Twisted Knickers

Quite some time ago I bought myself a long, slinky, lace-trimmed black nightgown (Odd. When I first typed this, it was mightgown, though I certainly didn’t feel mighty like Wonder Woman wearing it.).

When my kids saw me in it, they laughed, rather dampening my enthusiasm. They didn’t think it was appropriate for their mom to look, well, kind of like a hooker. They were used to seeing me in pajama bottoms and T-shirts. Not sexy, but snooze-worthy.

Years ago, I had cute underwear. Now I’ve got Bridgette Jones’s granny panties. Industrial strength underwire bras. Sensible cotton nightgowns that can double as dustrags.

And I used to have cute shoes, too. Lime green. Hot pink. Leopard print (maybe those weren’t so cute.). For a girl who treasured the Bloomingdales catalog like a Bible, I’ve fallen from chic to meek.

I love reading the hero’s journey as he strips the heroine of her petticoats, stays, shift, and stockings. There’s something amazingly liberating after each string gets loosened from the corset. But most naughty artwork of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries shows people with their clothes on as they “get it on.” There was just too much of it to get off. Oh, you know what I mean.

Underpants as we know them are a relatively modern invention. In 1757 a German doctor said a woman shouldn’t wear pants or closed underwear because her nether region needed air to allow moisture to evaporate so it wouldn’t decay (!!!). But it was okay to wear them in cold weather(and to protect against insects!!!).

There’s nothing worse than a middle-aged woman looking like a Barbie Doll, but I’m in the mood for a pick-me-up. What’s your secret weapon when you want to feel frisky or fashionable? How many thongs are in your drawer? You can post anonymously now, so we won’t be shocked.

A lady is one who never shows her underwear unintentionally. — Lillian Day

Eight Days a Week

I’m always looking for love in all the wrong places. As a romance writer, I read a lot of marriage-sex-and life-oriented stuff, trying to stimulate my recalcitrant muse. I came across an article in The New York Times recently called “A Date with Destiny.” Apparently every engaged couple in America wants to get married on July 7, 2007. 7/7/07 has vast appeal (far more than 6/6/06, the author Michelle Higgins noted—Satan sucks).

I got to thinking about lucky numbers, about which I obviously have no clue, or else the Maine Lottery Commission members would be on my doorstep with one of those giant cardboard checks. But eight was a big number in my family. My birthday is October 8 (write that down), October also being the 8th month in the original Roman calendar. My dad’s birthday was August 8, my mom’s January 28. They were married on March 8. We lived at 81 Lincoln Boulevard. So far 8 has not panned out for me with the ponies or Powerball.

Eight is a lovely number, looking like infinity. The No. 8 tarot card means strength. In China, it’s a lucky number because it sounds like “wealth” or “prosper.” In the middle ages, 8 was the number of “unmoving” stars in the sky, and represented the “perfectioning of incoming planetary energy.” I don’t know what that means, but it sounds good. There are a zillion interesting math facts about 8, but since I stopped teaching Title One math, I’ve shut that part of my brain down.

How to transfer all this digit data to writing? Apart from checking my word count every paragraph, hoping somehow those 250 words were really 2500, I wonder if I should set a daily numerical word goal. For the past few weeks I’ve been doing VaNo with the Romance Vagabonds and some other Vanettes. We tantalize each other every day with number of words written and snippets. Thus far I’ve ranged from a few hundred words to over 4,000. I am consistently inconsistent. Christina Dodd aims for ten pages a day. Many writers don’t let themselves leave their desks until they’ve typed 1,000 words. Keeping that pace, you can complete a book in three to four months, maybe even finish three books a year. Right now, I’m happy if I write a little every day.

How about you? Daily goals? Deadlines? For those of you who did NaNo/VaNo, is it helpful to have the pressure? Do you have a “best” time of the day to write/get stuff done? I seem to be fresher before I go to work in the morning. Do you have a lucky number or a lucky anything?

Clothes Encounters

Kilts. Jeans. Tuxedos. Pristine white cravats. Boxers. Briefs. Cowboy boots. Whatever our favorite heroes are wearing, they’ve probably got on too many clothes.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to period clothing lately, because in my new WIP Paradise, my tortured heroine Eden by necessity has to dress (and mostly undress) herself. And quickly, else she’ll get in trouble. I’ve already ditched her undergarments, sent her maid packing and she’s sewing her own clothes. Too bad there’s no Velcro yet.

And I’m thinking about privacy, too. In a household of more than a dozen people, how can one carry on a clandestine affair without anyone catching on? Oh. The secret staircase.

I’m not much good keeping secrets, but Eden has a huge one. I’m wondering if her combination of strength and submission is realistic. This new WIP is taking me places I never expected to go, and it’s a disturbing, dark road. Nothing may come of it, but I’ve written over 53,000 words since the middle of April (Thanks, VaNo.). I may have to work on my Key West Hiasonesque thing simultaneously just to shed a little sunshine on my gloom. Wouldn’t want to go nuts like Mrs. Rochester. I live in a cape and there’s no attic.

So, which outfit would you like best on (and off) your hero? Do you like your guys in suits or sweats? Have you ever worn period clothing? Ever kept a deep, dark secret? Tell all.

Thanks to all of you who shared such great perspectives for the Great Expectations contest. You always give me great things to think about and greatly enrich my writing experience. MsHellion, send your mailing address to maggierobinson8@yahoo.com and you’ll get your great stuff!

Great Expectations, the Contest

Several weeks ago, Irisheyes made a comment that got me thinking. Are romance novels good for real romance? Are we all looking for that tall, dark and handsome duke/firefighter with a blazingly bright smile and tight buns…and instead find a shortish nerd with beer breath and belly flab? Can our husbands/lovers perform on par with Duke St. Flame and get it right every time all night? Do we get disappointed if they can’t?

Lots of women say reading romance has helped their sex lives, whether they’re involved in a joint or solo venture. What do you think? And how many books a week do you read trying to find out? Comment by midnight Saturday, June 2 and you may win a copy of Julie Garwood’s Slow Burn and other hot stuff. I’ll post the randomly-selected winner and a new blog Sunday, June 3.

Running With Scissors

Collage: an assemblage or occurrence of diverse elements or fragments in unlikely or unexpected juxtaposition

I’ve been making collages since my grandmother let me cut up old Sears catalogs and paste the bits into my own wishbook. For our twenty-fifth anniversary, I assembled a jumble of family pictures and every weird thing my husband has ever said.

Well, not every. The collage is only 3’ X 4.’

There’s a collage-y bulletin board over my desk that’s supposed to inspire me. On it right now, pictures of the following: my four kids, adorable Ioan Gruffudd, buttons, lilacs, hollyhocks, a blue door, and beach rocks. There’s also a postcard from Graceland with Elvis’ favorite sweet potato pie recipe sent by daughter #2, a mini-collage made by daughter #3 and motivational quotes, some from fortune cookies. Inspired yet? I thought not.

My writing is a little like my Sears art and my bulletin board. There are unlikely juxtapositions everywhere. I love to do research and weave the findings in someplace. I’d like to find a use for Thomas Fletcher Waghorn’s overland route from England to India. It cut the journey from 16,000 miles to 6,000 miles, from three months to 35- 45 days. I imagined a disgruntled British army officer assigned to guard the return of a teenage heiress and her governess who would teach him a lesson or two. I even wrote the first eighteen pages. But I think even reduced, 6,000 miles might be too much for me to cover. I bet Loretta Chase could do it in her sleep, though.

What’s your favorite motivational quote or inspirational object? What interesting fact have you learned researching your books? What would you like to know more about?

On my bulletin board: ancient Chinese secrets from fresh Chinese fortune cookies

As soon as you feel too old to do a thing, do it.

Your dream must be bigger than your fear.

Instead of worrying and agonizing, move ahead constructively.

Ignorance on fire is better than knowledge on ice.

Do you know the fortune cookie trick? Add the words “in bed” to the end of every saying. That works pretty well for the examples above!

And Lenora, do the Chinese even have fortune cookies?

I Do vs. Why Do

Time Magazine recently published an article by John Cloud entitled “Americans Love Marriage. But Why?” Citing and debunking a bunch of statistics, the author’s conclusion was “we feel worse, mentally and physically, when we can’t find a mate or when we are trapped by a bad one. There is good evidence that it is freedom that makes us healthy and happy, not the bonds of marriage.”

Uh. Okay. Try telling that to romance writers when their every book ends with the promise of marriage, if not the actual ceremony. And I’m a sucker for those epilogues that let us peek at the blissfully happy future and bouncing babies, too.

But Cloud has a point. 51 percent of American women are now living without a spouse, including widows and those whose jobs necessitate residing in a different city, state, or continent. I can’t believe more than half of my sisters are miserable, stroking their cats and watching Mary Tyler Moore re-runs for pointers.

Before America was really America, marriage was considered a desirable, even necessary state. Women were lured to Virginia by this advertisement:

If any Maid or single Woman have a desire to go over, they will think themselves in the Golden Age, when Men paid a Dowry for their Wives; for if they be but civil, and under 50 years of age, some honest Man or other will purchase them for their Wives.

So even then guys were looking for grateful young things who weren’t mouthy.

90 percent of American women marry at least once in their lifetime. But we all know there is no guarantee of happily ever after. The trend to test drive before buying—living together—is, I think, a wise decision for many couples. Though I bet they, like Brad and Angelina, get sick of hearing, “So, when are you kids gonna get married?”

Romance novels don’t portray real life accurately —that’s why we love them. I believe marriage is the required outcome for historical romances in order to stay true to the mores of the time, but what about contemporary romantic fiction? Lots of people don’t get married now, but just “live in sin.” How would you feel about a book not ending in the obligatory marriage? Can you think of any you’ve read that reflect Kurt and Goldie’s choice? Is that gold band the gold standard for writing THE END?

Love: a temporary insanity, curable by marriage. ~ Ambrose Bierce

Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence. ~Oscar Wilde

Marriage is not a word; it is a sentence. ~ King Vidor

Keep your eyes wide open before marriage, half shut afterwards. ~ Benjamin Franklin

Marriage is like a cage; one sees the birds outside desperate to get in, and those inside equally desperate to get out. ~ Michel de Montaigne

My maternal grandparents Franziska and Stefan Maniero on their wedding day. Don’t you love these Trivaholic lifestyle products?