Posts

, ,

What I learnt from reading and writing romance novels

A few years ago I had a strong desire to leave the life I’d known as a magazine editor and become a romance novelist. It made sense. I have a deeply felt need to bring more love to the world, and I love writing. Why not combine the two?

I spent my teenage years immersed in romance novels. They provided just the antidote to boring school days and tedious exams. Instead of doing homework, I was being romanced by tall, dark, fictional men…that is, until I could hear my mother walking up the hallway to my bedroom. And then, my secret lover was shoved beneath the textbooks while I pretended to studiously examine the theory of how to dissect a frog. Talk about going from princes to frogs!

I was thrown out of biology class for drawing hearts. Love hearts!

I met my husband Paul―a prince, not a frog―when living in New Zealand, and we moved in together the day after our first date. It was ‘I’ve known you forever’ at first sight. We’re happily in love, two decades later. I still get butterflies when I see him smile, or watch him walking towards me. He makes me laugh like no one else can. I can feel the privilege of those oft-said words: till death do us part; and I know that it means our love will carry us through and beyond that day.

vandpwalkingforblog

 

Our love story is a rom-com; I’m the rom, he’s the com. In the roughly ten years I spent as a single woman, I kissed more than a few of those proverbial toads. Often it’s only in hindsight that we see the blessings of poor relationship choices and lost loves. Those toads—every single one of them—showed me what I didn’t want in a relationship. And so I went on kissing toads in the hope that there was a fairytale ending for me. Those toads may have worn different costumes, and had different names or jobs, but in the end a toad is a toad is a toad. Would I ever meet my handsome prince? Perhaps I’d read far too many Mills & Boon romance novels! Nevertheless, they gave me hope.

 

v&p3

Despite the heartache, the betrayal, the lack of emotional intelligence or ability to give more openheartedly by some of the above said toads, I never really stopped believing in love. It took me about ten years of kissing toads to realise I wasn’t a toad, and that’s why those relationships didn’t fit right.

I trained to become a marriage celebrant. Even if I wasn’t married, I could at least celebrate other people’s happy unions. As it turned out, by the time I officiated my first ceremony in 1995 I had a beautiful baby girl growing inside me. Yes, I’d found my prince! Or had he found me?

Several years ago, I became rather ill with what I later discovered was adrenal fatigue. I ended up in bed for weeks, so exhausted I could barely move. My daughters, bless them, remembered my teenage addiction to romance novels and scoured the local charity shops buying me dozens of novels from their pocket money. I’d not read romance novels in years. At first, I was somewhat amused that I’d ever found them interesting. After all, aren’t they all the same? That’s what everyone thinks, right? Boy meets girl. Boy is a prat. Girl can’t bear the sight of him. Well, she can really, because, frankly, he’s so hot he’s capable of melting an ice cream from five metres away. Is it lust? Is it…oh my, it’s love. And, darn it, turns out they’ve always loved each other and can’t possibly be apart.

Whatever the storyline, those novels helped me heal. Each day I found myself getting stronger as I read more stories of romance. I’m a fast reader, and generally get through a Mills and Boon novel in two hours.

Then, a few summers ago, I decided to write a romance novel. That summer, getting up before sunrise each day, I wrote five romance novels. Finally, I’d come full circle. All those years of reading about romance, and now I was writing stories about love. But was I?

My novels Mosaic, Bluey’s Café and Sisters of the Silver Moon are not romance novels, but they all feature love stories. What I learnt from writing these novels and writing those five romance manuscripts is that I actually find it hard to follow the formula of ‘boy meets girl and now we have to throw lots of obstacles in their way before they can be together’. Although I have quite the backlog of toads to my name, when I met ‘the one’ our path was smooth. Instant. And in my heart, that is what I wish for other women. I hope that one day they look up and ‘he’ is standing there before them, smiling, and ready to open his heart. I hope he won’t be all ego, arrogance and too macho to communicate his feelings.

 

novelspromo

The alpha men of romance novels might be drop-dead gorgeous, but I want women to do better than that. I wish for them men who make you come ALIVE with their gorgeousness. You know, those men who aren’t just eye candy but are nourishing soul food. Men who are your equal, and don’t treat you as if you’re anything less than royalty. How do we know if someone is right for us? The best way is to close our eyes. How do they feel? What energy emanates from them? Because, it isn’t their dashing looks which will sustain your relationship through the years, but their kindness, respect, integrity, honesty and ability to be emotionally intimate and vulnerable.

I am grateful for every Mills and Boon book (and other publishers, too) I’ve ever read. And I’m so pleased I never gave up on finding true love. Like childbirth, I don’t believe it has to be a painful experience. I also don’t subscribe to the common beliefs:

Every marriage has its difficult times
Every couple fights.

It’s time people started creating their own love stories. Ones that aren’t perpetuating conflict, drama, power games, disrespect or arrogance. Because, you know what? Love isn’t any of those things. Love is accepting, honest, open, kind, encouraging, supportive, respectful, forgiving, compromising, and fair. Love is loving. And yes, even though most of us are dysfunctional in one way or another, and we all have a needy ‘inner child’, so too are we adults capable of making adult choices. Every moment of our relationship interaction is a choice.

 

familblog

As a writer, I have come to accept that I may never have what it takes to be a romance novelist. I can, however, always write about love. For love, true love, is something I know well.

/2 Comments/by
, ,

The Sisterhood

Over the twelve years I edited The Mother magazine, I was blessed to find my community. My sisterhood. Women were spread far and wide across this beautiful Earth but together we shared a passion for holistic living and parenting. We may not have agreed on everything, but at the heart of our values was love. Given I live in rural Cumbria, such soul systers aren’t always easy to find though I am blessed to know heart-centred women here.

 

meandeliza

Leaving my Eliza in the city for a week!

 

Last weekend my family and I headed down south. My 17-year-old daughter, Eliza, had work experience for a week at Working Title Films in London. She had the best time, and I can see that a week of independence in the city has really helped her to blossom and given her the boost she needs to get through the final year of school before university. The look on her face when we picked her up on Friday night was priceless. She thrived on being in such a creative environment with interesting, passionate people. To share her days with like-minds talking about movie scripts, psychology and politics was food for her soul.

bethandeliza

My daughters, Bethany and Eliza.

We all have a type of ‘soul food’ which nourishes us.

I think it’s fair to say that my soul food is evident in the novels I write. The themes which were important to me when I founded and edited The Mother magazine are still important to me: women, family, home, love, community, nourishing food and conscious lifestyle choices. I’ve been told many times by people who’ve read my novels that they want women like that in their lives! Apparently I write about lovely men, too. I’m saving that bit for another blog, though.

Our week away included me doing two more author readings on my author tour.

 

novelspromo

En route to London, we stopped at my sister’s pub, The Plough, in Bodicote, Oxfordshire. Heidi recently returned from a five-year stint back in our home country of Australia. It was good to see her again and to laugh so hard we had tears trickling down our cheeks. I also did an author reading while I was there. So lovely to see friends, old and new.

meandheidi

Me and my sister Heidi.

 

paultheplough

Paul finished off the evening by singing to the locals!

 

After settling Eliza into her London hotel, Paul and I headed down south to deepest, darkest Surrey, and had the pleasure of staying with a dear friend, Keeley. Don’t you love it when you can turn up to a friend’s house and just feel completely at home? That’s what it’s like when I’m at her place.

We then headed to Hampshire and I did an author reading at the Ringwood Steiner School. Such a joy to meet wonderful people, and feel a deep connection with men and women who were previously strangers. Our hosts were Syenna, Tom, Hugo, Charlie and Rupert, and what a wonderful family to be nurtured by. They arranged for a picnic in the playing field at the Steiner School. Paul and I really enjoyed chatting to everyone, and then spending the night with our host family

 

sisterslowres3d

 

picnicatsteiner

Summer picnic for my author reading in Hampshire.

 

About four years ago, I saw a lady walking through a car park in town. She had the most gorgeous, blonde, angelic daughters by her side. I had to stop her and say how beautiful they were. But there was something about this lady, within less than half a minute of interaction, which really touched my soul. It wasn’t anything I could readily put into words. It was an energy force. I came home and said to my husband that I’d just met this woman who radiated something really beautiful, and was just the sort of person I’d love as a friend. I still couldn’t tell you what it was, but I fell in love with her vibration. I really kicked myself for not prolonging the conversation and asking her out for a cuppa! For a long time I looked out for her as I walked through town. Maybe she was just a visitor to the town and we’d never meet up again. As fate would have it, turns out she was a subscriber to my magazine. I didn’t know this until sometime later when she came into my life in another way: through my daughter! Eliza is blessed beyond measure to have this AMAZING woman as her Philosophy teacher. I mean, what are the odds?

In April, Paul and I had our vow renewal ceremony. I woke up one morning in February and just put it out to the Universe: who should I ask to be my celebrant? When Nicola’s name came to me in a nano-second, I smiled but dismissed it. She’d never say yes. We don’t even know each other. But, being the impulsive creature I am, I popped a letter in the post and asked. Because, frankly, if you don’t ask for what you want in life you won’t get it! Anyway, to my immeasurable joy, she said ‘yes’. It took a long time to manifest this person, who at a soul level, feels incredibly beautiful to me, but it gives me hope for other people and experiences I wish to create.

 

celebrant

Paul and I with Nicola.

Opposites can attract, and diversity is good, but oh my, when you share common interests with someone, and a similar set of values, it nourishes and nurtures you so much. Finding our sisterhood may be a slow process, but I find that the older I get the more clear I am on the values I hold strongly in friendships. Time is precious. Most people live busy, hectic lives. But those couple of hours when you share a cup of herb tea beneath the shade of a fruit tree in the late summer sunshine are priceless.

I hope that for those people who have yet to find their sisterhood, my novels will give them the faith and courage to hang in there and trust that the women/men who are on your wavelength will be drawn into your life. As you read my novels, I hope you join the characters for a cup of tea and really allow yourself to dream. Your vibe attracts your tribe!

 

sisterspromo

 

Thank you to everyone who has left a review on Amazon for Sisters of the Silver Moon. REALLY appreciated! Thank you! I hope to get the second book in the trilogy, Behind Closed Doors, out for you by Christmas. And the third book, Flowers in Her Hair, out by Summer 2016.

BCD-Mockup-2

 

/2 Comments/by
,

Sisters of the Sacred Moon

I had expected to sleep in this morning, being Sunday and all. That was the delicious plan; the promise I made to my muscles, all weary from four consecutive days using the rowing machine at the gym. But no. The muse had other ideas.

 

moon1

This week my mind has been filled with the final stages of my non-fiction book Cycle to the Moon: celebrating the menstrual trinity ~ menarche, menstruation and menopause. I am so grateful that after all these years I have finally found an artist to illustrate this book/journal. I feel it is such an important topic, and that anything I can add to the body of literature which breaks the taboo around our bleeding time, all the better.

 

What I didn’t plan or expect was that a second book on this topic would emerge. I awoke at first light…with the seed of an idea for a novel germinating. I know from experience that it can be one of the best times of the day to ‘craft’ a novel. The conscious mind isn’t getting in the way too much, and dreams and whispers bubble up to the surface like spring water rising from Mother Earth. I let this bathe me, the ideas flitting in here and there, nourishing my soul.

 

moon2

I stayed warm under the duvet letting the ideas grow. I’d write them down later. Inner muse wasn’t having any part of that. Those sisters of the sacred Moon don’t have time! Get up and tell our story, they demand, hands on their hips. Okay, okay. They must have conspired with William, our cat, (darn witches!) for he insisted on standing outside my bedroom miaowing non-stop until I let him in. No chance of going back to bed now!

 

There is something about this novel that is really exciting me. Perhaps it’s the way the ideas are emerging that shows me it will reach and touch the hearts of both mainstream women and those who walk a path rather similar to mine. At least, that’s how the characters are selling it to me! (laughing)

 

Dawn has broken over this beautiful morning. The birdsong is exquisite, the sunlight is bathing the lush green fields and leafy trees with a promise. I have been given another gift. A book begins to gestate in my heart, and for this I give thanks.

 

And that’s what it’s like being a writer. You’re nothing more than a puppet on a string being told what to do by your characters. So today, the Moon is in Aries in my fifth house of creativity. On Tuesday morning (7.14 UK time), there is a solar eclipse in Taurus lighting up my sixth house of day-to-day work. I guess I could be writing rather intensively for a good while. See you on the other side!

/0 Comments/by
,

The Barefoot Writer

I’ve been a bit quiet on the blogging front lately. The funny thing about writing is that I love doing it. It’s not a hardship. Some writers find it a painful process, and equate it to traumatic, medicated childbirth. I don’t struggle to put the word on the page. I never have. It’s interesting, too, that I believe birth was designed to be gentle, ecstatic and joyous ~ much like writing.

Seconds after giving birth at home, by candlelight and Mozart, to my daughter Bethany.

Seconds after giving birth at home, by candlelight and Mozart, to my daughter Bethany.

 

My blog tends to get neglected because I’m too busy writing elsewhere. I’m going to put up post-it notes in my writing room: “tend to your blog, Veronika, like you do your house plants!” I’m feeling so inspired as we take our first steps into this Cumbrian Spring. My garden is filled with blossoms: pear, peach, plum, cherry, and soon there’ll be apple blossoms, too. I’m never happier than when my hands are in the dark, fertile soil, and the sunshine falls across my skin.

Bluebells

Although the vast majority of my writing is done directly on the laptop, and often before sunrise, I do love to take a pen and notebook into the garden and write there. With my bare feet nestled amongst the lawn daisies, against the soundtrack of beautiful birdsong, my muse comes alive and my heart sings. The beauty of writing, for me, is that it can be done anywhere, just about any time. I have often written while waiting for my daughters outside their music lessons, or in the gym café after a workout. Sometimes I’ve woken in the night and scribbled a few lines down in the dark.

clothesonline

BlueJeanscover

I always have pen and paper in my handbag. For me, not having a pen and paper is right up there with my fear of snakes! *laughing*

31

 

I remember once asking a friend to write something for me (when I was editing The Mother magazine). Her hands were busy with little children, but I knew there was an article inside her just waiting to be written: write it on toilet paper when you go to the loo, I told her. Just write! She did end up writing articles for me, not on loo paper, but on old bits of paper and the backs of shopping lists. She kept them all tied together with a bull clip.

And that’s the key. Too often we make excuses about writing. How many people have said they’ve got a novel inside them? Don’t just talk about it, write the thing! The truth is if we want to write we will make it happen. In my case, I wrote six novels in the course of one year. Five of those were while I was editing a magazine, and for half that time I had home-educated teenagers. When did I write? Between about 4am and 8am. I wrote like a mad woman, not because I was ‘mad’, and certainly not because I’m a ‘morning person’; I wrote because the fire burned brightly in my belly. I wanted to write, and so I did.

If you want to write, you’ll find a way. You might choose to go barefoot, or perhaps you’ll wear 6-inch red heels and sip a cappuccino in a fancy café while you’re jotting down sentences. If scribbling important thoughts on loo paper isn’t your thing, try parchment and a fountain pen.

The only person who ever stops us from being a writer is ourselves.

Did you ever watch the movie Field of Dreams? If there’s anything to remember from that film, it’s this: build it, and they will come. And I say: write it, and they will read it.

/0 Comments/by