When I was thirteen I was a huge fan of Battlestar Gallactica. I didn’t just dream of growing up to marry Richard Hatch, I dreamed of marrying Apollo. In my mind there wasn’t a difference between the two.
A reader once mentioned that she knew Tori would end up with Jesse because all of my heroes had dark hair. (In my defense, the tally in books at the time was something like ten brunet guys to three blond ones. After that, I purposely wrote the next two heroes with blond hair, but yeah, I’m still way behind.) Richard Hatch–or rather, Apollo, is the reason why so many of my heroes have dark hair. Now, before you get defensive in my husband’s behalf, (he’s blond) I tried to put my husband in a romance novel once. I had to fire him after the first day. My husband is such a laid-back peacemaker that he just wouldn’t fight with the heroine. (Which is great in real life but not good in novels which need conflict.)
When I found out that Richard Hatch passed away yesterday, well, it’s been a sad day for me.
Jesse in the Slayers series is based on a younger version of Richard. What teenage girl wouldn’t fall for this guy? Or here’s another picture. Today, I kept thinking How can I imagine Jesse doing things in the Slayers series when Richard Hatch died? It seems like his likeness should have vanished from my mind or something. Which of course is ridiculous. Imagination doesn’t work that way. But still, everything has felt a little off and wrong today. My own mortality has been standing on my porch, looking in through the windows.
I’ve also been thinking about the time I met Richard sixteen years ago. He was doing a day-long seminar on embracing your fear, and this was taking place in Sedona not far from where I lived. I couldn’t pass up a chance to meet my childhood idol.
It was a memorable meeting, to say the least. I was so nervous. I was afraid he would look at me and then look over me like I wasn’t enough. I mean, isn’t that what celebrities do?
Instead, he was so kind to everyone. (And he told me I looked like one of his old girlfriends, so you know, validation…) He asked to see pictures of my kids and told me they were beautiful. He said my husband was lucky to have me. He hugged everyone in the group (and made us hug everyone in the group) and kissed me on the cheek. I don’t remember what I paid for that seminar. But it was worth every dollar and then some in self-esteem points.
I had brought a copy of Masquerade to the seminar because he was in the dedication, and I wanted to give him the book. (I’ll quote my journal from that time here)
Towards the end of breakfast, Richard looked over at me and said, “I recognize you. You’ve been to my seminars before.”
“No, we’ve never met,” I said.
“Really?” he asked. “You look so familiar. I could’ve sworn I’d seen you before.”
“It must’ve been that poster I had of you in junior high. I knew you could really hear me when I was talking to you.”
So much for portraying an air of sophistication. Oh well, I suppose he was bound to discover the truth about me sooner or later. I mean, how do you remain sophisticated while telling a stranger you put them in the dedication of your romance novel?
I was a little worried about how I was going to work that detail into casual conversation. He was there to give a seminar. How was I going to give him my book? (“I’m not sure if you like reading romance novels, Mr. Hatch. But I thought I’d give you this one…”)
As it turned out, I couldn’t have scripted the conversation better if I’d written it myself. At lunch (yes, he sat next to me then too,) I asked him about how he wrote his books and mentioned that I was a writer too.
“Have you ever sent anything out?” he asked. Why do people always assume I’m unpublished?
“Yes, my fifth book is coming out next July.”
“Really? Did you bring any with you?” (An odd question. I mean, how many authors travel with copies of their books?)
“As a matter of fact, I did. I brought one to give to you because you’re in the dedication.”
He didn’t even seem surprised. Maybe movie stars are used to frequenting book dedications.
Anyway, after lunch, I gave him a copy of my book. He read the entire dedication out loud and said, “That’s beautiful. You’re a poet.”
My best review ever.
He was not Apollo, and yet he was deeper than I expect most Hollywood stars are. The things he said about overcoming obstacles were profound. The theme of his seminar was embracing your fear instead of avoiding it. This was a new thought for me, but I understood the philosophy behind it. If you avoid doing things that make you afraid, you’ll never leave your comfort zone. You’ll never accomplish all the things you’re capable of. If we fear failure or we give up once we’ve failed, we stop living.
He talked about this for awhile and told us that we needed to let ourselves feel fear, embrace it for what it does for us (gives us energy.) We should take that energy and use it instead of trying to push fear away.
As part of the seminar, we were to climb a thirty-five-foot pole, do a rope course, and then jump off a platform and zipline to the ground.(More quoting from my journal here.)
While we went to the course, Richard asked us to talk about our fears. I said, “If I told you my biggest fear was that I was going to break off all of my fingernails, would you think I’m shallow?”
He didn’t answer. One of the other women laughed and said, “That’s not shallow; that’s protecting your investment.”
Richard told us the story of the first time he did a ropes course. He went up as fast as he could then immediately did the macho thing. He did a kamikaze dive off the top. He said when he got to the ground he felt pumped up and exhilarated until his instructor started asking him about the experience. Things like “Why didn’t you look around while you were up there? Why didn’t you take your time to enjoy the experience?”
Richard realized he hadn’t been exhilarated; he’d been scared to death and so he’d done what he’d always done in life. He clenched his fists, shut his eyes, and dove in. He suddenly saw the ropes course as a metaphor for his own life, for how he dealt with problems. He’d been scared, so he done a dive instead of completing the exercise. He’d covered his emotions up with machismo. He said the experience haunted him for three years until he did the ropes course again at another seminar. This time he did it the right way. He embraced his fear.
As I watched everybody else do the ropes course, I began to get a little nervous. I knew the harness would keep me from splattering to the ground, but I worried that I might fall and swing into one of the poles and thus break all of my teeth out. I really didn’t want to look foolish. Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps pride can conjure up worse fears than walking on a shaking log high above the ground.
As I was waiting for my turn, Richard came up and stood beside me. “Are you afraid?”
“Well, I wasn’t until I saw Lorraine screaming up there.”
He smiled at me in a teasing way. “You just came to the seminar to say hello to me and now I’m making you do stuff.”
“Yeah. I had to hug people and now this.”
He gave me his glasses to hold while he went up. He did the course quickly, confidently.
I wasn’t going to do less on my turn. I went up without hesitation and walked pretty smoothly across the swaying log. The only problem came when the rope on the harness got stuck and I couldn’t move forward for the last foot. I was supposed to reach over and touch the far pole with my hand but the rope wouldn’t let me move forward. I figured if I lunged forward I might get the rope unstuck but in all probability I’d also lose my balance and perhaps some of my teeth too. So instead of touching the pole with my hand, I lifted my foot and touched it that way.
Now that I think about it, that’s kind of scary thing to do–stand on one leg on a suspended log, but at the time I didn’t even think about it. Then I walked to the middle of the log and as we were required, put my arms up, my head back, and leaned backwards. Next, I walked to the end of the log and climbed up on the platform. I sat and looked around while I waited for the staff guy to change ropes on my harness so I could jump off the platform and slide down the wire. I was the most nervous then because I’d seen the group before me sort of fall and then jerk back up as they slid. I don’t like falling and I was afraid the jerk would hurt my back. I called down, “I can’t believe I paid for this.”
Richard called up to me, “How do you feel?”
“I want something to embrace besides my fear,” I yelled back and then I jumped. The surprising part was that it was fun. It felt just like sliding through the air. If I could have done it again, I would have. As I returned to the ground, Richard walked up to me.
“That was fun,” I said.
He laughed and told me he’d known all along I was spunky. Then as we strolled back to the others he said, “I can tell you have a way with words.”
“Well I am a writer,” I said. “But so are you.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s how I can tell you have a way with words.”
Could I have planned out things for him to tell me to validate me more?
When we watched the video of ourselves on the ropes, someone pointed out that I had a smile on my face during the whole time. I could tell it was a nervous smile while I was crossing the log, but nevertheless, it was a smile.
That got me thinking about the whole ropes-as-a-metaphor-for-life thought. During my time up on the course, I was joking around, shooting off clever one-liners instead of doing something sensible like screaming. Why do I do that? Do I use joking as a defense mechanism? Do I joke around to keep people at a distance, to keep them from knowing what is serious and important to me? Perhaps I just see life differently than other people. I don’t know. Richard wanted us to do soul-searching, and I guess it worked.
It’s been sixteen years since I did that rope course, and I still think about it sometimes. To tell you the truth, I still don’t know the answers to those questions.
Richard, you made me think, you made me dream, and for one short day, you made me feel really good about myself. More than a million people have lived part of my teenage crush on you as they’ve read my books. You will be missed.
If you want to read about my version of Richard Hatch (and Dirk Benedict)
My novella, A Brush With the Law is in the Valentine’s Day Timeless Romance anthology. You can buy your copy here: Click this link, lovelies, to take you to Amazon
Check out these 19 free ebooks available when you sign up for the author’s newsletter–Plus four people will win 10$ Amazon gift cards
Mine in the group is My Double Life
Every once in a while I give writing advice on my blog. Someone asked me if they should publish with a certain publisher. Here are my thoughts on the subject.
Smaller publishers come and go every year, and some stick around for decades (and some go out of business quickly and don’t ever pay their authors royalties.) The questions you need to ask before choosing any publisher are:
1) How much do they pay in advances? Specifically, how much will they pay you? If they don’t pay anything, avoid them. If they pay under 10k, consider them carefully. Generally, if a publisher doesn’t pay much of an advance, they won’t do a lot to market your book. If they don’t market it, it won’t sell well and bookstores might not even carry it.
If you’re unsure about a publisher or agent, you can get a trial subscription to Publishers Weekly and check to see their recent deals.
(The exception to this rule may be Kindle Scout. They pay 1,500 advances but you have Amazon’s expertise helping to sell your book, so the lower advance may be worth it.)
2) What is their marketing plan? Are they well connected to bookstores? Do their reps go to conferences and give out ARCs? How many ARCS will they be distributing?
3) What is their contract like? Make sure you have either an agent or a literary lawyer look over it and see if the publisher is grabbing rights they shouldn’t. Some contracts are so bad that they will literally enslave an author’s career. You want to make sure you can get your rights back after a few years when the print book is no longer selling. (Ebooks and print-on-demand copies shouldn’t constitute the book being in print.) The publisher shouldn’t ask for more than first rights of refusal on your next book in the same genre. You also want to make sure you can self-publish anything you want. There’s a lot more to look for in contracts, which again is why you need a professional to read it over.
4) Look at the list of books they’ve published and contact some of the authors. Ask them about their experience and if they’re happy with the publisher. I published one book with a small publisher and it was a disaster, but that doesn’t mean all small publishers are bad.
I don’t usually put my latest release on sale, but here it is anyway–along with some other great romantic comedies of mine that you’ll love. (And as always, every time you leave a review, another angel gets its wings…) This sale ends soon, so don’t wait!
Back in college, Marco Dawson never thought of Belle as anything more than a friend. If she had crossed his mind on his wedding day, it was probably only to wonder why she hadn’t shown up to be a bridesmaid. After all, his new wife was her old roommate. Seven years have passed since then, and Belle just found out that Marco is divorced and vacationing with his family in an elegant Cancun resort. She’s not about to let the right man get away twice. She heads to the resort where she plans to casually bump into Marco and ignite some romantic flames.
But Belle hadn’t planned on one thing: Flynn Dawson, Marco’s handsome, charming, and determined twin brother. He thinks Marco and his ex-wife can make amends and he’s not about to let Belle stand in the way.
Part Sabrina, part While You Were Sleeping, romantic comedy readers will eat this book up!
When Clarissa takes a much needed job under slightly false pretenses, she doesn’t think it will be such a big deal. She may have told her movie-star boss that she was married but that shouldn’t matter. After all, she doesn’t want anything to do with men for a long, long time.
It’s hard for a woman to keep up the masquerade when her boss is as handsome as Slade Jacobson and the job takes her to Hawaii with him. In between handling his whirlwind four-year-old daughter and dealing with a whole cast of Hollywood personalities, Clarissa has to keep a tight hold on her heart.
Masquerade is romantic comedy at its best–clean and funny with lots of heart.
Chelsea’s school year has taken a turn for the worse. After being dumped by her boyfriend and humiliated at the pep assembly by her younger sister’s boyfriend, Rick, she’s just concentrating on avoiding any other major embarrassments.
That’s when Rick and his band debut their new album, complete with a whole set of songs bashing cheerleaders. Chelsea’s humiliation has reached a whole new level now that everyone is walking down the halls singing the words to “Dangerously Blonde.”
It’s time to make Rick pay. All he wants is to win the High School Idol audition, so he can be on his way to rock star fame and fortune. But with the help of her best friends, Aubrie and Samantha, Chelsea is going to steal his victory right out from under him.
From the day Elsie’s big brother brought his friend Kye McBride over to their house, Elsie adored him. When she was eight, she secretly blew kisses to him. When she was twelve, she sat on the stairs, unnoticed, and watched him escort another girl to prom. When she was a senior in high school, she walked into math class and found out he was her new math teacher.
With that much emotion fueling her, things were bound to go wrong. And they did. Elsie not only spent the last two weeks of school avoiding him, she turned avoiding-Kye-at-all-costs into her life-long philosophy.
Now three years have passed and Elsie has come home for her brother’s wedding. She’s got to face Kye—hopefully without getting crushed again.
Publishers Weekly has called Janette’s romantic comedies “Hilarious.”
Perhaps by the time I’m finished with the book, I will remember that firestorm is one word. Although you probably shouldn’t hold your breath. I’ve written multiple books that involve either the Renaissance or renaissance festivals and I still spell the word wrong. Every. Single. Time.
Thank goodness for spellcheck.
Anyway, I am working on Slayers 4 again. I’m having a hard time getting excited about the book because I want to be already done with this series and it still needs so much work, and oh yeah, the climax and ending. It still needs that.
And–this is why I shouldn’t write series–I know at some point soon, I’m going to have to go back and reread all three books to make sure I’m not inadvertently changing facts and details.
I’ve said since book two that I was going to write two endings, one where she ends up with Jesse and one where she ends up with Dirk so that both camps will be happy. Oddly, even though the (super) rough draft is written up until the climax, I’m still not sure which version I’m writing now. I guess we’ll all be surprised…
In which I torment another poor heroine. Yes, there will be embarrassing mishaps that lead to a brush with the law and a hot policeman. And of course other great stories from other awesome authors. You can preorder it here: Preorder the Valentine’s Day Collection
Hey, I’ve started podcasting with writer friends Randy Lindsay, Brock Booher (and eventually Aaron Blaylock) about all things writing. I’ve got one podcast playing right now as I write this and I’m cringing at my voice. I know, I know, most people don’t like the way their voice sounds, but… sigh… Ok, here’s the thing: as some of you know, my mother got cancer when I was two, was sick for four years, and died when I was six. My Dad remarried when I was ten. But during my formative years, instead of hearing my mother’s lovely soprano voice, I mostly heard my father’s deep voice. I had a music teacher explain to me once that when this happens to girls they very often speak in a lower tone than they normally would.
I don’t think about this fact until I hear my voice on a recording and then I always think, why do I sound like that? Ahh! So, in future podcasts, I’m going to try and remember to sound lilting and not like I’m trying to impersonate a man.
But enough about my voice.
There are four 15-minute podcasts. I’m giving away a book per podcast to one of the commenters. (Chosen by Random.org) Also Randy Lindsay will be also giving away copies of one of his books as well as Ryan Hancock’s Uncommon Blue. (Ryan is also our friend, and some of you may know him as Darth Beta because he rips my stuff apart when he beta reads it.)
Here’s the link: Ready, Set, Write!
Books you can choose from are: My Fair Godmother, My Unfair Godmother, How to Take the Ex Out of Ex-boyfriend, My Double Life, It’s a Mall World After All, Just One Wish, Slayers, Slayers: Friends and Traitors, Erasing Time, Revenge of the Cheerleaders, Life, Love and the Pursuit of Free Throws, or Fame, Glory, and Other Things On My To-do List (Or Echo in Time if you’re willing to wait. I have it on order but don’t have it yet.