12/6/11
The Writer of My Discontent by Grace Burrowes
One shouldn’t feel wobbly in mid-life. Where I procured this piece of Holy Writ, I’m not sure, but I have engraved it in stone. In mid-life, at least professionally, you can coast a bit. You’re not yet an old fart, you’re the approachable expert to whom all the tadpoles and sophomores can come to for sage advice…. Right? Read the rest of this entry »
11/24/11
Being Grateful on the Other Days by Grace Burrowes
I love Thanksgiving—it’s my favorite holiday. It’s about abundance and homecoming, love and ties that bind—also the turkey that smells divine coming out of the oven. There’s relatively little of the commercial about it, and winter hasn’t yet gotten a stranglehold on all our travels plans. Read the rest of this entry »
11/9/11
Highly Effective Grace by Grace Burrowes
My mom (doing business as Santa Claus) got me a manual typewriter when I was eight years old, and thus began a romance between me and writing. I loved the sound of the rat-tat-tat of the keys when the words were coming. I felt like such a writer making that sound. I loved seeing the words fill up the page, I loved the ding of the carriage return when I’d composed another line of text. Read the rest of this entry »
11/2/11
A Play List for “The Virtuoso” by Grace Burrowes
Once up on a time I wrote a story about an accomplished pianist whose ability to play is taken from him, titled, “The Virtuoso.” I did this from the perspective of somebody who once made her living by playing piano, mostly by accompanying ballet classes. I also hold a Bachelor of Music in music history, which was a big help writing this story. When Lord Valentine was acquiring his skill at the keyboard, the entire repertoire of Mozart, Haydn, Handel, CPE Bach, and some J.S. Bach would have been available to him. Over in Vienna, Beethoven would have written all but his ninth symphony, and pianist and composer Muzio Clementi would have been touring to packed houses.
So what did I listen to when I wrote “The Virtuoso?”
Unless you count the contented snoring of my bull mastiff, I listened to silence.
In hindsight, I think I would have been happier had I pursued a college degree in composition rather than musicology, because even more than I liked to create music, I liked to listen to it being created. When I listen to music, my ear is not passive. I take apart what I’m hearing the way an art historian might assess a painting, even the mass produced art hanging in a hotel room.
You hear a string quartet, I hear a cello getting too bossy and a viola hiding under the second violin. I hear magnificent close harmony, or a bass line going muddy as the tempo picks up. In other words, I listen analytically.
I cannot turn this off any more than I can turn off the senses of taste and touch. It’s work for me to listen to music, just as it’s work for me to write. I enjoy both—enjoy them tremendously—but both take focus and effort.
So, no, I do not listen to music when I write. That would be like trying to dance and write at the same time—nigh impossible for me. But—and you knew there would be a but—when I was writing “Lady Sophie’s Christmas Wish,” time was of the essence, and a Christmas feel for the book was also of the essence. To help me get a sense of Christmas into the book, I listened to Handel’s “Messiah” (the Christmas portion) almost incessantly when I wasn’t writing. I hummed it, I sang it, I whistled it—and happily “lost” the CD once the book was written.
The neat thing about that work is that even in the Regency period, it was popular Christmas music. Hearing the oratorio over and over, knowing my Regency characters would have been thoroughly familiar with it, helped the story flow more easily.
If YOU had written “The Virtuoso,” (excerpt here) what might you have listened to (beside my snoring bull mastiff)?
10/31/11
Writing Is LIke Laundry (… It’s Never Done) by Mia Marlowe
WRITING IS LIKE LAUNDRY…IT’S NEVER REALLY DONE…. By Mia Marlowe
GRACE: Welcome our guest blogger today, Mia Marlowe. Mia writes historical romance for Kensington and Sourcebooks. A classically trained soprano, she describes her stories as a cross between Grand Opera and Gilbert & Sulllivan…with sex! Mia is visiting us while she celebrates the recent releases of her e-novellas, “A Duke for All Seasons,” and “My Lady Below Stairs.” (And for the record, I have no pool, no cabana, and no cabana boys.)
MIA: Thank you for having me here, Grace. I thought your readers would enjoy pulling back the curtain and peeking into the life of a full-time writer. We do not sit by the pool with a feather boa artfully draped around our necks while sipping adult beverages, eating bon-bons and ogling Raoul the cabana boy. (Of course, I can’t speak for Grace. Perhaps she does have a cabana boy!) You’re more apt to find me in jeans and a sweatshirt with a dog crammed next to me in my recliner while I peck away on my laptop.
Writing is a job like any other. We have deadlines and unless we want to seriously stress ourselves out, we have to set schedules in order to meet our obligations. I map out how many pages I need to complete per week, pad the estimate to allow for life to intervene, and then put in 9-5 days (or longer) to fulfill my goals. In addition to our current Work-in- Progress, writers are likely to be simultaneously making revisions to upcoming releases and final passes through galleys. I revise to the last second and the galley is our last chance to get it right! Perhaps you can see why I compare writing with doing laundry.
10/12/11
10/12/11
10/12/11
10/12/11
10/12/11
I have a writing buddy who is not yet published in full length fiction, but Holy Ned, she’s a lot of other things: Wife, mom, daughter, financial services professional, poet, federal employee, sister, journalist, and much more. She’s a busy person, but she’s also a complicated, evolving person. I enjoy her company tremendously, and her imagination would be the envy of any writer.
And oh, yes, she also writes quite well.
But she struggles with many writing decisions. Read the rest of this entry »
