Sometimes We Need to Pull Back Projects by Vonnie Davis

I was an excited, wet-behind-the-ears old broad when I signed my first publishing contract with The Wild Rose Press on November 16, 2011. The contract was for Storm's Interlude, the third book I'd managed to finish. The first two? I'd long since deleted them from my computer. It seems agents, nor editors like stories written in twelve points of view...or with a heroine so bitchy even the dog hated her. Oh, the lessons I've learned along the way, I could write a book about how to write a book.

But The Wild Rose Press was good to me. There's no other way to put it. They took a no-name writer and published her book, one that won several awards, by the way. At their writers' retreat in Asheville in 2012, Rhonda Penders, one of the owners of the press, gave me some wise advice. "Write two 'shorts' for every 'long'." I didn't think much of it at the time. I was all about writing books, not novellas. But I am smart enough to try the opinion of someone who knows more about an industry than I do. So, when Stacy, an editor, laid out her Honky Tonk Hearts series, I wondered if I could write short. I took an online class on "Writing the Sensual Novella." 

Still I wondered. Then, one night Win rode into our bedroom on his Harley, took off his helmet and asked me to tell his story. He was a veteran from the War in Iraq, with PTSD, an amputated leg below his knee and some hearing loss. Would romance readers enjoy reading about such a man? Those Violet Eyes, my best seller at TWRP, was born.

I began writing more novellas, enjoying the process and seeing their worth.

Even so, I kept writing novels, especially about my favorite city--Paris. I set a series there. A series that, for some reason, never caught on. And, loving Paris the way I do, it hurt. I promoted them the best way I knew how, yet the sales just didn't happen and thus the reviews. Ten for one and eleven for the other. So the books sank into a quagmire of nothingness.

My agent and I talked. We decided to ask for the rights back for them. Maybe in my spare time, after my paranormal Scottish series for LoveSwept at Random House and my firemen's wild heat series for HarperImpulse are all published, I can rework those three books. Make them shine a little more. 

While my novellas remain at Wild Rose Press, my books are in my hands now, no longer for sale. When I hit a rough patch in my current WIP, I'll zip over and read one of those books, correct the errors and breathe some life into it. Or maybe I'll realize they, too, need deleted. It's all a learning process, isn't it?

  

No guest blogger today.

For those of you who stopped by to read a blog by someone else,  I'm afraid plans have changed. Due to writing schedules, Pam has asked to be rescheduled. She'll be here in two weeks.

So you'll be reading no "other worldly" tales today, although I do have some news that's out of this world. My agent contacted me last night with news that my manuscript she started "shopping out" a week ago has a contract offer. Gasp! "So soon?" I asked. "Are you kidding me?" A second publisher has asked we wait two weeks before signing with the first publisher to give them time to read and decide, too. This is surreal, folks.

I wrote this romance in three months. Books I've labored over for a year or more are ignored by publishers. Go figure!

I'm grateful for my agent's efforts, her belief in Storm's Interlude and her aggressive agenting skills. Dawn Dowdle of Blue Ridge Literary is the best.

When I finally turned the lights off last night, it was four-thirty this morning. Then at nine I was awakened by  someone chanting, "OMG! OMG!" Ooops! That would be me!

The Imperfections of One's First Book...

We've all heard writers remark about their first novel gathering dust in a drawer or closest, the tone of their voice laced with a sense of love and a strong degree of embarrassment. As writers, we love out first novel, proof to us that, yes by golly, we could create and finish a good story.

I was in the shower the other day when an idea hit me as I shampooed my hair. Perhaps it was the massaging of my head that set my brain waves in motion--a rare occurrence for me, I admit. I'd been wondering what to do with an inspirational story I'd written and shelved after my agent could find no takers, Indigo Blooms. Obviously, it needed revamping--badly. Wait, what if I pulled out my first novel, blew the dust off it and rewrote it? I could make it the first in a series I'd call the "Love Song Trilogy." Then I could redo the book about Indigo and make it the second in the series. The third would be my partially completed one about Gracie and Brody. Sounded like a great plan to me. I flew it by my agent at Blue Ridge Literary, and she said, "Go for it!"

So I pulled Rain is a Love Song from my old computer and installed it on my laptop. Since then, I've been reading, wincing and scowling. Gee, and I thought it was so perfect at the time.

I'd written it in the omnicient point of view; a style that is frowned upon today. Folks, I did more head hopping than a bunny in a field of lettuce. If six people were in the room, you knew what everyone was thinking. Sigh. (This puppy's gonna need a lot of work!!) There's too much back story and not enough inner conflict. I've told more than I've shown. Still, beneath all the imperfections lies a good romance between the new pastor of a church and an older, world-weary woman who does not want to be romanced. My job is to salvage it; move it from a small community in Maryland to the mountians of Virginia and set in place the characters that will be in all three books. Sounds like fun, right? Can I get an amen?