By Robin L.L. Allen

(From the May 2004 issue of the Update.)

Last week, I commuted to work with Julia Quinn and Debbie Macomber. A few weeks before that, it was Suzanne Brockmann, Jayne Ann Krentz, and Patricia Gaffney. Well, those were the big names—there were lots of others, like an RWA member who’s both a published author and a certified tax preparer, and the St. Martin’s and Warner editors.

And no, I have not resorted to kidnapping the NYT List in order to use the HOV lanes. (Hey, there’s an idea . . . !) I’m talking about speakers on tape from the WRW library.

I dreaded going back to work because it include a 57-mile commute in each direction (Fredericksburg, VA, to Washington, DC). Schedules and location kept me out of car or vanpools and therefore out of the HOV lanes. Even on the best day, commuting took a minimum of an hour and fifteen minutes each way. What ticked me off the most was that for two and a half hours a day I couldn’t even think about writing. Or could I?

“Well, at least you can listen to books-on-tape,” one friend reassured me. Not me. Last time I tried that, I was so caught up in the story, not only did I miss my exit, I had no recollection of most of the drive home—I could have left tread marked corpses and flaming 18-wheelers behind me without ever knowing it. Not a good scenario for a daily I-95 commute!

BUT—tapes. I had heard about the WRW library, but always figured I did not have time to listen to tapes at home, and would probably wander off to do laundry and miss the relevant information anyway. Actually, I hoped I would be spending my time doing something even more useful, like Finishing The Damn Book. Not to mention the fact that my kids prefer Elmo in any form to Tax Tips for the Part-time Writer.

Yes, I had tons of excuses ready for not listening at home, but since I was already trapped in the car maybe I could try a couple of tapes. I dug out my library list and started highlighting possible topics of interest. Then I stepped back to stare at the now-bright-yellow pages. My wish list was a whole lot longer than I had expected. Some were “must hears"—like the Keynote from the 2002 RWA Convention. Others were more at the “Huh-I’d never go to that in person . . . wonder what it’s really all about?” level.

I started ordering them five at a time, figuring that would give me one tape a day for a week. Logical. Reasonable. But it didn’t take into account this past winter’s weather, the inability of any municipality in a tri-state area to clear the streets of snow, or the infamous Tractor Guy. There were days I listened to three tapes in the morning.

The amazing thing was I found my stress levels dropping. I wasn’t wasting time sitting in traffic; I was listening to people I respect and admire on topics I was interested in. And staying sane during three-plus hour commutes. And, it turns out, learning a lot.

I’ve learned that mileage to and from chapter meetings, not just conferences, can be taken off your taxes if you are conducting your “business of writing” in a professional manner. For me, coming from Fredericksburg, that’s over $350 a year I can now deduct with a little bit of back-up paperwork.

From comments that editors or authors made during the Q and A sessions after a talk, I’ve learned which editors are looking for atypical stories for their houses.

I get tips on the in-and-outs of publishing politics and marketing from NYT bestsellers. So, tell me, is the regional marketing representative from your publishing house on your Christmas card list yet?

I am secure in the knowledge that some authors have viable careers doing a page a day, four days a week, while others do 35 pages a day, six days a week, which leaves a comfortably W-I-D-E middle ground for the rest of us.

Probably 70 percent of the speakers I’ve listened to referenced the same four books. Does it surprise anyone that I’ve now put four certain books at the top of my “to get” list? (Reference books? Yup, I know how to take those off my taxes, too.) When two different speakers on unrelated tapes suggested listening to “anything Julia Quinn presented on dialogue,” I went down the library list and found her tape—and discovered not only do I know a whole lot more about dialogue than I thought—I am doing it right! And I’ve had fun. (Fun commuting? Geez, there’s a concept!!) I’ve cried with Suz Brockmann’s stories of how 9-11 made her believe in romance more than ever before. Laughed with stories of newly bought authors calling the publishing house back “to make sure they really meant it.” Groaned along with tales of crooked agents. Nodded along with “mom tales” of things kids have done that author-moms then turned into storylines. Do the other commuters on the road think I’m insane? Probably. Do I care? Nope.

There are some down sides—topics handled in a dull manner or by people who are just really poor public speakers. There’s the occasional misleadingly titled panel. That’s what the fast-forward button is for. The biggest drawback is the lack of a binder from the conference that has all the handouts. Luckily, most tapes include an email or web address to send off to for copies of the materials referenced.

The tapes usually run about 45 minutes, including questions. You can stop, rewind, or as mentioned fast forward. I’ve listened in 10 minute spates between traffic reports, or for 2 hours straight pausing only to change tapes. Some mornings, I just listen to the radio, but usually I find myself grabbing a tape. Why? Because I’ve found they are really making a difference. I’m more confident in what I write. I’m beginning to understand where my weak spots really are—and better yet, where my strengths really are.

I started out joking with friends and family that my commute was now professional development time. Six months later, I’m writing more and I’m less stressed from the drive I have to make anyway. It looks like I wasn’t kidding.

Chapter membership provides a wealth of resources to authors of every level. I think the library is one of WRW’s most under-used treasure troves—both books and tapes. You’ll be surprised at what you find. Check it out!

~~~~~
Robin L.L. Allen has been an active WRW member since 1996. She’s been Program Chair and currently serves on the Program Committee and Taping Committee. She writes contemporary romantic suspense.

By Laura Armstrong

(From the May 2004 issue of the Update.)

The white Tyvek envelope on the dining room table looked familiar. Ah, yes, that would be my own handwriting. My critiques from the Marlenes were home.

There wasn’t a moment to survey them in private. I was just home from work, the kids were running circles around me smacking each other with pretend light sabers, and my husband was asking, “What time’s dinner? I’ve got basketball tonight.” I snatched up the envelope and made for the relative peace of my kitchen.

It took me a minute to process the contents of the envelope. It was no surprise that my score wasn’t the highest. The good news was it wasn’t the lowest. The bad news was it also wasn’t all that close to the middle. “Ow-ee,” as my youngest would say.

Judge Number 1 (not the real number) gave me reasonably solid marks and had nice things to say about some of the things I liked about the story myself. Her criticism was gently handed to me, and I nodded over it. Thank you, Judge Number 1.

Judge Number 2 (again, not the real number) was a different story. “Well, someone must have been in a bad mood that day,” was my first thought. She pretty well slammed me. She didn’t like my main character, she thought my dialogue was below average, and it was obvious she was scraping for something to say in the “Describe one thing the author did well” section. It stung.

Thank you, Judge Number 2.

Don’t misunderstand me. I mean that.

It took a few readings of the criticism to get to that state of gratitude. It took a couple hours of in-bed-ceiling-staring, too. Was I that bad? Was I pursuing a dream that was unrealistic? I had the expected talk with my husband. “Maybe I should just quit writing,” I suggested half-heartedly. We both knew it was a ploy for sympathy. He snorted and said, “Cut it out. You’re good at this and you know it. When did you write that thing, anyway?” (We are staying married, by the way. He passed the test.)

This was a good point. My contest entry was the very first book I’d ever completed, written five years ago, before I knew RWA or WRW existed or realized that writing was a tough business. I’d written it for fun, primarily just to see if I could do it. I hadn’t revised it other than make sure everything was spelled correctly and the punctuation was reasonably correct.

That was one of the things Number 2 was annoyed with me about, by the way.

The fact is, she was right. Her comments were insightful, and, ego out of the way, I could see what she meant. I had given very little for the reader to like about my main character. Knowing the full story in my head, I liked her, and I knew the reader would grow to like her, but had I convinced anyone of her worthiness in the opening chapters? Not really.

My use of dialogue, which I consider one of my strengths, did not show to its best in the pages offered. I got caught in that old trap of too much description. I yammered at the reader with too much backstory. My opening scene should have been the third scene. It established the main characters and gave the reader a better idea of what the story was about. Instead, I went for artistic impact. Number 2 was not having any of that.

Thank you, Number 2. You were right. You might have been more generous, but you know what? I’m glad you weren’t. I wouldn’t have paid enough attention to a “nice job.”

The next day I gathered my strength and reread my entry. Same words, but something had changed, like looking through a stereoscope. You look and look and for a long time you see two copies of the same picture. All of a sudden your focus shifts and there it is, a three-dimensional scene.

The judges’ comments gave me that shift in focus. I’m not going to stop writing. I’m a three-dimensional writer. I can fall in love with my characters, pour myself into the story, and then step back and acknowledge what’s wrong with it. My old book needs work. I have grown as a writer since that first effort. I’m excited about tearing it apart and making it better.

Maybe next year I’ll resubmit the first chapters of this book. I hope I get the same set of judges. Number 1 gave me encouragement. Number 2 sliced at the entry objectively. I almost hope Number 2 is in a bad mood again. Well, maybe not, but even if she is, she’ll be reading a better entry.

~~~~~
Laura Armstrong, between duties as the computer department for a trade association, Washington Romance Writers webmistress, and the usual wife-and-mother gig, writes (and rewrites) romance novels.

by Maggie Toussaint

(From the March 2004 issue of the Update.)

My wolf of self-doubt is back. He prowls around the edges of my mind, occasionally gnawing on my confidence. His sharp teeth make quick work of my vulnerabilities.

He howls gleefully when those SASEs in my handwriting come in the return mail. Like a silvery shadow, he ebbs in and out of my consciousness, striking when I am weak.

When I am between projects, my wolf of self-doubt is at his most bold. His snickering voice tells me that there couldn’t possibly be a marketable story in this disorganized chaos I call a brain. He sniffs disdainfully at the lists I make, the things I want to write about.

He bounds across the snowy white computer screen, the one that is barren except for the mocking slash of the blinking cursor. In my midnight hour, I take a stand against my self-doubt. I reach deep inside and believe that the next story will come.

Just as characters have arcs, so do writers. It isn’t easy to change and grow; it takes a giant leap of faith to abandon the safe world of your last story and people a barren universe with new characters. Here’s how I face this challenge.

I cast out my wolf of self-doubt with determination. I scan headlines and watch movies and listen to conversations everywhere I go, absorbing, assimilating, what-iffing. With each new idea, creativity sparkles and story possibilities glimmer. I boost my imagination by exploring other artistic pursuits: music, arts and crafts, sewing, gardening. I recharge until I reach a critical juncture, one in which ideas saturate my thoughts.

This primordial broth is flavored by my past experiences, my unconscious themes, and my level of expertise at crafting stories. In the steamy mist of prewriting, I envision a spunky heroine, a capable but flawed alpha hero, and an emotional conflict that puts this man and this woman on a collision course. From my imagination I pull a series of character-driven events that propel these people towards a problem they can’t overcome without character growth.

Tending to my bodily comfort frees my mind for the magic of creation. I hone my concentration by making the area immediately around my computer writer-friendly. I listen to upbeat guitar instrumentals, I post emotion evoking pictures in my work space, I cover my lap with a heated throw to keep my arthritic joints limber, I turn on the ceiling fan to deal with those pesky hot flashes, and I use chocolate to fix everything else.

When the story flows, I don’t sense my wolf at all. He can’t tolerate the bright campfire of a fresh plot and three dimensional characters. There is no room in my head for doubt when words blaze across my computer screen.

Why can’t I banish my wolf of self-doubt forever? Because doubting is as much a part of my writing process as the flash and burn. Without extending myself past my comfort zone, I wouldn’t continue to grow as a writer.

Maybe your wolf goes by another name, but he’s there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for your personal dark moment. You want to beat your wolf of self-doubt? Stare him dead in the eye and banish him with the most powerful affirmation in your vocabulary: I am a writer. Now, get to work!

~~~~~
Maggie Toussaint is a member of Washington Romance Writers. She writes contemporary romance and mystery.

By Dara Girard

(From the February 2004 issue of the Update.)

1) Open the envelope. Use a letter opener, if it’s your first time. Trembling fingers will create a mess. Despite the fact that it’s discouraging to receive envelopes with your own handwriting you may be surprised what is inside.  It could be a request for more information or a revision. Don’t automatically assume it’s a flat out rejection.  People have missed opportunities this way.

2) Read through the rejection letter. Even if it’s a form rejection, you may get a laugh at how pretentious it sounds.

3) Check for advice. If it’s a form rejection (something that’s addressed Dear Contributor or Author and has ‘doesn’t meet our present needs’) chuck it. However, if an agent or editor has taken the time to add a personal note, jump for joy. That is a gift. But you don’t have to take the advice if you don’t agree. It’s just an opinion.

4) Be upset, but not bitter. This is not the time to tell everyone from your spouse to your mechanic that so and so editor or agent is a (fill in the blank) or that such and such publisher is a (fill in the blank). Tantrum throwers are interesting to watch, but rarely listened to. Except on the odd occasion when the cousin of the mechanic happens to work at such and such publisher and blacklists you. It’s a small world.

5) Cry, but don’t sob. It may feel as though your heart has been broken. However, the basis of the rejection could be as simple as a case of indigestion or a bad hair day and that is certainly not something to sob about.  It’s just an opinion, not a judgment of your worth. Try to remember all of the famous people who have been rejected for silly reasons.

6) If they request changes or to see more of your work, send it. It’s not easy to get an editor’s attention so this is not a situation to take lightly. However, I must reiterate, make changes only if you agree. They are not obligated to buy your work just because you made changes. Think of it this way. It’s all about integrity! You wouldn’t wear a thong just because your boss hints at a promotion, right?

7) Send out the manuscript again then mope. In exactly that order. You have every right to be discouraged, but do so when you have the hopes of getting a yes elsewhere. A manuscript in your desk drawer is an assured ‘No.’

8) Mark the rejection on your list. You don’t want to foolishly send a rejected manuscript to the same place. Also this list will be critical when you’re ultimately published.

9) Do not send poison pen letters or death threats. Rejection is not personal, though it may feel so. Submissions are like job interviews. If you’re not hired, there are plenty of other places that will hire you. The publishing industry is small, so making enemies isn’t the wisest thing to do.

10) Celebrate. Buy a pen, rent a video, buy flowers. I know this sounds strange, but it’s a good habit to develop. Many dreamers don’t even reach the rejection stage because they haven’t written anything or have been working on the same fifty pages for thirty years. You’re on the same path as Stephen King, JK Rowling, Anne Rice and others who have had work rejected. It’s a cool club to be part of.

11) Avoid the waiting place. Tuck the rejection carefully in the trash bin (you can save it if it’s really interesting) then write. Anything--an essay, short story, poem, novel, journal, letter. You cannot let rejection take away the joy of writing. Never let anyone else’s opinion define who you are.

12) Remember that rejections are necessary. They prepare you for the next heartache: reviews.

~~~~~
Dara Girard is an expert crier and uses her rejections for origami practice. Her novel Table for Two (BET Arabesque) is in stores now.

by Maggie Toussaint

(From the December 2003 issue of the Update.)

Do you ever feel like you’re drowning in the slush pile? Do you wish you knew the magic answer that would ensure publication? Many of us believe we’re close to achieving publication. We’ve earned our RWA Pro-pins, we’re doing well in contests, we’re volunteering at local and national romance chapters, so why are we still in the slush pile? What is holding us back?

Here’s my simplistic take on the situation: we’ve got to have a great story and we’ve got to be in the right place at the right time. I can’t help you with the timing of your submission, but maybe a few tips from my kitchen may give you that missing something that editors and readers want.

Cooking Tip #1: Chicken Soup. I’ve been cooking for years, but it wasn’t until a friend made me some of her chicken soup that I learned a valuable lesson. My chicken soup is adequate, but hers, well my mouth is watering just thinking about it. There was a certain fullness to the taste and a body to her broth that lingered in my mouth long after the soup was gone. When asked about the secret of her soup, my friend said there was nothing secret about it. The only difference between my recipe and hers was that she started with chicken stock instead of water.

That got me to thinking. Starting with prepared stock enhanced the entire texture of chicken soup. It was thicker, richer, fuller in a way I’d never experienced in my own cooking. A parallel in writing immediately occurred to me. Start with stock characters and then add your own ingredients.

Using a stock character gives you an immediate base to build on, it gives you a set of easily identifiable reactions that jump-start your writing onto a whole new plane. Don’t make your writing clichéd, but freshen something familiar with what you do best. Haven’t you seen reviews or book blurbs that say: Cinderella with a fresh twist or Beauty and the Beast as you’ve never seen it. Fairy tale themes have a familiar resonance. What woman wouldn’t want to find true love and have her whole life come together? Make your story one that will be remembered long after it’s read. Find the magical “stock” that breathes fresh life into that shelf of rejections.

Cooking Tip #2: Breakfast Casserole. Have you ever been to one of those brunches or church socials where several women made the same recipe for “Breakfast Casserole” and all of the cooked dishes looked similar? Then when you tried them they all tasted different? The analyst in me couldn’t get over how different and yet the same they were. The key to the differences was unique to each cook. One lady always used butter even if a recipe called for margarine, another used sharp cheese instead of mild. You get the general idea. Different but yet the same.

Writing for category romance can be likened to those breakfast casseroles. Each category has a certain set of ingredients it looks for, things that the loyal reader recognizes and wants to read. The editors are looking for something familiar and yet different. They want to see tried and true plot devices because they know their market. Our challenge is to find the combination of familiar ingredients that makes our stories uniquely marketable. I have a whole shelf of Silhouette Romances and from the big print on back covers it is easy to see what types of stories they want. Babies sell. Cowboys sell. Secrets sell. Marriage of conveniences sell. Do the research to find out what sells in your target market, and then write the best book you can. One that’s uniquely your own take on a familiar recipe.

Cooking Tip #3: Chocolate Chip Cookies. Everybody knows the difference in a store-bought cookie and one that’s just out of the oven. It’s like night and day, isn’t it? I was sure my homemade cookies were The Best because they were better than store-bought. I believed this until I tasted someone else’s homemade chocolate chip cookies. The combination of taste, texture, and aroma of her magnificent cookies was in a whole different league than my cookies. Even though I knew her cookies had to be loaded with calories and fat and everything that wasn’t good for me, I couldn’t keep myself from reaching for more. Hmm.

The master cookie chef reluctantly loaned me her secret. I was appalled by how simple it was. She baked cookies every chance she got so that she knew the exact proportion of ingredients and cooking conditions required to yield the cookie of her dreams. The lesson I learned from this is that she worked hard at her craft until it was the very best she could make it. Then she kept at it to keep her quality at a very high level.

This was starting to sound like writing again. With the wisdom of hindsight, I see that my first writing efforts, the masterpieces that were surely breakout novels, were a lot like the misshapen slightly burnt cookies of an amateur baker. In order to turn out the lightly browned, chewy but crisp delicacies that taste divine (or the manuscript that makes you a household name), you have to go beyond adequate. Just because your story is better than the worst book you ever read doesn’t mean your story is ready for the big time. If you work diligently at what you do, your craftsmanship will improve. You’re not competing with the worst that’s on the market. You’re competing with the very best romance has to offer.

So there you have it. Three simple lessons from the kitchen. Start with familiar or stock ingredients to give your story more body. Flavor your story with the seasoning that is uniquely yours. And hone your writing ability through practice to keep readers reaching for more. Piece of cake.

~~~~~
Maggie Toussaint continues to cook up novels and hopes that she’ll soon be in the right place for her big break. A member of Washington Romance Writers, she writes contemporary category romance.

by Diane Perkins

(From the December 2003 issue of the Update.)

The deadline to enter WRW’s prestigious Marlene Contest is fast approaching (January 13!). The Marlene Awards are open to members of RWA who have not signed a publishing contract for novel length romantic fiction (regardless of publisher) within three years of the contest deadline. The entry must have a projected minimum length of 50,000 words. Categories include: Single Title Contemporary Romance (final judge Jennifer Enderlin of St. Martin’s Press); Series Contemporary Romance—long and short (final judge Stephanie Maurer of Harlequin); Historical Romance (final judge Alicia Condon of Dorchester); and Paranormal Romance (Erika Tsang of Avon). The winners will receive a Marlene Medallion and a critique by either Shirley Hailstock, Suzanne Brockman, Linda Lael Miller, or Ann Lawrence.

If that alone does not convince an aspiring romance writer to enter the Marlene, let me, the Contest Empress, twist your arm.

Kathy Caskie (Rules Of Engagement, Warner, May 2004, and Golden Heart winner in 2002) dubbed me the “Contest Empress” because I have entered and won several RWA chapter contests over the years, culminating in my winning the 2003 Golden Heart for best Long Historical. Two years ago, I was entering two manuscripts to the same contests. I wound up a double finalist in three contests, made the finals a total of seven times, and won first place four times. That year my manuscripts came in first and third in The Marlene. So I am a firm believer in entering Romance writing contests.

Let me tell you why.

1. Contests are an excellent way for an unpublished writer to come to an editor’s or agent’s notice. To me, this is really the only reason to enter contests. When I did my double entering, it was for the express purpose of double-finaling and standing out from others. I had no Golden Heart entry that year and had to devise some way to keep my name alive for that potential editor who might decide to buy my manuscript. Look to see if the editor or agent you are hoping to attract is judging the contest. If you final in a contest and attend the conference where winners are announced, you will get extra attention from the agents and editors. If you make the finals often enough, your name will be remembered.

2. Contests give you a writing credit. If you are like me, when you began romance writing, you’d never written a word before. You have nothing of significance to put in a query letter. Making the finals in a RWA chapter contest gives you something to tell editors and agents to show you can write well.

3. Contests give you feedback from someone other than your best friend or mother. If you are wondering if your story idea works or if your writing is compelling, contests can help. RWA chapter contests are typically judged by experienced critiquers or published authors (and final judges—editors and agents) who may be able to tell you what is strong about your writing and what needs work. You can learn from the feedback you receive. Be careful, though, critiquing is very subjective, and what one judge loves another might totally trash. Low scores do not necessarily mean your writing is no good. It may mean you are pushing the envelope or breaking new ground. Only take the feedback seriously if it truly makes sense to you. On the other hand, if several judges give you the same feedback, listen carefully to what they say. Then still do what makes the most sense to you. Only you can write your own book.

4. Contests prepare you for the experience of submitting to editors. Some of us freeze up when it comes to sending our work “out there” to editors or agents. We’re afraid of rejection from the people who count the most, the ones who will buy our books. The stakes are not so high in submitting to contests. The negative comments judges give you will help you develop the calluses needed to face those inevitable rejection letters. (Everyone receives rejection letters, even best-selling authors.)

5. Contests can lead to SELLING. There are no guarantees that if you win contests, even multiple contests, it will lead to selling your manuscript, but it does happen. Six months ago I would not have included this as a reason to enter contests. I was a Golden Heart finalist for the second time with the same manuscript. When it made the finals in 2001, I sent it out to every agent and editor I could think of, but it was rejected over and over. Last Spring when I was notified that it made the finals again, I thought it was a lost cause. But on May 30, I received a phone call from Mills and Boon in England. Editor Kate Paice had judged my manuscript in the Golden Heart and wanted to buy it! And when The Mysterious Miss M is published in England in July 2004, it will have Golden Heart Winner on the cover. But that’s not all. Remember those contests won in 2002? One of them was judged by Melanie Murray of Warner Books. She was just waiting for me to finish the book. When I did, she bought it! The Improper Wife will be released November 2004. Two sales in six months, both due to contests.

Have I convinced you?

The Empress says give it a try!! Enter The Marlene. You never know what could happen to you.

Diane’s favorite contests (biased because these contests have been very kind to her!!):

• The Marlene—it has the most fabulous judges! And you win a fabulous pendant!!
• The Royal Ascot—great exposure and feedback if you write traditional or non-traditional Regencies.
• Put Your Heart in a Book—the New Jersey Romance Writers contest. Good judges, and the conference is close enough to attend.
• Fool for Love contest—The Virginia Romance Writers contest. Has a prestigious name, along with their Holt Medallion for published authors.
• Fabulous Five contest—WisRWA contest. Only five to ten pages to enter and it costs less, too.

~~~~~
Since making that first sale of her Golden Heart winner, Diane Perkins has contracted to sell FIVE books.

By Linda Voss

A media storm erupted at Nancy Richards-Akers’ death at the hands of her husband in 1999. It was the kind of fame you do not want to be remembered for. It was a romance cliché, the battle-decorated warrior and the beautiful heroine, but it was not the happy ending. That’s not what those who loved Nancy remember. Those at the WRW retreat in Harpers Ferry witnessed a different legacy when Laurin Wittig announced that WRW is donating $1,000 to the Center for Women and Families in Nancy’s name to fight domestic abuse. WRW also remembers Nancy with an annual award honoring a member for supporting and mentoring other writers (Nora Roberts was this year’s recipient.) Each year a WRW member attends the retreat on a full scholarship that is named in Nancy’s honor.

Former WRW member Judy Yoder remembers that Nancy “was very active in WRW from the start.” Nancy joined the organization in l984 and planned and chaired the first WRW Retreat in l985 and, as a result, was one of the first people to receive the Magic Crystal the following year. In l989 she conceived and organized the first Retreat Raffle. She also gave a number of workshops for the group. Following the birth of her third child, she became less active in the group, but remained a loyal member.

“She was beautiful, vibrant, alive, and she wore dramatic clothing,” said Binnie Braunstein. “She was known for mentoring other writers.” Many in WRW remember with appreciation her influence, including former WRW President Beth Fedorko. Julie Halperson remembers Nancy from a program. “She epitomized to me what a romance writer should be. She was very businesslike talking about what the editors wanted and the industry demanded.” Good friend Anne Marie Rogers remembers Nancy as an idea person, “you could suggest something and she would give you 50 ways you could do it,” but she was very organized to follow up and accomplish the thing as well.

Nancy tasted what life had to offer and kept her sense of humor about her. Karen Smith remembers one outing on the San Antonio River Walk after an RT conference with an RT cover model and some other writers. According to Karen, they drank him under the table doing raw oysters on the half shell and belting down shooters. Nancy was also a founding member of the RT conference spin-off, the Society of Purple Prose. “She was always available to help and an incredibly generous person.”

We’d all like to be remembered for the good in our lives, and those who love us remember the joy we brought to others. Nancy’s life has left a legacy. The year she died, WRW worked with RWA at the national conference in Chicago to donate children’s books to a local shelter in her name. WRW keeps a link on its website to the Akers Children Education Fund for friends who want to contribute to Nancy’s children’s education.

The year after Nancy died, author Pamela Johnson, who knew Nancy through one of the chat groups she participated in, was inspired to undertake the Crumbs anthology dedicated to Nancy. She collected essays on balancing writing and domestic life from over 75 writers and published them as Crumbs in the Keyboard through Echelon Press. With a generous donation from author Fern Michaels, over $1,500 has been donated to the Center for Women and Families in Nancy’s name. The essay authors donated all royalties, and Echelon Press matches it.

Possibly only in a romance crowd can you talk about a legacy of kindness, generosity, and love. Nancy Richards-Akers’ legacy continues to grow, furthered through those she touched and touching those who will never know her, but only the power of the qualities she personified.

~~~~~
WRW member Linda Voss authored, “The Muse as Puppy” in the Crumbs in The Keyboard anthology. Linda, writing as Kaitlyn Merlot, is busy sending out partials on her first completed manuscript, a New Orleans historical, titled, “Kiss Me Again”.

by Cathy Maxwell

My one piece of advice to anyone involved in a writing career is to be fearless. It takes guts to put yourself out there for everyone to read. And no, the crowd doesn’t always roar approval . . . but when they do-it’s sweet.

What exactly is involved in fearlessness? Well, here are the components I include in my definition of the word:

Vision. Know where you are going and why you want to get there. Keep your eye on the prize and not on the grind of everyday ups and downs.

Passion. Believe in what you are writing. Have something to say to your readers. Hold nothing back and do not flinch from the truth. Live for the moment when your story comes together—and struggle with the words until you get there. Remember there are two sides to the discipline of writing. The first is the plodding journeyman approach to craft and the second is something mercurial. It defies description. It’s unique to you alone, born out of your own inspiration and the insight you’ve gained into others’ souls through your experiences. What you are offering is yours alone to give.

Optimism. Reach for the stars. Never give up. Believe in yourself even when all others are ready to count you out. Success is rewarding, but often I’ve learned more from the things that didn’t always work out. Those challenges have taken my work to the next level and to accomplishments I hadn’t even imagined possible. Go forward with conviction.

A strong work ethic. I know brilliant writers who’ve never gotten past re-working a first chapter over and over again. And others who walk around with the ideas in their heads but they won’t or can’t take the time to put them down on paper. A book is written one painstaking, exasperating word after another. We write in fits and starts, in endless marathons, and when the rest of the world is living normally. Sometimes what is on the screen is crap; sometimes it’s brilliant; sometimes it’s passable. That’s the way it is. If you want to write, put your butt in a chair and join the fray. 

Courage. Here’s the heart of it. Don’t be afraid of writing or life. Be willing to stretch yourself and to take risks. Nothing is more boring than a writer who doesn’t challenge herself. Use your individuality to a competitive advantage and remember that whatever happens the sun will rise tomorrow, those who love you will still be there . . . and there will be more words to write, more stories to tell.

~~~~~
Cathy Maxwell is the author of The Wedding Wager (Avon Books 11/01) and The Marriage Contract (Avon Books 02/01).

By Gail Barrett

“Would you like to join a critique group?” That question, which I received via e-mail from another WRW member a year back, threw me off-balance. I’d been writing for six years, but never considered joining a critique group. Except for soliciting feedback from contest judges and selected friends and relatives, I’d kept my writing private. Did I have the nerve to show my work to fellow writers? Would it help me get published? Exactly how did a critique group work?

Not sure what I was getting into, I joined the group. A year later, I’ve drawn some conclusions about my experience.

The Benefits

Setting Goals: Our group made the commitment to meet twice a month on Saturday mornings. Every member e-mailed one chapter of her current work to the other members before the meeting so we could come prepared to discuss it. That pace nearly killed me because I was teaching high school full-time, but I had to submit something each meeting. I produced far more during the past year than I thought possible.

Camaraderie: At last! I could talk about my beloved book ad nauseum without being threatened with divorce. My critique partners didn’t mind picking apart my characters in excruciating detail. They enjoyed discussing my plot.

I could also share my successes and rejections with other writers who were going through the same emotional wringer. We commiserated and planned. We discussed agents, markets, and strategies. We had fun!

Insights: I no longer had to press my husband or mother for opinions and then endure their vague comments or helpless shrugs. My critique partners could spot flaws in my manuscript and even suggest ways to fix them.

By evaluating my partners’ work, I began to understand what an editor looks for. I learned both from their mistakes and what they did right.

The Drawbacks

Ego: Okay. I’d slaved over my chapter for weeks, poured my heart and soul into every sentence. I was convinced it rivaled Hemingway. A New York agent would snatch it out of the slush pile. I’d get that “major deal” and even sell movie rights.

My critique partners weren’t quite that enthusiastic. They didn’t like my hero. They couldn’t understand my conflict. They thought that snappy dialogue sucked.

When our group first met, we tread carefully on each other’s feelings. We couched negative comments in polite language. But gradually, we got tougher. Once we knew each other, we weren’t afraid to give negative opinions. We critically examined the manuscripts and became more blunt.

That created problems. Taking criticism was tough because I didn’t want to hear bad news. On the other hand, mincing around the truth wouldn’t help me improve. The critique group forced me to set aside my ego and stop taking comments personally. Unless I wanted to spend my life repeating errors, I had to be willing to listen.

At the same time, I had to figure out which suggestions to heed. If most of the group agreed on a point, then I knew I’d better take note. If only one person made a comment, then I had to decide whether to incorporate it into my work or not. Everyone contributed unique and valuable insights, but I had to learn to trust my instincts.

I also had to admit that I wasn’t God’s gift to critique groups, and not all my ideas were brilliant. When my partners didn’t follow my suggestions, I couldn’t take offense.

Fragmentation: Over time, some of us switched genres. At one point, various members of our group were writing category romance, women’s literature, romantic comedy, regency historical, and mainstream mystery. Suddenly, I realized I was trying to comment on types of books I didn’t read. If I wanted to critique effectively, I had to study those genres and make myself better informed.

Would it be better to belong to a group where all members write in the same genre? Maybe, but our diverse group also gave us the flexibility to experiment with our style.

The End?

All groups evolve. Some hang together for years, while others eventually disband. Ours will stay or go, depending on the needs of the members.

In the meantime, I’ve learned what makes an effective critique group. Every member has to have a true desire to be helpful. She must put aside her ego and objectively analyze the work. She has to keep current in the market, study, and continue to grow as a writer.

And for that effort, she’ll travel further down the road towards publishing in the company of good friends. What could be more fun than that?

~~~~~
Gail Barrett is a high school Spanish teacher who yearns to stay home every day and write.

By Steve Ciccarelli

Ahh, the wonderful differences between men and women! Were it not for this broad range of eternally explored distinctions, each and every one of us would be out of a job. What is it about this ever-spiraling dance we do which fascinates generation after generation? Is this continued attention more a celebration of sexual diversity or are the differences between the sexes so huge and so insurmountable that we really can’t understand each other?

There has long been a huge body of stereotypes on both sides which appear to be wholeheartedly supported by the media. In truth, some of these seem to be based loosely on fact but are often taken to extremes in weak attempts at extracting a laugh. What seems disturbing to me, as a man, is that the vast majority of such stereotypes seem to apply to the male gender and that the shallowness and frequency of their use seems to be increasing over time.

I, myself, have been confronted with such preconceptions. As far as literary genres are concerned, I have two great loves in life, romance and science fiction. On the day I sat down in front of my computer and contemplated writing fiction, I made a conscious choice between these two. My reasons were many and varied for selecting romance (and are often revisited!), but select it I did. To this day, when I surface this decision to others, I’m invariably asked why I chose Romance. After all, wouldn’t a man prefer to write about sub-orbital tachyo-positronic mind control devices?

The statistics are compelling. With the exception of a small (I like to think “elite") handful of other male romance writers, we’re very much in the minority. Science fiction is far more diverse. The same trends occur when analyzing readership: romance’s audience is predominantly female while science fiction’s is almost 50/50. Why is this? What is it about romance which scares men—both readers and writers alike—off?

At the risk of sounding like an authority, I’d like to explore these questions a bit further. The fact is, I am decidedly male, but this hardly allows me to act as spokesperson for the entire testosterone-tinged population. Rather, I’d like to take this opportunity to explore my own experiences and share my own opinion as to why romance and relationships in general scare the hell out of the average male.

Some of the more humorous (and accurate) stereotypes about men center around our being single-minded of purpose. It’s true. When faced with a challenging task, we can often immerse ourselves wholly in the moment. Often times our very self-worth becomes inextricably intertwined in its successfully completion.

This ability to focus (or perhaps, inability to unfocus) applies equally to unsticking rust-bound bolts off of a carburetor as it does to successfully driving to a destination without assistance. As the formidability of a challenge rises, a mix of pride and personal value comes into play, any outside interfer..er, assistance implies that we are incapable—that somehow our facilities are less than up to the challenge. See, men thrive on challenges. They give us immediate feedback that we are strong, be it mentally or physically. And that directly translates into a capacity to impress (and hopefully mate with) females. Mind you, when this stubborn persistence manifests itself in driving around the block for the fifth time rather than stopping to ask for directions, few men take the time to realize that their chances of mating with the person in the passenger seat are, minute by minute, plummeting. Ahh, the drawbacks of being overly focused! But I digress.

So, how does this apply to emotions?

Early on in the process of socialization, children learn that there’s a pecking order to things. I’ve watched my own kids have this taught to them as they’ve grown over the years and I’ve reflected back on my experiences during those formative times. Little has changed. The strong and the beautiful trade their genetic currency for popularity while the weak and homely stand aside and wish. For the most part, I think it’s these latter groups who come out ahead in the long run as they’re forced to compensate for smaller biceps and more severe acne with personal growth, insight and determination which will serve them well in their later years. Again, I digress—this is a subject for another article. For now, it’s sufficient to point out that all the players in this juvenile game learn one thing: Life’s all about strength. To be weak, especially as a male, is to be shunned and labeled everything from sissy to . . . well, worse.

Peer pressure, as a kid, is overwhelming. So for guys, while our emotional outlook toward life and the opposite sex is being formed, we’re subconsciously being beaten over the head that the very emotions we’re discovering are bad. Never mind that each of our peers is feeling the exact same thing. Emotions (read: NEEDS, and hence read: WEAKNESS) are unwelcome, and are to be avoided at all costs. It’s all part of “big boys don’t cry.”

So, where does that leave romance writers? It leaves them without heroes. A man without needs is a man without motivation. And a man incapable of expressing himself emotionally isn’t someone we want our sexy, brazen, or otherwise empathetic heroines to hook up with.

Moreover, where does this leave us male romance writers? Perhaps this ingrained and reinforced submergence of emotions/needs/weakness from such an early age goes far in explaining why there are so few of us. And perhaps it explains why so few modern males seem to have those qualities which we characterize as heroic. For a romance hero, it’s often sufficient for his post-dark-moment epiphany to be his recognition that he has needs in the first place. It’s not that those needs didn’t exist before, it’s just that he was fully unaware of their presence. Growth in a male romance hero is often something as simple as coming to terms with the fact that he’s not an island.

From this side of the gender fence, it seems this issue isn’t very compelling to women. While the larval male is out on the playground beating each other senseless in dodge ball, young women are learning the ins and outs of forming emotional support groups. They’re discussing desires and needs and immersing themselves in the notion that emotional turmoil is a constant. For them, the ultimate question isn’t whether they’re needy, it’s how to manipulate their support infrastructure to obtain the answers they want to hear.

Thus, when the inevitable emotional conflict arises between the oblivious male and the oversensitized female, she does the one thing which spells doom for men and women ever coming to an understanding: she asks every single person on the planet why he did what he did except the one person who can give her the answer she needs—the guy who did whatever it was which perplexed her in the first place! This initiates a whole spiral of speculation which whirls around and around, feeding on itself until the response she finally applies to the situation is wholly inappropriate to the initial event. Then the poor guy just stands there and thinks, “Where the hell did that come from?” And thus the stereotypes are reinforced.

Maybe it’s a good thing, for all our sakes, that this gap in communication persists. I can only imagine some cro-magnon romance heroine wandering off past that big rock to the west of the clan’s cave and banding together with her prehistoric emotional support group to discuss why her less-than-completely-stooped, dark and hairy man was so uncommunicative after bagging the prior night’s mastodon-steaks. I’m sure they probably came up with some wonderful theories. Perhaps he didn’t like her hair. Or perhaps the furs she’d been wearing for the past few seasons suddenly made her hips look too wide. Meanwhile, Ugnack is back by the campfire wincing and nursing a set of bruised ribs from the earlier tusk-to-the-chest hunting accident. Why didn’t he just speak up? Perhaps he was too busy reveling in the adoration and other interpersonal rewards of being a good provider to mention to her just how stupidly close he came to losing his life.

So perhaps it’s just as well we are the way we are. I’m sure that everyone from Mary Kay to the divorce litigation industry would agree with me.

Heaven help us if guys somehow became more in touch with the forces within them and became comfortable being needy. I, for one, would be massively upset. It’s kind of neat being one of three or four other guys at the RWA Nationals. I’m not sure if I’m up to sitting around a table with a dozen other guys talking about emotions and brazen women and the twelve stages of intimacy. It’s a lot more comfortable to be talking about manly things like killing mastodons and unsticking rusty carburetor bolts. After all, this emotion stuff makes most of us feel all squooshie inside. And squooshie is too damned close to being weak and needy for most men’s tastes. I guess we don’t have much choice but to revel in the status quo, at least for the time being. If romance does catch on with guys, expect a sudden surge in both readership and the number of writers at nationals. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Oh, and as a side note to all the single women out there—start taking a second look at those smaller-framed wallflowers from your old yearbooks. Chances are their acne has cleared up nicely by now. You may be pleasantly surprised just how emotionally well adjusted—if still a bit shy—they are. I’ll give odds they’re worth the search.

~~~~~
Steve Ciccarelli appears to have risen above the general cluelessness of his gender and now writes contemporary romances. His agent recently submitted a revised manuscript to Harlequin and he’s working to complete his second book before the April retreat.