Romancing the Blog | Romance Authors and Readers Who Blog

As RWA’s National Conference bears down on people, my office flies into a frenzy. Papers for meetings with clients must be prepared, all outstanding business for those same clients must be brought as close to conclusion as possible, preparations for any presentations must be made, etc. etc…. And, naturally it is also time to go over the wardrobe and make sure nothing new is needed for all the lovely evening parties and events. Last year’s outfits and uncomfortable shoes just won’t do, you know.

But…. not this year. Due to other commitments, I won’t, for the first time since I began representing writers of romance and women’s fiction, be attending the National Conference. Heresy, I’m told. When this came up at the Washington Romance Writers Retreat in May in various conversations, more than one person asked me just what exactly it is that I get out of conferences. And, considering that their theme this year was “In the Company of Writers,” it certainly seemed an apt question. And they’ve really summed it up right there in that phrase.

I get the company of writers out of it.

Let me be brutally honest. I don’t usually want to go. Conferences are a lot of work, and they seem to somehow eat up time on both sides of the actual dates of the event in preparations and recovery. Larger ones like RWA even moreso. They’re not vacations. The weeks prior become more hectic, and in the weeks after, a deluge of conference-related work descends. The travel is usually uncomfortable and rarely smooth (last year, for instance, I had major delays on the flights both to and from the conference, and this year, I’ve heard more than one person make a comment about how inconvenient it is to get into Reno). The food? Well, the New Orleans conference was great. I almost never ate in the hotel, and it’s hard to go wrong on a restaurant in that city. But, in many cases, the locale is not as reliable and hotel food, is, well, hotel food. I’m a food snob. I can’t help but notice.

But, I get the company of writers out of it.

I find that once I’m there and settled in, I can put all the hassle behind me and just become a part of the community. Whether it’s in a panel, or at the breakfast buffet, or in the over-crowded bar, the conversations are just bursting with passion and creativity. Sitting with my clients and discussing our next move. Reconnecting with their energy in person. Meeting new writers with stars in their eyes and faith in their hearts.

Cost of RWA conference fee? $340-465
Cost of RWA hotel? $159 + tax per night
Cost of travel to and from RWA? varies, but at least a few hundred dollars
Cost of food and amenities? another couple hundred dollars

Being in the company of writers? Priceless.

You’ve got a To-Be-Read pile as huge as Alyssa’s, big enough that your family has started to refer to it as Mt. TBR, and yet… you’re not reading.

You pick up one book after the other and listlessly put them back again. Nothing feels exciting anymore. Those same books which you found so fascinating at the bookstore don’t manage to hold your interest past the first couple of pages.

Or even worse: you read about the books coming out and… nothing. Nothing tempts you. It feels as if everything being published, you’ve already read a hundred times before.

Reading slumps. Few among us are lucky enough not to have gone through at least one of them. And they can be especially horrid for romance readers. Most of us read more books in a month than other readers usually read in a year, so, to go from reading one book after the other to nothing can be pretty depressing.

This is a frequent topic on romance message boards, and there are many theories on how to overcome a slump, but I’m not going to go into that. What I would like to do is share how I’ve managed to avoid one in the past 3 years or so.

I’d had slumps before, and pretty frequently, too, but the one I went through early in 2002 was my first since I started keeping a reading journal. Bored, and with nothing I wanted to read, I went browsing though my journal, looking for inspiration about what might finally manage to catch my interest.

I didn’t find that inspiration, but I did notice that, right before my slump, I’d gone through a couple of longish periods of reading exclusively one type of book. The first: over a month of only light and frothy contemporary romantic comedies, then had come a few weeks of futuristics, and after that, a long stretch of reading nothing but old category romances.

When the slump was over, an idea kept niggling in my mind. What if my burn-out with the entire genre was related to this habit of going through periods of reading compulsively in a single subgenre?

And so, I decided to try an experiment. I’d hop from one subgenre to another. If I’d just finished a dark historical, I’d read a funny contemporary. After a sweet Regency, what better than some spicy Romantica? And nothing would do after an angsty Harlequin Presents title but to read a campy futuristic. No more extensive reads in one subgenre for me.

This has worked so well that I’m still doing it today. I’ve just finished Nora Roberts’ latest, Black Rose. After that, I read Heart of Night, by Taylor Chase, a dark historical set in Elizabethan times, with a touch of the paranormal, and after that one, I went for a reprint of an old Sandra Brown category. Right now I’m whipping through a Susan Elizabeth Phillips and rereading an old romantic suspense favourite.

In the past three years, there hasn’t been even the merest shadow of a slump in my reading horizon, even though I’ve been reading mostly (but not exclusively. Ha!) romance novels. Not only that, I might be bored with certain aspects of romance novels, but I’m as enthusiastic as ever about the genre.

So the next time you finish a wonderful romantic comedy and you want nothing more than to read something just like it, my advice is: Don’t follow your instincts! Read an angsty western instead.

The other day I read a romance novella, and at first glance I thought its ending was wonderfully romantic. And then I read it again. Upon second reading, I wanted to toss the book against the nearest wall…unfortunately I was sitting outside at the time, without a wall in sight. What had raised my hackles? The heroine, a brilliant and beautiful PhD, decided to give up her career without a second thought to become a high school science teacher so that she could live near the hunky career military man with whom she’d fallen in love. The author of this novella came out of series romance, prompting the question: Why do many series romance novel heroines give up their careers for the men in their lives? And similarly, why do they so often give up their lives in the “big city” to be with small-town or rural heroes? Are these “let’s move back to the 50s/let’s move back to the boonies” scenarios based on our nation’s quaint ideal of rural life, or possibly the antiquated concept that a woman can never be satisfied unless she’s got a man to take care of her and a house to run? What precisely is going on that these books are romantic to us?

Several years ago I read a terrific Nora Roberts single title featuring a dissatisfied psychology professor who, in an effort to become a happier person, moved to Ireland to live for six months in a small village cottage owned by her grandmother. I loved this book, and it didn’t bother me a bit that the heroine eventually decided to stay in Ardmore with the hero – because her choices throughout weren’t passive. This wasn’t a woman who fell in love in the week during which she waited for the part for her broken-down “foreign car” to come in, or a woman previously itching to get back to the big city once her mother’s will was read, or a woman with something to prove to all the small-town people who’d done her wrong while she grew up. No, Roberts’ heroine actively decided to change her life, and changed it wholeheartedly by moving half-way around the world. Not only did she stay in Ardmore with the hero, but she decided to pursue her dream and become a writer, which again was not a passive act, but a courageous choice to give up the safe and try something new and exciting. To me, that’s romantic.

As a modern woman, I like the idea of choice, and I prefer for the women in the romances I read to have as many options open to them as is conceivable. That said, one of the reasons I enjoy historical romance is that the range of choices available to today’s women simply didn’t exist in the past. So I’m far happier reading of an historical heroine in the role of wife, mother, and caretaker of the home because those were primarily the roles available to her. As a matter of fact, I truly enjoy scenes in Medievals and Frontier Romances wherein the heroine cleans up the place (and/or whips up a plate of biscuits), probably because it’s such a foreign concept to me. And of course, it goes without saying that whenever PBS or BBCA airs a “reality series” putting modern people in historic settings, I’m there with the popcorn for every episode. But while “a woman’s place is in the home” may be historically accurate, it’s not a concept most of us accept as modern women. Which leads me to wonder whether all of us who grew up wanting careers like our brothers expected secretly yearned instead for the life of Margaret Anderson, or if too many of those who write romance novels see Margaret Anderson as their model of femininity rather than Barbara Jordan or Carly Fiorina. Don’t get me wrong…I loved watching Margaret Anderson on UHF channel re-runs growing up…but even then she was the type of fictional TV mom I never knew in real life.

Hey, there’s nothing wrong with fantasy…but wouldn’t it be great if the new fantasy wasn’t such an old one?

TTFN, Laurie Likes Books

I’ve just been told by another reader that — — my books are very “romance-y” for chick lit. Here’s a secret: I know!! I LIKE romance! I love happy endings, and adore men, and find the entire interaction between men and women endlessly fascinating. In my opinion, what makes chick lit a little bit different from traditional romance is the focus on the protagonist’s journey, rather than the hero-heroine relationship. But that doesn’t mean there can’t be one! Or that the relationship can’t turn out happily.

There has been a lot of furor lately over literary sniping at chick lit authors, and I know that my friends who write more traditional romance are saying, “Yeah, take a number. We’ve been dealing with it for years.” And sometimes even I, who usually love to jump into a good controversy, just want to take a step back.

Because, here’s the deal: I write funny books. I write funny books that are romantic. I write funny books that are romantic and (at least it’s the goal, and my readers reassure me I’m doing okay) entertaining.

There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, there’s a hell of a lot right with it.

One of my prized possessions is a handwritten note the Pulitzer-prize winning humorist, Dave Barry, wrote to me with a quote for my first book. He’s the funniest man in the world, in my opinion, and he won a Pulitzer, for goodness’ sake. You want to talk about highbrow? The man writes booger jokes.

But when I went through rough times with my mom’s illness, or when my husband was deployed to Afghanistan immediately after 9/11, guess what books I turned to? That’s right. The ones that made me laugh, like Dave’s. And the ones that let me escape, like all the wonderful romances that end with happily-ever-after. I treasure the reader letters I get that say “you kept me up late reading and I was late for work.” But the ones that say “I’ve been having a tough time, and you made me laugh when I hadn’t laughed for a while” or “Thank you for that happy ending; it gives me hope that I may have one of my own some day” – those are the ones that make me cry.

Hi. I’m Alesia Holliday, and I write funny, romantic books. I’m so proud of that – and I don’t need anybody else to approve, or respect me. I got tons of respect as a trial lawyer and, let me tell you, writing romance is WAY more fun!

Let’s hear it for entertainment.
Hugs,
Alesia

Man, I love my computer.

And that’s not just because I don’t have a real social life. It’s not because it makes it easy to do research, or because it allows me to join overseas writers’ organisations, or because it lets me ask my editor a question any hour of the night. (I only get the answer during the day, but I can at least ASK at night.)

It’s not because it plays music or because I can post pictures of beautiful men on it (currently Ewan McGregor). It’s not because I can catch up on other writers’ blogs or visit on message boards or follow trends in the publishing industry.

Nope. I like all those things, but there is only one reason why I love my computer rather than merely like it: My computer was the first thing that made me feel like a real writer.

Before I got this computer I used to write longhand. Which I still do, especially when I’m stuck, because drawing in the margins gets me unstuck. I started my first romance novel on a blueberry farm in Maine and I finished it in a campground in Greece, in two separate notebooks. But buying this computer, in 2000, allowed me to type up my story and prepare it for submission.

And that was what made all the difference, between being somebody who wrote for fun and somebody who wrote to get published.

This computer that I’m typing on now has prepared every submission I have ever made. It holds, within its coded memory, all of the emotions I have put into fiction for the past five years. It holds all the typed-up rejection letters, it holds the emails from my critique partners, it holds the online party that eHarlequin threw me when I sold my first book. It’s all in there. I can copy it somewhere else, but this computer did whatever computers do to transform thought into text.

And besides, look at the picture above. It’s cute. It’s dinky. It’s ORANGE.

I’ve always had a tendency to get very attached to physical objects. I have shoes I can’t throw out because I remember being happy in them. When I sold my last car, I made a special effort to introduce my new car to my old car just so the old car wouldn’t feel so snubbed. I still visit my old car occasionally.

So the signs of this computer’s old age are hitting me pretty hard. The wheezing of its fan. The dimming of its screen. The fact that newer, flasher computers won’t talk to its superannuated Mac OS9 any more.

It’s ironic: because this computer has helped me become a published writer, I’ve got to get rid of it. It’s just too risky to have my writing career depend on a Mac that’s way past its prime. This is the last book I’ll write on the orange Mac; I’m using my advance from it to buy a new, faster, smaller, quieter, safer, less orange Mac.

And I’ll start typing my new dreams into it.

Before that, though, maybe I should get a social life.

I’m not a shopaholic, but I confess I have a weakness for shoes and purses. Can’t own enough of them. When I saw a colorful purse emblazoned with the slogan ‘Nice Girls Finish First’, it fell into the ‘must have’ category. You know—want, need, MUST HAVE! That slogan made me smile. It made me pump my fist in the air and shout, “Go, nice girls!” Why? Because I’m a nice girl, and, believe it or not, I’ve achieved some pretty amazing accomplishments in my life, including realizing my publishing dream and snagging my real-life hero, by remaining true to my nice girl self.

These days, kick-ass heroines are all the rage—strong women with attitude. Not just in romantic fiction, but everywhere. It’s hip to have a snarky edge. It’s fashionable to stand fearless in the presence of danger. Ms. Popular is the confident heroine who kicks evil-doer ass.

Don’t get me wrong. I like reading books that feature kick-ass heroines. I even wrote one. She’s featured in my latest release and I had a blast living in her lethal high-heels for an adventurous few months. But typically I like to read stories that feature women like me. Polite women. Shy women. Women who never think of that witty comeback until it’s too late to be effective. Women who don’t know how to change a flat tire, but try. I don’t need a man to survive, but I surely like having my man around. The thought of him rushing to rescue me from the bad guys makes my romantic heart flutter.

There. I said it. I’m seduced by the idea of a man defending my honor and guarding my safety. It’s chivalrous and, yes, darnit, sexy! I’m unfashionably old-fashioned. Can I defend my own honor? Extract myself from a dicey situation? Yes. I can and I have. Nice girl does not equal weak girl. Nice girls can, and do, finish first.

Thankfully there are authors out there who still celebrate this kind of heroine. Julie Garwood is a prime example. I could name several other authors who feature nice-girl heroines, as those are the books that make up the bulk of my ‘keeper’ shelves, but just now I’ll focus on my newest discovery: Rexanne Becnel. I had the pleasure of reading an advance copy of ‘Old Boyfriends’, a Harlequin NEXT, set for release August 2005. This story features three heroines, two of whom I’d describe as ‘nice girls’. They suffer the same or similar insecurities, fears, and physical limitations as me. I could totally identify with these women who struggled to overcome emotional and physical issues. I cheered as they pursued true happiness and love through inner strength and perseverance.

That’s the thing about us nice girls. We may look like pushovers, but we’re not. We possess a fierce inner strength. We don’t slice and dice our opponents with sharp words—until they attack a friend or family member, or otherwise push us to our emotional limit, and then WATCH OUT. If a villain attacks, we may not possess a gun or martial arts training, but we’ll find a way to defend ourselves and loved ones, even if it means beaning the bad guy with a frying pan. Like I said: Nice girl does not equal weak girl.

That said, many of us go out of our way to avoid confrontation, and that includes publicly admitting that we indulge in the occasional rescue fantasy. So I figured I’d pipe up for the quiet few (or many). I, for one, will never tire of the Cinderella story, as long as it’s told in a fresh, compelling way. Bring on the social misfits, the damsels in distress. Give me a gallant knight or a chivalrous Navy Seal. The thrill factor for me in these slightly out-of-fashion tales is when the kitten transforms into the lioness. When, to the alpha hero’s horror, the heroine aids in her own escape by outwitting the villain with words or that deadly frying pan. Go, woman, go! I want a heroine I can relate to, a heroine to root for. A heroine who surprises the hell out of everybody in a crisis situation. These women exist and they’re every bit as admirable as Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Sidney Bristow of ‘Alias’.

I’m on the lookout for a new purse with a new slogan. Nice girls kick butt too!

I belong to that generation known as the Baby Boomers, born between the years1946 and 1964. Just shortly, many members of my generation are going to begin retiring.

Why should that matter to the romance genre?

Well, for a number of reasons. For one thing, statistics show that Baby Boomers buy
considerably more books than do members of Generation X or the Millennium Generation (also known as Generation Y), and according to one study, women aged 45-54 are forty-eight percent more likely to buy books in quantity.

Many in the publishing industry are hoping that as these Baby Boomers start to retire and have more leisure time, they will spend even more money buying books. But will they—and will they do so within the romance genre?

The answers to those questions are difficult to predict and, obviously, will depend on several different factors. So it will be interesting to find out.

Like everyone else these days, Baby Boomers have dozens of leisure activities besides reading competing for their time and interest. DIY projects, gardening, grandchildren, quilting, and travel are just some of those mentioned by my friends whenever this topic arises.

As might be expected, Baby Boomers also have a variety of opinions about the romance genre. Among my friends, some are happy to read about heroines of any age, while others want to read only about heroines their own age. However, the former have little or no interest in chick lit, and the latter seem to be more interested in women’s fiction and point to authors like Maeve Binchy, Barbara Taylor Bradford, Rosamond Pilcher, Belva Plain, and Anne Rivers Siddons as some of those whose work they have enjoyed over the years.

Many of my friends spend a lot of time rereading old keepers from the romance genre. Author Mary Stewart is cited more often than any other as a perennial favorite.

In fact, one of the main things I always hear when I talk to my friends about reading is that their taste in fiction hasn’t changed much at all over the years.

We’re the generation who grew up reading the romantic suspense of authors like Daphne du Maurier, Victoria Holt, Helen MacInnes, Mary Stewart, and Phyllis A. Whitney; and the romantic sagas of authors like Catherine Gaskin, Susan Howatch, Brenda Jagger, Malcolm MacDonald, and Frank Yerby.

Because our taste in fiction has remained fairly consistent over the years, many of us still adore the works of these authors and others like them. So these are some of the kinds of books we still look for on today’s bookshelves.

What authors did you grow up reading? Who were your own favorites? Has your own taste in fiction changed over the years or, like that of my friends, stayed pretty much the same? If it has changed, how? If it hasn’t changed, what would you like to see in the romance market that you don’t see there now?

Wow, how things are changing. You know that, of course. If you’re involved in the romance industry in any capacity, you’ve heard the announcements–lines closing, new lines formed, existing lines changing their focus. Editors quitting, getting fired, moving around. What was out is in and vice versa. Chick-lit and paranormal are in. And if you can write a paranormal chick-lit, that much better.

Are cowboys in or out? What about babies and brides? Are those Gothics on the shelves? And are these hot romantica books a fad, a trend, or something that’s here to stay? Hey, maybe the world is ready for a Christian Gothic!

As a person with some perspective on this industry (translation–I’m old and I’ve been writing since before dirt was invented) I’ve been smugly watching people panic and scramble and endlessly ruminate about whether this line or that line would survive, and if so, what sort of book would the editors want. I’ve watched other writers turn themselves inside out to write what they perceive as “hot,” and I’ve thought, they’ll learn. I’d seen change before. I’d survived line closings, editor shuffles, plunging sales numbers, and getting dropped from a line.

I don’t panic easily anymore.

But even I’m getting uneasy at the rate of change, which seems to be accelerating. Trends are of shorter duration. If a line at Harlequin doesn’t take off immediately, it gets the axe. An author is given less of a chance to build her audience.

I’ve always believed I was a survivor. I know I can write. I know I can write a decent book. I consistently get good reviews–well, most of the time. But now I’m wondering. Is there really a place for me in today’s marketplace? Can I write what’s hot? Do I even want to?

My recent hunt for an agent has added fuel to the fire of my confusion. One big-name agent nibbled at my “funny paranormal” proposal. But when I talked about my dark romantic suspense, she just changed the subject and wanted to know if I had any more paranormal. She was looking for quick sales that required no work on her part. If I’m out of step, then it’s on to the next hot author, the next trend. Who has time to develop an author anymore?

Will things settle down? Or will this state of flux be with us for the next generation? Will the rate of change continue to accelerate? Editors are always claiming they’re just looking for “a good book,” but is there room anymore for simply “a good book,” or does it have to be riding the wave of a trend? Obviously some publishers have to take chances with fresh ideas, or trends wouldn’t be born at all. But what about those of us who aren’t trendsetters? Is there hope for us, or will we be left by the wayside?

I don’t mean to be morose here. I’m actually kind of excited about all the new opportunities. But for the first time in a long time, I’m really scared, too.

If you spend much time perusing romance discussion blogs or websites, you’ll hear a fairly common refrain: why are the romance shelves populated with so many similar books? Duplicate plot ideas, overused settings, cookie-cutter heroes (or heroines or whatever overplayed aspect of a romance novel you want to cite) all repeatedly surfacing until readers’ heads spin. A parade of sameness, if you will. I believe someone on this blog once suggested that authors might consider reading within their own subgenre as a means to avoid this Parade of Sameness, and after a while of ruminating on that suggestion, I thought I would weigh in with an agent’s perspective on the issue.

First, I should warn you that while I have plenty to say on this topic, I do find the task a bit daunting. It’s the old problem of just how much one should really say about the industry or one’s professional cohorts. So let me preface my remarks this way—I love the editors and publishing professionals with whom I do business on a day-to-day basis. Nothing here is meant as a personal indictment of any single person. We’re all just trying to find a way to make books stand out in an extremely sluggish book-buying economy, but that said I happen to believe that risk-takers rise to the top. I also believe that if you mold every work to the exact same shape (or perhaps I’m being overly generous, and that’s just pencils being sharpened as they’re applied to the bottom line), then you’ve lost the ability to say something truly innovative. And when you cease to be innovative in this business, you cease to find the pulse of your readership—that next really big thing. All you’re doing is mimicking the last really big thing, which will obviously work for a period of time, but will eventually run its course. “Publish to the market” is how I’ve heard this philosophy described at one company. “We must publish to the market, and we can’t ignore the dictates of the market.”

But where was “the market” when the first person wrote the book that created said trend? Simple, it didn’t exist. It took the forerunner—the Big Risk Taker—to pave the way. If I’ve heard it said once, I’ve heard editors say it a zillion times: “We want to find something fresh and different.” But when something fresh and different is shopped out to publishers, oftentimes there aren’t enough in-house champions to be found. Maybe an editor or two, but not the whole necessary shebang (editors, sales, publisher, etc) within any one house. Here are the kinds of reactions agents might hear when shopping a risky, innovative (and barrier-shattering) project:

“I stayed up all night reading it, but others here didn’t share my enthusiasm.”

“We all love it, but we just couldn’t figure out how to publish this book.”

“Nobody buys _________ anymore.”

“_______________ is really dead right now, and when I brought it up, sales staff shot me down.”

Every publishing house has its own corporate character. Some romance houses have an atmosphere of freedom and chance-taking. Their editors don’t work with a heavy-handed approach, but rather understand that creative people thrive in an atmosphere of trust. It doesn’t mean that the authors aren’t edited—no, but they are given the ability to take chances. To find their voice. To tell the stories they truly want to tell. These houses tend to have vibrant, diverse lists. Other houses, however, tend to be more lock-step. They would be the places where agents might be likely to hear things like, “we’ll buy X, but it has to be _________.” Fill in whatever you want here—think of it as a publishing Mad Lib! Some examples:

“We’re looking for inspirationals, but they have to be very clean. No crime, no murder, no infidelity. Very down the middle.” (Translation: if you bring them a dynamic inspirational story about a woman who cheats on her husband, and makes a long, painful walk back to God, well, they can’t publish that.)

“We’re looking for paranormals, but they have to be really sexy. We’re only buying them if they’re really, really, REALLY hot.” (Translation: there’s no room for something they’ve never seen before, unless there’s a lot of sex written in just to service the “market.”)

Keep on Mad Libbing. Think of any single element you’ve seen over-represented in romance, and you can count on the fact that there’s been some of this “only if XYZ” mentality in the publishing process somewhere. It’s not just the editorial staff, either, but it happens on the market and sales level and basically at every juncture in the process: packaging, marketing, sales. You name it. Everyone is trying to divine what’s selling and follow that lead, in order to get someone—God, anyone!—to buy a book. Especially from a new author.

And so it comes back to my opening caveats. All these fine people are simply trying to do the one thing we must applaud them for—they are trying to sell books in a tough climate. But what of the authors who pave the way, the ones we need to keep on generating trends? If we stop allowing their works out of the gate, there’s nothing left to mimic! From the agenting perspective, it only takes one publishing house to “get” whichever revolutionary author I’m shopping and then we have a chance. Just one. I might receive seven or ten or more passes, but then the last house gets it. They get it, they publish it, and kablam! We have a hit. A great example would be a nonfiction book I shopped a couple of years ago called 90 MINUTES IN HEAVEN. This is a Christian market book, and is a narrative memoir. Everyone I sent it to said, “Nobody’s reading true stories right now. They’re dead in the inspirational market.” Fortunately one house did get it, and, thank goodness, they published it. That book now ships roughly 25,000 copies every single month and isn’t slowing down.

In romance, I have a very successful author on my list of whose first-time work it was said, “Nobody’s reading this subgenre. It’s dead.” That same house has since tried to acquire her now that she’s a blockbuster. Follow the wagging tail.

So where is the answer? I’m not sure, and I don’t think it’s simple or easy by any means. But I would suggest that on a readership level we should support books that seem to push the envelope. When you sense that a particular house is willing to take chances, buy as many of their “risks” as you can. I’m talking about romance here, obviously, since this is Romancing the Blog. You couldn’t follow something like that on a publishing-wide basis, but surely you can get an idea of who is putting out interesting work on a romance-only basis. As a reader, take chances yourself. If we want publishers to do it, then it’s the least we can do. If you think about it this way, a small increase in sell-through can make a big difference in how a book’s bottom line is viewed. On a first time author’s book even just 3-6K copies is a big difference in that percentage. For my part, I’m determined to keep on taking chances. To represent the books that other people don’t think will sell. I can’t do that all the time, but I refuse to become bland just because the market says so.

Most importantly, as writers we must endeavor to write the books that speak to us, even if it means pushing the envelope in our particular genre. We can’t be inefficient or foolish with our precious time or resources, but we have to be risk takers. It’s our job to set the pace, because only then is it possible to break wide the barriers—and only then can the next Big Big Thing happen.

of being a published author. Ever consider what those are? I was on a chat recently where the author was asked, “how has your life changed since you sold?” Like maybe something magical happens – like you don’t have to scrub the toilet bowl anymore.

So far my toilet is as scrungy as ever, but a few other interesting things have happened. Taking them in order…

The good–

1. I don’t shower until noon. Okay, may be too much information, but you’re jealous, aren’t you?
2. I get to give stuff away. Sounds silly, but I really like this part of promotion. It’s fun. I get to think up contests and give people stuff. How great is that?
3. I have met a lot of people I wouldn’t have otherwise – many I have never seen in person. I meet people through my blog, loops and boards. Sure, I did this before I was published too, but it is easier now.

The bad –

1. I worry about things I never worried about before–is anyone BUYING my book? And if they are, is it enough? Will I get a second contract? I think readers often assume writers automatically get second and third contracts. That just because the writer has built a world the reader enjoyed and hope to experience again, more books will come. Well, this ain’t necessarily so. Cause, well, if the sales aren’t there – or if the editor doesn’t love the next idea as much as the first, the book will not be contracted/published.
2. Not everyone loves you. Okay, I never really thought they did, but reviews put it down in black and white. I have been lucky enough to not get a really bad review, but I’ve got some lukwarm ones, and some that just didn’t get me. And, oh goody, with Amazon everyone has the opportunity to post an opinion. Eeek!
3. You become obsessed with the above – at least for a while. How many times does a new author check her Amazon ranking or Google herself looking for comments and/or new reviews? Often enough she could have written Moby Dick in the time wasted. Sick, just sick. This does pass. I only hit Amazon say twenty times a day now – see that’s not bad, is it?

The ugly –

1. The one really ugly thing is what we writers do to each other, a lot of which has been posted about many times on this blog – jealousy, the gated community mentality, and the judgements. I hate that part, but, well, it’s part of being a piece of something bigger. You just have to try to not let it drag you down – or worse fall into the trap yourself.

Okay, one last category – the fabulous. Just when I am feeling blasé about my new chosen field or even a little down, I get a great note in my inbox from some reader who DID get my book. Or I go to sign stock at a book store and meet a young clerk who is giddy–GIDDY–to meet a published author. Being on the receiving end of this can’t be explained. It is a wonderful feeling and one I hope everyone who thinks they have a book in them gets to experience.