Hi. My name is Lizzie Darcey.
I sat here at my computer, contemplating my first entry to this diary, and squirming from the pressure of it. After forcing myself to write, I worked through it and was actually pretty pleased with the results. Then I hit save. And my entry got deleted.
Needless to say, I’m now thoroughly annoyed.
I was talking to my fiancé yesterday and was trying to describe a similar feeling. I said that a friend’s attempt to belittle me had cranked me. My fiancé kindly mentioned that the word cranked generally has drug-related meanings, which later sparked a response from me about the differences in slang between countries for words like pissed (US: annoyed, UK: drunk) and such. I also announced that as a budding author, I could make up any words I damn well wanted to, and that my friend had cranked me. Artistic license or what have you.
Well, I’m feeling it again. My little episode with the Save button rebelling against me and deleting my journalistic masterpiece (well, everything’s perfect in retrospect, right?) has CRANKED ME. Mostly because I should have known better. But enough about my technical difficulties. The problem has been rectified. I have spent the first quarter of my first post venting my anger and we can get to the important stuff now – and I’m writing in Microsoft Word and pasting it online instead.
Let’s start again, shall we?
Since fourth grade, I have been compiling a list of "Things To Do Before I Die". The list is thrilling to me, but frightening to my parents - and surprisingly short. The list has, in fact, grown shorter now that I can cross the first item off my list - swimming with a great white shark, in the wild. (Story here)
My second wish is to write a novel and try to get it published. I know, you’re shocked. You didn’t see that coming at all.
I've been reading all my life. I’ve conjured up hundreds of little dramas, but until now, they've stayed locked away in my head. But no longer! I am embarking on a new adventure now - I will write a romance novel - and not just any romance novel. I will write a romance novel that *I* would enjoy reading.
Reading has been a favorite pastime of mine since I was little. My mother would read us Grover’s There’s A Monster At The End Of This Book 
after our bath, and before bed. I learned to read by alternating reading aloud Walter Brooks’ Freddy the Pig series with my father. The first novel I ever finished all by myself was The Hocus-Pocus Dilemma by Patricia Kibbe – and it took me all summer before fourth grade.
As I grew older, I developed a profound love of the classics, adventurous tales, and computer manuals (more on this later). I generally read what the schools considered quality literature, but I also read a bit of fluff as well – stuff like the Babysitter's Club series, the Sweet Valley High series, and Christopher Pike books.
Books like Jean Auel’s Clan of the Cave Bear were suggested to me when I was about 14, but the graphic scenes disturbed me and I figured, if that was a romance novel, I wasn’t interested. Over time, though, I found other prehistory novels I did enjoy. I found the tension between the strong-willed heroine and hero in Joan Wolf’s Daughter of the Red Deer fascinating, and it became one of my “keepers” long before I even understood that concept.
I didn’t really dive into romance until my senior year in college. It was the middle of winter and I was exhausted with my 60-hour-a-week internship and my rather aggressive engineering course load when my brain decided it had had enough of logic and wanted some creativity. At this point, three things happened:
- I started scrapbooking like mad
- I enrolled in a photography class
- I picked up my first real romance novel
Funny enough, after graduation these clear symptoms of engineering burnout did not abate.
Now, it’s years later. I still scrapbook, although I’m years behind and perpetually out of acid-free adhesive. I’ve shot hundreds of thousands of photographs, and it has changed from a hobby into a semi-professional endeavor. And I’ve read thousands of romance novels.
When I stumble upon a good romance novel, I devour it. I’ll read in bed, bath, or even at a stoplight (yes, I know, I know, that’s what audio books are for). I’ve read some great stuff, and I’ve also read a lot of mediocre writing. But while I might gripe over lack of historical accuracy or flat characters, I’ve always been kind of glad that the quality of romance literature is all over the board. I’ve often thought to myself that I, too, could write one. The bar’s not that high. I mean, how hard could it be?
So one Friday night, not too long ago, I was watching Merchant Ivory’s A Room With A View and nursing a bottle of wine, while waiting for my fiancé , who was working late. I suddenly felt inspired. I whipped out my laptop and pumped out 5000 words before I knew it.
You might think it was a moment of whimsy, but I let the idea of finishing my story roll around in my head for a while and decided I should follow through. I mean, everyone says that the hardest part of writing a romance novel is actually writing it - as in following through and finishing it. The more I thought about it, the more I decided it was silly not to go for it.
I hope you’ll enjoy this account of the trials and tribulations of romance novel writing!
~Lizzie Darcey
