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Yesterday morning, I received what every author dreads: a rejection. And this isn’t your run-of-the-mill, “Thanks, but after reading the proposal, it’s not what we’re looking for.” This comes after a year of encouragement, of high praise, and of a statement that they wanted it and would have a letter of intent to me “soon.”
“Soon” somehow became, “sorry.” Which makes Roseanna go “sigh” and “sniffle” and even a short “sob” before I get a grip on myself.
I’m an old friend with rejection. I’ve been submitting manuscripts since I was fourteen years old, so I’ve obviously gotten my fair share. Everything from the boiler-plate “thanks but no thanks” letters to some very personal, very encouraging apologies. That’s what this one was. The editor loved the story and wants to work with me, but their line’s going in a different direction. I understand that. Really I do. And I appreciate that she offered to talk with me about coming up with another idea.
But that doesn’t make it any easier, you know? For a year, my hopes have been so high on this project. I really, truly believed that this was my “given,” that the encouragement meant I could count on it. But when an optimist like me gets news like this . . . well, there’s some deflation. There’s a headache. There’s some glumness in a royal shade of blue.
And there’s a question of, “What was the point of this, Lord? I know You have a purpose for me, for every bump, for every bruise. I know there’s a reason this was dragged out so long only to end in a disheartening ‘no.’ So if You could just let me know what that is . . . ?”
There’s no magic cure for disappointment, no Band-aid you can put on it, no steps you can follow to put it neatly behind you and keep plugging away. But still, I woke up today feeling okay. Happy, even. Because yesterday I saw the true mettle of the people I love. My friends not only rallied around me with cheer and encouragement and lots of, “You’re too talented not to get picked up soon by a big house!” they had me laughing. They had the optimist in me quickly resurging.
My hubby and I ended up going out for a much-needed date last night, too, and talking to him is always a balm on my soul. I ended my day yesterday knowing that even if life makes us cry now and then, we serve a God who dries our tears. So thank you, Lord, for wrapping your arms around me. And thank you, my awesome friends, for being those arms.
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So last week I had one of those sudden ideas that not only pops into my head with surprising clarity, it develops super fast. I spent last week getting some basic research out of the way, taking notes, and writing the opening so that the characters solidified in my mind. What, you wonder, was this one, when I was supposed to be working on my ’20s Egypt story?? Well, I’ll tell you–now that I’m back in Egypt and so no longer feeling guilty about my detour into Ancient Persia.
Pick up on that hint? That’s right, Ancient Persia. My idea is for another Biblical fiction, and with that hint it’s pretty easy to guess that it’s Esther. Only this is me–I prefer heroines who are totally fictional, so Esther is only a secondary character. The main focus will be Esther’s best friend, another wife to the king, whom I have named Kasia.
In my research, I learned some interesting facts. For instance, did you know that Susa (a.k.a. Shushan, which is what it’s called in the book of Esther) is halfway between the mountains and coast of Iran, where it receives both monsoon rains and dry desert air, depending on the season? Their winters are temperate and warm, but their summers get to a scorching 140 degrees Fahrenheit. There are accounts of the year-round inhabitants roasting barley seeds on the ground instead of in the oven. Can somebody say, “Sizzle!”?
This would be why the king’s house wintered there. Their summer home was Persepolis, where the summers weren’t so daunting. I found it surprisingly difficult to find information about the ancient cities online, though–I’ll be scouring the Library when I get down to business on this one. I did, however, find a great site with the British Museum that paints a good picture.
But anyway. It’s going to be interesting to combine the events from Esther with history as recorded by Herodotus and the like. They mesh well, but there are always holes–holes that Roseanna gets to fill in with Kasia. =) Betcha didn’t know that she was the reason the king was sleepless that night that he remembered what Mordecai had done for him, did you?
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I’d been expecting The Country House Courtship to arrive in a week or so–so you can imagine my surprise when I opened up a package and held this beautiful book well before I thought I would. My first thought, before I read the title, was “Oh, how pretty this is!” Then I realized what I was holding and got a definite jolt of excitement. Linore has a distinct, Austen-esque voice, and I couldn’t wait to see what she did with this story I’d been waiting for so eagerly.
Beatrice Forsythe knows exactly what her lot in life will be: to marry up, just like her sister Ariana did, and find a gentleman of means to love forever. It’s inevitable–she feels so at home at her sister’s exquisite estate, and with the connexions she has now! Why, after a Season in London, she shouldn’t have any problem finding a husband. And even now, visit Ariana in the country, she has already met an eligible gentleman! Now if only she could avoid distractions by the alluring–but decided not wealthy–Mr. O’Brien, who has come inquiring after a vicarage . . .
Linore Rose Burkard takes readers once again into the charms and intricacies of the Regency, with an approachable voice, lovable characters, and a hint of intrigue. I love how she captures the feel of true Regency novels, but with the friendly, approachable manner of a modern writer. She has a true gift for capturing the era.
I’m not yet finished this lovely story, but I am thoroughly caught up (and eager to finish writing this blog so I can get back to reading it!). And what I love thus far is that when I think I know exactly what’s going on, something new crops up that leaves me going, “Oh! Really?”
This is a fabulous book both for those who like to read the classics and those who like the modern take on the era, as Linore manages to combine the authenticity of the one with the approachability of the other. And now Roseanna is going to say bye-bye so she can go keep reading it. =)
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In casting around for what in the world I might be able to write about today, I turned my mind toward a manuscript oh-so-patiently waiting for a contract it was promised. We’ll refer to it as Peculiar, since the whole title is a bit long, and that’s what I always call it. =) In Peculiar, my heroine Davina is trying desperately to scare off Keaton, the love of her life, before he can break her heart again. And she goes about it in some . . . well, peculiar ways.
One of the most laugh-inducing–and the one that earned praise and a shake of the head from the editor when I spoke to her at conference in September–is Davina’s use of some over-the-top romance novels she’s reading.
Now, I’m allowed to poke fun at romances because I adore them. Most of what I read are lovely Christian romances that deal with the juxtaposition of passion and conviction–but I confess. Sometimes I just need a good dose of Nora Roberts or whatever Harlequin book I’ve recently gotten in the mail. I consider these books vacation from my “real” reading, the books I read for review and endorsement.
But I digress. One of the things that I had a lot of fun with in Peculiar is coming up with some of the most ludicrous romances imaginable. The idea is that the aunt in the story keeps starting manuscripts and never finishing them; Davina is undeterred by the lack of endings and keeps reading these partial manuscripts she finds around the house. In typical Davina-fashion she takes to talking about the stories as if they’re real, which is what leads Keaton to ask who in the world these people are. Impish Davina decides to let him think these larger-than-life romantic heroes are her new love interests.
But I mean, what romance-lover wouldn’t swoon at the thought of injured-soul Admiral Apollo Radcliff?? Or his good friend the spy, Roland Garheart?? And need I even mention the allure of the Italian heartthrob, Machiavelli Barbagelata? (For that one I looked up “weird Italian surnames” and found this, which means “frozen beard.” Oh yeah. That’s what I’m talking about!)
Now, I fully realize that, as in anything, there are some truly awesome romances–and some truly silly ones. I’ll roll my eyes at the silly ones, but (when I have the time) I’ll still read them. So in Peculiar I’m essentially rolling my eyes at myself through my characters. And I had a ton of fun poking fun. =)
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. Having successfully launched two homeschool grads, she now spends her time writing fiction, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years, as well as a fantasy series and contemporary mysteries and romances. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.