| The Rants, Cheers, Fears and Sometimes Tears of Author Charlotte Dillon |
July 2006
I read my last entry in this journal before I began this one. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I
last added anything here. Looking over my complaints in that July 2005 post, I felt like going back in
time and warning myself to brace up because much worse was on the way. A lot of it brought on by a
hurricane called Katrina that hit the last day of the very next month.
It took me weeks afterwards to begin to function on anything other than autopilot. Months more to get
my life back to something near normal. Writing was the last thing on my mind for most of those
months. In the last few though, I have managed to move forward. I’ve done some more work on Read
My Mind, contacted that agent and told her I was backing out and not sending the rest because of the
amount of time that had gone by without me being able to pick up and go with the story like I should
have, almost completed a total rewrite on another story that is making it so much stronger, did write
and complete a non-fiction novel aimed at helping other romance writers, found an agent interested in
it, and have that polished puppy in her hands as I write this.
Not bad for a few months. (Smile) After I finish the rewrite I’m doing on Mister Magic, I am going back
to Read My Mind. It has been one tough book to write, not just because of the things that have
happened since I started it, but because it was something new for me, something different. It’s the first
real suspense I’ve written, and it deals with a serial killer. I found myself having to dig deep into tons
of research to do the story justice. It’s still a romance, but it’s a mystery too, and that calls for a
different touch to the writing. Sometimes it’s just felt so overwhelming that I wanted to toss it and
never pick it back up, but the characters are so strong, so real in my mind, that I just can’t not write it.
Another hundred pages and it’ll be done. I know once it is done, it’ll be worth all the sweat and worry.
There were some good things that happened in the last couple of months that had nothing to do with
writing. Two big things in one month. Both of my children graduated in May. One from high school
near the top of her class and one with a BA in Biology Science from college. Life does go on, doesn’t it?
The good, the bad, and the everyday. How wonderful it is to be here for the good days and the
everyday days, and how blessed we are to have family and friends to help us with all the other days.
July 2005
Talk about slow going. It seems anything that could strike to slow me down or stop me from writing,
has. But what’s new about that in my life. (Smile) Since I started back on Read My Mind, I’ve
planned and carried off a wedding for my son, I’ve dealt with family sickness, my sickness and a back
injury, home remodeling, a tropical storm and a hurricane, and a family vacation. And those are just
the biggies.
But…I did get a new opening to chapter one done, and even added a very short prologue a little later. I’
ve done a detailed rewrite of each chapter I had completed, spent some time building some new
characters and doing some re-plotting and I’ve added around fifty new pages too.
I even entered the first chapter in a couple of contests to get a feel of just how the new work held up to
the opinions of others, especially people who didn’t even know who I was since we all know how kind
friends and family can be. I haven’t gotten any results from one contest yet, but the other was an on
line contest where readers were allowed to send the author comments if they wished. I wasn’t sure
what to expect, but one thing I didn’t expect was such a large number of replies, and every single one
of them positive. Not one person who wrote had anything bad to say about the story. Most of the
messages were so favorable that my head should be swollen to three times its normal size. (Smile) I’m
hoping all of those great comments mean that I’m really on the right track with the story.
Now that school will be starting back soon, and life seems to be settling down – knock on wood – and I
think I finally have a good handle on each of my characters and where and how the story should go, I’
m hoping to be able to complete it soon, get it off to that agent if she hasn’t already given up on me,
and then move on to the next story.
April 2005
I actually queried an agent, and not just any agent, but a biggy. I often tell new writers not to send off
work when the manuscript isn't complete, since so many writers start manuscripts that they never
finish. (And that's a really good rule.) But I knew I needed a push, so I didn't take my own advice. I
knew I had completed other manuscripts so I could do it again. I also explained to the agent in the
query that this story was only half done, but that I had completed those others.
She liked the query and asked to see the first three chapters of Read My Mind. I sent them and heard
back from her pretty quickly. To quote her, "Your opening chapters are very compelling, and the
writing is clean and strong." There was other good stuff too. (Smile) She asked for the complete. She
did want another opening with a different character. That I can do, and have done. I told her I'd have
the polished complete to her in a couple of months. That's a lot of writing to do, since it's only half way
done. More than 200 pages to go. But it's do or die time.
I know even then I could just end up with another rejection for my folder, but that's the writing game.
I've already accepted the fact and dealt with it. If I get a rejection I'm going to send out another query. I
really like Read My Mind and I have some other ideas for novels that have come from the interesting
characters in it. I can't wait to get started on book two. Guess I gotta finish book one first though.
Spring 2005
Fall and winter went by without me writing as much as I wish I had. My contest scores came back. I
didn't final, but two out of three judges loved my story and my writing and gave me high scores. Not
too bad. (Smile) I spent some time scanning older manuscripts into my computer, and then doing a
lot of rewriting before I decided they might be hopeless. I haven't given up on them completely, and
might give them another try later down the road.
I needed to work on something newer, or maybe even new. After some testing, I settled in to work on a
manuscript titled Read My Mind. This is my first paranormal romantic suspense. I love the story and
love the characters--and paranormal comes as natural to me as cooking those big southern meals my
family loves. So many people insisted paranormal was too hard to find a home for, so I tried to keep it
down, but it usually popped up in any fiction I wrote. So I figured, why fight it. I might as well write
what I like to write.
Summer 2004
Things haven't gone as well as I had hoped. They were going so great at first -- and then my father
began to do worse. Once again writing became last on my list of what needed doing. By the end of May
I was spending hours a day with Daddy. By the time he was put in the hospital, I often spent whole
days there. I was there with him on the morning of June the second when he took his last breath and
finally left all of his suffering behind. I had never dreamed that while I was still in my thirties, I would
have to say a final goodbye to both of my parents.
It's been a little while, and it seems like I can breath through the pain at last. I'm still feeling a little
lost, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I'm testing the waters again. Not pushing myself,
but writing a little here and a little there, taking time to plot out chapters, get to know my characters,
and time to slink away and lick my wounds on the days that I feel the need.
I know writing and sending out work is the only way to move forward, so that's my goal. I even sent off
a chapter to an RWA contest last week. One small step....only a thousand left to go. (Smile)
Spring 2004
I had a long talk with myself. Either I want to be a romance writer or I don't. I was tired of playing
around. I said, okay, I don't want to be a romance writer but I would be happy to continue to help
others reach for that dream. That would be enough. I even opened up the folder on the computer
where I keep my writing files, and had my finger above that delete key. I figured the best thing to do
was to make a clean break. Just delete those few finished manuscripts I had and move on. Even the
ones that weren't finished. There would be no second guesses, no going back. It just would be over
and done with.
I began to hit the delete key again and again, and watched each file disappear. I didn't even notice at
first, but there were tears running down my face. This wasn't what I wanted. I had always wanted to
be a writer, and for the longest part of that time, a romance writer. It was my favorite genre. It was the
only kind of writing I loved. By the time I had deleted that last file, I was sobbing. This was wrong. I
didn't want to give this up. I just wanted the fire back that I'd lost after those first years.
I opened up the recycle bin and restored every file, my hands shaking as I did. I had forced myself into
a corner. Like my mom had always said, it was time to either put up or shut up. What she really said
was to either pee or get off the pot!
So here it is, 2004, and I'm trying my best. It has been a smooth start, I'm working on the rewrite for
one story, and actually writing a new story. I think before the year is over I might find that fire again
and maybe be back to sending work out. If not, I'll just keep trying until I do find it. I've even made a
new side to my website, just for me as an author. Something I've never bothered with before. Yes, I'm
going to keep the other side of my site up, and up dated, and keep my e-mail lists going, all to help
other writers as much as I can, but I'm going to pour some of those hours into my own writing again,
at least for the next couple of years or so, and see what I can do.
Keep your fingers crossed for me!
2003
I went through starts and stops. I even sent out some stuff now and then, but the writing was hard. I
knew I was a better writer than I had been way back when. My query letters earned me requests for
completes, and then when rejection letters came they were detailed and often asked to see more work.
But I wasn't sending out much. And I wasn't writing much. I seemed content doing e-mail or working
on my website, helping others, while doing nothing for my own writing. And, just maybe that's how I
want to keep it.
1998 - 2002
My freelance writing took the form of cards and little odds and ends, but my full-time jobs were writing
short biographies of famous singers and musicians. Later, even musical reviews of their works. It was
interesting the first few years, but having to write one bio after another, having those tight weekly
deadlines, all of it non-fiction when my first love was not only fiction, but romantic fiction, it just begin
to numb me. I was almost relieved when the freelance work ran out after five long years.
Yes, it was scary giving up those weekly checks, but I would finally be able to return to my romance
writing! I was thrilled. Then the time came. I opened the file of the last manuscript I had worked on so
long ago, and went blank. I didn't seem to remember how or where to begin.
I had kept in touch with romance writing by running and taking part in e-mail lists for romance
writers, and by keeping my website for romance writers up to date and making it the best I could. But
somehow I had still lost that part of me.
I was scared I'd never find her again.
1997
This was the year I meant to make it. I did more rewrites--yes, I was still learning. I guess I always will
be. At least I hope my writing keeps getting better and better, my voice stronger, my characters more
believable, and all of that other good stuff. To prove my intentions, I got rejections by the scores this
year. They came from Dell, Harper, Avon, Bantam, Harlequin, Warner, Signet, St. Martin's Press, and
even a few more agents.
By the end of this year though, my romance writing would take a back seat--once again. I never did
find a job that I could work around my kids, but as a one-income family, we just weren't making it. I
had hoped against hope that my romance writing would take care of that. Even explained to my
husband that these first years of earning nothing were really my college years, the time I needed to
learn and grow so I would be a good enough writer to make that first sale. But time was up. So I began
full-time freelance writing and did make it there.
1996
I made a huge step. I got a computer. And then the Internet. I was able to go on line and join e-mail
groups where the members were all romance writers. I slowly felt pulled back to my writing. I thought I
would play around with the stories I had finished. So I took one of the floppy disk from my old Brother
WP and popped it into my computer.
And the computer couldn't read the disk!
In fact, no computer, not even another WP, could read it. The only thing that could was my old Brother
WP. We bought a scanner and I managed to scan one manuscript in, but what a huge nightmare to do,
and that's not even counting the mess it made of the formatting and even the words. It looks like my
other manuscripts might be forever lost, or lost until they come up with a better scanner that is still
cheap. I did find a company that could convert those disks so they would be readable, but they wanted
a couple of thousand to do so. Not doable.
1995
This was the year that almost broke me. I started out great. Finished school, scored high on my test,
even math, and got that hard-earned GED. Even got to wear the cap and gown. My husband did the
whole back-to-school thing with me. We wanted our children to see that we thought an education was
important.
This was also the year we paid our little house off, and things finally started to look up for us
financially. By that I mean we could afford something other than chicken leg quarters and red beans.
Things were tight, but improving. My husband had a better job, my son and daughter were doing well
in school, and I had started looking around for a part time job that I could fit in around the their
school hours.
I was even writing when I could, and sent off a couple of things early that year, one to Avon and the
other to an agent. I was still mostly finishing up rewrites, but I knew that what I was turning out was
so much better. I finally could write what I felt was publishable work. I thought it was only a matter of
time until I made that first sale.
And then the world turned upside down. My mom got sick, and then sicker, and soon we were told she
had cancer. Lung cancer. (She had started smoking in her teens.) Writing didn't seem very important
any more. As spring faded into summer, I moved my family into my mom's home so I could care for her
around the clock. My father wasn't well either, and so he stepped aside and left it all up to me. I had to
make decisions I never wanted to even think about. And before fall was over, my mother was gone
forever. I didn't care if I ever wrote another word.
I didn't think I would.
1994
Things began to fall into place this year for my writing--at least with me finally knowing what I should
know. I was working on a new story, another historical. Mostly I was rewriting. Fixing all that was
wrong with those first stories. I had learned so much over the last couple of years about pace, plotting,
characters, and more. But this was also the year I went back to school. Even on the first test they gave
me at night school, I scored college level in English, so all of the hard work was paying off. Spelling,
well, that was still weak. Thank goodness for spell check. (Smile)
This year I earned rejections from Silhouette, Dorchester, and two agents, but I was beginning to get
personal rejection letters with comments. (I say earned because you do have to work to get a rejection.
I had to complete a novel, learn to format, polish it, and even do market research to be able to send it
to the right publishers--and then I had to have the nerve to mail it. That's not a give away, that's work,
so those rejections, though still rejections, were hard earned.)
I didn't spend as much time writing and submitting this year, since I was spending most of my not-
mommy and not-wife time working on school. But that was okay too.
I found out I still hated math!
1993
This is the year I began to really get the hang of things. I had written a couple of letters to some
published authors, who kindly shared info with me. One lived in New Orleans, a couple of hours from
my little town, and she invited me to attend an RWA meeting there. Oh, it was like magic, being in a
room with other writers, having so much info being offered. I joined RWA and soon had answers to
questions I didn't even know I had. I also sent work off to an agent, and in March got my first agent
rejection. At least it wasn't a form letter this time. I was learning and becoming a better writer.
A few days letter I got another form rejection letter, this one from The Editors at Dell. By then I had
finished Indian Beads & Silver Spurs, and had sent it off to Avon Books. I also tried another agent
With RWA I joined my first critique group, where my work was torn to pieces. I left that meeting with
blood on my pages. Not really, but it felt like that. I found out I still knew nothing. I didn't understand
point of view, I didn't know what a strong conflict was, anything about pace, and my grammar and
spelling were still not perfect. I cried half way home, and that was a long two-hour ride. In the end
though, I just became more determined to learn. I was a stay-at-home mom, I was poor, I hadn't even
graduated from high school because I was getting married when my friends were starting their senior
year, but I wasn't stupid and I came from darn strong stock. If I put my mind to something, I could do
it, and no one was going to tell my I couldn't.
In September I got rejections from Avon Books and the agent. I sent a query and the first three
chapters of Indian Beads & Silver Spurs to Leisure. In December I got a request for the complete
manuscript. I was thrilled. I just knew this was going to be it. I also finished my third novel, Mister
Magic.
1992
I learned a lot this year! I got to pass the manual typewriter off to a nephew when my husband used
the money we got back from our income taxes to buy a Brother Word Possessor from Wal-Marts. I
didn't know much about that WP, but sat down and began copying my story in. I didn't figure it matter
that I didn't know how to save it to disk, since I would only need to print it out once. Then it would be
my first sale and the editors would take care of the rest. (If you are a writer who has been at writing a
while, and you're reading this, please stop laughing now, or at least put the soda down before you
destroy your computer.)
You guessed it, I learned to save, and had to type that whole manuscript in again. Groan! That story
became Dakota Magic; my first completed manuscript, and was a huge five hundred pages long. I
didn't know anything about point of view, so head hopping was the rule.
By the last part of the year I was ready to submit work. Didn't know much about that either, and I
didn't have the Internet, but I did have a library. They had one book there on becoming a romance
writer. I followed all of the info listed in that book, at least as best I could. Dakota Magic was mailed off
to Avon Books on September 14th and earned me my very first rejection. It was a form letter sent by
editor Alice Webster, and arrived on September 25th. (Now I know that just the speed of that rejection
should have told me something about how awful my writing was.) I cried for hours, even not knowing
that. I was crushed, my world was over, I was nothing. (At least that was how it felt at the time.) (Smile)
Not one to give up, two days later I mailed that complete manuscript right back out, this time to
Leisure Books. Assistant Editor Edith D. Wilson sent me a form rejection four weeks later. I cried
again, then put that baby right back in the mail, this time to Zebra Books. It took them less than four
weeks to send me my next rejection. This one was simply signed The Editors. By then, thankfully, I
was hard at work on a second story, Indian Beads & Silver Spurs, or I might have tossed in the towel.
The End of 1991
I was caught up in the middle of a romance novel, like always, this one set in the Old West. It was a
great read, but some things just weren't turning out the way I thought they should. I was complaining
to my husband about something the heroine had done that I didn't think she really would have.
(When I read a book the characters are real people to me.) He had just gotten home from a long shift at
work, and was about to get a bath. He made the mistake of saying those infamous words, "If you think
you can do better, then why don't you write one."
(I wonder how many writers have started their careers because of those words?)
I thought, okay, I'll show him. So the next day while he was at work, my son at school, and my
daughter coloring, I sat down with pen and paper and started to write--as a joke really. I intended to
write two or three pages, enough to give my hubby a shock. Since I was sure he never thought I would
do what he said. I mean, how often do we really listen to our husbands? By the time I had to leave to
pick up my son from school that evening, I had twelve pages written, and the whole plot for a story in
mind. Guess the joke was on me.
A few weeks later, when the rest of my family found out what I was doing, and that I intended to keep
doing it, my mom and sister found a big old manual typewriter at the Good Will store, and brought it
home to me as a surprise. I was thrilled! After all, I loved watching reruns of the Waltons and knew
from the trouble John Boy had that even back then editors wanted typed manuscripts, not hand
written ones. (Wish that show had taught me a few more things, like proper page formatting.) I typed
that first MS single spaced, and didn't worry too much over a few grammar mistakes or words spelled
wrong. After all, that's what editors were for, right?
A Starting Point
I've been a book lover since they taught me to read those first words. While other kids played outside, I
sat propped up in bed or on the couch, even on the floor, lost in the world of fairy tales. Animal books
came next, everything from the Black Stallion to My Sister the Horse. I branched out from there. My
mother was proud of my reading appetite, and fed it well. I never lacked for a new book, even if they
were borrowed from a friend or came from the library.
In high school my reading took a sharp turn when a friend let me borrow one of her books. It was a
romance novel, a big historical one with a pirate on the cover. (Oh, how I wish I could remember the
title of that book or the name of the author.)
Reading that one book hooked me on a genre like nothing else had ever done. I read one romance
novel after another. At first they were all historicals. I went happily from pirates, to cowboys, to
knights. It actually took me a couple of years to move to contemporaries. In fact, I read only
contemporaries for a long time after I found them, and then found a comfortable combination. There
wasn't one kind of romance novel I didn't like. I even tried my hand at writing, though never got very
far. And oddly enough, never tried to write a romance.
Maybe all of those happy endings had something to do with my early marriage. I said I do at the ripe
old age of seventeen--my groom was the same age, in fact, he was four months younger than I. A little
over a year later I became the proud mother of a bouncing baby boy. A beautiful baby girl followed four
years after. I guess we were really lucky. Really poor too, but happy more often than not.
Before we had our first child we talked and agreed that I would be a stay-at-home mom until the
youngest child we had was at least ten. After a few years though I found myself a stay-at-home mom
who actually found herself with free time on her hands. My son was in school all day; my little girl
was three-years-old and learning to entertain herself.
That point is where the romance writing began...
I read my last entry in this journal before I began this one. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I
last added anything here. Looking over my complaints in that July 2005 post, I felt like going back in
time and warning myself to brace up because much worse was on the way. A lot of it brought on by a
hurricane called Katrina that hit the last day of the very next month.
It took me weeks afterwards to begin to function on anything other than autopilot. Months more to get
my life back to something near normal. Writing was the last thing on my mind for most of those
months. In the last few though, I have managed to move forward. I’ve done some more work on Read
My Mind, contacted that agent and told her I was backing out and not sending the rest because of the
amount of time that had gone by without me being able to pick up and go with the story like I should
have, almost completed a total rewrite on another story that is making it so much stronger, did write
and complete a non-fiction novel aimed at helping other romance writers, found an agent interested in
it, and have that polished puppy in her hands as I write this.
Not bad for a few months. (Smile) After I finish the rewrite I’m doing on Mister Magic, I am going back
to Read My Mind. It has been one tough book to write, not just because of the things that have
happened since I started it, but because it was something new for me, something different. It’s the first
real suspense I’ve written, and it deals with a serial killer. I found myself having to dig deep into tons
of research to do the story justice. It’s still a romance, but it’s a mystery too, and that calls for a
different touch to the writing. Sometimes it’s just felt so overwhelming that I wanted to toss it and
never pick it back up, but the characters are so strong, so real in my mind, that I just can’t not write it.
Another hundred pages and it’ll be done. I know once it is done, it’ll be worth all the sweat and worry.
There were some good things that happened in the last couple of months that had nothing to do with
writing. Two big things in one month. Both of my children graduated in May. One from high school
near the top of her class and one with a BA in Biology Science from college. Life does go on, doesn’t it?
The good, the bad, and the everyday. How wonderful it is to be here for the good days and the
everyday days, and how blessed we are to have family and friends to help us with all the other days.
July 2005
Talk about slow going. It seems anything that could strike to slow me down or stop me from writing,
has. But what’s new about that in my life. (Smile) Since I started back on Read My Mind, I’ve
planned and carried off a wedding for my son, I’ve dealt with family sickness, my sickness and a back
injury, home remodeling, a tropical storm and a hurricane, and a family vacation. And those are just
the biggies.
But…I did get a new opening to chapter one done, and even added a very short prologue a little later. I’
ve done a detailed rewrite of each chapter I had completed, spent some time building some new
characters and doing some re-plotting and I’ve added around fifty new pages too.
I even entered the first chapter in a couple of contests to get a feel of just how the new work held up to
the opinions of others, especially people who didn’t even know who I was since we all know how kind
friends and family can be. I haven’t gotten any results from one contest yet, but the other was an on
line contest where readers were allowed to send the author comments if they wished. I wasn’t sure
what to expect, but one thing I didn’t expect was such a large number of replies, and every single one
of them positive. Not one person who wrote had anything bad to say about the story. Most of the
messages were so favorable that my head should be swollen to three times its normal size. (Smile) I’m
hoping all of those great comments mean that I’m really on the right track with the story.
Now that school will be starting back soon, and life seems to be settling down – knock on wood – and I
think I finally have a good handle on each of my characters and where and how the story should go, I’
m hoping to be able to complete it soon, get it off to that agent if she hasn’t already given up on me,
and then move on to the next story.
April 2005
I actually queried an agent, and not just any agent, but a biggy. I often tell new writers not to send off
work when the manuscript isn't complete, since so many writers start manuscripts that they never
finish. (And that's a really good rule.) But I knew I needed a push, so I didn't take my own advice. I
knew I had completed other manuscripts so I could do it again. I also explained to the agent in the
query that this story was only half done, but that I had completed those others.
She liked the query and asked to see the first three chapters of Read My Mind. I sent them and heard
back from her pretty quickly. To quote her, "Your opening chapters are very compelling, and the
writing is clean and strong." There was other good stuff too. (Smile) She asked for the complete. She
did want another opening with a different character. That I can do, and have done. I told her I'd have
the polished complete to her in a couple of months. That's a lot of writing to do, since it's only half way
done. More than 200 pages to go. But it's do or die time.
I know even then I could just end up with another rejection for my folder, but that's the writing game.
I've already accepted the fact and dealt with it. If I get a rejection I'm going to send out another query. I
really like Read My Mind and I have some other ideas for novels that have come from the interesting
characters in it. I can't wait to get started on book two. Guess I gotta finish book one first though.
Spring 2005
Fall and winter went by without me writing as much as I wish I had. My contest scores came back. I
didn't final, but two out of three judges loved my story and my writing and gave me high scores. Not
too bad. (Smile) I spent some time scanning older manuscripts into my computer, and then doing a
lot of rewriting before I decided they might be hopeless. I haven't given up on them completely, and
might give them another try later down the road.
I needed to work on something newer, or maybe even new. After some testing, I settled in to work on a
manuscript titled Read My Mind. This is my first paranormal romantic suspense. I love the story and
love the characters--and paranormal comes as natural to me as cooking those big southern meals my
family loves. So many people insisted paranormal was too hard to find a home for, so I tried to keep it
down, but it usually popped up in any fiction I wrote. So I figured, why fight it. I might as well write
what I like to write.
Summer 2004
Things haven't gone as well as I had hoped. They were going so great at first -- and then my father
began to do worse. Once again writing became last on my list of what needed doing. By the end of May
I was spending hours a day with Daddy. By the time he was put in the hospital, I often spent whole
days there. I was there with him on the morning of June the second when he took his last breath and
finally left all of his suffering behind. I had never dreamed that while I was still in my thirties, I would
have to say a final goodbye to both of my parents.
It's been a little while, and it seems like I can breath through the pain at last. I'm still feeling a little
lost, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I'm testing the waters again. Not pushing myself,
but writing a little here and a little there, taking time to plot out chapters, get to know my characters,
and time to slink away and lick my wounds on the days that I feel the need.
I know writing and sending out work is the only way to move forward, so that's my goal. I even sent off
a chapter to an RWA contest last week. One small step....only a thousand left to go. (Smile)
Spring 2004
I had a long talk with myself. Either I want to be a romance writer or I don't. I was tired of playing
around. I said, okay, I don't want to be a romance writer but I would be happy to continue to help
others reach for that dream. That would be enough. I even opened up the folder on the computer
where I keep my writing files, and had my finger above that delete key. I figured the best thing to do
was to make a clean break. Just delete those few finished manuscripts I had and move on. Even the
ones that weren't finished. There would be no second guesses, no going back. It just would be over
and done with.
I began to hit the delete key again and again, and watched each file disappear. I didn't even notice at
first, but there were tears running down my face. This wasn't what I wanted. I had always wanted to
be a writer, and for the longest part of that time, a romance writer. It was my favorite genre. It was the
only kind of writing I loved. By the time I had deleted that last file, I was sobbing. This was wrong. I
didn't want to give this up. I just wanted the fire back that I'd lost after those first years.
I opened up the recycle bin and restored every file, my hands shaking as I did. I had forced myself into
a corner. Like my mom had always said, it was time to either put up or shut up. What she really said
was to either pee or get off the pot!
So here it is, 2004, and I'm trying my best. It has been a smooth start, I'm working on the rewrite for
one story, and actually writing a new story. I think before the year is over I might find that fire again
and maybe be back to sending work out. If not, I'll just keep trying until I do find it. I've even made a
new side to my website, just for me as an author. Something I've never bothered with before. Yes, I'm
going to keep the other side of my site up, and up dated, and keep my e-mail lists going, all to help
other writers as much as I can, but I'm going to pour some of those hours into my own writing again,
at least for the next couple of years or so, and see what I can do.
Keep your fingers crossed for me!
2003
I went through starts and stops. I even sent out some stuff now and then, but the writing was hard. I
knew I was a better writer than I had been way back when. My query letters earned me requests for
completes, and then when rejection letters came they were detailed and often asked to see more work.
But I wasn't sending out much. And I wasn't writing much. I seemed content doing e-mail or working
on my website, helping others, while doing nothing for my own writing. And, just maybe that's how I
want to keep it.
1998 - 2002
My freelance writing took the form of cards and little odds and ends, but my full-time jobs were writing
short biographies of famous singers and musicians. Later, even musical reviews of their works. It was
interesting the first few years, but having to write one bio after another, having those tight weekly
deadlines, all of it non-fiction when my first love was not only fiction, but romantic fiction, it just begin
to numb me. I was almost relieved when the freelance work ran out after five long years.
Yes, it was scary giving up those weekly checks, but I would finally be able to return to my romance
writing! I was thrilled. Then the time came. I opened the file of the last manuscript I had worked on so
long ago, and went blank. I didn't seem to remember how or where to begin.
I had kept in touch with romance writing by running and taking part in e-mail lists for romance
writers, and by keeping my website for romance writers up to date and making it the best I could. But
somehow I had still lost that part of me.
I was scared I'd never find her again.
1997
This was the year I meant to make it. I did more rewrites--yes, I was still learning. I guess I always will
be. At least I hope my writing keeps getting better and better, my voice stronger, my characters more
believable, and all of that other good stuff. To prove my intentions, I got rejections by the scores this
year. They came from Dell, Harper, Avon, Bantam, Harlequin, Warner, Signet, St. Martin's Press, and
even a few more agents.
By the end of this year though, my romance writing would take a back seat--once again. I never did
find a job that I could work around my kids, but as a one-income family, we just weren't making it. I
had hoped against hope that my romance writing would take care of that. Even explained to my
husband that these first years of earning nothing were really my college years, the time I needed to
learn and grow so I would be a good enough writer to make that first sale. But time was up. So I began
full-time freelance writing and did make it there.
1996
I made a huge step. I got a computer. And then the Internet. I was able to go on line and join e-mail
groups where the members were all romance writers. I slowly felt pulled back to my writing. I thought I
would play around with the stories I had finished. So I took one of the floppy disk from my old Brother
WP and popped it into my computer.
And the computer couldn't read the disk!
In fact, no computer, not even another WP, could read it. The only thing that could was my old Brother
WP. We bought a scanner and I managed to scan one manuscript in, but what a huge nightmare to do,
and that's not even counting the mess it made of the formatting and even the words. It looks like my
other manuscripts might be forever lost, or lost until they come up with a better scanner that is still
cheap. I did find a company that could convert those disks so they would be readable, but they wanted
a couple of thousand to do so. Not doable.
1995
This was the year that almost broke me. I started out great. Finished school, scored high on my test,
even math, and got that hard-earned GED. Even got to wear the cap and gown. My husband did the
whole back-to-school thing with me. We wanted our children to see that we thought an education was
important.
This was also the year we paid our little house off, and things finally started to look up for us
financially. By that I mean we could afford something other than chicken leg quarters and red beans.
Things were tight, but improving. My husband had a better job, my son and daughter were doing well
in school, and I had started looking around for a part time job that I could fit in around the their
school hours.
I was even writing when I could, and sent off a couple of things early that year, one to Avon and the
other to an agent. I was still mostly finishing up rewrites, but I knew that what I was turning out was
so much better. I finally could write what I felt was publishable work. I thought it was only a matter of
time until I made that first sale.
And then the world turned upside down. My mom got sick, and then sicker, and soon we were told she
had cancer. Lung cancer. (She had started smoking in her teens.) Writing didn't seem very important
any more. As spring faded into summer, I moved my family into my mom's home so I could care for her
around the clock. My father wasn't well either, and so he stepped aside and left it all up to me. I had to
make decisions I never wanted to even think about. And before fall was over, my mother was gone
forever. I didn't care if I ever wrote another word.
I didn't think I would.
1994
Things began to fall into place this year for my writing--at least with me finally knowing what I should
know. I was working on a new story, another historical. Mostly I was rewriting. Fixing all that was
wrong with those first stories. I had learned so much over the last couple of years about pace, plotting,
characters, and more. But this was also the year I went back to school. Even on the first test they gave
me at night school, I scored college level in English, so all of the hard work was paying off. Spelling,
well, that was still weak. Thank goodness for spell check. (Smile)
This year I earned rejections from Silhouette, Dorchester, and two agents, but I was beginning to get
personal rejection letters with comments. (I say earned because you do have to work to get a rejection.
I had to complete a novel, learn to format, polish it, and even do market research to be able to send it
to the right publishers--and then I had to have the nerve to mail it. That's not a give away, that's work,
so those rejections, though still rejections, were hard earned.)
I didn't spend as much time writing and submitting this year, since I was spending most of my not-
mommy and not-wife time working on school. But that was okay too.
I found out I still hated math!
1993
This is the year I began to really get the hang of things. I had written a couple of letters to some
published authors, who kindly shared info with me. One lived in New Orleans, a couple of hours from
my little town, and she invited me to attend an RWA meeting there. Oh, it was like magic, being in a
room with other writers, having so much info being offered. I joined RWA and soon had answers to
questions I didn't even know I had. I also sent work off to an agent, and in March got my first agent
rejection. At least it wasn't a form letter this time. I was learning and becoming a better writer.
A few days letter I got another form rejection letter, this one from The Editors at Dell. By then I had
finished Indian Beads & Silver Spurs, and had sent it off to Avon Books. I also tried another agent
With RWA I joined my first critique group, where my work was torn to pieces. I left that meeting with
blood on my pages. Not really, but it felt like that. I found out I still knew nothing. I didn't understand
point of view, I didn't know what a strong conflict was, anything about pace, and my grammar and
spelling were still not perfect. I cried half way home, and that was a long two-hour ride. In the end
though, I just became more determined to learn. I was a stay-at-home mom, I was poor, I hadn't even
graduated from high school because I was getting married when my friends were starting their senior
year, but I wasn't stupid and I came from darn strong stock. If I put my mind to something, I could do
it, and no one was going to tell my I couldn't.
In September I got rejections from Avon Books and the agent. I sent a query and the first three
chapters of Indian Beads & Silver Spurs to Leisure. In December I got a request for the complete
manuscript. I was thrilled. I just knew this was going to be it. I also finished my third novel, Mister
Magic.
1992
I learned a lot this year! I got to pass the manual typewriter off to a nephew when my husband used
the money we got back from our income taxes to buy a Brother Word Possessor from Wal-Marts. I
didn't know much about that WP, but sat down and began copying my story in. I didn't figure it matter
that I didn't know how to save it to disk, since I would only need to print it out once. Then it would be
my first sale and the editors would take care of the rest. (If you are a writer who has been at writing a
while, and you're reading this, please stop laughing now, or at least put the soda down before you
destroy your computer.)
You guessed it, I learned to save, and had to type that whole manuscript in again. Groan! That story
became Dakota Magic; my first completed manuscript, and was a huge five hundred pages long. I
didn't know anything about point of view, so head hopping was the rule.
By the last part of the year I was ready to submit work. Didn't know much about that either, and I
didn't have the Internet, but I did have a library. They had one book there on becoming a romance
writer. I followed all of the info listed in that book, at least as best I could. Dakota Magic was mailed off
to Avon Books on September 14th and earned me my very first rejection. It was a form letter sent by
editor Alice Webster, and arrived on September 25th. (Now I know that just the speed of that rejection
should have told me something about how awful my writing was.) I cried for hours, even not knowing
that. I was crushed, my world was over, I was nothing. (At least that was how it felt at the time.) (Smile)
Not one to give up, two days later I mailed that complete manuscript right back out, this time to
Leisure Books. Assistant Editor Edith D. Wilson sent me a form rejection four weeks later. I cried
again, then put that baby right back in the mail, this time to Zebra Books. It took them less than four
weeks to send me my next rejection. This one was simply signed The Editors. By then, thankfully, I
was hard at work on a second story, Indian Beads & Silver Spurs, or I might have tossed in the towel.
The End of 1991
I was caught up in the middle of a romance novel, like always, this one set in the Old West. It was a
great read, but some things just weren't turning out the way I thought they should. I was complaining
to my husband about something the heroine had done that I didn't think she really would have.
(When I read a book the characters are real people to me.) He had just gotten home from a long shift at
work, and was about to get a bath. He made the mistake of saying those infamous words, "If you think
you can do better, then why don't you write one."
(I wonder how many writers have started their careers because of those words?)
I thought, okay, I'll show him. So the next day while he was at work, my son at school, and my
daughter coloring, I sat down with pen and paper and started to write--as a joke really. I intended to
write two or three pages, enough to give my hubby a shock. Since I was sure he never thought I would
do what he said. I mean, how often do we really listen to our husbands? By the time I had to leave to
pick up my son from school that evening, I had twelve pages written, and the whole plot for a story in
mind. Guess the joke was on me.
A few weeks later, when the rest of my family found out what I was doing, and that I intended to keep
doing it, my mom and sister found a big old manual typewriter at the Good Will store, and brought it
home to me as a surprise. I was thrilled! After all, I loved watching reruns of the Waltons and knew
from the trouble John Boy had that even back then editors wanted typed manuscripts, not hand
written ones. (Wish that show had taught me a few more things, like proper page formatting.) I typed
that first MS single spaced, and didn't worry too much over a few grammar mistakes or words spelled
wrong. After all, that's what editors were for, right?
A Starting Point
I've been a book lover since they taught me to read those first words. While other kids played outside, I
sat propped up in bed or on the couch, even on the floor, lost in the world of fairy tales. Animal books
came next, everything from the Black Stallion to My Sister the Horse. I branched out from there. My
mother was proud of my reading appetite, and fed it well. I never lacked for a new book, even if they
were borrowed from a friend or came from the library.
In high school my reading took a sharp turn when a friend let me borrow one of her books. It was a
romance novel, a big historical one with a pirate on the cover. (Oh, how I wish I could remember the
title of that book or the name of the author.)
Reading that one book hooked me on a genre like nothing else had ever done. I read one romance
novel after another. At first they were all historicals. I went happily from pirates, to cowboys, to
knights. It actually took me a couple of years to move to contemporaries. In fact, I read only
contemporaries for a long time after I found them, and then found a comfortable combination. There
wasn't one kind of romance novel I didn't like. I even tried my hand at writing, though never got very
far. And oddly enough, never tried to write a romance.
Maybe all of those happy endings had something to do with my early marriage. I said I do at the ripe
old age of seventeen--my groom was the same age, in fact, he was four months younger than I. A little
over a year later I became the proud mother of a bouncing baby boy. A beautiful baby girl followed four
years after. I guess we were really lucky. Really poor too, but happy more often than not.
Before we had our first child we talked and agreed that I would be a stay-at-home mom until the
youngest child we had was at least ten. After a few years though I found myself a stay-at-home mom
who actually found herself with free time on her hands. My son was in school all day; my little girl
was three-years-old and learning to entertain herself.
That point is where the romance writing began...
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Journal of Romance Author Charlotte Dillon.
This journal isn't the kind where I write down my daily
thoughts and happenings. It's kind of a review of seasons,
months, sometimes a whole year or even a few years.
Looking back over it reminds me of how very quickly time
can slip by.
For more often thoughts I have a blog that I use. You can
find a link to it on the side of this page.
thoughts and happenings. It's kind of a review of seasons,
months, sometimes a whole year or even a few years.
Looking back over it reminds me of how very quickly time
can slip by.
For more often thoughts I have a blog that I use. You can
find a link to it on the side of this page.