Romantic Times Award for Don't Tempt Me

Sorry, I have to brag:

Don't Tempt Me, which spent several weeks on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and went into a third printing, has received the 2009 RT Book Reviews Reviewers‘ Choice Award for Best Historical Love & Laughter.

Historical Romance thrives at Yale

Let me commence with with the quotation I swiped from the syllabus for "Reading Historical Romance, " taught by authors Lauren Willig and Andrea DaRif (w/a Cara Elliott):

“Although our [novels] have afforded more extensive and unaffected pleasure than those of any other literary corporation in the world, no species of composition has been so much decried.  From pride, ignorance, or fashion, our foes are as many as our readers….”

                -- Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey (1818)

I'm happy to report that while this continues to be true, at least 18 Yale students have a different point of view.  I was one of a panel invited to be interrogated by these students earlier in the week.  (L-R:  Lauren, Carrie Ferron of HarperCollins, Andrea, SB Sarah of Smart Bitches, Trashy Books, and me.)

These students are taking a course titled "Reading the Historical Romance"--a class I mentioned in a previous blog, whose required reading included, among other historical romances, my own Mr. Impossible.  Their thoughtful questions made me wish I'd been sitting in on all the classes.  It also made me wish we'd had more time to talk.  Our two-hour class was much too short.

Thank you, students, Andrea & Lauren, for a truly memorable day.

Mr. Impossible goes to Yale

Nerdy History Girl Susan Holloway Scott called my attention to this piece by George Eliot. 

I know that for some people, all romance novels are "silly novels by lady novelists." 

But I don't care what they say because I'm on a reading list at Yale.  Authors Lauren Willig and Cara Elliott are teaching a course called "Reading the Historical Romance"— and my very own Mr. Impossible is Required Reading!  Which is kind of funny, considering that the hero Rupert is...erm...well, no Einstein.  But there he is, in the hallowed halls of academe. 

That's Lauren on the left and Cara on the right.  And if various schedules can be made to mesh, I'll be meeting their students next month.

Last Night's Scandal in glorious purple

Last time I mentioned page proofs.  This is the first pass at the print version, when the book really starts to look like a book, and the author looks for the mistakes she missed, as mentioned in an earlier post, the previous ten thousand times she—not to mention the copy editor and various other editors—went over it.  No matter what, I always find mistakes in the page proofs that can't all be blamed on the printer.  Somehow all those eagle eyes on the manuscript missed, say, missing end quotes.  And then there are the sudden realizations, e.g., "What was I thinking?" or "Didn't anyone notice I used the same word three times in the same paragraph?" or "Wait a minute!  Isn't that an anachronism?" (It usually is.)

I'm happy to report that the page proof phase is now behind me, too, and the next thing I'll see, somewhere down the road, are the Advanced Reading Copies.

Then, before we know it, Last Night's Scandal will actually be on bookstore shelves—while I'm watching Deadline-for-the-next book loom ever larger upon the horizon.

But in the meantime, here for your delectation is the brand-new cover, before even Amazon has it.

Is it done yet?

After the usual frenzy attendant upon my finishing a book, the fifth book of the Carsington trilogy (I know) is now in production.  LAST NIGHT’S SCANDAL follows into adulthood Olivia and Peregrine, the two troublesome children of Book Four, LORD PERFECT. 

The thing with a manuscript is, it keeps coming back, like the undead.  We finish it—we think—and send it to our editors, who send it back for Revisions.  Revisions can involve anything from tweaking a few lines here and there to massive rewrites of less-than-deathless (as in OMG, I can’t believe I wrote that crap) prose.  Then we send it back again and a few weeks later, there it is on our doorstep, this time as a Copy Edit.  The copy editor has gone through the manuscript looking for errors and inconsistencies.  This phase usually requires our Gentle Author to scream quite a bit and bang her head against the wall in frustration.  Then the manuscript goes back with a lot of Stets (for the uninitiated—and you’d do well to stay that way, like a virgin—that means “put it back the way I wrote it”).

Several weeks later, there it is again, on the doorstep.  This time it’s Page Proofs.  But nowadays, thanks to so much being done electronically, this phase is fairly painless and even enjoyable.  We get to see the book the way it’ll look in print.  All we have to do is check for printer’s errors or our own mistakes we somehow missed in the ten thousand times we went over the manuscript already.

I’m not at that phase yet, but I’ll be sure to make a big deal about it when it’s done, because then, really, the book is done.  The next time I see it, it’ll have a cover and everything.

For LAST NIGHT’S SCANDAL, that will happen at the end of July 2010.  Since that’s a long way away, I’ll save talking about the book itself until we get closer to the date.  But for now you have an idea why a book takes so long after I “finish” it to get to the bookstore.

The Bride returns

Let’s face it. My brain simply isn’t big enough to finish writing a book, blog every other day or so at Two Nerdy History Girls, and blog here, too.

Now, though, I’ve sent off the copyedited manuscript (more about that later)—and the experience may well provide blog fodder. That leaves me in the stage of staring into space, wondering what the next book will be about.

So here’s some news.

Once upon a time, between Lord of Scoundrels and The Last Hellion, I wrote a novella, “The Mad Earl’s Bride,” for an anthology titled Three Weddings and a Kiss.


Avon has reissued “The Mad Earl’s Bride” along with works by Catherine Anderson and Samantha James, in a handsome new volume titled Three Times a Bride, which will be out in May.

You can learn more about early 19th century weddings and dresses here.


The wedding dress pictured below is from the 1829 Ackermann’s Repository, as is the description.

WEDDING DRESS.
A ROUND dress of Brussels lace over a slip of white gros de Tours ; the body of the slip is cut low and square ; the corsage of the dress is made up to the throat and fastens behind, it sets close to the shape round the upper part of the bust, but has a little fulness at the bottom of the waist. Long sleeve à l’Imbecille over the manche à la bêret of the slip. A biais of white lace, finished at the upper edge by a white satin rouleau, goes round the skirt, and is surmounted by an embroidery of uncommon depth and beauty. A Turkish pelisse of white satin is worn over the lace dress; it is open in front, and the corsage open before and behind falls over the bust in a deep fold, which is divided on the shoulder; a satin rouleau edges the front and corsage of the pelisse; the bottom of which has no other trimming than an ourlet of uncommon breadth. The hair is arranged in front in the Madona style, and disposed in full bows on the crown of the head. Head-dress, a garland of flowers (orange) and a Brussels lace veil; pearl necklace, from which is suspended a diamond cross; diamond earrings ; gold bracelets, à la Grecque, with diamond clasps ; white satin slippers laced in the sandal style; white kid gloves.

News from the 18th & 19th centuries

The Two Nerdy History Girls, Susan Holloway Scott & I, have returned from our latest junket to Colonial Williamsburg, and we're ready to Tell All. You can learn what we learned about 18th-19th c. coaches, clothes, dancing, and other delights. In case you were wondering, our sources' knowledge extends far beyond Colonial America. For one thing, in Colonial times, Americans viewed themselves as English subjects, and imported just about everything from England. For another, the CW interpreters' scholarship is wide-ranging. They're as comfortable talking about a Regency era carriage as an 18th C one, and the milliners and tailors make clothes for the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. We've got the pictures to prove it--detailed photos you won't find anywhere else. Intrigued? Just click on My Other Blog over there to your right or, if that's too far for you, right here.