I read a book the other day by Trixie Koontz. Trixie is blond, beautiful, wealthy and living in a big mansion on the water in Orange County, California. The book was charming and well written. Devoid of flowery words and phrases. The pictures were pretty cool, too. But, ummm, Trixie is a dog. Now, she’s uber author Dean Koontz’s dog so I’m thinking she had a leg up (so to speak) on finding an agent and a publisher. But, still. We’re really publishing works by golden retrievers instead of, say, me?

When it comes to my writing life, I’m a lurker. Call it fear. Call it an introvert issue. Whatever it is, it means I usually blend into the background and listen. Of course, every now and then I overhear something that makes my head pop off my shoulders. What follows is a semi-actual conversation I overheard at a writer’s conference. Yeah, I left my house to meet with other writers. It was a shock to me too. The statements aren’t exact quotes but are darn close. And, really, I showed up because Kate Duffy was there and anyone who knows me knows I’ve made it my life’s mission to stalk (in a non-violent way) this poor woman until she BUYS something I’ve written.

There were two published authors - we’ll call them Anne (because that’s not her real name) and Sue (because I’ve tried to wipe her real name from my memory), and two unpubbeds who we’ll call unpubbed #1 and unpubbed #2 ( I have no idea if they even have names). The conversation went something like this:

SUE: I really miss being unpubbed, don’t you? Everything was so easy back then.
ANNE: Absolutely. That was the life.
UNPUBBED #1: Huh?
UNPUBBED #2: < frown >
SUE: You guys are so lucky. You don’t really know how lucky.
ANNE: Definitely. Very lucky. I miss those days.
UNPUBBED #1: But…
UNPUBBED #2: < scowling >

Now, don’t send 106 emails about how getting published doesn’t solve all your problems. I get that. I honestly do. Getting published is not a ticket to the Promised Land. Everyone has issues. The insecurities and pressures of writing life don’t disappear overnight just because someone is under contract with a publisher. That all makes sense. The above conversation doesn’t. My point - you are published. You’ve conquered that step. Don’t underestimate that accomplishment. But, don’t underestimate how annoying it is as an unpubbed to hear a pubbed yearn for the old days. Do published folks really miss the unending wait for a response? The wondering if anyone will ever find you good enough for THE CALL? The endless parade of contests and rejections? The not knowing?

Yeah, that’s the life. Very lucky.

I just want a good story. Why should you care what I want? Valid question. I’m only one person. My name is HelenKay and I’ll be stopping in as a guest blogger from time to time. This is just my opinion so blame me, not Sylvia. What I think matters a tiny bit - maybe - because in addition to being an unpublished writer (a status that, hopefully, will change at some point) I’m a reader. Big reader. A paperback can cost $3.99 or $14.99 - it doesn’t matter. No complaints here. All the crying about the cost of books drives me batty. Blame the system but buy the book. If the work is good, it’s mine and the next one by the author likely will be too. The B&N reader card is out and ready for action but PLEASE make the trip via car or internet worth the effort.

Being a divorce lawyer (yeah, I know, not very romantic) and dealing every day with folks who spend the equivalent of the cost of a college education fighting to make sure a spouse doesn’t get even one extra overnight per month with the kids, a satisfying romantic read is a must. A way of re-fueling, escaping and smiling again. In general, even though there are notable exceptions, to get from page 1 to page 200, 300 or 400 some things have to happen (or not happen):

1. Any contemporary plot where the heroine is too afraid of any relative (mother, father, grandparent or pet cat) to leave home/leave the family business/marry the guy she wants to marry/get a life, goes back on the shelf. This is an offshoot of the TSTL heroine. I refuse to believe in 2005 that grown women are ruled by what their parents tell them to do.
2. Make men act like men. Give me an alpha male and you’ll have a happy reader. Make him flawed. Make him do and say stupid things. Make him mess up. Heck, he can even accidentally shoot the heroine (so long as she somehow lives to see a satisfying ending) and he still can be a hero. But, make him real. Men do not talk to women the same way they talk to other men. Some men swear. Some men check out women (but not my dh because I’d kick him). Heck, some men even have sex just to have sex and not because of some great burning love (I know, very shocking). Believe it or not, men do not always fall in love with the first pretty chippy to walk under their noses. Lust is normal. Attraction is very cool. So, let’s not skip to forever love in the first 50 pages. That’s not believable.
3. There’s nothing like a hot romance but it’s time to let the contrived circumstances go. Sexy lingerie shops, sexy chocolate shops, sexy bookstores, sexy resorts - I have no idea where these people live but these stories have been done. Find something else. The set-up doesn’t have to shout “sexual situation ahead” in order for these books to work.
4. Contemporary virgin heroines (we won’t even talk about the idea of a virgin hero) aren’t a fav either. I’m not reading a YA book. Don’t want a class on “so, what comes next” because I’ve already survived high school, thanks. Real people. Real sex. Real situations.
5. Amy Garvey is right - any story involving a secret baby must go. Please stop this. Blame Harlequin but we need to put this storyline to bed. During the five years since conception someone would tell these men they’re fathers, wouldn’t they? We won’t even talk about the women and their decision-making abilities.
6. You don’t have to write what you know all the time but if you’ve never seen a cowboy, don’t write about one. Again, Harlequin is responsible for this mess. Bottom line: if the only things that make your hero a cowboy are the stetson and boots, he’s not a cowboy. I shouldn’t be able to take away the hero’s cowboyness simply by taking off his clothing.

I probably have more but I want Sylvia to let me post again so I’ll stop. Thanks for the time to chat. Remember, the B&N reader card is ready and waiting.

HelenKay