Summer time! Time for Hollywood to pull out the catsuit. Bikinis are soooo last fantasy…
I wore a catsuit once–
Several bodies ago.
In the era known as BC (“Before Children”).
These days, I cede that fashion statement to those younger and fitter. I loved The Avengers flick for one reason: for all the testosterone-driven male posturing by her Avenger posse (Iron Man, the Hulk, Captain America) to save the planet from an army of alien invaders, Scarlett Johansson‘s Black Widow (a.k.a., Natalia Romanova) aptly holds her own on the big 3D screen.
And not just in the scenes in which she’s surrounding by bad guys. I’m talking about her vulnerability while being taunted by the arch villain, Loki, who has already deduced that she has a soft spot for Jeremy Renner‘s super sniper character, Hawkeye.
Well, does she?
Let me put it this way: the scene has a great twist to it. A lesser actress may not have pulled it off.
I’ve attached a video clip of Scarlett talking about her approach to the role.
To my mind, Scarlett owns the role–and the catsuit too, since it’s too tight for them to do anything but cut her out of it.
But seriously, she fills it out perfectly. Curvacious, some butt and absolutely no gut. The suit is unzipped just enough to allow us to admire her cleavage, but the view doesn’t detract from her most awesome attribute: the ability to break men’s noses even as she breaks their hearts.
In high-heeled Louboutin boots, no less.
Go see the movie–unless you want the ignominious honor of being the last person on the planet who hasn’t.
RIDDLE ME THIS:
From Jane Fonda in Barbarella, to Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, to all the luscious ladies in Sin City, many an actress has donned a catsuit on her way to film stardom. Which of them do you feel is worthy of our fangirl envy?
As I write this blog, I have three major things going on in my life (outside of the kids, which is always like herding cats or juggling knives, depending on the day.)
First, I’m writing a speech for the Desert Dreams conference this weekend in Arizona. When Rocki reads this, she’ll want to strangle me (fortunately, she lives 3,000 miles away) because she’s a staunch believer in writing, rewriting, and practicing speeches. I, on the other hand, usually have an idea, write it on the plane, read it out loud and edit when I get to the hotel, and then deliver something completely different than what I penned. In fact, I have one “stump speech” that I wrote for the New Jersey Romance Writers … and I have yet to give it. However, I’ve started it several times … Anyway, I had to give my speech a title. I called it “Through the Looking Glass.” I figure that’ll cover pretty much anything I want to talk about.
Second, I have a book due May 1. I was making great progress on it until I realized an entire branch of the plot did not work and yesterday I deleted over 6,000 words when that branch broke from the tree. I then wrote over 3,000 words to make up for it, but I’m still 3,000 words short of where I thought I would be. Meaning, I’ll be writing during my trip. This is not to say that I know what the final word count will be — my rough drafts (like this) are generally 70-80K words, and my final draft is generally 100-110K words. But I’m stuck on the ending because of that broken branch. Time to play what if games and see what sticks.
And finally, my 18th book was published on Tuesday.
SILENCED was hell to write, but in the end I was happy with it. When I read the final page proofs I was stunned that the story came together. I had a big picture in my head, but the details stymied me, so when everything was wrapped up I kind of surprised myself.
What surprises me even more, though, is that SILENCED is my 18th published book. I feel like I should know more about this business, that I should understand the hows and whys of decisions–the decisions of readers, of fellow writers, of publishers. And I don’t. I don’t even understand me sometimes … but I suppose I should take that up with my therapist (if I had one.)
SILENCED is the fourth book in the Lucy Kincaid series, but the first book with a new publisher. Last year, I moved from Ballantine who published all 17 of my previous books, to Minotaur/St. Martin’s Press. It was a good move for me, exciting, but scary nonetheless. Change always is.
Change is hard. I’m really going to miss Rocki on this blog. Rocki is a lot like me — we’re stubborn, opinionated, and passionate. Rocki can drive me crazy as much as she makes me happy. I tried to get her to stay, but I think that was more for me than it was for her. As you know, Rocki has another amazing book out this week: BAREFOOT IN THE SAND. It really doesn’t matter if she’s writing romantic suspense or women’s fiction or YA, you know you’re going to get a great story.
Good luck, dear friend. And you’d damn well better write another Bullet Catcher book or your name is mud.
I have some good news to share. Our own Laura Griffin hit the USA Today bestseller list with TWISTED. I can not tell you how thrilled I am! She is an amazingly talented writer. And organized — far more organized than me. I can say that with total honesty because we’ve co-written a couple articles for RT. The final product, I think, has been terrific, but it’s because Laura keeps me focused and directed. (I have a suspicion that she is a plotter, but I like her anyway.) In the RT Book Review newsletter for the June issue, Carol Stacy wrote:
“Allison Brennan and Laura Griffin talk about their new releases (SILENCED and TWISTED respectively) and their experiences writing gritty thrillers with their mom status intact. These “mystery moms” are always amusing when they write an article together, but this time we get a better idea of the duality of their lives.”
And on my own doorstep, SILENCED garnered my first ever Associated Press review. I don’t know all where it was printed, but it’s posted all over cyber news sites. In part:
“Brennan throws a lot of story lines into the air and juggles them like a master. The mystery proves to be both compelling and complex.”
Writing, for me, is always hard during release week, but I’m managing. Tuesday was kind of a waste, but yesterday was better, and today will be better still.
I write all day, take a break when the kids get home, then write at night. Late — usually around midnight or one — I call it quits and unwind with TV. For example, I watched the first six seasons of BONES in three months.
Anyone here watch GRIMM? I was thrilled it was renewed for a second season. And of course, JUSTIFIED’s season three finale was amazing. Can’t wait until next January! I’m currently on season four of NCIS (why, oh why, did I never watch this show before?) And I’m eagerly awaiting the return of HAVEN this summer. What are you happy about in TV land?
And I almost forgot! St. Martin’s created this fabulous trailer for SILENCED. What do you think?
When I was, like, eight, I begged my mother for a lucky rabbit’s foot.
(Don’t ask me why people feel these are so lucky. I’m sure the rabbit doesn’t think so.)
By then Mom was used to such requests. Already she’d caved in to my pleas for a diary that locked with a key, a heart-shaped locket, an iron-on monogram with my initials for my pink button-down shirt, and a shrunken head.
Okay, really it was a carved coconut made to look like an man in the last throes of fear of being eaten by an anaconda. I guess that explains all the nightmares and my bloodcurdling screams.
(And why, finally, Mom buried the head in the back yard– something I would never have known if my trusty Doberman sidekick, Kazan, hadn’t dug it up and trotted it back over to me. It was Mom who screamed then, when she saw it back in its usual place: on my bookshelf, next to the rabbit’s foot.
I guess that foot was lucky after all — for the coconut, anyway.
Which brings me to the topic of luck, specifically as it pertains to writing.
I know a lot of novelists who are excellent writers. Their stories are compelling, but for some reason they haven’t connected with the zeitgeist that will give them the traction that would make them the next Nora (Roberts)/ Danielle (Steel)/ Dan (Brown)/ John (Grisham)/ Stieg (Larsson) / JK (Rowling)/whomever-is-the-author-flavor-of-the-year. Maybe they weren’t in sync with an agent willing to stick it out with them while they tried to claw their way out of the mid-list. Or maybe what the author is writing books that editors aren’t buying right now, because that genre is “over-saturated” because these same editors bought too much of a trend in which readers have OD’d on.
Yet another reason to forgo the trends, and write what resonates with YOU.
Believe in your story.
Believe in your voice.
Believe in your ability to find the right mentors (critique partners) and professional champions (agent, editor) to help you get it in the hands of readers who will appreciate it, and want even more from you.
Yes, you know where this is leading: BELIEVE IN YOURSELF.
Only you can write that book.
Only you can sell that book.
Only you can give you the career you want.
So toss that supposedly lucky penny you found on the sidewalk, the fortune from the Chinese takeout box, and that parsley sprig you insist is a four-leaf clover, because none of these will get you what you want: your name on the spine of a book.
When the stars do align for you, it’s because you’re in the right place, with the right book.
Case in Point: Just this past week, MSW author, Karin Tabke was honored with Romantic Time’s Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Fiction for her book, Blood Law.
Hell yeah, she deserved it.
If I were to be objective about the karma surrounding that rabbit’s foot, I guess I’d say it wasn’t really all that lucky at all. My grades didn’t improve. My hair stayed coiled in a frizz ball. And I was still taller than all the boys in my class. Except for Bob Butler, which is why we were always partnered for square dances.
(For your sake, Bob, I’m hope you kept growing. As for me, I was happy to top out at at five-foot six inches, in the seventh grade and let the rest of the class catch up.)
The rabbit’s foot is long gone. And thank goodness The Hub looks nothing like the coconut head, albeit sometimes I wish I knew right voodoo curse that could turn him into a bug-eyed pinhead when he acts like one. In the meantime, I’ll stay away from Vegas slot machines and Golden Gate Fields…
Feeling lucky? If so, play this little game with me! It’s called “Lucky 7.” Here’s how it works: I”ve posted the scene starting on page 77 of THE HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN’S HANDBOOK, here. For a chance to win this digital eBook, email me at MailFromJosie@gmail.com with the correct answer to the question at the end of the post (worth 7 points). The winner will be chosen from the correct answers received by Midnight PT on Friday, April 20, 2012.
Earn a Bonus Point for commenting here below, about your good luck charm, or by congratulating Karin on her win.
I tip my hat to the author on her successes, which also include a seven-figure book deal with Vintage.
I’m glad to hear (from Karin Tabke, one of the severest critics I know) that the book merits its raves, so I’ll take her word for it. (If not, I’d be afraid that she’d take a cat-o-nine-tails to me. I swear, ’cause that gal knows what hurts–on the page, anyway.)
In the profession of writing, where authors encounter many valleys and a just a few peaks, I’d say Ms. James has reached quite a pinnacle. Like J.K. Rowling, Jackie Collins, Stephen King, Danielle Steel, John Le Carre, Ken Follett, Nora Roberts, Lisa Gardner, and Kristin Hannah (to name few), she will soon be among the 1% of novelists who not only have made the New York Times Bestsellers list, but have also seen their works translated into film.
Indubitably you’ll find great sex in Ms. Collins’ steamy glam lit, as well as Ms. Steel’s socialites-behaving-badly tomes and Ms. Roberts’ unforgettable romances. But none of these can be classified as “erotica,” let alone “erotic romance.” So kudos to Ms. James for moving the genre of erotica out of bedroom and into the boardroom.
I use the term “boardroom” because I’ve no doubt that erotica be the new publishing gold rush–and that’s okay by me. Hey, anything that takes any and all women’s fiction out of publishing’s pink ghetto of small advances/throw-it-on-the-shelf/get it no bookseller co-op or promotion is fine by me.
In a survey of 1,371 romance readers released this year by the Romance Writers of America–the trade organization which nurtures the profession of romance writing–erotic romance was a popular choice of 20% of all romance readers. If RWA does the same survey in two years, my guess is that this subgenre’s popularity among respondents will have doubled.
Today, if you put in the term “erotic romance” in Amazon.com’s search bar, you’ll see that the site is selling 4,963 paperback books under that genre, another 337 in hard cover, and a whopping 10,964 as- digital eBooks.
As for the search term “erotica,” 19,081 paperbacks pop up (pardon my pun), along with 2,216 hard cover books, and almost 50,000 hot and spicy digital eBooks.
Sounds like a helluva lot of hanky-panky, doesn’t it?
I’m guessing these numbers will grow by double digits as well.
I have many friends who write erotica. This isn’t just a high-five for E.L. James, but a thumbs-up for them as well. Why? Because in the eyes of readers and booksellers, the publicity surrounding the book will reignite this subgenre of romance.
The published books they’ve written may now get a second look from readers who were turned on (literally) by Ms. James’ book. And no doubt they and their agents will be fielding calls from editors who never before acquired erotica (let alone erotic romance) but have fallen in love with their backlist, and want to publish their next hot-and-bothered books.
And yes, I’d be the first to applaud them, if that happens. As a professional writer, I can’t afford to be jealous of others’ successes. It’s a waste of my time and energy–which is better spent writing my own stories.
Besides, it’s just bad karma –
Which, in this case, is doe-eyed heroine: naked, submissive, and wearing four-inch stilettos.
Karin is traveling today, so the remaining gals here at Murder She Writes thought it would be fun to have another “Ask Us Anything!” Q&A. The rest of us will pop in all day to answer questions — about our books, reading, writing, television, movies … just ask.
These days, I cede that fashion statement to those younger and fitter. I loved The Avengers flick for one reason: for all the testosterone-driven male posturing by her Avenger posse (Iron Man, the Hulk, Captain America) to save the planet from an army of alien invaders, Scarlett Johansson‘s Black Widow (a.k.a., Natalia Romanova) aptly holds her own on the big 3D screen.
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