Category Archives: IRWA

What’s in a name?

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That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet…

Today at Janet Reid’s blog, they’re talking about pseudonyms. The discussion was brought on by a particular case in which a man published poetry under a pseudonym that was deliberately chosen to sound Asian (the man is white). Sherman Alexie, one of my faves, writes about the situation here, in case you’re interested in more info.

So, the commentariat at Janet’s place are now discussing the issue, but from the perspective of writers seeking representation: should you use a pseudonym? If so, should you tell your agent?

I was planning, actually, on setting this blog up and writing under the name M.P. Larkin. Much like J.K. Rowling, L.M. Montgomer, L.J. Smith, and, yes, okay, fine, E.L. James, I was going to do the lady-using-two-initials-to-maybe-pass-as-not-a-lady-but-maintaining-plausible-deniability thing. Recently one of the writers at Jezebel realized this might still be helpful in getting published, just like the Brontë sisters had do to… Continue reading What’s in a name?

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Romance (and Prejudice)

One of the tips that Bob Mayer gave at Write on the River when I attended was to join your local chapter of the Romance Writers of America, no matter what your genre.

Well.

Well.

Can I just tell you a little bit about how English Majors like myself are taught to think about romance novels???

darcy
No, see, Austen doesn’t count. Because she’s different. Because we SAID SO, okay?!?!?!

Continue reading Romance (and Prejudice)

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The Notebook*

*No, not that Nicholas Sparks novel. Or the movie version.

When I attended Bob Mayer’s Write on the River last spring, I took a lot of notes. In a notebook that I had grabbed at random on the way out of my classroom. Because I was driving from school to Tennessee while seven months pregnant. Because I am a genius.

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Me, appx. 12 hours before I drove to Tennessee and learned that 5.5 hours is too long to drive in one stretch if you are seven months pregnant.

Anyway, if you’re impressed by how ill-prepared I was then (at least I remembered clothes? I did forget a toothbrush, but Bob gave me one.), guess what happened next? Continue reading The Notebook*

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