My Writing Process

I generally take the way I write more or less for granted, but it’s always fun to think about things you take for granted. Chris Green at http://crystal-green.blogspot.com/ invited me to take part in a progressive blog talking about just that: what my writing process is!

What am I working on now?

Right now I am working on the second book of my Irish trilogy that takes place during the Regency period, The Broken Heart. Unlike the first book, which is set entirely in Ireland, this book is set in both England and Ireland. Caroline, who in the first book has set her heart on being a belle at the London season and falling in love with a handsome, eligible man who adores her, has all that happen, but it doesn’t turn out as she expected. Caroline has to grow up suddenly from a dreaming girl to a woman who has to take her destiny into her own hands and make her own happiness.  But romance is still involved . . .

 How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I suspect my writing falls somewhere between the traditional historical romance and women’s fiction. In the first book of the trilogy, The Divided Heart, the dominant curve of the book is Caroline’s sister, Anne, who has to come to terms with her love for both the Irish people by whom she is surrounded, and the English who have conquered them—two communities with centuries of hostility between them. Born in Ireland to an English family settled in Ireland for generations, her heart is divided between the place and people where she lives, and the English traditions of her family and the community in which she moves. There are two men involved, and from both of them Anne finds much to be attracted to, and to learn. The real history of Ireland is therefore important in a way that Regency fiction does not always deal with.

Why do I write what I do?

History in general fascinates me—it seems endlessly interesting to learn how other people, living in other times, have carved out their own ways of living given the circumstances that surround them. I married an Englishman, and for the early years of our marriage, we lived in London. It  was during the Irish Troubles, when Northern Ireland, which belongs to the United Kingdom, was torn between the Catholic and Protestant communities, warring over the issue of whether Northern Ireland would remain part of the United Kingdom (the position of the Irish Protestants living there) or be reunited with the southern counties, now the independent nation of Eire (the position of the Catholic population). The struggle was long and ugly, and it was on the front pages of English newspapers—which I read in London—and on television every night. As an American, it came as an enormous surprise to learn that the English, at that period still absorbing their Norman conquerors, had been in Ireland since around 1100. How the two communities had lived together for so long, and in bitter antagonism, fascinated me.

How does my writing process work?

It usually begins with a lot of reading. Although I’ve been to Ireland, there’s a big difference between walking across the Ha’penny Bridge (which is what the original toll was—now of course there is none) and marveling at the Book of Kells, and learning about its troubled history.

So I read a lot, and then I wrote a lot, most of which got discarded. I’m a real pantser, and it’s not until the characters get a grip on me that I can see clearly where their stories will lead. Sooner or later, generally sooner, thank goodness, I can see the path straight before me, and then it’s simply a matter of following it as I am led. By the end, the characters and their adventures are as clear to me as my husband is when he gets home from work and asks mildly if I’ve given any thought to dinner.

Most of the rumination stage for the second and third book (I hope) has gone on already. The Broken Heart should be ready for publication in spring/early summer of 2014, and The Rebellious Heart, the third book of the trilogy will be out later this summer.

Selena Fulton, A multi-published author living in Florida, Never Let Go, a time travel set in the Civil War era, will be blogging about her writing process on March 10 at selenafulton.wordpress.com  

What's A Writer To Do?

       Màiri's 19th c miniature scullery inspired by writing her debut novel, To Dream of Langston

What's A Writer To Do?

Sudden surgeries, headlong holidays, wonky workloads and contrary computer programs. What's an author to do when "life" gets in the way of our writing? 

Our blog this month focuses on that difficulty. Here are some of the obstacles Beppie Harrison, Lane McFarland and I have faced in the past few months, and how we dealt with them. 

Beppie: I've had a couple of rugged years, with three orthopedic surgeries.  2013 was going to be my year, when I was finally neither preparing for surgery nor convalescing, and I could get on with my writing. My goal: publish my Irish regency trilogy, half-written already, in 2014.

Well. Life does not always go as planned. I did manage to do some fun stuff in the early part of 2013: I went to Hawaii, where I grew up, for a reunion with my sisters and cousins, and my English husband and I took our two oldest grandsons to England for a chance to learn about that part of their heritage.

Then came August. My mistake was changing the sheets on our bed. When I lifted the corner of the mattress to pull on the bottom sheet, I felt a pop in my back. Followed promptly by increasingly severe pain. Visits to doctors, then surgeons led to the interesting discovery that my spine had been steadily deteriorating over who knew how many years, and drastic remediation was essential. In September I had spinal surgery lasting 10 hours, and I've been recuperating ever since. My spine has been fused just over halfway up, and the pain is gone. Unfortunately, so is the possibility of sultry, slivering activity. Straight is the new style.

I have read a lot, thought a lot (Queen Elizabeth II in her regular Christmas broadcast to her nation and commonwealth commented on the value of taking time for thought and meditation), and I am at last again writing a lot. I can sit up long enough to do so, and fortunately writing doesn't require standing or walking, both of which I can do now but not for extended periods. My planned schedule for the trilogy is moving back in time, but I can see now how all three books can be finished and I promise they will be published.

I will not be conquered by a bottom sheet and a mattress!

Lane: Obstacles come in all shapes and sizes. Unlike Màiri and Beppie, I’ve been blessed with good health. However, I do have one major obstacle to my writing.

My job.

As many of you can attest, a day job often turns into a job and a half. Working as a financial solution consultant selling software across the United States keeps me more than busy. I spend my days traveling from city to city, presenting my company’s software in the context of our customers’ business processes. Hours go into preparing for the events, and too many times I work through weekends to finish.

But, I always manage to reward myself by slipping in a few minutes to write. You’ll find me scribbling a line or two while waiting to board my flight, or penciling in paragraphs at night in my hotel room. I’ve even been known to pull out my iPhone and type a scene while waiting for my colleagues to join me for breakfast before our meeting.

During long days and tiring nights spent on the road, I often receive emails from my wonderful readers. Their messages fuel my desire to escape into my characters’ worlds and tell their stories.

I long for the day I can hang up my traveling work shoes, retire in the North Georgia Mountains and write until my heart’s content. With my readers’ continued support and encouragement, I’ll overcome my writing obstacle, and someday, I will realize my dream.

Màiri: Imagine waking up in the middle of the night to so much pain one is certain one is dying. After what seemed an eternity in the E-room at my local hospital, the doctors got enough dilaudid in my system to make it possible for me to understand what they were telling me. It seems I had a 'hot' gallbladder, and it had to come out - now. A short time later, it was a done deal. [Note here: I love writing about past ages, but I'm sure glad I live today. Had this happened in past ages, barring a miracle…well, you know.]

In the weeks leading up to and following the surgery, I can say with honesty that writing wasn't high on my list of 'things-to-do'. I'd just released my debut novel a short time earlier, but I wanted to finish an Edwardian Christmas novella in time for the holidays. That didn't happen. I lost the desire to write. I couldn't write - the words wouldn't come. But then I remembered why I write: I love it. It satisfies something deep in my very soul. So I did research (which I also love). Hours, days, weeks of it, until eventually, I worked through the issues, and was able to write again. 

[It also helped to work on my poor, neglected hobby, dollhouse miniatures. Always satisfying to the hands and the soul.]

Then there was the "impossible upload". I had no trouble releasing my novel on Kindle, but getting the paperback print version uploaded refused to happen. After more frustration and time than I care to admit, I finally admitted defeat and found a professional to do it for me.

In one case, I found a way to work through the obstacle. In the other, I handed it over to someone far more capable of handling it.

So, whatever it takes to keep writing, do it. Don't let life get in the way. As writers, creativity and imagination are our forté. Use them to find a way around, over, under or through those pesky obstacles. 

If you've overcome an obstacle recently, we invite your comment about it.

The Rocky Road

If I knew it intellectually before, I now understand experientially that the road to publishing, whether indie or traditional, is paved with boulders. They come in all sizes and shapes, and in surprisingly various forms. There are sharp, nasty boulders that trip one up and throw one to the ground, slowing and sometimes temporarily stopping one's progress; small, slippery boulders that seem to be cunningly placed purely to make one's journey 'interesting'; and, low, flat boulders designed to let one stop and rest and think.

Slipping, sliding and maneuvering among them is a frustrating, maddening, exhausting experience. Yet now I've done it, I feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment. I'm glad I didn't let the boulders stop me in my tracks. It was worth all the effort to achieve the goal. 

That's right. I'm now an officially published author of my very first book. It feels good. I am well aware that the next, repeat journey will feature a few unexpected boulders I've not met before, thrown in for good measure. But nothing will ever equal that first experience.

Having said all that, may I introduce you to the product of that journey among the boulders?

To Dream Of Langston was written 8 years ago, revised and rewritten within the past year. It truly is the 'book of my heart', as is often said. It is a coming of age tale, a journey of its own for the heroine, Katherine Fairbanks. Her story in many ways reflects certain stages of my own life, so I knew how she felt - her hopes and dreams - and I understood her final triumph.

If you choose to read her story, I hope you enjoy it, that it makes you laugh and cry and dream and sigh.

To Dream of Langston - Cover photo of yellow gorse by Rae Monet

Buy link:

http://www.amazon.com/To-Dream-Of-Langston-ebook/dp/B00FISPO4Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1380626946&sr=1-1&keywords=mairi+norris+to+dream+of+langston

To Dream of Langston Cover Reveal

I finally figured out how to convert my cover photo to .jpeg so that I can include it here! Please continue on to  the To Dream of Langston blog...

To Dream of Langston cover photo for Chapter One of the serialized version:

To Dream of Langston Cover

I finally figured out how to get my book cover converted to .jpeg so I could include it here! Please continue on to the blog....

The cover of the first serialized chapter [those of you familiar with the flora of northern England and Scotland will recognize the golden gorse]:

Màiri's Musings From the Sunroom-To Dream of Langston

Mairi’s Musings From the Sunroom

I’m blogging today about the upcoming release of my new book, To Dream of Langston, a dream eight years in the making. It’s my first novel, and I wrote the first draft as a means of dealing with profound grief. It is, in every way, the book of my heart.

I will publish it in serialized e-book and print book format. Release date for the first installment of the serialized version is September 30. In anticipation, I offer the following for your enjoyment:

The ‘blurb’:

    From the wild and beautiful landscape of the moorlands of England's North Yorkshire to the rolling bluegrass pastures of Kentucky, one young woman's passion carries her from love's first bloom to a love everlasting.

    On the brink of womanhood, Katherine Fairbanks glories in the sweet love of the boy next door. When her life is brutally ripped apart by tragedy, she believes she will never love again and seeks only peace for her life. But betrayal sweeps her across the sea and lands her in the hands of a man she dares not trust.

    Thoroughbred breeder Jayce Langston has little interest in taking a wife. His time is consumed with the struggle to help his family recover from the devastations of America's Civil War. When a lovely, mysterious woman pursued by thugs drops in a deep swoon at his feet as he leaves a New York club, Jayce is both captivated and intrigued. He returns with her to his Kentucky stud farm in hopes of learning her identity.

     Together, they must work against terrifying odds to secure a future where love triumphs over loss.

An interesting fact about the Victorian era:

The use of ‘snipers’ in modern warfare originated during the American Civil War. Union sharpshooters favored the .52 caliber ‘Sharps’ (Berdan) rifle, while Confederate snipers used, to deadly effect, the English .45 caliber Whitworth, which had to be obtained from blockade runners.

The origin of a familiar idiom from the Victorian era:

“the three R’s–reading, writing and ’rithmetic”: It is believed the source of this phrase, widely used in mid-Victorian America, is from a toast given in 1807 by an English politician, Sir William Curtis. There is some disagreement among scholars as to whether Sir Curtis’ toast was made tongue-in-cheek, or if he was simply ignorant of the proper spelling of the words ‘writing’ and ‘arithmetic’.

An excerpt from Chapter Eight of To Dream of Langston:

Can it be only five years since that day? Surely, it is a lifetime, instead. What happened to that child who sat on the parapet of a stone footbridge and dropped gorse petals into the water, to watch them spiral away on the flood? Where did that girl disappear, whose only care was that Jamie should think her beautiful in her new dress? Is she gone, forever?

The memories of that day are etched in my mind with clarity as keen as wind off the snow; yet, they seem distant and unreal, as if belonging to someone else. Maybe they do. Maybe that girl died, and this new person I now am, took her place.

The pain of those memories is not erased, but faded somehow, like cloth bleached too long by the sun. Much of its power to wound is lost. The dreams that girl embraced were destroyed in a single instant of time. How strange, then, that another instant has brought new hope.

ROMANCE AT CHATSWORTH, by Beppie Harrison

People have a lot of different reasons for what they choose to see when they’re on a trip to England. What I visit depends on if I’m there with my husband or my daughter or my sister. This July was a new adventure for me: my husband and I took our two oldest grandsons, Josh who is 13, and Marcus who is 11.

My husband is a steam engine nut, and so we saw (and traveled on) a lot of trains.

More about that in another blog. England is so rich in history, much of it before anyone was thinking in terms of North America, so we went to a lot of historical sites. We saw the Tower of London; Bodiam Castle—built in 1385, the perimeter walls are intact and the moat is still there; Middleham Castle, which belonged to Richard III (he’s the one whose body was so recently discovered under a parking lot) and which still has enough left so that you can get a sense of what living in a castle might have been like, and Sissinghurst Castle. Sissinghurst is more notable for its wonderful rose gardens and literary connections (Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf), although its history goes back to before the time of the first Queen Elizabeth. We got to introduce the boys to our oldest friends as a married couple—we’re all grandparents now—and to my husband’s cousin and his wife. My husband and his cousin have been obsessed with trains since they were about five years old. Both still are. And the boys were intrigued

Me? I wanted to see Chatsworth House.

I’d read about it and its magnificence, and when I followed the fascinating story of the Mitford family (six amazingly talented—and different—daughters who were authors and celebrities in the 40s and 50s) I discovered that the youngest of them, Deborah, who is the only survivor, had been the Duchess of Devonshire (now the Dowager Duchess) and she and her duke had managed to make a business of the estate and kept it surviving when other great houses were torn down because their families could no longer pay for them. The Devonshire estate was hit with death duties of 90% of the estate’s value in the early postwar years when the government was desperate for money to rebuild after the war damage. It took them until 1980 to pay it all off, but they are the 15 ^th generation to live there and the present duke (Deborah’s son) has a son, who has a son, so as a member of the staff pointed out to me, they are safe now to reach the 17^th.

I’m pleased to say the boys were fascinated. There was the overwhelming grandeur to start with, and the collections of various Dukes—magnificent works of art and insects and stuffed animals and minerals (great chunks of valuable minerals) and statuary. There I must say we parted company: their favorite gave me the creeps. It is a modern statue of St. Bartholomew, who was flayed alive, holding his skin in his hands.

But obviously other people came to Chatsworth for different reasons, as I discovered. There’s a long pool extending down from the house with a great high fountain up at the house end. Because of the length, it looks narrow, but you’d have to shout to be heard all the way across.

I was standing well down the pool from the house, watching some ducks on the far side, when a movement caught my eye. There was a couple across the pool from me, and the young man had dropped to one knee in front of the girl with him. Of course my eyes widened and I couldn’t look away. And was very grateful the pool was wide enough so that they weren’t aware of an onlooker.

He talked to her very earnestly. She placed one hand on his shoulder, and then he fished around in his pocket and pulled something out.  They were too far away for me to see what it was, but I was sure I knew: he took her hand and (I assume—couldn’t see) put a ring on it. She threw her arms around him in a rapturous hug.

My husband came up about them and I hissed at him, “Take a picture!” So he did. It’s a pity there was no way of letting them know we had a picture of the moment, because by the time we got to either end of the pool, around to the other wise, and then back up to where they were, they would have been long gone. I suppose I could have jumped into the pool, thrashed across, and . . . but that would have rather spoiled the moment, would it not?

May they have a long and happy life together!