The Cold Hard Ugly Truth

Well, hello to you who are still with me. I can't believe it's been so long since I've been here. Yes, I did finally finish the book I'd been working on last fall. Eleven days ago--the day before Valentine's Day. And I was worried I wouldn't finish before Thanksgiving.

For those of you who are wondering, yes, my mother finally received her diagnosis--it is Alzheimers. Mild to moderate leaning more toward moderate heading into severe. Needless to say, it's been a long winter.

I realize it won't get any easier, and I've learned to take one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time because I can't really do anything else. I've had fights with my father, with God, and myself, because I don't really understand why I've been saddled with this responsibility on top of everything else I have to bear. But what am I going to do? Walk away? It would be soooo easy. Just pack it up and head back to Rhode Island. But you and I know I won't do that. I'm a good daughter.

Never Give Up, Never Surrender!

 My Monster

Monster, (who's 12 now and playing every sport imaginable -- she went from just volleyball, to basketball, now field hockey, track starts tomorrow, and softball in April) Monster and I were having a conversation about her so-called friends. You know, those little witches in middle school who just have to make fun of everyone and everything. She's been having a problem because she's not hip. Okay, what's the word these days--with it? Groovy? I have no idea. They think she's not cool enough because she doesn't have the right shoes, the right phone, the right sports equipment, the right mom. I'm doing the best I can, but I can't give her everything she wants.

Anyway, the other night the conversation turned ugly and I lost it. Monster was complaining about these girls and how they're so petty and back-stabbing and just fucking nasty. To HER! My daughter! My perfect, beautiful, sweet, athletic, smart, funny kid. Short of slapping every single one of them across the face, and getting kicked out of school, I told her, "Nolite te bastardes carborundorum."

Don't let the bastards grind you down.*

She looked at me with "the face". You know the one. Like I was from Alpha Centauri. I said, "Hey, if you think about it, five years from now, these people won't matter. Ten years from now, you won't even remember half of them. Twenty years from now they'll be a distant memory, like a movie you watched when you were little. Just keep on doing what you're doing, get good grades, have fun playing your sports, and take the laundry downstairs." I got the big sigh in return. But like the good girl SHE is, she took the laundry downstairs. She won't think about what I said now, but she'll remember it when the shit really hits the fan.

But isn't that what it's all about in this rat race? Just do what you gotta' do to keep your nose clean, your head on straight, and make it until retirement. Hah! I know there's more to life than just that. Every day when I take my mother's dog out to the back forty, I see the deer crossing through the meadow, the geese making their flight to wherever they're going, the robins are back, the daffodils are up. I see the simplicity in what God gave us and I try, try so very hard to keep from losing it. Some days it works. Others not so much but what are you going to do?

I suppose I could cry and lament and gnash my teeth and just make my friends miserable with the poor-poor-pitiful me scenario. But why bother? They don't really care. Honestly, they're just glad they're not living my life. You know how I know that? One of them told me. She said, "I don't know how you keep it together. I know I couldn't do it. I'm glad I don't have to." Yeah, we don't talk much anymore.

The Cold Hard Ugly Truth

Yup, this is my blog now. My writing blog, where I'm supposed to dish on all things creative. How I'm supposed to wow you with fabulous bits of information to help you in your writing endeavors. This is a far cry from when I started out. But hey, life's messy.

So, here's my advice for today (God knows I might not be back for another six months)--Just keep on trucking. Do what you gotta' do to get through the day. If you only write 50 words, so be it. If you open your word.doc and stare at it for a half hour, then close it up again, so be it. If one Saturday, you manage 2500 words and on Monday realize they're all crap, so be it. Just keep working at your craft.

And I know my last blog post said almost the exact same thing, but it's true and bears repeating. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Or fingers to keyboard and one day you'll actually write The End. It was a long hard winter, but I finally finished the damn book. I took a week off to clean my house and then started on the next one.

Why? Because I'm a writer and writers tell stories. That's my job. It's what I do. It's who I am. And no one will keep me from doing the thing that I love. Not God, not my mother or the damn disease that's eating her soul, not anyone.

If I can get through it, so can you. I told you all this just in case you wonder why you're writing--when you get another rejection, when your sales take a dive, when life slings crap in your direction and you're too overwhelmed to duck. Just remember Nolite te bastardes carborundorum. And me stuck in the life that I don't think I deserve.

Don't let the bastards grind you down.


Anne Gallagher (c) 2017


* Margaret Atwood The Handmaid's Tale

Structure/ Formula/ Craft

As a writer in three different genres, I am constantly aware of how I need to structure the composition of my book. Not by content, but by the way the paragraphs, scenes, and then

chapters "build" the body of the work.

Perhaps it is part of my individual "voice" in these different genres, but in each I am writing to a particular audience. Each person reads differently. Each genre takes that into consideration. Each writer should know the "rules" of writing in their chosen genre before they begin.

That said, as a Regency romance novelist, I structure my book with ten-page chapters. No more, no less. Two person POV plot.  80-95 thousand words. I always have an epilogue. However, it's a very circuitous journey to the inevitable Happily Ever After. Give the readers what they want.

As a writer of contemporary romance, I find my page counts for chapters are lower. Same word count. And I do tend to like my epilogues. However, I write only in the main character's POV. Close third person.

I also dabble in murder mysteries. I write separate scenes within a chapter with page breaks and no transitions. Words counts are lower -- 35-50K. No epilogue, but with a cliffhanger ending. (Hopefully, to lure the reader into the next book.) Again, I only use the main character's POV.

New writers may ask -- Is it necessary to structure a book? Why can't I just write it the way I want?

Well, you can. It's your book. You can write it any way you want. But readers want certain things from books and if yours is not structured properly, well, it could bite you in the end.

Put it this way--you wouldn't build a house without a proper foundation. For that you need cement, lumber, nails, screws, big tools, and a set of blueprints. Blueprints, like writing "rules" are necessary. If you don't have them when you start, sure enough, by the end of building your structure, something will be off and then you'll have to find the mistake and fix it. Sometimes, you have to go all the way back to the beginning. (My father built a house once without blueprints. It took him twenty years to finish it.)

Tell me -- Do you think about the structure of your story before you write? Do you follow the rules? Did you know the rules before you started writing? And if you do know the rules, do you break them?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2016

The Ambiguous Ending

Okay, so here's the story -- my friend sent me her finished manuscript. One of her requests was that I take a look at her ending -- was it too ambiguous and should it be stronger. So, I looked. Oh yes, it totally needed to have a definite ending. This book was the third of the trilogy. I have been honored to read all three and this author put the MC through so much pain and heartache, she needed to find a little happiness at the end. And truth be told, as a reader, I needed the closure.

I finished my latest project a couple of weeks ago and I sent my friend my final draft. My novel is the first in a new series. It has an ambiguous ending. When the MC rides off into the sunset with the love of his life, we still don't actually know what is going to happen. A bad thing to do if you're a romance writer.

However, if you've read the last four books in the Reluctant Grooms series, you'll know exactly what happens to him, and why. In this new series, I'm turning back time so-to-speak and showing how he got there.

I don't mind that I've written an ambiguous ending. And I don't think my readers will mind either. They already know what happens. I'm taking a chance, I know, with new readers, but I hope if they enjoy this new book, they'll follow along as the rest of the series unfolds.

Because by the final book, he does finally get his own closure and it all ties in to the other series. 

Having said that, as a romance writer, we all know the rules--a Happily Ever After ending must be provided. My friend was not writing romance, but literary fiction with a semi-romantic bent. (I guess that could be a genre.) Her main character was not searching for love per se, but on the hunt to find herself, and I suppose if love came along, that would be great.

HOWEVER, as a reader, I placed my own EXPECTATIONS on the ending of my friend's book. I WANTED the MC to find happiness with a man. And that was not my friend's intention. Now, because we've been friends and colleagues for a couple of years, she trusts my critique and as always I told her this was her book and whatever crits I gave, she could take or leave. I don't know what she's done with the ending. But I'll find out when I read the published version.

Anyway, how do you feel about ambiguous endings? And I don't mean cliff-hangers, I mean no final resolution for the main character? As a reader, are you satisfied if the MC is satisfied without resolution? Or do you feel cheated by your own expectations of the story?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2016

Writing to the Muse

Good morning. Here's something I haven't talked about in a really long time. Writing to the muse. Or in my case, when I get a bunch of free time and I can slack on

"You wrote that?"

the housework, and just write to my heart's content. Those times just don't come along very often. You know exactly what I'm talking about. The ever elusive "time" when you "work" outside of writing. (I consider MY writing, what I do when I sit at my desk, ass in chair, hands on keyboard, WORK. See what I did there. MY WORK.)

However, with ill and aging parents, a man still sleeping in my kitchen, and Monster who wants to go to the pool every day, I also "work" outside of writing. It takes a considerable amount of finagling these days just to find time to take a shower.

I follow a "school" schedule because of my volunteer "job" as the gift card coordinator, so in the winter I can only write in blocks of time during the day. We have 10 days for Thanksgiving break. 14 Days for Christmastide. 10 for Spring. During those blocks of time over the last three years, I have spent remodeling/painting/landscaping my house. So, it all boils down to summer writing.

I hate to say it, even on my last official vacation 3 years ago (I can't believe it's been so long...) I wrote 130k words over six weeks. I confess, it was so cold at the beach, I was grateful Monster found two friends across the street and went to the beach with them.

I have to tell the truth, I royally screwed myself when I came up with the concept for this new series I'm writing. It interweaves characters from the first series into this one. (Last night I realized I'm going to have to edit most of the Reluctant Grooms when I finish with these stories, so the connections are seamless.) And also answers some of the questions I've been asked by readers to clarify. I guess. I still don't really know what the hell I'm doing. I had a what if moment four years ago and said "Hey, why not? Has it ever been done before? I'm willing to test my boundaries of structure within a novel." What the hell was I thinking?

However, I must also confess, I am enjoying getting to know these characters. They have sparked my interest and curiosity, and quite honestly, are not the people I thought I knew. So that's nice. They've been keeping me on my toes.

Writing to the muse -- or -- when all your shit is done and you have some free time.

Do you keep a strict writing schedule? Do you find time even though there is none? Do you have a muse?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2012

Is It Manic or Maniac?

Well, since LAST week, I put another 20k words on my latest WiP. However, with that comes uncertainty, sore shoulders, and swollen ankles. I've been writing like a maniac in manic mode, or maybe I should say panic mode.

This could be Henry

Panic because I just want to finish this damn book. You can't even know how much I want to. Finish. This. Book. If I could just finish it, I could start the next one. I know, I know, and then fight the same battle with the next one.

I've gotten through all the backstory. I pushed past the first of several hurdles for Catherine and Henry. I initiated the final climax. And I can see the end in sight.

The problem is, I'm not sure where to stop. Do I stop at the climax and leave a cliff-hanger ending. Or do I wrap it all up? It is a series after all, but the books do follow each other in sequence, so in essence, each book is a cliff-hanger. (See, panic. How did I create such a mess?)

I don't know. And I won't know how this first book ends until I get there. Perhaps today. (Wouldn't that be nice?)

Also, I realize this post is fluffy, and I only wrote it so I can have 667 posts in my feed. I had 666 posts written since I started this blog, and that number always creeps me out, so that's why I wrote this post.

Anyway, I hope you have a great week. I'll be writing. What about you? What are you doing this week?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2016

Full Steam Ahead

Sorry about all the "ship" analogies, but it's summer and I grew up on the beach. Not the same, I know, however, beach=ocean=ships. (That's the way my brain works.)

Well, since last week, I wrote 7000 words on my languishing Regency romance. I finally found my way through the weeds (a waitress metaphor) and cleaned up the first seven chapters and added another two. Yay me.

What I discovered this week while writing, was that in this story I have become a bare bones writer. I got down basic setting, dialogue, and that's pretty much it. I think the problem is.  I've had this series in my hard drive for 4 years. I know it inside and out.

There is no surprise. The characters all have their predestined story lines figured out. There's no room for unexpected character diversions. Nothing will happen as I write that will make me say "Oh, wow. I never saw that coming."

See, people, real people, surprise me all the time. I never know what they're going to do or say. It's a constant head game.

I think characters should do the same thing. In each of my contemporary romances, when I couldn't figure out where the story was going, I usually started a fire, or blew something up, or had a car crash. The characters would have to "react." Surprise!

But this first novel in the Regency series has so much backstory, there's no room for surprise. Well, yes, little surprises like a sudden case of "Soldier's Nerves" (PTSD-yes, they had that way back then but it wasn't called that), or the fact that Stoney has to return to the Peninsula. (He was supposed to stay and marry Mercy.) Or the fact that Henry and Olivia are playing a game of cat and mouse. (Every time he goes to find her, she's not there. Very frustrating, but a great second story line -- will they or won't they get together?)

I knew I needed help to correct this problem, and I wanted to do something that would bring back my spark, my zing, the SURPRISE that I would feel while writing again.

Just for fun, I decided to pick up a Regency romance novel and read it. Something I haven't done in nearly 10 years. Why don't I read, you may ask? Because I'm afraid -- afraid of plagiarizing, afraid of stealing story lines, character names, incidents. I want MY books to reflect MY ideas, MY creativity, MY characters. It's just my way not to read anymore.

Anyway, it was published in the 90's, and written by a really famous Regency author.
Let me just say, I nearly threw it across the pool. Head-hopping, purple prose, -ly words by the ton filled the first five pages. I couldn't finish the first chapter.

What surprised me about this book was that it used to be one of my favorites. I must have read it twenty times. When I started it by the pool I was surprised how disgusted I was with the writing.

Does that make me a snob? I don't know. I know my reading habits have changed over the years. I also know that publishing has changed over the years. The question I have is--

Are we more sophisticated or less sophisticated readers than we used to be?

While I was playing with my options in Word, I ran across the "Readability Statistics" something that I turned off a long time ago. Just for fun I turned it on again and was shocked when it finally appeared. My Flesch-Kinkaid Reading level was Grade 3.9.

Let me just say WOW. That hurt. I like to pride myself on the fact that I'm pretty smart. Not rocket science, but I can hold my own in pretty much any arena.

So does this Flesch-Kinkaid Reading level thing mean I'm not as smart as I think I am?
Or
The novel I'm writing is not as intellectually stimulating as I think it should be?
Or
Should I just get over it because technically it's just a first draft?

What do you think? Do you ever wonder if you're really as smart as you think you are? Do you watch Jeopardy? Do you read older books and wonder what the hell the publisher was thinking?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2016

Forced Stop

Last month I wrote a post whining about the Blogging Conundrum-- do I? Don't I? Does it help within the sphere of publishing? Yes, no, maybe. There's no right or wrong answer, basically just do it if you want to, don't if you don't.

Last Wednesday, I was given the opportunity to put my priorities in order. Yeah, in the giant sphere of life, blogging isn't all that important.

On Wednesday morning at 9:38, Monster's father fell off the roof cleaning the gutters. I know exactly what time it happened because I had just come out of the house with the broom to sweep the stuff into the bin. I heard stumbling on the roof and then I watched him fall. Twelve feet from the roof onto the cement of the carport. It was a James Bond movie. All of a sudden this guy is landing in my driveway.

I called the EMT's they took him in. He broke both of his feet. Yes, BOTH of his feet. Left ankle, right heel. Instead of falling, he jumped, and landed straight down on his feet like a cat. The doctor told me on Sunday morning, Robert's prognosis is a year, at best, before he'll be able to stand on his broken heel. He will never walk right again.

This is a total guilt trip--I told him the gutters needed to be done. He's a roofer, that's what he does. Or did, until he took disability. But I knew he had experience on a roof.

I've had to wrangle the insurance claims, the Social Worker case manager, the hospital doctors and nurses, the PT guys, the medical equipment company who is coming to my house to bring a hospital bed, wheelchair, commode, walker, and other assorted items that a complete invalid might need. I've had to set up appointments for future care, and wrangle transportation to and from the doctor's office.

I've had to arrange for all this because Robert will not be allowed to go to a rehab facility.
The insurance company will not pay for rehab because the doctor said Robert was in for observation, not as a patient. That's a whole other side line I won't get into. It was HOURS of bureaucracy. Yes, let's thank the doctor for that as well.

*Pause for the telephone* I am writing this on Saturday morning.

Robert just called and said they were going to release him today. With no equipment in the house. His doctor gave me a follow up call two minutes later and said they were going to release him today. I explained to him the equipment wasn't here-- there was a long dramatic pause-- and then he said, "Well, we'll see if we can get it sorted out." I also explained to him that Robert needed to be taken home by ambulance on a stretcher because his (the doctor's orders) were that Robert was NOT supposed to be on his feet at all. Obviously. The doctor said, "Well, we'll see."

*Pause again for telephone.*

The lovely Ginger from After-Care at the hospital said she spoke to the Doctor who is releasing Robert today. I asked about the equipment. She said she'd get back to me. Fifteen minutes later she returned my call and said she spoke to the medical supply company who is bringing the bed and said they couldn't get out here until Monday. Not five minutes later, I received another call from the medical supply company that said they couldn't get out here with the bed until Monday.

I am writing this next on Sunday morning.

Robert now needs to have a bed downstairs. Unfortunately, the only way to bring Monster's full downstairs, is if I clean the entire house, move furniture, and spring clean at the same time. So, that is what I did, from Friday night into Saturday morning. It looks like I may even be able to paint upstairs now that he's living on the main floor. (I have to look at the bright side somewhere.)

Robert is now in bed, (which I will also have to move BACK upstairs tomorrow morning before the medical supply company arrives with the hospital bed.) He is happily encased in purple haze of pain medication. I am trying to figure out which closet to clean next.

Tomorrow brings a whole other nightmare of phone calls and furniture.

In the larger scheme of things, blogging is NOT important when the fit hits the shan.

There's a line from an old song

"... don't know where, don't know when, but I know we'll meet again some sunny day."



Anne Gallagher (c) 2016

The Blogging Condundrum

I fell into blogging just by sheer luck. Way back when, when Monster was in "play-school" (or Pre-K I guess is what they call it), a mommy told me that as a writer I should start a blog. I asked, "What is that?" I had no idea, having come into computer life very late. She said I would benefit from it as a writer.

Seven years later, here I am. It seems odd to me that I've been in the blogosphere for that long. Mind you, I'm not prolific. I don't share the secrets of the ages, I don't expound on glorious new ideas or even generally have anything important to say. I guess, I basically use it as a diary of sorts and perhaps share my opinions.

I do like to blog. I have friends here in this virtual world that I like to keep up with. I learn things. I have discussions about writing that I can't have anywhere in the "real world". The problem is, and I hate to admit it, for some time now I just don't want to do it anymore.  

I'm a writer. It's my job. Lucky for me, it's also my passion. I would rather spend fourteen hours a day in my made-up world than do anything else. Blogging hurts my bottom line of hours that I can actually write. I liken it to Pinterest. I went on there to pin one picture last Sunday and I ended up spending four hours looking through a billion pins. Blogging is the same thing. I scroll through my feed, check out a post, follow a comment to another post, then end up lost in space. 

Four hours to me is twenty pages. And it's bad enough I lose all track of time when I'm writing that I forget to feed the Monster. (How many times have I heard "I'm hungry. Are you going to make me dinner?") 

As a single parent and a single income earner, every monthly check depends on how many books I sell. More books = more pay. However, if I don't talk about my books no one knows I've written one. Where does one talk about one's books? On the blogs.

For the last few years, I've also been very active at Monster's school volunteering. It's a part-time job. Literally. With no pay. Talk about cutting into writing time. So, in order to make up the time I've lost writing, something else has to go, and that equals blogging. 

I hate the idea of giving it up for good. I really do. I hate the idea of losing friends. And you may say, well, just blog once a month, or only when you have something important to say. Or get on a schedule. Yeah, we all know what happens to schedules in my world. The best laid plans...

Over the course of the last seven years, I've seen very prolific bloggers leave. I always wonder what happened to them. Did they get famous and just don't have the time? Did something happen in their personal life? Did they move their blog to FaceBook? Did they just give up? I don't want to be one of those people. I don't want people wondering "Whatever happened to Anne?"

I've had this discussion several times over the last few weeks with other friends on the blogs. It seems for those of us who have been here for a long time, the allure has faded. We have nothing to say. Or rather, does what we say matter? I haven't had a new blogger join my little group in almost three years. Does that mean I don't want any? No. It just means communication is done differently these days. Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, God knows what else is around the corner. I can't keep up with the blog. How can I keep up with anything else?

I don't really know why I wrote this post. It's on my mind. It's my opinion. I don't need advice. No matter what you say about the blogging conundrum, believe me, I've heard it before. 

Tell me -- How do you feel about blogging? Are you ready to chuck it? Have you found something else to occupy your time? Do you have a schedule? Do you love your blog?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2016

Women of a Certain Demographic

So, I've been working like a fiend to get this book finished. My time has not been my own since school started and the original draft was supposed to have been finished by the end of August. The writing gods mocked me. But now that it is (and has been looked over by my editor and is now with my critique partner) I'm ready to talk about it.

I've decided to release it under my Robynne Rand name as several characters from REMEMBERING YOU appear in DEMOGRAPHIC.

Without further ado...

After losing her job, apartment, and latest friend-with-benefits, prize-winning newspaper journalist Cathryn Parker returns home to Rhode Island and her domineering mother Rita, six Chihuahuas, and the old bedroom she slept in as a kid. Blacklisted for writing an expose on a philandering Senator, Cathryn takes the only job offered her at Providence Woman Monthly, if only to escape her mother's constant disapproval.

When asked to write a piece on the lack of love in the lives of women over a certain age, Cathryn is appalled, as she's part of that demography. To make things worse, the only way to ensure the magazine stays afloat and Cathryn keeps her job is if the article is a hit.

A chance meeting with her brother's best friend, Steve, finds Cathryn battling an emotional roller-coaster. Living under the Disney delusion that someday her prince would come—Steve is the perfect man, everything she's ever wanted—but he carries the physical scars of a bomb blast from Afghanistan and the emotional scars from a fiancée who left him because of it. 

However, when she discovers the secret that her perfect Prince Charming has been hiding, Cathryn makes a life-changing decision, especially as she has her own secret to keep.

*****

The novel is available on Amazon for a limited time for .99  -- It will be available at its regular price on Christmas from  Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, itunes, Gardeners UK, to name a few by Christmas.

If anyone would like an ARC, please let me know. shoreroadpublishing@gmail.com

Anne Gallagher  (c) 2015

And Then It All Fell Apart

So, two weeks ago, I was well on my way to completing my latest WiP. I had the ending outline, knew where it was going, how I was going to get there and then BOOM. It blew up in my face. I had to go back to Chapter 2 to find a conversation thread and as I read it, I realized the plot wasn't going to work.

Talk about a bummer. I took a few days and mulled it over, rethinking the whole thing, hoping maybe I could MAKE it work the way the story was written. Nope. Well, yeah, it could, but it wouldn't be believable. Okay, that's not true, it would have been believable, but only to a certain few. And I don't need bad reviews.

I discussed the problem with two friends who aren't writers and although they agreed that I could probably finish the story the way I wanted, readers would have had to REALLY get behind the premise of love at first sight. And as I thought about it, the main character, Cathryn, wasn't really believing it either. Lots of great internal dialogue, but I think if you have to QUESTION if you love someone, then you probably don't.

Of course it's been a long time since I've been in love and in writing this book, I've had to really dredge up memories that probably should have been left locked up where they were. Obviously, I haven't been lucky at it, and if I had been, I'd probably still be in it. Right?

So now what? Well, for the most part, I'm just too busy to care. Real life has once again taken a nasty turn and I'm knee deep in school crap again. Also, when I write, I like to block out days to get it done. Say Tues Wed Thurs for 6-8 hours per day (not necessarily in that big of a chunk, but split the day into shifts). However, I haven't been able to block off any days in a row.

When do I think the book will be finished? I've now given myself until the end of October. Why? Because I have no choice.

Am I working on something else? Well, yes. I can't not write. I've gone back into the new Regency I started last March. And I've dabbled a little bit with the mystery detective stories again.

Am I freaking out? Yeah, kind of, a little bit. But hey, the way I figure it, it'll get done when it gets done. And hopefully, still in time for Christmas.

So tell me -- What do you do when you're almost at the end and you realize it's not going to work? Do you leave it alone? Or continue to work on it? Or do you make yourself sick on chocolate and pistachio ice cream?

Down to the Wire

Good Morning. I had worked on a blog post over the weekend for today, but then abandoned it. Friday night I was at 68K on my latest WiP and decided to do the dreaded outline. I never outline before I start writing, I just follow where my nose (and characters) lead. However, once I get to the 3/4 mark, I usually give myself a little nod as to where it all ends up.

Friday night I wrote the last plot points, climaxes, and big surprises. I left out the denoument because I'm still not sure what's going to happen at the very, very end. My characters have already thrown me for a loop several times. I figure I'll just wait and see what happens.

I've given myself until the end of September to finish it. Almost 10 days. And you think that would be easy, but I have a sneaking suspicion it's not going to happen. This is the second deadline I've given myself (originally supposed to be finished by the end of August). I NEED to get this done. And not for any reason other than, I'm dying to see how it ends. HAH!

I've put a lot of work into this one, and even though I'm writing the book, my characters have completely taken over the story. Revelations keep popping up and startling me. Don't you just love it when you find out you're totally brilliant/insane? Lol.

Once it's finished, I'll be able to tell you all about it. I hate to jinx myself. Hopefully, next Monday I'll have a cover reveal and back cover copy because once it's finished it's going up for pre-order. I'm very excited about this book. VERY EXCITED. I'll be looking for reader/reviewers so stay tuned.

Tell me -- Do you outline at the end or the beginning or are you a strict pantster? Do your characters surprise you? Do you have moments of brilliance or are you just insane?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

Real Life, Real Writing

Good Morning. Butt in chair, hands on keyboard. That's where I've been. I started writing a new contemporary romance sometime at the end of July, abandoning my mystery detective series. Why, you may ask if I was having fun writing out of my preferred genre.

Because sometime at the end of July, I found a book I had written two years ago sitting on my desk-top hard drive. It was finished and even published, but then I sent it to a writer friend who said, "This basically sucks." You see, I had written the book with very broad strokes and as he said, "There's nothing to push back on. There's no substance, no structure. Yes, it's informative, but there's no STORY."

I was crushed, as this author is someone I highly regard, so I promptly unpublished it and left it alone. When I found it again, I thought, "Hmmmm. I think I'm ready to tackle this. I think I know what to push back on."

Let me digress.

As you may or may not know, I'm a single parent. I had a volatile relationship with Monster's father, who came and went into our lives when ever he felt like it. I'm over the hurt, disappointment, and pain, Monster is relatively well-adjusted, and I decided after ten years, I was ready to look for a man. 

Not so easy. There's a whole lot of stuff I needed to take into consideration with this endeavor, and decided that I would just LOOK and SEE what was out there instead of jumping into the dating pool again. In my little microscopic world, there's no one.

I have no friends with single male friends to set me up with, they're all married. I refuse to do online dating. I don't go to bars or clubs (I think I'm just too old for that now.) We have no family where I could meet a friend of a cousin. Monster attends a private school where everyone is married. No single men anywhere. 

Until Stanley. (Not his real name.) Stanley's children attend school with Monster. He was married and his wife, through circumstances I won't discuss, left him a few years ago. Stanley is in the military and has always been our key-note speaker for our Veteran's Day Celebration. I've always been a sucker for a man in uniform and for the last several years have had a mild crush on him. He's very nice, handsome, and very smart. Fine attributes all.

We've had a few brief encounters at the PTO meetings, Veteran's Day, and volleyball games. He laughs at my jokes and takes me seriously when I discuss serious things. I think we're "friends" now, rather than just mere acquaintances. 

There is no way I would date this man. Not that I wouldn't want to, but life in a private school is a fish bowl and our children don't need to be involved in the gossip. Besides, he hasn't asked me out, and I would never ask him. Just too old-fashioned.

Moving forward...

As I discussed this infatuation with my friend one day, (because what woman doesn't discuss falling in love with her BFF), a whole array of topics were brought to light that I hadn't even considered before. Primarily, how hard it was, as a woman over 50 (!) with a ten year old daughter to find a man who was willing to date her. (I'm not looking for a relationship, just a date.)

As a writer, if I find someone foolish enough to listen to me babble on about plot points and story structure, I will talk their ear off. As my BFF and I discussed Stanley, the root of the new story began to take shape. Conversations about Stanley began to taper off and the story took hold.

My BFF, LOVES this story. She wants me to finish it so she can read it and she's not a big reader. I call her every day to fill her in on where I am in the writing and how I'm going to get to the Happily Ever After. 

After a particularly trying day (stress in my personal life is through the roof), I started discussing progress on the book. My BFF said, "It's so nice you have something to look forward to. You're so happy when you talk about your writing. You love it so much."

Revelation. 

Writing is hard work, and the Regency series eventually became a "chore". I had lost the magic in writing until I stopped writing for "business" and started writing for fun again. Developing the mystery detective series was fun. 

However, this contemporary romance is something I'm particularly excited about as it explores the "plight" of single women everywhere--how they meet men, where they meet men, what women actually want in a man rather than the fantasy they've all dreamt of, and also, what real men are actually looking for in a woman. As we all know, men and women think differently when it comes to relationships and that is what this book is all about.

In case you were wondering, it should be out by Christmas.

Real Life. Real Writing.

Tell me -- Do you pull your stories from real life? Has writing become a "chore"? Have you switched genres to find the fun again?When was the last time you went out on a date?


Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

What I Did on My Summer Vacation

Not a whole lot. Or maybe too much. I can't decide. Monster and I didn't go anywhere this summer so I cleaned the house and wrote a bunch of stuff. Murder mysteries for one, and a contemporary romance for another. Still not finished with any of it -- cleaning or writing. But here are a few pics (because I really don't have a lot to say. School started last week, Monster is playing volleyball, I got roped into more PTO junk and I'm just flat out for the next few weeks.)

So much junk

Before

After (First coat. Looks better with 2 but didn't take pics)

Before it was soooo dark

Now it's soooo bright (again, only 1st coat)

the new color for my dining room

It's dark in the pic, but it looks nice in the room

So, that's what we've been doing.

What I Learned (Am Learning) Writing Murder Mysteries

As an historical romance novelist, my pages are filled with angst, longing, yearning, the promise and hope of love, and the absoluteness of happily ever after. As a first time murder mystery writer -- there's none of that.

First and foremost, I thought writing a murder mystery would be semi-easy. I wouldn't have to do much research on word choices, I could use contractions, I pretty much grew up where the novels are set, and I have a couple of yearbooks where I could pick my character's names from. The plot lines were supposed to be fun -- I had killed a half dozen people in my head over the course of my lifetime. Bad bosses, a couple of frenemies, not to mention nasty ex-boyfriends. How hard could it be?

*cue the laughter*

Research Is Killing Me

Killing people takes guts. It also means you have to know about guts, and physiology, biology, science, chemistry. You need to know where bullets holes go in and out, what happens when a particular body part gets hit by a bullet, the difference between the sizes of bullets to make bigger or smaller holes, and how long it will take to recuperate from said bullet wound. And that's just for starters.

Do we want to talk about poison? Chemical reactions? Deterioration of evidence? Chemical compounds? Knife wounds vs. bullet wounds? Yeah, I didn't think so.

To put it simply, you can't just write whatever you want. People will laugh. Especially people who actually protect this country from bad guys for a living. And I hate being laughed at. So research it is. I'm finding I research when I need to know, not before. Also, what you think is simple common sense, isn't.

For instance, my MC has a gun. The gun has a magazine for the bullets. In researching, I found out that most police officers don't call it a gun, they call it a weapon. They don't have bullets, they have rounds. They don't have magazines, they have clips. (Or vice versa, I forget.) They also don't call cars, cars, they're called vehicles. They also don't generally say "10-4" anymore. Real life isn't Adam 12. (How many of you remember that show?)

Research takes time, and for anyone who wants to write (anything), if you're not going to do the research, don't write the book. (This statement also applies to the blog post I wrote last week. Thanks to VR Barkowski for reminding me.)

Writing About Murder is NOT for Sissies

The first book (novella) I wrote, was this crazy idea I had one day because the characters in my head would not shut up. I said, "Okay, if I get this out, will you please leave me alone?" They all agreed and so I wrote it from start to finish in 17 days. It was a rush, and I felt proud that I did that quickly. (Not exactly a sucky first draft, but after two critique partners read it, I know what's it's missing and where it needs to go.)

The characters begged me to write another story. I figured, hey why not. I can blast out another one. It's summertime after all. I'm on vacation. However, this story was different. The plot was about a cold case murder that had been languishing in the police department for forty years. My MC finally gets a break in the case and he learns pretty much what happened the night of the murder. Suffice it to say, it was not pretty. What the murderers did to this poor girl had me depressed for DAYS. And she is only a character.

I was absolutely distraught because, well, I knew what happened to her long before anyone else did. The problem was, now I had to get it down on paper (laptop). Writing that scene was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to write. In the first book, the murder had already taken place and I only shared the details sparingly throughout. In this book I had no choice but to make the murder scene/sequence as real as I could get it. Yikes.

This book is not going to end with a happy ending or even a clear resolution to the murder. I'm dreading that scene as well, but it will have to be written. Police work does not always bring the bad guys to justice. And that's hard for a writer who's used to writing happily ever afters.

Slitting My Own Throat

Overwriting is the bane of my existence. I want these stories to be tight, well-worded scenes that flow from one chapter to the next. I want the writing to be hard and fast, in your face because that's how I want to write it. That's not the case. I'm finding I'm heavy with dialogue, explaining everything twice (because one character knows something that another character doesn't). And because I'm a pantster I don't follow an outline. Editing is going to be a nightmare because it's all about the clues -- who knows what when. I want to make sure it's all in there. I don't want people to say the story dragged or that they missed something because I inadvertently cut it out.

I also want my characters to sound realistic. One of my biggest challenges is that most cops, most real people of my acquaintance swear. I don't want to offend my readers, not that these books are rife with F-bombs, but peppered with shit, hell, damn it, son-of-a-bitch, bastard, and asshole. In this day and age, are those considered swears? I hear them on tv all the time. And I don't even get HBO. I hear them in the grocery store. I hear them at the gas station. I use them myself.  If my hero gets shot, he's not going to say, "Oh, drat." He's not even going to say, "Damn it!" He's going to use strong language. Right now, I'm leaving everything in. And yes, I've read detective/mystery/thrillers in which no offensive language is used. Amazed and shocked was I that it could be done. But that's not me. It's not my voice. However, when I go through edits, I'm sure most of them will go. It's a fine line between realistic and offensive.


The Kiss of Death

In writing this series of books, (what was I thinking writing a series!) my MC the detective has a deceased wife. She's been gone five years, and only now, since he's met the psychic does he think about women again. He doesn't want to become involved because he thinks he's not good enough. He's a small town detective, she's a once-famous celebrity. He also doesn't think he's ready to let go of his deceased wife. Love, and all its complications, must play a role in these books. Why, you may ask? Because love is the glue that holds people together, whether they're together or not.

I also have several other characters who are in the midst of breaking up or trying to stay together. Why am I sub-plotting all this craziness? Why drag the romance into murder mystery? Because most murders are considered to be crimes of passion. (more research). Passion is the element that lies underneath love and hate. It's all very psychological bouncing passionate murders against passionate lovers and I don't quite understand it all, but I like the idea of it, and well, it's my series, and I'm writing it that way.

Killing My Darlings

Why am I doing this? I'm supposed to be writing another historical series, not messing around with murder. I'm also supposed to be finishing up a contemporary romance I've had kicking around for years. (That I totally promised myself I would do at the beginning of the summer.) Why am I killing myself trying to write books in days rather than months?

Because it's fun.

Writing the historical romance series was fun in the beginning. I had no idea what I was doing. I was just writing, writing, writing, books that I wanted to read because I couldn't find any historical romances that were like Jane Austen's. (I'm sorry, I just don't like Georgette Heyer.)

Writing this detective series is fun for me. I get to challenge myself mentally (research), spiritually (good vs. evil), emotionally (love, hate, death, life), and physically (10-12 hours days because I just can't stop writing). I also have no idea what I'm doing, and so far, I've only let two people read it, so there are no reviews to cry over. (Remember the Kryptonite from last week?)

I also think it's fun because I'm exploring contemporary characters, which I haven't done in almost ten years. I don't have to think about social mores, or social classes, about a society that only exists in history books. I'm right there, in the middle of someone's life, someone I might know (if he actually existed). I'm diving into the depths of what it means to be human, what makes someone who they are, in the here and now, good, bad, and everything in between. I don't have the strict rules of writing historical fiction to get in my way.


So, that's what I've learned. So far.

Tell me -- What genre do you get the most fun out of writing? Do you like the challenge of writing something different or do you stick with what makes you comfortable? Do you have any tips for writing murder mysteries?



Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

5 Important Lessons I've Learned About Writing

With any new job, there's a learning curve. Take waitressing for example -- in the beginning, I just kept my little pad and a pen on me all the time. Over the course of several months, I didn't need the pad and pen anymore, I could remember the order. I could remember customer's names and what they drank. I could get my side-work finished and be out the door come closing time without having to look at the closing list. I think if I ever took another waitress job, it would be second nature. Sort of like riding a bike. I might not want to take a spin, but I remember HOW to do it.

Same with writing. I can't TEACH you POV, or dialogue, or structure, which is why I don't do it on the blog. I've been writing for almost ten years full-time and now it's just stuff I know how to do. Fingers on the keyboard, butt in chair -- GO. I had to practice, and practice makes almost perfect, and now it's just second nature. The way a pianist practices scales.

There are tons of books and articles, and blogs, and videos to learn HOW to write, but you can't really learn it until you actually DO it. You can sit in the restaurant all day long and watch the waitresses, but you won't actually know HOW to waitress until you walk up to that first table and say, "Hi, how are you. Are you ready to order?"

And don't get me wrong, I didn't just write a book and BAM I know how to write. I've read craft books, studied other writers, and blogs, written my million words of shitty first drafts. Those things helped to TIGHTEN my writing, but they didn't actually TEACH me how to write. I just sat down one day and wrote "Chapter One" because that's what I wanted to do.

Jhumpa Lahiri said:

“All writing, all art is just a wild leap off a cliff because there’s nothing to support you. You’re creating something out of nothing, really.  No one’s telling you to do it.  It comes from within, and it’s a very mysterious process, at least for me.  I still don’t understand how I write a story or a book.  I don’t understand how it happens.  I mean, I know it takes time, I know it takes effort, I know it takes lots and lots of drafts and hours, but I still really don’t understand the internal mechanism of how it really happens.”


Lesson # 1
Write what you want to read.

You can't write for the market, the market changes in a heartbeat. Ten years ago, it was all about wizards, and sparkly vampires, two years ago it was all about the shade between black and white. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Write what you can't find in the marketplace. Write what makes you happiest to read. There are other people out there who will want to read it too. I write traditional Jane Austen type Regency romances. They don't have sex and they don't have contractions. I wanted to read something without a heaving bosom and washboard abs on the cover. I couldn't find it. So I decided to write it.

Lesson #2


Write about what you know.

I recently sat in on an online conference and mostly it was about non-fiction. How to make a bazillion dollars writing a book about beet farming. And hey, if you know all there is to know about beet farming and you think there's a market for that idea, then go for it. Write that book. You probably could make a bazillion dollars.

It's the same in fiction -- stick to what you know.  I also write contemporary romances that are set in Rhode Island with crazy ethnic families. WHY? Because that's what I know. You have a penchant for parakeets, you love cozy mysteries, and your Aunt Matilda is the town gossip -- well, there's a book if ever I heard one. You dress up every year for Halloween as Frank Sinatra, noir is your favorite genre, and you would totally love to time travel. Go for it.


Lesson #3

NOLITES TE BASTARDES CARBORUNDORUM.

DON'T LET THE BASTARDS GRIND YOU DOWN.

My favorite quote of all time from Margaret Atwood (THE HANDMAID'S TALE). I've had it on my blog forever. To me it means, no matter what anyone says about your writing, don't let it stop you from writing. Don't let ANYONE stop you from writing. Your mother, husband, BFF, writing teacher. If you're not good now, it doesn't mean you'll never be good. You don't know what you don't know, and practice makes almost perfect. (Nothing is "perfect" but it can be damn near close.)

I recently sent a story to a friend of mine for a quick critique. I thought it was fantastic. I thought I wouldn't have to tweak any of it. Yeah, not so much. It came back with several (okay, lots) of "suggestions" on how to make the story better. And it hurt (because I have the ego of Superman), and one well-meaning "suggestion" is like Kryptonite for me. I went through my usual two days of self-doubt and throwing in the towel, but then I got over it. Those crits weren't going to stop me from doing what I love. As a matter of fact, it only gave me more reason to "show him". I'll make this story the BEST DAMN STORY I've ever written.

7/28/15 Post Script -- Thanks to Maria for pointing this out in the comments. 

It's hard to think that I'm NOT a "perfect" writer. I ask for help from critique partners and because my EGO is larger than my pea-sized brain, I tend to get all grumpy about their suggestions. As I said to Maria in the comments, Critters are the best people on the planet. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. And generally, 9.5 times out of 10, I always take their suggestions and put them in the book. For #3, I guess I should have made the point about those people who aren't writers who nay-say our "little hobby", or trivialize our passion for the art. You know, those people who say, "Oh, you're writing a book -- how quaint." Or "You're writing a book -- WHY? What do you have to write about." You know, the mean ones. We all have mean people in our lives. Don't let those bastards grind you down. Keep plugging. Keep working at it. Don't let nay-sayers have their way.

Lesson #4


Learn your craft.

You couldn't be a mechanic if you didn't know what a torque wrench was. And sure, I've just said write -- what makes you happy, what you want to read. But the caveat is you need to learn the CRAFT of writing. It's not just stringing a couple of sentences into a couple of paragraphs into a couple of pages into a book. It's about grammar, and punctuation, and spelling, and structure.

YOU CAN'T BREAK THE RULES UNLESS YOU KNOW THEM. Did you know you can't use a semi-colon in dialogue? Even though Word says you can. Do you know the difference between a 3-act structure and a 5-act? Do you know the difference between 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and omniscient POV? Do you know the difference between an em-dash and an ellipse? Learn the tools of your trade and the correct way to use them. You wouldn't put a fuel cap on a tie rod.


Lesson #5


Writing is hard work.

Sure, we all saw the instant overnight success of sparkly vampires and pale colors. Sure, we're all jealous. I know I am. Hey, I'd love to have something I write be turned into a hit movie or make the NY Times Bestseller list. Who of us wouldn't. But those are just dreams I hold onto because they're fun. Like winning the lottery. I spend the millions in Powerball every week. But I don't buy a ticket. What would I do with millions of dollars? Buy the stuff I need, make sure Monster has enough for college and give the rest of it away. I wasn't raised to be idle.

I write for a living, and I love my job. I can't see myself ever retiring. And with every job I've ever had, I gave it 110%. Including this one. Every time I sit down at the computer I give it everything I can. No, I don't write every day. I can't. But during the days I do, or the hours that I can, I'm in it until I know I've given 110%. Until I'm satisfied with the outcome. Until I can honestly say, "Job well done."


Working hard becomes a habit, a serious kind of fun. You get self-satisfaction from pushing your self to the limit, knowing that all the effort is going to pay off.

Mary Lou Retton


Extra Lesson 

Social media doesn't sell books. I don't care what anyone says. The only thing that sells books is still word of mouth and a damn good book.


Tell me -- Have you any lessons you want to add? Share them in the comments.

Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

My New Characters

I've been working ferociously on the new detective series (one story finished, two more started). It's been grueling because I'd like to get all of them written before the summer ends. Yeah, I'm a little crazy that way. (I also need to work on the new Regency series, but the new characters won't leave me alone.)

Anyway, I needed a break and decided to get some images for my characters. I'm a "visual" writer, meaning I can't write a character unless I have a picture of them in my head, and in my hard drive. I had several people in mind for the characters, but then I found two that are spot on.

Ed Harris

Meet Detective-Lieutenant Thomas Locke. He's tough, tender, has a loving relationship with his parents, has no baggage (except an old dog), and is polite, smart, funny, and sympathetic to the plight of the heroine's past issues. He's like the perfect man. Almost. He does have a few flaws, most notably his distaste for dressing in anything other than Levis and flannel shirts, and a propensity for making of fun of people who don't.

Dyan Cannon

And his sidekick, Mallory Pope. She's a stoner, hippie, has-been, who used to be a famous astrologer and psychic. She has a devastating past and severe physical limitations, which only lends to the anxiety Thomas has in working with her. He does like her, and she likes him, which leads to them both acting like they're 14 years old. It's kind of funny.

I'm having a blast writing this series, mostly because I get to go "home" again. I Google map Rhode Island and hit "street view" so I can get the feel of the place. I'm totally homesick these days because it's July and I'm not at the beach. I have some money saved up (for Monster's tuition) and it's eating at me because I could just as easily spend it on plane tickets and hotel/car reservations. What to do, what to do...

The beach where I used to live. 

Tell me -- Are you a "visual" writer? Do you have pictures of the people you want your characters to be? Do you wish you could go home again?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

Writing Out of My Preferred Genre

So, I finished writing the detective story last Friday morning. I re-read it (countless times) edited, revised, re-wrote, and finally put The End on it. Actually, I wrote the end on it Wednesday, but I didn't like and tore it all apart on Thursday. Put it all back together on Friday. Called it done.

Don't get me wrong, I still have another round of edits (and probably ten more), but it's readable and I believe the story's tight. I also have to take a look at the structure. Some places it drags and don't you just hate that. But I have to say, after writing this book, I want to immediately start writing another one.

You know why, I'm having so much fun building these characters I don't want to stop. And I came to a major realization the other day.

I have absolutely no expectations of this story. 

I feel the same as I do when I finished THE LADY'S MASQUERADE. I had no idea what to expect, but I finished what I started. I wrote a detective story of 34K words. And I think it's pretty good.

I don't have a clue who my target audience is. I'm also having trouble with my keywords and BISAC category. Is it a thriller? Suspense? Murder? Police Procedural? Detective? Mystery?

I've been giving a lot of thought to options about this story, Should I query it? Should I submit it in a contest? Should I self-publish? Should I promote? Under which name should I publish? Should I get a new pen name? How much time do I want to invest in a "big" project? Is it worth it to continue writing in this genre, with these characters? (As well as the new Regency series = 2 big projects.)

Or do I not publish at all, put it in my drawer and hide it away.

I've given that some very serious consideration. Would you like to know why?

Because everything I write has been judged. People have expectations. Readers become fans if you do it right. Those fans have expectations of my writing.

If I publish under another pen name, who's going to know it's me? You won't if I don't tell you.

I can hear Anne R. Allen screaming at me from across the states. I don't need another pen name. I already have two. However, Anne, you said it yourself, unless you're writing in disparate genres, you don't need a pen name. And well, I am writing in three disparate genres now.

I'm too stupid to know I don't know what I'm doing. 

But here's the thing...I've been writing and publishing (formatting, marketing, editing, proofreading, revising, and watching the industry change and evolve) over the last six or seven years. I know EXACTLY what I'm doing. Kind of.

Whatever ideas I may have about publishing these stories, I won't know if they'll work, unless I try. Right?

If I do decide to publish any of the detective stories, it won't be for a long while yet. I'm enjoying the high from knowing I started and finished something. (I also painted my office in between the time I began and finished the story -- pics coming soon. June 1 - June 25. I think total writing days equaled 17.)


The only thing I do know for certain, is that I like the story. And I want to write more of them.

Stay tuned!

***

And yes, I changed the blog back to a more beachy feel. And also the name of it. SEO is what it is.

***

I hope you all have a safe and non-explosive 4th of July.

Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

I'm Back -- Kind Of

Well, it's been awhile. I got through my mid-life crisis intact. I guess. I'm not sure if that's what it was or not, but life has settled down and I'm feeling much better.

I cleaned my house, or at least straightend out the mess that was my dining room. Here are a few pics to show you the before and after...

the original dining room

note the bannister and the rug

the upper room is now my reading nook

front door entrance and new dining room

note the bannister is gone

the cabinet where I keep my treasures

the other side of the front door entrance

This is what it looks like now because I've started writing again

Yes, I've started writing again. I mean, I can't not write. It's encoded into my DNA. Life just threw me a bunch of curveballs in March and it took me until now to hit them out of the park. Now that I've straightened those out, I'm back to the grind.

I think part of the problem was that I wanted to write other projects and ditch the Regency stuff. It took me awhile to realize I could actually do both. I mean I wrote REMEMBERING YOU at the same time I wrote THE LADY'S FATE. It's all about scheduling and sticking to it.

So that's what I'm doing. Sort of. I'm still not sure about this blog. I hate to give it up completely, this is where my friends are. But I've noticed more and more of them are also giving up their blogs to devote more time to family and writing.

It's hard to keep it up after so many years. With so many other social media avenues to travel on, why keep on blogging. It's not like any one is here anymore anyway. However, on the off chance someone is, I'd like to keep in touch.

So I guess here I am. I'm thinking I'll post updates about once a month. Although, I tried that before and eventually that fell away too.

I do have the other blog, Anne Gallagher Writer but that's mostly for my readers. Although, if you want to stop by and say hey over there, I won't ignore you.

And if I don't see you, have a great summer!

Anne Gallagher (c) 2015

Writing From The Inside

Good Morning. I'm almost finished with the final book in my Reluctant Grooms series. WHEN ALL HOPE IS LOST. I've been working steadily on this story since Thanksgiving. In it, I examine Lady Olivia's life and why she does the things she does. It has been an intricate journey filled with twists and turns and and angst and depression, grief, heartache, love, loss, and agonizing pain.

One of my best friends, (a mom at school) whom I speak with nearly every day on the phone, wondered where I'd been. She never calls me because she knows I'm writing, so she waits for me to call her. It was three weeks before I picked up the phone.

"What the hell have you been doing? I thought I had done something to piss you off," she said, when I finally called her last Monday.

"No, I've just been writing." We chatted about the book. She's actually my sounding board for plot twists. When I described certain elements of it to her she thought I was a genius. "Brilliant." is what she said. But then she said, "I saw you in car line yesterday. You look awful. Are you okay?"

For the last five weeks, I have been working 14 hours days at the computer. I have sorely neglected my "real life" because Lady Olivia has pretty much dragged me through the ringer. I've cried during every chapter, sometimes nearly every scene. It wasn't something I planned to do, believe me. Making my readers cry with my words is one thing. Making me sob like a little baby is another.

Lady Olivia has always been in the background of all my stories. As other characters say, "She likes to have her hand in all the pies of the aristocracy." From matchmaking and charity work to Parliament and political intrigue, Lady Olivia is a diverse character.

However, she never had her own Point of View in any of the stories. She was always there, giving advice, and scheming to make everything turn out in her favor, but always through the eyes of another person. Until LADY OLIVIA'S UNDOING.

I set her up in UNDOING to take a fall. I don't know why. I thought it was good reading. In THE SEDUCTION OF MR. SUMMERVILLE, I allow her to fall even further. Yet, once I finished that book, I realized I hadn't done enough. She needed to hit rock bottom.

It hasn't been easy, let me tell you. I cried nearly every day. I've had more than a few sleepless nights pondering over chapters. I suppose I can honestly say I am "suffering" for my art. And here's the kicker. Just as I was almost finished, on the last chapter I might add, I came down with a nasty sinus infection and bronchitis. I tried to write through it, but I had to take a few days off. Lying in bed forced me to examine what I had written and why.

You see, Olivia and I are almost the same age. (I'll be 53, she just turned 56.) She's led a charmed life. So did I for a very long time. And then mine fell apart. I lost everything, (IRA's, my savings, my home, my job, my fiance) all within a couple of months. I hit rock bottom and had to climb out of the mess circumstances had thrown me into. I don't know why, but I wanted Olivia to go through exactly the same thing. I'm thinking that I had never dealt with the nightmare that was my life back then and this was my own personal catharsis.

It wasn't easy putting myself through the emotional roller coaster again. But I dug in and remembered how I felt during that time -- angry, unbelieving, sad, depressed, gob-smacked, furious it had happened, wondering when it would end, how I would ever get out of it.

As a writer, we have to dig deep into our own emotional highs and lows so our characters will be able to SHOW that to our readers. As writers we need to get it from the INSIDE. Granted, it takes courage to be able to look at our past selves and examine where we were, how we felt, and then go through it all over again. And I can tell you, that's why I got sick. Within those six months when I lost my "life" I was also really sick (the beginning of my current health situation I deal with now). Hence, my illness for the last week. History is repeating itself.

Truthfully though, I think this is the best book I've ever written. WHEN ALL HOPE IS LOST is the perfect title (thank you Jane Austen) because Olivia has nothing. She's hit bottom and at the end of chapter ten she has lost EVERYTHING, much the same way I did. What else is the poor woman to do? I make her suffer endlessly, because I did. It took me a long time to get from that point in my life to where I am today.

However, in the book, Olivia has a champion -- ME-- who makes it all better by the end of the book. Why? Because I'm a sucker for a happily ever after. I can't tell you what happens, but let's just say she gets what she needs. As have I.

Tell me -- How far do you go for your characters? Do you "suffer" for your art? Do you write from the inside?

Anne Gallagher (c) 2015