Leap, And The Net Shall Appear (or, “I’m Writing Again!”)

Late 18th Century Trapese Artists

My first finished novel became a finalist for a Golden Heart Award from the Romance Writers of America and was published in 2001 by Kensington Books as part of its Zebra Regency Romance line.  Four years and six more novels later, when Kensington stopped publishing Zebra Regencies, I was invited to continue writing for Kensington, but since my home life was busily falling apart, I elected to stop writing altogether. It’s difficult to write about love when the person you love stops wearing his wedding ring.

Needing a creative outlet, I began to paint.  I created and sold over 350 large-scale abstract expressionist paintings.  I was discovered by a prestigious art gallery with showrooms in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Dubai, San Francisco, Orlando, and London. The gallery had a deal with a large and well-known cruise line to sell art onboard, and they wanted all of the paintings I could produce.

It was a $700,000 a year deal.  To say I was over the moon was an understatement.  I was somewhere outside of this galaxy.  Maybe even outside of this universe.

And then, the Great Recession hit.

Suddenly, no one was buying art.  The gallery lost its deal with the cruise line. Then, the gallery closed, taking nine of my paintings with it.  So, I built my own art gallery online (I enjoy creating websites, including this one).  Attempting to make a go of that during the financial crisis, plus a move, a divorce, a courtship, a second marriage, several family health crises, and the raising of two young daughters all occupied the balance of the next few years.

And then, in 2012, a writer friend of mine told me she’d indie-published her backlist books on Kindle and Nook, and she was making much more money on those books as an indie than she did when she was traditionally published by a big New York publishing house. Why didn’t I give it a go? she asked.

What did I have to lose?  My books were all long out-of-print and just sitting there, doing nothing.

So, I asked my old publisher for my publishing rights back, and I got to work creating new covers.  Now, I’m an artist, so creating new covers wasn’t difficult. But I’ll admit that I regarded it as more a labor of love than a necessity, since I suspected that the old saw about people judging books by their covers was mostly hyperbole.

Yowza, was I wrong!

Those covers were good, and they sold a ton of books.  To my delight, my indie-published ebooks really took off, ultimately reaching #1 on Amazon’s Top 100 Regency Bestsellers list and #4 on the Historical list (as well as #150 on Amazon’s main bestseller list!).  In a year, they’d earned me eleven times as much as they ever earned during the whole time they’d been print-published by my old publisher. I started a new novel–it felt so good to be writing again!–and things were going great.

Until Amazon changed my covers.

A few months into my Great Indie Publishing Adventure, the ‘Zon, inexplicably, switched out the covers I’d made, replacing them with the old ones (which were mostly terrible).  And because I was busy paying attention to other things, I didn’t notice the switch for two months.  It was almost four more months before I could convince Amazon to put the new covers back on.  But by that time it was too late.  Sales had halved each month for six months.  And by the time Amazon finally did put my new the covers I’d made back on my books, sales had evaporated.  I went from being able to buy a new car with one month’s earnings to barely being able to afford groceries.

I’d been writing a new novel, the first of a new series, and I thought that I could probably re-launch my indie career with it and its sequels, but I couldn’t be sure, and with two young daughters to care for, I needed to be Absolutely Certain we could pay the bills. So I found a teaching job for the coming year.

Annnd…guess what?  Teachers don’t have time to write or to promote their just-launched novels.  At least, this one didn’t.  I taught art and drama that year, a job which required 11 hour days, if I wanted to do it right–and I did. Book sales sank even farther into the loo and stayed there.

Fast forward to 2015.  For many reasons, a fresh start was in order.  So, with my children and husband, I fulfilled a dream I’d had for years, moving from Florida to the Pacific Northwest, where we now live on the edge of the Wild, in the foothills of the beautiful Cascade mountains.

But the next 5 years would be rough.

I went through the deaths of four people I loved (two sudden and two lingering, and I’m not sure which is worse), plus serious illnesses for my husband and daughter (which they both recovered from, thank goodness!).  During those years, writing was impossible.

But the currents of life have brought me back peace and happiness again, and I’m writing.  Loads and loads of writing.  I’ll be releasing new books galore a little later this year.  And I couldn’t be happier.

Sometimes when you leap, the net doesn’t appear, but I’ve always been a leaper anyway.  How about you?

Scrumptious Chocolate Cake

A few posts ago, I promised you my chocolate cake recipe (or “receipt,” as it was known in Great Britain in Jane Austen’s time).  I’ve had this recipe for years, as you can tell by the condition of the recipe I tore from a magazine umpteen years ago.  This cake is simply scrumptious, and I’ve made it dozens of times.

I hope my British friends won’t balk at the mention of “Hershey’s.”  It seems many Brits regard American Hershey bars as something less than true chocolate, and I have to say that I agree.  I love chocolate, but I don’t like Hershey bars.  They seemed better when I was a youngster, but nowadays I think the makers have cut too many corners.  No matter; the company’s cocoa remains first rate, and you can use it or any other for this recipe successfully.

I like this cake served with a nice, tall glass of cold milk.  Silk brand is my favorite (vanilla flavor–yum!), as I’ve been a vegetarian for nearly 20 years.  The cake is also great with tea.  Earl Grey is a spectacular pairing, with its hints of bergamot, or orange blending nicely with the chocolate.

Here’s the recipe.

Hershey’s “Perfectly Chocolate” Chocolate Cake

2 cups (473 ml) of plain, white, granulated sugar
1 3/4 cups (414 ml)  of all-purpose flour
3/4 cup (177) of cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoon (7.5 ml)  of baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoon (7.5 ml) of baking soda
1 teaspoon (5 ml) of salt
2 eggs
1 cup (236 ml) of milk or soy milk (I like Silk brand.)
1/2 cup (118 ml) of vegetable oil
2 teaspoons (10 ml)of vanilla extract
1 cup  (236 ml) of boiling water

Heat oven to 350 degrees F (176 C).
Grease and flour two 9″ (23 cm) baking pans.
Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl.
Add eggs, milk, oil, and vanilla extract.
Beat the mixture on medium speed for 2 minutes.  Do not over-beat.
Stir in boiling water.  Do not beat in.  Batter will be quite watery.  This is normal.
Pour batter into pans and bake for 30-35 minutes.
Cool 10 minutes.
Remove cake from pans and cool completely.

Hershey’s “Perfectly Chocolate” Chocolate Frosting

1 stick (118 ml) butter or margarine or 1/4 cup (59 ml) + 2 tablespoons (30 ml) of olive oil.
2/3 cup (157 ml) of cocoa powder
3 cups (709 ml) of powdered confectioner’s sugar
1/3 cup (79 ml) of milk
1 teaspoon (5 ml) of vanilla extract

Melt the butter, margarine, or oil.
Stir in the cocoa powder.
Beat at medium speed, adding sugar and milk, alternating, as you go.
Add vanilla and beat in.
Add more milk and beat, if needed to bring frosting to spreading consistency.

 

Regencyisms

Regencyisms

Ah the things a Regency romance novelist’s children say!  

I was making a snack for them when it happened the first time.  Saltines with tuna salad and a sliver of cheese, which I’d popped into the microwave for a few seconds in order to render the cheese all melty and gooey–except that I’d not put them in for 20 seconds but for 200!  They were past gooey and closer to molten.

“Oh la!” my eldest child cried upon discovering my mistake.  She’d said it without thinking about it.  When I explained that oh la isn’t a contemporary interjection these days, we had a lovely chuckle over it, and the term “Regencyism” was born.

Later, I was baking.  “Oh la, mama!” she cried. “I believe you have burnt the cookies!”  She was wearing an impish grin, completely aware this time that “Oh la!” wasn’t something any modern lady would say, much less a seven-year-old.  She’d thrown down a gauntlet, and her little sister, just four, gleefully picked it up.  “Oh LA!” they both exclaimed through their giggles every few minutes for the rest of the day.

But other “Regencyisms,” as we’ve continued to call them, have crept into our family lexicon unnoticed–not surprising really, as I’ve been writing Regency romances since before my children were born, and they can quote much of the dialogue from both Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice.  These Regencyisms have become so normal a part of our lives that we usually don’t notice using them.  Every once in a while one will occur to me, and I’ll say something like, “You know, most people say, ‘engaged,’ not ‘betrothed.'” Or some such.  To which the reply is always a shocked, “Really!? That’s a Regencyism?”

Every one of the Regency-era words and phrases in the graphic above are words my children and I have used un-ironically over the years–a list that was surprisingly difficult to recall.  A few moments ago, I asked my child Julie Rain, “Can you think of any other Regencyisms we’ve adopted in our everyday speech?” 

She thought for a moment before answering, “I have not a clue,” then laughed and pointed out that “I have not a ____” is itself a Regency-esque construction.  

My children have had a lot of fun with Regency-speak over the years.  A couple of weeks ago, Julie Rain shared with me the following delight.  It’s a parodic translation (displayed in red, below) of a portion of a modern-day song, Hotline Bling, by Drake (displayed in black, below). The original has been simplified a little for clarity’s sake:

Hotline Bling

 … or …

The Post’s Arrival

You used to call me on my cell phone
Late night when you need my love.

You used to write me, pen and parchment
in the eve, when you mourn my affections.

And I know when that hotline bling,
That can only mean one thing

Post is what the servant brings.
It could only be one thing.

Ever since I left the city,
You got a reputation for yourself now
Everybody knows and I feel left out

After I departed London, you
Garnered quite the reputation I hear.
I find myself alone in hearing last, dear.

Girl you got me down, you got me stressed out.

I find myself dismayed, waiting just to hear.

‘Cause ever since I left the city,
you started wearing less and goin’ out more.

After I departed London
you started wearing frocks that do reveal more.

Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor.

Rumors of syllabub, that sound like lore.

Hangin’ with some girls I’ve never seen before.

Your company, companions unacquainted with myself.

Fun, eh? 🙂

Julie wants to know what song would you like her to “translate” next!  Click on “Leave a comment,” below. 

About the Elephant …

My first Christmas-themed novella, ONCE UPON A CHRISTMAS was a labor of love.  It’s a rather whimsical story that includes … well, read on and you’ll find out.  🙂

In 1999, my first novel, THE BLUE DEVIL, was a finalist for a Golden Heart award from the Romance Writers of America.  An editor from Kensington Books was one of the final-round judges, and she purchased the book for Kensington’s Zebra Regency line.  

Amy asked for a very detailed, 20 page synopsis before she purchased my second book, THE BLUE STOCKING (working title).  Amy wrote the cover blurb and came up with a new title, MISS GRANTHAM’S ONE TRUE SIN (a vast improvement, I know!).  Other than that, Amy was pretty hands-off, and I loved her for that at the time (though now I know I really needed a heavier editorial hand).  Then she had the gall to leave Kensington to go off and—I don’t know, live her life, I guess?—and I was an orphan.  Stuck with a brand-new editor, Hilary-something.  Someone who might not love my work as much as I did. 

The New Editor is Not Pleased

Naively, I didn’t do my homework on Ms. Something before submitting my next book proposal, and so I submitted a synopsis that weighed in at 23 pages to an editor who’d declared publicly that anything over 1 pages for a synopsis was a waste of her time.   

She called me.   She’d taken a look at the synopsis, and she didn’t like it.  In fact, she hated it—and I was rather peeved.

Rapid-fire, I offered several other ideas, and Hilary shot them all down.  She didn’t mind the widowed-with-children, impoverished lord I’d invented nor the runaway heiress, but she seemed to be going for a funny, witty, spritely story, not the serious, contemplative, poignant piece I had in mind.  I couldn’t sway her.  Nothing was clicking.  She wanted a funny story, and that was that.

Frustrated, I finally suggested (with what I thought was expertly hidden sarcasm) that I could have my heroine show up at my hero’s country estate with a baby elephant in tow.  Would that be funny enough, did she think?

Surprise!

I don’t know what I was expecting when I threw out the ridiculous idea of writing a baby elephant into a Regency Christmas story, but it wasn’t this:

“Perfect!” Hilary Something.  “Write it.”

There followed, as dearest Hilary would described it to me later, a “funny little moment,” a lengthy pause during which I contemplated what I’d just gotten myself into.  At the same time, Hilary was (I imagine) attempting to hold down a hoot of laughter.  She’d allowed me to back myself into a corner.  There was no way out without admitting I’d been a brat.

“Okay,” I said.  

And now I had to write a baby-elephant-Regency-England-Christmas-runaway-heiress-and-two-children story.  Hoo-boy!  There was no way this was going to be a poignant, serious story.  Nope.  I was forced to bring on the whimsy.

The Editor Didn’t Really Eat Small Children for Breakfast

Once Upon a Christmas turned out to be a personal favorite story.  My readers liked it, too.  And “Hilary Something” became just “Hilary.”  I came to love her dearly, and my time working with her was regrettably short.  If anyone knows what became of Hilary Sares, please let me know, because I’ve tried to contact her with no success.  (Hilary, if you ever read this, I’m sorry, and thank you, you wonderful, beautiful, canny soul!)

What I Learned

And that’s how the elephant came to be, and how I learned a few valuable lessons:

Do your research.

Editors are people.

Improbable stories can be a whole heck of a lot of fun to read–and write.

Keeping my mouth shut doesn’t always lead to the best outcome.