I tend to start a whole lot of shite before I get to anything worth going on with, too. It's be a shame to tear up something so pretty.

semi-xposted with Literary:

It was just announced on my Regency writers' board that Zebra is discontinuing its traditional line--apparently one of the editors said so at an RWA chapter luncheon today. It doesn't really surprise me, but I honestly thought Signet would move first--they've been bringing out two Regencies per month to Zebra's four, and I've heard vague buzz that makes me feel like they're about to drop the line.

Traditional Regencies were the first romances I ever read, and I have a friend who just published her first and has another scheduled for the fall, plus two critique partners who are working on simply brilliant stories for the format. Though I saw this coming, I'm still sick on their behalf, because they're just so dang talented. I want them published almost as much as I want it for myself. So I'm wracking my brain for a way for them to sell the books without substantial alterations--so far I've thought of Harlequin Historicals/Mills & Boon (though they claim they don't publish Regencies, they do publish Regency-era, like a 70-90K word count, and seem more friendly to subtle sensuality), and two small presses that sell more traditional romances mostly to library markets, and that's it.

Sigh. End of an era. I'm selfishly very glad that I made a deliberate choice back when I was writing Lucy's story to go the nontraditional route, both because of my gut instinct about the market direction and because I don't think I could write a novel much under 100,000 words if my life depended on it.

I can see how the fancy ones might lend an air of formalcy or ritual to what you're doing -- I've gone both ways with sketchbooks. In the end, the moment and the product are your own.

Lilty, go spiralbound, but get the kind with a sturdy cover--I do all my longhand writing and note-taking in Mead Five Stars.

I can see how the fancy ones might lend an air of formalcy or ritual to what you're doing -- I've gone both ways with sketchbooks. In the end, the moment and the product are your own.

If I was feeling ambitious, I could always get the pretty one as more a trip diary. OTOH, with one backpack, should it come to a choice between a fancypants notebook and, say, another pair or two of panties, I guess I should err on the side of hygeine.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, I just finished the first half of Chapter 12.

That's it. Must go cook.

Lilty, I feel your pain. I love nicely bound and unique journals; I've bought dozens over the years. I haven't written in any of them, though. I take notes on legal pads or in spiral bound notebooks, then do my actual writing on the computer. Although, I've been known to use credit card receipts from my wallet in a pinch, when unplanned inspirations strikes in the bank drive-thru lane.

I once wrote fast and furious on the front and then the back flyleaf of a novel I was reading because I didn't have any paper with me. Since then I've carried a half-size spiral in my bag at all times. I found some that have pages of 20 lb paper, which is heavy enough to take fountain pen ink and not bleed through.

I break down and buy the pretty notebooks and journals...and wind up giving them away as gifts. When I started journaling again, I had a section in my day planner of lined notebook paper. The planner was usually with me, and I could scribble anytime a thought took me. I'd keep about a half-inch of blank pages in the binder, replacing filled ones with blank until I had about an inch thickness of filled pages. I covered report binders with pretty gift wrap or fabric, and bound the pages in those to archive. A pretty conceit, but now spirals do fine.

I wish I could keep a notebook, but my handwriting? Looks like ass. So keeping a notebook has been more about playing writer than being one.ETA: Because it became a prop as I could not read myself, later. I thought maybe that sounded judgemental of others' yen for the paper. But I was also blessed and cursed with a photographic memory. Blessed at times like that and cursed because I'm often stuck with a disturbing thought till somebody says(sigh) "Are you still on that?"

Going through my books some more. Would anyone like a copy of "Amateur Detectives: a writer's guide to how private citizens solve criminal cases", part of the Howdunit Series from Writer's Digest?