Pam Writes Romance

When I was doing my agent vetting for Query Day, a singular thought kept popping into my head. It was the sex-education talk given to three brothers who were friends of my brother’s when I was growing up. It went a little something like this:

“Just remember, you’re no longer shooting blanks.”

It took me a little while to figure out why sex education was vying with my agent list in my head, but I did. I realized that querying an agent was like asking somebody out—you have to be prepared that they say yes and are willing to accept all consequences of said date. I think sometimes us debut authors get a little carried away when querying and tend to get a little sloppy with our requirements. This leads to what I think of as The Shotgun Approach—if you blast a list with a multitude of queries, you’re bound to hit at least one.

But we shouldn’t be doing it this way. There’s an amazing agency that handles a lot of romance, an agency  I’d be so very lucky to get, but there’s a little voice in the back of my head saying Not for you. So I’m not querying them. Because if something in me is saying no and I query them anyway, I could end up with them. They certainly don’t deserve a lukewarm client and I certainly shouldn’t shoot myself in the foot that way. (Sorry about all of the shooting metaphors. I did warn you I’m from Montana.)

But, there is a good lesson to be had from the live ammunition side of life, and it’s this: Put it into your writing.

Who of us wants to write with a lot of flash and bang, but no substance, no teeth? I want to write stories that mean something, that dig deeper and really carry a message, and I can’t do that if I’m shooting blanks. I want the spark and the heat, but I also want the emotional slug to the gut, so I need to make sure I’m loaded for Great Writing before I sit down at the keyboard. And then I can fire away.

 Bang.

* Follow up to the three brothers and the effect the sex-ed talk had on them—none are married and none have kids. Guess the talk worked.

I was driving into work this morning, the iPod set on shuffle, when a song by one of my favorite bands came on. They also do a podcast every now and then, and I wondered if they had a recent one available. But there’s only one problem.

They *bleeping* bleep themselves.

Now, I’m pretty sure there are no FCC regulations prohibiting rated R language, because there’s another podcast I listen to that can get pretty raw, so I figure it must be by choice. So why did they choose to do it?

Maybe it’s just me, but I find the bleeping more offensive than the language used, and it got me thinking not about the band, but about the listeners and how they felt about the bleeping. I mean, this is a band that, by their own description, “had their apprenticeships in the pubs of Atlantic Canada” so it’s no surprise that they drop f-bombs here and there. Given that knowledge about them (in addition to the fact they perform such songs as “The Old Black Rum” and “Jakey’s Gin”), I expect these partying musicians to be quite free with their speech while talking amongst themselves, even if they know they’re being recorded. But as I said, maybe that’s just me.

My question is, if there were a person who was offended by certain language, be it strong or promiscuous, and wanted it bleeped out, would that person be the type to listen to a band who sings about drinking, girls, slutty fish, and, yes, even wanting to be Consequence Free? This question is a similar one I’ve discussed with some writer friends—if, as a writer, you’ve crafted your story with some raw or edgy or violent or erotic elements, should you hold back anything in trying to gain a wider audience, or do you lose something of your voice keeping things on the cleaner side? And, if you do hold back, even a little bit, do you risk more by losing those who are your true and deep fans, those who want to see you swing for the fences, than by possibly gaining fans who aren’t so passionate?

I think you can tell which way I lean on this, but I know that I often have thoughts that really aren’t mainstream. (Sorry to those of you who just fainted at that admission. I really should have warned you.) I also realize we’re dealing with the really sticky issue of censorship, be it self-imposed or institutionally sanctioned, so I don’t know that there’s really a neat way to tie this up. (Speaking of erotic…) Maybe we’ll leave it at this—to thine own self be true. Or, as my friend Brian used to say, “Whatever floats your boat.”

 Toot, toot.

“Let your hook always be cast. In the pool where you least expect it, will be fish.”                     ~Ovid, Roman poet

Wow. How’s that for a visceral quote for a writer? It instantly reminded me of something I had heard on one of my RWA National Convention discs–that this author (I’m not sure who, but I remember she has since been multi-published) said that when she was first querying, she had a very specific practice. She picked a number, such as 24, and would keep that many lines in the water (her words). If she got a rejection, she’d get another query or contest entry out there right away, so that she always had those 24 hooks out there.

Does that practice work for everybody? Not necessarily, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have your own version of hooks being cast. Maybe you have always written cozy mysteries but have had a deep yearning to do a wild epic fantasy. Why not? The worst that happens is that you have both mysteries and fantasies you can query and, Ovid willing, sell. Or maybe you want to try categories instead of the single-title contemporaries you’ve been trying. Why not? Cast those hooks, my babies. Take your pole and cast it as high and as far as you can. I would be willing to bet if nothing else, you’ll have a hell of a fun time in the trying.