by Linda Poitevin, guest blogger and author of A Fairy Tale for Gwyn.
By the time I wrote A Fairy Tale for Gwyn (AFTFG), I had been writing “seriously” (aiming for publication) for about nine years. In that time, and in between various other life events, I had completed two other manuscripts, one of which never saw the light of day (and never will) and the other of which had been rejected by every publisher I sent it to.
The truth is, I went into my writing career with a pretty fair-sized ego – and the main reason my first two manuscripts will never see publication is because I wasn’t ready to learn the craft of writing. Well-meaning relatives told me I had a gift, you see, and I believed them. When my second complete manuscript tanked, however, I began to rethink my approach to writing, and to be a LOT more open to the advice being given by my very patient critique partners. So when I began work on AFTFG, I also began learning my craft. I’d like to share three of the lessons I’ve learned with you.
Lesson One: External conflict isn’t enough. While the universe may be conspiring to keep our hero/heroine apart, our characters’ own personal demons need to be in on the act. If a real estate developer is trying to turn an apartment building into luxury condos, you can see how the attractive lawyer hired by the neighbours might not want to become involved with him. If the real estate developer’s entire family is depending on him to pull off this one project because the business started by his great-grandfather will fold without it, we up the stakes a little. And if opposing counsel’s grandmother is one of the homeowners facing eviction, things get even more tense. But those are all external conflicts: events happening outside of our characters. If our developer is the prodigal son trying to earn his way back into the family, however, and the attractive lawyer feels honor-bound to look after the grandmother who paid her way through law school...then we have internal conflict. And that brings us to...
Lesson Two: Character development. You may never use half the information you compile, but you must know your characters almost as well as you know yourself. Actually, you may end up knowing them better, because we rarely question our own motives the way a writer needs to question her characters. If the heroine’s favourite color is blue (and this factors into your story), you need to know why. Does it remind her of something from her childhood? Her grandmother’s eyes? Know what drives your hero and heroine, what they like and dislike, what they’re afraid of, what their goals are, and what holds them back from achieving those goals. The better you know them, the more believable they’ll be to your reader. And the easier it will be to uncover those internal conflicts.
Lesson Three: Some of the good stuff has to go. In my first draft of AFTFG, I’d written a hot dance scene. A really hot dance scene. I loved that scene, but it honestly didn’t fit with the story. It took me weeks to stop trying to make it work and set it aside, but the lesson was invaluable. So be honest with yourself. Be honest with your story. If it doesn’t work, let it go and move on.
So there you have them: three of the many, many lessons I’ve learned from writing this story. Three of the many, many more I expect I will continue to learn as I continue to write, because I don’t think I’ll ever stop learning. I certainly hope not, because really, isn’t the biggest lesson in life that the learning never ends? 
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Gwyn Jacobs doesn’t believe in happy-ever-after.
Ever since her ex-husband walked out four years ago, abandoning her with a toddler and infant twins, Gwyn has been mother, father, and bread-winner all rolled into one. Her own scarred heart and failed marriage aside, she is determined not to open up her children’s lives to the possibility of another heartbreak...until her very own fairy tale falls into her lap -- and the hero won’t take no for an answer!
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Excerpt:
Gareth emerged from the bathroom as she reached the top hallway, the gurgle of draining water from the bathtub accompanying his appearance.
“All done,” he said, a triumphant look on his face, a bucket of congealed ick in his hand, and his soaked shirt molded to the lean six-pack beneath it.
Gwyn clutched at her resolve with both hands and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. What was it she’d intended to say? Oh, yes.
“Thank you,” she said. She set the books on the folded clothes and shifted the basket to her other hip. “I’m sorry if I sounded ungrateful earlier. I really do appreciate your help. Not just today, but all of it. I don’t know what I’d have done without you this last couple of days.”
Gareth shook his head at her, looking both amused and exasperated. “You sound like a kid who’s been coached in what to say to some cantankerous old uncle. You don’t have to apologize, Gwyn.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’m not grateful.”
“I never thought that,” he told her, smiling in a slow way that had her toes digging into the hall carpet-runner. “Besides, I’m enjoying myself.”
“Entertaining my sick kids and cleaning out my bathtub?” she asked dryly, hiding her involuntary reaction behind skepticism.
“No, being with you.” Gareth dropped a towel onto the floor near the top of the stairs and set the bucket on top of it.
But before Gwyn could do more than draw a startled breath at his unexpected, and confounding honesty, he added, “I’ve missed out on the family thing, remember? It’s nice to be a part of yours for a while.”
Oh.
“And besides, I have ulterior motives.” He plucked at his soaking, oatmeal-flecked shirt. “You wouldn’t happen to have something dry I could borrow, would you?”
“Pardon?”
“Something dry.”
Gwyn refrained from shaking her head to clear it, feeling very much like she’d fallen three steps behind in this conversation. “Yes, of course.” Sandy’s husband, Rob, had left a sweatshirt behind on a visit once that she kept forgetting to return. It might be snug, but “I meant pardon about the other thing. What ulterior motives?”
Gareth began unbuttoning his shirt. “Sorry, that’s a secret.”
He hadn’t moved in her direction, but she couldn’t help but shift the basket again, holding it like a barrier between them. The temperature in the hallway seemed to have risen several degrees, flushing her cheeks with heat and turning her mouth dry.
“A s-s-secret?”
Lord, ‘s’ was a hard sound to make with your tongue cleaved to the roof of your mouth. She tried very hard to keep her eyes on his face rather than the fascinating trail his hands were taking. The heat in her cheeks snaked a slow, tantalizing path to other parts of her anatomy. Any resolve she’d had when she’d climbed the stairs became a fleeting memory.
“Mm. But I’ll give you a hint. It hinges on kids recovering and turning their mother free again.”
Gareth slid the shirt from his shoulders and Gwyn’s knees very nearly buckled. The laundry basket shook in her grasp and she forgot all about not staring. The big screen didn’t even come close to doing the man justice.
His shoulders…broad, defined, offering a woman’s head a sanctuary like none she’d ever known. His chest, deep, powerful, inviting her touch, and promising.
Gareth cleared his throat and Gwyn’s gaze flew back to his. As if she’d spoken her every thought aloud, his eyes danced with mischief and smoldered with something darker, deeper.
“A dry shirt?” he reminded her huskily.
She fled.
Buy: A Fairy Tale For Gwyn
Buy AFTFG on Wild Rose Press.
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Author Bio
Linda Poitevin lives just outside Canada’s capital, Ottawa, with her husband, three daughters, and a varied collection of animals. In her spare time, she gardens (organically), cans and freezes the family’s winter fruit and vegetable supply, knits (basically), crochets (better), and starts way more projects than she ever finishes. (Fortunately that doesn’t hold true of her books!) She loves spending time with her family, having coffee with friends, walking by the river and watching thunderstorms…in about that order.
Giveaway: Linda will be giving away a pair of artisan-crafted earrings as well as a $10 gift certificate to The Wild Rose Press (a total prize package worth $20) to one lucky commenter during the blog tour. Comment here and on other blogs to enter and increase your chance to win. Ends February 5, 2010.
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by Judi Fennell guest blogger and author of Wild Blue Under
Thanks so much for having me here to talk about my latest release, Wild Blue Under, the second of my Mer series.
When I first started writing this series, there actually hadn't been a series. I was writing my "little talking fish story" just for myself. So, when I sold it as part of a series, I had to come up with those other stories and work them into my world.
This shouldn't have been that hard because I actually had started writing a series; just not a Mer series. My first book, In Over Her Head, was part of a twist on fairy tale series. The fourth, actually, after Cinda Bella, Beauty and The Best, and Fairest of Them All. (Beauty and The Best got some cyberwaves air play during the 3rd American Title Contest, so you might have heard of it. But it's still in the drawer, hoping for "some day.")
So, now I sold the fourth book of a series, except that it wasn't the series I thought I'd sell. I worked up a blurb on the next two stories which became Wild Blue Under
and Catch of a Lifetime
. And while this sounds great in theory, in practice, it's tough.
Why? Because once your book is in its accepted form within the publishing house, once it's going through all the processes it needs to go through to get to the final published version, you can't really go back and change a World Rule just because it doesn't work for the next story or the one after that. So I was stuck within the parameters I'd created for that one book, which now had to fit two more books (and, hopefully, a few more).
Surprisingly, it wasn't all that difficult. It helps, though, to be writing paranormal and have already set a precedent for Greek gods' involvement in the first story.
The key is to make your world rules broad enough so that you can fit them to your next scenario - you know, the one you haven't thought of yet? It's all fine and good for me to have set up the fact that, in In Over Her Head, Reel had to get back into the water before two sunsets passed so he could get his tail back, but for Wild Blue Under, Rod has to travel across half the continental US in a car while dodging dive-bombing peregrines and a mercenary albatross who'll go to any lengths to stop him from getting to the coast. Including not letting him get on a plane. Which increases travel time beyond the boundaries I'd already set practically in stone, so to speak. So I had to come up with a plausible way for Rod to keep his legs for longer than two sunsets without endangering his tail because he is, after all, the ruler of their world who's been sent by the Council to bring the lost half-Mer princess back to their world. He's going to need his tail.
Should be a piece of cake, right? Stick him on a plane, tell her she's got untold riches coming to her if she heads to the coast, and voila! He's back in the ocean in no time. Except…
We've already annihilated the plane thing by sticking vulture thugs at local airports to interfere with any plane Rod gets on, and what modern woman is going to follow some guy with a cockamamie story about an inheritance left to her by her deadbeat, take-off-before-she-was-even-born, father? To the ocean, which, as an added bonus, she's allergic to.
Not so many. Matter of fact, not any that I can think of. The evening news is full of reasons why. So, now, not only did I have to work around Rod's tail/legs thing, but also common sense. And we all know that it's far easier to believe a story about mermen than it is to believe a modern woman is going to get in the car with a stranger. That's just too fantastical.
It all worked out in the end with a little help from the bad guys, the good guys, busybody sparrows and the IRS. ["IRS? They're heroes?" you ask. Sorry, I'm not telling. You'll have to read for yourself how that happens. ]
But it did make me realize as I sat down to write my next series (about genies, releasing beginning Fall, 2010), that the broader I make the rules, the more easily I can manipulate them.
And speaking of manipulating…
Val adjusted the rearview mirror to look at the talking bird. “Okay, you guys are starting to freak me out. What are you? Some specialized branch of the FBI? CIA? What?”
Livingston shook his head. “I’m Chief Special Agent, ASA.”
“ASA? Never heard of it.” She looked at Rod.
“As well you shouldn’t,” he said, his eyes hooded—but not in the same way as they’d been during that kiss last night. Those lips that had been so pliant and urgent against hers now thinned to an almost invisible line—
“But you will,” Livingston said. “Air Security Agency.”
“Don’t you mean the FAA?” She pulled her mind back on the conversation—with a bird!—and off the kissability of Rod’s lips.
“No. ASA. I don’t work for your government.”
“You’re a foreign operative? A spy? Oh, hell, what have you two gotten me into?” One of the tires hit a pothole when she half-turned to gape at him.
“Eyes on the road, Valerie.” Livingston turned his attention back to the sky. The clouds were growing darker. “Technically, yes, I am a foreign operative. But not to you. And that’s all the explanation you’re getting from me until I know what’s what.” Livingston readjusted his hold on the seat.
“We need to know who he’s working for, Rod. I’ve been over the lists of known anarchists and I can’t come up with one. We’ve got the top wrasse working on it. They’ve studied those wires, the method of ignition planned, the locations they were stolen from, patterns of known movement among those on the list, and no one fits. It’s got to be someone else, someone new. Someone who doesn’t want you to take the throne.”
“What?” Val yanked the car to the right, almost hitting Mr. Morris’s 1957 Chevy, his pride and joy.
Rod grabbed the wheel, avoiding an accident at the last second. “Valerie, please. You must retain your composure.”
“Retain my composure? Are you insane? Yes. Yes, I think you are.” Val shoved the car into fifth and zipped onto the highway. “Anarchists? Throne? What throne? Who are you? What are you?”
“He’s a prince, Valerie.”
“Really? Whose? England’s? Monaco’s?” The porcelain god’s? She had to be dreaming this.
Rod glared at the bird then turned to her. “While England’s throne once sought to rival the territory of mine, today they don’t compare. As for Monaco, it has acceptable beaches, but the buildings, overabundance of Humans, and many conveyances have ruined the shoreline.”
She gaped at him.
“Watch it, Valerie,” the bird—the bird!—said from the backseat. “You don’t want to catch any flies with that open mouth.”
Wake up, wake up, wake up.
She pinched herself.
Ouch. Dammit. She was awake.
“So you’re really a prince? And I’m going along with the program as if heading off into the wild blue yonder with talking seagulls and royal princes is normal?”
“Valerie, we’ll explain everything later. Right now we need to find a way to go faster. We’ll never outrun JR in this.” Rod patted her arm, and, amazingly, that settled her rattled nerves.
Until she realized what he’d said.
“Are you saying that an albatross—and I can’t believe I’m even asking this question—can fly faster than a car?”
“He doesn’t need to keep up with us,” Livingston said from his regained position on the backseat. “Besides the operatives he’s been amassing, he’s able to find a meal miles away on the open ocean, so I’m sure he boned up on Rod’s scent before embarking on this mission. This damp air is only helping matters, though I’d be surprised if he did anything but report on our progress.”
“Report to whom?”
“That, my dear, is the fifty-thousand clam question. And once we know the answer to that, we’ll know the threat.”
“What threat?” She slowed down to veer around cattle that had escaped from their pasture and had decided to amble down the highway. Mr. Stromer had better check his fence line.
“If we knew why this was happening, we’d stand a chance of figuring out who’s behind it. Until last evening, I was under the impression this was a simple recovery mission.” Rod’s fist thumped the seat.
“Recovery mission? Okay, now I’m totally lost.” Val swiped a trembling hand across her forehead, brushing the hair that had adhered to the sudden perspiration. “Why don’t we just go to the nearest police station and let them handle this? Or the embassy if you really are a prince.” Or the Funny Farm for her…
“Oh, he’s a prince all right,” said Livingston. “You can count on that. As well as the fact that a lot of M—er, people are going to be upset if anything happens to him. And you.”
She pinched herself again—just to check.
Still awake.
The blare of a semi’s horn as it passed confirmed it.
She looked in the mirror. Yep, that most definitely was her. Behind the wheel of her old Sentra, barreling down a two-lane highway with Rod and a talking seagull as her passengers, toothpaste and a cup of coffee only a wish on the horizon.
© Judi Fennell, Sourcebooks Casablanca, 2009
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So, my question for you all, how many books makes a good series? Do they start to run out of steam after a while? Do you lose interest in them? What keeps the series exciting and fresh, and keeps you wanting more?
WILD BLUE UNDER—book 2 in the Mer Series—in stores November 2009!
The underwater kingdom is his as soon as he claims his queen…
Rod Tritone has the looks and charm to snag any queen he wants for his Mer kingdom, but unfortunately, it's not up to him. As fate would have it, the one woman destined to rule with him is terrified of water…
She lives in land-locked Kansas and has no idea she's a princess…
Valerie Dumere thinks Rod is gorgeous and irresistible—but why does he keep insisting she has another side to herself that only he can show her?
Somehow, Rod has to prove to her who she really is. But when she finds out the truth, will she ever forgive him?
Buy: Wild Blue Under
About the Author
Judi Fennell is an award-winning author. Her romance novels have been finalists in Gather.com's First Chapters and First Chapters Romance contests, as well as the third American Title contest. She spends family vacations at the Jersey Shore, the setting for some of her paranormal romance series. She lives in suburban Philadelphia, PA.
Giveaway: 2 sets of Judi’s book so far are up for grabs. That means two lucky individuals can win a copy of each book: In Over Her Head and Wild Blue Under. Open to US and Canadian readers only. Enter by answering Judi's question about book series. One entry per relevant comment. Multiple entries allowed. Ends November 30, 2009.
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Healing Luke is a modern day retelling of the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast. It’s quick and lighthearted with a few gems revealed towards the end on love and relationships.
Luke Morgan was on a boat when it blew up leaving him with burns, one eye, and no thumb on one hand. He feels his life is ruined forever and is scarred to go to his occupational therapist for fear of failing. Angry and bitter, Luke is sinking fast and his brother and dad have no idea how to help him cope.
Abby Stanford is visiting Florida on what should have been her honeymoon. She’s doing all the trips and outings they had planned, including snorkeling alone. She meets Luke and is surprised and hurt by his antagonism. An occupational therapist herself, albeit with a different focus than what Luke needs, Abby longs to be useful and to help.
Luke watches his brother Aaron flirt with Abby and jealousy rears its ugly head. He wants Abby for himself but is no longer confident of his appeal to women and to one woman in particular.
I loved the workings of the Morgan family: Luke, withdrawn and wounded; Aaron, flirtatious and outgoing; Bart, quiet and unassuming. Abby was such a great fit with them and I really enjoyed seeing that in a romance.
Rating: 3.5 Stars
Buy: Healing Luke
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As you probably know, Meg Cabot is the author of the Princess Diaries series. This set of books was made popular by two movies, 
and 
, starring the beautiful and lively Anne Hathaway as Mia Thermopolis. This modern fairy tale is at an end with the release of the last book, 
, in Mia's high school career. Cabot adds, "I really didn't plan anything beyond when she was 18."
by the Princess of Genovia Mia Thermopolis, was written with help from Meg Cabot and is available for purchase as well. Proceeds of this novel go to Greenpeace. The plot is about a young woman, Finn, who wishes to help her pregnant sister become financially well off, as the true father has run off. The plan is to abduct a wealthy gentleman and hold him for ransom. Set in England 1291.
