What I wanted to compare, after stepping back a few days and then studying it with a realistic approach, was how a pair of movies were marketed and how that affects the reaction and/or appeal. My husband (love you, honey) really helped me realize the truth to this via a very unscientific approach. And I’ve said out loud several times since… if these were books, things would be so different…

Last week the TV offerings were bleh, so we ordered 10,000 BC on pay per view.
The Plot is summarized as this: “A prehistoric epic that follows a young mammoth hunter’s journey through uncharted territory to secure the future of his tribe.” It does say Adventure/Romance on the genre listing at IMBD.com, but I don’t recall any of the trailers highlighting romance. At all.

From my point of view, this SCREAMED of a romance plotline, sooooo much so. Man meets woman, man wants woman, man almost has her, man loses her, man is willing to do anything and everything to get her back. In the mean time, man saves all of his people trying to get to her. Sorry if that spoils anything but…. the romantic thread was the strongest and most important in this. Without it, the movie would have fallen apart. The hero (and I can’t even remember the names, they didn’t stick, sorry) had one quest, one motivation and it was very obvious. At one point he makes a decision that appears to show he’s willing to forsake everything else just to save the woman he loves. It was absolutely sweet and heart tugging, in a caveman sort of way. The movie was good, not great, not bad, but would make an incredibly well written historical/paranomal book. Shelved as a mammoth novel in the romance section, thankyouverymuch. (pardon the pun)

My husband, who doesn’t think with a writer’s mind, much less a romance writer’s mind, saw this as a kick ass action/adventure where bands of tribes got together to defeat the bad guy(s). And in the meantime, save the girl, cuz the hero always gets the girl. Right? It was marketed as such–see Plotline description above. I think the marketing team banking on the Action genre generating more dollars at the theatre and DVD than a romance tag.

And then, the very next night, we watched Fool’s Gold. Stop here if you can’t handle mild spoilers.
The plot line for this one reads: “A new clue to the whereabouts of a lost treasure rekindles a married couple’s sense of adventure — and their estranged romance.”

Now, as one who doesn’t watch much TV, I’d seen only a bit about this movie, and really thought it was marketed as a romance–with an action subplot. I’m guessing on this one they were banking on the stellar on-screen chemistry between Kate Hudson and Matthew M. Because seriously? It was more actiony than romancy. Not that it wasn’t there, but …..

In a romance, I’ve been told, and heard and it’s been implied that there’s a journey the characters take, sometimes changing or learning or realizing to bring them to the position where they can finally be together. In the case of a couple who are separated, by break up or divorce or whatever, the “reason” that kept them apart/caused them to break up should be “Fixed” before HEA, no? No one told the marketing firm that made Fool’s Gold appear to be an upbeat, funny romance. Romantic? had it’s moments, but truly romance? *I* don’t see it.

I sincerely had a hard time believing that the “external plot” that brought them back together would be enough to overcome the issues that tore them apart. Well, aside from the fact money had been an issue and that kinda sorta gets resolved with the external plot part. But is that enough? Eh…..I wouldn’t buy it in a book, so why in a movie? But yet it worked cuz Kate and Matt are incredible on screen, the antics are great and it has a neat little plot that keeps ya guessing–oh, and just enough beating up, gunfire and suspense to keep the men from going, “oh geez, turn it off will ya, you’re killing me!”

And if anyone doubts me, there’s that line at the end where Ben tells Tess, “I’ve changed, I’m different, I promise…” (or something like that) and she says “You have not.” But kisses him anyway. Yeah, that sold me on the romance being for evah.

My husband loved it and totally bought it as a romance–mainly because he thinks Kate has great facial expressions and likes Matthew as an actor. He knew going in it was romantic and even thought that’s what would appeal to me and coerce me into another movie night instead of writing. Honey, I watched it for the treasure hunting. Seriously, I dig that stuff. LOL.

Funny how things work, isn’t it? I realize the general public isn’t going to analyze it the way I did. In both these movies there’s the HEA, which means, couple is together, bad guy is….out of the picture and all other issues have been resolved, either on or implied has happened off screen. But marketing was kinda flip flopped, likely in order to appeal to the audiences they wanted to see the film.

Either way, check em out. 10,000 BC had some neat effects and a well-used plot line that seems to continue to work, and this was just…so different than stuff I’d seen lately. Kinda of refreshing. Fool’s Gold? Matthew and Kate work sooo good together and it has some great comedy and of course, a dash for treasure. What’s not to love?

Apples and Wine

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most Men don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.

Instead, they sometimes take the ; apples from the ground that aren’t as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, there’re amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Now Men….Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it’s up to women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

Okay, so it’s rather detrimental to men, but let’s consider the first part again, especially this last line…

wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree

Aren’t THOSE the men we write about in romance? Aren’t THOSE the ones who make up the characters that make us catch our breath, our chest tighten and give us faith in love? Even thought we might never have heard this particular analogy, I think it’s apt–and probably applies to the thinking pattern of most romance readers and writers.

The wine part? I just included it ‘cuz that’s funny right there.

Good company, some really good burgers and a lot of laughs helped make all that manual labor seem slight. We loaded up a whole kitchen’s worth of cabinets and now have them stored in my garage, basement, living room…..go figure. Meant I got very little writing done those two days, but I’ll just figure the experience is worth writing about at some point…eventually. Right?

I just added a cool pal, Rhonda McKey to my blog lineup. She’s a brilliant writer and I’m convinced we’ll soon be enjoying her books right off the shelf in Border and B&N.

Not sure I’ve got much else to report. I can’t believe it’s darn near the end of May. We were hoping to hit the Indy 500 again this year, but doesn’t look like we can spare the expense, considering the next kitchen to be taken down to bare walls and sub-floors will be mine.

Okay, off to write while I have a little time. Ciao!

Anyway, I’m super pleased and proud to tell you that my Cerridwen Press release, Brand Name Dates, fits this category! It’s a fun book and one I really, really love.

I’ve been writing, but not gonna say more less I jinx myself and figuratively duct tape the muse’s mouth closed. BAD BAD thing, that.

I see Jaci’s got a smokin’ new cover to go along with those smokin’ hot books of hers. Check it out.

Emma Wayne Porter is a great friend of mine and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention her new gig, editing for Lyrical Press. Do her a favor and check out some of her handiwork..okay, editing handiwork. She’s a pretty awesome writer as well…

Oh, and there’s been some really neat changes, including the addition of three fantabulous writers to the AFTER MIDNIGHT FANTASIES author group… stop by the website–and blog–and check out our contests via writerspace as well.

I’m off to write. BYE!

Then, if that wasn’t enough, I pulled out a real short story I’d written, read it, went…. wtf, why didn’t I do anything with this? and proceeded to synopsize it. Not sure where THAT will go, but hey, it’s progress.

And now, the hard part…what to pick up next?

Thing is, I did about… three synopsis for this story as I went, but due to characters bullheadedness growth, and changes in the plot to “Fix” things, well, none of them really apply.

If you need me, I’ll be hiding under a rock, trying to condense it. Oh, and wanted to say that despite it ONLY being a 28K story, that’s about twice what my intended word count is. Word whore. Mandy, let’s wear our hat (shit, typed hate….that’s no good) anyhoot, let’s wear our HAT with pride. But now what the hell do I do with a story too long for a quicky/anthology/etc, but too short for category/single title? *snort*

There was little to see until dawn, when the first light cast everything gray, including the wide stretches of water, trees reaching upward from hidden roots, telephone poles stoic in midst of still ponds. The grand Mississippi seemed ten miles wide, it’s greedy mouth eating up farmland, threatening roads, erasing property lines and landscapes.

I love the hills. As we crested each, I held my breath, waiting for the vision that would be laid out before me. A ribbon of black road curling past farmland, wet and dry. Homes dotted the view, as did horses and cattle, longhorn and domestic. At times, the mountains had risen up to reclaim their land, giant teeth of rock closing up over the roadway. We might claim to have tamed nature, but nature’s glory remains for us to see, to honor and to take our breath away.

A backyard of rocks, stepping stones to a twisting creek. Cool water rushed over colorful stones, pieces of earth from when it was young, rocks lined with color, strata of forgotten times. I witnessed a snake curled in clover, the sun glistening off its scales. Further down, in the creek, tadpoles danced to the hypnotic rhythm of cascading water. We made our own waves, resonance of skipping stones to the opposite bank. Later, we listened to stories of the animals seen, standing where we’d stood, mountain lion, coyote, raccoon, deer and even the occasional panther. Those memories will be imbedded in my mind and in the stones I brought home with me, where time and nature had carved their mark in the solid pieces of earth I could now hold.

We drove for miles, visiting family, creating bonds, sharing laughter and smiles. Warmed by the gentle sun and crushing hugs, we continued our journey, visually absorbing the landscapes. We slowed near a one room house, long abandoned to the wildlife. Memories of one who had been through before erased the colorless wood and gave the home life, a name, a face. Now it was shelter from the flooded fields for a family of gray rabbit who peered at us curiously from the doorless frame.

We past skeletons of once aligned white picket fences, making me wonder about the dreams of those who had lived there, and hoping they’d achieved them. I felt sorrow for the old barns, some weary with age, some having surrendered to the elements and now crumbled, gray and used. One made me smile, a patchwork of repairs, colorful but practical made new what nature dared to reclaim. It’s upper windows, open, seemed like giant, smiling eyes as vehicles flashed by on the highway, it said, I will not be defeated.

Silver towers full of harvest reached upward from the earth. Fields, still winter dormant stood in wait, some dry, some with rows filled with water, some completely submerged between the swollen river water.

We visited a cemetery to bid goodbye to loved ones lost. We walked the rows, daring to remember those we didn’t know. Ghosts came alive as we read their name, their dates of birth and death. Their lives were whispers of history we cannot know, and hopefully someone will never forget. Another graveyard, barely holding on to the tiny bit of land, wedged between rusted railroad tracks and a highway, with a dusty gravel road cutting neatly across them. Only a few remaining testimonies to those who settled the land remained, tilted and broken, their once white memorials grayed and faded. Dates reaching back to 1830. Lifetimes ago. There on the edge of oblivion, neither forgotten nor remembered. Everyone knows the corner, but no one knows their names.

There were dozens of tiny towns, clusters of homes with a few central stores. Their populations minimal, some less than five hundred, few more than five thousand. A world I could not know, have never experienced. A place where strangers wave at one another, all greetings are positive and cheerful and a smile makes you kin. A pace slower than this northern town, a quiet peace that eeks into your blood after only a few moments of breathing the crisp, clean air. It’s borne upon the sound of the birds, the taste of the water.

There were no tourist traps, no giant amusement parks. No fancy restaurants, shows or itineraries that dictated our days. Each was ours to embrace, to use as God gave us ability to do so, and to enjoy in a way to remember and cherish.

I’ve placed a few pictures on the pics page, if you’re inclined, check them out.

I also pulled out paper and pen and on the way home, wrote fragments and run-ons (don’t think I managed a complete sentence in there) of descriptions and thoughts and impressions of the trip. I run through them tomorrow, after my brain isn’t boggled from 12 hours in the back seat of an extended cab pickup and post them to see if I can’t just “show” you some of the things I saw, but might not have backed up with photo proof.

One of my cats was nice enough (or mad enough) to hack up a hairball right in the middle of my bed while I was gone, so I need to log off, go rustle up a new sheet and blanket and remake the bed. Then crawl in it. Without hesitation.

It’s one of my intentions to catch up in blogland tomorrow. Amidst laundry, getting film developed, getting groceries and psyching myself up to go back to work. Why are vacations so short?

I’d thought I’d made progress, then realized I’d locked Hero and Heroine all up …. without condoms.

*gasp* *boooo* *huffs* *throws book against the wall*

How DARE I?

Maybe cuz I’m 30-something, been married to the same man half my life and do not/have never slept around, but I don’t automatically THINK about those things. I might get bitchslapped into Monday when I say this–but I hate reading about them. It ruins the mood and pulls me out of the story.

This is my thought pattern. We don’t talk about the heroine getting her period. We also don’t talk about either hero or heroine having to go to the bathroom, with few exceptions where a) it’s a comedy or b) it’s really leading to other action. (confrontation, discovery, even sneaking out the window…) We don’t, as a rule, see heroine pull down her panties and actually pee. (Heaven forbid she had to do ’something else’. I.DON’T.WANT.TO.KNOW)

And honestly, I feel the same way about condoms. If I’m still reading the book come sex time, then I like the characters. I’ll believe she wipes front to back like a good little girl. I’ll trust she brushes AND flosses and that the hero actually scrubs between his toes. Unless told otherwise, I’ll even believe he calls his mom every Sunday, cleans the cat litter box and feeds his animals appropriately. I’ll also believe their intelligent enough to use a condom. But damn, damn and more damn, if a writer had to spell all that crap out in a book just cuz someone ASSUMES if it’s not there, it doesn’t happen, well, lets just say I’d read SOOOOO much less.

I know it’s been brought up, argued, debated and everyone has a very real and honest opinion. I personally, have a DAMN hard time believing a heroine tastes oh-so-sweet when the hero kisses her after a night’s sleep. (see above comment about being married half my life–I ain’t sweet pre-brushing, and God love ya honey, neither is he.) I deal. See it all the time. Pretend they both had a chance to sneak off for mouthwash or a bedside mint.

So… my book will have ONE condom mention. Some of my books have none. I’m not apologizing. It’s life. Deal. If you need them to use them, then they did. It’s fiction. Fantasy. Come up with your own betwen the lines stuff.