Wallpaper western?

So as I sit here getting ready to hit “send” and whoosh Wild Wild West across the internet to The Big Apple, I’m contemplating the phrase “wallpaper historicals” and wondering if I’ve written a wallpaper western. Since I was writing three novellas, I did not put in as much setting and background detail as I normally would in a novel; I was very aware of the space I had to work with. I did open with a very detailed scene setting, and I established the tone and atmosphere of the overall setting (Montana), and touched on important features. I talked about horses and sheep. BUT. I did not go into full graphic, sensory detail because some things are just best left out.

For instance, there’s a brief discussion of the benefits of raising the hardy Icelandic breed of sheep. There is no discussion of the trauma of sheep dip.

Why would sheep dip even cross my mind? Weird but true, one of my uncles once offered to get me a job dipping sheep. There may be a worse job out there than dipping sheep, but none comes to mind. For years this was my standing joke and fall-back plan. “If this doesn’t work out, I can always dip sheep.” Because sheep dipping is a job that will always be in demand. I’m not sure if any studies have ever been done on it, but I’d be willing to believe that sheep dipping is a job that anybody who has done once is never willing to do again.

(Now that I’ve studied the characteristics of Icelandics, however, I’ve upgraded my fallback plan to “if this doesn’t work out, I can always raise Icelandics”. Somebody else can dip them.)

Where was I? Realistic western setting versus wallpaper. You know, now that I think about it, there is such a thing as too much realistic detail in a romance novel.

*click* *SEND*

The End

I realized why I’m obsessing more over the third novella than I did over the first two. It’s because the third novella has a big job to do. The first one doubles as the first act of the overall anthology, and it’s job is to set up the three couples, and provide a fun and entertaining read. The second novella doubles as the second act, so it needed to match the first for entertainment value and also build towards the third novella while being a satisfying story in itself. The third novella doubles as the third act of the overall whole, and emotionally it IS the big black moment. In other words, while it needs to act as a complete, whole story in itself it is also the emotional climax of the entire three-story combination.

The saying goes that the first chapter sells the book (in this case, the first novella) but the last chapter sells the next book (which would be the third novella) and it’s just crucial that the ending hit hard, emotionally, and resolve completely. Because that’s the impression the reader will carry away.

It’s not like any part of a book can be fluffed or doesn’t matter, but some parts carry more weight, I think, and I’m just very aware of how important this section is, not just to this story but to the overall whole of the book. I will probably not relax until I’ve heard back from some readers because while it may work in my head, that doesn’t mean it works on paper, in somebody else’s head.

Koontz, echoes, the next book

Finished The Husband by Dean Koontz yesterday. I started it yesterday, too. Typical Koontz vortex, I couldn’t put it down. Very twisty. I like his unlikely, ordinary heroes, his twisty plots, and his descriptions. The wife’s internal description of how she wanted to leave her husband feeling flattened after it was over slayed me.

I like the ending of novella #3, it has an echo. I like echoes. Not always, sometimes they feel contrived and annoying, but I like this one.

In addition to Koontz and echoes, I did come up with one cover concept that I really like for Wild Wild West yesterday and we’ll see how that goes over. I also went over what I’d like to propose for the next book to see how much work I’d need to do to have it ready to send off. Not much, write the synopsis and add about 4K. And I wrote another piece of the Other Book that is Out There, which I’m really looking forward to finishing when I’ve cleared the decks of all my other projects and commitments.

Cover concepts!

Working on cover concepts for Wild Wild West already. Wow! St. Martin’s is moving right along. I’m looking at images and brainstorming and putting together ideas to propose so that I can at least convey what I think is important and what I’d like the cover to show. Which doesn’t mean I’ll have any real say in the final product, but when I’m asked for input I don’t want to waste the opportunity!

It’s a tall order, I want it to look erotic, contemporary, western and humorous. Yeah, that’ll be easy. If I can get a contemporary-looking cover that shows a sense of playful eroticism I’ll be very, very happy. Okay, really, I’m happy no matter what, but I do think it’s important that the tone of the book is reflected in the cover, so a reader has a sense of what kind of story to expect. Which is much harder than it sounds. Cover artists have a really difficult job.

I wanna by Wordy Harry

Results are in for the 2006 Bulwer-Lytton contest!
An international literary parody contest, the competition honors the memory (if not the reputation) of Victorian novelist Edward George Earl Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873). The goal of the contest is the essence of simplicity: entrants are challenged to submit bad opening sentences to imaginary novels. Although best known for “The Last Days of Pompeii” (1834), which has been made into a movie three times, originating the expression “the pen is mightier than the sword,” and phrases like “the great unwashed” and “pursuit of the almighty dollar,” Bulwer-Lytton opened his novel Paul Clifford (1830) with the immortal words that the “Peanuts” beagle Snoopy plagiarized for years, “It was a dark and stormy night.”
Winner:
Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you’ve had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
Jim Guigli
Carmichael, CA
Runner-Up:
“I know what you’re thinking, punk,” hissed Wordy Harry to his new editor, “you’re thinking, ‘Did he use six superfluous adjectives or only five?’ – and to tell the truth, I forgot myself in all this excitement; but being as this is English, the most powerful language in the world, whose subtle nuances will blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel loquacious?’ – well do you, punk?”
Stuart Vasepuru
Edinburgh, Scotland