Inaugural CONTEST! The Measure of Success

Eleven months ago, I packed up my bags, and my fluffy cat, and moved to China. I vowed I would not come back without a book deal. Well, here I am, with no book deal, but lots of cute shoes and silk scarves. Now, while I never underestimate the power of shoes, I am disappointed that I wasn't as productive as I wanted to be. But the good news is that during a little contest called FanLit I met a group of supremely talented and supportive people who share my passion for romance.

Was my journey a success? You can measure success in many ways. There are the small victories. Rejection letters mean you actually sent something out, so that is a kind of success if you have writer's block. There are larger triumphs, like finaling in contests, or being asked to submit a rewrite. I know many talented writers who are celebrating those successes right now. There is the success of seeing your book in print for the first time, the moment you hit a bestseller list, the RITA nomination.

And then there is the thrill every time you write a passage you know is better than anything you've written before. That's the success I'm celebrating right now.

I have a phobia about posting excerpts on my blog. I think it stems from the fear that I will read them next week and feel horribly ashamed. But I want to post a few excerpts now, to show you how far I've come, and what I have to celebrate.

My first attempt at writing romance featured a squeaky-clean missionary's daughter who was dragged into 1890 Shanghai's seamy underworld by a bad-boy opium trader. Unfortunately, the hero and heroine did not meet until page 50, and when they did, much head-hopping, leaden dialogue, and cliche-ridden situations ensued. I vomited out 400 pages, and then realized it was truly awful.

Here, for your amusement, is an excerpt from The Devil of Shanghai--completely unedited, in all its unbridled glory, rendered in purple, because purple it is:

So many layers of cloth between them, yet Mabel felt naked with longing. She had seen the beauty of this man’s naked chest, had lain beneath him in dreams and in reality. He was the inevitability of the pleasure and delight she could no longer deny herself. He was the reason she breathed. She was swept up in the dazzling passion of a boundless love. She could hear the Queen of the Night's aria ringing in her ears as his hands freed her heaving breasts and his lips teased the aching peaks of her nipples. Even if he lost all respect for her, even if he only wanted her as a mistress, regardless of the consequences, she was his. Even though they were members of two different worlds. Wasn’t it ironic that her mother had found solace and love in the arms of a penniless American doctor and now she, a penniless American herself, was finding passion with an Earl?Mmhm. I said "heaving breasts." Good lord.

I know you're saying to yourself, "But what does this have to do with me winning something?" You're right, I've been awfully slow getting to the contest part of the post.

Here are your choices:

1. You can submit an excerpt that make you terribly ashamed, or one that makes you darn right proud. It can be the thrilling tale you wrote about My Little Pony in the fifth grade, or something from your latest WIP. I don't care. Just make me laugh, or sigh with envy, or both.

OR

2. Tell me how you define success at this point in your writing career.
The winner will be randomly selected by a process that involves my cat and slips of paper soaked in a catnip solution, and announced on Friday, July 6th.

The prize is a silk scarf I bought in Suzhou, China from one of the most famous Chinese silk brands, Xiu Niang.



The scarf is HUGE, you could use it as a table cloth, or wear it to RWA National (if it arrives in time). It's high-quality 100% pure silk that shimmers in the moonlight. The photos don't do the vibrant colors justice.

And so begins my first contest. Thank you for reading, thank you for getting me through the dark times, and thank you for helping me celebrate the small successes in life.

p.s. Guest blogger Carrie Ryan is talking about a similar subject today over at the Manuscript Mavens blog.

Where the Air Is Clear

The first thing that hits you when you step out of the airport after a prolonged sojourn in China, is the blessed blueness of the sky and the sweet, fresh air. I'm still marveling about it two weeks later.

We're grandma-sitting in Palo Alto right now, giving my bf's aunt a vacation. During the day I field the many questions of a wandering mind, dole out reassurances, and think up clever distractions to calm anxiety. But grandma goes to bed at 8:30, and then I take my laptop out under the stars to write. We're here for two more weeks and then it's back to our little 1886 farmhouse in the Pacific Northwest. Our renters say there's a bountiful crop of luscious raspberries and plump blueberries in our yard this year--yum. Cherry trees and fresh rosemary will be so wonderful after six months living in a hotel.

My favorite baby was in the hospital getting a cleft lip operation on my last day at the orphanage, so I couldn't say goodbye. But I knew his life was improving, and I have high hopes for his eventual adoption. I'm staying in contact with the other volunteers, and they will keep me updated. For some obscure reason, the Chinese government makes it impossible to adopt from a facility where you were a volunteer, and they recently tightened their adoption restrictions, so that my bf and I would have to be married for two years before we could adopt. I sobbed and sobbed when I had to leave. I wanted to take pictures of the babies but it was forbidden. I'll never forget their dazzling smiles and pleading eyes.

I'll post reflections about my time in China as they come to me, as well as the long-promised post on men reading romance. I've been a very inconstant blogger lately, and for that I apologize. I've never been good about sticking to routines during times of change. My writing suffered as well, but now I'm back on track and sinking my teeth into a dark and sexy gothic featuring a brilliant, obsessive hero named Rodric. More on that later. And check back next week for information about my very first contest. The prize will be a treasure I bought in China.

Oh, and speaking of contests, I am dying to win a coveted single-maven critique from one of the fabulous Manuscript Mavens. Read all about this priceless prize here. I haven't won a blog contest yet. Maybe this will be my lucky link.

I'll leave you with some photos. Thanks for reading, and sorry for the long dry spell.

No, I do not play the pipa (more's the pity), but the gentleman sitting next to me is a zither master. He was teaching me a traditional pingtan aria for voice.

Scene from the opera we saw in Beijing, The Marriage Between the Dragon and the Phoenix.

Azumeth on top of the Beijing Ancient Observatory.


Shadow puppet play in Wu Zhen.

Rice wine distillery in Wu Zhen.

Beijing Again

I'm back in Suzhou after my third, and favorite, visit to Beijing. More about that later. For now, here's proof that we climbed a section of the Great Wall on a blustery yet clear and pollution-free summer's day. I promise to make my next post writing related (since I owe you a review of The Taming of the Duke from a male perspective), but here's a romantic detail for you. My partner and I have taken photos of our hands every May since our first year together. This is the eighth photo and the second one in China.

Pages in Bloom

I'm going to spend the rest of April chained to my desk, finishing my current WIP, Heart of Ash. So no blogging for me (see NTW post). My parents come to visit in two weeks, and I won't get much writing done while they are here, so it's now or never. Wish me luck, and I'll see you back online in May.

I'll leave you with some pictures of spring in China, in the hope that they inspire your pages to bloom.

Good News

Thank you all for being so supportive! I went to the orphanage again today, and it is so emotionally draining. I was the only volunteer this afternoon, and when I walked into the baby room there were at least ten babies balling their eyes out and no one in the room at all. It made me soooo sad. But I have really good news. There will be a team of surgeons visiting Suzhou in October to perform cleft lip and palate surgeries! They are from Alliance for Smiles, a wonderful organization out of San Francisco.

If you would like more information about the orphanage, you can pm me (link on my website). Thanks, again, for all your kind words and thoughts.

Two Tigers

Today I began a volunteer job at an orphanage. Somehow I just didn't picture all the babies with disabilities. Cleft lips and palates, Down's syndrome, preemies, they were all strapped into cribs, tearing my heart out with their bright eyes and big smiles. The orphanage was as clean and cheerful as it could be, and I was happy to hear them playing Mozart's Twinkle Twinkle variations, but there just aren't enough arms to hold them, let alone families to love them. The adoption rate from this particular orphanage is abysmally low, and I have yet to determine why. Perhaps because of the high percentage of children with special needs.

One tiny sweetie with a shock of fuzzy hair and the spindliest little legs I ever saw, fell asleep in my arms after cooing along to the tune of Frere Jacque. They have their own words to this song in Mandarin, here is the literal translation:

Two tigers, two tigers
Running fast, running fast
One has no ears, one has no tail
Truly strange, truly strange

There were over fifty little tigers in those two small rooms, and over half of them were there because of their "strangeness." It it made me feel so helpless when I saw their legs curling up from disuse, their eyes hungry for affection.

All I could do was sing them a song, and tell them they were not strange, but beautiful.

Weekend Getaway

We're going to the sleepy little town of Nan Xun for the weekend. Should be relaxing since it's not in any of the guidebooks. I'm bringing paper and a pen instead of my laptop.

Here's hoping your weekend is peaceful and productive.

xoxo

Lenora

Blocked Again

They've blocked blogger again in China--just when I was getting into a nice posting and commenting rhythm. Now I have to go through a proxy website and it takes forever...aargh!!! *shakes fist at the government censors*

Senior Man Trousers

In response to the many discussions about mantitty and its dubious merits as an inducement to buy novels, I hereby submit this disturbing photo. Now this particular specimen of homomammaries is not selling romance novels, but Senior Man Trousers--for the gentleman who forgot to bring extra underwear during his stay at the hotel. What does this have to do with romance novels? Absolutely nothing. I just thought it was hilarious, and wanted to inflict share.

Shoes

Pam asked about the new brand of shoes I found--so I thought I'd post a few pics.

My new favorite brand is Safiya. Inside the shoes it has a sweet little logo of a snail and the words, "My world. The Safiya's world. The young world."

My other favorite brand is Changes and Insects 100. Rather Kafkaesque.

Anyway, here are my most recent Safiya purchases:

Shoes with Scales (yes, it makes a fish if you put your feet together).















Black tap shoe style with crimson appliqued flowers.
































So what do you think? I can take orders...

da da da da DA DA

The Muzak version of the theme song from Chariots of Fire is perpetually playing in the hallways of the hotel I'm living in. At first it just drove me crazy. Now I've decided that they're featuring it especially for me as I sprint to the finish line of my self-imposed writing deadline.

The music will swell, the crowd will roar, and I will click the send button. Victory shall be mine!

Harold M. Abrahams: If I can't win, I won't run!
Sybil Gordon: If you don't run, you can't win.

Scent of a Scholar

From the hotel website:

This exquisite hotel filled with strong scholarly aroma is an ideal site for you to either read books or sit idly.

Strong scholarly aroma? I admit to thinking the smell of books and leather is hot, but just how strong are we talking? Will there be doddering men in black capes muttering over ancient tomes? That could get pretty aromatic. And is my romance writing scholarly enough? Do I smell strong enough? I'll let you know...

Blue Suede Shoes

OK, they're actually shiny patent leather. I just bought these shoes because I wanted to reward myself for getting so much writing done. And because I'm in China, they were only seven dollars. Oh yeah, baby. I heart China.

Hot Blooded (check it and see)

I'm not sure if my fever ever got up to 103, but I've been sick, sick, sick. China finally got to me. More specifically, traveling by bus and train to remote parts of Guizhou province got me. First it was the dreaded "xie duzi"--yes that's Mandarin for the runs. Then it was fever and chills and the worst cold I've ever had. I'm still feeling miserable after eight days but at least I'm back in my apartment where I don't have to scoop water out of a wooden basin to wash myself and endure constant cigarette smoke blown in my face by the men occupying the other bunks in the "hard sleeper" train sections. And I've discovered a wonderful remedy for congestion--heat vinegar to boiling and inhale the vapors. Works like a charm and lasts for twelve hours.

Of course it wasn't all desperate trips to the toilet and air pollution. I saw some stunning scenery, met many wonderful people and ate tons of amazing food. And I wrote constantly. I decided not to bring my laptop, and something about the simplicity of pen and paper, coupled with our mostly rustic accomodations, made me realize that I need to bring my writing back to that elemental level--back to the sheer joy of using my imagination to fuel creativity without over-analyzing my target audience or the confines of my chosen genre. The beauty of traveling is the need to embrace extremes. And in so doing, you free yourself from the tedium of habit and the lull of comfort. I'm not saying I'm happy to be sick, though. Far from it. But I am pleased that I started writing my next full-length novel. It will be a true gothic this time, in every sense except the use of first person narrative. I'll write more about it, and post pictures from the trip, when I'm feeling cooler.

Oh yes, the other good news is that blogger seems to have been unblocked here because I'm suddenly able to access it without using Anonymouse. Yeah!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I've decided all my entries will have song titles, since I was leaning that way already with the Madonna and Zappa references. This is also inspired by the utterly random selection of English songs I found at my first karaoke experience here. I forgot just how surreal private booth karaoke can be in China. The joint was called "Haoliday" a play on "holiday" and the Mandarin word "hao" meaning "good." We walked up a long flight of stairs and into a hallway with garish 1980's geometric carpeted walls and flashing purple neon signs over the booth doors. Girls in tight red dresses and men in tuxes bowed profusely and ushered us into a large private room with its own bathroom and a pyramid of frosty Chinese beer stacked on the low central table. It was me, a cute Chinese English teacher named Grace, and a large group of chain-smoking, beer-swilling, mic-hogging men. I decided to sing songs in Mandarin because the English selection was limited to the usual suspects: My Heart Will Go On, Like A Virgin, The Rose, Jailhouse Rock, with a few unexpected surprises: Welcome to the Jungle, China Girl, and Purple Rain. My mission is to introduce China to Heart, Pat Benatar and Liza Minelli. I'm getting my nightclub act together.

My classes haven't started yet so I've been writing and sightseeing. The revision process is going well. Confessions is so much better now and I've written pitches for two other novellas based on interlinked characters. I want this blog to be about writing mostly. But maybe I'll have one day of the week where I write about China and post pictures. I haven't decided yet, but don't worry, I'll unveil a new blog direction very soon.

Until then, enjoy a glass of nice wine and some Danish triple-cream blue cheese for me. And I'll have oysters barbequed and smothered in garlic, and a coconut with a straw stuck in it, for you.

Red Velvet

This pic was taken while we were gluing the flocked wallpaper to my business cards. The designer showed me five different card treatments, but I immediately knew it had to be the hand. It just says it all. It's ghostly and gothic, hints of an invitation to a Victorian boudoir (she's not wearing gloves--oh my!) and is reminiscent of vintage advertising. There's also something slightly strange about it, and for a girl who likes her Edwards Gorey and her Gogols Bordello, it's perfect.