Rewrite

I keep telling myself that rewriting shouldn't be hard. The words are there after all so all I have to do is look at them critically! I also keep wondering why this is taking me so long - dread, fear, procrastenation?????

I do know that I'm learning though. As I work through this rewrite of A Cornish House I can see things I never saw before - and the bonus is I know how to fix them now. So why is it taking me so long? I think it is too much other stuff in my life at the moment and fear. I do think I really feel I could mess this one up badly because the story has so much potential that I may let it and me down.

I also find I'm working differently now. Currently I print off twenty pages and read through for typos and repetition (to be sure to be sure) and just the general feel of the story. Once that is complete I print off again and read the work aloud. I hate doing this but what a difference it makes. Awkward sentences jump out at me and require fixing. This is very different from my past working methods. I used to do much more work on the screen and work with long pieces of the script. I think I like this method but we'll see.

What I'm not yet doing which is what I fear most is fixing the plot holes and dramtically changing the story. I haven't really dealt with ACH is months so I need to reaquaint myself with my character and remind myself what i wanted to acheive. It's hard sometimes to realize that I have written 94,000 words and may not have aceived what I wanted to or may have to change the whole thing. So after this rewrite I will have 94,000 well written words that don't tell the story I want them too! Help!

This week there have been some great things on blogs. Directly related to what I have been working with this week is here here on Michelle Styles blog. She talks about how it's fine to tell and not show in your first draft and then how to convert it in your second. I particularlly love RUE (Resisit the Urge to Explain). I think I may need that branded on my forehead.

As a follows on from C.S. Harris's post here here which talks about how a writer writes about the body's reactions to danger ( love her words Cardiopulmonary Reality) Steve Malley goes through the way a body reacts to danger - here. It's a great reference.

Finally there is a fantastic debate/discussion on two blogs that is well worth a read on two accounts - one it's content on the relative merits of catagory romance which begins from the male pov as he reviews one he's been challenged to read here and continues on the author's (Julie Cohen) blog here and two as it shows how how brilliantly the blogging world can work for enlightening and thoughtful discussion.

Happy Valentines Day - More Heroes

I had the highest raffic to this blog thanks to the RNA Heroes List. The key names that brought them in were Richard Armitage and Johnny Depp which means that Richard's position on the list might just be higher in the general populous than with the RNA authors....

So I have posted a picture of RA for all the lovely people who popped by yesterday.

Have a wonderful V Day and back tomorrow with some great writing links!

Romantic Novelists' Assosciation List of The Perfect Hero

Below is the text of the list of RNA's List of the Perfect Heroes. I personally might order them a little differently ( 5,1,4,7,10, 2,8,3,6,9) though I totally agree with the criteria and certainly love my 'job' as described so well below! Which order would you put them?

'Johnny Depp and Pierce Brosnan make Romantic Novelists’ hearts throb.

Members of the Romantic Novelists’ Association have voted Johnny Depp as the Number One Perfect Romantic Hero in a poll to mark Valentine’s Day. According to these authors, a romantic hero should be gorgeous, deliciously sexy, intensely masculine and have a commanding presence.

‘We should be qualified to judge,’ one writer commented. ‘After all, we create these heroes on paper every day.’

The top ten male celebrities voted the Perfect Romantic Hero were:

1. Johnny Depp

2. Daniel Craig

3. Sean Bean

4. Richard Armitage

5. Hugh Jackman

6. Colin Firth

7. Alan Rickman

8. Pierce Brosnan

9. George Clooney

10. David Tennant

A second poll, taken by members of the RNA bravely admitting to being ‘over a certain age’, voted for male celebrities over fifty who’ve ‘still got it’. Remarkable for his appearance on both polls, Pierce Brosnan took the crownfor the over fifties by a huge margin.

The top ten Over-Fifty Perfect Romantic Heroes were:

1. Pierce Brosnan

2. Harrison Ford

3. Ranulph Fiennes

4. Bill Nighy

5. Liam Neeson

6. Sam Neill

7. Sean Connery

8. Peter O’Toole

9. Clint Eastwood

10. Omar Sharif'

Dickens Challenge - Explosive Dreams Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The plane began its decent into Dubai airport and I had not had any more sleep. The storm passed after a half hour but with the smell of vomit and excited chattering all around there was no way even a large whiskey would have knocked me out. Plus I couldn’t get the faces of the man and woman who emerged from the loo out of my head. Not a piece of clothing was mussed and her red lipstick was in place. Now many times I have tried to envisage joining the mile-high-club and in fact my husband and I almost did en route to our honeymoon but lost the nerve if not the passion when confronted by the reality of a small box of a space where the man before had missed his aim.

So their perfect composure as they slipped out puzzled me. If they had been banging away during a storm of such ferocity that many overhead lockers had spilled their guts surely at least something would have been astray. I mean why else would a man and a woman be locked in an airplane toilet together if it wasn’t for the supposed sexual high, why the risk of arrest and exposure so to speak? I’m not sure if anyone one else noticed them find their separate seats as the chaos of the storm raged around the plane. The stewardess did check the loo once she was allowed to move about the cabin but that was all. I was the only witness to their joint occupation of the loo.

My stomach clenched as I felt the nose of the plane lower. The lights of Dubai at night twinkled at me briefly as I looked across the aisle. Casting my eyes further along I tried to see the woman’s face but the crisp outline of her dark bob was all I could distinguish. Her facial features other than the flawless lips were a blur and something was compelling me to know what she looked like. I had had a good look at the man who was a stocky rough cut European sort, not English, not French, not Italian but more of a cross of all of the above. There was not a sexy bone in his body I can assure you. She however oozed class – this I could tell from the cut of her and the way she held her small shoulders. They were and unlikely pair but who was I to say. They could be a modern day beauty and the beast.

The clunk of the wheels lowering reminded me that many a plane had crashed during landing and I needed to will the plane safely onto the run way. I had to get home safely so that I could see my little boy and try and repair the damage of the argument as I left with my husband. It was a humdinger and I wasn’t sure where to begin. I spent most our wine filled days with Julia hashing it out and that wasn’t what my trip was supposed to be about however having left with a raging row ringing in my ears I couldn’t leave it behind in Dubai. I, of course, had to carry it with me to Jarkarta and let it contaminate my girls’ trip away to celebrate my soon to be big 4 0. That dire event was three days away.

First one wheels hit the run way and then the other bounced down as the engines slammed in to reverse. We had come in fast instead of the normal gentle approach to Dubai. Half of me wondered why but the quick flash of the cell phone of the woman with the bob cancelled that line of thought. She was chic and impatient. They hadn’t even said it was safe to use phones yet. I felt for mine in my pocket. Would there be a message from Tom. Other than a text to say I had landed safely in Jarkarta and sending my love to Oliver there had been no communication. Did he care I was back? Quite possibly not. Did I care I was back? That was a good question and I didn’t really know the answer.

The woman was texting frantically and I notice the short pink nails. They didn’t seem to fit with the black hair and red lips. Her nails should be long and red.

I leaned out into the aisle as we taxied and looked for the two Indonesian girls. One of them was on texting on her phone too. I admired the model which was the latest new fangled job with camera and music and so on. I had thought about buying one but it seemed and extravagance when I had a great camera and mp3 player already.

My phone beeped. There was a message. My heart leapt, maybe Tom and I did have a chance.

Welcome back to Etisalat. Welcome home we hope you have had a good journey.

Shit. Well at least someone was glad I was home. I starred at the screen willing it to show me another message. A message that said all was forgiven and he did still love me and we could try again.

The plane juttered to a halt and I looked up to see the stocky man jump to his feet. He must have had bad acne in his youth as the face was textured to an extreme. Maybe he had a kind heart because to be honest with a face like that no one would go near him. In fact he could have a career frightening children or haunting nightmares.

“Please remained seated until the airplane has come to a complete stopped and the captain had switched off the seatbelt sign.”

There that tells you for being so keen I thought but he didn’t sit he continued to retrieve his bag from the overhead locker and then sat down. The plane began to move a bit more and then again stopped. I glanced out the window to note that we where no near the terminal and remembered the airport construction. Yippee we would be bussed in to the terminal. It was peak time at Dubai International Airport. Midnight and every form of human life would be swarming through. God, I hate travel which makes me wonder why I do it. Stupidity? Quite possibly marrying the wrong man in the wrong job with wrong goals in life. Clever woman, huh, to marry a man who wanted to see the world and worked in finance. Yet fifteen years ago it seemed a dream come true. What the hell went wrong?

Crime

I don't know how many of you have signed up for the BBC Radio Scotland Write Here, Right Now but this year it is on Crime and last year it was on Romantic Fiction. So one would think that I would have avoided this years but no and I'm so glad I haven't - although I admit to cheating as I am not writing a 1000 words a day at the moment......

So if you haven't signed up do. This weekend's words of wisdom come from writer Paul Johnson and what he has to say ( see the whole thing here) is so pertinent to any writing.


"Write whatever you feel like - with the sole proviso that you write what you feel.

Fiction without a carefully calibrated emotional dimension is duller than a December day in Murmansk. That doesn't mean you need to write melodramatically, giving your characters free rein to emote all over the page. Controlled emotion across a range of characters is the heart of fiction - think Austen, think Flaubert, even think D. H. Lawrence, who did everyday feelings just as well as full-blown passion."

So I had better get writing!!!!

Home

What a whirlwind two weeks.......and so much to catch up on! First I have been given a wonderful award by the fabulous JJ! What an honour. Thanks JJ. Now I may pass the gift along....... Ray-Anne,Rebecca Burgess, Lisa,Flowerpot,Rachel. I could name a few other but I think they have been awarded already.

London seems like a total blur now and I need to crack the whip and hit my revision, post the latest chapter for the Dickens Challenge (only half written - I confess), and work out some more of the plot for the next book....so the fact that the internet here at present is painfully slow may help to focus back on work.

So before I sign off today......books. I finished Lucie Whitehouse's The House at Midnight on the flight leaving Maldives. Bloody gripping with increasing menace.......great read- nail biter. On my flight yesterday I read Ian McKewn's On Chesil Beach. In many ways it was an easy read and the perfect length. I loved many aspects of it but yet........ glad I read it though.

Romantic Novelist Association Award Lunch

Well, finally I am on line. It's strange how I was connected in the Maldives and yet couldn't connect in the New Cavendish Club! Having said that I think anything that I may have written yesterday would have been complete and utter gibberish. Between lack of sleep, jet lag, and far too much wine yesterday did pass in a haze.

Monday was my 3rd RNA award lunch and well it felt like a home coming as opposed to the fear and trembling that gripped me the first time. My day began at Jenny Haddon's house and where I laughed till I nearly cried with her and Anne Ashurst (aka Sara Craven). Once in me finery - such as it was- we set off for the Royal Garden Hotel in Kensington. The first familair face was that of Janet Gover who is the lucky friend that just signed the contract with Little Black Dress. (pictured l-r Liz Baily, Janet Gover and Susie Vereker)

Then I bumped into friends who were up for the Romance Prize - Julie Cohen and Fiona Harper with Kate Hardy (who won!!!) and the lovely Anna Lucia. (l-r Anna Lucia, Kate Hardy, Janet Gover and Julie Cohen)

Events on this scale don't take place without huge effort on many people's part and here are two - Jane Gordon Cummings and Jan Jones. Catherine Jones (aka Kate Lace), the chairwoman, did a fantastic job thanking all those involved.

So the drinks reception allowed me to catch up with fellow Novel Racer while she was chatting with Katie Fforde. We tried to persuade Katie to join but she was too afraid she couldn't keep up!

I glanced at the seeting arrangement and was delighted to see that I was sitting with the lovely blog friend Ray Anne, editor Gillian Green from Ebury, Bex Leith, reader/reviewer Lizzie Roach,Henri Gyland, Jan Sprenger, and the big surprize was a distant relation by marriage the elegant Una Mary Parker. (pictured l-r Pia Tapper-Fenton, Gillian Green and Ray-Anne Lutener)

Trisha Ashley did a wonderful presentation of the romance award which the lovely Kate Hardy won and then Helen Lederer (pictured here with l-r Anne Ashurst, Helen and Evelyn Ryle) had us all in stiches with her chat before presenting the Romantic Novel of the Year Award which went to Freya North for Pillow Talk. Freya's speach was wonderful and brought a tear to my eyes as she dedicated the award to a friend who had died of cancer and she was donating her prize to a cancer charity.

(pictured Lizzie Roach and Freya North)

After a final word by Diane Pearson, the President of the RNA, we emerged for another drink in the reception area where I caught up with the lovely Judy Astley. The crowd moved to the Goat across the road which finally gave a me chance to a decent chat with Julia Williams and moan about not being to get my hands on a copy of her book. In fact I am leaving London very frustrated today as thus far I have not been able to put my paws on Julie Cohen's latest One Night Stand, Julia Williams' Pastures New and Jan Jones' Stage by Stage. I think I will have to do a massive Amazon order that my sil will have to bring out to Dubai with her in March. (picutred below Julia Williams and Kate Hardy)

The pub also brought a chance to catch with with Biddy as she flew in after work to join us and was kind about our obvious intoxicated state.

The evening wound down in a wonderful restaurant in Kensington Church Street with Katie Fforde, Jan Jones and the suprememly kind Nick Robinson of Transworld.

I have to say it was well worth the treck to come. I connected not only with friends but editors again which makes it much easier to approach them later. I think the thing that stays with me most is the friendship generousity of of my fellow writers.

One Last Shot

I'm sitting in Dubai airport trying to stay awake......my flight to London leaves at 3am. I have just downloaded the last of the Maldives photos. If you didn't hate me before this just might put the nails in my coffin!

Farewell to the One & only Reethi Rah

Bliss.......

I feel like lying down on the floor and throwing a tantrum as I don't want to leave paradise but the upside is that I will be with writer friends in London at the Romantic Novelist awards luncheon!

Sand Bank

Yesterday we went snorkeling at a sand bank and to watch the sun set. I can't show you the fabulous fish or coral because those photos were taken with an underwater film camera but I can tell you that we have a fabouls picnic (For Jess - began with skewers of baby mozzarella, tomato and olive plus little wraps of shrimp and lettuce followed by french bread sandwiches of roast beef, turkey or more mozzarella and finished with fruit skewers of grape, honedew, papyia and pineapple - washed down with crisp white wine.)

But even paradise has a phone signal as one of our guides demonstrates. Fancy a game of coconut catch???