Jennifer Crusie's Blog: Argh Ink

Here’s our own Krissie, aka Anne Stuart, talking about writing her new historical, Ruthless:

I tend to be a binge-writer. In the beginning I jump right in, write a few chapters and then figure I’ve got a good start, now I can play. So in general I shop, I quilt, I wander in and out of my office and my manuscript for the next month or so, writing a chapter here and a chapter there. Then the deadline looms closer, and I work harder, getting to the big turning point where everything explodes and the final act of the book takes place, usually taking about 50 to 75 pages. I always tend to do those in one swell foop, quite often packing up my computer and heading for a motel so no one will bother me.

I tend to be much more of an intuitive writer than Jenny is. She’s all about the left-brain, revise till it’s perfect, beats and TPs. I only go there when I’m having trouble with the mss. Most of the time my pacing is instinctive, and while it’s not as pitch-perfect as Jenny’s, it works for me. When Jenny finishes a draft the work’s just starting. When I finish it the rest is a piece of cake.

So RUTHLESS, my first historical in a few years, was due in a week, I had to deflower the heroine, kill her initial abuser, more sex, escape to England, bogus marriage and a cliff-side confrontation where, spoiler alert, the bad guy dies and the hero and heroine live happily ever after. I could go to a hotel, when I realized, oh joy, oh, rapture, that I could pack up and go stay with Jenny and Lani in the magic house in the woods. They would leave me alone in the living room to look out over the Ohio River and write, they would feed me, I’d have dogs to cuddle and Steak ‘n Shake to indulge in. And the airfare would be cheaper than the hotel.

So off I went. I turned the recliner around to face the river, watched the water flow by and wrote a ridiculous amount, because of course more things ended up having to happen in the book than I realized. It was about 120 pages (new courier double-spaced, but still) … and whenever I emerged I got to play with Jenny and Lani and Sweetness and Light, and Wolfie and Milton and Veronica and Lyle and Mona. Sheer heaven!

The only downside was when Lyle decided to attempt ritual suicide by stealing my empty package of Whole-Grain goldfish and dive in headfirst. We found him in the basement, the bag around his head, sweaty and exhausted but happy from eating every last crumb and then breathing in the fumes. We removed the bag from and decided to go with the giant economy side box of goldfish in the future, plus keep a closer eye on Lyle.

When I finished it was Halloween, and Lani had taken the girls out to trick or treat (I politely won’t mention that she closed the car door on Light’s finger). Jenny and I went to Olive Garden to celebrate (hey, we know how to party!) and then I had to slog my way back to Vermont and revisions, with Jenny and Lani consumed with jealousy that I got to type “the end.” Actually I don’t type “the end,” I just stop, but you know what I mean. Anyway, jealous as they were, they said I could come back any time, which of course I did, but that’s another book, written under another name, and another story.

RUTHLESS is everything an Anne Stuart historical should be. A dark, decadent, deliciously elegant hero who thinks he’s seen and done it all, Francis Rohan survived Culloden to live in exile in France. He’s gotten to the point where orgies bore him and his dissolute playmates are a drag, when who should be thrust into his life but the upright, proper Elinor Harriman barging in, searching for her mother. Once he has his hands on such a charming plaything, how could he let her go? Particularly when he makes the mistake of falling in love with her, try as he might to resist her. For her part, Elinor simply wants to protect her beautiful younger sister and keep her ragtag family together and safe. She has no time for Rohan’s games, even if she finds them irresistible. Romance, adventure, obsession, redemption, lovely sex and a happy ending. What more could you ask for?