Toni Noel
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Margaret Mitchell – A Woman Who Pushed the Literary Boundaries

11/29/2011

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Much is written about Margaret Mitchell, author of Gone With the Wind. Little is written about Margaret Mitchell, the woman determined to live a private life away from the public's eye.

She grew up in Atlanta, Georgia listening to often retold tales of the Civil War by veterans of that war and ancestors who survived it. Their stories had a lasting impact on her. In her youth her Irish Catholic mother, Mary Isabelle Stephens, advocated for the extension of voting privileges to women, perhaps influencing Margaret's decision to become a journalist and drop out of medical school.

Few women writers found work on newspapers, and those hired were only allowed to cover social events of interest to women.  Her writing earned immediate acceptance and Mitchell a weekly column in the Atlanta Journal's Sunday Magazine, making her one of the first female columnists for the largest newspaper in the South.

She fully embraced the Jazz Age, writing as Peggy Mitchell in her column about the jazz bands and the current dance craze. It appears Margaret shook off society's restraints following her mother's death from the Spanish Flu in 1919. Her 1921 performance in a hotel of an Apache dance resulted in her being blackballed by the Junior League. You have to have grown up in the South to appreciate what a crushing blow this might have been to a young socialite.  Junior Leaguers put on the best parties, teas and charity events, all gatherings Mitchell would normally have attended, and as an aspiring journalist, reported on.        

Her hasty marriage in 1922 to Berrien "Red" Kinnard Upshaw, an abusive alcoholic, ended in an annulment in 1924 after Upshaw forcibly raped her. Think how many lives she might have changed had she gone public at the time, writing about spousal abuse and encouraging victims of brutality to escape and seek help, a missed opportunity that might have saved lives.

Mitchell married longtime friend John Marsh in 1925 and they enjoy almost twenty-five years of peaceful marital bliss. While a slow-to-heal broken ankle kept Margaret bedridden in 1926, Marsh encouraged her to try her hand at fiction, one of her dreams.  Over the next three years her story of the ravages of war in the South came to life in laborious longhand.

Only a few close friends knew about her novel. She made no attempt to peddle it, claiming it was incomplete and unrevised until "angrily goaded into allowing the vice president of Macmillian, Harold Latham, to read the manuscript for Gone With the Wind, " Esther Lombardi reports in About.com Guide.

The author immediately had second thoughts but Latham, foreseeing a blockbuster, asked Margaret to write a Chapter One, and sent her a $50,000 advance. She finished the revision in March of 1936 and he released the book on June 30, 1936. He later sent Mitchell another $50,000 check and authorized an 18% bonus for all employees because the book sold more copies than any other book in history before. That first edition sold for $3.00 and contained 1,037 pages, over 408,000 words. Gone with the Wind has never been out of print. A special hardback 75th Anniversary Edition priced for $48.00 was released in May of 2011. Mitchell's descendents own the copyright.   

Following the first publication, many male book reviewers gave the novel bad reviews. Only a few praised the book, but the public loved it and in 1937 Mitchell was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Gone With the Wind. David O. Selznick's film based on the novel premiered in Atlanta on December 15th of 1939. In 1945 when I was still a child I waited with my older sisters for four long hours in a line that circled a city block to view for the first time the re-release of the blockbuster movie.

Mitchell lived a quiet life in Atlanta until her accidental death in 1949, after being struck while crossing the street with her husband to see the film A Canterbury Tale. Long after her death another manuscript of hers, Lost Laysen, was found among love letters to a suitor. She'd written the story about a romance in the South Pacific in 1916. The novel was posthumously published in 1996 by Simon and Schuster.

Margaret Mitchell's epic novel was written long before romantic suspense became a popular sub-genre, but her successful writing career and her numerous awards smoothed the way for other women writers to achieve recognition in their chosen field.
  
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Deep Point of View – Part 3

11/4/2011

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Now that you've read part one and two of Deep Point of View it's time to look at some examples from my published novels.

Let's start with Law Breakers and Love Makers, my first release from Desert Breeze Publishing. The heroine, Zoe arrives to house sit her parents' unoccupied home.

Here's the opening hook:

Zoe Westmore glanced around the living room of her parents' new home. She'd have no problem obeying the first of her mother's house sitting rules. No sex in the living room.

Not in this sterile expanse of white on white.

Even if her mother hadn't put her foot down, Zoe had no plans for sex in the immediate future. Not while her parents were in Europe and she was responsible for the care of their exquisitely appointed home.

And later, in the house next door with Jon, the high school sweetheart who abandoned Zoe :

 She liked the coziness of this house, the feeling gentle arms were wrapped close around her to keep her warm.

Jon's? Zoe backed away from the thought.

Turning abruptly, she came smack up against his broad chest.

"Uh... sorry," she said. Her cheeks on fire, she stepped around him and hurried down the hall.

"You okay?" Jon asked, joining her back in the kitchen.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her fickle attraction tempted her to waltz right into his arms.

No way!

The reader knows she's fighting her attraction to him without the author telling us so.

 Later still, at the Jacuzzi:

He had spread the lounge cushions around the bubbling pool.

Umm. Thoughtful man.

"Want to go in? I turned the heat on, hoping you would."

"I... My... suit is in my room.

"You won't need it for what I have in mind," he coaxed. "I'd only have to rip it off. Come here."

As if in a trance she took a step, then another, guided by the warm glow in Jon's eyes.

The reader knows exactly what Zoe is thinking and feeling without the author writing: She saw a warm glow in Jon's eyes.

Now let's look at Temp to Permanent, a different kind of romantic suspense I wrote for Desert Breeze.

The harried business owner is expecting a temp to arrive at any moment to fill in for her ailing secretary.

At the scrape of a leather shoe sole, Carina's concentration cracked.

"Hello, is anyone here?"

Startled, Carina hit a wrong key. Unless his face matches that heart-stopping voice, I'll throttle this salesman.

She abandoned the keyboard and swiveled around in her chair. Six feet of tanned muscles crossed her carpet. No way would she choke this hunk.

"There's no one at the desk out front," a husky male voice rasped.

Surrounded by masculine scent, Carina riveted her gaze on his business card, then glanced up. Devilish blue eyes locked with hers. She looked away to conceal her unprofessional, very unladylike reaction.

She lets him stay and they get down to work:

A yellow package lay on Greg's desk. She opened the envelope and slid out the contents. "You saved me a lot of heartburn, Greg. Thanks."

His blue eyes failed to reveal his thoughts. "These are your messages. You seemed preoccupied so I took the liberty of screening your calls."

Wise move. She could easily adjust to his thoughtful manner, but found it impossible to ignore his presence. Even at her desk behind closed doors his deep voice had disrupted her thoughts.

Weeks later, against Greg's will they make love. He feels office romance are ethically wrong.

 Unbidden, his hand slid around her waist and he pulled her to him, burying his head in the spun web of her golden halo, in no shape to refuse her anything.

"Carina," he breathed.

She leaned back in his arms and tilted her chin up to look at him. Tiny fires burning in her eyes beckoned him. The warmth of her breath brushed his cheek. Her body heat, seeping through the layers of her caftan, scorched his legs.

With a groan of surrender he succumbed, dipping his head, needing to feel her soft mouth on his. The gentle brush of her lips will suffice, he thought. Just one.

The harmless meeting of their mouths for a tender moment was all he'd intended, but the brief touch in no way satisfied his need. He dove for her lips and pulled her hard against him, losing himself in the softness of her mouth. Her lips opened to his, letting him taste the sweetness she offered him.

All thought of hurrying the kiss evaporated. Her lips were soft, too soft, and warm, far too warm to abandon yet.

She moved a step closer. Pressing. Wanting. Needing. Need shook him, too. Without thought for the consequences, he swept one arm around Carina's waist, cradled her head with his other hand, and deepened the kiss. The taste of well-aged wine flavored her lips and he had a sudden deep-seated need for strong wine.

He had known he couldn't get his fill.

The reader is right there, in Greg's head.

And finally, let's look at Decisive Moments, a dark romance, and my latest release from Desert Breeze.

In this scene Charles has just refused Amy's request to photograph his boarded up house:

Strange, Charles thought, staring after the striking blonde who had interrupted his morning's work, the sudden burst of sunshine brightening his office seemed to have followed her out the door, making the office dreary again.

He ran a finger around his collar, which suddenly seemed tighter than it had when he'd dressed. He straightened in his chair and picked up a fine-tipped red marker, prepared to finish checking the blueprints on his desk.

For a long moment he studied the renderings of the formal entrance with thoughtful concern.

Cold stone and glass. She'd certainly been outspoken about his designs. Accurate, but far from complimentary.

Her disdain of his work stung.

Even in a dark novel, you need a little romance. Charles arranges a special dinner to thank Amy for the changes she's caused him to make in his life:

For a moment conversation ceased. So did her heartbeat.

She opened her eyes to gaze up at him, breathlessly waiting.

"Now," he added, "all my dreams include you."

Afraid to move, lest she break the sensual spell, she turned her head slightly, seeking his mouth. Their lips met and time stood still. With the tender kiss, sane thought ceased as well. His arms tightened around her as if he'd never let her go.

She wanted this, wanted Charles, with a desire far stronger than the circle of his arms. She threaded her fingers through his hair, smiled when he groaned. Drawing his head down, she deepened the kiss, and welcomed the sudden, sweet urgency throbbing through her veins.

His hands found the hollow of her spine, pressing, stroking, causing her heartbeat to race. Her breasts swelled, yearning for attention, and she swayed against his broad chest, the primal need to touch his bare skin making her brazen.

Aren't you right there feeling each heartbeat? That's Deep Point of View.

 Buy Link:  http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-template/Toni%20Noel/Page.bok

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Writing Deep Point of View, Part 2

11/1/2011

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Author Jeannie Lin, a master of writing Deep POV, has given me permission to quote from her 2009 Golden Heart winner Butterfly Swords,  published by Harlequin Historicals in 2010. Lin  writes about a heroine who loses a wager and must kiss the hero because she lost.

Every muscle within her pulled tight, poised on a knife's edge of anticipation as she stared at his mouth. He had planned this. His eyes flickered with amusement, reflecting sunlight and shade. The rough beard on his chin gave him a wild, dangerous look. Stiffly, she lifted herself onto her toes, bracing a hand against his shoulders. He was steel beneath her grasp.

The author didn't have to write about his muscles of steel. We feel them at the same time she does.

Here's another quote from Butterfly Swords by Jeannie Lin:

She closed her eyes. It was the only way she would have the courage to do this. Still he waited. It would be a brief meeting of lips. Nothing to be afraid of. If only her heart would remember to keep beating. Holding her breath, she let her lips brush over his. It was the first time she'd ever kissed a man and her mind raced with it. She hardly had a sense of his mouth at all, though the shock of the single touch rushed like liquid fire to her toes.

I've put Lin's passage in italics to avoid adding quotations marks around the quoted passages. She writes deep POV so flawlessly she does not need to italicize her internal dialogue. The reader has no doubt that Nothing to be afraid of is the heroine's attempt to bolster her courage. 

Here's more of Jeannie Lin's first kiss scene from Butterfly Swords:

He still hadn't moved, even though her knees threatened to crumble and her heart beat like a thunder drum. Finally he responded with the barest hint of pressure. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers. Without thinking, she let her fingers dig into the sleek muscle of his arms. A low, husky sound rumbled in his throat before he wrapped his arms around her.

 Heaven and earth. (The author does italicize this thought.) She hadn't been kissing him at all. The ribbon of resistance uncoiled within her as she took control of the kiss. His stubble scraped against her mouth, raking a raw path of sensation through her. She could do nothing but melt against him, clutching the front of his tunic to stay on her feet.

Whew! That's superb writing.

Use deep POV for scenes where emotions run rampant, or where tension is high. Deep POV can be tiring to the reader when used constantly, but for love scenes, fight scenes, any scene where emotions run high, go into the POV character's head.

Let us see what he/she sees, and feel what he/she feels.  Suzanne Brockman, JR Ward and Jennifer Cruise are just a few of the writers who are experts at writing deep POV.

Still have questions? Sign up for Virginia's Kantra's excellent class offered by WritersU,
I've Got You Under My Skin: Writing Deep POV.

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    Toni Noel enjoys  writing romantic suspense and contemporary romance, reading, gardening and walking her dog Jack in Southern California.  

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