heard lots and lots of positive feedback from many about the other events.

They were, however, run by authors–as were almost all of the events at RomCon. I am a reader as well as an author, but I tried to put myself in the readers’ shoes. I wish there had been more strictly reader-run events. There was a lounge for just authors; I don’t think there was a lounge for readers only, and I wish there had been, so they would have a place where they could escape and talk about books without being worried that an author (or an author’s friend) would overhear.

The events that were about celebrating readers and romance seemed to be the most successful. The ones where I heard mixed reviews were ones where the subject matter was more author-focused. This is supposed to be a reader conference, so I hope that in upcoming years they tweak that balance so that there are more solely reader-run events as well as the author celebration of reader events.

In other words, it was a really good start. I hope RomCon continues, and my final verdict is while it was not perfect, the attendees made the conference, and I think that with experience, it will only get better.

And if I met you at RomCon, you made my conference. Really.

Posted in it's all about me! | 11 Comments »

My cover!

July 1st, 2010

So my cover for my September release is finally up on Amazon!

So? What do you think? Red is good. I like red.

I am leaving the house as I type this, and my internet access will be crap, so my apologies if I don’t end up responding quickly.

Posted in it's all about me! | 22 Comments »

Why discussions on historical accuracy go off the rails

June 29th, 2010

They do have that tendency, with people getting hurt on both sides, and accusations being flung about with abandon.

There are some fundamental vocabulary problems at work here. That is because people do not use the same words to mean the same things.

Thus:

When people talk about a “historically accurate book,” they can mean any of the following:

an attempt to recreate a period piece, in which the author mimics the formal sentence structure and word choice of Regency-era works.
a book, set in historical times, where the author gets all of the major (e.g., plot-dependent) details right, and the vast majority of the minor ones.
a book, set in historical times, wherein the author demonstrates that she has done her homework by including as much detail as possible.
a book, set in historical times, wherein the characters adhere firmly to the strictures of their time, without any deviation, no matter their (otherwise historically accurate) motivations.

I have heard books decried as “not historically accurate” or “wallpaper historicals” for failure to meet any of the above 4 qualifications.

I attempt to write books that are historically accurate as per definition 2. My personal taste does not run to books written to definitions 1, 3, and 4, although there is clearly a market for those books as well.

Right now, apropos Sarah F.’s post on Dear Author, there is a massive discussion ranging on twitter about historical accuracy. I think 95% of the disagreement is that those who are claiming historical accuracy is less important are talking about books of the 1 and 3 variety, and those who are in favor are talking about books of the 2 variety.

Posted in History | 14 Comments »

The Records Office

June 22nd, 2010

Did I say yesterday that going to the Records office wasn’t sexy? I lied. I lied very much. It gave me a thrill down to my nerdy little toes. And not just one thrill. You cannot imagine how many thrills my nerdy little toes had today.

Some examples:

I got to hold–hold and handle–the rolls containing the oaths of office of all city officials. I wanted to see what form the oaths took. These were 200 year old pieces of parchment. Yes, actual parchment, not paper. It was amazing.
There was a massive book containing nothing except parking tickets circa the 1840s, which, while printed on thick paper, gave me a wave of nostalgia for present times: Dear John Sheppy, you left your wagon in the street for two hours, and caused an obstruction; appear at the Council House and pay a fine of up to 40 shillings.
There was the book of informations laid in the Petty Sessions. Petty Sessions deal with small crimes. You know the type; hitting your wife, assaulting a constable, stealing pigeons, running away from apprenticeships and the like. Out of around 800 informations laid in the book I looked at, 4 were dismissed; the others were convicted. The punishments were usually either the paying of a fine and/or imprisonment; the normal term was about 7 days, but they went up to 6 weeks hard labor (that one was for exposing ones person), and were as low as a fine of 5 shillings for being drunk in public. Of the four instances where charges were dismissed, two of the defendants had obvious indications of wealth: One had hired a lawyer (there was a cross examination listed in the book), and the other made note in talking of his defense that he had “his gig waiting” during the supposed assault on the constable. Of the other one, one was accused of animal cruelty, and the other of breaking a window. For that last one, the court clerk, clearly knowing what to expect, had already written “convicted” on the line, and had to cross it out.See? That first line–C-squiggle-squiggle-loop–is the law hand abbreviation for “convicted.” I saw a lot of those. If you squint, you can read the line just above it, which shows his defense (or, as they spelled it, defence): “It was accidentally done.”
While we’re at it, I’ve always known that the Oxford English Dictionary, which gives the first use found in print, for various phrases is off, particularly for slang. That’s because most words are used in speech long before they are used in printed publications. This is particularly true for words that would have been considered obscene at the time: it would have been illegal to print them.But my margin so far has been around 10 years, maybe 15, depending on the word in question. I’m going to have to rethink that. The phrase in question is “bloody hell,” and the OED attests it first from 1886. But here we are in 1838, and the constable claims he’s been told to go to bloody hell. Now, I note that this is not quite the same thing as using “Bloody hell!” as an exclamation. Nonetheless–all the bloody hell naysayers should take note.
Incidentally, I liked this court reporter best. His handwriting was legible and not spidery, he wrote fast (meaning that we got much more story when he wrote, instead of a few lines), and he didn’t stint from using language like “bloody hell,” unlike the lame reporter in the beginning who started to write “exposing his naked parts” and then crossed off “naked parts” and substituted “person.” Once I figured out that “afs–” was his abbreviation for assault, we were all good. I imagine from his handwriting that this dude was cute. (I know. He was probably 75 and bald. Awww.)

I’ve blurred out most of the document because the rest of the tale is pretty darned good–it’s obvious that the defendant knows how to tell a story, and who knows? I might end up using this in some altered form!
There was much, much more. But this was seriously awesome.

Posted in History, Legalese | 7 Comments »

Historical ROMANCE

June 21st, 2010

Kalen Hughes has a very thought-provoking post over at History Hoydens about the difference between historical romance and historical romance, which you should read.

Caveat: I say all this as someone who really, really tries to get things right. Which is why I’m in England on a research trip right now. And I know that sounds sexy, but what it means is that I spent two hours today taking literally hundreds of photographs of the period maps in Bristol’s City Museum, and I will spend the vast majority of tomorrow at the Bristol Records Office, reading the City Recorder’s notebooks and notes from the Petty Sessions for the years in question. It’s why I spend hours with the Oxford English Dictionary and the Oxford Historical Thesaurus in front of me when I’m in the revision stage, checking hundreds of words; and why I ask Franzeca Drouin to look over my manuscripts for a second eye to accuracy once I’ve given it my very best shot, because I know I still miss stuff.

(Caveat the second: In my upcoming book, my heroine wears night-rails not made from linen. But she has them specially made for a particular purpose; in fact, she usually wears linen. As I found a few records of night-rails of non-linen-fabric for the super-wealthy, this fell into the category of historically possible attire, although it’s not historically average. She could have done so. She was motivated to do so. It fit the story for her to do so.)

In any event, Kalen makes the following assertion:

To me, it seems ridiculous to even bother writing “historical fiction” (be it romance, mystery, whathaveyou) if the “historical” part is optional.

I don’t think that the “historical” part of my books is “optional.” I work very, very hard at it. But I also don’t think that the history is the point of my books, either. Or, rather: I think the past is a vehicle for the present.

When Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote The Scarlet Letter, he wasn’t writing an indictment of Puritan hypocrisy. When Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible, he wasn’t trying to villify the people who ran the Salem Witch trials. And I am not trying to say that I am the next Hawthorne or Miller. But neither Hawthorne nor Miller were “ridiculous” even though they weren’t always historically accurate, and were not striving for historical accuracy. It would be bizarre to condemn The Crucible on the grounds that it was a wallpaper historical courtroom drama. That’s because Hawthorne and Miller weren’t trying to write period pieces. They were using the past as a safe space to discuss the present.

I write in the late 1830s/early 1840s. I do so not because I am completely enamored of early Victorian times, or because I think it is sexy or because I think that it has pretty clothing (because, actually, the clothing of the era is quite ugly). I’ve explained this elsewhere in greater detail, but I write in a time period where everything is changing: the notion of society, the meaning of community, even what things have value. Towns are breaking up; the industrial revolution is hitting hard, and nobody knows what tomorrow will look like. It’s a time of enormous uncertainty.

In other words, it sounds a lot like modern times.

Today, we know that the industrial revolution wasn’t as horrible as some feared (Mr. Milan, who is a Luddite, will contest this). We know that the democratization of society and the erosion of class boundaries was a good thing. We know that giving women more freedom worked out okay. It didn’t destroy the family. It didn’t lead to anarchy. My readers know that; I know that. And so the historical setting is a safe place to explore what it means when society, culture, community, and even basic notions of value all change drastically, with that unknown future hovering on the horizon, waiting to swallow your child’s inheritance.

I do a lot of research–hundreds of hours for every book. When departing (or even appearing to depart, which is the bigger problem) from history, I agonize over the questions for weeks. I care about being historically accurate, to the extent that it is consistent with the story I am trying to tell. But I’m not ashamed to admit that if it comes down to a question between the accuracy of the history, and the theme and message and feel of my book for the modern reader, I will pick the theme and message and feel of my book every single time.

I’m not writing period pieces. And that’s not ridiculous.

Posted in History, Romancery | 10 Comments »

Chased by Cows!

June 18th, 2010

Today was an adventure.

For those of you who do not know, I am in England. On a research trip. I’m spending a few days in the small town where the book I am writing takes place–in the month when the book I am writing takes place–and it has already been super-incredibly-valuable for a thousand and one different reasons.

The plan for today was to take a walk. My hero is in the countryside. He takes walks. So does my heroine. (In fact, they take more than one walk together.) And luckily, when I popped into the tourist information center yesterday, there was a handy-dandy guidebook describing 13 walks of varying length, all starting from the center of town. Score!

So I picked up one of them. Before I start, I have to make a confession: I do not navigate well. In fact, I have the worst anti-navigational system ever. In part, this is because I don’t know directions of any kind. In part, this is because I don’t like taking directions of any kind. And in part, it’s just sheer cussedness on my part. I wish I could explain it. My husband believes, firmly, that this is all a product of my imagination and if I would just try it would all work out. Ha ha ha ha ha.

In any event, this guidebook is lovely and wonderful, but the “directions” for the walks look like this: “Turn right between the large stones to walk down Mill Lane (not signed). On reaching the lane at the bottom turn right and walk uphill, where the road turns sharp right you take the stile on the left, cross the field to follow the hedge on your right downhill to a stile at the bottom.”

Which sounds reasonable in theory. Except telling Courtney to turn between the large stones to walk down an unsigned lane, and then to take the stile on the left where the road turns sharp right… This is not so much a good idea. Questions arise during the actual attempt. Questions such as:

“Are those stones sufficiently large?”

“Is that a sharp right turn?”

“How far am I supposed to be walking?”

The distance between some of these directions varied from 200 meters to, oh, 2 miles. Without demarcation. In any event, I got completely and utterly lost, about seven or eight times, and it was only with the help of three separate people I met on the way that I eventually managed to complete the walk. But it was all good. I had food. I had water. I can handle anything so long as I am provisioned with apples! (If I am not, I turn evil. Mr. Milan can confirm.)

In any event, once I found myself on the way again, I had these directions to follow: “Look for a signpost and some steps on the left going up the bank to a stile. Once over the stile go half left to the far corner of the field where you cross a stile next to an old gate.”

If you’re thinking this crossing field stuff is a little weird, since it’s someone’s property, don’t worry. There are signs that clearly mark the crossings as “public footpath,” and so property owners don’t get all bent out of shape if they see you.

The thing is, somebody needed to tell the cows that.

I know. I know. You are thinking, “Courtney, you are such a city girl. Cows are placid. Cows are sweet. Cows are not dangerous.” I know this. I realize this. In fact, as I started across the field–and as the cows, 20 yards away, began to amble towards me, I told myself this. I said, “Courtney, the cows are just curious. They are coming closer to have a look. Or perhaps, they are just coming this way because they are hungry. In any event, cows are not dangerous. You have nothing to worry about.”

Like I said. Somebody needs to tell the cows.

There were a lot of cows. Cows are very big. I realize that is a stupid thing to say, but one can comprehend that a cow is a massive animal, and then one can know that a cow is a massive animal. So here I am, these cows walking towards me in one giant herd, thinking to myself that cows are completely safe, even though they weigh thousands of pounds and could stampede me to death without even noticing I was there.

The cows begin to run towards me.

Now, I realize that cows are not exactly considered fast animals. Horses are fast. Cheetahs are fast. My little dog, who I miss very much, is fast. Cows? Are rather on the slow side. But so is Courtney, and besides, Courtney is sitting there saying to herself, “Don’t run, it’s a bad idea, don’t run.” I don’t actually know if that’s true for cows. It’s true for bears, though, and as you may have noticed, I am a city girl.

So, hundreds (well, tens) of cows are running towards me, and I’m thinking, “La la la, cows are safe, la la la, I am not going to run away from cows because they are completely safe, la la la.”

Then the cows start to surround me. No, really. They flank me on both sides, and they’re running to do so. There is tossing of heads. There is direct eye contact. There is lowering of heads in my direction. I don’t have a lot of experience with cows, but none of these things are sounding good for Courtney. At this point, I realize that while these fine beasts are about half cows, the other half are calves, and I start to rethink my chant of “cows are safe.” Sure, cows are safe, but aren’t all mothers supposed to be vicious? And… I had beef yesterday. They can smell it on me.

I am still not running. I am walking very, very, very quickly. Luckily, the field was not wide, or I am sure the cows would have done for me. I got to the stile on the other side and scrambled across.

Then I turned around. The cows were all staring at me. The word “bovine” usually is coupled with “placid” and “unperturbable.” Not these cows. Every single placid brown cow eye was narrowed in my direction, promising dire retribution should I return.

I stood, my heart pounding on the other side of the fence. And then I looked at the cows. They looked at me. I shook my fist at them, and said the only thing that came to mind: “Bad cows!”

They were not amused.

And then I snapped their picture. If you look closely, you can see hints of smoke, trailing from their nostrils.

Posted in Real Life | 20 Comments »

Courtney’s Quick Guide to the First Amendment

June 11th, 2010

I realize that there’s a lot of confusion about what the First Amendment actually protects.* So I thought it would be useful to post a quick and dirty test, so you could figure out if someone on the Internet was stomping all over your First Amendment rights.

Step One. Identify the believable threat the person has employed.

The threat has to be believable–that is, hyperbole (“I’m so mad, I could flamebroil you!”) and idiocy (“My brother’s dog’s girlfriend’s cousin’s lawyer is the county prosecutor, and he’s gonna throw you in jail!”) don’t count.

Step Two. Ask yourself, how bad is this threat?

“If you do not admit that Stephen Colbert is the best presidential candidate, I will have you executed by the government.”
“If you don’t stop arguing with me, I will throw you in jail for five years.”
“If you don’t stop criticizing my company, I will sue you for $400,000.”

Yup. These threats, if believable, are bad. They would have chilling effects. They have real power behind them. You need a non-quick guide to the first amendment, and you need it fast!

“If you don’t stop arguing with me, I will not read your next book.”
“If you do not admit that Stephen Colbert is the best presidential candidate, I will taunt you a second time.”
“If you don’t stop criticizing my company, I will compare you to a Nazi.”

These threats are threats to do precisely what someone has the right to do in the first place. In other words, suck it up.

Those who know about law will recognize that I have sailed right over basically every legal question, like the tricky question of state action, and any actual standards for recognizing categories of protected and unprotected speech. But those who know the law also realize, through repeated application of palm to face, that 98.6% of Internet free speech “violations” are, in fact, of the “taunt you a second time” variety, and so despite the lack of connection to case law, this is a pretty good test.

—–

* The only thing more confusing than some of the free speech doctrines (one part of the first amendment) are establishment clause doctrines (another bit). Luckily, the establishment clause is so confusing that random people on the Internet can’t figure out how to accuse each other of violating it, and so no quick guide is necessary.

Posted in Legalese | 2 Comments »

A rant about goals

June 9th, 2010

Here’s the thing. People are different. Very different. What works for one person doesn’t work for another.

Today I saw, for the fourth time in a week, someone saying to someone else, “You shouldn’t make a goal of getting published. You should only make goals that are in your control. So, you can make a goal of ‘I will finish my novel,’ or ‘I will submit this for publication,’ but you can’t make a goal that you will get published.”

Excuse me while I put on my cranky pants.

Why not? True, if you make goals that are outside of your control, you might be disappointed, and that’s too bad. But what the heck is the point of a goal? If the point of having goals is to be motivated, you need to know how you work. If you are the kind of person who gives up (or who is set back) when you face disappointment, then yes, make rational goals so you can cheer yourself on.

Me, I’m not. If I fail to make my goals, I shrug, because I know they contain an aspirational element. But my goals are there to motivate me, and let me tell you, back before I was published, I was not motivated by the prospect of sending fifteen queries to agents. That would have been a sucky goal for me, because it meant nothing to me. I didn’t want something I could check off a box so I could feel like I was making forward progress. I wanted something I could strive for. It wasn’t the prospect of submitting my book to a publisher that made me stay up until 3 AM some of those mornings, polishing scenes.

My goal was that I wanted to be published (in fact, my goal was more irrational than mere publication). Was this a goal that was in my control? No. But I worked like hell for it, and for a damned good reason. That’s how I work. That’s how I motivate myself. For me, setting piddly little goals that are in my control feels like… an office job. “Today, I will send five letters.” This does not motivate me.

Pfft. Today, I will do everything I can do to make my dreams come true, not chase down some arbitrary predetermined thing that I know I can do. (True confession: I see little point in making a goal of doing things that I already know I can do. I realize people differ, which is why I’m good with people who make rational goals–I just don’t want them telling me, and people like me, that what they’re doing is crazy. Of course it is crazy–but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.)

I have goals for the future that are insane–I know I will never get them. I have goals for the future that are somewhat possible. I can’t think of a single thing that I call a “goal” that is readily doable.

So, seriously. Don’t edit other people’s goals by telling them they aren’t good goals. And if someone is editing your goals, and it feels weird, just tell them to get out of your hair. I’m not saying that you have to write your goals all irrational-like, like me, but for heaven’s sake, if your goal is to get published, and someone tells you that’s not a good goal, the proper response is: “Why not? It’s what I want.” And don’t let them push you around. You know you better than they do.

Rant over. For now.

Posted in elsewhere on the web, publishing | 10 Comments »

Accuracy, believability, and the modern reader

May 23rd, 2010

I am in the very, very tentative stages of writing my fourth book. As in, I am working on the second scene as we speak. (I have written more than that, but I am going back to the second scene and adding in detail.)

This book is taking place in a tiny village in England. It is not some made-up hamlet; it is an actual village. In any event, the hero–who was born in this tiny village, but who has been surrounded by the hubbub of London and other, louder places for the last two decades–is standing in the middle of the Market Place, and observing to himself that nothing has changed. Part of his observation includes him making a mental wager with himself that the market stalls–big heavy benches made of wood, with tile roofs overhead–haven’t changed since medieval times.

Of course, we know that everything is about to change for him, when the heroine, who is very new, swans by.

But I wrote this line about the market stalls being medieval and then stopped. You see, to a modern reader–and especially to a modern American reader–I’m afraid that will come off as unbelievable at worst, or weird hyperbole at best. That’s because we are used to impermanence. Old houses are houses from the 1900s–maybe dating from the 1860s. There are old houses. Maybe, we understand old houses.

But market stalls? Those are flimsy things that get erected and then torn down the next day. They aren’t made to last ten years, let alone a hundred. It doesn’t make sense to a modern reader to have market stalls that have been there since medieval times.

The Medieval Shambles (photograph by Frank James Allen; now public domain)

But, in point of fact, these market stalls did date from medieval times. The medieval stalls were in use up until at least the early 1900s. Think about that: four hundred and fifty years of using the same market stalls.

My hero would have no way of actually dating the stalls. He’s not an expert in medieval construction. He can’t say “these date from the 1450s,” and it would be awkward authorial intervention if he did.

I thought about sliding this under the rug so it turns into “much older than I am” rather than “medieval stalls still in use.” But I think that the “medieval stalls still in use on a biweekly basis” captures the character of how slowly this little town changes in a way that “old” simply doesn’t. My heroine is not just jolting my hero out of his ways; she is unmooring him from traditions that are literally centuries old. Those centuries matter to the story, and the whole point (well, one of the whole points) of setting it in this village is to give my hero’s inertia mass.

And so my job as an author is to convey the reader into that moment, to make the reality feel natural instead of awkward. My job as an author is to make the modern reader forget that she lives in a world where the things that she uses will be relegated to the junk heap after three or four years. My job as an author is to make the reader forget about a world that is IKEA-disposable–and to do it all so quietly that she doesn’t even notice it’s happening.

I do not yet know how to do this. Maybe I will figure it out before I reach the end of the book.

Posted in authors are crazy, blasphemy, shepton mallet | 14 Comments »