Silk & Shadows

Currently working on: Book 4 — Argh, writing faster!
Mood: Speedy

One of the best/worst parts of the Romance Writers of American annual conference is all the books.  Look, you know how it is.  There’s a book.  It needs a home.  I have a bookshelf.  What else was I supposed to do?

So I came home with a lotta books.  Have I read them all?  Not quite yet.  But I’m working on it.  And much like a nutty squirrel, I feel warm and fuzzy knowing I have a winter’s stash of reading material. 

Not that I’ll stop getting new books, of course.  You understand.

All this book reading requires a technique.  It’s not enough to just stuff my cheeks with them, bury them, and then forget where I put them.  There’s good stuff inside, after all.

So here’s  how I conquer my TBR pile:

1. Amass the books in one place.
XY doesn’t understand why I have to have ALL my books out.  Well, it’s because if I don’t see them all, I don’t know how far I have to go.  Plus, looking at them makes me happy.

2. Read the opening pages of a bunch of them.
I usually grab a handful — four to six titles — and read the first chapter or so, usually while I’m sitting on the floor in front of my bookshelf.

3. Choose a winner. Or two.
Inevitably, one or two titles grab my interest at the moment.  At another moment, maybe one of other books would have appealed more.  It’s fine; they’ll wait for me.

4. Settle on the couch until spring.
Oh I wish!  But I do spend a lot of time reading.  It’s a hazard of the writer’s job.  If only I got hazard pay!

How do you choose from your TBR pile?  Is it random?  Does something spark your interest and make you reach out? Or are you one of those weird people who only buys one book at a time?

Leave a comment any time this week and you’ll have a chance to win one of the titles in the pile above.

I suppose that’s another method for whittling down my TBR pile…
5. Give books away to friends.
Hey, not only does that free up space on my shelves for the next book (or two) I can tell myself I’m helping an author spread the words.

Currently working on: Unpacking from RomCon
Mood: Sleepy

This week’s topic is “The vacation untaken” (sort of a spin on Robert Frost’s ”The Road Not Taken,” perhaps, if you’re feeling poetical) but I thought I’d mention the trip I DID just take — the first annual RomCon romance readers convention.

I headed out to Denver Colorado early Friday morning. The sun is not up at 4:15, in case you were curious.  The picture below — taken from the car on the way to the airport — is a good visual representation of my oracular and mental functioning at 4:15 a.m.:

The pale fuzzy squiggle at the top is the moon.  Poor moon.

The convenient part of arriving at the airport so early is that I had time to visit the three Powell’s Books in the various concourses.  And lo and behold…

Liam’s fine (and signed!) butt could become airborne at any moment.  Much thanks to the Powell’s employees who were waaay more awake than me and helped me find my copies.

I took a nap on the plane and that was the last sleep for the weekend. I roomed with the always wickedly delightful Delilah Marvelle, who brought her infamous penis candy to give away by the handsful. (Well, not handsful, really; they were very tiny penises.)

The party started right away with workshop and events and author/reader chats. It was a convivial group. As one reader told me, she had come to the convention by herself but she felt completely comfortable finding an empty seat at dinner, knowing that everyone there was a fellow romance reader. If ever the conversation lagged (and trust me, it did not) one simple question could restart the talk for hours: “What do you read?”

My favorite events included:

Betwixt & Between Paranormal Tea: Paranormal romance authors and readers gathered for cookies and chatting.

Monster Charades: Despite being held at 10 a.m. (that’s almost as early as 4:14 a.m.!) on Saturday, the guessing-game of paranormal authors, titles, series, characters and creatures was huge fun.  Thanks (and I mean that sarcastically) to author Carolyn Crane for coming up with some baffling stumpers that had us laughing through the guessing.

Build-a-Hero Workshop: The dark fae we created — Shikar of the magic hands — somehow lost out to the historical hero Sir Rochester, but we love him still.  I was supposed to bring home the whiteboard where we’d written his description (including his… um, manly measurements) but I lost it at the Denver airport on the way home!  Someone there is going to be very confused.  Luckily, we took good notes:

And a close-up of the final version, written in the preternaturally tidy script of Elizabeth:

Thanks to Sabrina for forwarding me the pictures!  And thanks to author Meagan Hatfield, especially for coming up with our team name: Team Awesome!  We were, weren’t we?

I think the brightest highlight for me was the chance to sit with Nalini Singh, Christine Feehan and C.L. Wilson on a paranormal author panel.  Can you imagine?  Sitting next to those stars?  In comparison, I looked a little like that fuzzy moon I posted earlier!  But I felt very much at ease because they are among the nicest people in the world (or most other worlds you can imagine).  The fact they write the stories that rock MY world is the frosting-and-sprinkles on the cupcake of my glee!

(If you’re on Twitter and want a blow-by-blow account, you can scroll back through #romcon for commentary.)

Last and best, I had the chance to meet readers, a few of whom had even read my stories :)  What a trip!  I was on Cloud 9.  Actually, I was above Cloud 9 and just a little to the north of Mt. Hood (thanks to Southwest Airlines and their two free bags policy which allowed me to bring 100 lbs. of giveaways and snacks):

The event is in the planning stages for next year in Denver. I’ll post word here as soon as I hear what’s up. I’d love to meet some Silk And Shadows readers at RomCon 2011!

Meanwhile, I brought home a few books.  Honestly, just a few.  But the highlight… I have a signed copy of Nalini Singh’s ANGEL’S BLOOD!   It’s the first book in her Guild Hunter series and you do NOT want to be left behind on this one.  Just leave a comment on any post this week and you’ll be entered for a chance to win.  I’ll warn you now, you’ll want to go get your copy of the second book, ARCHANGEL’S KISS, before you start reading.  Yes, it is that good.

What do you think?  Would you be interested in attending a romance readers’ convention?  Which author would you most want to meet?

[Note from Jessa: I met Tracy at the Romance Writers of American conference last year at a lunch hosted by our literary agency.  Right there, I fell in love with Tracy's hot and steamy erotica covers, but I think I'm even more excited about these dragons!  Check it out and don't forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of her latest book!]

I’m so excited to be here today, talking about Dark Embers, the first book in my brand new Dragon’s Heat series.  Though I’ve been published for a couple of years now as Tracy Wolff (erotic suspense and Harlequin Superromances) this week marks more than the debut of a new series for me-it also marks the debut of a brand new name, Tessa Adams. 

Building a new name in today’s competitive market is difficult, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about today.  Today, I wanted to talk about a different type of naming altogether-one that is even harder.  That naming, of course, is the naming of my characters. 

When I first started writing professionally, I thought I’d have no problem coming up with names for my characters-after all, there are a million (more probably) names in the world. How hard could it be?  Ha!  That question shows you how much I knew.

Admittedly, sometimes it’s not difficult at all to find the right name and other times it’s so hard that I feel like ripping my hair out.  For example, I’m launching a dark and angsty Young Adult series in early 2011, centering around a strong female protagonist who is the daughter of a professional surfer and a mermaid.  As her seventeenth birthday approaches, she must make a choice-does she stay human or become mermaid?  Naming her was easy for me-Tempest came to me early on in the process and fit her like a glove.  Naming my dragons, on the other hand, was terrible.

As I sat down to write Dark Embers, I spent a long time wondering what a good name would be for a dragon.    Obviously, it had to be strong and sexy and hot (pun totally intended).  And, to make matters a million times worse, I didn’t need to name just one dragon- I had to name nine.  After all, when you set up a series, you need to start bringing in a group of secondary characters fairly early on-otherwise, your readers won’t be very vested in the next book in the series.  So, suddenly, I not only had to name the King of the Dragonstar clan (who turned out to be Dylan, btw, which means, powerful, with great influence, like a lion, son of the sea or son of magic, depending what source for name origins you look at-it seemed the perfect name for my tortured, reluctant yet incredibly powerful King) but I also had to name his sentries-the men who helped him protect his clan. 

After days of playing with names, I reached a really interesting conclusion-I love male names that end in the letter N.  I have Dylan, Quinn, Logan, Ian, Shawn … you get the idea (and is now a good time to mention that heroes of two of my already published books have the names Kevin and Byron???)  Talk about N overload.  To throw some variety in there, I ended up adding in a Gabe (because Gabriel is my all time favorite name ever, so of course he is one of the most amazing characters I’ve ever written) and a Liam, which is so close to ending with an N, I wonder why I even bother.  And after I finally settled on the dragon names, I had to come up with names for their mates-or at least for the first few books, as I had one to write and proposals due on another two. 

And now, that those names are finally taken care of (Phoebe for Dylan, Jasmine for Quinn and Annalisse for Logan), here I am again, struggling to find the perfect names for a brand new urban fantasy series I am working on. 

For my heroine, a direct descendent from the highest priestess of the Egyptian goddess, Isis, she is a body finder, someone who through magic, psychic link, etc. is unerringly drawn to uncover dead bodies.  Playing opposite her are two men (don’t you love a love triangle???) one a beleaguered FBI agent stuck following her across state lines as she discovers bodies and the other a powerful, magical force from her past whose very presence causes her already difficult gift to go haywire.  The only problem … I don’t yet have names for any of them.  So …  

What I thought I’d do, was ask your advice.  Any suggestions for kick-ass female names?  Or for strong, powerful male names?  Leave a suggestion here and be entered to win a copy of Dark Embers.  Thanks in advance, and thanks so much to the wonderful ladies of Silk and Shadows for having me.  I really appreciate it.

_____________________________________

Read more about DARK EMBERS:

King Dylan MacLeod is one of the last pure-bred dragon shapeshifters in existence-and ruler of a dying race, the Dragonstar clan.  It falls to him to protect his people-and their ancient magic.  He has one more duty: to provide an heir.

Like all dragons, Dylan can only procreate with his destined mate-for whom he’s searched for five hundred years.  His dark, rampant sexual appetite has earned him quite the reputation, all in the pursuit of his one true match.

But his search is delayed when a deadly disease sweeps through the Dragonstars, and Dylan must venture to the human world to find a cure.  He tracks down renowned biochemist Phoebe Quillum, never imagining the beautiful scientist will be the mate he’s been seeking for centuries.  But no sooner do they meet then Phoebe and Dylan are besieged by an obsessive, overpowering sexual desire.

Their passion turns to something truer-and they know in their souls and bodies that they’re in too deep to get out.  And when Phoebe is kidnapped by Dylan’s oldest enemy, he must risk everything to reclaim the only woman he’s ever loved, or his clan will be wiped out forever.

_____________________________________

Prologue

He’d failed. Again.

Locked inside his head, tormented by shades of what might have been, Dylan MacLeod stepped into the night and closed the heavy, wooden door behind him.

He paused for a moment, sucked in a deep breath full of heat and sand and misery. Told himself it was no big deal. Part of him even believed it.

After four hundred and seventy years, he was damn good at lying to himself.

Shoving away from the small house with the cactus garden and the stone swimming pool in the front yard, he walked the deserted street rapidly. It was three a.m., and his only company was a scorpion or two. The desert was quiet, the night solemn.

And he had failed again.

With each step he took, his conscience grew heavier.

With each footfall, his heart grew colder, until he was once again at that place without hope. It was where he usually existed, where he’d spent the last century, mired in guilt and rage and a fear he refused to admit.

That he was here now was his own fault. It had been stupid, even for a moment, to truly believe that she might have been the one.

Agitation made him walk faster, until his boots were pounding the pavement in rhythm with his too-quick pulse. Self-disgust made him shut down inside, until all he could think of was the night.

The stars.

The moon shining brilliantly over the desert.

At least until his jeans sagged around his ass.

With a muttered curse, Dylan yanked the faded denim back into place. Slid the button through the tab, jerked up the zipper.

What did it say about him that this latest encounter had left him so desperate to get away that he hadn’t stayed long enough even to get his clothes on properly? Worse, he hadn’t bothered to say good-bye to Eve . . . Eva? Eden?

For a brief moment, he struggled to remember her name, what she looked like. Then let it go, as it mattered less than nothing. It wasn’t like he’d be seeing her again. Within moments of slipping inside her, he’d figured out that she wasn’t the one-none of the signs were there.

No instant connection between them, as his clan mates so often spoke about.

No burning as the tattoo around his arm shifted to reflect the presence of his mate.

No searing pain as a part of her soul arrowed into his.

Nothing but a mediocre orgasm that had barely given his powers a pulse. Before she’d rolled off him, he’d been plotting his escape. And by the time the shower had kicked on in the bathroom, he’d been halfway to the front door.

God, he was a fucked-up bastard. Cold as ice, despite the fire that raged within him. Hot as flame, despite the glacier that had taken up residence in his stomach. Was it any wonder, then, that he couldn’t find her?

He didn’t deserve her.

His laugh, when it came, was anything but humorous. That had to be the understatement of the year. The decade. The new millennium, and probably the old one, as well. Why else would it have taken him this long to do what everyone else managed in the first two centuries of their existence? Why else would he be doomed to failure night after night, encounter after encounter? He had screwed up generations ago, and now he and his clan were paying the cosmic price. Big time.

His boots ate up the streets in the sleepy little town, as he struggled to put distance between himself and his latest sexual escapade. Wind whipped around him, played with the tails of his shirt, caressed his bare chest. But Dylan didn’t bother buttoning up. What was the point, when he was headed right back to the bar to find yet another female shifter interested in taking it off?

Hope sprang eternal.

As he walked, he scanned the desert around him. Checked out every brush of the wind against cactus; narrowed his eyes at the rustle behind a random pile of heavy rocks. Then shook his head as a low, deep howl split the air next to him. A lonely coyote was the least of his problems.

If someone had told him four hundred years ago that he would be here, in this place, he would have laughed at them. If they’d told him he would grow tired of night after night of hot, anonymous sex, he would have told them they were insane. But youth was like that-arrogant, seemingly invincible, convinced the world was for the taking. Or at least that’s how his youth had been.

He’d spent centuries gorging on women, taking them each and every way he could. Glutting himself on their scent and taste and feel, until his powers reached staggering heights. Devouring whatever they gave him with a grin and a wink and a softly whispered “Thank you.”

He had plenty of time, he’d told his father when the man had advised him to settle down. He was trying to find the right woman, he’d promised his mother when she’d fretted about the future. And then, from one heartbeat to the next, everything had changed.

His brother had been murdered. His parents had died soon after. He’d been crowned king. And just that suddenly, his people, his legacy, were without an heir. Bad enough that the second son was now the king. That he couldn’t find a mate, couldn’t deliver on his family’s legacy, was a nightmare.

There were others-his sister, his niece-who could take his place if he fell. But it wouldn’t be the same. The line of succession, which had remained in his family for more than three thousand years, would fall with him.

One more fuckup from a man who had never wanted to be king in the first place.

Dylan shoved the thought away-what he wanted didn’t play into things anymore. What was best for his people did. And what was best for them now was that he provide them an heir.

He should already have done so, should already have guaranteed his people’s survival through this millennia and into the next. God knew he had tried-for nearly four hundred years, he had tried. And he had failed.

No mate meant no heir.

No mate meant night after night of anonymous sex as he searched for her.

No mate meant a dwindling in his powers that was not just devastating, but downright dangerous-for himself and his people.

His was a precarious state of events for any centuries-old dragon, but for him it was an out-and-out disaster-particularly considering the state his clan was in.

Not that an heir would solve all the problems, but it would solve the most pressing-including the fact that it had been far too many years since a young dragon had been born to Dragonstar.

Far too long since they’d had something to celebrate.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and for one brief second Dylan considered ignoring it. The day had been dismal enough-any more bad news and he might just take flight and never return. The idea was far more inviting than it should have been, far more compelling than it had ever been before.

In the end, he grabbed his phone and flipped it open. Barked “Hello” in a voice he knew was far from welcoming. He was king of the Dragonstar clan, and as such could never be unavailable to his people. That didn’t mean he had to like it-especially tonight.

“Dylan, come quick.”

A shot of uneasiness worked its way down his spine at the panic in his best friend’s-and second- in-command’s-voice. As a rule, nothing fazed Gabe.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Marta. She’s-” Gabe’s voice broke. “She’s sick.”

His stomach plummeted to his boots. “Are you sure?”

His brother-in-law’s voice was hoarse. “I’m sure. I tried to deny the symptoms, to ignore them, but that’s not possible anymore. I don’t think-” His voice broke again. “I don’t think she’s going to make it through this.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Dylan was already running, his boots echoing in the deserted street as he stripped his shirt from his body. He didn’t bother with the pants or boots; they would take too long. Just blurred his image as he started to shift.

Pain-red-hot and intense-as bones broke, reshaped, grew longer.

Pleasure-acute and all-consuming-as he became what he was meant to be.

He ignored both sensations; concentrated instead on making it through the change. One more second. Two. And then he was in the air, his wings spread wide as he soared through the star-bright sky.

Not Marta, not Marta, not Marta. The simple phrase was a mantra in his head as he sped toward his lieutenant’s house, making sure to stay invisible, despite the panic racing through him. So many of his friends, so many of his clan, had been taken from him in the last years. He couldn’t stand to lose his sister-Gabe’s wife-too.

Please, God, not his baby sister, too.

But when he landed in Gabe’s yard, he knew his prayers had, once again, gone unanswered. He could smell the blood from outside the house, could hear his sister’s nonsensical mutterings through the walls of dense stone.

Marta was bleeding out.

Delirious.

Probably already paralyzed.

If her illness followed the same pattern all the others had, she would be dead before the next moonrise. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Inside him, the power sputtered to life, surged through him. The need to heal, to fix, to do what he was destined to do. But he’d tried it so many times before on so many of his clan members, and each time, he had failed. This disease was an enemy he didn’t know how to fight.

Rage and anguish welled within him, crushing his lungs and twisting his spine into hard knots. Throwing back his head, Dylan roared with all his pent-up fury-then went inside to watch his baby sister die.

Currently working on: Staying on top of the raspberry and snow pea harvest
Mood: Wondering how many dishes include both raspberries AND snow peas…

So we’re halfway through the year.  (Well, halfway plus a little bit, but I’m always behind.)  This is usually when I pull out my New Year’s Resolutions, laugh hysterically, and reassess.  What are my NEW New Half Year’s Resolutions?

When I look at what I have to get done before the end of the year, the hysteria becomes more pronounced and other living beings in my household find heavy objects to find under.  But the trick is always first things first.  So in honor of this week’s blog topic of “My next project,” I bring you my first task: Announcing the winner of last week’s Ava Gray SKIN GAME giveaway.  Random.org picked:

Spav, who is distracted by Twitter. Aren’t we all?  Congrats, Spav, and thanks to all who commented.

Now, onto the next task…

I’ll be attending RomCon, a new convention for romance readers and writers, in a couple weeks (which, like the end of the year, is coming faster than I anticipate, I know).  I’m very much looking forward to stalking some of my favorite authors, hanging with friends, chatting with readers, and signing books.  If you live in Denver or have friends, family or Facebook acquaintances who live in Denver or anywhere in the Rockies for that matter, come join us!  The giant book fair is open to the public. Details:

RomCon
Crowne Plaza Denver Airport
15500 East 40th Avenue, Denver, CO
Saturday, July 10, Noon Book Fair
Meet Jo Beverley, Christine Feehan, Julia Quinn, Lori Foster, Meljean Brook, Nalini Singh, Carly Phillips, Susan Mallery, Melissa Mayhue, Catherine Anderson, Jodi Thomas and dozens of other fabulous authors [Note from Jessa: You'll see I am not a listed author at this point in my life, but at least I am fabulous] our multi-author booksigning sponsored by Borders. Bring up to 3 books from your own library for your favorite author to sign!

But before I go, I have to finish writing a short story from the world of the Marked Souls.  It’s the possession story of Corvus Valerius.  I’m going to give away limited edition prints of the story at RomCon before I post it to my website.  If you want a copy (when I finally finish it) email your snail mail addy to jessa at jessaslade dot com with the subject line: Corvus.

Writing his story has been harder than I thought it would be.  Okay, all writing is harder for me than I think it will be.  But Corvus’s tale is especially hard because… Well, as soon as I started writing him, he became my hero. 

There’s a saying among writers: Every villain is the hero of his own story.  That’s been true of Corvus through the first two books of the Marked Souls and it’s even more true when we see how he gave in to temptation — and his demon.  What do you think, does evil always believe itself in the right, or sometimes does evil just say, hell yeah I’m evil?

I’m also running a contest/asking a favor/assigning you an enviable task at my personal blog.  I need to find a royalty free picture of Corvus for the cover of the short story.  If somebody finds a shot I can use, she’ll get a signed copy of SEDUCED BY SHADOWS or FORGED OF SHADOWS.  You can read the details here. 

See you (hopefully) in Denver!

Currently working on: A free-read short story from the Marked Souls
Mood: Murderous (in the storyworld, not real life!)

Writers write.

It’s one of those sayings that frustrated writers lob at each other like a water balloon full of lemon juice and razor blades.

But sometimes it isn’t always that easy.  (Kind of like that metaphor.) 

Writers write. 
Writers try to write. 
Writers at least sit at their computers.
Writers at least sit at their computers with their fingers on the keyboard.
Okay, writers at least blog.

The hardest part of writing, for me, is focus.  When I write, distractions are like… like the ants that are currently marching around my office window in search of… I really can’t tell.  Hold on while I go look…

Apparently the ants want Monster Girl’s mostly-chewed cow thigh bone.  This bone has been in my office for nigh onto two years now, along with enough other pieces of cow to reanimate most of a bovine, given enough electricity and mad cackling.  Although if I count correctly, this particular cow would have five legs.  Whatever.  (I do remove the bones when we have houseguests, because nobody likes to sleep on an inflatable twin mattress in an abattoir.)  Why the ants would want this bone now…  Probably they are distracting me from something else they really want.  Like my bucket of cookie dough.

Speaking of distractions, see how easy it was to get distracted from this post on the hardest part of writing?

(In case you were curious, the ants are odorous house ants.  (Tapinoma sessile. Subfamily: Dolichodorinae.  I Googled it just for you.)  They earned this name from the scent of rotton coconuts they emit when crushed by a wildly wielded cow thigh bone.  Or, obviously, any other blunt object.  This infestation does not indicate that I’m a failure at housekeeping (although I am).  All of Portland is built on a giant anthill.)

Aside from the ants, one of my most common distractions is, not surprisingly, books.  I have a lot of books around me.   A lot of good books.  It’s a hazard of the job.  A lot of good books within arm’s reach.  Which is a hazard of a small office.

Why, look, this good book just fell into my hand.  It’s a signed copy of the first book in Ava Gray’s Skin series, SKIN GAME.  The second book, SKIN TIGHT, came out this month, and you do NOT want to be left behind.

SKIN GAME starts like this:

Kyra held the guy’s balls in the palm of her hand. Literally.

Just for a second as she brushed by him, but it was enough. His eyes widened, and she knew he took the touch as a sign he’d get lucky after he won her last hundred bucks. The crumpled bill lay underneath his, weighted by a cube of pool chalk.

Poor, stupid mark.

See, THAT is why I was distracted.  Leave a comment about what distracts you most often and you’ll have a chance to win the signed copy of SKIN GAME.

Now what was I… Right, distractions. 

I first learned about writing in flow (a focused — emphasis is mine –timeless state where creativity comes “easily”) from reading Susan K. Perry’s WRITING IN FLOW.  Perry writes a creativity blog for Psychology Today online.  I sometimes go read that when I’m feeling distracted.

The book reads like a fairy tale to me, a tale of princesses whose words fall from their fingertips like rose petals and diamonds.  I even love the word “flow,” the way it sounds and the way it looks.  Flow…  Flooowww. 

I’m easily distracted.

Back to the ants.  These are actually scout ants.  So they do a lot of backtracking and wandering in circles and…  Seem familiar?  Yeah, to me too.  Can’t quite place it though…

You know who would like my ants?  Mark Moffett, called the Indiana Jones of entomology by the National Geographic Society.  Who wouldn’t want Indy to come steal all the ants in her office?  I heard Moffett interviewed on NPR (he’s pimping a new book ADVENTURES AMONG ANTS) and his ants are way cooler (also meaner, bigger and did I mention meaner) than my ants, and also more focused.  They can skeletonize large dead things, like cows, which would no doubt impress Monster Girl.

Sadly, I don’t have a signed copy of Moffett’s ant book to give away, but remember to leave a comment for SKIN GAME.

So anyway, it’s not that I’m always distracted, it’s just that

Note from Jessa: I got to dance with Marie-Claude Bourque at RT in Columbus this year, so I can attest to her fitness!  She’s willing to give away a copy of ANCIENT WHISPERS to one lucky commenter, so you can experience her wonderfully evocative writing yourself!

When it comes to writing fast, face it, unless we are specially gifted, it all comes down to motivation and how much time we spend putting words on the page.

I spend 15 years as an AFAA certified fitness instructor, the last 5 of those as a coordinator and trainer of instructors. I learned a thing or two about motivation, because really, taking the steps to stay fit and healthy requires a lot of motivation.

So here is what I taught my fitness clients and class participants and how you can adapt it to find the motivation to be more prolific in writing (and, as bonus, learn some fitness tips).

Keep your goals intrinsic:

Fitness: This means that your goals should be things that you can do something about as opposed to goals that involve someone else or external factors. I can have a goal of losing 10 pounds by next month or looking like Heidi Klum by my birthday but I’m fighting a lot of things here, my metabolism and my genetics. It is impossible with that goal to reach success. If I say I’ll exercise 4 times this week, or take my latte nonfat for now on, the goal is completely under my control. If I do fail, it’s my fault.

Writing: Similarly if my goal is to sell my first book within the year, hit the NYT list in 5 years or become as famous as Nora Roberts, I am not setting myself up for success.  However, I can be quite successful if I chose to submit my manuscript to ten agents this month, or my proposal to my editor by next week or finish my 2 completed novels by the end of the year. It’s all under my control.

Write it down:

Fitness: Most successful fitness professional write down their progress. In an exercise or a food log, in a notebook, calendar or on a smart phone, it doesn’t matter but it seems that people who track down what they are doing tend to think more about what they are about to eat and are motivated to see their progress on paper. I lost 40 pounds of baby weight twice by writing down everything I ate. It works.

Writing: We can do this in writing to. Track your daily word count or pages written, whether on a calendar that you see every day or in a special notebook, by coloring blocks on a chart, using a word count meter online or posting your accomplishments to your social networks, whatever works for you. Seeing the number add up every day is very motivating.

Make it social:

Fitness: I always tell my participant to make dates with friends at the gym. If you know your best friend is there, you can’t change your mind at the last minute. She might be upset. Planning for coffee afterwards with a bunch of pals makes you more likely to go because it’s fun. Having a running buddy who picks you up at your house also gives you no choice but go ahead with your exercise.

Writing: Writing is more solitary but you can make it social. Why is Twitter so popular with writers? You can meet a writer friend at the coffee shop to write, you can have a writing buddy that you email in the morning then at the end of the day to encourage each other or you can belong to goal oriented group like Amy Atwell’s Goal in a Month groups. It’s a lot more fun when you are not alone.

Get your stuff ready ahead of time:

Fitness: I like to keep my gear close by and accessible. If I am not spending 15 min. looking for my gym socks, I am much more likely to stick with my daily walks. I like to have my clothes ready if I know I’ll exercise in the morning and I would always pack my gym bag in my trunk in the morning when I used to work outside to head straight to the gym before going back home. In college, I would pack my locker with a fresh supply of all my gear for the week including swimsuit and rackets, so I could just go there and decide what kind of exercise I would do on the spot.

Writing: I write first thing in the morning and I am not blessed with an office. I found that when I put my notebook, pen, and laptop all ready for me to write, I am much more likely to do it. If you keep your material organized and easily accessible in an obvious reminder that you need to write now, you are more likely to do it.

If all fails, buy something.

Fitness: I used to tell people to go buy some nice exercise wear when they felt their motivation slipping. Yes exercise it hard, but we might as well look pretty while doing it. Trust me, it works. Plus if you’ve invested some money, you’re imposing a little guilt on yourself to actually use the stuff.

Writing: I cured my writer’s block last summer by downloading a song each time I would finish a scene. I figured the most it would cost me would be $75 for a whole book. Pretty cheap! It worked for me. Soon I was writing one-two scenes a day and even started to forget to buy songs because I was having so much fun writing. Find a little treat that you can get once you’re done, it might help!

Just do it

Fitness: In the end, there are no tricks. That’s why Nike got its trademark bang on. You just have to get there and do it. Don’t think. Learn to shut that part of your brain that moans and complains that you are tired and will start tomorrow. Get out there and exercise. Do it first thing in the morning (early exercisers are more successful at keeping up with it) or head to the gym straight after work. Don’t get comfortable, do it. Do it for 5 minutes, hey you might actually stick with it for 30 min. but if not, at least you got into the habit of doing it. It does get easier.

Writing: BIC: Butt in Chair. Is there any other way? Again, just do it. Don’t think about it. Sit and stare at the blank page. Even if all you do is sit there for your allotted time and think about your book, you are being productive. Find times to do it when you are so tired there is nothing more you’d like to do than sit down and daydream (I like early morning and right after my run).

So now, make a date with yourself and write!  (or exercise or both!)

—————————————

Marie-Claude Bourque is the American Title V winner and author of ANCIENT WHISPERS, a sensual gothic paranormal romance filled with sorcerers and Celtic priestesses in search for eternal love in modern time. She worked as a climate research scientist, a scientific translator and a fitness expert until she turned to fiction writing. She draws her inspiration from the French legends of her childhood and a fascination for dark fantasy.

ANCIENT WHISPERS, a Dorchester -Love Spell release is available now wherever books are sold. Find more at www.mcbourque.com and don’t forget to enter the contest for her month-long virtual release party at www.mcbourque.com/launchparty

First of all, today is Memorial Day here in the USA.  I hope everyone celebrating has a good BBQ, safe travels, and a chance for a quiet moment of remembrance.

Currently working on: Almost release day!
Mood: Whee!

This week’s topic here at Silk And Shadows is “the hardest part of writing.”  But I’m hijacking the thread, because this is a celebration week for me.   Book 2 of the Marked Souls, FORGED OF SHADOWS, comes out tomorrow, June 1, 2010!

The war between good and evil has raged for millennia, with the Marked Souls caught in the middle, but the new girl doesn’t play by old rules…

Liam Niall never meant to be a leader. Barely surviving the horrors of the Irish Potato Famine with body and soul intact, he escaped to Chicago…where he lost half his soul and gained a wayward band of demon-possessed warriors. Now, as the talyan face a morphing evil, Liam grows weary and plagued by doubt-until a new weapon falls into his hands. Her name is Jilly Chan. To save her demon-ridden soul, Liam must win her to his battle…and his bed.

Waging a one-woman war against the threats to the street kids she mentors, Jilly won’t be any man’s woman or weapon. But Liam-with his hard eyes, soft brogue and compelling hands-is a danger to her rebellious independence…and her heart.

These two halved souls sharing one fierce passion will sear a fresh scar across the city. Who’s in danger now?

“[F]or readers who love J.R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood, the Marked Souls series will hit the spot.”
–4 Stars RT BOOKReviews

This is only my second book, but so far, it seems to me that release week  is one of the EASIEST parts of writing.  Because by the time release week rolls around, it’s too damn late.  Everything has been done.  The story is written, edited, wrapped in a manly chest — or backside, as the case may be — printed, and shipped to the stores (hopefully) to appear on shelves.  From thence to fall into book baskets everywhere (again, hopefully).

Sure, there are other things for me to do: Bite my nails, obsessively click refresh on the Amazon ranking page, self-medicate with chocolate syrup (I already ate all the cookie dough).  But the story itself is done.  All that remains is for someone, somewhere, to read it.

If YOU want to read some of it, you can:
Check out the first chapters here.
Or read the alternate beginning here.
Or even buy it.

This is the moment (okay, months) of truth for a story.  I’ve heard of writers who say they write for themselves, but I write to share.  The release of the book into the wild is my chance — finally! — to share.

I sincerely hope you like it.

To celebrate, I’m giving away a $25 bookstore gift card this week.  Just tell me which of the two beginnings to FORGED OF SHADOWS that I posted in the links above you like better, and you’ll be entered for a chance to win.  Tell a friend about this giveaway, and have the friend enter your name in her comment, and you’ll both be double entered for a chance to win.  Thanks for celebrating with me!

Note from Jessa: When Elisabeth Naughton told my writing group about her first adventure romance trilogy, she called it “Indiana Jones meets Romancing the Stone,” which is like saying chocolate ganache meets dark chocolate.  And now she has a new series paranormal romance starting, which is like saying chocolate ganache meets dark chocolate with chocolate sprinkles.  And she’s giving away a copy today, so read up and leave your comment.

Thanks so much to the gang at Silk & Shadows for inviting me to be with you all today! 

If you’ve read any of my previous books you know that I’m a romantic suspense author who has recently shifted to the dark side and is now writing paranormals as well. The first book in my Eternal Guardians series – MARKED – released this month. Someone recently asked me, “Why the change?” and I thought about the question for a minute, but couldn’t answer. It’s a simple question, I know, but the only answer I could come up with was not one I knew the questioner wanted to hear. I mean, authors are supposed to know why they do everything they do, so to have an author say, “I dunno. I just write the books that come to me,” I knew my answer just wasn’t gonna cut it. 

That, of course, is a cop out answer (even if it’s true). And since readers seem to want to know why things change (as my editor says… “Okay, why is this happening again?”), I’ve decided it would be in my best interest to have a list of answers ready and waiting for just such a question. 

So here it is, my top ten list for shifting to the dark side. 

10. Look at that cover. Do I need to have another reason for wanting to write paranormals?!

9. Special powers come in really handy in the climax of a paranormal book. As an author who ALWAYS gets stuck here trying to make everything work out, I can tell you it’s much easier to throw in an electrical storm or zap someone with lightning fingers to get out of a bind than it is to save the day with plane ol’ Tom, Dick & Harry. 

8. Superhuman sex. (I do write romantic paranormals, after all.)

7. I get to write about snarky gods. They seem to be able to get away with anything they want. Who knew? 

6.   Looking for a little danger? You don’t need a serial killer on the run to amp up the tension. That’s sooo over done. Throw in a seething daemon instead. Seven feet tall, horns like a goat, face like a cat, ears off a dog and lots of claws? Oh man. So much more fun! 

5. Sure, romances are great, but when the two main characters are fated to be together and hate each other at the same time? That just adds an extra level of tension that makes the whole romance that much more interesting. 

4. The fact I can throw in a Fury (or two or three) whenever I feel like it (Yes, I am Fury obsessed). And this time they’re real winged creatures with snakes in their hair, razor sharp teeth and a rabid need for blood, not simply stone carvings of the creatures. 

3. I can write really twisted scenes and blame the genre. (“What? You think that’s too sick? Yeah, but it’s a paranormal. My readers will expect it.”) 

2.  Superhuman sex (did I say that before?) 

And the number one reason I decided to write paranormals: 

1. They’re just plain freakin’ fun! 

I never expected I’d have so much fun writing this series, but every day I’m excited I get to take my world one step further. While I love romantic suspense and don’t plan to give up writing in that genre (as soon as I turn in TEMPTED, book 3 in my Eternal Guardians series, I’m jumping back into a romantic suspense novella for Kensington), I’m thrilled I get to write about heroes and gods and prophecies and soul mates. The possibilities in a paranormal are endless, the danger is epic and the romance seems a thousand times more intense when other-worldy dangers are lurking around every corner.  

So why did I shift to the dark side? The answer is clear: Why the heck wouldn’t I?   

What do you love most about paranormal novels? What draws you to them again and again? I’ve got a copy of MARKED to give away to one lucky commenter today! 

***

A previous junior-high science teacher, Elisabeth Naughton now writes sexy romantic adventure and paranormal novels full time from her home in western Oregon where she lives with her husband and three children. Her debut release, Stolen Fury, heralded by Publisher’s Weekly as “A rock-solid debut,” was recently nominated for two prestigious RITA® awards by Romance Writers of America in the Best First Book category and the Best Romantic Suspense category. When not writing, Elisabeth can be found running, hanging out at the ball park or dreaming up new and exciting adventures. Learn more about Elisabeth and her books at www.Elisabethnaughton.com.

Currently working on: Argh, look behind you!.. What? Oh sorry, never mind.  My mistake… What was the question again?
Mood: Focused as a laser beam

No, I’m kidding, I have been working.  Hard.  I’ve been composing guest blog posts in preparation for my blog tour to support the release of FORGED OF SHADOWS next month.  (Which will be here before I know it.  That’s what’s behind us–the relentlessly creeping Time Monster!)  One of the interview questions I had to answer was: What do you do when you’re not writing?

I thought about it for awhile.  And couldn’t come up with anything. 

If I’m not writing, I SHOULD be writing.  After all, I have the life many writers long for–a published book and another on the way.  To not write seems disrespectful.  Guilt makes not writing not fun.

So to circumvent the Guilt Monster (second cousin to the Time Monster) I often try to find a way to make my non-writing activities support my writing activites.  Dog walks are brainstorming sessions.  Reading is research.  Twitter (http://twitter.com/jessaslade) is networking.  Buckets o’ cookie dough are much-needed energy.  Naps are…well, cookie dough only takes you so far, doesn’t it?

Even my other creative pursuits have taken a back seat to writing.  The little sketching I’ve done in the last few years has been of the horde-tenebrae monsters in my books or settings when I can’t quite picture the staging.  I haven’t picked up a paintbrush at all.  Only my beading has resisted the all-encompassing suck of The Book, mostly because I’ve been making Possession in Pearl earrings–from demented, weirdly shaped pearl sticks–to use as blog tour giveaways.

I’m always glad when I blow off my guilt and sneak in an utterly non-writing project because it was a personal beading breakthrough that I think really opened some doors in my mind when it came to my writing.

See, I’m a perfectionist.  Nasty habit, that.  Striving for excellence is a worthy goal, but perfectionism will drive you mad.  For a long time, I would string beads to make a necklace…and then unstring them because they weren’t quite right.  I was constantly on the lookout for the “perfect” bead to complete a given project.  I amassed more and more beads, but it was impossible to be sure I had the “perfect” bead because–as many beads as I had–I didn’t have them all.  What if the “perfect” bead was still out there?  Time to come unstrung again.

Then one day…  I’d like to say I stopped being stupid.  But really what happened was a poverty-induced Christmas panic.  I had decided to use up some of the ridiculous amount of beads making jewelry for my female relatives.  And now I had a deadline.

Suddenly, “perfect” was less pressing than “wrapped, packed and shipped.”  I learned to come to peace with the pieces I had.  And they were perfectly lovely.  At least according to my mother, grandmother, sister, and aunt, who I’m sure were utterly objective.

Now when I’m writing, when I feel the urge to look for the perfect word, to wait until I have perfectly visualized every element of the story, to rail at myself for being less than perfect, I think of my beads.  To be lovely, to come to life, they have to be strung and hung around someone’s neck or dangling from someone’s ears.  And I’m the only one who can make that happen. 

I think most people have beads rolling around the drawers of their life that should be out for the world to admire.  Maybe not perfect, but shiny or sparkly or intriguing or whatever is good enough.  How do you support the creativity in your life?

Leave a comment and you’ll be entered for a chance to win a pair of Possession in Pearl earrings similar to the ones pictured above.  I’m making another pair as soon as I finish this post.  Hey, I can’t write ALL the time.

Although I try not to analyze my writing too intensely as I write my first draft, there are a couple of things that I remain conscious of throughout the first draft. I don’t expect to get it all right on the first pass, but staying aware of these items helps me pull the story together:

1. Is there conflict on every page?
It can be small conflict or large, but without tension, I worry that the scene will be a yawner. Besides I’m fond of torturing my characters.

2. Is the protagonist active in pursuit of his or her goal?
One of the first critiques I ever got was from the fabulous Jo Beverley. I won the critique in a contest. I’ll never forget one of the comments she made about my manuscript: “Neither [the hero] nor [the heroine] do anything to bring about the triumph. They are pawns.” Naturally, I’m now eager to ensure my characters are not feathers on the wind–that they take an active role in determining their destiny.

3. Does this scene drive the plot forward?
Those detours I sometimes take on my journey to the end of the story? Scenic? You bet. But not always productive. In one book, my editor said to me, “Could you make this scene shorter?” Being the professional that I am, I whipped out my magic slicer-dicer and removed1000 words from the scene. The alarms bells didn’t ring until I got her follow-up comment, “Could you make it a bit shorter?” Uh-oh. I loved that scene, but when I took a good hard look at it, I realized it didn’t drive the plot anywhere. It was a scenery snapshot. So, I took the whole scene out.

4. Did I end the scene/chapter with dramatic intent?
In my first draft of my first romance manuscript, I ended the first chapter with the hero going to sleep. Then I joined the RWA and went to a chapter meeting where one of our seasoned authors, Laura Byrne, said (paraphrasing), Never end a scene with a character going to sleep unless your intent is to put the reader to sleep. Ever since then, I strive to end each scene with a sense of anticipation.

5. Where’s the romance?
I love writing action scenes—battling evil, blowing things up, dealing justice to the bad guys. But I write romance because I love the romantic play between my two lead characters. To blend my interests effectively, I know I can’t lose sight of the romance. This doesn’t mean injecting romantic interludes in inappropriate spots; it means always being aware of what impact events will have on the romance. And circling back to point 1, it means making the relationship as conflict ridden as possible.

My first drafts are first drafts. I don’t remember to do all the above as I write—and sometimes I’m simply too close to the story to see the issues. But keeping these points in mind helped me final twice in the Golden Heart and sell a series to a publisher.

Speaking of selling, today is the official release day of Bound by Darkness, the second book in the Soul Gatherer series. To celebrate, a signed copy of Bound will go to one of this week’s commenters. I’ll draw the name using random.org at the end of the week. Good luck!