Biggest Blog in History

Kinda amusing to hear BBC newscasters trying to say 'blog' like it's a normal word. Anyway, this is some living history experiment to create a snapshot of daily life for future generations to boggle over. I dunno if it's just a UK thing--the results are being stored in the British Library--but toddle over here and have a look if you're interested. The set day is Tuesday, 17th October.

Come Tuesday, be prepared for a blog detailing the absolute minutiae of my life. You know you want to read it.

Losing IQ points.

I could feel myself getting happily ditzier as the bleach soaked in. Ahhh, being blonde again!

It was actually curled when I left the salon. But, my hair being as stubborn as it is, by the time I got home (about a seven minute walk) it was as you see it now. Well, c'est la vie. Think of the maintenance if it was curly! I might have to even, you know, brush it.

And, I got brownie points because there was no purple in it this time. I don't think Faye believes I'm actually scared of her--but hey, this woman has more power than the president of the US. After all, he has no say in how bad my hair looks.

My gorgeous boy

Since I've just put up a couple of pictures of his sister, I feel it only fair to dazzle you all with how beautiful my baby boy is turning out. Look at those eyes! Look at that fur! Listen to the never-ending mewing for food! Oh, you can't. But even that's kind of cute. His miaows are all squeaky, and he chirrups when you talk to him.

Yes, I'm besotted with my Spikealike.

Cat gets a facelift

...has got a new look! Scoot on over and tell me what you think. Pretty, n'est pas?

Moreover, I'm about to launch my big fat and beautiful new newsletter. To celebrate, I'm offering a free download of any one of my books to one lucky subscriber, picked at random. So, what are you waiting for? Go and subscribe!

Working hard, or hardly working?

She's a rotten typist.

Back from Cornwall, which was lovely as always. Have eaten nothing but pasties and chips and gigantic portions of fish all week, washed down with the local ale and cheese, hilariously called Cornish Yarg. Yarg, matey!

I'd post a picture to prove where I was, but I left my camera here, so you'll have to wait until I get the disposable film processed.

Meanwhile, I've finished the first draft of Duty and the Beast, which will be heading off to my lovely editor as soon as I've corrected the typos Sugar helpfully added for me (so she can't type, but she's great at plot twists). I'll soon be starting work on my Christmas story for Samhain, and then the next Sundown story, Unholy Trinity. On the review front, the word on Naked Eyes is good, good, good, while Almost Human has had a four-star review from Romantic Times.

Look out for my spanking new newsletter coming in the next couple of days, available in glorious Technicolour HTML on my website/s, or delivered straight to your inbox if you so desire. Just sign up for the newsletter here, and I'll do the rest! This month's issue features an interview with the fabulous Amelia Elias, more snippets of the news I know you've been desperate for, book reviews and a whole bunch of other fun crap with which to amuse yourself.

Done!

Finished Duty and the Beast, yay yay yay!

I mean, it hasn't even been spellchecked, let alone edited (I have the feeling there's waaay too much plot), but it's done, last word written, and I actually really like the ending. So, yay me!

I feel justified in going off to Newmarket tomorrow and spending all my ill-gotten (read: given to me by my nannan) gains.

Talk to you when I've made a killing at the races. Or when I've come back from Cornwall. Depends on how much I have to drink tomorrow.

Holdin' out for a hero

Some time ago, I blogged about writing patterns, and how we tend to write stories with common elements. Having watched a bit of Daisy Thingummy's Reader, I Married Him on TV, I've been wondering if patterns don't just apply to one writer, but to the whole genre of romance. You know, those archetypes that are supposed to be typified by the Star Wars characters? Since a) I never took the Media Studies class where this was explained and b) I never watched Star Wars (so sue me. Watch Firefly, it's way better), I'm a little shaky on them, but it's along the lines of Hero, Mentor, Ally, etc. You know the score. If you've ever read a romance, you can probably identify the character types in it.

Anyway. Apparently the next episode of Reader... is about heroes (it's already played, but I haven't seen it yet, stupid programming clashes, wait until the repeat on Sunday) and what elements can be found in them. But my spies tell me that dear Daisy focuses mostly on Misters Darcy and Rochester, Heathcliff and Rhett Butler (and only the film version of Rhett, anyway). What do these have in common? Well, the youungest of them is Rhett, who was published seventy years ago. Pride and Prejudice, I think was written in the 1790s. They're not what you might call the most modern of heroes.

And yet they're enduring. Why? Why do romantic novelists still continue to write haughty millionaires, or brooding liars, or snarling beasts, or charming snakes? What's attractive about any of those? I'll confess to not having read Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights (I watched about twenty minutes of a film of WH and loathed every gloomy second of it), but I'm familiar with P&P and GWTW. Read it about four times a year when I was a teenager.

If a man said you were 'not handsome enough to tempt [him]' and listed the reasons why you weren't good enough for him, would you give him the time of day? Well, no, and you'd be right not to. As was Lizzie in P&P--she continued to dislike Darcy until he both explained and redeemed himself. I can't imagine that Christmas Dinner would be all that much fun in the Bennet household--Mrs B chattering on incessantly, Lydia flaunting her idiocy at every second, Darcy suffering it all in silence and trying to be civil to, or ignore, Wickham. In fact, I'd imagine he'd stick to Bingham and Jane and Lizzie and try to block out the rest. Ahhh, domestic harmony. But anyway, Darcy did prove to be a more worthy man, warm and caring towards his sister, an entertaining host to Lizzie's aunt and uncle, and doggedly rescuing Lizzie's most silly sister, when really she didn't deserve it. So Lizzie realises, as we do, that Darcy's worthy of her admiration, friendship, and love.

Rhett's an entirely different animal. Charming, outgoing, adventurous and not above a little lawlessness, he's the complete opposite of Darcy. He doesn't win Scarlett's affection by sticking to protocol, and neither does he try to redeem himself for her. In fact, the harder Rhett tries to redeem himself, the less interested Scarlett is in him. It's only when he sticks two fingers up at her that she remembers why she liked him in the first place. Rhett's a bad boy--and if you stuck him down in the middle of P&P, he'd have entertained Mr and Mrs B, charmed the sisters to within an inch of their lives, and beaten Wickham to within an inch of his. He'd also have laughed until he cried at Darcy's stiff upper lip.

That's why I like Rhett so much more than Darcy...but why has Darcy remained the more enduring hero template? Why are romances full of misunderstandings, misrepresentations, haughty men and proud women? Why doesn't anyone just say what they feel, like Rhett? Is it because of the unhappy ending in GWTW? Well, I don't think so. What's the last thing Scarlett says? "Tomorrow is another day." Now she's finally realised she doesn't want silly Ashley, she wants Rhett--and she sees that all this time, Rhett's been there for her. Who cheered her up when she discovered Ashley was marrying Melly? Who danced with her at the fund-raising ball? Who took care of Melly and rescued them from Atlanta? Who married her when she was poor and miserable--and gave her everything she wanted? Rhett loves her. He never gives up on her. He sees her silliness, her immaturity, her selfishness--but he also sees her strength, her determination, her passion, and he loves all those qualities the same.

It's not over between Rhett and Scarlett when GWTW ends. He's mad with her, and she's upset with him; but she's not the sort of girl to sit down and cry when she loses what she wants, and he's not the sort of man to give up when someone says 'no'.

Just like Darcy wasn't the sort of man to give up on Lizzie when she shot him down in flames. He was an ass, and she called him on it. Just like Scarlett tells Rhett about all his faults. Repeatedly. So Darcy, chagrined, displays his dependability and loyalty to Lizzie by going after silly Lydia. Rhett, for all his catting about, also comes through for Scarlett when she needs him, finding the means to rescue not only her from the wreck of Atlanta, but her very fragile friend who's just given birth. Believing Lizzie can't stand him, Darcy still never gives up his feelings for her--and neither does Rhett.

I'd call that a pattern, wouldn't you? Maybe a gunrunner and a haughty aristocrat don't have much relevancy in modern romance--but the way they behave towards their heroines does. So we continue to read and write about loveable rogues and arrogant millionaires. Just flicking through my mental Rolodex, I can tell you that I've written a couple of Darcys (Tadgh in Baby Sham Faery Love for one, Dark in Almost Human for another), and plenty of Rhetts (most notably Ceyx in Playing with Matches, and Striker in Almost Human). From that, you can probably infer that I prefer the Rhetts of this world--or maybe, out of this world...

Who can tell me other Rhetts and Darcys in modern fiction? Which do you prefer?

Inspirations

There's a character in Terry Pratchett's Wyrd sisters who is so struck by inspiration that he tries to invent a helmet to stop the ideas flooding into his head. Sometimes I'd like one of those. Sometimes not.

I was having a very lucid dream last night, but damned if I can remember much of it. There were marks, the marks of some cult, and a thing that read them and told me about secrets in my past, and someone evil who was out to exploit me for these marks. Weird. But, you know what? It sounds like a story to me.

What Do You Mean, I'm Too Tall For This Skirt?

I LOVE this video. I LOVE this song. I LOVE Neil Finn. I'd love YouTube if they'd let me post the frickin' thing to my blog, but as usual, somthing somewhere isn't working, so you'll just have to follow the link. ("We are fetching your blog information." No, you're not, you've been saying that for twenty minutes. It doesn't take that long, even with my modem).

Look out for the wedding cake at the end. Isn't that just adorable? Also, listen for the chord in the chorus--not the first time around, he makes you wait--where he sings "Somehow I will still believe her." It's THE most gorgeous thing I've ever heard. Play on... that strain again, it had a dying fall.

Reader, I married him.

Article in today's News Review by Daisy Goodwin on her 'heroine addiction', tying in with her new series, Reader, I married him (BBC4, 9pm tomorrow if you're interested), about romantic fiction. A lot of romance writers I know are on tenterhooks waiting to see how cruel or kind she is in the series. If the article is anything to go by, I don't think they have anything to worry about.

There are, of course, always a few people who pick on a small point and wail about it until someone takes notice, mostly I think because they like the sound of their own voice. In this case, I expect it will be the line "romantic fiction is quite rightly written to a formula."** But I don't care about them, and I don't expect they give a damn about me either.

Like most women who read romantic fiction, I am only too painfully aware that fiction is precisely what it is, but I can carry my disbelief alongside my innermost conviction that living happily ever after is not just for fairytales...Women need the grown-up fairy stories of romantic fiction in order to make the random cruelty of everyday life bearable. And before men sneer at women who read romances, they should ask exactly why they need to read a book about the siege of Stalingrad or the SAS. Do they perhaps find facts less threatening than stories that deal with emotion?

Hah! Well said.

Some bits of the article are a little confusing--at the end she says if she had a son she'd make him read romance novels so he'd better understand women, and then in the same paragraph says she's glad men don't read those books, because now our secrets are safe. What? That doesn't really make sense.

On another note, today is my half-birthday. That is, exactly six months today it will be my actual birthday. Time was, I'd get presents and a card--yes yes, I know, spoilt much? I'd say I was canny. My brother got a half-birthday, so of course I made sure I did. Of course, he got his because his birthday is Christmas Day, and he often lost out on celebrations and presents (FYI, if you know anyone with a birthday on that day, don't give then a joint present. I don't care whether you're spending the same amount as you would on two. They want something to unwrap. However old they are).

Of course, now I's a grown-up, I don't get a half-birthday any more. But there is an apple-pie in the oven waiting for me. I had to make it, but whaddya gonna do?


**Well, come on. Man plus woman (or man plus man, whatever floats your boat) times conflict plus black moment divided by resolution equals happy ending. Whine all you like, it is a formula. You try writing a category romance without one, and see how many rejection letters you get.

Zucchero, il modello

Okay, that's probably not the right Italian, but I can't find my dictionary. Richard and I are learning Italian, you see. I did some at school, but it was ten years ago and I hardly remember any. See? School is useless.

Anyway. During the 'caffe con zucchero' bit of the CD (yes, CD, and it has backing music, too!), little Sugar trotted in. Well, I say little. She's pretty big now. Not as big as her brother, who is heavier than me now. But then, since I only weigh seven stone three, that's not hard.

(er, that's 7st3 per ...eye).

But my bella Zucchero is so pretty, I took some pictures of her, lounging on my new duvet like the little superstar she is. Ain't she gorgeous? Ain't my bedding cool? Ain't it all bellissimo?

Procrastination station

So, okay. Next Sundown book should be turned in by the end of the month. Samhain Christmas story the month after that. Then the next-next Sundown book. Then I have to finish self-edits on Sophie book three. And finish writing Kett's book. Then edit Sophie books four, five and six. Then finish book seven, and write book eight.

But you know what I'm doing? Making Poser arts.

Whatcha all doin' to procrastinate?

Approximately Human

They used to have this column in the Times Magazine on Saturdays where a famous saying, speech or whatever, would be put through an online translator into some other language, then back into English. Honestly, it was like reading those t-shirts printed up in Japan.

So in the spirit of learning and entertainment (trans: it's bloody funny and I love to procrastinate), I'm going to do the same with a couple of my book blurbs. You can tell where the translator just stalled over certain phrases (because they're the ones which are untouched). Greek was fun: all those funky characters!


She Who Dares, to Greek and back (couldn't find an Egyptian translator, but Dare is Greek, so that'll do).
There are nights when does I serious wish I'd never rise from the grave.

Undead executioner they are One thing , but when does the Guy I'm provision to kill turn Outside To have the blue eyes and yummiest butt I've seen since the fall of the Greek empire ( which incidentally was the last time saw him ), I start To have second thoughts.

He nice himself to dare , and that's it not as soon as his incomparable hotness that's all stalling me. twenty three century before my sign existent in the pharaoh and my heart upon One soldier. both of the them betrayed me. this was sole to dare who tried upon to rescue me.

This who to dare

Because serious , who sleep means One coffee this days?


What Wizards Want, to Welsh and back (see above re: no Irish translator, but Welsh came from the same root, and is also a seldom-used second official language. Plus, ain't much sea between them).

Five y were penetrating You Never Knew About Wizards

1. You wave ' tower need he is being able tea proper crusts mantle - type props he may cover I come real bags. Although y were penetrating flour get kind smith interesting when you improvise.

2. You would clarify below no wizard full smith jolly hyme and spills. You get pushed to to tea deep end and only tea really lucky honest get I go let him become night plug.

3. Like wizards. Tea same way hey were depressing humans like pack she-mull except web ' stud way kinder he may cover pack she-mull.

4. Web ' stud dot immune he may cover I go shapely female form although sadly , dot ace available ace I ' heartburn like.

5. Sometimes — just sometimes — web get y were penetrating wron. And when web I come , tea results flour be spectacular.

How e pirate queens have you freed lately?


Elf Gratification, to Swedish and back:

Calascien keeper perceive Truly reindeer isn't too happy to hear that his boss ice about to pray replaced. Ago keep one's cool thing he peer the old Truly. Ago another the new Truly ice the silliest , sexy , aunt annoyance young blonde he's ever met. How's an elf supporter to concentrate when his boss keeps dressing invite peer Truly A bit Stripped?

Candy Cinnamon isn't particularly pleased to pray abducted pious her life as a Hollywood husband artist duck tip in the noon perceive Nowhere Lapland. Ago a take-off everyone seems to pray really stoned : truly Elves? What are they smoking? Then there's the guy assigned to keep an eye on her : the aunt arrogant annoying deluded husband there's ever been.

But if he could fair goat it into his head that he's note an elf duck she's note Truly then she might take-off to find him gentle attractive. In a lunatic kind perceive way.


Fun, huh? Okay, one more. Almost Human...now, what language to pick? I know, Tagalog!


Bell journal. me are chance , knight of the order of the Phoenix , woman of the association.

Me trainer as a Phoenix knight because I'm condemn beneficial in a fight. me trainer as an associate because I'm condemn beneficial in bed. but all the training in the monarchy couldn't prepare me for dark man so potent sexy me can't keep my underwear toward in its presence.

It's a shame , then , thatch dark seem toward have different plan for my body—for sample , kill it.

Approximately Human

Love possible possible murder




I am so never going to get tired of 'Approximately Human'. Hah!