Top 20 Reasons the RWA 2014 National Conference Was Awesome!

I feel like I'm in The Lego Movie because everything is awesome. So here are my Top 20 Reasons the RWA Conference Was Awesome. Because ten just wouldn't be enough.

1. My fellow GH nominees, the Dreamweavers. What an amazing, talented group of writers. And so much fun!

2. THE Eloisa James hugged me after I accepted the Golden Heart^® award for unpubbed historical romance authors. What a thrill!

3. Reconnecting with my pals from Avon FanLit, the amazing Courtney Milan and Tessa Dare. I had that dazed, deer-in-the-headlights expression on my face the whole night. But don't Courtney and Tessa look gorgeous?

 

 

 

4. The excitement in the air was palpable. There were clusters of writers everywhere, talking at warp speed, sharing stories, laughs, and margaritas.

 

5. One of my best friends got married the week before the conference so I was totally able to justify the expense of traveling to the U.S. Thanks guys!

 

 

6. Drinks in the bar with new friends @WriteAsRain_, @southerntart,  @JeanettelGrey, and @LauraTrentham. Although the hangover the next day? Not awesome.

7. The Spotlight on @AvonBooks. One of the editors said that maybe some of us in the room would become their authors. I got chills.

 

8. Squealing over the cover of Elle Daniel's debut novel, HE'S NO PRINCE CHARMING. Elle was the sweetest roommate ever. She gave me a sneak peak at the book and it's exuberant, witty, and utterly charming! Also, she gave me a twitter lesson because I needed some serious help.

 

 

9. Attending inspiring workshops. I especially loved "Suffragettes and Alpha Males: Exploring Feminism in Romance" with Tessa Dare, Zoe Archer, Lorelie Brown, Julie Leto and Carrie Lofty. If you weren't able to attend, you should download the audio from RWA.

10. Hanging on the famous San Antonio Riverwalk.

11. Wearing my lucky Golden Heart shoes that I bought in Bolivia. They totally worked! And they were a great conversation starter in the elevators.

12. PJ from The Romance Dish gave me some of her delicious homemade truffles. Check out her "What Happens in San Antonio" RWA conference recap posts.

13. When I called my husband to tell him I won, he was at a Mötley Crüe concert. He was like, "What? I can't hear you. Vince Neil is singing too loud." 

14. Enjoying some special time with my BFF's before the conference. I miss you Nonfiction Vixens!

15. Receiving my first ever email from someone who wanted to know where she could buy my book. That is the most incredible feeling in the world. Would be even better if I could direct her to a link. Hopefully someday!

16. All the gorgeous, glittery dresses at the @RitaGH awards ceremony. Especially Denny Bryce and Ellen Lindseth!

17.  Eloisa's moving tribute to Bertrice Small, winner of the RWA Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. We hope you make it to New York next year, Bertrice!

18. There was a Goodwill within walking distance of the Marriott. I'm a thrift store junkie. I didn't have much time, but I ran in for a few minutes and scored some black leather cowboy/motorcycle boots.

19. Going home and finding that my twenty-one-year old cat was safe and happy. I cherish every moment I have with her because you never know when they get to be that age.

 

20. I can now say I'm an award winning romance author. Thanks, RWA!

 

Hugs!
Lenora

Confessions of a 2014 RWA Golden Heart Finalist

I am loving the RWA National Conference in San Antonio! My fellow Golden Heart nominees and I have been kicking butt and taking names. We all have multiple requests and several of us have already sold. I'm so proud to part of this group of classy, talented ladies!

I've met so many fabulous authors and I've downloaded tons of books already. Some new favorite historical romance authors include: Jennifer McGowan, Erica Monroe, Elizabeth Michels, and my roomie and new friend Elle Daniels.

Yeah, I'm here to sell my book. But I have to confess that I'm also a giggling, star struck fangirl and I've stuttered and fluttered my way through breathless meetings with Eloisa James, Elizabeth Hoyt, Tessa Dare, Cathy Maxwell, and Sarah MacLean, to name a few.

Here are a few pics. I'll blog more later about what the conference meant to me and my top takeaways.

Hugs!

    Me with romantic suspense author Carey Baldwin.

    Me fan-girling out with NYT bestselling author Tessa Dare. She's so lovely!

    The inimitable Eloisa James. My hands were shaking too badly to focus the camera.

    OMG. Elizabeth Hoyt. Love her!

    Fellow Golden Heart nominees Laura Trentham, Charis Calhoon, and Jillian Lark.

Golden Heart Shoes!

I couldn't resist these red sparkly golden heart shoes. Hopefully they'll bring me luck at the national conference of the Romance Writers of America^®

Highlights so far include bar time with favorite authors Tessa Dare and Carey Baldwin (the men from the fertilizer convention happening at the same hotel kept buying us fishbowl-sized drinks), an inspiring talk by the lovely and gracious romantic grand dame Cathy Maxwell, fantastic pitching advice from Jennifer McGowan, Robin Perini, and Liz Bemis-Hittinger. Thanks ladies!

Having a blast!

Castles and Factories

Life is beautiful right now.

My husband and I are moving to Switzerland! Started dreaming about castles and cheese factories right away.

Then, speaking of factories, today I found out that my latest manuscript, Charlene and the Duchess Factory, is a finalist in the Romance Writers of America^®Golden Heart® Contest!  I still remember the vicarious thrill I felt when my good friend the lovely Maire Claremont finaled and then won the 2011 GH. 

And the RITA finalists include so many of my absolute favorite authors: Courtney Milan, Tessa Dare, Elizabeth Hoyt, Nicola Cornick, Sherry Thomas, Sarah MacLean, and Anna Campbell. Exalted company, indeed!

Life is beautiful right now.

Congrats to Tessa Dare and Courtney Milan!

Courtney Milan's "This Wicked Gift" and Tessa Dare's Surrender of a Siren are finalists in the Romance Writers of America's RITA® contest! See all the finalists here.

Winning Ways

I guess I should come out of hibernation to mention that Filigree and Shadow took first place in the San Diego RWA chapter's Spring Into Romance contest.

I don't expect anyone is actually still reading this blog since I've neglected it for so long. I don't have much of an excuse since school's out for summer. Guess I'm still unwinding from finals week. Also I started an internship at an amazing radio show.

Where in the World is The Spymaster's Lady?

The smart bitches alerted me to Claire Gregory's fun contest. Take your spymaster and his titillating treasure trail to an interesting location and provide photographic evidence for the chance to win a signed copy of TSML (Joanna Bourne judges the entries!).

It's really too bad I didn't read about this a day earlier because last night I went to a Vagabond Opera show (they are so amazing--that's them in the pic above) and there was a kissing booth where I could have paid a hottie in a schoolgirl outfit to smooch the spymaster. What an opportunity lost. That will teach me not to skip a day at SBTB.

I'm sure I'll think of something tomorrow. Look for a pic soon.

Best Day Yet

I just sat down and wrote over 6000 words in four hours. I think it's because I've reached the steamy part of the book where the hero, Clive, (I know kind of obvious given my Clive Owen obsession but I can't think of another name right now) starts to appreciate the attractions of Edith, the heroine. It's a long story but he's sort of kidnapped her and installed her in the apartment that his last mistress occupied. His motives are not sexual at first. He wants her to help him summon the spirit of his dead wife. He's obsessed with spiritualism and believes he has finally found a genuine medium so he starts rearranging her life to suit his needs.

I'm reading Judith Ivory's Black Silk right now. She treats the hero's awakening realization of the heroine's unique appeal so perfectly.

This passage occurs 158 pages into the book:

Her mouth pursed. She was glaring at him. Her eyes looked dark and bright against their peculiar little feathering of short lashes. For a moment, these eyes stared over his hand, in open rebellion against attempted mastery, even this small one over a jawbone. She abruptly made a high arch, a display of long, white throat; she took her shin away.

"You are so --" He was going to say “pretty” or “beautiful” or –what? –“Winsome”? Did a man tell a woman she was winsome? This woman was, but it didn’t matter. He suspected that if he told her there were some universally pleasing quality to her looks, she would only deny it outright. And not without grounds. He stared at her, as if to anatomize his own attraction to her. Her eyes were too large for her face. Her nose was narrow, her chin pointed. Her skin was washed out except for its smattering of pale freckles. He found himself staring at her mouth, her lips as plump and pink and soft as a baby’s. She wet them and looked down. He watched the color rise in her cheeks. Her skin was ivory, he decided, not washed out. And her eyes, behind their canopy of thick lashes, were a changeable, mysterious blue. She was plain one moment, pretty the next. He couldn’t figure her out.

“You are devastating,” he said honestly.

I tend to like romances where the hero and heroine are not initially attracted to each other and then the sexual tension heats up with each encounter, but when I started writing Heart of Shadow I imagined Clive finding Edith alluring at first but fighting against that impulse because he thinks she is trying to trick him into believing she is a true spirit medium.

From chapter one (remember this is still in NaNoWriMo rough draft form!):

She had a stillness about her that made him feel awkward. Her heavily fringed dark eyes were too big for a little heart-shaped face with a pointed chin and a prim rosebud of a mouth. Her pale skin glowed like a pearl necklace held up to firelight. She must work hard to achieve that consumptive pallor, the mysterious, otherworldly air.

In her high-necked black silk she appeared painfully thin. Perhaps her look was not studied so much as necessitated by real hunger. He had a sudden urge to rush back outside into the rain and buy a pigeon pie from the nearby pub. He might grasp her by one tiny bird bone wrist and lead her into a dark room somewhere and feed her bites of steaming pastry. She would lick flakes of crust from his fingers with a deft darting tongue. Maybe even take a bit of meat from his lips with her sharp little teeth, her hungry mouth asking for more.

She caught him staring and narrowed her eyes. Someone had asked a question.

“Shall I go?” Denny asked.

“Of course,” muttered Clive, ashamed of the lustful bent of his thoughts. She was just a jaded charlatan like all the rest. Trained to lure men into parting with money. Her slenderness and pallor were obviously calculated to appeal to men's protective impulses. She knew her trade. He’d fallen straight into her pretty snare of twigs and temptation.


So I may have to rewrite that scene because now, in chapter six, I have Clive realizing for the first time that Edith is attractive.

How clever of Pruett to arrange Miss Crowe's hair like that, as if one judicious tug would send the whole mass of rich chocolate curls tumbling down past her bum. And that black velvet ribbon about her neck. Camilla had always worn flashing opals and heavy gold. The simple, girlish ribbon was pure genius, making him think about the pressure of it around her neck and the pulse that beat beneath it. Had it merely been the armor of her severe black dresses that made her look meager and unappealing? Now her pointy little chin above the black velvet ribbon lent her an air of provocative stubbornness.

Clive did his best to project avuncular warmth and solicitude, but the charade proved difficult to sustain as the evening wore on and brandy softened the edge of his resolve. He sank down beside her on the settee and placed a rare volume of D.D. Hume's collected works in her lap. She ran a slender finger over the gilt letters embossed in the red leather cover.

“I’m afraid you have overestimated my power,” she said softly. "I cannot control it at will like your Mr. Hume." She opened the book reverently.

He gazed at her solemn little face, those huge eyes haunted by visions of failure. His fingers reached out before he could stop them and captured one end of the velvet ribbon that fell down her back. She didn’t seem to notice. He stroked its softness between his thumb and forefinger while he watched her read.

That's what happens when you let your writing come out in an unexpurgated nanorimo rush. Suddenly, in chapter six, your characters start doing things you hadn't planned for. I'm not going to get too worked up about it. I have the whole month of December to edit my book because I don't have grad classes during that time.

In your WIP, is your hero immediately attracted to your heroine or does it take time for him to see her beauty?

p.s. Congrats to Tessa D. for her double contest wins and to India Carolina for her first place and manuscript request in the Golden Gateway single title category!!

Denial

Until yesterday I was in denial about how much writing I lost when my one-year-old macbook's hard drive crashed. I'd been taking a lot of notes by hand and I thought they would be sufficient to recreate what I had finished. Yesterday I put my mending elbow to the test and typed for an hour. Then it hit me. I lost fifty pages of my WIP as well as all the research I had carefully bookmarked and excerpted. And some of the scenes I wrote were not in my notebook at all. So now I'm back to square one. I'm trying to get the first 35 pages back in shape to enter the Emily contest. We all have setbacks. I'm trying not to let the extreme irony of this one get me down. Bike crash and hard drive crash in the space of two days. My muse is testing me. The exasperating hussy.

Lessons learned:

Back up! Lapse not into complacency, lest ye lose everything.

Accept not that third glass of wine from the cute tattooed bartender before singing more Liza Minnelli, lest ye be unfit to ride home.

Are you entering the Emily? Are you signing up for the Golden Heart? Are you asking yourself whether you can possibly finish your WIP by December 3rd? I know I am.

September Challenge--Day Two

I wrote a prologue and first chapter yesterday. They included murder, illegal boxing, and a seance. I wanted to start with a bang.

Historical Tidbit:

In the illegal boxing matches held in gambling dens in mid-Victorian England, the Prize Ring Rules stated:

That no person is to hit his Adversary when he is down, or seize him by the ham, the breeches, or any part below the waist. A man on his knees is to be reckoned down.

So that raises the question, what exactly is "the ham"?

Maybe tomorrow I'll post an excerpt. I'm hoping that public exposure will keep me honest.

Meljean Brook, author of dark and brilliant paranormals for Berkley, suggested I give myself a reward to look forward to. I've got that covered. My birthday is in the end of September, and the BF promised to take me away for a weekend on the Oregon coast. Writer Lynda Rucker has been extolling the virtues of the Sylvia Beach Hotel to me for years. Known as the definitive "hotel for book lovers," it has literary-themed rooms that range from the Colette to the Alice Walker. We'll be staying in the Edgar Allan Poe room, of course.

In other news, my friend and CP, Kerry Blaisdell, took first AND third in the inaugural Golden Claddagh contest. She also finaled in the Golden Gateway contest (along with Tessa, Courtney Milan, and India Carolina). Congratulations!!


TODAY'S GOAL:

Fill in the missing historical details in Chapter One. Start Chapter Two.

What are your goals for September?

The winner is...

...SHERRY THOMAS!

You were randomly selected by my cat (shown here selecting a fine Porter):

Email me at lenora AT lenorabell.com, and I will put your prize in the mail.

Check out Sherry's website, ogle the gorgeous cover of her upcoming novel, Private Arrangements, and read what Mary Balogh and Jane Feather have to say about this "irresistible new voice" in romance.

Thanks for making my first contest fun, everyone!

Good luck with your RWA national preparations.

Deadline Extended

We're unpacking the Uhaul and rearranging our basement so I'm extending the contest deadline to 7/7 at midnight. I'll announce a winner on Sunday morning.

Keep those entries coming!

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.