Well RWA is over. Everybody who went is heading home. Thus begins what I tend to refer to as the drought of decent blog reading.
Why is that? Well, there are only so many accountings of all the fun that was had, people that were met, and rehashes of assorted panels that were given. It’s like a two or three week reminder that I was too poor/busy/whatever to go.
I realize perfectly well that I sound like one of the unpopular kids that got dissed by not being invited to the party.
This is not sour grapes, I promise. I had a great time participating in Left Behind and Loving It, and I feel like we generated some decent discussion on the Panster to Plotter thing. It just gets tiring reading 42 different takes on the same stuff, and since a HUGE portion of the writer’s blogs that I read are by romance writers who were there, that’s kind of what I get. I just kind of wish coverage were…I don’t know–spread out a bit more so that it’s not all happening at the SAME TIME.
In other news, Lynn announced yesterday that she won’t be continuing the Left Behind and Loving It tradition after this year. It’s such an awesome online conference, and I’m sad about it, but I can certainly see that it would be very time consuming to organize–not to mention expensive with all those fabulous prizes. What I’m hoping for next year is some kind of collective hosting/sponsor effort, kind of like how 70 Days of Sweat functions. I’d certainly be willing to help organize. Anybody else interested? Speaking of the Sweat, when is the next round of that coming back?
I started reading Black Hills last night. I had wondered whether Nora had somehow slipped from her usual awesomeness after reading this obnoxious review in the Washington Post. But no. I find the story as believable as any romance novel, more so than most. Which leads me to say that Miss Corrigan simply has no respect for the readers or writers of romance if she insists on slapping us all in the face for not sharing her poor taste simply because she HAD to read the book for her job and she wanted to whine about it.
I, on the other hand, am very much enjoying the book, as I generally do one of hers. It has me thinking about reunion type love stories. Have you noticed it’s always 12 years? The hero and heroine have whatever their backstory relationship is somewhere between the ages of 16-college age (which may or may not include a sexual consummation of the relationship), then something tears them apart and 12 years later they come back for the current day story. I realize that this is partly because they need time to grow up and make something of their lives and acquire some more baggage or whatever for the purposes of the story, but seriously it makes me laugh. Several of Nora’s books–it’s 12 years. My CP’s last project–it was 12 years. My last finished book–it was 12 years. It’s like the magic number.
This post has turned rambly. I need more caffeine. Did not sleep well last night. I had another spider dream that took me a while to come down from.