by Elizabeth Holcombe Fedorko

You know who you are. You’re like me. You leave the husband home in front of Game Four Hundred Eighty Seven of the World Series and go off to see a “chick-flick"—*gasp*—alone! You take your seat in the theater away from any happy loving couples and, as the coming attractions roll, out comes your (with respect to Blue’s Clues) “handy dandy notebook.”

I have spent more time writing illegibly in the dark than I can recall. I go to those romantic “chick flicks” more for inspiration than entertainment. Don’t you?

Come on. Admit it.

Like all of you, I saw Notting Hill. And like you, I picked it apart from a romantic perspective. First we had a hero (shy English shopkeeper) and a heroine (glamorous movie star). These two are, by virtue of social circumstance, doomed. We have conflict: the “there’s no way someone like her would be interested in someone like me,” and the “you are interesting and attractive but you could never understand my hectic movie star life.” We have sexual tension. We have an appealing setting. We, I mean they, make love. Then, as expected, the “dark moment” after the lovemaking, the “you betrayed me” scenario, and so on and so on until we have the happy “The End.”

Do you do this? Pick apart romantic movies? Then save that ticket stub. It’s research. It’s tax-deductible.

I find romantic movies particularly useful when I’m at loggerheads over which way to proceed with my story. Take The English Patient. Okay, I heard that collective groan—face it, it’s because you didn’t get to see Ralph Fiennes’s naked backside, rather than the fact that everything is doomed in this romance. I learned something from that flick: sexual tension can get really intense if you place the hero and heroine in a very public social situation. These lovers danced together at a lavish pre-Nazi invasion party, met in a Cairo market, and really got down to matters with about five hundred British soldiers just outside singing “Silent Night.” It gave me the idea to heighten the sexual tension in my story by placing my hero and heroine in a very public arena and seeing what happens. Inspiration. I scribbled a lot of notes in the dark.

Here’s another one, if you’ll indulge me. You’ve Got Mail. After getting over the fact that Tom Hanks has, um, filled out and there’s little likelihood of seeing his backside in this film, I allowed myself to be inspired. Out came the notebook and the next thing I knew, I was filling pages with ideas on how to finish a scene in my story. My hero started out as a jerk toward my heroine. I wanted to make him, well, less jerk-y. In You’ve Got Mail, Tom Hanks is a ruthless businessman with a heart. We see that side of him when he easily escorts two kids about town, and he gets to see Meg Ryan in her “own habitat.” Her natural way of putting those around her at ease really shines out to him. He begins thinking of her as a person and not a competitor, little realizing she’s the one he’s been sending those heartfelt e-mails to every day. Does love survive when cyberspace is no longer a barrier? They kiss and walk off into the moment with his dog, so I guess it must.

So I hope you get my meaning. Let those movies inspire you. Don’t go with the thought they’ll solve your story’s ills. Just take your notebook, in case the Muse taps you on the shoulder. My muse looks like Ewan McGregor. How ‘bout yours?


~~~~~
In her ongoing attempts to keep her life safe from too many hours of televised sports, Beth also keeps her eye on Liam Neeson. She was last seen in full “Braveheart” fighting form at the Retreat.

By Karen L. Smith

Everyone is always giving out tips, generally in lists of ten. Well, here’s a list, in no particular order—ten, naturally—to check if you’re a writer or not.

One: Talk about writing to everyone you know, but never actually sit down and write. Talk about how wonderful it will be when you hit the NY Times Bestseller list, about what you’re going to do with your millions from the advance check, and what you’ll wear on all those morning news programs. But never, ever, pick up a pencil and a pad of paper and write a line of dialog, or a description. By all means, avoid your computer, and don’t even consider a typewriter, even if you can find one.

Two: Never read industry publications to learn about trends in romance publishing. Eschew the RWR, avoid Writer’s Digest, use the Update to start fires or wrap fish. Instead, get your information from your Aunt Myrtle who had an article idea rejected once in 1950 when she submitted her “Can This Marriage Be Saved” story to Ladies Home Journal. Under no circumstances surf the web for cool writer’s sites. Ignorance is bliss and we want to stay happy.

Three: Join WRW, but never attend meetings. I suppose if you really wanted to bollux up your chances for publication you could simply never join WRW, but who would you have to talk to if you didn’t belong? (See #1) And, you’d never get the chance to read this keen list.

Four: If you attend meetings, never, under any circumstances, (and no matter how much your writer pals encourage you to), never use any of the information you get in meetings to enhance your chances to write a compelling book. I mean, who are these people anyway? Just because they’ve actually written a book, sold it, gone through the trials and tribulations of revisions, the challenge of publicizing it—you know, all the work. Why would they have anything useful to share?

Five: Under no circumstances are you ever to volunteer to do any job, regardless how small. Volunteering will force you to interact with the other writers in the group. Volunteering will give you chances to know these people, to form friendships, to network, to pick up ideas and helpful hints. Working on a WRW project might put you in contact with (Say it softly) editors or agents. Heavens, you wouldn’t want that, would you? Absolutely not.

Six: If you have actually written something, do not join a critique group, ever. I’ll admit that critique groups aren’t for everyone, but if you are tempted to think you might enjoy or benefit from associating with other writers, resist this impulse. Critique groups will only provide regular input on your style, your characters, your plot—all those messy things you don’t want to worry about. Although, it will give you a captive audience to talk about the book you haven’t written. (See #1)

Seven: Do not be swayed by others’ enthusiastic anecdotes about the WRW Retreat. Also, do not be tempted by the impressive list of speakers or workshop topics. The WRW Retreat represents the best of the best and would offer you entirely too much usable information, too many key industry insights, too many opportunities to network with the people who are actually in the business. Don’t be cajoled. If you must attend the Retreat, go for the food.

Eight: If you are tempted to get involved with the actual running of the group by being on the board, or on a programs committee, or by helping on fundraising ideas, call your Aunt Myrtle and force her to talk you out of it. This is Advanced Volunteering and is even more dangerous than regular volunteering, because you have a chance to shape the way the chapter runs, you would get to help pick the topics for programs, or select the speakers for the retreat. Next thing you know you’ll be wanting to go to the National Convention (conveniently located in D.C. this summer) and you definitely don’t want to do that.

Nine: Never attend other chapter’s meetings, conferences, or enter their contests. After all, the more people you know, the more feedback you get, the more information you have about this industry, the more prepared you’ll be to actually be a writer. In a word, ew!

Ten: Completely miss the point that this list is so tongue in cheek that my tongue has practically poked through the cheek in question. Take all this advice to heart, never write your book, and never experience the soul-deep satisfaction of completing something zillions of people talk about (See #1) but never do—writing a book.


~~~~~
Karen L. Smith is Past President of Washington Romance Writers. Her first book, Meridith’s Wish, will be relelased by Leisure in October 2000.

by Heidi Betts

When I was first asked to write an article for Update about how it felt to make my first sale, I didn’t think it would be possible. I mean, words cannot describe what something that extraordinary feels like, especially after working so hard for so long. I do remember thinking that after writing and working toward publication for nearly ten years, finally getting “THE CALL” shouldn’t be quite that surprising. I knew where all of my submissions were and my heart skipped a beat every time the phone rang. I’d even talked with the editor who bought my book only a few days before “THE CALL.”

But guess what? That phone call, that news, was a major shock. Knocked me totally for a loop. It all began, actually, after last year’s WRW Retreat in Harpers Ferry, WV. I’d had a wonderful time, as always, and was charged to get back to writing. When I arrived home, my dad told me I’d gotten a couple of calls on the answering machine, one from some bookstore. Hmm, that was odd. I didn’t remember ordering any books. So I went into my office to listen to the message, which began, “Hello, this is Alicia Condon from Leisure Books . . .” Aack! “Dad,” I screamed, “Leisure isn’t a bookstore, it’s a publisher!” To which he responded, “Well, how the hell should I know?” I guess he had a point.

This was Sunday night and I had to wait until Tuesday, when Alicia would be back in her office, to call. But don’t think I wasn’t on the phone much of Sunday night, calling friends and fellow writers to see if they knew what this cryptic phone message could mean. After all, she’d asked me to call her back, but hadn’t said anything more than that. And I’d only sent her the proposals for my three historicals and knew she probably wouldn’t be making an offer on anything until she’d read a full manuscript. So not only did I not sleep very well the next two nights, I also lost my voice from talking too much at the Retreat and screaming about an editor actually calling me.

Tuesday rolled around and I was no less excited or nervous. But I braced myself and called. And sure enough, Alicia said she’d read and enjoyed my proposal for CINNAMON & ROSES and could I please send the complete manuscript? Like I was going to say no! And then she added that as long as the second manuscript was finished, I might as well send that one, too. More hoarse screaming, more making phone calls to the same people I’d called Sunday night, and frantic printing. I had both manuscripts in the mail by the end of the week and, considering that it had taken her six months to get to my proposals, I figured I had at least that long a wait until I would hear from her again. So I settled down, started breathing again, and got back to work on my current project; ironically enough, a contemporary because I’d pretty much “given up” on historicals. (Yes, I still get quite a kick out of that one myself.)

So when the phone rang the following Tuesday at almost 5p.m. (only two days after mailing the manuscripts, not counting the weekend) I refused to answer it. I just knew it was one of those bloody telemarketers bothering us at suppertime again, and I was in the middle of stirring jell-o, thankyouverymuch. And you know what happens if you stop stirring that stuff before all the crystals are dissolved. But my dad—who actually hates to talk on the phone and rarely bothers to answer—went to the machine and listened to the caller’s message. A second later, I heard him talking to someone and figured it must have been important, after all. Then he came into the kitchen and said, “Heidi, it’s for you. It’s that Alicia woman.”

You can’t imagine just how many thoughts go through your head on a five second walk to the phone. Akin to seeing your life flash before your eyes, I imagine. In a mere fraction of a minute, I wondered if she would actually call just to reject me. And why the heck couldn’t she just send a letter like everyone else? Or what if something had happened to the manuscripts in the mail and I needed to resend them? Well, okay, that wouldn’t be good, but it wasn’t the end of the world, either.

I don’t think that it even occurred to me that she might be calling to accept the manuscripts. I mean, I’d just mailed them on Thursday; I knew she wouldn’t be in the office that Monday, and even with the very best postal service a Priority stamp can buy, she still wouldn’t have had an opportunity to read anything prior to that day.

But she surprised me again by saying, “Your manuscript arrived this morning and I had a chance to sit down and read it this afternoon. I’d like to make you an offer.” That, I think, is the moment I lost consciousness. I’m not sure; you’d have to ask Alicia. I remember nodding numbly, just sort of listening and writing down every word she said. And believe it or not, I actually remembered to ask if I could have a couple days to calm down and think everything over and get back to her about the offer—as all great agents and authors recommend, instead of automatically agreeing to whatever terms are offered.

That’s how it happened, and to this day, I still cannot really believe it. For months, I’d catch myself giggling like a schoolgirl because I just could not believe I was published. Or about to be. I would pinch myself, just to be sure I still had a handle on reality. (Which is questionable most of the time, anyway.)

And every single thing that’s happened since then is such a thrill. The first time I saw my cover art. The first time I read the back cover blurb. My first RWA conference as a published author. The first review of my book.

If you can imagine just a fraction of what I was feeling through all that, then you can imagine what it’s like to make your first sale. But still, it’s different for everyone; a different story, a different path to publication, different pitches when you scream with excitement.

Just wait until it happens to you. You’ll see.


~~~~~
Heidi Betts is the brand new author of three historicals for Leisure Books—the first of which, Cinnamon & Roses, will be released in January. She is also the Founder and President of her local RWA Chapter, Clearfield Area Romance Authors and can’t wait until the next WRW Spring Retreat. She’ll be there with bells on.

by Laurin Wittig and Pam Poulsen

Last month we talked about how to make contests work for you as you improve your writing skills. This month we’re going to discuss how to cohose the right contest, how to prepare your contest entry, and what can happen if you final in a contest.

So, now that you know how to make contests work for you as you improve your writing skills, let’s discuss how to choose the right contest, how to prepare your contest entry, and what can happen if you final.

There are several things you need to consider when choosing a contest:

Cost? Most contests run in the $25 per entry range, but don’t forget the cost of copies, envelopes and, of course, postage. It adds up surprisingly quickly. It’s easy to get caught up in a contest frenzy, and suddenly you’re out a couple hundred dollars.

How much manuscript must be sent? That depends on the contest, but it also depends on what you’re looking for. If you’ve entered the first chapter and a three page synopsis in a few contests and now you want to know if the partial and ten page synopsis flies, you’ll need to choose your contest accordingly. Many contests don’t require the entire manuscript to be finished, though some do. Some don’t require a synopsis, others require synopses of specific lengths. There are contests for first kisses, best hero, last chapter. You name it, it’s likely out there. If you need to run that love scene by someone other than your significant other or your mother (shudder), you can probably find a contest for it.

What feedback will you receive? A better question is: What feedback do you want? Are you looking for a reaction to your oddball hero with suggestions on how to tone him down? Or do you simply need a numerical score to confirm that your use of dialect works? Or is your goal to get your work in front of an editor or agent’s nose?

Feedback runs the gamut from a simple number score (the Golden Heart), to no score, but detailed comments on the manuscript and perhaps a note with overall impressions from the judge (the Maggie). Feedback may not even be all that important if what you are really after is a shot with the editor/agent. You have to decide what form of feedback you need, then determine if a given contest provides it.

Who will judge? This relates back to your reasons for entering the contest. Are you looking for a detailed critique? Maybe a contest with authors as judges is what you need. Are you looking for a way to get your manuscript in front of Suzy Editor? A contest where Suzy Editor ranks the finalist entries may be all you care about.

How many entries are there likely to be? If your goal is to get in front of an editor or agent, or you covet the title of “Contest Winner”, a small contest may be a better choice for you than one of the “name brand” large contests, regardless of all these other points. If you enter the Golden Heart and your category has 75 entries, your shot at hitting the top ten percent is dicey. If you enter a smaller contest and there are 25 entries in your category with five entries making it to the final round, you’ve got a much better chance of having that editor or agent read your work.

So, how do you choose a contest? First, decide why you are entering. Once you know what your goal is, weigh the relative importance of the issues discussed above, open your Romance Writers Report to the contest section, and choose based on your specific criteria.

Once you’ve decided which contest to enter, the next step is to prepare your entry according to the instructions given in the contest application. DO NOT make the mistake of just printing out your chapter as you would for an editor. Generally, standard page layout works: 12 pitch/10 point Courier font, double spaced, 1” to 1 _” margins all around, 25 lines per page, good quality white paper and nice dark toner or ink.

Headers are tricky. Every contest has its own specifications, not only for what should or shouldn’t be included at the top of each page, but also how it should be arranged. Ditto for cover/title pages. Use a binder clip or paper clip to hold the copies together—never staple. Putting two rubber bands around the whole packet to keep it neat in the mail is a good idea.

Now, all that said, READ THE INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY. Go back and read that last bit again. Your manuscript can be disqualified for—dare we say it?—stupid reasons. Take every instruction at face value. Assume nothing, and call the coordinator if you can’t make sense out of it. When it comes time to mail your entry, the U.S. Postal Service has wonderful FREE Tyvek envelopes. They are waterproof and virtually indestructible. Get two and use one for return postage.

Now, send it Priority Mail, or Overnight if you are cutting the deadline close. You can use other delivery companies, though the good old Post Office has proven to be reliable and cheap. Contest entries can usually be mailed for $4.00 or less (plus return postage). Also, do not send your entry any way that requires a signature for delivery. Instead, include a self-addressed, stamped postcard to verify delivery. Do the contest coordinator a favor and write your title and the contest name on the back. Write “Date Received” and draw a line after it for her to fill in. Voila. Confirmation made easy.

Now for the fun stuff. When we enter a contest, most of us can’t help but daydream about winning. After all, who has a better imagination than a writer? So what really happens if you final? First, you get a phone call from the contest coordinator. You yell and scream, call your friends, and generally feel on top of the world. It’s a wonderful, heady feeling.

Now for the bad news. Okay, there’s not really any bad news about finaling, just a few reality checks. Don’t expect to get a host of calls from agents wanting to represent you now that you’re a contest finalist and don’t expect to get calls from editors suddenly wanting to publish your book. Although . . . if the final round is judged by an editor or agent, he or she may request to see the rest of your manuscript. If this happens, you’ve won, no matter what place you take in the contest!

First place may earn you a medallion, brooch, trophy, cash, etc. All finalists generally receive a certificate.

Finaling or winning will also earn you some recognition (let Member News know and you’ll find your name in the WRW Update). Last but not least, finaling earns you some credibility with agents, editors and fellow writers. This comes in particularly handy when you’re writing query letters or introducing yourself during an editor/agent appointment.

Finaling in the national contest, the Golden Heart, gets you appointments with editors and agents at the national conference, gets you a tremendous amount of publicity (within RWA—particularly at Nationals), gets your work in front of three acquiring editors, and earns you one of the top credentials an unpublished writer can get in this industry.

A word of caution: Whether you win or ‘bomb’, don’t lose sight of the purpose of contests. The purpose is to learn and, just possibly, to get your work in front of an editor or agent. Don’t spend so much time revising and polishing the first chapter that you never get beyond it. Used wisely, contests can be a valuable tool toward your ultimate goal…learning your craft and getting published.


~~~~~
Laurin Wittig and Pam Poulsen have, between the two of them, finaled in nine romance writing contests, three of them the Golden Heart.

by Laurin Wittig and Pam Poulsen

You’ve heard about romance writing contests—specifically contests sponsored by RWA and RWA chapters for unpublished romance writers. You’ve seen the lists of finalists and winners. You even may have considered entering one yourself—some day. Then again, maybe you’ve heard the stories: the friend who was told to go back to her day job by some unfeeling judge, the critique partner who got a perfect 100 from one judge and a 25 from the second, the chapter member who was given a failing score for basic mechanics—and she’s a high school English teacher. Why would you, a perfectly sane person, subject yourself to this? And if you did decide to join the insanity, how would you choose a contest and what can you reasonably expect to gain from the often confusing experience?

We’re so glad you asked! There are several good, even great, reasons to enter one of these contests, not the least of which is . . . you might win.

So, why should you consider entering one of these babies? First, there’s the feedback from someone who doesn’t have to sit across the critiquing table from you and watch the hurt in your eyes. Second, there’s the possibility that you’ll final in the contest, giving you an opportunity to get your entry in front of an editor or agent who has promised the contest coordinator she’ll read it. Third, you may win the grand prize (usually a medallion, pin, trophy, small amount of cash, etc.).

First, let’s discuss the feedback. Every contest, with the exception of the Golden Heart, gives you some kind of feedback whether it’s a score sheet with comments or a full-blown critique. You’ll get opinions of what you’re doing wrong, suggestions for what you can do better, and hopefully, praise for what you’re doing well.

Great, you’re thinking. All I have to do is enter a contest, find out what I’m doing wrong, fix it, and I’ll sell.

Hang on there, partner. It’s not quite that easy. Judging and critiquing manuscripts is a very subjective task. Just as we don’t necessarily agree on what makes a good book or movie, your judges are unlikely to agree completely, if at all, on what’s good or bad about your work.

Now seems like a good time to hit you with the bad news about contests. You will probably get discouraged. You will get bad scores some of the time, if not often. You’ll get judges with a wide range of expertise, opinions, and abilities to critique. Some people are natural teachers and will be able to clearly identify what’s not working in your manuscript. Others are natural writers who’ve never studied the craft and can’t begin to say why a piece doesn’t work—just that it doesn’t. Above all, don’t expect to get a definitive list of what’s right and wrong with your manuscript. Even most editors aren’t capable of giving you that.

Wait! Don’t throw that contest entry in the trash just yet. Despite the subjective nature of this beast, you can still make it work for you . . . in a big way. Here’s what we suggest (and what we’ve done). Enter two or three contests at a time if you can afford it (more on that later). Most contests offer you two judges, whose opinions could differ greatly. When you enter two or three contests, you’re increasing the number of opinions—and increasing your chance of finding some consensus among the judges’ opinions.

When the score sheets/critiques come in, sort through the comments. Look for consistencies. Do four of the six judges question your hero’s motivation? (Better work on that motivation.) Does only one judge question your heroine’s? (Sounds like this might not be too much of a problem.) Now it’s time to make revisions, right? Not necessarily. If you completely understand the comments and feel perfectly capable of making the changes, then go ahead.

But most of us are still learning, right? If your judges are telling you your hero’s motivation is weak and you don’t know what to do to fix it, then it’s time to study character motivation. That’s right . . . study. Go to the public library, or contact Julie Stewart to borrow books from the WRW Library. If you haven’t studied writing books, you’ll be amazed at what you can learn.

Once you thoroughly understand the subject, go back and read your work. Can you see why the hero’s motivation was lacking? Do you understand now what the judges were talking about? Do you understand what you have to do to fix it? Now it’s time to start making changes—not from one judge’s (or even six judges’) advice, but from your own understanding. Never lose sight of the fact you’re learning a craft. The keyword is learning.

Next Month: What to do if you final or win, how to prepare your manuscript for submission.


~~~~~
Laurin Wittig and Pam Poulsen have, between the two of them, finaled in nine romance writing contests, three of them the Golden Heart.

by Elizabeth Holcombe Fedorko

One especially sultry day this past summer I found myself with my son, husband, and good friends at a Virginia Beach water park. For a span of forever, I studied the “Waterfall Drop,” a terrifying, two red-flag, expert swimmer, ten on the wedgie scale three seconds of fun. I reminded myself, as I do every day lately, that I’m writing a novel set in 16th century Scotland. And a research opportunity has neatly presented itself. So, up the concrete stair I climbed, away from my loved ones and common sense, watching children eagerly positioning themselves on top of the waterfall and plunging into chlorine oblivion. Then it was my turn.

I took a seat on the concrete, water sluicing all around my legs and under my nether regions, preparing myself. Now, I’m my heroine: frightened, being chased by the villain, and the hero says the only way to survive is to ride the waterfall with him. (Some hero.) I wear two stone (that’s 28 pounds to you Yanks) of wool and linen, no underwear, and no Esther Williams bathing suit bought at JC Penney. Releasing the handlebars, pretending they are moss-covered stones, I plunge down, grappling for my hero’s arms, free-falling, then splashing, shooting to the bottom of the pool like a finely-honed arrow. Disoriented, I have to open my eyes to see which end is up by watching bubbles all around me. My hero is also giving me a fine view of his bits and pieces as his kilt sways up his thighs in the bubbles. But I digress. I sputter to the surface captured by my hero’s arms as the villain, wearing a teal Speedo, blows his whistle and arcs a thumb to the side of the pool, telling me my turn is over.

OK, so you don’t have to risk drowning to do research. I have been writing since forever and research comes hand-in-hand with all writing, whether it’s historical, contemporary, or… Well, you know the rest. You write them, after all. When I sat down to write my first book, a tragically horrid science fiction, my research library consisted of a battered thesaurus from junior high school and a coverless collegiate dictionary.

Research comes from need. You’ll be writing along, guarding your precious writing time like a pit bull in heat, and lo and behold, you discover you need to know what Denmark’s one krone coin looks like. Mark you place with a note in your manuscript that you’ll research it later and keep on with your story.

Eventually, you’ll need to know about that coin. There are many ways to go at it. One is to ask any Danish friends you may know. Don’t have any? Give the Danish embassy a call. Now you know the one krone coin has a hole in the middle with crowns and decorations around it. It took you only a moment, and you’ve made a valuable contact with some great Danes that may come in handy if you decide to write that Viking book.

I once bent the ear of a re-enactor at the Claude Moore Historical Farm. I took notes and that made him talk even more. You’ve got to talk to people. Remember these re-enactors don’t wear those clothes in the middle of August because they can’t afford a sauna. They want to talk to you, especially if you’re a writer. Tell them so, with pride.

A lot of you like researching on the internet. You may pull up a site on 18th century British military uniforms with specific questions in mind. Some are answered, but not all. Write to the email address of the author of the site. I found a site written by Revolutionary War British re-enactors who travel all over the country losing, mostly, to Patriot re-enactors. I wrote to the email address provided with an introduction of me and my work. One gentleman kindly replied with a bibliography of sources I would have to travel to the UK to get. Remember to say thank-you—always! Keep that name in mind for future acknowledgements.

Go beyond books and articles, but get them too. Keep a file of pamphlets and articles on any topic you think could be remotely useful. Be somewhat organized. Your library will grow as fast as your children or grandchildren, and the next thing you know that New Yankee Workshop guy and his program on building bookshelves looks better than sex—almost.

So, when you’re thinking about your latest book, think about looking for research opportunities in all the odd places. You’ll have fun—believe me!

Now, where’s that water park receipt for my acccountant?

by Michelle Monkou (then WRW President)

What shocked us about Nancy’s death was the savage way in which she died that abruptly snatched her away. There was no lingering illness for us to prepare ourselves and no one remained to be punished. As a chapter, we have said our goodbyes and will honor her memory and spirit in a variety of ways, including a Nancy Richards-Akers annual award for the published author who has contributed the most in the development of the unpublished authors.

On the national level, Avon publishers paid tribute to Nancy at the national conference. The reception took place at the Hyatt Regency on Thursday, July 29, 1999. Avon extended an open invitation to come and share in the memories and also provide an opportunity to bring closure. The program opened with Avon editors and Nancy’s agent describing Nancy’s sweet, fun-loving spirit. There was no formal agenda and anyone could share their thoughts.

Joan Schalhafer, Vice President and Director of Publicity emceed. Carrie Feron, Executive Editor read Karen Kay’s (who was unable to attend) words. Lyssa Keusch, Senior Editor and Nancy’s editor, shared her thoughts. Helen Breitwiser was Nancy agent and spoke about how their relationship developed into a friendship. Marie Elena Martinez, Avon Publicist was responsible for all the logistical arrangement. Thank you for a wonderful moment.

WRW had strong representation and many of its members shared their memories. Anne Marie Rogers donated the memory book for viewing, which is still under construction documenting Nancy’s life. The book will be given to her parents with the hope that the children will some day be able to see their mother’s accomplishments and her other family in the writing world who loved her unconditionally with strong, permanent, healthy friendships. Anne Marie sends her thanks to those who contributed with donations of pictures, articles, and stories.

Bette McNicholas and Karen Smith shared their thoughts and what WRW will do in Nancy’s name. Eileen Charbonneau sang an Irish lullaby that did not leave a dry eye in the room. After which, I spoke about Nancy. On request, I share my words with you:

I can’t talk about memories shared with Nancy as a personal friend or a fellow published author. However, she was a woman. I am a woman. She was a mother. I am a mother. She loved her craft. I love it too. As sisters of the earth, my heart grieves. But in keeping with one of her missions to help unpublished authors, I will make her proud. I will continue to love my craft with a voracious appetite. Peace be with you , Nancy.

The healing has begun and we move forward, a little more aware.

by Lisa E. Arlt

Writing is a lonely career. There are no guarantees, no instant gratification and, unless you’re one of the very few, no huge royalty checks. Most people don’t realize how hard it is to be a writer, but we know. So why do we keep doing it?

Most of us write because we have to write. But some days, we all need a boost. The following eleven tips help me stay motivated.

1. Acknowledge your love of writing: It isn’t enough for a writer to enjoy writing. I enjoy doing a lot of things—some of which could earn me a fair living—but writing is the only activity that I can’t imagine never doing again. If you’re like this, too, recognize this need and let it motivate you.

2. Forge human connections: Writing is a lonely business. No one understands us, but another writer at least has the vocabulary to try. I feel better, and I write better, when I am connected with other writers. Critique partners, writing pals on an e-mail listserve, the librarian who thinks your characters rival Tolstoy’s-all are integral to a writer’s support system. Find friends who understand your devotion and can pick you up when you’re feeling down, and hang on to those friends. You’ll need them.

3. Celebrate each small success: Perhaps the editor who rejected your manuscript added a handwritten postscript—"I enjoyed your heroine’s foibles in the kitchen.” Revel in that. Other writers get form rejection letters, but your manuscript warranted a hand-written comment. Okay, it was rejected, but she liked your heroine’s foibles! So, celebrate—Everything!

4. Read inspirational materials: There are a million inspiring stories out there, and not just in the “how to write” section. I’ve found inspiration in spiritual stories, biographies, children’s history books and even Disney movies. I get a monthly boost from my writing magazine subscriptions. Keep your inspirational materials readily at hand in a file, a videocassette, or in your bookstore. A few minutes reading can keep you going for days.

5. Keep a feel good folder: Remember how that e-mail from the reader who’d liked your article made you smile for days? What about the perfect score from a contest judge? Or the note from the editor who said you had talent and that you’ll make it as long as you keep writing? Don’t hide these feel good items—wallow in them. Display the ones you can, keep the others handy when your motivation starts to dip. If it makes you smile, put it in there.

6. Take vacations and happy days: I have deadlines and goals, but some days, despite my best intentions, I’m not feeling up to doing much, especially writing. Nothing picks me up more than a writing vacation. Even if it’s only a 24-hour getaway, when I return to my deadlines and schedules, I’m more energized, my thoughts are clearer, and I’m raring to go. Writer Rebecca Vinyard declares Happy Days whenever she needs a dose of motivation. As she wrote, “On Happy Days, I forget about everything except doing things that make me happy. Whether that’s diving into my to-be-read pile, going shopping, playing on the computer, taking a long bubble bath or simply sunning myself outside like a lizard, I do it. I don’t do chores, dinner is whatever we can scrounge, and I wear my comfiest clothes. Once my happy day is over, I feel energized and ready to tackle anything.”

7. Fill-and refill-the well: Julia Cameron, in her life-changing book The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity, talks about filling the well. Most artists dip inside themselves and take what’s there (energy, inspiration, soul) to feed everything and everyone else. They work too long at the office, skip lunch, then write until midnight. One day, there’s nothing left. They’ve neglected their inner well so long, it’s dried up. Cameron advocates Artist Dates, a few hours every week when you “fill your well.” Everyone’s inspirations are different, but I paint, draw, read, go to museums; frivolous stuff I can’t believe I’m enjoying when I have so much else to do. But, since I’ve started doing these Artist Dates, my well hasn’t run dry. That’s reason enough for me to keep doing them.

8. Pace yourself: Anne Lamott, in her book, Bird by Bird, wrote about putting a one-inch frame over her workplace. On those days when she didn’t think she could write anything, she told herself all she had to do was fill that one-inch frame with words. Most times, she filled the frame, and then some. I do something similar. On days I think I have nothing to give, I tell myself I only have to write for fifteen minutes. If I truly have nothing to put on paper, I can stop after fifteen minutes are up. Most days, I keep writing. Use whatever tricks help you beat the mind monsters.

9. Identify goals and stay motivated: Post your goals near your work area. Not just lofty ones, but everyday ones, too. I find having a work schedule and sticking to my own, achievable, deadline helps to keep me motivated. Writer Margaret Parker made a banner and put the date she planned to have enough money from her writing to quit her day job. With every step she makes toward that goal she adds a gold star to the banner. Voila! Instant, visual motivation. How about trying that with your manuscript? A gold star for each chapter. It’s worth a try.

10. Celebrate your improvements: Sometimes I feel like I’m making the same, dumb mistakes. Rereading my first (lousy) full-length manuscript makes me wince (did I really mail that out?), but it sure does show me how far I’ve come.

11. Be a writer: Shelley Cooper, whose first book, Major Dad, was an August Silhouette Intimate Moments release, writes, “On those days when I feel like it would be more fun to clean out the dust bunnies from under my bed than write, I remind myself of all who are where I want to be. So, I say to myself: ‘Sandra Brown is writing, Tami Hoag is writing, Linda Howard is writing…’ Works like a charm. The dust bunnies are thriving.”

No one can be energized every day. I have my days when I’m tired, grumpy, and my words feel as substantial as stale marshmallows. When I moan and ask my husband to tell me again why I’m doing this, he hugs me, points me toward the computer, and says, “Because you’re a writer.”

Of course. I’d almost forgotten.

~~~~~
Lisa E. Arlt’s first book, Smoke and Mirrors, was released by Harlequin Temptation in April 1998.

by Michelle Monkou-Samuels

The 1998 RWA National Conference “Golden State of Mind” began in Anaheim on Monday, July 27. This annual event draws the major players in the industry, including fans. I met three women who, together, schedule their vacation around the conference each year so they can meet their favorite authors. They have no interest in writing or becoming members- that’s loyalty.:

My trek to the west began at 6 a.m. The long flight to the West Coast left me exhausted, especially after traveling for hours with an airline that only provided nuts and yucky snacks (like beef jerky). Once I checked into my hotel, I had a second wind and hurriedly made my way to the Goody Room for books, gifts, and information. I moved through the room like a starved pup; never mind the stack of unread books from last year’s conference and the two baskets of books I won at the WRW retreat, all in their original piles in my home. Boy, did I load up. I had visions of myself falling onto the luggage carousel when I tried to claim my luggage.

WRW had good representation among the other hundreds of RWA members. Old friends caught up on each other’s lives. New friendships were made as we shared dreams, fears, and accomplishments in the industry. Workshops targeted a range of skills and interests from the general track to the publishing track.

Julie Garwood and Anne Stuart, keynote speakers at the luncheons, were bonuses to an already fun-filled conference. If we all followed Anne Stuart’s zany words of wisdom and zest for life, we probably wouldn’t have as many neuroses and personality disorders, and would remember to enjoy life in our creative worlds.

She entered the room with an entourage which included our own zany Cathy Maxwell and Laura Hayden. Cathy donned a boa and dark shades as she sashayed to the front, while Laura pretended to be the secret service agent escorting her ward.

Despite the numerous activities and getting reacquainted with friends, something was missing. It would have been nice to have that pink ribbon attached to my nametag signifying “First Sale.” Or, maybe it was that dreaded jet lag that made me sleepy by 8 or 9 o’clock at night and wide awake at 4:30 in the morning.

All that changed when it came time for my editors’ appointments. I had practiced with friends, in front of the mirror, and in my head. Yet, when I sat in front of one editor, my mind went blank and I had to whip out my letter-size yellow page, apologizing profusely as I launched into reading my story. Despite my amateurish behavior, she actually listened, smiled, and requested the entire manuscript, providing tips on how to make the inner conflict more compelling. I came out floating on the good vibes.

That night it was time for the Golden Heart and Rita awards. “Everyone give a golfer’s clap for our Golden Heart nominees: Pam Poulsen and Heidi Betts, and Rita nominees: Mary Jo Putney, Ruth Glick, Patricia Gaffney, and Nora Roberts” (my sincere apologies if I neglected to mention someone). Sitting in the audience, I couldn’t help but visualize that special day when my book would be nominated for a Rita. The pride and sisterhood I felt made me yell madly whenever a WRW member was mentioned. The prophetic sense that fulfillment of my dream was close made me heady.

But, oh, so quick, it was over. Good-byes were the hardest, but thank goodness for e-mail. Some writers and I have created a support group called the “Soul Sistas” with our sisterhood spanning the West Coast in California through Missouri to Maryland. Together, we plan to take one day at a time to maintain that Golden State of Mind.

These words were printed on a card that was given to each attendee at the awards. I share it with those who couldn’t be there:

“The dream is mine. I hold it tightly. It sustains me. Guides me to my chair and sits me down. Keeps my fingers flying across the keyboard. Words pour from my heart for I know that my heart speaks to another’s. Alone and separate, we bridge the distance between us finding common ground in the warmth of the most basic human emotion-love.

The dream is power. It’s the gift of imagination. The ability to translate feelings into words that reach deep inside each of us, an awesome legacy bridging generations with its promise of hope and love...”

See you in Chicago next year!

by Pam Poulsen and Laurin Wittig

Someone had to do it. Really. It was a public service, so, good self-sacrificing human beings that we are, we took up the gauntlet—well, maybe the place tickets—left our husbands and children behind and took ourselves off to the auld country. Scotland. We couldn’t expect to send a whole tour over there without someone testing the premise first, now could we? In an effort to serve our home chapter, we collected our questions, checked our research shelves for the vast holes in our libraries and headed across the pond. Here’s what we learned:

Getting There:

Sitting on the tarmac at Kennedy for two hours isn’t much fun. Take another obsessed writer with you to talk to. You may not get much sleep but you will feed each others’ curiosity (and you can trade the parts of your meal you don’t want).

Try not to look at the road when you take your first ride on the left. It’s really not very helpful if you shriek “Watch out!” every time you turn a corner into the “wrong” lane.

There are sheep everywhere. Watch your step.

In many ways Scotland looks and feels a lot like the U.S., except for the bathrooms (much cleaner), the highways (much narrower), and the castles (much older).

Castles:

Don’t expect the locals to know about the wonderful castle you’re on your way to see. When asking about a castle a few miles up the road, we were told by a shopkeeper, “Oh, are you talking about the ruins? I never go to the ruins.” Blasphemy.

Castles are frequently smaller than you would expect. Nowhere do you feel this more clearly than while climbing a narrow turnstile (circular) stair, barely wider than a braw lad’s shoulders and without railings. We wondered how many drunks lost their footing inside these things.

It was hard to imagine real people (except for the aforesaid drunks) in the castles—until we discovered the privies. Somehow the tiny window over a drafty seat and a niche in the wall, head high, just right for a sputtering candle, brought the ghostly inhabitants to life for us. Go figure.

Changes in a castle’s architecture baffled us until we heard an ancient voice whispering “Dear, I’d really rather that door be over there.” Suddenly, the changes each new inhabitant to the castle had made made sense. Remodeling isn’t a modern phenomenon.

Things to Take With You:

Take a pair of comfortable shoes. No, take two pair. Preferably waterproof. Also see above: sheep.

Film. Take lots. Take more than you think you will need.

Suitcases. Pack an extra one. We needed it to bring back all the books we bought. Oh yeah, and souvenirs. On the subject of books. Buy as many as you can at the Historical Scotland gift shops found in many castles. Not only do they carry books not easily found in the U.S., but we found them to be much cheaper than elsewhere, too.

Notebook. Take one for a journal. Good luck keeping up with it. We finished writing about the trip around a week after we got back.

Tape recorder. If you are going to do research (and you are, of course, right? This is a business trip. Right?) take Denise McInerney’s suggestion (we did) and take along a small tape recorder. Many times you will find fascinating detailed information on plaques and signs around the castles that is not in any of the guidebooks or other reference material. You can spend you whole trip writing this stuff down, or you can read it outloud to yourself. Your choice.

Binoculars. If you like bird watching definitely take a pair; even if you don’t like the birdies, many times you can’t get close to the detail around the doorway on the third floor of a castle, (because you are looking at it from ground level, the upper floors long since rotted away) and the binoculars would be helpful.

Flashlight. Get a small flashlight, one that will fit in your purse and keep it with you at all times. Why, you ask? Good question. There are many dark corners and tucked away places in old castles. A little illumination in these cases is very helpful, especially on rainy days.

Surprisingly, few of the questions we had carefully prepared to research were actually answered. What we discovered instead was a deep love for the chilly, windy, endlessly varied country that is Scotland, and a hands-on feel for the history that is many times older than our own. Was it worthwhile, then? Absolutely!

~~~~~
Pam Poulsen is a Golden Heart Finalist for her paranormal manuscript, For All Time, and is now hard at work on a Scottish historical. Laurin Wittig is also hard at work on a Scottish historical. They are already planning their return trip to Scotland.