Author: Laura

I love writing. And stationery. And the smell of new books. I sometimes sing, but mostly, I write. I am a member of the Romantic Novelists' Association, and one eighth of The Romaniacs. It's all about the passion.

I love writing. And stationery. And the smell of new books. I sometimes sing, but mostly, I write. I am a member of the Romantic Novelists' Association, and one eighth of The Romaniacs. It's all about the passion.

A Fine Romance.

A Fine Romance.

10/25/2011 7:15:42 PM

What an incredible weekend. I have never experienced anything like it.
This weekend was The Festival of Romance, held at HuntonPark, Watford, a beautiful setting with gold and burgundy trees, velvet lawns and a large marquee.

The event launched on the Thursday evening at Watford Central Library with A Celebration of Romantic Fiction. This was hosted by Kate Allan, the event organiser, Annie Burrows, Isabelle Goddard, Lynne Connolly and Juliet Archer. Unfortunately I was unable to attend this part of the event, but my heart was there. I spent many of my youthful hours in one or other of Watford’s libraries.

I arrived very early on the Friday morning, having left home at 5:00, to glorious sunshine and complimentary coffee, having driven through the dark, singing to Abba (I outed myself at the Festival). On route, I picked up Catherine Miller, a fellow member of the Romantic Novelists Association, New Writer’s Scheme, who was excellent company.
After failing to work out how to use the coffee machine, we were rescued by a friendly member of staff, and then relaxed in large, comfy chairs and sofas, awaiting the arrival of other delegates.Celia Anderson was the first to say hello, with whom I had chatted through the Festival of Romance Online site. We also met Sarah Tranter and Sue Fortin. We were ready to rumble.

The first session I attended was So You Want To Write Short Stories For Women’s Magazines, with Helen Hunt, an extremely interesting and informative talk which has given me food for thought. This was not an area for which I had considered writing, but having listened to Helen, I can see that it would be a good way to increase one’s portfolio as well as adding to one’s earnings. It is a difficult market to enter, however. Never say never.

The next session was entitled Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves, a panel chaired by self-published Mandy Baggot, (Strings Attached), with Pamela Strange and Talli Roland, whose latest book, The Hating Game, was shortlisted for the Festival Reader Awards, and who has taken the brave decision to leave her current publisher to self-publish.
Self-publishing is now a very credible way to get a book out – it is distinctly different to vanity publishing, and the advent of e-publishing is making it a viable option.

I then attended Writing Romance with Sue Moorcroft. Sue is the NWS agony aunt and, like many of the delegates attending the Festival, a goldmine of information. This was a great workshop and discussed types of hereos and heroines – making sure the right types work well, internal and external conflict – the very problems that stop the main characters from getting together, and the ways to resolve this conflict. Veronique Moorcroft assisted.

Just as I was getting weak and wobbly with hunger, the final session before lunch began – Aspiring Authors Clinic: How To Get Published. Like the previous workshop, I would not have missed this for the world.
The panel was chaired by Cara Cooper and consisted of Xcite Books, Choc Lit and AUK. The panellists gave a very thorough explanation of what publishers expect and require from writers and authors. I made plenty of notes during this session.

With my hunger at an embarrassing level, lunch was served.

The afternoon passed just as swiftly as the morning, starting with a charity quiz where teams of four fought for first palce. Sadly, our team of three did not win, but the answers we failed at all contained numbers, and as we said at the time, we are writers, not mathematicians. (It is beside the point the numbers were dates or titles of romantic films; we do not do maths.)

I listened with great interest to the Research Club, with expert authors sharing their knowledge on subjects ranging from medical romance to the Argentine tango. In this panel were: Jan Jones, Roger Sanderson, Pamela Strange, Hywela Lyn, Phillipa Ashley, Nell Dixon and Cara Cooper.

The day ended with a chocolate making demonstration from Choc Chick, whilst Sue Moorcroft and Christina Courtenay read extracts from their latest novels, Love and Freedom and Highland Storms (respectively), published by Choc Lit. Whilst listening to the readings, we were treated to chocolate treats from Choc Chick, They were little morsels of Christmas, in my opinion.

The day finished with tea and coffee and I left for the evening.
My head was buzzing with ideas, my voice was fading with all the chatting and I was looking forward to the next day.

 Comments:

 Sarah Tranter:

10/25/2011 10:15:23 PM

Festival of Romance.

It was good wasn’t it? Fab to meet you – did your hubbie make it into school to do the necessary?

You Know Who You Are.

You Know Who You Are.

10/14/2011 12:10:26 AM

Last week I thought the more I learned, the less I knew. This was based on me thinking I had grasped the concept of delivering a good book, only to discover I was nowhere close.

Now, through the wonderful patience and advice of expert friends, new friends and acquaintances, blogs and websites, I am finding my way through the minefield.

The time for me to take a leap of faith is drawing near and thank goodness I have an amazing amount of support for what I am trying to achieve. Without it, I would be standing on that muddy field alone, eyes screwed tightly shut, fingers crossed (metaphorically speaking, as I can’t actually cross them anymore), with my foot hovering unsteadily over unknown and dangerous ground.

As it is, with my family and friends cheering me on and others fearlessly walking beside me, guiding and prompting, I am not afraid to take those necessary steps.

Thank you to those showing me the way and thank you to the noisy rabble on the other side of the field for being there in all weathers.

Just Keep Swimming.

Just Keep Swimming.

10/8/2011 5:04:20 PM

I am having a sofa/hot chocolate moment. In fact, I have had a sofa/hot chocolate moment all week.

This time last week, I was in a tee-shirt and shorts, sitting on the beach, thinking nothing of the fact many people were splashing about in the sea. What a difference seven days can make. I have just switched on the heating.

I am not so keen on this weather – it turns my nails blue and leaves me with a desire for syrup sponge puddings (yes, in the plural) and cable-knit woolies, which is unfortunate, since I cannot tolerate wool. It also leaves me with less disposable energy, the bulk being used for keeping warm. The net result is a loss of productivity, hence the delay in getting my blog out, and for that I apologise.

This will be an interesting season for me; I am more determined than ever to become a published author but am spending my first winter on reduced medication for Rheumatoid Arthritis. One of the symptoms of RA is fatigue and what with fighting the cold weather, I had it in bucket loads this week. The term I used on Twitter was ‘swimming through treacle’. Back to the sponge puddings, then.

I hadn’t realised how much energy is required for writing, after all, I simply sit at my desk or on a comfy sofa and push a pen or tap some buttons. The sitting part I can do and did exceptionally well Monday through to Friday; it was the actual writing with which I struggled. My tired mind could not string two sentences together.

This was noticeable at Off The Cuff, the writing group I attend, when both my submissions for the morning were, quite frankly, a load of tosh. I’m not suggesting I produce masterpieces on a regular basis, if at all, but this week, my spark had definitely gone out.

How do writers overcome this?

My solution was to go to bed and sleep, or slump on the sofa and watch programmes I wouldn’t normally watch – I particularly liked one on Beeb 2 about the history of rooms – it was fascinating. These non-activities certainly restored some energy, but inspiration was still lacking. It wasn’t until yesterday evening, when I was chatting with my long-suffering friends, that I began to feel able to put pen to paper.

My friends shared their honeymoon stories and their chocolate – true friends indeed – and made me laugh so much, I became energised and inspired. We have the beginnings of a romantic comedy. I’m not sure how that’s going to pan out, as I have never tried my hand at romcom, but humour can get us through the toughest times.

Some new Twitter friends also lifted my spirits this week by reminding me that if something made me happy, then it was worth the effort. And writing makes me happy.

So, this is what I have learned; a kind word, love and laughter and chocolate will help me overcome pretty much anything.

As will syrup sponge puddings.

Description Workshop with Isolde Martyn.

Description Workshop with Isolde Martyn.

9/25/2011 10:27:20 PM

Off The Cuff, the writing group I attend and adore, was honoured to have our friend and historical romance writer, Isolde Martyn spend the morning with us, running a workshop on description.

We were asked to give an example of a scene from a book or film that has remained with us. I chose The Sound Of Music, one of my favourite things, and the scene where the children are singing goodnight to the party guests – you know the part – where little Gretel is alone on the stairs until she is picked up and carried to bed by a sibling. This scene always, always chokes me up and that is the reason I love it – it strikes an emotional chord. When written well, description can do the same.

It’s all very well telling the reader that Gretel sat alone on the stairs, but add a description of say, her small frame, her wide eyes, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees and the expansive and sweeping staircase upon which she is sitting, and one starts to get a feeling of vulnerability and scale – and I have used a very simple form of description to start creating that feeling.

Description can provide details of the setting: Goldilocks clapped her hands when she saw the little wooden cottage; its window glowed orange from the warmth within, so inviting after a solitary walk through the empty forest.

It can create the atmosphere: It was a dark and stormy night…

And it can relax the reader after a period of high tension: The glossy pebbles jostled and jingled as the white-foamed waves worked their way between them.

It can also provide ‘layering’ – clues as to what is going to happen: That sweet, sickly smell was familiar and she was instantly transported back to her twenties and the months of endless parties she’d enjoyed, when in the morning, countless bodies lay strewn around her house, their owners either drunk or doped…

The passage /passing of time can be dealt with very nicely by using good description. As a writer, I do not want to be minuting everything my characters do and as a reader, I would be bored rigid by it. I can let the reader know that time has passed by giving information, for example, like the weather or season or maybe the time of day: The warm evenings of summer had given way to the billowy breeze of autumn and Carrie had resorted to wearing her old angora jumper.

What Carrie did during her warm summer evenings, in this case, is irrelevant to the rest of the story, so pass the time with description.

One of the major things description can do, is to clearly show from whose point of view the story is being told. Is the character in first person, running through the forest, brushing past the ferns, swearing as his ankle is stung by yet another nettle, or is it in the author’s point of view, detailing this man’s progression through the woods from a vantage point, describing the look of discomfort on his face as he rubs at his ankle?

I am still learning my craft – four years down the line, I am only just beginning to make sense of how to write and how I write. I tend not to over describe, but sometimes wonder if I leave too much to the reader’s imagination. With the advent of travel, television and the internet, people today know what a castle is, to use Isolde’s example, and if they don’t, they will look it up. There is no longer the need for lengthy descriptions as in days gone by.

Too much description and information can slow the pace down, stop the momentum and ultimately lose the reader. Use research wisely. As the writer, it is important to gain a solid understanding of what one is writing about, but it is not always necessary to transfer all that new knowledge onto the page, descriptive or otherwise. It may not be as interesting or pertinent to the reader as it is to you.

Lastly, try to avoid lists: The seafood platter was almost alive, the ingredients were so fresh. It was overflowing with white crab meat, flamingo-pink tiger prawns, tender lobster claw, flakes of poached salmon, aphrodisiacal oysters, octopus, dolphin-friendly tuna and mussels…..What was I saying?

Following the workshop, I have thought about Truth Or Dare? and wonder if I need to add a little more description – I tend to be quite sparing – I am not what I call a ‘fluffy’ writer, but now I know how description can draw the reader in, I realise it can be a very powerful tool if used intelligently.

Please take a look at Isolde’s website www.isoldemartyn.com – it is well worth a visit.

Lastly, those experienced writers amongst you, please set me on the right track if I have wandered too far. Thank you.

 Comments:

Newwriter:

9/27/2011 12:28:41 PM

Description.

Hi Laura, you make the point well regarding description, many a good book has been spoiled for me by the author telling me every little detail about everything. It can be hard to know when enough is enough, i find the trick is to just think of your readers, i would hope most of them are reasonably intelligent beings and therefore will as you say know what a castle looks like, that trees are green and that water is wet. I agree you need description when you’re building atmosphere or if your characters are somewhere most people will not have been- a laboratory or military base that kind of thing. Also, depending on the scene, a description of every little thing may be essential to keep the reader on edge especially if you’re trying to build tension or suspense.

I think you seemed to be spot on with what you’ve picked up from the workshop, and even though I’m not an experienced writer I’d say you’re definitely on the right track.

Happy writing.

Tweet, Tweet.

Tweet, Tweet.

I have become a serial Tweeter. Don’t believe people when they say it is a time waster. Certainly, as a writer, it lends itself to what we call a displacement activity, but the wealth of information that can be passed in 140 characters or less is amazing.

Now that I am finally getting to grips with the ‘netiquette’, I’m hoping my new Twitter friends and acquaintances can see that I’m neither a crazy, obsessive stalker or that I take the kind ‘follows’ for granted. Every time I receive notification that someone new is following my tweets, I smile – how lovely it feels to know people are interested in what I have to say. It’s the same with my blog, and so you know, I do not take any one of you for granted. I appreciate every visit.

I am following some cracking Tweeters, who never fail to make me laugh and are very happy to engage in friendly banter. Others I follow are very generous with their time and expertise and point me in the ‘write’ direction or give me spot-onPhoenixadvice.

The amount of information that has been tweeted and retweeted this week has been phenomenal with regard to writing and publishing and Wednesday was undoubtedly the highlight of the week, when the Society of Authors held a tweetathon to bring to the nation’s attention, the plight of the short story.

An author from the Society tweeted the first line of what was to be a five line and therefore, short story, with Tweeters providing the next four lines. The best submission of each section was added to the story, ultimately producing a 670 character story.

It was fantastic fun and will be running for the next four Wednesdays. Take a look at #soatale and join in. Help increase the popularity of the short story.

This week, I was like a sponge, soaking up all the information I could, to the tag line; the world is my moisture. If you’ve not ventured into the world of Twitter, it is worth a look, but try not to let it distract you from, well, life.

I can be found as @Laura_E_James.

Comments:

 

newwriter:

9/18/2011 10:13:27 AM

Twitter.

You’re not wrong Laura it’s amazing what you can learn from few short lines. But as you say it can be addictive, 3am I got to bed the other night and that was just following links. I never tweeted a single word.

Mentally Pale.

Mentally Pale.

9/8/2011 11:36:40 AM

I’m feeling pale today, like this colour.

It is the result of too many late nights and not enough inactivity of the brain.

I was up until the early hours editing Truth Or Dare?. When the words are flowing, I find it virtually impossible to tear myself away from the keyboard, but strangely, it’s Guilt and a disapproving look from Mrs Sensible, that get me to bed.

There is a clock on the bottom right hand of my monitor screen and when I’m writing, my eyes continually flick to it. They’re doing it now; 09:48. This morning, when I saw 02:20 on the PC clock, I felt guilty at not being in bed and thought I had best make my way up before I got told off. At my age, it is a ridiculous thought, but it is a response which was instilled in me as a youth and is now forever ingrained within. Sense kicked in too, as I accepted the idea my family has certain expectations of me; functioning as a human being, for one. And so it was, I exchanged the PC’s black corner clock for a fuzzy red one in the bedroom and by the time I got into bed and pulled the duvet up, the clock read a wobbly 02:40. But could I get to sleep? No. My brain was still running over the new scenes I had added and was working out a way to connect them to existing ones. It was chilly too. I contemplated switching on my electric blanket, but the on/off switch clunks loudly and I was trying to be quite, so that I didn’t get told off for sneaking up to bed late.

Eventually, I stopped thinking and stopped noticing the cold. I didn’t dream anything worth remembering. It would have been in sepia if I had.

When I woke, I felt pale.

I am wearing fuchsia pink today. I was hoping to fool myself in to feeling awake and vibrant, but it’s yet to work. Even the dark, warm sweetness of an autumnal hot chocolate has failed to colour my complexion; but according to one kind (and very tanned) lady at the school, I look happy and cheerful. I think that’s just my facial muscles taking the path of least resistance.

Early to bed tonight, then? Well, I say that now, but Writing is a very persuasive playmate who likes to stay up late.

 Comments:

Laura:

9/9/2011 12:39:52 AM

Mental Paleness.

Very poetic, Gail, and much appreciated. Thank you. xx

  Gail Reynolds:

9/8/2011 1:07:01 PM

Pale in colour.

Can I say, it is not how pale you feel or look on the outside its how bright the spark inside is?!

(from the tanned lady) xx

The 3 R’s.

The 3 R’s.

8/27/2011 10:52:36 PM

Traditionally, the 3 R’s are for Reading, Writing and Arithmetic, but this week they have stood for reading, writing and resting.

I ordered three books from an online bookstore at the beginning of the week and they arrived midweek. The postman decided to rap twice very loudly on the door and if that wasn’t enough to wake the dead, he rang the doorbell. At the time, I was sitting silently, absorbed in editing Truth or Dare?. I nearly passed out. With my heart still booming, I got up from the sofa, tweaking a muscle in my back as I did so, reached the door and received my package. I smiled politely and quietly thanked the postman, eager to return to the sofa, to ease my back and open the cardboard parcel. Now, bear in mind that with my left hand still in a splint (and therefore rendered more or less useless), and the other weakened with rheumatoid arthritis, opening a package is not easy, but I was desperate to get in there as I knew it contained three new books. I could smell them.

After venting my frustration at my own inadequacies, I decided my best chance of opening the parcel was to use my teeth. You know that strange feeling you can get when someone scrapes their fingernails down the blackboard or when you accidentally touch the rough surface of a nail file or sandpaper? Well, tearing cardboard with one’s teeth produces the exact same feeling, not to mention the noise it creates as the ‘riiiippp’ resonates around one’s head. I wouldn’t recommend it as a preferred method of opening such packages. It really did set my teeth on edge.

Having got over the palpitations, the muscle strain, the cardboard induced headache and the strange swirly feeling in my stomach, I finally got my not so good hand on my new books. It had been worth the teeth edging.

I purchased: Erica James – Promises Promises, Jill Mansell – To The Moon and Back, and Carole Matthews – The Only Way Is Up.

Now, I am an established fan of both Erica James and Jill Mansell, but Carole Matthews is a first.

Rarely do I have the opportunity just to kick back and read for hours on end, but the children occupied themselves, the cats went off to play in the hedges and I was left to sit quietly, rest and read. I forwent the writing. In two days, I read Promises Promises. It was a lovely read, which had me smiling throughout – a classic Erica James novel. I finished it last night and went straight on to The Only Way Is Up and reached page 117, only putting it down because it was half past stupid o’clock.

Isn’t it lovely to discover an author you haven’t read before and then find you enjoy their work?

I would describe this book as having a direct style – I need to read more of Ms Matthews’ books to form an opinion of her writing style, but I liked the immediacy of this story. By page 26, the reader is right in the thick of it. The story is fast paced and full of action.

As I have said before, in a previous blog, the advice to writers is to a)write every day (I’m sure I read the other day to write even if it is a shopping list) and b)read, read, read – particularly the sort of books you would like to write.

I have learned three very different things from both of these books: The description and action of some of the characters in Promises Promises produced such believable and in some cases, detestable characters, I could feel my hackles rising whenever they appeared. In TOWIU, I have not yet found a character to detest (that may come later), but I have found the current characters to be extremely believable and I can picture their type. I have learned that the clues to their personalities are in how they dress, how they speak and how they treat and react to other characters. Now, that may seem obvious, but to me, it wasn’t. These two books helped create a lightbulb moment.

In terms of the structure of the stories, TOWIU has shown me that I need to get to the action quicker – my openings are too ponderous, and PP has shown me how to change viewpoints without disrupting the flow of the story; POV’s are something I have struggled horrendously with.

It is a given that I will enjoy and learn from Jill Mansell’s book.

I may regard novels differently now that I have written one, but first and foremost, I enjoy the read, I enjoy getting lost in the story and I enjoy the feeling of satisfaction at finishing it.

If you enjoy romance/romantic comedies and if you are looking for excellent examples of how to write, you will not go far wrong with these three ladies.

That’s me done for now.

See you next time.

The Port Glass.

The Port Glass.

8/22/2011 9:30:06 PM

 

No fingerprints, no grease marks, no smeared white lines

Its clarity, crystal clear

A remnant from an age gone by, that proves that you were here.

And I know it’s just a glass for wine, but the hands that held it once held mine

And your mouth would once have kissed its rim

Sipping port, its warmth within,

And if I touch it now, what will I feel? A tangible spark, something real?

I pray reflections in this glass will show me something of my past.

 

I’ll hold it gently, around the stem

I’ll treat it like a long lost friend

I’ll keep it safe and from time to time

I will replenish it with wine

And drink to you, whom I held dear.

A crystal glass – proof you were here.

Wonderful Week.

Wonderful Week.

8/21/2011 9:39:56 PM

 I have had the most excellent week and it is set to continue with Off The Cuff tomorrow.

I have had a Twitter account for a couple of years, but only this week discovered the joys of tweeting. I am not entirely certain as to how I ended up making the connections I did, but I am so happy and smiling so much, you can see my molars.
There are a handful of authors whose books have moved me and inspired me to write, two of whom are Jill Mansell and Erica James and this week, I have been lucky enough to ‘talk’ to them through Twitter and FaceBook.
In my technological naivety, I posted a comment to what I thought was Jill Mansell’s fan page, commenting on one of her books, Good At Games, not expecting anyone to respond, but hopeful that I would at least connect with another fan. Well, I was blown over by the fact the lady herself sent a direct reply to me! I was so excited. I then felt like I had gate-crashed her Tweets, but she has assured me this is not the case and this is in fact how Twitter works. It made my week.
Well, I continued to find my way around Twitter and decided to follow Orion Books, who had tweeted about Promises Promises, by Erica James. There was a link that took me to the FaceBook Fan Page for Erica James. Good, I thought, I’m on safer ground, having been on FB for a couple of years. In my experience, it is very rare for the Fan Page ‘subject’ to host the page and once again, I posted a comment announcing how much of a fan I am and how wonderful the internet is for connecting people with other like-minded people. I was already relishing the discussions I could have with other readers about the books and looking forward to finding other fans who were also developing writers.
Then it happened again. Erica James, the author, responded to my comment. I was on a roll. I showed my daughter the message and she joined in with the grinning – her excitement on my behalf was wonderful and added to the euphoria of the day.
Tomorrow Isolde Martyn is attending Off The Cuff and I am very much looking forward to seeing her again. Isolde is an established Historical Romance author, who very generously gives her time to OTC to help us develop as writers. Isolde is now based in Sydney, Australia, but always drops in for a session or two when she is in Dorset.
What more can I say? It has been a stunning week and I am touched by the fact these three ladies are happy to engage with their fans. I am a willing student and they could teach me such a lot.
If you are a lover of romantic comedy, contemporary romance and historical romance, I recommend you take a look at these three authors. Jill Mansell made me laugh out loud, Erica james made me cry and Isolde Martyn taught me a thing or two, historically and literally.
I also ‘met’ another member of the Romantic Novelist Association’s New Writer’s Scheme through Twitter and I am looking forward to getting to know her better. Perhaps, next year, when I attend the RNA Conference, I shall be fortunate to meet these inspirational ladies.
Write on!

Matchsticks or Trolley Jacks?

Matchsticks or Trolley Jacks?

8/16/2011 11:21:51 AM

Oh man. I’m tired. Matchsticks simply are not strong enough to prop open my eyelids. I’ve had to drag myself out to the garage and retrieve the trolley jacks.
I’ve had the luxury of four entire days to myself and have spent the time eating chocolate and editing Truth Or Dare? It has been a fantastic opportunity to break the back of it and I have exploited it to its fullest, but boy, am I tired. I might give four in the morning a miss for the next few nights – I need to re-energise, besides these jacks weigh an absolute ton.
I think I have developed addict-like tendencies with writing. I am compelled to write and if something gets in my way and prevents me from spending time with my pen and paper, I become antsy. I buy pens and books and secrete them away, not intending to use them, but happy in the knowledge I have emergency supplies in times of desperate need. A trip to Staples is a day out for me. Oh yes.
My friends say my mind is always on the go. I think that’s a good thing; it keeps the brain active, but perhaps I should apply it to everyday life from time to time, because the stories I hear out in the real world, I couldn’t make up. I’m always on the lookout for a title, a phrase or a snippet of conversation that gets my imagination going – I spend my time thinking ‘what if I this happened?’ or ‘I wonder why they’re standing outside the bank…’.
Well, back to reality – the washing machine has beeped at me, demanding my attention.
Might need some help here – I can’t move the trolley jacks…