Showing posts with label women's fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women's fiction. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

What is Women's Fiction?

photo from salon.com
I once posted this: Women's fiction is that which is written with female readers in mind. It's about the protagonist's journey through a story, about her growth, and her [experience].
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This is what I tell people, too, when they ask what I write, but I've been finding that, for some, this explanation of the wide-spanning category isn't enough. They want it broken down further.
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Wikipedia defines women's fiction as an umbrella term for a wide-ranging collection of literary sub-genres that are marketed to female readers, including many mainstream novels, romantic fiction, "chick lit," and other sub genres.
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Better. Clearer. I'll have to remember this.
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Whether you write it or read it, how would you describe to others what, exactly, women's fiction is? What types of books does the term include for you?

Friday, April 22, 2011

Five Words Into Fiction (#2)

Her hair, beautiful and harsh, is the color of a crow. This is by careful choice, and she has it dyed once a month, every third Tuesday. She loves the mystique of the hue, the way it refracts the light as a wile, almost like there's some blue to it.
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Noah would have adored it, and so of course this is why. It is for him.
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It was a month after he disappeared that she first had it colored. His foray into nothingness, hers into vanity. Because it is the single binge she's found that stills the hurt, quiets the shame. Eating didn't do it; she felt empty. Not drinking; she felt a waste of herself. And sleeping with Noah's best friend, Mart, only buried guilt in her stomach and in her dreams.
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So it is also for her, the hair and the rest, with the primping and pampering and perfection. It all says she is significant and strong and courageous, that she is and will be okay.
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When she looks in the mirror to see what Noah left behind, she is satisfied by what she sees and she tells herself, You will be okay.
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**
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My apologies for posting this piece so late in the day. My words were difficult to fuse together. They were: binge, crow, foray, refract and wile. You'll find them all above. Whew!
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I hope you enjoyed it. I also hope that it leaves you thinking, perhaps making up more of the story.
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**
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If you've played along and written your own fiction with your own words, link up in this post's comments. Or, if you haven't done a piece yet but would like to, I'd be happy to give you some word suggestions. Just let me know (also in this post's comments).
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Also, since you're here, be sure to check out my post about rules for successful writing. Leave your thoughts (by Sunday night--earlier if you're busy for Easter) for a chance to win the book of your choice in my giveaway! Winner will be announced Monday.
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Have a wonderful, blessed holiday weekend.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Things Would Be Different

The first novel I wrote was considered by Avalon Books in NYC. When they rejected it--this was December of 2008--I was crushed. I said at the time, on this blog, I feel like my sails have lost their wind. Now--instead of a writer being considered--I'm just a writer. I feel less validated. Like I have to start all over again...

It's been two-plus years.

Avalon is a quality publisher, and I have friends who've found success through them, but I'm glad my pacing was off, that the editors didn't care for my story's element of suspense, and that my hero and heroine lacked tension. I'm thankful they didn't pick me.*

The writer I am now, without that publication, is the writer I'm supposed to be.

I'm working on my third novel. Somewhere between that first book and this one, I've found my true writer's voice. I've learned that women's fiction is my strength. I've better-established and set the path to my long-term goals, not the least of which is agent representation. (Avalon does not require representation of their authors.)

I've added to my resume, and bolstered my confidence, and have become part of some awesome projects. I've honed and practiced and still continue to grow into a better writer.

If Avalon had thought differently, would I have grown in these same ways? Would I have found another path? Or molded to a certain style of writing, a particular avenue of publication that could have stunted my development?

How things could be different. I'm glad they're not. Really.

Do you have a similar story? Whether with writing or something else, has there been a near-miss you're now grateful for?

* I'm also thankful for the small nudge that Avalon's interest gave me, and my drive to write.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Meet Amy Nathan

QUESTION: What's the worst way to make a great first impression? `
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ANSWER: By flipping deep-dish spinach pizza across the table at your dinner companion, of course.
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Amy and Janna
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Amy and I just laughed, and I dared her to share tale of my clumsiness (which I'm beating her to, I think). No damper on our dinner.
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I've known Amy, who is such a great and talented woman, through the power of the internets for what has to be a few years now. And when I learned I'd be visiting an area very close to her hometown, we planned a real-life meeting.
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I've talked about such meetings, with colleagues and bloggy buddies and all, here on the ol' blog before, and many of you have had the same experiences. It's just so darn cool. What pleases my writer's spirit is the connection over words, and the craft, that one can't get just anywhere.
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Amy and I talked about agents (she recently signed with Jason Yarn of The Paradigm Agency!), women's fiction, favorite authors, POV/tenses, premises, plots, and brainstorming about your WIP with habit, as a rule not an exception. Who else can you do that with and not bore your company to silence and disinterest? It's a powerful thing to share the same wavelength with another writer.
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I absolutely enjoyed our time together. Flipped food and all!
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If you've never crossed paths with Amy, go meet her now. Visit her blog and website at amysuenathan.com. She also has a post up at STET! today, so you can find her there. Tell her Janna sent you.
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You should try deep-dish spinach pizza, too. It's good.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Words Say So Much

When I'm working on fiction, I keep dictionary.com open on my laptop. I plug words in a dozen or more times a day, when I need to make sure a meaning applies in the way I need it to, or to get a full feel of a term's nuance. I like, too, that if I'm undecided about what to say, I can track one definition to the next and find something fantastic.

So anyway, I look up a lot of words. I think it's entertaining to look back at them, to see at what kind of story they hint. Here are some recent ones:

adulterous
berth
attorney
paralegal
comatose
humidor
stogie
pomp
apparition
obtuse
carnal
accounting

And then there are Google topic searches:

upright pianos
medical conditions
Gershwin
occupational therapy
trial separation
CPA

Sort of cryptic, don't you think? Can you tell by these words and terms that I write women's fiction? I wouldn't think so, and that fascinates me.

What kind of story would you create out of the above?

Thursday, December 9, 2010

I Could Be Your Writer

I'm not sure what the etiquette is for this thing I'm going to do, or even if there is one. But I'm going to do it anyway, because, you know, I've got this blog here at my fingertips, it's sort of decently established, and so why not tell you what I'm thinking?

I'm thinking you know me. You know people. People know people. We have all these great connections, and supportive friends, and folks who just happen to stop by our internet places.

What's to say my blog won't be visited by the person(s) who holds the key to my literary future?

Elizabeth Berg was a freelance writer when someone contacted her, an agent, I think it was, or maybe an editor, and said, "I've this proposal for a book, and I want you to be its writer." Someone contacted her, just sort of slid the folder of opportunity across her desk. She took the job, wrote the non-fiction book, which springboarded her into the fiction career she wanted. Now, two-dozen highly-successful novels later...

So I'm thinking maybe there's someone out there looking for a writer. Maybe they're looking for me, because I could be the one plucked from obscurity. Why not?

I'm a good fiction writer. I can do narrative non-fiction, too. Short stuff, long stuff, articles, books. I do have experience. I relate well to people, understand a variety of topics. And I'm confident in my skills. I'm also fortunate to have people in my life who would vouch for me on this stuff. I consider you all, my readers, among them.

You know what? Some might think this is me begging a lucky break, but it's not. It's me acknowledging my place, my potential, and admitting that I've worked hard for close to ten years. It's me agreeing to work harder yet, because I'm here, and I'm ready.

I could be your writer. Are you looking for me? Do you know someone who could be?

Friday, July 23, 2010

Friday Fiction

Today I've a guest post and flash* piece at Linda Hoye's blog, My Own Velvet Room.

If you don't mind the hop over, I'd like to know what you think! And say hello to Linda while you're there. She's a wonderful gal, with some great insights into life, and memoir writing.

*Flash fiction is a short piece of fiction, 1000 words or less.

Friday, July 9, 2010

About Doubt

I doubt myself. As a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a believer. But mostly, as a writer.

Sometimes the words fail me. Their chemistry, their composition, their themes, they elude me. And I think, how am I supposed to be a writer this way? How am I to write a novel? How do I make it deep and shimmering and worthy and good, with all the quality fiction is supposed to have?

It's a tough place to be, because here I have this dream, and this story to tell (a book to write), and an effort I wish into existence.

Yesterday I was reading Donald Maass' Writing the Breakout Novel. I don't know if I can articulate what I read--it was a breakdown of one author's plot, for just one of her titles, in how she made it work. And what I needed to be doing--no, what I was doing wrong--just sort of lighted on me. I knew what I wasn't doing, but more, what I needed to be doing.

And then I took a close look at my work-in-progress. At where it sits now, starting at the very beginning. Because you know, you can't see what you have unless you start at the very beginning. Then I took it from there, and started to implement this new what-I-should-be-doing thing.

It sounds so simple. It's not, not in the long run, but for that moment, it was as simple as simple could be.

I saw my WIP as it could be, that maybe it will work.

And it made me think, I can do this. I can be a writer. I am a writer. Look at me go.

It feels like anything--even publication--is possible.


**I'll leave our progressive story "live" through the weekend. I'll reassess next week, and we'll wrap it up then. See two previous posts for more details.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

A Girl and Her Senses

I liked this meme of the senses, thought it different and interesting. Wanted to borrow the idea (and so I have). Here's my take:
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Touch
Feeling the sting of the sun--just above my knees, and the outer swatches of my upper arms--from having been out on the lake for the holiday weekend. The wrap of a band-aid, curling around the pad of my finger. My big toe, and its exposed nailbed, where I bungled and tore it days ago.
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Taste
Aftertaste, really. This afternoon I had a bottle of Gold Peak Tea, which has left a heavy sweetness on my tongue and at the roof of my mouth. I really need to brush.
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Sight
I see a web, running down a length of space between the beam above my desk and the side of my laptop, inches from my hand. Where, oh where, is the responsible spider? *shivers*
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Smell
Nothing. I try to breathe in the lavender from oils in the living room, just over and down from this balcony where I sit, or the fresh nostalgia that accompanies the first days of a summery house. I know they're both there. But for now, nothing.
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Hearing
The blow of the air conditioner. My husband's voice, none too quiet on the phone, as he talks someone through buying a car. My girls, distant and content, as they play in our basement a couple floors down.
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What could you share about your five senses?
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Thanks to Kelly from My Voice, My View, from whom I snagged the meme.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Life

I've figured it out, why I write.
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I haven't been writing in the days since my dad died. Or in the days, weeks, before that even, because he was sick and I couldn't pull myself from knowing it would be quick. I had emotion weighing down each moment, and had those things, life-or-death kinds of things, to tend to. You know?

I spent a lot of time with my parents and sister; time helping, time loving. And I was okay putting my writing aside for a while. This blog took on a sort of lesser quality. From what I thought was my standard, anyway. And my fiction was tucked away, saved, ready for later. Whenever.

But then my everyday real-and-in-person life flagged, too.

I started suspecting the cause was more than losing my father. Because hard as that has been, and continues to be, would it overlap into everything else, the minutiae of daily life as a wife, mother, homemaker? Force my patience and determination to wear, not just thin but through? I've been apathetic. I've been moody. Horrible.

I told my husband something is wrong. That everything--people, my responsibilities, all of it--overwhelms me.

Then last night I had one of those half-lucid brainstorms. The first scene of A Gradual Goodbye, the novel I'm rewriting, floated around in my dreams, delivering me back to the story. The creative coals kindled.

When I woke this morning I headed straight for the computer. Pulled the book up. Worked for a couple hours, felt it for the first time in a long while. Inner peace. And it clicked. The piece I hadn't been able to fit, let alone identify, slid right in its place. I don't know why I didn't realize it before.

It's the writing. Such a defining outlet for me. That creativity, huge. It balances my world, and my mental health.

It makes me happy. That's why I write.

Monday, May 10, 2010

While We Wait

There's always something for which to wait. In fact, I'm waiting right now.
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Have a seat. You take the left, I'll sit at the right, and we'll talk. Pass the time. Wait together.
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If you were sitting here with me, what would we talk about?
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**Make sure to visit this post and enter for my book giveaway. Winners TBA Wednesday.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Book Giveaway: Two Young Adult, One Women's Fiction

The notion has hit me, and I can't ignore it. Time for another giveaway!
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Many of my followers read and/or write YA fiction, and I know some of you have kids who'd enjoy these titles. Check 'em out!
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Willow Run
by Patricia Reilly Giff
new paperback, Yearling
this may actually be Middle Grade?
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Back cover copy:
Margaret "Meggie" Dillon's life in Rockaway, New York, has been turned upside down by World War II. Her older brother, Eddie, is fighting in Europe. And she's heard that anywhere but Rockaway, her grandpa would be turned in because he's German and might be a spy. But Grandpa became a loyal American citizen long ago. Could he be taken away?
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Meanwhile, Meggie's father has announced that they must help the war effort and move to Willow Run, Michigan, where he'll work in a factory, building planes. Meggie is sad about leaving Grandpa and her best friend, Lily, but she tells herself that Willow Run will be an adventure.
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There Meggie meets Patches and Harlan, other kids from far-off places whose parents have come to do their part in the war. And she faces questions about courage, and what it takes to go into battle--like Eddie--and to keep hope alive on the home front.
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Once Upon a Time: Midnight Pearls
(A Retelling of The Little Mermaid)
by Debbie Viguie
new paperback, Simon Pulse
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Back cover copy:
In a quiet fishing village seventeen years ago, one lone fisherman rescued a child from the sea. He and his wife raised the girl, Pearl, as their own daughter, never allowing themselves to wonder long about where she came from--or notice her silver hair, unusually pale skin, and wide, dark blue eyes.
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Pearl grows from a mysterious child into an unusual young woman, not always welcomed in the village. As all the other girls her age find husbands, she has only one friend to ease her loneliness. One very special, secret companion: Prince James.
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But their friendship is shaken when trouble erupts in the kingdom--a conspiracy against the royal family combines with an evil enchantment from beneath the sea. Now, just when Pearl and James need each other most, bewitching magic and hints about Pearl's past threaten to tear them apart... forever.
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And now, because YA isn't my niche but women's fiction is, here's a third title!
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Flirting With Pete
by Barbara Delinsky
like-new (read by me) hardcover, Scribner
Janna's dust, no extra charge!
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Barbara Delinsky has written many bestselling novels over the past two decades, including Searching for Peyton Place, An Accidental Woman, The Woman Next Door, and Coast Road.
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For this book's summary (which is too expansive for this already-long post), see here.
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To be entered for this giveaway, leave a comment with your title preference. If you're interested in more than one, just say so (you can only win one, though). At contest's end--next Tuesday, May 11th, 8pm CST--I'll categorize names and hold three separate drawings. Giveaway Guy (my hubs) will draw our winning names, which will be announced in Wednesday's post.
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Good luck! And have a lovely weekend. :)

Monday, May 3, 2010

Janna Touts Joanna -- Spreading the Awesome

What caught my eye that day, poking through antiques, was a small collection of novels. I can never turn away, you know.
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I liked the one book's blue spine. (Ask my best friend; she'll tell you I'm drawn to blue. In clothes, furniture, trinkets. Always blue.) I lifted it from the others; its trade paperback size perfect in my hands. And from the back cover blurb to the front cover endorsement, it smacked of women's fiction. So it had me, see.
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When I got to the front register, the shopkeeper said it had been her copy. "Joanna Trollope, she's one of my favorites. I'm glad to see the book find someone new."
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Second Honeymoon is a tale of family and of change, wrapped in the tenderness and fragility of motherhood.
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Edie Boyd's children have all grown and moved out, leaving both the nest and her heart empty. Her sense of purpose, gone. Her life's work, unraveled. She has no choice but to scrabble through, and revive her marriage to Russell, try to resuscitate an acting career she'd once set aside.
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Until, that is, one circumstance after another leads each of the kids home again, and Edie has the option of reclaiming her role of a lifetime: motherhood. But is anything as good the second time around?
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Trollope's writing is beautiful, full of heart and depth. Her insights into life, into the emotions of a woman, wife and mother, build a story of truth and relatability. It's women's fiction, perfected.
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This post is part of Spreading the Awesome, an event created and hosted by Elana Johnson. Today you'll find bloggers, all over the internet, sharing details about the books they most love, and the incredible authors behind them.
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I'll refer you now to Gretchen McNeil. She'll be sharing her own review and the link for another blog and review, and so on, in our round-robin way of connecting one to the next and (eventually) back again.
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For Elana's all-inclusive list of bloggers and the links to their awesome, visit her page of recommended reads.
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So Joanna Trollope, she's one of my favorites. And this is my way of helping her books find someone new.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Harried

H Have you had moments in life when

A all the things you do, all you are

R responsible for, seems to grow beyond your

R realm of control?

I It's as if what you touch becomes

E entirely overwhelmed. Exaggerated. Too much.

D Dangitthat'showIfeel.

Monday, April 26, 2010

For a While

I'm going to be someone different.

I'm going to...

find strength and grit, use them to my advantage

mind every moment, big and small

be one who does it now, instead of taking care of it later

care less what people think; embrace what I think

let go the guilt, any guilt, give it up

allow the Spirit in, more

love with little restraint

live in my creativity, own it

take care of this body

understand that patience is not free

accept my sensitivies, for they bring humility


I'm going to be me. But better.



Who do you want to be?

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Two People

The image is seared into my mind, where I will hold it forever.

He was weak. But his footing became more sure when his wife took his hand, twisting her fingers with his.

This, after 38 years of marriage. After kids, houses, jobs and retirement, grandkids. After twenty years with his multiple sclerosis; her surprise double-bypass.

After a recent, incurable cancer diagnosis for him.
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As I dropped them off for his treatment, when they entered the building before me, they locked hands.
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In one second, I saw what marriage is.
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Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you so much.
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And Happy Birthday, too, Mom. You're an inspiration.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Genre: Defining My Women's Fiction

I write truth and I write fiction. I like weaving them together, in my women's fiction.

Women's fiction is that which is written with female readers in mind. It's about the protagonist's journey through a story, about her growth, her progress.

I have a theme. I think most writers do.

I've found each of my main characters is on the path of self-discovery. Whether it's someone leaving her job and relocating to start anew, someone realizing it's never too late to change, or finally getting to the root cause of her messy life, it's a common direction. Self-discovery, in simplest of terms.

My current work-in-progress (WIP) is in rewrites. My main character is a woman who's lived her whole life one way and now, as life is fragile, assesses what different would mean. She's on a journey.

Aren't all women on a journey? I think it never ends. We have so much to feel and learn. There's so much to relate.

That's what women's fiction is to me, and it's what I most love to write. It's what I hope my eventual readers will most love to read.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Erma

There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt.
Erma Bombeck
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My second post, A Mother's Panic (kerSMACK!), is up at An Army of Ermas today. I hope you enjoy it!
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Have a wonderful weekend.