Lisa Hendrix

NaNoWriMo, for those who don’t know, is National Novel Writing Month,  a period of insanity when writers all over the world commit to producing a completed novel of 50,000 words in 30 days (1667 words/day). NaNo has been going on every November since 1999, when only 21 writers participated. This year, over 130,000 writers have signed up.

I’m one of them.

But I’m not exactly playing by the rules. See, you’re supposed to start a new book, from scratch, at the beginning of NaNo. The idea is that if you don’t have anything on paper already, you’re free to let yourself go, tap new depths, reach new levels of writerly freedom. Or something like that.

But to start an entirely new piece, I’d have to stop working on Immortal Defender for a month, and  I don’t want to leave Torvald hanging that long. Besides, I’m on deadline and I simply can’t. Can. Not. So I’m going to use NaNo for my own purposes. My goal is to finish Immortal Defender during the next 30 days, leaving myself the whole month of December to edit and (here’s a concept) enjoy Christmas. I’m not writing a new book, but I will be doing the 50,000 words, at least, so I’m still meeting that part of the challenge.

I’ll be posting a NaNoWriMo widget in the sidebar that will reflect only the words I write during November, so  you and I can both keep track of my progress. I’m using the new NaNo version of Scrivener to do the drafting, and that counts daily words to keep me honest.

If any of you want to join in, it’s not too late. You can sign up on the NaNoWriMo site and jump in any time. You may have to do a little catching up next weekend, but that’s okay. I’d love it if you’d post your commitment below (I’d tell you to make me a Buddy on  the NaNo site, but I won’t be there except to log words).

If you’ve ever told yourself “Someday, I’m going to write a novel,” this is the time. Maybe it won’t be that lyrical bestseller that you dream of, but you will prove something to yourself: that you can finish a book. And that, my friends, is half the battle.

This is an actual screenshot from the final (computer) pass of IMMORTAL CHAMPION, with Word’s “correct” suggestion in the lower box.

And that’s why you never trust computer grammar/spell check. Ever.

A writer’s education consists of more than going to monthly chapter meetings or attending the annual local conference.  It means reading EVERY book in the 808 section of the library.  Twice.  It means buying a ton of other books and attending critique groups.  It means regularly reading RWR, Writer’s Digest, Romantic Times, any sub-genre rags like Beau Monde.  And industry, craft, and genre blogs.

It means attending the national conference or buying the session CDs from National if you can’t attend.  (The RWR–[that's the Romance Writers Report for you non-romance types] will list the CDs for sale just afterward.  Your local chapter may also buy a complete set.)

It means getting on-line with your chapter members or some other writer’s link or list where you can learn more about the business of writing from others.

It means getting your hands on whatever publisher guidelines are available and reading them.  It means reading romances, to keep up with what’s being published and by whom.

 More than anything, it means listening, listening, listening, not just with your ears, but with your brain, and absorbing every scrap of hard information that you can get.

Conferences:  Attending vs Volunteering

As part of self-education, I’d like to recommend conferences. Attending a conference is wonderful.  You get to hear fascinating speakers, meet your peers–and an occasional superstar writer–and chat with an editor or two.  You come away inspired, feeling recharged and ready to scream through the next chapter of your book. (I’m presenting at a great small all-genre conference at the end of February, the Whidbey Island Writers Conference. Come join us.)

Even better is volunteering for a conference committee.  When you volunteer, you often have the opportunity to WORK with the visiting editors, agents, and writers.  You find yourself in more situations where you can actually schmooze with these folks, and schmoozing is how you really learn about publishing as a business.  In the right position, you get to know people who may be able to affect your career down the road–for better or worse, so do a good job and present yourself well to them.  I met my first editor, Judy Stern Palais,  and Malle Vallick, who is now the Digital Queen of Harlequin (or some title like that) over the phone when I was doing materials coordination–i.e., begging books to give away at a a chapter conference.  The contact with Judy led almost directly to my first sale–although I obviously had to pony up with a good book along the way.  (I’ve told the story so many times…does anyone want or need to hear it again? If so, let me know in comments.)

As another example, NYT Bestseller Kristin Hannah told me that before she was published, she volunteered at an RWA National conference to babysit editor appointments–you know, stand outside and time the appointments, then knock on the door when the time’s up.  The advantages aren’t obvious, but what do you suppose editors do on their short breaks between appointments?  Go to the john, of course, but many of them also stand in the hallways and talk with anyone around them who doesn’t look like they’re going to throw a manuscript at them.  Like Kristin, at the time.  She spoke with several editors.  One of them–sorry, I don’t remember who–finished a little late and came out of her final appointment harried, hungry, and looking for someone to have dinner with.  Who do you suppose was standing there, smiling and handy?  Who got to spend an hour with an editor in private conversation?

Lucky Kristin, right?  In the right place at the right time.  Get real.  She made her own luck.  She put herself in the right place.

And that’s part of selling a book.

I have copy edits on IMMORTAL OUTLAW coming the first week in January. Those are the ones where you and the copy editor (not your “editor” at most houses, but a grammar-freak-with-a-red-pencil-for-hire) clean up your commas, fix mis-usages, find those dropped periods, and catch all your typos.

You hope.

I ran into this video from slam poet/comedian/teacher Taylor Mali over on Writers Technology Companion Today that is so funny–and so totally apropos–I had to post it.  (Warning: NOT Safe For Work, unless you have on headphones)

Over at Murderati, JT Ellison continues her series, A Virtual Montparnasse, with a long, thoughtful post on the pleasures and perils of the Internet for writers—a common topic on writers’ blogs these days, and for good reason. Not only do we let ourselves be distracted by obsessively following the trail of some bit of research into the digital hinterlands, like Ahab tracking the whale, but we use it to just plain procrastinate. Can’t write?  Update your MySpace page. Still can’t write? Hit Get Mail, answer each message, then hit it again a dozen times before you pop on over to Facebook to check those updates.

I read JTs missive with sympathy, but also with a bit of private glee, for though I am one of the worst offenders of this type, I have found the solution. I have found Freedom. Then I read far enough and learned she’d found it, too—or at least the concept. Damn. But that doesn’t mean I can’t write about it, too:

Freedom is a shareware program developed by Fred Stutzman, a PhD student at University of North Carolina’s School of Information and Library Science. This Apple-only program (yet another reason to give up your PC) disables your wireless and ethernet networking for a given time period.  In other words, you launch Freedom, tell it how much time you want in minutes (up to 360, i.e., 6 hours), and it locks out all your internet access, mail, etc., for that time period. No will power needed.

Here’s what Fred says:

Freedom is an exploration of least-effort computing (in which computational affordances are disabled for task focusing) and spatial reclamation (in which our computers resist encroachments of connectivity). 

That’s his PhD-speak version.   Here’s the English translation:

Freedom is an application that disables wireless and ethernet networking on an Apple computer for up to three hours at a time. Freedom will free you from the distractions of the internet, allowing you time to code, write, or create. At the end of your selected offline period, Freedom re-enables your network, restoring everything as normal.

Freedom enforces freedom; a reboot is the only circumvention of the Freedom time limit you specify. The hassle of rebooting means you’re less likely to cheat, and you’ll be more productive. Not rebooting is why we bought Apple computers in the first place. When first getting used to Freedom, I suggest using the software for short periods of time.

That’s right.  The only way around Freedom is to completely reboot.

I’ve been using it for a couple of weeks now, and I can tell you, it WORKS.  There’s no denying, it’s a little disconcerting to turn over your computer to this thing for the first time—kind of an Aack! It’s eating my baby’s brain feeling. Do what Fred says and start small, with just, say 30 minutes, and learn you can trust it to give your computer back when its done (it does, really). I recommend you check to make sure nothing that needs the Airport or ethernet is running before you launch Freedom (e.g., make sure Time Machine isn’t in the middle of a backup—in fact, turn TM off for the time being, just remember to turn it back on afterward).  And do be aware that you’ll see the spinning wheel of death as it shuts down your access, but that all you have to do is click on an app or open window and it will go away.  Just trust it and make the leap.  Once you do…Wow!

Think about it: six hours of no temptation. Six hours. It’s pretty damned wonderful.

What are your ways of avoiding/eliminating/killing procrastination in its digital form?

Sometimes, people say things in a way that make me laugh or cry. Things that make my heart sing. Things that I would like to have said myself, or that I have said, but not nearly so well.

Toni McGee Causey did all that and more this morning over at Murderati. Go read.

I’m immersed in the bliss of a deadline.  Where will you find your joy today?

So, Wednesday, I had a dinner meeting with a local group of writers, and they asked those of us who had gone to RWA to give a brief rundown of what we’d seen & heard. Easy, right?

Uh, no.  Apparently, my brain fell out somewhere along Highway 1—probably slid out the window on one of the hairpin curves and tumbled over the cliff into the Pacific—because I literally could NOT remember more than two of the workshops I’d attended.  In fact, if hard pressed, I would have sworn I didn’t attend more than three. I think it was the usual conference exhaustion followed by the immediate application of serious lazy vacation that did me in. Somewhere between Jenner and that beach horseback ride I mentioned last time, I stopped caring.

Now, fortunately, I’m a champion note taker—modified Cornell style, multiple colors of pens, fast and efficient summarizer—because I was able to learn that I’d actually taken six full workshops and popped in on several more between appointments. I applied those summarizing skills I just mentioned and let the other writers know what they’d missed.  Now, in the interest of memory preservation, I’m going to give you the most important/striking points from each of the full sessions (after the jump). Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve been experimenting with doing more thorough pre-planning/outlining/storyboarding.  I’ve always written a pretty thorough synopsis and had a clear idea of the overall story, but there came a point in each of my past books that I would get lost.  Somewhere between chapters 8 and 12, give or take, the synopsis would say something like “they spend several days tracking down the McGuffin.” It worked for selling the story to my editor, but left me to work out the details when I was actually writing.  So I’d try out 10 or 15 possiblities—by writing them out.

Ack! Days of wasted writing.  Sometimes weeks. 

Clearly, with a nine book series stretching out ahead of me,  I need to get a handle on that, so inspired by Cherry Adair, the Manuscript Mavens, and others, I decided to make a thorough storyboard.  I bought lots of sticky notes and and a big folding display board and started scribbling and sticking, just like Ally Carter, whose storyboard is to the left.

And promptly lost interest.  Too fiddly. Same with 3×5 cards. 

But I still need SOMETHING, plus I have this sense that if I find the right method, this is all going to fall into place. Read the rest of this entry »

On one of the reader-oriented email lists I’m on, the group moderator (who is brilliant at starting up good discussions) recently asked what everyone thought about condoms in romance novels. She wanted to know whether the failure to address some realistic approach to birth/disease control makes a book a wallbanger or whether the mere mention of such things destroys the fantasy for which many of us read romance. As an author, I followed the discussion with great interest; even though I’m writing historicals right now, I have written contemporary romances in the past (which showed condom use, btw) and surely will again. So what, I wondered, do readers want?

As you can imagine, there were strong opinions in both camps, with one or two people quite vehement that condoms interfered with enjoyment both in books and in real life. 

But one woman came down on the other side, and did it with such clarity and passion and good humor that I asked if I could post part of her response here. She kindly gave permission, so here, from romsfuulynn:

It seems to me that condoms are part of the play, the overall experience, and part of life. Sex can involve accidental hair pulling, muscle cramps in legs, arms, etc, books that got cast aside poking someone with a sharp corner or pinching people in a bad place, falling off or almost falling of the bed (or desk or kitchen counter, or what have you), champagne, beer, coke, milk, ice water or what have you getting tipped over and flooding the field of play (it’s COLD and WET), scratchy surfaces, hard surfaces, beard burn, leg hair scratchiness, other shaved area scratchiness, chafing of almost anything, rug burn, insect bites, sand in unfortunate places, children knocking at the door, phones ringing, doors you didn’t lock, object supporting activity being insufficiently sturdy and breaking, creaking, squeaking. Not to mention being very pregnant or recently post partum.

At least I’ve never had a gun go off like one of Jenny Crusie’s heroines did.

Sex beats no sex. Hands down. (Although hands can be a lot of fun too.) Condoms are the least of it.

Yes, maybe no condom is better for a guy, but that’s life and over time, it all works out. For me, fictional sex should reflect the absurdity of life and the power sex has to overcome distractions. I don’t particularly like sex that is portrayed as dreamy or perfect - sex is better than being merely perfect, it is overwhelming.

Or maybe it’s just my husband. . .

Lucky woman. She’s been married 35 years.

What do you think?  Can a love scene that uses a condom still be romantic?  Share your thoughts on romance and real life. (Keep your language clean, please. Children may be present)

I don’t know how it came up today, but I was thinking about how eyes get described in romance novels.  They’re seldom plain blue or grey.  They’re azure, or cornflower or stone or pewter.  So my brain went off on a tangent (as it often does), and I googled eye colors.  Not much, other than articles on genetics, like this one from Discover. But then I hit Images, and there they were.  So I collected some example photos of unusual eye colors and hereby present them for your perusal.  Yep, there really are people with eyes the color of a tropical lagoon, old terracotta, or a cadet’s jacket.

(bottom photo credit — Discover Magazine online)