Jessica Hart

Clearing the mind. Or not.

2012-02-21T04:52:00.000-08:00

Chapter 6 done, and now we’re on the dreaded Chapter 7, usual point of major crisis. I’m at the fretful stage of writing, getting anxious about my deadline and Frith isn’t helping. Having forced her back into the third person, suddenly up popped ‘I’ in the middle of Chapter 6 again. I thought we’d been through this, and I’d decided that, Oh-So-Sensible Secretary notwithstanding, readers preferred the third person.

No wonder I’m having trouble sleeping. I write until about midnight at the moment – although rarely get down to any work until after lunch, so this is not as disciplined as it sounds – and then when I’m too tired to do any more, I fall into bed and lie there with my mind careening all over the place. No sooner do I switch out the light than I think of something, and have to put it on again and drag out my trusty bedside notebook and pen. I scrawl down enough to remind myself of it the next morning and try to sleep again. Five minutes later, on goes the light. More scribbling. And so it goes on until the small hours while I toss and turn and wonder why my brain can’t be this active when I’m actually at my computer.

The current notebook is nearly finished and is full of incoherent and barely legible jottings that are nonetheless recognisable as the genesis of various scenes from books from Last-Minute Proposal onwards (had completely forgotten that Tilly was originally going to be called Lottie Vale!!)

Lottie, respelt, turned up in a later book. Market scene email Lotty, I scrawled one night. Or scene with Blanche????? Obviously I was in the throes of Ordinary Girl in a Tiara then. As it turned out, I did write Caro’s meeting with the Dowager as an email to Lotty, but clearly changed my mind about the market scene.

In pub, mats hunting scenes or coaches, Lex thinks of hushed efficiency of office with nostalgia è but DEAL. Hhhmmnn. Juggling Briefcase and Baby, for sure, but it looks as if I cut the detail about the place mats. Weird what seems brilliant in the middle of the night! On the same page I’ve written, oddly: evening keep notebook by bed! Er …?

Mr B + H into study, is scribbled on another page. Not quite sure why study was so important. I’ve underlined it twice. Deep voices shaken cloth in yard straightened carpet on chest – ah, this is Time’s Echo. The scribbles wind round where I’ve written LINCOLN OTHER LETTER??? and CHAIRMAN? in large letters, which is bringing back vague memories of some editing crisis.

Interspersed with ideas for scenes are urgent notes to myself about the vital stuff that spins round in your head when you’re trying to sleep: TEA BAGS. Tony’s birthday. Order lamb (underlined three times; clearly a worry). MA – shipping???? BLOG!!!!! Who knew my life was so stressful?

I’m feeling quite anxious just looking through the book for last night's notes now, but it’s a handy thing to have one beside the bed. The theory is that once you write a reminder, you can put it out of your mind and relax, although I have to say it doesn’t always work that way for me. If you’ve got any better tips for clearing your mind, please let me know - I'd really like some sleep before I get to the end of this book!

The West Wing and UST

2012-02-17T04:12:00.000-08:00

I’m feeling bereft. After catching up on the entire series of The West Wing on DVD, I saw the last two episodes last night. Fabulously satisfying ending, gusty sighs all round, but I’m going to miss those characters so much! I really didn’t want it to end.

I remain baffled by US politics after seven series. The characters speak so fast, I had no idea what was going on a lot of the time, but none the less I was riveted throughout. I squirmed every time the allegedly British Ambassador, Lord John (!!!) appeared – is that what Americans really think of us?? – but otherwise thought the writing and acting were matchless. Brilliant stuff.

I was especially happy that Josh and Donna got it together at last. Every successful series has an element of UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension) at its core, which keeps the viewers tuning in, just as the unresolved conflict in a romance keeps the reader turning the pages. The moment the characters in question acknowledge the feelings they have for each other, the UST disappears, and I lose interest. Remember Niles and Daphne in Frasier? Gil Grissom and Sara in CSI?

The relationship between Donna and Josh in The West Wing was brilliantly done. There was a real connection between the characters, and the chemistry was obvious to everybody else without ever being overdone. A look, a deflected question, a hesitation … the UST was there right until the end and you were never quite sure that they would work it out. When Josh was on that plane, and Donna sat down beside him … phew!

When I was looking for images, I came across whole websites dedicated to Josh and Donna, speculating about their life after the end of the series. I’ve often done this with books too, if I really love the characters. Being able to imagine what their life is like once the story has ended is the sign of a truly great character.

Do you have a favourite TV “couple”? Now I’ve finished The West Wing, I need a new series to absorb me in the same way, and I’m offering a copy of We’ll Always Have Paris, awarded on the usual eeny-meeny-miny-mo system, for recommendations below.

Champagne truffles and royal weddings

2012-02-14T01:37:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m still waiting for my truckload of roses to arrive, but it’s early yet …

However, there was a lovely surprise this morning with the delivery of a gorgeous box of pink champagne truffles from Mills & Boon, with congratulations for Ordinary Girl in a Tiara’s nomination for the RoNA Rose award. What could be nicer than a totally unexpected present?

And talking of the RoNA Rose award, Liz Fielding and I can be found on the Harlequin Romance Authors today blogging about the inspiration behind our short-listed books, so do pop over there and have a read. Liz has a photo of the perfect Roman balcony that I can quite see as inspiration for Flirting with Italian.

I’m talking about the hours of onerous research I did on royal weddings, and here’s a sneak preview of the video that made even me go ‘Aaawwww …’

Third time lucky?

2012-02-11T04:47:00.000-08:00

After yesterday’s excitement, I settled down at last to finish what was supposed to be a final draft and ended up a Shitty Second Draft. At 157 pages (42,410 words) it was a pretty full draft, so I was relieved to get to the end.

Now I’m going to chuck it out and start again from scratch.

Oddly, this decision feels better than trying to rework what I’ve done. Somewhere in the process, I’ve got to know Frith and George and they’re not the cardboard characters who have been going through the motions for the last 157 pages. So, deep breath, and fingers crossed that this draft will be the one where everything clicks.

I was so taken up with the RoNA Rose short-listing that I forgot to mention that The Billionaire’s Blind Date is now available as a digital download from the Mills & Boon site or Amazon.

A novella, The Billionaire’s Blind Date was originally part of a special anthology released in the UK as All in a Day and as a duet called Here Comes The Bride in North America.

Linked to Christmas Eve Marriage, The Billionaire’s Blind Date is the story of Clara’s mother, Nell and how her life changes completely in just 24 hours.

The brief, a story that took place within a single day, had me scratching my head at first, but in the end the strict limits were strangely liberating, and I remember enjoying writing this story a lot. Plus, I always loved Clara in RITA-winning (just thought I'd get that in!) Christmas Eve Marriage, so I was very glad to make her happy too!

There's something very appealing about coming across characters that you're already familiar with from another book, I think. I'd like to write more linked books, but it seems to be hard enough to write one at the moment, let alone a whole series. But one of these days ...

RoNA Rose Award

2012-02-10T04:28:00.000-08:00

Exciting news to announce this morning … Ordinary Girl in a Tiara has been shortlisted for the RNA’s RoNA Rose Award!

The RoNA Rose Award (formerly Love Story of the Year and before that the Romance Prize) recognises the best in category and shorter romance, and it’s an honour to be on the shortlist with writers like Liz Fielding and Kate Hardy. There are three historicals also on the list, from Jan Jones, Sarah Mallory and Mary Nichols, so Ordinary Girl is up against some very tough competition!

I have to say the news was a (very nice) surprise. Readers with long memories might recall that this was the book that I nearly hit the wall with, and I had to give up on it entirely before I went to Australia in 2010. So it’s reassuring to know that the pain pays off in the end … and a helpful reminder as I continue to struggle with Frith and George!

The Romantic Novelists’ Association awards celebrate romance fiction in its many different forms. See its awards website for books shortlisted in other categories. Winners will be announced at an awards ceremony in London on 5th March and I predict another wardrobe crisis nearer the time!

Sneak peek

2012-02-06T01:01:00.000-08:00

Wondered if you’d like a sneak preview of the cover for Time’s Echo, which is out in September …

This is a "time slip", written under my own name, as you can see, and it’s a major departure from category romance for me. So a very different cover from my others!

Here’s the provisional ‘blurb’ to give you some idea of what will be on the back cover:

York , 1575: Hawise Aske smiles at a stranger in the market, and sets in train a story of obsession and jealousy, of love and hate and warped desire. Drowned as a witch, Hawise pays a high price for that smile, but for a girl like her in Elizabethan York, there is nowhere to go and nowhere for her to hide.

Four centuries later, Grace Trewe travels the world, trying to outrun the memories of being caught up in the Boxing Day tsunami. Her stay in York is meant to be a brief one.

But in York Grace discovers that time can twist and turn in ways she never imagined. Drawn inexorably into Hawise’s life, Grace finds that this time she cannot move on. Will she too be engulfed in the power of the past?

I love this cover. To me, it’s intriguing and conveys the ‘feel’ of the story, and I was thrilled when I saw it. The point of a cover is to tell the reader what kind of story they’re going to get when they open the book, and I think this cover ‘says’ "time slip", the way the cover of We’ll Always Have Paris, for instance, ‘says’ category romance.

What do you think? Is this the kind of cover that would make you pick up a book, or do you prefer your novels with a clearly contemporary or clearly historical setting?

What a difference a weekend makes

2012-01-31T11:31:00.000-08:00

Fabulous weekend with the Chief Plotting Advisor: eating, drinking, shopping, walking, plotting, detoxing wardrobe … We both agreed that we couldn’t afford to spend any money, went into town to buy some eye drops for CPA, and came home several hours later laden with carrier bags. Let’s hear it for retail therapy.

All that, and George Clooney too! Not in person, sadly, but on screen in The Descendants, which I thought was pretty good, although I am by inclination more of romcom girl. But it was wonderfully unsentimental and very well acted. I laughed at some bits, and cried at another, and was absorbed throughout. I have a very low boredom threshold, and it takes a lot to hold my attention, so George definitely gets my Oscar nomination.

Oh, and as if that wasn’t a good enough time, we booked a holiday. The Dingle Way, here we come! Had to endure the torture of booking a flight with Ryanair online (aaaarrrgghh) but apparently there is no other sensible way to get to Kerry. Anyway, it’s done, and we’re going to Ireland at the end of May so fingers firmly crossed now for some decent weather. We’re going to walk the whole Way, all 112 miles of it, and it does look beautiful … if only we can see it through the rain!

All in all, am feeling in a much better mood than when I blogged last week. Douglas is still being silly about the cat flap, but I am standing firm. As for Frith, I’ve decided to succumb and carry on with this draft in the first person, since she seems to want it so much. Let her write this story if she’s so determined to. This is my last job before I start work again, and I’m handing over to her, so we’ll see how she gets on …

First aaaarrrggghhh of 2012

2012-01-27T09:03:00.000-08:00

So, this is the way it goes. I start a book, brimming with confidence. I have written 50+ books before, and therefore I know what needs to be done, right? I only need six weeks.

I rattle off a rough draft, not worrying that it’s rubbish, because that’s all part of the process. Then – vital stage – I write myself out a timetable, and I’m kind to myself. A bit too kind, perhaps. The very first day, I only told myself to write a single page (and it was a struggle, too!). Now I’m ahead of schedule.

But what’s the point of being ahead of schedule when the story isn’t working, the characters are leaden and every word is an effort? I’m going to have to go back to the beginning and start all over again. Am not sure if it’s a good sign or a bad sign that I am still on Chapter 2, and usually make myself labour on until Chapter 7 before hitting crisis point.

Anyway, this too is part of the process, so why am I panicking? I’m not panicking (much). I just so hate this part when the characters refuse to come to life and I can’t imagine ever getting any momentum going. I know it will happen (please God, let it happen soon!) but until that wonderful click when it all falls into place, I’m just plodding away and feeling desperate, which is not quite the same as panicking, but nearly as bad.

Part of the problem may be the nagging feeling I have that Frith wants to write her own story. I’m resisting this because (a) readers traditionally don’t like romances written in the first person, and (b) I’m the author, which means I ought to be in charge. How many books has Frith written, after all? Once we let these characters off the leash, who knows where it will all end? It’s all reminding me uneasily of my on-going battle of wills with Douglas, a very pretty but very stubborn tabby, who is refusing to use the new cat flap I had installed at great expense. Clearly, it’s time for me to wrest control back and for cats and characters to learn their place.

And control is badly needed, as I have agreed a deadline at last with my editor and there can be no more messing around. (Are you listening, Frith?) My Chief Plotting Advisor is coming to stay this weekend, and she’ll have no truck with recalcitrant characters. I’m banking on Frith, Douglas and I all being smacked into shape by Monday, at which point I can get back to normal procedure, i.e. writing the entire book in a rush of adrenaline just before the deadline.

Ironically, this blog has been nominated for a top writing blog award – see button top right of the page and feel free to vote! – allegedly because of useful advice about writing. So if anyone’s reading this in the hope of picking up tips, here’s my absolute top one: do as I say, not as I do.

A tale of two covers

2012-01-22T07:30:00.000-08:00

As you must all be sick of hearing, We’ll Always Have Paris is out this month in the UK. For reasons I don’t quite understand, it’s not out in North America until April, so I haven’t had any author copies of that edition yet. However, I stumbled upon the cover on Amazon the other day, and very pleased I am with it too. My usual reaction to a cover is a ‘hhhmmmnnn’ at best, but I like this one.

The Paris background is just the bluey-grey colour I always associate with Paris, and the heroine looks pretty much like I imagined Clara. Simon Valentine is a buttoned-up economist, so the suit and tie work well for him. And they’re absorbed in each other, unlike the couple on the front of the RIVA edition, where she looks downright sulky, I think, and he looks as if he should really be at school.

The Simon on the front of the NA edition does at least look as if he might have a degree in economics. He reminds me of Ben Affleck in Armageddon (Remember that film? I’m a big fan of disaster movies, as we all seem to call them now, and Armageddon was one of my faves. Now that was plotting and pace.) Here’s a picture of Ben in the film: am I right or am I right?

The background is also disquietingly similar to the famous shot in the film when Paris is wiped out by an asteroid – when they didn’t always have Paris, in fact. Now every time I look at the cover, I want to shout, ‘Hurry up and kiss! There’s an asteroid heading your way!’

I suppose the NA edition is a little more old-fashioned, while the RIVA cover (right) is sharper and more contemporary, as befits the story (or so I think).

I’ve always had a shameful tendency to judge a book by its cover, so covers are really important to me when it comes to whether I’ll pick up a book or not and I suspect they also influence how I read it too. What about you?

The eternal dilemma

2012-01-19T05:05:00.000-08:00

Very excitingly, I have been invited to a glamorous party in London next week (at least, it sounds glamorous to me, although maybe I’m being provincial and invitations to publishers’ parties are two a penny to my metropolitan sisters in the south). Anyway, Pan Macmillan are holding a party to celebrate women’s fiction, at the Sanctuary Spa in Covent Garden, and like Cinderella, I will go to the ball.

Unlike Cinderella, I have no fairy godmother to wave a wand and supply me with just the right outfit for the occasion. The Sanctuary is a women only spa and the last time I went, admittedly more than 25 years ago, none of us wore anything at all. I’m guessing it will be a different dress code this time, but what?

I so wish I was one of those women who don’t give the matter of what to wear a moment’s thought until a few minutes before they go out, at which point they pull out the perfect little dress from their wardrobes, or even better, throw together a funky mix of vintage and cheap’n’cheery that looks fabulous. Whenever I ask them where they got any of it, the reply is always something along the lines of “Oh, this old thing? I got it from M&S”, or “I picked it up at a market in Rajasthan” or something equally infuriating. I never see any of these supposed bargains when I go shopping.

I have, it is true, a wardrobe full of clothes, but none of them ever seem to be quite what I need. So instead of being properly thrilled at the prospect of a party, I am fretting about the eternal problem of what to wear.

When I went before, the Sanctuary was tropically warm inside, with parrots flying around over the palm trees. I suppose they might have updated the decor in 25 years, but surely it's a place for casual dress - but at 6.30 in the evening, presumably most people will be going from work, in which case they might be quite smart (unless they're other writers who get to slob around in comfy elasticated waist trousers all day). I’m taking train from York and coming back same night, which means I need to wear something warm enough and comfortable enough for 4 hours on the train, but light enough and smart enough for party. You see my problem.

On top of which, I want to look as if I haven’t tried too hard, and give the impression that yah, I go to publishing parties all the time as I run my fingers through my blonde tresses. (Curses, too late to get new streaks put in). On the other hand, I will be the new girl, so should make an effort … oh, dear, it's all so difficult.

I keep buying dresses, only to take them back the next day when I realise I can’t carry them off. I was determined not to wear black, as it’s so safe, and have been fantasising about a wrap dress in just the right shade of scarlet, although can I find one in York? There are plenty of wrap dresses around, and even red ones, but they’ve got silly patterns or are the wrong length or don’t fit right … Yesterday, I went for a completely different look and brought home a slinky blue dress from L.K. Bennett, but this one was vetoed by Senior Style Advisor because she doesn’t like swirls, while Chief Plotting (and Style) Advisor doubted whether I had the chutzpah to carry it off. Sadly true.

So then I decided I was being ridiculous, had wasted enough time on the matter, and should just find something to wear from my wardrobe. Out came the old favourites to be thrown over the bed, but it’s funny how tired everything looks after a few months go by … I had a pretty dress from Hobbs last summer, which would do except for the fact that it’s January now, and as CPA pointed out, the exact same dress has been hanging around on the sale rails for weeks now.

Or I could go ethnic in sludge green, or comfortable with leggings and a forgiving top from Sahara, but I was sharply slapped down for this suggestion: “enough of the leggings already. If this is a party you need to wear a party outfit, with heels FFS.”

The upshot of all this style consultation was that I will be playing it safe and going in – guess what? – a black dress. Never mind, at least the decision is made, and as my mother always pointed out “Nobody’s interested in you, dear”, (not realising that was precisely what I was worried about). So now I just need to fret about finding someone to talk to at the party. Maybe the parrots will take pity on me.

Jessica Hart goes historical

2012-01-16T06:49:00.000-08:00

My first reading

A big day last Friday: my first foray into the art world, my first attempt at an historical romance, and my first reading.

I’d been invited to write a short romance based on Joshua Reynolds’s portrait of the infamous Lady Seymour Worsley as part of artist Hayley Lock’s exhibition, (Now That Would Be) Telling. The project has centred around five stately homes in England, whose histories become the starting points for new works by Hayley, and at each house a different writer creates backstories for the characters.

My story is based in the fictional Caddington Hall. The original Hall was demolished in the 1970s but Hayley’s work creates an alternative history for the house, hosted by Transition Gallery in London’s East End, and that is where we went on Friday to launch the final chapter of the exhibition and for me to read my work for the first time.

Lady Worsley was reputed to have had 27 lovers, and Hayley has created exquisitely detailed portraits of each of them, their anonymity emphasised by the absence of any faces. My brief was just to write a short romance inspired by Lady Worsley’s portrait (now in Harewood House). It didn’t have to be true, or accurate, although I did use many of the details of Seymour’s life as background to the story that took shape in my head, In reality, Lord and Lady Worsley divorced, and while having 27 lovers makes for an interesting story, it certainly doesn’t make a romantic one.

For it to be a romance, I felt her story had to be one in which her marriage ended happily, so I imagined her at cross-purposes with her husband, with neither of them realising that the other had married for love. Any fans of Georgette Heyer will immediately recognise shades of April Lady and The Convenient Marriage in this imagining, and I have to hold up my hand and admit that my entire knowledge of this period is gleaned from Heyer’s wonderful books.

Hayley Lock with one of the 27 lovers

I love historical romances, particularly Regencies, and writers like Loretta Chase, Mary Balogh and Annie Gracie are among my absolute favourites, but my romance voice is a contemporary one, I think, whether I like it or not. What you like to read isn’t always what you’re able to write. If it were, I’d be writing thrillers and historical romances or romantic suspense. As it is, the chance to have a stab at writing a historical romance without worrying too much about whether a detail was authentic or not was really liberating, and I had a great time. What a treat not to have to plot an entire book, too. The story I wrote deliberately breaks off in the middle of a scene, allowing the reader to imagine their own ending, and to decide whether those 27 lovers were really part of the story or not. But who knows? Maybe one of these days, I’ll finish the story myself …

You can see Hayley’s wonderful portraits at Caddington Hall at Transition Gallery until 5 February 2012. In the meantime, here is my attempt at an historical romance (and no, I won’t be giving up the day job!)

‘Oh, Sarah, you look so …so bold!’ Emma had been horrified when she saw the half-finished portrait of her sister en militaire. ‘I cannot think Sir Richard will approve.’

Now Sarah wondered if Emma was right. She stole a glance at her husband under her lashes as he studied the portrait with an impenetrable expression.

They might have been planned as a study in contrasts. Sir Richard was dressed for business in a fine wool coat trimmed with silver-gilt braid, his hair neat, the lace at his neck crisply ruffled. He stood, hands clasped loosely behind his back, a sober, solid figure next to his wife with her jaunty hat and the vivid red riding suit.

She wished she knew what he was thinking. He would have preferred her, perhaps, as Diana or some other Classical goddess, but it was too late for that now. There she stood, ablaze in her scarlet riding suit, hand on hip, looking every inch the lady of fashion. She had wanted him to see her as dashing, to understand why her admirers clustered around her.

Why other men paid her the attention he gave to government business and his collection of antiquities.

Mr Reynolds’s studio was full of light. Sunbeams slanted through the windows and trapped tiny motes of dust in a lazy dance, and the smell of paint was raw in the back of Sarah’s throat. She had been posing for the artist to make the last tiny alterations when her husband arrived to admire her wedding gift to him, and she had stepped behind the easel to inspect it with him.

It was a strange feeling to see herself mirrored on the canvas. Did she really look that assured? That coolly certain of the world and her place in it?

‘It’s a good likeness,’ Sir Richard commented at last. ‘You have caught my wife’s poise perfectly, Joshua. And her mouth …’ He glanced down at Sarah, her face half hidden beneath the brim of that preposterous hat. ‘… yes, it is very like.’

He had noticed her mouth. Such a little thing, but her heart had leapt.

Sarah looked away, afraid that he would see the effect he had on her, afraid to let herself hope.

A long mirror was propped against the wall, and she could see herself reflected twice, once on canvas and once with the plumes on her hat still nodding gently.

Four Sarahs. Three cool, three poised. One achingly aware of her husband beside her.

Two Richards.

Sometimes it seemed to Sarah that she had indeed two husbands. There was the cool, dispassionate stranger who sat across the breakfast table from her, precise and keen-eyed, dauntingly courteous.

And then there was the Richard who came to her at night, who reached for her in the darkness between the bed hangings. Whenever Sarah thought about the heat that flared between them there, remembered desire would shiver down her spine. In the dark, there was nothing but the touch of his hands, the feel of his lips against her skin, the warmth and the weight of him.

In the dark, she didn’t have to school her features to indifference.

In the dark, she didn’t have to pretend that she wasn’t in love with her own husband.

Mama had explained it all. It was Emma he had wanted, Emma who was so amiable, so beautiful, so dutiful. Emma who never rode astride or tore her skirts. Her sister, the pattern card of virtue. Of course Richard had wanted Emma.

‘But now Emma is married you will do for him just as well,’ Mama had said. ‘Don’t hang upon him, and you will deal very well together.’

Sarah might not have Emma’s beauty and amiability, but she had her pride – and her £70,000 – and she knew the rules of a marriage such as hers. Richard would go his own way, and she would go hers. No one would ever guess the mortifying truth.

That she had fallen in love with him the moment she had laid eyes on him.

Nobody had warned Sarah that it would feel like that. The lurch of the heart, the sickening plunge of the stomach, the dizzy, vertiginous feeling. Her tongue, usually so quick, had cleaved to the top of her mouth, and she had been dull and stupid and shy with him.

His offer of marriage had dazzled her with hope, and plunged her into a desperate sense of her own inadequacy. For her husband was everything Sarah was not. He was sensible and restrained; she was wilful and headstrong, a madcap, who rode neck-or-nothing and laughed too loud. A hoyden, her step-father had said, frowning.

Richard was steeped in the classics, and had an organised and mathematical mind; Sarah had always preferred the stables to the schoolroom Her sewing was lumpy, her letters blotched, her figure trim but her face unremarkable. She was the last wife the serious Sir Richard Worsley should have chosen. There was nothing to recommend her to him.

Except, of course, her marriage portion.

Sarah never forgot that. She refused to hang on his sleeve and embarrass him with unfashionable affection. Love was for cits, not for the likes of Lady Worsley. The ton would titter behind their hands if they knew. So she gave herself over to fashion and frivolity and hid her desperate, unlikely passion behind a mask of careless gaiety.

‘See, I am wearing your regimental colours.’

She pointed to the dark blue lapels with the silver frogging that looked so smart against the scarlet, using the light, bored voice she had deliberately cultivated, the one that disguised the flutter in her entrails, the buzzing beneath her skin whenever her husband was near. ‘These military riding suits are all the rage.’

Sir Richard, who had seen the bill for the outfit, merely nodded.

Her dowry might have been signed over for his use, but Sarah, it seemed, had no intention of staying meekly at Appuldurcombe while he went about his business in Town. She was determined to take the ton by storm.

She had plunged into the giddy social whirl with such enthusiasm that Richard hadn’t had the heart to check her. The bills from her milliner and mantua maker were staggering, but when he had raised his brows at a hundred guineas for a pair of diamond encrusted shoes, Sarah had been quick to remind him while he might hold the purse strings, it was she who had provided the fortune he dispersed on her account.

Sir Richard liked being reminded of his dependence no more than the next man.

It was still a constant source of amazement to him to find himself in possession of such a wife. He had meant to marry someone demure, a sensible, intelligent woman who would provide him with an heir to Appuldorcombe and share his interests.

Instead …

Sir Richard glanced down at his wife, remembering the first time he had seen her. She had been just a girl, wild and lamentably wilful, and no beauty, but so vivid a personality that every other woman paled into insignificance beside her. She had burst into the drawing room, swinging her hat, her hair tumbled, her face flushed, and when she smiled, the charge in the air took his breath away.

Sarah. Marrying her had been madness. She was not at all demure. She knew nothing of the Classics and while her tongue was sharp and she was quick at cards, she reserved her undoubted intelligence for gossip and her energy for dancing and riding and flirting with her coterie of admirers.

‘George Bisset suggested the riding crop,’ she was saying, using the crop in her hand to point to the one in the painting. ‘Was it not clever of him? He said it would show my skill as an equestrienne.’

His neighbour was the most assiduous of her court. Wherever Sarah went, there was Bisset to bow over her hand and press his lips to her wrist, to flatter and flirt in a way Richard had never been able to do.

Sarah’s smile was brittle, and it pierced Richard with regret. It was always like that now, the smile of a fashionable woman, not of the vital girl who had captured his reluctant heart.

The moment the settlements had been agreed, Sarah had changed. She had made it very plain that a marriage of convenience suited her perfectly. ‘No one expects me to live in your pocket,’ she had said gaily.

Richard should have been pleased. It was the practical arrangement he had planned when he had first contemplated matrimony. He should have been delighted that she had reformed her hoydenish ways, that she fit so well into the ton. She was to be found at every rout, every assembly, every ball. She was cool and polished and everything a wife should be.

But dammit, he missed the wilful passionate girl he had married. Sir Richard longed to find her again, but didn’t know how to reach her now.

His eyes lingered on the portrait. Sarah was still there, beneath that coolly confident exterior, he was sure of it. Clever the way Reynolds had suggested the way she brimmed with suppressed energy, as if all her warmth and vitality had been forced under control and might pop the buttons on her tight waistcoat any minute.

In the picture, beside him, she was modestly covered from the tip of her satin clad feet to the expensive kid gloves, and there was a foam of lace at her throat, and looking at the portrait, Richard felt a thrill of possession. Only he knew how warm and soft she was beneath that snugly fitting jacket. He knew how sensitive was the skin behind her knee, the way she shivered when he pressed his mouth to the curve of her shoulder.

Glancing at her now, he saw that Sarah was talking to Joshua Reynolds, her expression eager and alert, the way it had been when he first met her, and he clasped his hands tighter together behind his back for fear they would reach for her of their own accord. He wanted to pull her back to him, to smile at him that way again.

He wanted to take her home in the carriage, to unbutton her gloves and peel them from her

Writing effective English: my top tips

2012-01-11T10:10:00.000-08:00

After the excitement of being nominated for a writing blog award by eCollege Finder last week, I have been giving some thought to what advice I could offer to students who want to improve their writing skills.

As usual, this has ended up as a much longer post than I intended (ramble? moi?) but for those who can’t be bothered to read to the end (and hey, we’re aiming at students, so might as well be realistic), here are my top tips for writing effective English:

1. Be clear about WHAT you’re writing.

2. Check the guidelines before you start.

3. Have a clear structure in mind.

4. Start specific.

5. Know how to deal with block: bird by bird.

6. Draft.

7. Keep language simple and natural.

8. Perfect your presentation and your punctuation: learn to use a full stop and an apostrophe!

As it happens, all of these tips apply equally to other kinds of writing, and I could just as well have written them with romance writers, rather than students, in mind. Whatever you're writing, I hope you'll find some of the advice below useful - although you might want to bear in mind my final tip, which is to do as I say, and not as I do!

DECIDE WHAT YOU’RE WRITING

Your first step in effective writing is to understand exactly what it is you want to do. Do you need to write an essay or a PhD thesis? A dissertation or a research proposal? Are you emailing a lecturer, or contacting a friend?

If you need to present a formal piece of work, make sure you understand precisely what it is you are required to produce. Are you answering a question, or exploring an argument? Is it enough to simply write up your research, or do you need to form it into a coherent argument?

CHECK THE GUIDELINES

Aspiring authors get sick of being told to check the guidelines, but it’s good advice, and you will save yourself a lot of time if you know what you’re doing. If you’re asked to write a 2,000 word essay, for instance, there’s no point in writing 5,000 words, just as there’s no point in submitting a 100,000 word gritty thriller to Mills & Boon. If you’re told to include footnotes, put them in - and in the correct format!

STRUCTURE

OK, you know what you need to do. Time to get typing, right? Wrong! I strongly suggest that you give some thought to your outline structure before you write a word. True, some writers prefer to sit down and see where the words take them, but it’s all too easy to get lost that way, and if you’re at all unsure about your writing ability, you’ll find it much easier to have a framework to hang your words on right from the start. At the very least you’ll need a beginning, a middle and an end, an introduction, an argument and a conclusion, or whatever labels you want to put on the time-honoured three part structure. I’d then jot down the main points I wanted to include in each section, but not everyone has my fetish about organising life into lists, I know. Still, I reckon it can only be helpful.

START SPECIFIC

Now you’re ready to start writing? Hold on, not quite yet ... The temptation is to plunge in, but it’s worth giving your introduction a bit of thought. A good friend of mine is an English lecturer and I asked him the other day about the advice he gives to students struggling with essays. Too often, he said, essays begin in a rambling way. It’s much more effective to start with the specific – a quotation from a text, say, or a moment in time – and build your argument out from that. I’ve never written an essay for the a science subject, for instance, but I don’t see why the same shouldn’t be true for other disciplines too. Start specific.

This is good advice for creative writing too. A rambling beginning choc-a-bloc with backstory is a common mistake in manuscripts I see. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing fiction or non-fiction, cut straight to the chase. Readers don’t want to be bored by the set up. They want to be sucked straight into what’s important. In a romance, that’s when the hero and heroine meet, or at a point of change or crisis in their relationship. In an essay, find some nugget of information or a quotation or something that encapsulates the argument you’re going to make.

DEALING WITH BLOCK (aaarrrggghh)

Right, so you’ve got the perfect quotation to start. You’ve got an outline. You’re full of ideas. You’re ready to go. And yet, if you’re anything like me, this is the very point when the words refuse to come. It all seems too daunting. A 2000 word essay, a 90,000 word thesis, a 150,000 word novel … however short or long it is, the prospect of ordering all your material, presenting your argument or telling the story you have to tell can be overwhelming. Your fingers freeze on the keyboard, your heart pounds in panic … I know, I’ve been there, more times than I can tell!

The best advice I ever read about dealing with this awful feeling of paralysis comes from Bird by Bird: Instructions on Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott. A wonderful writer, Lamott tells the story from her childhood about her brother, who at the end of the holidays was paralysed with fear at the size of the project about birds that he was supposed to have been doing over the previous weeks. On the last night, he sat despairingly at the table, surrounded by books about birds and with no idea where to start. Their father sat down beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Take it bird by bird, buddy,’ he said. ‘Bird by bird.’

I may not have quoted it exactly, but I love this story. It’s a lesson for life as well as writing, I think. When it all seems too much, don’t think about how much you have to do. Just think about writing the first line, or the first paragraph. Aim to do your introduction, or two pages. Don’t think beyond that. As one of the great listmakers of the universe, I give myself a timetable, with targets of a certain number of words or pages to do a day, but you don’t need to go to those lengths. Do a little at a time - bird by bird, in fact – and the essay/thesis/novel will get written.

DRAFT, DRAFT, DRAFT

I’m also a big fan of drafts. The thought of turning out perfect prose at the first attempt is too intimidating, so I start with a rough, rubbishy draft, and then I expand it to make a full draft, and as a last step, I expand again and polish. I’m terrified by the blank page and always find it easier to work from something, however crappy (and believe me, it can be very crappy at this stage, as I am discovering, going back to a rough draft after the Christmas break!)

Oh dear, this seems to be turning into a very long post. Pithy is something I just can’t do. But having started, as they say, I’m going to finish, and besides, it’s not often I get the encouragement to pontificate. So just two more points.

KEEP IT SIMPLE

Writing is about communication. It’s about getting what’s inside your head into someone else’s head, and it’s a powerful tool. Often people are afraid of writing, especially in a formal context like academic essays and dissertations, and they make their language too complicated. Clear is not the same as casual. Cut any word that doesn’t come naturally to you and replace it with one that does. This applies as much to fiction writers as to everyone else. Avoid elaborate constructions or the passive voice or jargon. They’re all horrible to read. If you’re not confident about your writing, start by simply writing down what you would say out loud.

For an academic essay, of course, you’ll need to expand contractions (“don’t” becomes “do not”, “he’ll” becomes “he will” etc.) but you can do that at the polishing stage. For your first draft, just write it as you would say it, and the moment you find yourself trying to impress with a clever word, stop, and stick with the one you thought of in the first place! A final draft will allow you to polish, check for missing words and misplaced commas and apostrophes (see below) and run a spell check. Sloppy presentation won’t affect the meaning of what you have written, but it will make it less effective, as it will be so much harder to read. And why irritate your tutor/editor unnecessarily?

PERFECT PUNCTUATION

Last, but absolutely not least, learn how to punctuate correctly. In particularly, make sure you know how to use a full stop! Too often people lose themselves in the middle of a sentence and shove in a random comma. This is one of my pet hates, so please, please, don’t do it. Read your sentence out loud. If you run out of breath, it’s too long and complicated. If in doubt, keep it short and sweet, stop and start a new sentence.

And while I’m at it, learn how to use an apostrophe too. It isn’t difficult! The easiest way to remember is to think that the apostrophe stands for something that’s missing – which I could have written as ‘that is missing’ instead, but that isn’t (is not) in keeping with the informal style of this blog! There are various websites telling you how to use an apostrophe if you’re not sure, or if you want to brush up your punctuation (and you should if you want to write effectively!) Jenny Haddon has written a clear and very useful book just for you called Getting the Point, and I thoroughly recommend that you, er, get it.

Top Writing Blogs Award nomination!

2012-01-08T06:39:00.000-08:00

Well, knock me down with a feather and all that. Last week I learnt that this blog - yes, THIS blog!! - had been nominated for a Top Writing Blogs Award! After I’d picked my jaw off the floor, I read the message again to see if it was a joke, but apparently not - or if it is, it's a very elaborate one.

The awards, it seems, are hosted by eCollegefinder, an established online education resource representing over 120 accredited online institutions, and they’re intended, I gather, to provide students with a collection of "helpful and encouraging blogs from authors, publishers, book reviewers, writing experts, and talented bloggers". The nominated blogs are ones that they hope will “inspire and teach” their student readers to “find their writing style and improve their skills, whether the students are writing an essay for Composition 101 or starting their first novel”.

Inspiring? I like that. Excuse me while I have a little preen. In truth, I think what I liked best about the nomination was discovering that someone in the great ‘out there’ beyond my small but perfectly formed band of loyal followers (and you know who you are, although probably not how much I appreciate you!) was actually reading the blog at all.

I have to admit that it all seems deeply unlikely to me. How on earth did they stumble across this blog, in all the millions of blogs out there? They must have alighted here on a day when I was dishing out some writing tips, as I can’t imagine my more normal wittering (like today, in fact) would garner any nominations for anything other than wasting cyberspace.

Anyway, one of the requirements of accepting the nomination was to provide a brief description of the blog, and to offer some equally brief tips on writing for students, so I did stop and have a think about that.

I’ve often thought about offering a course on everyday writing, called something stern like “How to use a full stop” or “Shaping up sloppy sentences”, and now’s my chance. I am seizing on eCollegeFinder’s suggestion of expanding my advice into a one-off blog. Next time I’ll be aiming things squarely at students, and we’ll just see how many of them flock here to pick up tips on writing that essay …

Start the way you mean to go on ...

2012-01-04T11:37:00.000-08:00

Well, so much for my plans for a relaxed year. Four days into 2012, and I am already frantically leafing through my diary, wondering how on earth I’m going to fit everything in. There was a time when I had a reputation as a recluse, when I was super disciplined and sternly refused to go out when I was writing. I think I may be having a delayed adolescence as now it’s all about a social life and weekends away and holidays and oh, yeah, I’d better write a couple of books too ...

I had my kitchen and attic bedroom repainted while I was away over Christmas and the New Year, so there is stuff everywhere, and I still haven’t properly unpacked after two weeks away. I got home yesterday evening, and all I seem to have done so far is create more mess. All the clutter is making me twitchy but it seems too hard to deal with it. I keep picking things up and putting them down again and feeling ineffectual, which is not a good start to the year.

Anyway, time for me to lash myself back to my keyboard. Revisions for Time’s Echo first, and then it’s back to Frith and George, whose story got rather shelved in the post-nose, pre-Christmas limbo. The much-trumpeted We’ll Always Have Paris is finally out in the UK this month, although I still don’t know when it’ll be released in North America.

First, though, I’ll be in London on Friday 13th January, for the opening of “Caddington Hall”, the fifth and final exhibition in the project (Now that would be) Telling which features works by artist Hayley Lock and five writers in different genres, including me. I wrote a short piece in the style of a Regency romance, based on a portrait for the project,. I’ve always loved Regencies, so it was fun to try my hand at it, and I’ll be reading an excerpt at the opening. I’ve never done a reading before, so if you’re in London, do come along! Details below.

(Now that would be) Telling at Caddington Hall opens on Friday 13 January 2011 at six o’clock in the evening at Transition Gallery, Unit 25a (second floor) Regent Studios, 8 Andrews Road, London E8 4QN. Featuring new work by Miss Hayley Lock and a commissioned text by Miss Jessica Hart, curated by Miss Catherine Hemelryk. The opening will be followed by a reading of the text by Miss Jessica Hart. All most welcome.

(Now that would be) Telling is on view until 5 February 2012 during normal opening times.

“Caddington Hall was a grand residence in rural Bedfordshire, sadly demolished in the 1970s. Hayley Lock has created a new series of works for Caddington depicting lovers of a Lady of the House in sumptuous velvets, brocades gilt and fringing referencing interiors of a bygone era and digitally manipulated landscapes that play out stories of their love. Scandal and romance collide further with romance novelist Jessica Hart’s short story that accompanies the exhibition.”

Looking back, looking forward

2011-12-21T06:39:00.000-08:00

Time's Echo ... all 130,000 words of it

It's that time of year. It's too close to Christmas to concentrate on work so I've been looking back on 2011 instead, and letting out a long 'phew' at deadlines made that seemed almost impossible at the beginning of the year.

But somehow or another, it all got done, with the exception of a second romance. I've done a rough draft, but decided not to beat myself up about not finishing it completely. It's my first job of 2012, and in the meantime, I'm thinking positive and giving myself a pat on the back for the things I did do this year.

They include writing We'll Always Have Paris and a ‘time slip’ now called Time’s Echo; researching and writing a history of the Merchant Adventurers of York, and editing an illustrated book on the same; writing a short piece in the style of a Regency romance, based on a portrait, for an exhibition called (Now That Would Be) Telling which opens in London in January; and teaching: a ten-week evening course, a one day Crash Course in Writing Romance, and a week-long course on writing popular fiction in Tuscany.

Oh, and I’ve explored the idea of whether reunion romances can work in real life as well as in fiction (still a work in progress!) and had a lovely time walking walking the Lycian Way in May, and spending long weekends away in Scotland, London, Yorkshire, Wiltshire, Cambridge, Brighton and Tuscany. Yep, all in all, it's been a great year!

Now I’m looking forward to 2012. We’ll Always Have Paris is out in the UK in January and I hope will be released in North America too, although I’m having trouble finding out exactly when! Time’s Echo will be published on 30 August, so that will be very exciting.

Less excitingly (for me, anyway) I’m going to have to get to grips with a new website and tackle more social media stuff too. Apparently I have to learn to Twitter … aaarrrgghh … while still in a terrible muddle on Facebook, where I’ve been trying without success to switch from a personal profile to a page. I’ll have to sort that out next year! I’ll be writing another ‘time slip’ and a couple of romances, and teaching another one day course on Writing Romance in June.

So a much less frenzied year, I hope, but we never know what’s round the corner, so I’m making the most of the good times now. In that spirit, I’m shutting down my computer tomorrow, and won’t be switching it on again until I get back from Christmas and New Year celebrations in Scotland and Wiltshire.

A HUGE thank you to everyone who’s read and commented on this blog over the year, and made me feel as if I’m not wittering on alone. I wish you all a very, very happy Christmas and a peaceful and prosperous 2012, full of wonderful books to be written and read.

Jessica x

Christmas contest winners!

2011-12-16T06:07:00.000-08:00

I promised a list of winners today, so here, without further ado, as they say, they are:

Tora Williams

Sleepysian

Louise Reynolds

Do email me your addresses at jessica@jessicahart.co.uk and I will put a copy of WE’LL ALWAYS HAVE PARIS in the post to you as soon as I can.

I’ve just had editorial comments on the time slip I spent the summer writing, and they are minimal, so that’s made my Christmas, if not my entire year! I’ve been in limbo for the last couple of weeks while I waited to hear back, but it’s been quite nice to drift and I’ve kept myself amused buying Christmas presents, transcribing sixteenth-century court records (don’t ask!) and building myself a Christmas tree.

I’d love to be able to say this was my idea, but I pinched it off Facebook, where someone posted a photo of a beautiful life-size tree made entirely of books. I have to say it was much better than mine, but mine was built from spare copies of my books in various obscure languages and I had a lovely time doing it. Five minutes after I draped round the lights and switched them on, a passer-by dropped a home-made cardboard decoration through my door. It read: That’s tree-mendous.

Talking of Facebook, I’m going to be deleting my profile on Sunday. I know this will mean losing all my friends at one fell swoop, but I now have an author page, and since I’ll be setting up one for the time slip next year, I’ve decided to rationalise. So if you’d like to keep in touch on Facebook, you can find me at:

https://www.facebook.com/jessicahartromancewriter

I hope you’ll come and ‘see’ me there!

We'll Always Have Paris: Christmas contest!

2011-12-11T13:36:00.000-08:00

Clara is a production assistant for a TV film-making company and she’s got a new project. Romance: Fact or Fiction is make-or-break for Clara’s future, and her first challenge is to get Simon Valentine, financial guru turned prime-time pin-up, to front the programme. But Simon’s got no time for romance, real or fictional, and it’s going to take all Clara’s powers of persuasion, not to mention a broken wrist, to get him on board.

I was going to explain the premise of the programme, but why don’t I let Clara tell you for herself?

Apart from directions to the flat she shared in a shabby street in south-west London, the journey passed in silence. Clara folded her lips together and heroically refrained from reminding Simon of his mother’s promise, but she knew that he was thinking about it. Whenever she peeped a glance at him from under lashes, she could see a muscle jerking in his jaw.

Miraculously, Simon managed to find parking space only a little way down the street from Clara’s flat. He switched off the engine, but neither of them moved.

Clara and Simon film a segment of the programme on the Pont Neuf in Paris

The silence lengthened. His jaw was still working, Clara noted. It would be a mistake to say anything, but he could do with just a tiny push.

Lifting her arm in its sling, she winced. Not too much. Just enough to suggest great pain, bravely borne, but not so bravely that he didn’t notice. It was a delicate balance.

‘Oh, all right!’ Simon ground out as if she had been nagging him for the entire journey.

Clara opened her eyes at him, all innocence. ‘What?’

‘I’ll do your bloody programme, all right?’ he snarled. ‘There’s no need to keep going on about it!’

‘I didn’t say a word,’ protested Clara, careful to conceal her jubilance.

‘You didn’t need to. I know perfectly well you registered what my mother said. You must promise to let us know if there’s ever anything we can do for you,’ he mimicked Frances savagely. ‘One of these days I’m going to wring her neck!’

‘It won’t be that bad, honestly.’ Now that he was on the point of agreeing, Clara perversely began to feel a little sorry for him. ‘We’re not asking you to take part in any stunts or cheap tricks. Ted is a brilliant director. MediaOchre has won several awards for documentaries we’ve made, and we’re expecting this one to be just as successful.’‘Oh, don’t do that! She’s so lovely.’

Far from agreeing, Simon blew out a breath and glowered through the windscreen. ‘You’d better tell me what she’s let me in for,’ he said heavily.

Clara and Simon sit on a beach just like this

She could hardly believe she was getting to do the speech she had practised so carefully at last. This was worth a broken wrist!

‘Romance: Fact or Fiction? will be a serious examination of romance,’ she assured him. ‘We’re going to look at what it is and how it works and why it’s so popular around the world, but we want to get beyond the clichés.’

‘Right.’ Simon’s voice dripped disbelief.

‘Your presence will give the programme real gravitas,’ Clara went on, ignoring his scepticism. ‘Stella Holt is incredibly popular at the moment, so she’ll represent the ‘romantic’ idea while you would be in the ‘anti romance’ camp, if you like. I know Stella is very keen to work with you on this,’ she added. ‘We think the contrast between the two of you will make for intriguing television.’

‘Intriguing television … ye gods.’ Simon rubbed a hand over his face. ‘I can’t believe I’m even listening to this!’

Clearly she wasn’t converting him to the idea. Clara ploughed on. ‘The plan is to shoot the film in three classic “romantic” locations. One will be Paris, obviously.’

‘I thought you were going to avoid clichés?’

Benn Eighe, Dec1994, or the view Clara wakes up to!

‘We’re testing the clichés,’ she said firmly. ‘After Paris, we’ll film on a tropical island, and for the last segment, Ted wants me to find somewhere wild and stormy – a cottage in the Highlands, for instance.’ She looked at him hopefully. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think it’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard,’ said Simon, not mincing his words. ‘What’s it supposed to prove?’

‘Well, for a start, we’ll consider whether those places are romantic or not – will you feel more romantic when you’re there, and do they make you behave differently?’

‘I can tell you now that I won’t,’ he said, his mouth set in an implacable line ‘I don’t do romance.’

‘Then that’s what you’ll say.’ Clara kept her voice calm. It was like dealing with a skittish horse. Having got this close, she didn’t want to spook him now, before she’d slipped that bridle over his head and got him to finally agree. She was almost there. Already her fingers were itching to pull out her phone and call Ted with the news.

Simon sighed again, rubbed his hand over his face again. Reluctance incarnate.

‘So it would just be those three trips?’

‘Three short trips, which we would accommodate those to your schedule, of course. For you it’ll mean free trips to Paris, the Indian Ocean and Scotland,’ Clara added, still in economist whisperer mode. ‘That can’t be bad, can it?’

Oops, wrong thing to say. ‘If there’s one thing people need to understand about the economy, it’s that there’s no such thing as “free”,’ said Simon quellingly. ‘Everything has to be paid for somewhere along the line.’

‘I can assure you we wouldn’t be asking you to pay anything.’

‘I’d be paying with my professional reputation. And my time.’

Personally, Clara would have thought the chance to go to the tropical island of St Bonaventure alone was worth the trade, but she bit her lip on the comment.

‘We’d make all the arrangements,’ she said, trying another tack. ‘You wouldn’t have to do anything but turn up and do your piece to the camera.’

‘And if I agree, will you shut up and leave me alone?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘No more phone calls, no more emails, no more throwing yourself at muggers?’

‘Well, I’d need to get in touch with you about travel arrangements, but other than that, you won’t even know I exist,’ promised Clara. **

I had great fun writing this story. Simon is one of my favourite heroes, quiet, restrained, and driven to distraction by Clara with her zest for life and her ability to sing all the words to The Sound of Music.

And of course, I got to write about some of my favourite places in the world. I've just spent a happy afternoon going through my photo albums (cue much wistful sighing) in search of some pictures of Paris, tropical islands and the Highlands in winter, but I realised that there were so many other wonderfully romantic places I could have used as settings for Clara's programme instead.

The Australian outback is high on my list of romantic places, and what about listening to the rain on a tropical verandah, or watching the feluccas on the Nile as the sun sets? And don’t even get me started on Africa or deserts or the combination of hills and sea anywhere in the world …

The Nile at Luxor

We’ll Always Have Paris is out in the UK in January (I’m still waiting to find out when it’s released in North America). I’ve got three free copies to give away. If you’d like to win one of them, leave a comment below letting me know the place you think is most romantic, and I’ll put you in a draw for Friday 16th December. Don’t forget to check back then to see if you’re a winner!

**From the book: We’ll Always Have Paris

By: Jessica Hart
Imprint and series Harlequin® Romance™
Copyright © 2012
By: Jessica Hart
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For more romance information surf to: http://www.eHarlequin.com

Websites, pet hates and a chance to win my newest book

2011-12-07T07:56:00.000-08:00

Hooray … after a number of weeks stuck with my wheels spinning uselessly, I am finally back on track and slowly (slowly being the operative word) gathering momentum again.

Who knows what made the difference? It could have been setting myself such tiny, achievable targets that I could hardly fail to make them every day, or it might have been the good ticking off I had from my best friend, who told me in no uncertain terms that I had to ‘get on with it’. Or maybe I was just bored and ready to start thinking again. Whatever the reason, I’m now back to juggling various projects and feeling much more myself.

One of the projects I’m ready to get to grips with is a new website for my “time slips”. Time’s Echo is to be published next October, and as that will be published under my real name, I’ll need a completely new identity. I’ve been looking around at website designers and am trying to draw up a detailed specification of exactly what I want.

Do you have any pet hates when it comes to websites? What will make you stay and look around a site, rather than click away? If you’ve got any thoughts on what makes for an appealing website, do let me know, and as a thank you, I’ll put anyone who’s commented below into a draw for a copy of my next book, We’ll Always Have Paris.

Still on the internet, I’ve been trying to set up an author page on Facebook. Can’t for the life of me work out how to set up a ‘Like’ box, so have given up on that, but if you’re on Facebook and would care to pop over and ‘like’ me anyway, that would be fab. You can find me here until I can find someone to sort out an icon for me!

Oh, and don't forget there's a chance to win a book and get some great recipe ideas every day at the moment at Harlequin Romance Authors' website.

Party time!

2011-12-05T06:16:00.000-08:00

Not sure how we got to December when a minute ago it was January, but suddenly it’s almost Christmas. Why not kick off the festive season by visiting Harlequin Romance authors at our newly re-launched website where we have Christmas recipes and books galore to give away.

I hate the word ‘supportive’ – always feel as if I should say it in a dreary voice with my mouth turned down – but it really is the best one to describe my fellow Harlequin Romance authors. We are split into Cherish and RIVA authors in the UK, but we share an email loop, and a kinder and more generous group of women it would be hard to find.

We’ve had a website for some time, but we felt it needed refreshing, and largely thanks to the indefatigable Donna Alward, we are now up and running. We’ve been getting into the mood for Christmas by smacking our lips over each other’s recipes, and are all ready to parcel up our books to send off to winning readers.

All you need to do is to visit the Harlequin Romance Authors' website and comment, and you’ll go into the draw for the author featured that day. Lots of your favourite HR authors are there, so it’s a great chance to win some wonderful books to read over the holiday season.

I’ll be there some time soon, too, with my recipe for Spiced Pears, which I make every Christmas to serve with gammon and a potato gratin. It’s great if you have lots of people round and want to get everything done in advance, and the pears add a festive touch.

When it's my turn, I’ll be offering a copy of Under The Boss’s Mistletoe, largely because it’s got a Christmassy cover (one of the few covers I’ve actually liked!) but because I’m in the mood for giving, I’ll also send a copy of We’ll Always Have Paris to whoever wins that day for a sneak preview.

I’m not sure when I’ll be up, but there are recipes and books up for grabs every day, so pop over and see who’s around, and sooner or later you’ll find me there …

Motivation, lack of

2011-11-30T01:56:00.000-08:00

If you were expecting this to be a craft blog on how to keep motivated when writing after 58 books, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you because when it comes to motivation, I have, it seems, completely lost it for the 59th.

I was inclined to blame this on a lack of inspiration at first, but I think feeling unmotivated is different. I’ve got an idea, I’ve got a plot. I’ve got characters with goals and motivations. I’d like to write this story, I really would, but somehow I just can’t quite bring myself to do it.

Lack of motivation isn’t the same as block, which is a terrible thing. Block is when you sit at your computer, staring at the screen, fingers frozen to the keyboard, feeling sick as a great tangle of words knots and lodges immovably in the pit of your stomach … ugh, I feel quite nauseous just thinking about it!

Lack of motivation is less dramatic, but more insidious. Now I can’t even get myself to sit at my computer at all, and if I do, I just spend my time checking my email, or drifting off to browse Amazon or check on the weather in countries I have no expectation of visiting in the near future. And weirdly, I’m not even bothered by it.

I can trot out plenty of explanations for this: I’m deadlined out; I’ve been getting over a general anaesthetic; I’ve been away, and now have visitors; my head is still in time slip mode and I’m waiting to hear what revisions are needed that; I’m not living from advance to advance the way I normally am. But these are explanations and not excuses, I know, and I am rather ashamed of myself, especially when I hear about other authors getting on with their writing under the most difficult of circumstances.

It may not be very cool to admit it, but for me the financial incentive is usually a very strong one. Thanks to advance on the time slip, I've been in a more comfortable position this year, but I still can’t afford to give up my regular income from Harlequin. If I don’t write a book now, it won’t have any immediate effect, but in two or three years’ time, it certainly will, and if the time slip isn’t a success, I will surely regret faffing around now. The trouble is that I really can’t whip myself into a frenzy about something that may or may not happen in two years’ time.

The real problem is that I don’t have a deadline. I had so many earlier this year that I agreed with my editor that I would write the book and then we’d talk about a contract. Which is all very well, but I hadn’t realised then that my motivation would collapse like a popped balloon the moment the last deadline of the year was made. So the obvious solution is to set myself a new deadline but you guessed it … I can’t bring myself to do that either. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get my act together, but in the meantime, at least I’ve got most of my Christmas shopping done and it's not even December yet!