What’s in a Name?

Grace St. John. Niall Robertson or Black Niall. Rhage. Mary Luce. Pia Giovanni. Dragos Cuelebre.
If these names were thrown at me in the middle of a conversation about gardening and stamp collecting, I would instantly know, ooh!! Son of the Morning by Linda Howard! Oh snap! Lover Eternal by J.R. Ward! Oh heck yeah! Dragon Bound by Thea Harrison! I love those books!!

No, no, it’s not a photographic memory. Or a weird, selective form of Tourette's Syndrome. I know these characters because they—their names—represent the essence of the books. Grace St. John: Simple, stalwart, and a God-given mercy and salvation. Black Niall or Niall Robertson: strong, dark, mysterious, regal. Rhage: powerful, an inward, simmering anger, emotional. Mary Luce: innocent, hidden by powerful strength, worthy. Pia Giovanni: reverent, pure, sexy, independent. Dragos Cuelebre: mysterious, dangerous, serpent.

My point?

A name is everything! When I’m starting a book, one of the very first things I spend more time over than the actual plot is the names of my hero and heroine. To me this is one of the most important elements of the story because not only should their monikers embody the hero and heroine’s personalities, but they should be memorable. Just like I remember the characters above, I want a reader of my book to be able to call out my hero’s name and follow it up with, oh I loooove hiiimm!! And yes, draw it out just like that!

I write down my characters’ appearances, personalities, quirks and origins. And then I hit the baby name websites. And then Wikipedia. And follow that up with cultural websites that contain information on religion, traditions, etc. So much more goes into the selection than "unh-unh-that-will-so-not-sound-cute-when-she-calls-his-name-out-while-orgasming. Uh, not saying that’s not one of my criteria though. “Oh God, Oswald!” Nope, just not working for me… But there’s more to consider. If my hero is of Irish descent, why does he have a Persian name? I either need to change it or have a good reason why—which could lead to a colorful tidbit in his history or backstory. Or—and don’t nobody email me about this!!—if my African-American heroine is named Sheniqua or Sheneneh, I need to have a damn good reason! Because it’s comical stereotyping, did she have a ghetto mother who named her that and she is incredibly bougie or hates her name? Is it part of the story? Because if not—and it isn’t a screenplay for In Living Color the Movie—it’s gotta go!  But a beautiful, appropriate name—no matter how simple, exotic or colorful—is the beginning of a beautiful character and an even more wonderful book!

On that note, I did a little investigating and scoped out some of the freakin’ weirdest baby celebrity names…All’s I’m sayin’ is they have nooo consideration what these kids are going to endure when they go to school…And that’s all’s I’m saying’…

1. Kal-El *Nicolas Cage’s son, named after Superman’s Krypton name...but then again he changed his last name to Cage in honor of Luke Cage, soooo…

2. Fifi Trixibelle *Daughter of Irish singer and songwriter, Bob Geldof. I don’t know who he is, but do I really need to go into why this is a bad idea?

3. Apple *Gwyneth Paltrow’s daughter. Applehead. Applebottom. Appaloosa. Kids are cruel and you just handed them ammo…

4. Destry *Daughter of Steven Spielberg. Now, I honestly don’t think this one is too bad considering it makes me automatically think of “Destro” from G.I. Joe, one of my favorite childhood cartoons! But other people may not make that connection…

And the winner is…

Again, don’t nobody email me because everyone is fair game! My name is Naima for godsakes! I love it, but not many first graders know that Naima is a cool John Coltrane song! That said….

5. Prince Michael II/Blanket *Michael Jackson’s son. What? Did Mike run out of ideas? Did he just say, uh…how ‘bout George? Nah. What about Ralph? Naw. F*** it! Prince Michael II! And what is he wrapped in? A blanket? There you go, that’s what we’ll call him so we don’t confuse him with Prince Michael the First. Anyway, that’s what it sounded like to me…

Okay, I’m finished! How important do you think a name is? What is your favorite character name? Or do you want to add to my list? Go for it!

P.S. – The Zappa kids are disqualified because…well, just because…

Learning the Tropes

I cut my teeth on category books—I learned about romance from the huge, dusty box filled with Harlequin books my grandmother kept on her porch. I’d sit on the couch out there and read for hours. I’d begin on a Saturday morning, and by the time I finished, the sun was setting. And over the years my love affair with category books hasn’t waned.

Last week I read a Harlequin Presents book Strangers in the Desert by Lynn Raye Harris. Now, I have been a major fan of Ms. Harris for a couple of years. I love her writing! It’s emotional, sensual and always satisfying. After closing a book by her, I always feel like I’ve been on a journey, a wonderful exotic journey of romance, strife and love conquering all. Strangers in the Desert didn’t let me down. But what really made the book for me was the trope. For the most part all category books surround a particular trope—y’know, best friends to lovers, millionaire falls for secretary, fake fiancé, intimate strangers. Well Lynn Raye Harris took two of the oldest tropes in romance history—amnesia and the secret baby—and did her own twist on them. And did it with imaginative flair that simply wow-ed me! She took a seemingly far-fetched idea and made it so believable that I never doubted the validity of the characters, story or plot! There was a secret baby, of course…but instead of the father not knowing about the infant, the mother didn’t! Why? Because she suffered from amnesia! I know, I know what you’re thinking! How in the hell…? But Ms. Harris, hats off! You did that! She handled it masterfully, and I absolutely loved how she took old tropes and twisted them within an inch of their long, tried-and-true lives to make the book brand new, fresh and so romantic I sighed—actually sighed—at the end.

Well, the book got me thinking about other tropes I shamelessly enjoy. Call it guilty pleasure, and chuckle if you must, but I adore tropes. And there are certain ones that are drop-dead deal breakers for me. First, there’s the best friends to lovers. Reading how two people who have loved each other for years, have an intimacy forged in childhood by shared secrets and traumas, suddenly see each other in a new light is a wonder to me. I enjoy following their conflicted emotions as they discover that the one who knows them best is also the one who fulfills every desire they’ve dreamed about and hoped for. Sigh. See? I did it again! Then there’s the—you got it!—secret baby. Call me a sucker, but I am a fool for that trope. Especially when the father is a cynical, hard-hearted, confirmed bachelor who finds his heart melted by a baby’s guileless smile and innocent tug on his finger…tearing up here.

And what about the reunited lovers? Or the ugly duckling? Or the big-girl-who-loses-a-whole-bunch-of-weight-but-still-feels-like-a-big-girl-with-big-girl-insecurities-in-a-skinny-chick’s-body trope? Oh, that isn’t one? It should be!

What’s your favorite trope? Have you read any good books lately that has one? Do tell!

Some People Just Shouldn't Bother!

So I’m hijacking this Tuesday since I missed my post from last week. *sheepish grin that I’m hoping everyone thinks is cute* I travelled to Chicago for a wedding and had car lag because a sista made “The Drive”! Ten &^%&# hours! Thanks to Munchies, Cherry Coke and Wal-Dryl it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been but… *sigh* Good Lawd! It was looong! I did get to see Harpo Studios (Hi, Oprah!). Aaaand I had myself a funnel cake at the Navy Pier! Below are pics of me at Harpo and me trying to avoid my hubby while I stuff my face with funnel cake. Ah. Good times!

Well my mom took care of the kids for us…and you would think after my last fiasco I would’ve learned my lesson. But, alas, no, I didn’t. You have to understand this important factor or this story will be for naught: My mother is the kind of person who must stay busy. She’ll come over to visit and, by the time I come out of the bathroom, a load of laundry is in the washer and the living room is rearranged. Not that I mind! By all means, far be it for me to hinder whatever floats her boat, right? I read and drink coffee to relax, she cleans. So on the way back I’m all, “At least I’m returning to a clean house” because she’s had days, not hours! And I was right! The house looked gaw-geous!! The couch and entertainment center had switched places, I had new plants and clean clothes in the closet. I told her she needs to start a new career as a professional organizer. That woman could straighten up a hoard! Uh, not that I’m a hoarder…that’s not what I’m saying….

Anyhoo, she had it shining and smelling like a lemon-scented Taj Mahal! Now there’s a rule with my mother that I should have learned and remembered from last summer: Every nook and cranny will get cleaned and organized. Ergo, if you don’t want her seeing something, lock it up! So we’re back, everything’s cool…then my husband comes into the room and tosses a purple, silicon phallic toy—okay, damn! A dildo! He tosses my purple dildo on the bed. The one that has the little dolphin head and bill to tickle that special place? Yeah, that one. He tells me, “You forgot something.” Apparently my mother found it, thought it was my daughter’s and threw it in her toy box. My husband passed by her room to find her kneeling in front of the box, wagging it back and forth with a frown. She turned to look at him standing in the doorway and whined, “Daddy, I don’t get how this works.” Lord, take me now to that big upper room in the sky!!

I learned two things last week:

1. My mother must not be getting any because this makes two times that she’s come across sex toys and have no idea what she’s handling. First, the cock ring is a bracelet now the dildo is aa toy—literally.

2. I need to get rid of all my stash because obviously I am not old or responsible enough to clean my room and put my toys up!

I don’t know which was more eventful, the trip to Chicago or the what awaited me back home…

To Film or Not to Film…That is the Question

Recently, my son and I bonded. Quite by accident…well, that’s not exactly right. We bonded via  required reading, detention and a grounding.

Here’s the story. Every weekday when my son comes home from school I make him read and write a paragraph on it—or else I would have no proof that he actually read the book. Well, after I tired of reading twenty paragraphs on Ben-10 and Bakugan, I told him to read Harry Potter. After grumbling *cough! whining!* he grudgingly started reading The Sorcerer’s Stone. Not long afterward, he cut up at school and received detention. And after all the amenities were stripped from his room, all he had was the Harry Potter books! So the next time I asked him about the books, he’d finished The Sorcerer’s Stone, The Chamber of Secrets and was well into The Prisoner of Azkaban! And more importantly, was enjoying them!

Soon he and I are having conversations about the books. And to celebrate—after he received his TV viewing privileges back—we watched the Harry Potter movies. Which set off a new set of dialogue. He noticed right off the bat things that were in the books but not included in the movies. Or something that happened in the movie but wasn’t fully addressed like it’d been in the books. It was really awesome! Okay, so that may not seem like much, but when a mother can communicate in more than monosyllables with her twelve-year-old son…

And yet the whole bonding thing isn’t what this blog is about. It’s about what he discovered that I found out a long time ago: The book is almost always better than the movie. Although the Harry Potter people did do a great job. So did the Lord of the Rings folks. And—don’t tease me!—the Twilight people did, too!

I know it’s impossible to include everything from the books in the movies, but with some, all they have in common with the book is the title! It makes me kinda nervous when I hear that plans are in the works for novels I love. For instance, I heard that there may be films based on Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Dark Hunter series. Those novels are so wonderful, and I’ve had years to picture what they all look like—especially Acheron! *drool*—that I so desperately don’t want to be disappointed! Another series I would be nervous about seeing on the big screen is J.R. Ward’s The Black Dagger Brotherhood series. Now I don’t know if there are plans to film it but, in my humble opinion, it is one of the absolute best series to hit the shelves! Could the PTB pull the actors, create the special effects, atmosphere and emotion that make those novels so special and fantastic? I don’t know! I just don’t know…

Sometimes I want to rail *fist shake*, leave well enough alone! Aren’t some things sacred? But, on the other hand, I love to see my favorite characters come to life! I’m so wishy-washy…

So what books do you hope they bring to the silver screen? Or hope they leave alone? Do you agree with my picks?

You are the Bestest!

I am one of my harshest critics.

Forget my critique partners or editor taking the proverbial whip to my manuscript and making it bleed red, I’ve already done it about five times before they even get to it! Ooh! I could have used a stronger verb here…my plot has a saggier middle than me…my love scene makes me cry—and not because it was so satisfying…

Yup, I can really rake myself over the coals. But I’ve learned that while I’m so quick to prohibit myself from watching Being Human for not meeting my word count, I have to be just as swift to reward myself. Believe it or not, that was hard for me.

I’m the person who doesn’t impulse shop or treat herself to a new shirt. I’ll buy my husband a new gadget rather than spend $7.00 on a book for myself. Some may call that selfless, but it’s actually guilt. I have a guilt complex when it comes to spending just for me. Having kids only deepened the neurosis! Armchair psychiatrist here, but growing up, I watched my parents sacrifice for my sister and I when it came to private schools, clothes, extra curricular activities…they always put themselves last. My mother used to joke, “I haven’t bought a new pair of drawers in years!” TMI really, but as an adult I adopted that mentality. So, you understand why it has been a struggle for me to actually reward myself.

But I find that setting aside those little presents for obtaining a goal helps to motivate me. It’s not about buying things all the time or spending money. There are simple luxuries. As a writer, I don’t have nearly as much time to read as I’d like. So for reaching a word count goal, I get to indulge in Thea Harrison’s Serpent’s Kiss in her Elder Races series. Believe me! This is an awesome treat! For finishing a book, my husband cooks stuffed mushrooms and friend eggplant for me. For selling a book, my husband takes me out to our favorite restaurant, Carrabba’s.

Being hard on myself is not a negative thing because it helps me to constantly strive to better myself and never become complacent. But I also need positive reinforcement. It’s not selfish to baby or pamper myself. The same hand that slaps my forehead in “what the &^%^$# are you doing?” is the same hand that can pat myself on the back, say “well done” and pop a Symphony chocolate bar in my mouth. Actually, it feels—and tastes—much better!

Lordy, Lordy…

So recently I finished Nalini Singh’s new book, Lord of the Abyss. It’s Book 4 in the Royal House of Shadows trilogy for Harlequin Nocturne. Oh. My. Lamb. Is it breaking a commandment to have book envy? Thou shall not covet thou fellow author’s mad skill…

Let me tell you, Lord of the Abyss was an experience. In a nutshell—and we’re talking pistachio-size, here—the series revolves around the four siblings from the royal house of Elden, a mystical kingdom. The Blood Sorcerer conquered the kingdom, but the king and queen saved their children by scattering them to different places. Now the four heirs must return to the kingdom and restore it to a place of peace and prosperity before time runs out—literally. Nalini Singh’s novel tells the story of Micah, the youngest heir, and Liliana, the Blood Sorcerer’s daughter. How many elements did Nalini Singh touch on in this book? True beauty being on the inside. Adversity can breed strength.Nature vs. nurture. Love will always conquers evil. Spiders are STILL big-ass scary freaks of nature.

She is a natural, master storyteller. And that’s what drew me in. From the words, “When I…” she wove a tale that dragged me from the very depths of horror and pity and rocketed me to the heights of joy and triumph! I was taken for a ride. And in a good way! Which brings us back to my book envy. One of my father’s favorite author is Khalil Gibran—I’m going somewhere with this, I swear. Just bear with me. Daddy claims it’s because every word that Gibran uses is perfect and needed. It’s the same with Nalini Singh. Every word, every description, is perfect. Nothing is wasted and each is needed. She awes me!

Every writer should have another author that inspires them. An author. As individuals we all have people we admire and who motivate us. But as writers we should have someone who made us want to write in the first place. Who, after reading their books, make us say, that is the brilliance I’m aiming to obtain. I am not the same writer as Nalini Singh—we don’t write the same genre and our voices are different. But it is her ability to weave a magical spell of words that pulls emotion and dreams from her readers that I allows me to declare without shame, “Nalini, I’m not worthy!” But doggone it, one day, I will be!

What author stirred that creative seed in your soul? Who inspires you today? 

 

Misfits: Fairy Tales' Misunderstood

So lately I’ve been kind of preoccupied with fairy tales. It’s almost as if I’m writing a series on them with some really cool, sexy name like Fairy Tales Unleashed. Or something like that. As I was saying, I’ve been reading a lot of fairy tales lately. You have your old favorites. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. Beauty and the Beast. And then there are your lesser known tales. Brother and Sister. The Six Swans. The Bushy Bride. Seriously, I did not make that up. Reading these stories have brought back so many memories of my mother, sister and I sitting on the couch while she read The Boy Who Cried Wolf and Billy Goat Gruff to us. *sigh* Those were great times. Great stories. And some serious WTF moments. Listen, I know the great thing about fairy tales is the happily-ever-after but, man, some characters were stuck with really raw deals! I mean they were shafted! I know what you’re thinking. That’s crazy talk! Or get a grip! But follow me here for a moment…

The Six Swans. In this story the most obvious people wronged are the six brothers that were turned into swans by their evil stepmother. But the sister, who not only has to sew—sew?? For real??—six shirts for them is also struck mute and is unable to laugh for six years—the number of years she has to complete these shirts before the enchantment is permanent. Raw deal #1. Then a king sees her, is mesmerized by her beauty and marries her. All good, right? But no, another wicked stepmother steals all three babies she births and blames their disappearance on the sister/queen. Does king-y stand by his woman? Nooo. Instead she’s sentenced to burn at the stake. Shaft #2. Just as the match is ready to be set to kindle, the six swan brothers flock to her, she throws the shirts that she’s finally finished in the air and her brothers return to human. Yay! Except, here’s Shaft #3. She didn’t have time to finish the sleeve of the youngest brother’s shirt so he has to live life with one wing. *&^%$#!!!

Rumpelstiltskin. The princess was treated so wrong, right? Wrong! There was one character in this story crying out here. And that was Rumpelstiltskin! Rumpy—as we’re calling him because, hey, Rumpel-etc.-etc. is simply too much to type!—is used for his talents, lied to, cheated on and he’s the bad guy. Now the miller’s daughter is conscripted into doing the impossible—turning straw into gold—because of liar-dreams-of-grandeur father. She faced execution from the greedy king but Rumpy shows up and does the task for a small price. I mean really, what’s a ring and necklace compared to her life? Well when Rumpy requests her firstborn in exchange for the last ginormous pile of straw, the miller’s daughter agrees. I mean she never imagined the greedy-selfish-fill-my-coffers-with-gold-or-I’ll-decapitate-you king would offer his hand in marriage and she would actually have a baby. So of course that’s enough reason to renege! What did Rumpy do but hold up his end of the bargain? He didn’t throw his daughter to the wolves. The miller did that. He didn’t threaten an innocent woman with beheading over the idea of gold. No, the kind did that. And he didn’t go back on his word, not delivering on his end of the bargain. The queen did that. So what does Rumpy get for being a man of his word? One foot in hell. Literally. Now I know what you’re thinking. But he wanted her baby. Look, I have kids and let’s face it. After one week with the kid, he would’ve given it back!

Sleeping Beauty. Just purge the Disney version of this tale out of your mind. Sleeping Beauty had her happily-ever-after but she went through straight Not-Heaven before she got it! First because Queen Mom neglected to invite one pissed-off fairy, Sleeping Beauty ended up with a curse over her head that they didn’t tell her about! Forget the fact that due to mom’s mistake—drink more ginkgo, lady!—a lot of people lost their livelihood with the banishment of the spindle! If they had only told Sleeping Beauty about the curse she wouldn’t have went anywhere near that spinning wheel, not to mention the creepy old lady locked up in a room she knew nothing about! That’s sooo not a red flag. So she pricks her finger and falls into a coma-like sleep for one hundred years. One hundred years! Do you know how many balls, parties and fashions she missed in a century? So she awakens to a kiss from a prince with no gum in sight. Que music. They all lived happily-ever…*screech* Nope, that’s so not the end of this story. The prince secretly weds Sleeping Beauty and keeps her his little secret from his stepmother. In the meantime he continues to make booty calls and she has two children. Where do these princesses in these tales find these men? Well when his father kicks the bucket, he ascends to the throne—and surprise!—springs his ready-made family on the stepmother, who happens to be wicked (No! Didn’t see that coming!) and of ogress lineage. Talk about the mother-in-law from hell! Her husband leaves on some kingly duty and abandons his wife and children to the tender care of his stepmother. Tender as in tender meat, because that’s what she tries to turn them into. Succulent tender meat on her dinner table. Long story short, Sleeping Beauty has to face the voracious appetite of her Shrek-like mother-in-law, save her kids from becoming rack of lamb and elude a pit of vipers. King shows up just in time and stepmother ends up in her own viper pit. All this because Sleeping Beauty’s mother forgot a name…this whole thing could have been avoided if her mother had just made an invite list to that doggone christening!

Did I make a believer out of you yet? Do you see what I mean about raw deals? C'mon! Jump on my bandwagon!