Wednesday, September 6, 2017
It's the first Wednesday of the month, which means it's time for another action-packed installment of the Insecure Writers Support Group.
I'm assuming that, by now, you're all familiar with this group, but if you're looking for more information or a complete list of participants, please click on the above link.
This month's co-hosts are: Tyrean Martinson, Tara Tyler, Raimey Gallant, and Beverly Stowe McClure.
This month's (optional) question asks, "Have you ever surprised yourself with your writing? For example, trying a new genre you didn't think you'd be comfortable in?"
And true to form, I'm kind of answering this question and kind of not. Because I'm me, and this is what I do.
So I know I don't have a very deep title list, or a title list of any kind (I'm not sure one title can be counted as a list), but all five of my readers will know that I don't exactly write happy love stories. All of my characters are pretty miserable at the end of the first book, and should the second book ever see the light of day (Ha! she scoffed) those five readers will see that no one's getting any happier. It's not looking good for the third book, either (either for the characters, or me writing it...).
Because I am a horrible person who likes to do horrible things to her characters.
But that's another blog post for another day maybe.
Despite my penchant for making characters miserable, this past July, I set out to write a romance novel. Like, a real, actual romance novel with characters who like each other and aren't endlessly tortured, and who maybe have something that kind of sort of resembles a happy ending.
I hit my word count goal on this project (65,000 word) and scored myself a Camp NaNoWriMo win in the process, but the book is far from being finished. Mostly because the story is missing one vital component: THE FREAKING ROMANCE.
Which somehow surprises me. I didn't expect that first draft to be perfect, of course (not that I can really consider it a finished draft, considering that it's, you know, not finished) but I am surprised that I missed the mark so badly. I read the how-to books. I took copious notes on crafting characters and plot. I read real, actual romance novels.
And then I wrote a hot mess featuring two characters no readers would actually want to be together.
Which makes me wonder if I'm just not cut out to write a romance novel. I may not be. I may have to take those two characters and put them in another story in another genre. Or I may need more time away from it to give me the necessary perspective to figure out where I went wrong (for example, THERE'S NO FREAKING ROMANCE IN THE ROMANCE NOVEL) and how I could fix it. Or I may need to abandon the entire damn thing in some aligator-infested swamp somewhere (those exist in Florida, right?).
Only time will tell, I suppose.
Thanks for stopping by today. Take care, everyone.