What I Learned Reading Courtney Milan's PROOF BY SEDUCTION

The Story

Jenny Keeble survives by posing as a gypsy fortuneteller saying the things her clients want to hear. One of her clients, a vulnerable young man, brings his skeptical older cousin to prove to him of her validity. The cousin, Gareth Carhart, Marquess of Blakely, sees her as nothing more than a charlatan to bilk his cousin of money. 


To prove her spiritual validity, she challenges Blakely with tasks to enable him to win the heart and hand of a random woman chosen at a ball. Ned, the cousin, does everything he can to ensure that Blakely's tasks succeed. The results? All three find their world view and self-image challenged.


From A Reader's Perspective


Several pages passed before I warmed up to Milan's style of writing. Initially, I found the characters rather bleak and almost unappealing, but then the story unfolds...


Reading Milan's Proof of Seduction can compare to viewing a simple spiderweb. The characters stories all interweave and very slowly, Milan lets out silken thread to weave light into these characters. I especially loved Jenny: not for all the love in the world would she let go of her personal ideals. By the end of the story, I admired Jenny and found in her an amazingly strong female character I'd remember for some time. 


What I Learned as a Writer


Subplots = good in the correct hands.


Milan wrote as if this was a stand-alone, a rarity among romance writers these days. She literally wove three stories using the character Jenny as the center (even though the two characters in the subplots are related to Blakely) and used Blakely to spin the threads out. Do I make sense?


Jenny stood at the center of each story: she's the one who draws that character out: Ned, fighting debilitating depression, Laura, fighting insecurity and filled with self doubt, and finally Gareth, a man who takes his responsibility so seriously he's lost himself within his own life. 


Milan could easily have written a linear novel, leaving Ned and Laura to sequels. By including Ned and Laura's stories as a whole, the characters of Jenny and Gareth become multi-dimensional. The subplots bring layering to a rather simple and oft-told story. This layering of subplots sets apart Milan's story from all the other "young woman driven to larceny in desperation" stories. From here I derive my own lesson.


I've read too many books where the subplots set up sequels, with Milan I've learned how a subplot should actually bring depth to a novel. The subplots actually complement the main story and assist it to a satisfactory end. As a writer, I need to not assume that my book needs or deserves a sequel. If I introduce a secondary story, I need to ensure that I dovetail it into the main story: it should complement the story, enhance the main story.


BTW, I wouldn't mind reading more of Ned, if Milan chooses. I loved that character and the way Milan dealt with his depression....but that's another blog post about the creation of minor characters.


Thanks, Ms. Milan, for a wonderful lesson.

Goals for Week of June 28

Well. With last week totally a waste and none of my goals accomplished, I need to take a deep breath and start again. I experienced really bad writer's block caused by stress and uncertainty of our adopting our Lovely Boy. I've written two parts on the adoption process and am feeling the stress being to lift. While writing the first part of the adoption blogs, I labored over every word. The second part just flew and, by the time I finished it, I feel relieved.

My goals for the week really resemble last week's:

1. Word count: 2500 words by Friday morning (we think Lovely Boy's coming for the weekend)

2. Out of Genre Reading: continue James Rollins' Amazonia with attention on story pacing (lost the book last week...found out under my chaise)

3. In Genre Reading: read the new Tessa Dare

4. Blog: Wednesday's topic: What I learned from Courtney Milan's Proof By Seduction and Friday's writing exercise...I want to develop the Haunted House one step further.  Tuesday is scheduled already (Part 3 of my Adoption Process series) and I've roughly sketched something out for Thursday.

Reason for Writer's Block: The Adoption Process Part 2

I'm facing my third day of writer's block. I'm trying to work through it by typing out the emotions behind it...and the cure is on!

Well.

When we last left the Adoption Process, I wrote about events that took place in December of 2009. I'm still in December of 2009.

When we called on Monday after the Adoption Fair, our social worker went cross-eyed as we told her of our encounter with the Lovely Boy.

"But," she said. "You want siblings! You want young!"

Yes, but what we want and what God planned? Two different things. She shrugged and said she'd contact Lovely Boy's social worker and start the ball rolling. This was Monday.

On Thursday, the school secretary pulled me out of my class to take an emergency phone call. Three children who fit our profile to a "T" needed emergency placement. Thus began the longest 24 hours of our life/marriage.

Hubby and I went back and forth on the phone trying to decide what to do. These kids needed us NOW as an emergency placement and we felt strongly that Lovely Boy would find a home, pronto. After all, Lovely Boy was so awesome. The next day - after we said no to LB and hello 3-kids, we were told that the kid would not come to us under an emergency placement and we would proceed using the usual procedure.

Now, it's like six days until Christmas and these three kids - removed from an adoption situation that wasn't working out - were going to spend Christmas in two separate foster homes and not with a loving family like us. I was BEYOND upset.

After the first of the year, Lovely Boy became the first child of the year featured on Wednesday's Child and we sat down to hear the good, the bad, and the ugly about the three kids (it's the first step after matching: it's the full reveal).

The news seemed mix. The kids had issues, but all workable. Sure, they were in therapy, but all foster kids are. We were handed 1" thick files to read on each kid. Hands were shaken and off we went to read up on the kids and make the next decision. We were given a week to do so.

Reading those files? Nightmare. The three kids were actually in three separate group homes. All three went to various therapists (every other week, just for the kids we'd have three separate therapy sessions and the week in between? FIVE separate therapy sessions not including the family and transition therapy sessions). Plus, one of the kids had an anger issue that frightened their classmate. One was ADHD. One wasn't speaking yet.

And nobody queried about Lovely Boy despite a wonderful push for his adoption on local television.

When I looked through the adoption folders for the second time, I saw my life literally stop: I'd need to quit my job in order to schlep these kids to all of their therapy sessions. How would I handle both an angry child and an ADHD child at the exact same time? I knew that I'd be trapped at home with these three kids while hubby only had to deal with them for a few hours in the evening and on the weekends. I pictured my marriage: my dealing with these kids by myself and then hubby coming home to the kids and an unhappy wife.

And Lovely Boy wasn't leaving my mind. How was he feeling? Did he think of us? Did he wonder what happened to us?

I felt I let him down.

As a couple, we chose to not pursue the three children. I felt horrible. I felt awful. I cried. But I wasn't the right mother for those kids. I just wasn't. Call it selfish, but I wasn't the right mother for those three children.

And I couldn't stop thinking of Lovely Boy.

After we turned them down, we quickly agreed to follow up on LB. Our social worker  didn't understand and thought us nuts: he wasn't what we initially wanted.

I couldn't stop thinking of my lovely, Lovely Boy.

Reason for Writer's Block: The Adoption Process Part 1

I can't write today. I try and try. It's just not happening. I've done every trick that usually gets the juices going, but nothing worked.

Then I realized the issue: I'm waiting for the adoption social worker to call: he's suppose to bring our foster child over to show him our home and to discuss rules and expectations. It's now 5:12 and still no call. So, now I have to wait to find out if they'll come on Sunday morning for their visit or maybe earlier...or maybe later. The waiting makes me edgy and unsettled. I feel unfocused and restless.

When David and I decided to start the adoption process. We deliberately chose to go the public route through LA County. We went through all the mandatory classes, opened our home to both county and state  foster workers, and then started the waiting game. Waiting for The Call.

We don't want babies. It's not a lifestyle decision as much as it's a decision based on the incredible need for parents willing to take sibling sets and older children. David and I opted for a sibling set profile: get it all done at once. LA County did flips and we were immediately invited to an adoption event as soon as our approval went through.

An adoption fair resembles a mosh between a carnival and a pet adoption fair. Kids walk around playing games and potential parents trail after them trying to glean information from them. It's depressing.

David and I felt helpless at the whole process of this "fair" thing until we found the booth for boardgames. Well. We LOVE boardgames - got a whole room in the house devoted to board games. David plunked his butt into a chair and whipped out Kerplunk! and Connect Four. I sat at the next booth playing Uno. As kids walked by we invited to sit with us and play. It's so much easier to talk to kids if you do something with them. When David or I found a kid we liked, I'd jump up and run to find the social worker to discuss their availability (a trick we learned from the county parenting classes). After coming back from such a run, I found David sitting with a young man (I placed him at about 12ish).

Within a matter of minutes, we were in love. Serious love.

As with any love situation, problems immediately jumped up: at 13 (he turned 14 in February). he wasn't within our profile range (we wanted young like 6-8) nor was he a sibling (we wanted 2-3). But we loved him. We genuinely loved him.

At the end of the fair, pizza's offered. This lovely young man invited us to eat with him. Did I tell you we loved him? We loved him. We sat, ate pizza, he shared his cupcake with me (still have the topper), we told him to stop trying to sell himself on us. We loved him.

But he wasn't within our profile.

The "Stalking" of Authors

In her now-infamous Twitter rant, Alice Hoffman tweeted that she "doesn't have fans, [she] has readers". For months now that comment bugged me so much that now I find myself questioning the tweets I send to my favorite authors.

Starting in childhood, I followed authors by writing them letters, researching their lives via the library, scanned the talk show lists thoroughly in the hopes of seeing one of my idols, and scoured the newspapers at the public library in search of mentions in various book sections.

Some kids worshiped KISS, I worshipped Laura Ingalls Wilder. During the summers, my friends lived at the beach while I lived at the library reading everything I could by Lois Lowry. and Louisa Mae Alcott My girlfriend wore Journey t-shirts and me? I made a t-shirt with a picture of a horse with the caption "Trixie Forever".

Yes, I was a cool kid....not. However, happy memories fill my childhood thanks to my favorite authors. I spent summers on a horse ranch with Trixie Beldon. Harriet The Spy and I kept journals of our friends' activities. I vowed to not fly in the house along with Annabel and mentally held her hand when Gloria left. When life dished me pain during those awkward teen years, Jo March sympathized. With books nearby, I never felt alone.

Now, 40 years later, I still will read a book simply because a favored author wrote the thing. Good, bad, or ugly, I support my favorite authors even though I trip myself up when I finally get to meet them:

• I've driven five hours and spend the night in a podunk town just to meet Laurie King...and then suffered through shyness that prevented me from asking my questions. I blushed horrifically when the store owner offered to snap a picture.
• I stood in line for over an hour just to hear Jasper Fforde and then couldn't remember my name when it came for him to sign my books.
• Steve Hockensmith, I simply adore, but my close friend had to talk me into taking a picture with him. 
• I won't go into the happy dance I did when I realized Tasha Alexander adores Firefly just like I do...and she tweets back to my shock.

And the list of embarrassments goes on and on.

When Hoffman made her comment, I stopped in my tracks. Thanks to the Internet, I write to my favorite authors. I tweet them on Twitter. I comment on their blogs. I don't see myself just as a "reader", I see myself as a supporter...and isn't that what a fan is?

Thanks to my love of fiction throughout my life, I still seek escape from the sometimes painful realities of my life. I squee when Roarke seduces Eve, I whisper "go girl" when Emily defies her mother and learns Greek while solving her husbands death. I hold the hand of Old Red while he mourns his lost love and I cheer when Big Red finally publishes his writings. The characters my favorite authors create keep my company in those dark hours of life.

The Hoffman comment turned my genuine love of these characters and my pleasure in supporting my favorite authors into a feeling of stalking...good thing I don't like her writing.

Writing Goals for the Week of June 22

Ah...I love summer vacation: 12 weeks of nothing but self-absorption. It's good to be an underpaid and under-appreciated teacher. 

My writing goals are simple:

1. Word count: 1500 words by Friday afternoon. ( I don't write on the weekends: that's family time)

2. Out of Genre Reading: continue James Rollins' Amazonia with attention on story pacing.

3. In Genre Reading: re-read Tasha Alexander's And Only to Deceive

4. Blog: Wednesday's topic: What I learned from Mary Balogh's A Secret Affair and Friday's writing exercise...I'm not sure yet what I want to do. Tuesday and Thursday - if I write for those days are always random topics. Tuesday is scheduled already and I've roughly sketched something out for Thursday.

I'm keeping it simple this week as we have adoption stuff with Matthew. He and his social worker will visit one evening to see the house and talk about family expectations. I need to do a good scrubbing of the place and I don't want too high of writing goals to put stress on both situations. Plus. I really need to start my prep work for next Fall's school year. 

I'm a Hobbiest, Not a Writer

When I think of a "real" writer, I mentally "see" someone who eats/drinks/sleeps all the while they type. They walk through life writing on anything they find: every experience provides a prompt.  A writer will die if they can't put their thoughts down on paper. A writer cannot imagine doing anything else in life.

Me?

I'm a hobbiest. I keep my writing goals small and I probably spend way more time researching than actually writing on my project. I agonize over story structure and scene placement. I labor over character profiles and endlessly search for photographs for visual references. I'm far more caught up in the process of writing than in the actual writing itself.

I still see myself as a hobbiest.

I stand on the outside of Twitterland and live vicariously through various writers who seem to eat/breath/drink the written word. I just don't fit in with most writers. It doesn't take me all day to write 1000 words - I can write that in two hours, easy. Most Twitter writers agonize over their word count and I think something's wrong with me.

Recognizing my hobbiest status takes tremendous pressure off my back: I don't agonize every word and couldn't give a fig for my word count. I don't fantasize about publishing my work and I only remotely dream of having Colleen Lindsay represent me. Just because I lull myself to sleep by imagining scenes from my book does not mean that I'll write them down in the morning. And so what if I highlight my favorite passages in books written by Tessa Dare or Mary Balogh...I'm still a hobbiest.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.