What’s Your Current Position?

At Romaniac HQ, we often find ourselves in awkward positions. It’s tricky keeping one’s modesty with nine people occupying the same living space. Sue was in the kitchen with a good-looking Texan last year. The explanation, ‘We were cooking’, did nothing to settle our nerves.

We’d like to know where you are and what you’re doing with your hero or heroine, right this moment, and then, we want you to divulge your most favourite position with them.

We’ll get the ball rolling, for want of a better phrase.

Laura : In Follow Me, I’m in a wooded english garden, overlooking Chesil Beach, with a Hollywood Action Hero sprawled at my feet, on the veiny ground. And my favourite position? In bed, with a thoughtful, gentle and humorous Irishman, at The Smugglers Inn, in Truth or Dare?

Sue : Well, I’ve managed to extract myself from the kitchen and now find myself on Felpham Beach in West Sussex, skimming stones with Donovan, a criminal psychologist.

My most favourite position? An autumn evening, sat on the beach, snuggled under a blanket with said criminal psychologist; wind blowing, waves crashing and moonlight dancing on the whites of the waves.

Debbie: Well, I’m hard at work on my WIP for the NWS with ‘James Hardaker.’ We’re in the emerald green hills of the Yorkshire Dales, one of my favourite parts of the world (and where I was brought up.) Spring-time in Berrywood means my vetinary hero is currently zipping around the country lanes tending ewes who are having a hard time lambing!

By co-incidence I’m visiting the Dales next week for a little more inspiration. It is sooo beautiful in that part of the world.

As for my favourite position, well, that has to be in front of the log burner! Either on the rug or sofa…

Catherine: I’m never doing it again. Oh, sorry. May have got the wrong gist. My latest heroine is struggling with the idea she might have fertility issues and will end up with her legs up in stirrups as a result. Not quite what you were hoping for with this post. So I’ll go back to a creek in Kuringai Chase National Park. An isolated spot outside of Sydney, Australia where my hero and heroine meet in Miles Between Us.

Celia: In Little Boxes, I’m on a very special bench at a country park by a beautiful lake in Peterborough with a man who can’t commit to a passionate relationship…yet. The weather is chilly but the temperature between the lead players is set to sizzle. And my favourite position – horizontal in a Travelodge.

Jan: I’m standing, mesmerized, rooted to the spot halfway down a red-carpeted sweeping staircase in a glorious York manor house, staring into the eyes of a tanned, athletic Yorkshireman. And my favourite position? Lying face down on a massage table, mentally reliving every delightful second of it…

I can recommend all of these positions

Now it’s over to you…where, how and who?

Laura xx

The ‘Bring A Dish’ Party

Here at Romaniac HQ we have not one, not two but three March birthdays! Has there ever been a better excuse to throw a party?

The Birthday Trio – Laura, Sue, & Catherine

Now parties don’t normally come with rules apart from when they do. To join the party you have to bring something with you, as the title suggests. As host of this party, I need you to bring FOOD, lovely imaginary FOOD! If you are anything like me your social media will be filled with people on the 5:2 diet, so if that’s you, imaginary food will be just what you need. As for me, I’m on the eating for three diet. This involves expanding your waistline massively whilst adhering to a list of forbidden foods. No alcohol, no goat’s cheese, no soft boiled eggs – the list goes on.

So here is the deal: please come along and celebrate our birthdays with a bottle or dish in hand. Perhaps share a recipe with forbidden ingredients so I can drool and dream of the day when I can once again eat such delights. Or if you’ve given up something for Lent, bring the dish you plan to eat at the end of the 40 days. Or if you are on a diet then bring something highly calorific. There is one other option. Of course ‘a dish’ could be interpreted as a handsome date so feel free to bring one of those with you.

Here is my contribution. I discovered its total awesomeness yesterday. It’s called a Cherpumple. What’s that you wonder? It’s three pies baked in three cakes to make one big cake! If you want to know how to make one and to see it in all its glory, head here: http://vittlemonster.com/2011/09/07/how-to-make-a-cherpumple-successfully/ Go looksie. Your life will be better for it… promise.

Catherine x

Now let’s see what the other Romaniacs are bringing to tempt you to the party…

Laura: Excuse me whilst I reinsert my eyes – they popped out at the sight of the pie cake. MAGNIFICENT!

I like salty nuts. Especially the jumbo ones. I’ll supply some rather expensive macadamia and cashews, to go with a bucket of buttered popcorn.

Mmm. Salted, buttered popcorn.

Ooo – I just thought of maple brazils, which are quite possibly the sweetest thing my tongue has ever experienced. Who wouldn’t enjoy the sensation of the golden fondant melting in the mouth, exposing the firm body of a naked brazil?

And I could be talked into supplying Baileys.

And a hot tub filled with Maltesers.

Which I might bathe in with Johnny Depp.

Jan: Red, White or Rose? Oh, what the hell! I’ll bring all three (in abundance) with, hmmm… let me think…ooh, I know… a CHOCOLATE platter. Oh, yes! Milk, Dark, White, Nutty, Fruity, Rum-laden, Honeycomb, Minty, Orangey… Shall I go on? And to help me stagger along under the weight of this delectable choccie delight? Well, if Mr Penry Jones is free and in the party spirit, he can come along for a nibble

This is a picture of a Romaniac fridge – get the idea?

Celia: Well, obviously I’ll be bringing cake – the one in the picture isn’t for the girls, none of them are 90 yet…or so they say…anyway, there will be a splendid birthday cake oozing with fruit and all things sticky, with marzipan and icing on top and all their names in a row. I will also throw in some stilton and home made oatcakes, a couple of jars of anchovy stuffed olives and a magnum of champagne (plus some apple juice for Catherine). And Roger Daltrey. He’s for me, not for the birthday girls. Just saying.

Sue : Well I would have to bring cup cakes. I know Celia has done a lovely birthday cake, but I’d bring the cup cakes for the party bags at the end. I’d also bring party hats, party poppers and balloons – if anyone could invent some edible ones that would be fantastic.

Vanessa: Okay – so we’re covered for cakes and chocolate (not covered in cake and chocolate, that’s a whole different party…) and Jan’s bringing the wine… So I think I’ll contribute the CHAMPAGNE! At least a dozen bottles as we have so much to celebrate this year – birthdays and Romaniac twins and book deals and competition wins… And maybe something substantial to soak up the alcohol and balance out all the sugar – fish and chips for all!

Debbie: Oh, I do love a good party. Happy birthday to my friends in advance. It’s lovely to have something to celebrate!

I shall be doing what we Romaniacs do best – drinking wine and eating cake! And I’m afraid, with regards to bringing something to the party, it’s more cake from me. As well as being the Queen of wine; red, white, rose (I don’t care as long as it isn’t German or a Chardonnay,) I’m also domestic Goddess in the Lemon Drizzle Cake department. I have a recipe if you’d like it?

As for a date; I don’t need a man! Cake, wine and my Romaniac buddies…what more could a girl ask for?

Notebook Confessional

This is a confession of infidelity.

I have two shelves full of notebooks – and none of them are full. Some of them are completely empty. Yet I can’t walk past a stationery shop without looking for more … always seeking the elusive perfect notebook; The One that will end up containing the perfect stories, as if the notebook itself can produce words.

Each time I buy one, I think this is The One, the one I’ll love forever, the one I’ll keep writing in until the bitter end… but something always goes wrong. We fall out of love and before I know it, I’m back in Paperchase, flirting with a shiny new one.

It’s always been a problem – in school, I’d start every term in love with my beautiful exercise books, all covered in wrapping paper, or carefully decorated with cuttings from magazines … then someone would sit next to me with their books covered in something prettier, sparklier and mine would look dull in comparison, and I’d spend the rest of the term coveting the books next to me.

This year, I’m trying to stay faithful to one notebook at a time – well, maybe two; one small one for small bags and a bigger one for big bags. And maybe one for my desk at work and one for my desk at home. I wouldn’t want to get caught short when THE idea strikes, would I?

Now it’s time for my other Romaniacs to ‘fess up – are you one notebook women, faithful to the end? Or are you spending half your income each week on lovely notebooks and pens and paper and folders and more notebooks and… mmmm….

Vanessa x

Laura: I have a secret stash. I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours. Need a quick fix? Whatever colour, whatever size you want, I’ve got it. Clean, fresh, virginal pages, lying between exotic covers, waiting to be inked on. I have several on the go at once, but all for different reasons. I fill them to my satisfaction, home them, and then delight in the thrill of starting something new.

Celia: I was going to say that I’m not much of a one for notebooks but then I looked in my desk drawers! The one I use most is the fabulous big gold and dark green one that lives on a shelf right next to the desk. It was a present from my daughters, and last May I started writing down competition entries or anything writing-related that I was doing or had achieved. It’s such a pleasure writing in this book  with my Christmas pen – thick cream pages, decorated edges and clasps to keep it shut. The smaller green and gold one is my diet diary and it doesn’t have much in it. Sadly, this is not because I don’t eat much but because I’m  usually too busy eating and drinking to write in it. 

Catherine: I’ve never really had to buy notebooks because since I was young my family and friends have brought them for me. My problem lies with not being able to get rid of any of them. When you’ve spent your life jotting in notepads, when you look through them you think there’s gold in that there notepad. And that one. And that one. Shame I’ve never found time to go through them all. 

[Stands up and takes deep breath] Hello, my name is Sue and I’m a notebook junky – [smiles at the nods, hellos and encouraging clapping from others in the group] I’ve been addicted to notebooks for many, many years. I can’t get enough of them. Any shape, size, colour, I love them all. Sometimes, I go into stationery shops to admire them, to stroke them, to hold them in my hands, to flick through the untouched virgin paper, to breathe in the smell of newness. The urge to claim it as mine and hand over the last pennies in my purse can be overwhelming. Oh God, just talking about it and words like Paperchase, WH Smith, Waterstones race through my mind. [rushes out of meeting to stroke current favourite]

 Jan: I confess I’d be sitting right beside Sue at that ‘notebook junky’ group. Mr B often tuts and rolls his eyes when I veer off to purr at the stationery when out shopping. I dread to think how many notebooks share our flat with us; big ones, tiny ones, bright ones, patterned ones, you name it… If we Romaniacs lined them all up side by side, I reckon we could fill the floor here at HQ.  Our very own notebook carpet. There’s a thought…

Debbie: I give up with notepads. Like the others, I have piles of them but interestingly the only ones I use are of the ‘value’ or ‘homebrand’ variety. Following an Arvon writing course I did invest in a couple of moleskin ones which come out if I’m attending a writing course or any RNA events but otherwise, the trouble I seem to have with notebooks is that most of them are gifted ones and far too beautiful to write in!

About five years ago, a friend gave me a beautiful silk notebook. The cover is a rich, reddish-brown, almost the colour of polished copper, with a ‘framed’ panel of sinuous, vertical meandering flowers and acanthus leaves embossed in the middle of the front outer cover. And for the five years since acquiring it, it has lived on top of my piano alongside my metronome. It stays there, gathering dust, each parchment page as virginal and empty as when it was hand bound.  It wasn’t until a conversation with a friend, that I realised why…

Apparently, her sister has a gift for writing poetry and in an attempt to encourage and inspire ‘F’ bought her a luxurious notebook for her ideas and notes. After a few weeks, she discovered her sister hadn’t used it and when asked, her sister told her it was because it was “too lovely to write in…” Following lengthy discussions with her sibling and others, F concluded that her sister didn’t feel she was ‘worthy’ of the notebook. It was as if somehow, it was ‘too good’ and too beautiful for her to write in; that her writing did not measure up to the paper.

I smiled at my friends conclusion. It struck a chord. Perhaps it’s a trait of the ‘wannabe’ writer who hasn’t quite made it that I feel ‘unworthy?’ but I could see some truth in her words. And I still struggle to ruin a perfect blank page or beautiful silk cover with my scribbled musings. So for now my collection of notebooks sit forlornly in my study and look beautiful, gathering dust, until one day…

Lucie: I think it comes with the job! I don’t think any writer would be without at least one trusty notebook – or several hundred in Sue’s case – to jot down their musings. I have a few notebooks. Mainly I have a purple one that goes in my bag for when I am out and about, one on my desk which isn’t as pretty and a few stored in my desk that are all half written in. I don’t think I’ve ever filled a notebook. I’ve always been teased away by another before getting quite to the end. I do find it hard to go into places like WHSmith, Paperchase and Staples and not be drawn straight to the stationery section. 

Come to think of it, I think I’m due a new one…..

Birthday Celebrations – The Romaniacs are one year old!

Happy birthday to us, Happy birthday to us, Happy birthday Dear Romaniacs, Happy birthday to us!

Ok, Ok, so I’m two days early. But who says we can’t start the celebrations a little early. Here at Romaniac HQ, we’ve been celebrating all weekend and we plan for it to continue all week, too. So why not come and join us for a celebratory glass of champers and a slice of cake and let’s get this party started!

A year ago, on February 13th 2012, we launched our blog to the writing world. When we decided to do this, we had no idea how we would be perceived. Would people like us? Would people bother to read what we have to say?

Would people think we’re nuts?

But the response has been truly amazing. People did like us. People were logging in and reading and sharing our posts. And most importantly people do realise that yes, we are a bit nuts! But that’s OK, because we never claimed to be anything but.

The sheer amount of support and encouragement we have received, both as a group and individuals, over the last year has surpassed anything we ever could have imagined. We always knew that the writing industry was a supportive, positive community, but I don’t think anything could have prepared us for what lay ahead.

So in the spirit of birthday celebrations, we got talking about some of our favourite – and worst – celebrations growing up. They weren’t all necessarily birthday celebrations and some needed censoring so much, we felt best to keep those in the archive folders!

However, I’ll start the ball rolling. My worst birthday party memory wasn’t actually for mine, but for my older sisters. There is five years between us and I was but a nipper at the time and she had all her friends over for a party. In our garden we had a huge shed – we lived in a flat and it was the communal shed so you can imagine how big it was – and she and her friends were playing chase. I wanted to play. I ventured into the garden and saw them all running rings around said shed. Stupidly, to catch up, I ran around the shed but in the OPPOSITE direction to around 15 children. You can see how this story ends, can’t you? Yep, I spent the rest of the party upstairs, on the sofa with a bruised and battered face. It wasn’t a good party for me.

On the flip side, my best party – so far I hasten to add, I’m planning on having many more! – was for my 21st. It wasn’t a big ‘do’ but I had only just had my daughter and I had been dieting and training for months and months in preparation for my 21st and I lost 2 stone and got into the size 8 dress I had bought. I felt great. Some of mine and my husband’s friends came back to our house after the club shut (mine and my husband’s birthdays are 3 days apart so we always have joint celebrations) and we carried on partying until the morning. It was a brilliant night.

We would love to hear your best and worst party experiences. I’ll leave you with some messages from the girls about theirs. Here’s to another fantastic year. Cheers!

Lucie x

Celia: Crikey, Lucie; you’ve said it all! Huge thanks to everyone who has visited our blog over the last year and given us your witty, supportive comments. Now, parties…

My worst one has got to be a Halloween do when I was about nine. I was a Brownie at the time, and we were all invited to our Sixer’s birthday. I only had a hazy idea about Halloween up to that point – I knew witches came into it somewhere, but as the world’s wimpiest child, I had never got up to speed on how people celebrated it. The mum in charge of the party had some great ideas. She had blacked out an entire room and hung it with fake cobwebs, rattling bones etc, there was an atmospheric ghostly soundtrack and we were blindfolded and led through one at a time, touching and listening to various things which got scarier and scarier. The finale was having our hand plunged into a bowl of sheep’s eyeballs. I’ve never felt the same about a peeled grape since that day.

The best wasn’t a birthday, it was my second wedding in 2008 (I’ve only had the two, in case that makes me sound like a female Bluebeard.). We decided to just have the best bits of a wedding, i.e.massive amounts of home-made cake, no speeches, no official photo session where the guests are starving and everyone loses the will to live, a small, warm venue so it would be cosy (it was a frosty night on December 29th) the most delicious food we could order and a late afternoon wedding so we could go straight into the serious eating and champagne quaffing. It was magical. I think I might have been quite, quite drunk.

Vanessa: Well, my best is easy – on my 29^h birthday, Tim, my boyfriend at the time, took me to Cornwall for the weekend. We tried to stay in a beautiful old pub in Mousehole, right on the quay, with beams and a roaring fire … but it was full, so we ended up in an odd B&B that smelled of kippers. We tried to have dinner at one of the quay front pubs or restaurants but they were all full, so we ended up eating fish in a strange bright blue sauce at a cold restaurant where we were the only customers. Then, as we walked along the seafront, Tim proposed and it became the best birthday ever – kippers, blue sauce and all.

The worst is more difficult… because I love birthdays, always have. I always take the day off work and have a totally indulgent day. I think my worst birthday was my saddest – the last I got to celebrate with my best friend Suzanne. She’d been ill for a long time, but I’d been in denial, waiting for a miracle cure. That night was the night I finally accepted the truth and the last time we got to go out before she died.

Sue : I’ve never in my life had a birthday party … cue violins and sad music Never had a party as a child and never as an adult but that’s okay, as to be honest, I wouldn’t find being the centre of attention any fun at all. I much prefer going to other people’s parties, so much more relaxing and enjoyable. I’ve had quite a few family birthdays this year and they all have been great fun.

On the flip side, I have been to a few which haven’t been quite so successful. My friend’s 21st springs immediately to mind. All had been going well until late into the evening, after much drinking and merriment, my brother (Nick) and I hit the dance floor – that was our first mistake. The second came quite quickly after the first, Nick and I decided we could jive and were doing reasonably well, holding hands we were swinging each other backwards and forwards across in a kind of jive/barn dance sort of way. Mistake number 3 was the speed at which we attempted this with rather sweaty hands. I guess I must have been stronger than I thought. Sensing Nick was waning, I gave a particularly sudden and fast yank on his hand which, together with increased momentum, sent him whizzing past me in a blur of legs and arms, Frank Spencer style. I could only watch in horror as he went crashing into the disco lights; the scene reminiscent of a Jean Michel Jarre light and laser display.  It was certainly a party to remember, probably for all the wrong reasons.

Jan: I’ve been to many great parties over the years but one that evokes such fond memories for me is the surprise party my sisters and I organised (along with several much appreciated volunteers) as part of Mum and Dad’s 30th wedding anniversary celebrations. My younger sister and I were still living at home which, of course, made things a lot easier to manage. On the big night, my older sister and her husband, acting as decoys, took them out for a meal. As soon as their car rounded the corner of our road, me, sis and various friends & neighbours swung into action, fetching and carrying all the booze which had been stashed in a neighbour’s garage, blowing up balloons, wheeling in the cake and making sandwiches. Our aunty Heather was on bread buttering duty whilst the rest of us washed, sliced and diced all the fillers. We had to make sure the steady stream of guests arriving had parked out of sight so Mum’s eagle eye didn’t spot any familiar cars on their return. It really was like the proverbial military operation and a great success. It still makes us laugh remembering Mum’s utter disbelief at not cottoning on to our scheming.

As for the worst party, well a front-runner would have to be one I attended with a friend in my late teens. The phrase ‘One man and his Dog’ sprung to mind as we walked into the venue, there were so few guests. Add to that, strip lighting, warm wine, a Tarzan -o-gram for the host and the DJ’s decks blowing up halfway through the evening, and you get the picture. Cue stampede (or should I say, trickle) to the pub round the corner!

Laura: My tale is simple and short. My most and least favourite celebration was my last birthday, March 2012. Everything at home was perfect. I received surprise gifts, which were truly wonderful, cards and messages from many friends, and short-list notification of the first Choc Lit short story competition. Ahead was the prospect of a great summer, out and about with my family, including my mother who, the day before, had endured a difficult, but at that point, successful operation.
Why the mixed feelings? It was the last birthday I shared with my lovely mum.

Catherine: Worst? Well, you did ask. It was the winter of 2002. I was 21 and about to enjoy my first Physiotherapy Department Christmas Party. The day before I’d completed a junior rotation in care of the elderly and I was ready to let my hair down. Dinner started with a lovely Minestrone Soup. Only it didn’t seem so lovely. In fact, I was feeling decidedly queasy. It didn’t take me long to realise why I was feeling so ill. No, it wasn’t the soup. It was the dreaded norovirus. A nice leaving gift from my rotation. I was chucking up before the main course arrived and managed to get safely home before performing the party trick that involves a toilet and a bowl. So not the evening I’d had in mind.

The best? I’m going to be greedy and pick 3! My Nan and Grandad’s Ruby, Golden and Diamond anniversary parties. I was 8 at the first party. It was in a church hall with lots of family and friends and I got roped in waitressing duties with my cousins. I remember talking about the next party when I’d be 18 and being very excited about it. And before you know it, you’re 18 and at the next party!

The Way We Were…

This week, more Romaniacs take a trip down Memory Lane, thinking of the influences and experiences that have shaped us and remembering The Way We Were…

We would love to know where your writing aspirations began and what your memories of that time are.

Vanessa: I grew up in a small village on the edge of nowhere – no library, no bookshop, no cafes. It was pre-Amazon, pre-Sky TV, pre-mobile phones. When I was younger, I was out all the time – off on my bike for hours, building dens, climbing trees. Home for Corona pop and Blue Peter on TV. Idyllic when you’re nine. Heading for teenage years, however, where and when I was growing up became more limiting. Entertainment for teenagers was non-existent – you either hung around in bus shelters, brushing up on your biology skills or stayed at home, waiting to be eighteen.

I stayed at home – I never was any good at science. Stayed at home in my legwarmers and batwing sleeve jumpers knitted by my nan, trying to learn all the words to Karma Chameleon and how to walk in stiletto heels. In 2013, as I face my first year without either of my parents, I have to thank them for setting me on the path to becoming a writer – by bringing me up in a house full of books. In those long teenage years, waiting for grown-up life to begin, I was such a voracious reader, I read anything and everything in that house – my dad’s Alistair MacLeans and Stephen Kings, my mum’s Danielle Steeles and Catherine Cookson – I’d even be queuing up on a Thursday to read my brother’s 2000AD after he’d finished.

On long, rainy Saturday afternoons, when nothing was on TV but horse racing or darts, I’d lose myself in a book, and when I really couldn’t face reading Tilly Trotter or Ice Station Zebra for the fiftieth time, I got out my exercise books, the ones covered in anaglypta wallpaper and painted, and wrote my own stories. Terrible ones, really really terrible – can you imagine the stories written by a teenager, influenced by Catherine Cookson AND Alistair MacLean?? But I’d discovered the thrill of writing, of inventing and controlling my own worlds. Rainy afternoons when there’s nothing on the telly have never been boring since.

Catherine: I can’t be the only one who spent their childhood with her head in the clouds and can’t remember half of it? The things I do remember: days on the beach (10 minute walk away), camping with the brownies and guides (nan was Brown Owl and mum was the guide leader so I joined up very early), spending time at Nan and Grandad’s with the tent up in the back garden with mini sandwiches and ice cream soda. It’s possible I grew up in an Enid Blyton book, but then I’m highlighting the good bits.

Like the other girls, I developed a love of reading. I was given special teaching because of my dyslexia and my homework involved lots of reading aloud to my relatives. I loved it and by aged 7 I’d developed the reading ability of an 11 year old. Nancy Drew was by far my favourite.

Lucie: I was one of the late starters when it came to writing and reading. Sometimes I feel a bit of a fraud when I hear others say that their whole childhood from an incredibly young age, was reading and writing and making up stories. It wasn’t the same for me. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy reading and I often penned a few tales down, but nothing really seriously. Not until I got into secondary school did it occur to me how much I loved reading and writing. I still briefly remember a story I wrote in year 9 – it was awful, looking back, but it really kick started my writing skills, I think. It was about a girl who was at a house and someone had broken in and she had to get away. It was typically dark and in the middle of nowhere so it involved lots of running and falling over and trying to escape… See, I told you, not very good! But it was a start.

I didn’t have lots of books growing up. My family wasn’t very well off so money went on things like clothes, uniform and food. But I did manage to collect the ‘Goosebumps’ series and I inherited the ‘Point Horror’ series from my sister, which I loved to read. And In my early teens, I read ‘Earth Abides’ by George R Stewart and absolutely loved it! I really want to read it again soon – It can go on the huge TBR pile….

Now, you will notice a weird pattern here; Goosebumps books, Point Horror and my year 9 story of escaping a psycho. Yet I now write romance? For me, I loved to write. I didn’t have a clue as to what genre’s were, or which I wanted to write within, I just liked writing. The more I began to write, the more I broadened my horizons when It came to reading and that’s when I discovered romance novels. So truthfully, I was not a serious writer until I hit 20. Which is why I sometimes feel a fraud. But I can assure you that just because my passion came later, it is still very much running through my veins and is what makes me who I am today.

Those Were The Days My Friend

‘I thought they’d never end’, (Mary Hopkin)

Once the new year celebrations were finished and we had all regrouped at Romaniac HQ, we found ourselves reflecting over the past 12 months, taking stock of how far we had come and how far we still had to go with our writing careers. Naturally, the conversation turned to how it all began. Not surprisingly, our love affair with writing began at an early age for us all and we took a trip down Memory Lane, thinking of the influences and experiences that have shaped us. We thought we would share our nostalgia with you.

We would, of course, love to know where your writing aspirations began and what your memories of that time are.

Laura: The late seventies and early eighties are the years I remember well. I loved music, and I became aware of the world around me. 1979 was the year of the UK’s first female Prime Minister, in Margaret Thatcher - that was a big deal, especially for women. We lived under the threat of nuclear war, there were bombings in Nothern Ireland, Sid Vicious was found dead from a heroin overdose, and China introduced their One Child Policy. As a twelve-year-old, I worried about how the world would survive. I yearned for the power to put everything right. I was going to be a doctor, or a child psychologist. Maybe a speech therapist – something that helped. Failing that, I’d entertain – become a singer. I realised songs were miniature stories and became fascinated with rhymes, patterns and words. I loved reading, but looking back, my love for writing began through songs.

The world changed during my formative years. Whether or not one agreed with Thatcher’s policies, women had a positive role model. I loved Blake’s 7, a Sci-Fi programme with a strong female character in Cally, Gloria Gaynor was belting out I Will Survive, and my mother, bless her, by this point in my life, was a single parent, who had successfully secured a mortgage in her name alone. Not easy. Is it possible these childhood factors led me to writing issue-driven romances, with strong female characters? By producing stories, my desire to entertain is fulfilled, my love for words is put to work, and I create my own worlds where ultimately, everything will be all right.

I’m beginning to think it was inevitable I would become a writer.

1983

Sue: Being roughly the same age as Laura, I can identify with all the things she mentions above. The early 80′s saw me knocking on the door of my teenage years when I was living in a rural village and had a very free rein on what I did with my time. All the local kids used to hang around together, but to be fair, that didn’t actually amount to many – put it this way, in my year at school there were only three girls and six boys. I look back on those days with fondness as age didn’t really come into it and we all mucked in together. Sometimes we’d have a big game of football or cricket, other times we would swim/paddle in the river or generally hang out, usually at the bridge. I’m not sure what the attraction of the bridge was, but we spent an awful lot of time just congregating there. Having said that, living in a small rural community did mean it often had its dull moments and my answer to the boredom was to take myself off somewhere far more exciting via a good book, courtesy of the mobile library which visited us once a fortnight.

Me with my eldest brother circa 1973.

With regards to the larger world outside of this Cambridgeshire village, I have very clear memories of things like Shopper bikes for girls, Chopper bikes for the boys, Bermuda shorts, Haircut 100, Dexy’s Midnight Runners, Ultravox, Grange Hill, Crackerjack (‘It’s five to five and it’s Crackerjack!’), Why Don’t You, using a cassette player to try to record the Top 40 on a Sunday evening, deciding I’d give up on my dream of marrying Nick Skelton and set my sights on Adam Ant instead. It was around about this time I received a Silver Reed typewriter for Christmas and began typing up my stories; making them into books; illustrating them and designing the cover. Today, I am still trying to do pretty much the same thing (although the Adam Ant dream has gone the same way as the Nick Skelton one).

Jan: The late seventies evoke such fond memories for me too. We had lots of children living down our road and a great crew of us would play in the street (not nearly so many cars to worry about then!) racing each other up the road when we heard the tinkle of the ice cream van. We had a huge street party for the Queen’s silver jubilee celebrations with long trestle tables groaning under the weight of food and fizz. One of the neighbours set up some speakers in their hallway and played DJ for the duration, blaring out the likes of Abba and Stevie Wonder. I can remember our milkman and postman turning up, flares swishing, and hardly recognising the pair of them out of uniform. They were doing the rounds; such was the camaraderie amongst everyone in the area.

This is me in the early seventies, clearly deciding I wanted to try on my cousin’s Cub cap & tie!

I always took an interest in anything creative at school, from writing stories and poetry, to singing in school choirs and auditioning for Christmas and end of term plays. I can see my Dad now, three rows back, big cheesy grin on his face, trying to make my best friend (a notorious giggler) and I laugh, Mum nudging his elbow and giving him “the look”. Ever since those days, I’ve loved writing in all its forms, so to now be working on my debut novel really is one of my dreams come true.

Celia: Well, I’m a little bit…ok, quite a lot…older than the other Romaniacs, so my teenage and pre teen memories go back to the earlier seventies. By the time the redoubtable Mrs T was in her element and nuclear war was threatening, I was a young mum, panic stricken at the world I’d brought my daughters into but not really quite ready to be sensible. On a more cheerful note, I remember oodles of Motown (still can’t help dancing to ‘Needle in a Haystack’, in fact I brought the New Year in to it), lusting after Roger Daltrey, The Osmonds – all of them, I wasn’t a fussy teenager – and David Bowie. I was sure David, Marc Bolan, Freddie Mercury and Elton John were straight, and I’m still not convinced otherwise, so don’t try to mess with my dreams, ok? My favourite songs, as with Laura, inspired my writing, in fact my first book had song words at the start of every chapter. They took me ages to choose. Shame the book itself was so awful, really.

The past year has been a roller coaster ride for me. The downs were a very long way down but the highs were incredible, and I am so grateful to the Romaniacs for being there with me. Group hug? Left over mince pie anyone?

Debbie; Ahhh, the seventies. What lovely memories my fellow Romaniacs have evoked. It was a happy, carefree time for me as it was for many children back then, (other than bread strikes and having to queue at the stand pipes for water.)

I remember long hot summers, days that never ended, going off on my Raleigh Shopper bike (I had one Sue) with my ‘cozzie’ rolled up in a towel alongside some limp sandwiches in the front basket to the local park where there was a paddling pool. The rest of the time I’d be in the back garden, playing in my Wendy house, making ‘perfume’ from rose petals and lavender crushed in a couple of coconut shells with water added until it became a putrid mush. I also remember spending hours alone in my bedroom with my dolls and teddies playing teachers, being a Librarian, or pretending to do book signings. It’s strange now, looking back how I even comprehended that writers wrote and signed books at that age, but I remember it clearly. All my solitary activities revolved around books. As well as the pretend ‘classroom,’ the library and book signing, I spent hours in the bedroom simply reading and sometimes writing my own little stories.

It was, as they say, written in the stars, that I might pursue a career in writing…

Highlights and Highlighters.

We, at Romaniac HQ, have had a busy year, baking cakes and not cleaning the office. In fact, we would go as far as to say it has been quite extraordinary.

The blog kicked off in February and has maintained a steady readership, for which we thank you, and we have been privileged to have met many of you throughout the year. We would like to take this opportunity to wish you a very Happy 2013.

Here are our highlights. We would love to hear about yours.

Laura: The official formation of The Romaniacs is right up there. Bonkers.

Pens and notebooks for Christmas rate quite highly, too.

Attending conferences and writing courses also feature at the top of my tree; Penrith, pitching and kitchen parties – perfect. Tremendous fun was had at the Festival of Romance too – I’ll leave our Celia to tell you about that, and the RNA parties provided great opportunities to say hello to friends in real life. As modest as I would like to appear, I cannot deny I loved achieving two runner-up positions in Choc Lit’s Short Story competitions, and grinned for weeks when six Romaniacs were shortlisted for the FoR New Talent Award. I’ve experienced the thrill of submitting my manuscript to publishers, been fortunate to be in a position to absorb as much information as humanly possible from experienced writers/tutors, and been touched by the unwavering kindness of my fellow writers. Without a doubt, the crowning glory on my tree, is the incredible friendships formed throughout this challenging year. You are all stars, and I love seeing you shine. Glow brightly in 2013.

Celia: I have felt as if I have a huge, all-enveloping Romaniac comfort blanket this year. We have all been through some very emotional times over the last few months – the sort of things that could easily stop you writing for good. But because of the girls’ support, and the fun we’ve had with all of you who regularly visit our blog and join in the banter, nothing has seemed quite so bad. My personal writing highlight was the moment when, with a huge mouthful of bread and planning my next drink, I heard my name called for the Piatkus Entice award for a contract. I’m now in the middle of edits (steep learning curve) and feel like a proper grown up. Sort of.

It still amazes me that so many people take the time to drop by our blog and eat a virtual cake/biscuit or have a rummage in the Romaniac cocktail cabinet. Love to you all, and I wish you a healthy, happy and truly fabulous 2013.

Jan: The day I became a member of The Romaniacs was a massive highlight for me. I don’t have my own blog so it was a definite leap out of my comfort zone. I can remember my feelings of trepidation at writing my first individual blog post, worrying how it would be received, whether I’d let the side down, etc, and then the huge feeling of elation upon actually publishing it. The support, friendship and encouragement I’ve received from all the girls and, indeed, from all my other fabulous writing and non-writing buddies this year has been tremendous. The RNA summer and winter parties, plus the local chapter meetings I’ve attended in London have been fun too – it’s so lovely to meet up for a good old chat about our writing achievements and aspirations. The advice is always fab and the banter superb.

It’s also been great seeing so many of my writing buddies either successfully self-publish their novels, or obtain contracts. I’m thrilled to bits for each and every one of them. It’s certainly spurred me on to finally finish my work in progress, that’s for sure. Another personal highlight for me this year would have to be dipping my toe into the world of proofreading. Do you know, I’m really looking forward to 2013. Here’s hoping it does you all proud too x

Catherine: My highlight has to be the RNA conference. Not only did I learn lots, I laughed harder than I have all year. It was like tonic. My goal for this year is to concentrate more on writing and finish writing Baby Number Two.

Lucie: My highlight of 2012, writing wise, was definitely the RNA Conference in Penrith. What an amazing time I had and I learnt SO much – don’t drink home brewed wine without preparing your stomach first, don’t stay up too late if you have workshops the next day, don’t do an impression of the gruffalo with Wotsits when there are cameras around….. Oh, I also learnt a lot about writing too!
Another highlight for me, was getting my first piece of writing published, in the form of an article for Romance Matters. It was only a small piece, but I will always remember it as being my first ever piece of published work.

Goals for 2013? Write more! That’s a given. And try to meet up with my Romaniac buddies more – we’re still yet to all be in the same room at the same time. There’s always at least one missing ….. I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we all stepped into the same room at the same time…..Maybe something magical?

Vanessa: I’ve been lurking around the edge of this post, putting off adding my bit, because after a very difficult couple of months, I just wanted 2012 to be over… Then I was reading the other bits of the post and thinking – has it really only been a year the Romaniacs have been together? Surely not – surely I’ve known these lovelies for ever…

They’re the biggest highlight of my year – for friendship, support and sheer daftness, every one of the Romaniacs is a highlight. I’m smiling as I read about memories of the conference because – yes, of course, 2012 wasn’t all bad, was it? The conference was amazing, I laughed until I cried (more than once) and learned so much from so many wonderful people. And the RNA summer party – being there to see my lovely friend Evonne Wareham win the Joan Hessayon New Writers’ Scheme Award. A definite highlight. I had a short story published in Writer’s Forum, got shortlisted in a few competitions, finished a book I love, started another.

I’m ready to look forward to 2013 now – my agent should be sending my book out, so it’ll be nail-biting time again, I’ve got the next one to finish, another conference to attend, more parties to go to. All of which I get to share with my fellow Romaniacs.

Debbie : My highlight is an easy one, when so many of the Romaniacs were shortlisted for the New Writers’Award at the Festival of Romance this year and then seeing Celia’s face when her name was read out for winning a publishing contract with Piatkus. As for a new year’s resolution, well, I’m going to spend more time on myself, doing the things I like to do (include writing in that!).

Sue : So many highlights this year, it’s hard to pick one that really stands out. At a push I would have to say the RNA Conference. Not just because I learnt so much from the workshops and being able to meet up with lots of great people I had got to know through Facebook and Twitter, but also because of the fun we had – I don’t think I have laughed so much for so long in one weekend. The same could also be said of a weekend I spent at Tetbury with the author/reader group Love A Happy Ending. I have made some truly lovely friendships this year, which has been an on-going highlight. On the writing front, two big occasions are up there – publishing my book and getting short-listed for the New Talent Award. So, what of the new year? More efficient use of my time so I can get more writing done.

Would love to know what your highlights of the year have been and any resolutions you have for the new year?

In the meantime, from all of us here, have a fantastic 2013.

Merry Christmas!

Here at Romaniac HQ, we consumed our body weight in flaky pastry mince pies, matched our body fluid levels in wine, champagne and strawberry milkshakes, and rocked around the Christmas tree until nothing but a twig remained. Now it’s time to return home to our families and produce an annual feed that’ll keep them going for another year.

Before we pull shut the door and turn the lock, we are taking this opportunity to thank you all for your amazing support, brilliant interviews and wonderful comments.

We wish you a very, Merry Christmas and a peaceful, prosperous and successful 2013.

See you next year.

Take care.

With love from

xxx xxx xxx

We are showing and not telling …

After a hectic week of workshops, talks and parties, we thought we’d do what all good writers should … show and not tell

The River Ouse, Bedford, FoR12

Room mates for the Thursday night
The new Eric and Ernie

Laura and Catherine glammed up ready for Awards dinner

FoR party room

Pretty in Pink
Celia and Talli

Catherine, Sue Moorcroft, Sue

Debbie and Sue

Mandy Baggot and Laura – Dancing Queens

Celia and Laura clearly know the words

Saturday …

Sarah Tranter, ChocLit Author

Miranda Dickinson, Laura James, Fiona Harper

Saturday Night Romaniacal Quiz

Come on Liz and Debbie – share the joke!

Lovely Liz

Conference Day

Wednesday, 21 November – RNA Winter Party

Debbie and Jan

Debbie and Celia

Think Laura and Mandy are trying to make the same point

Nearly got away with it, but we spotted Mandy in the Romaniac line-up

Catherine and Celia
A nightcap before bed

Just before our goodbyes on Thursday morning, a quick stop here

Festival of Romance – A Romanical Quiz

Dear Festival Goers

By now you will know the Total E-Bound party is not taking place. This is sad news, but those broken hearts can be fixed and those pulses will beat again, as The Romaniacs invite you to their Romanical Quiz.

It will begin at 21:30, shortly after the Literary Dinner. You will not have to leave your dining chair as the quiz is coming to you – the cheese and biscuits of the evening, if you like.

We appreciate people have taken time to find the perfect outfits for what would have been an erotica party, and therefore encourage you to wear them. The Literary Dinner will look fantastic with romantic, historical and erotica characters at every table.

You will still receive your refund for the cancelled party.

Thank you.

Rules:

1)      Maximum number in a team is six.

2)      No arguing over team names.

We look forward to seeing you.