Writer Wednesday - Thin Spots and Tenderness

Window Over The Sink 

By Liz Flaherty 

Thin Spots and Tenderness 

I wrote this article a few years ago, and even then I had to start it 10 times or so--I think that's what happens when a person blogs too much, which I have a tendency to do. My subject matter gets sparse and the quality of what I write thins out to where I'm not always proud of what I'm putting out there. For those of you who read what I write, I thank you for doing so and apologize for the thin spots.

Which opens me up to asking questions of writers who are way, way more prolific than I. Ones who release six or seven books to my one, who get five- or ten- or twelve-book contracts. I’d like to read everyone’s answers, though, including ones whose writing and publication times are more like mine.

How do you do it?

Do I want to? No. That ship sailed long ago--I'm more a rowboat kind of writer now. A book or two a year is enough for me. But at my best and fastest of writing times, I couldn't have done it. I'd say it was because I was also working, raising kids, etc., but in truth, so were most other writers I knew. No, the fact is that I never had that kind of productivity in me. I wish I had--sort of. Maybe I'd have gotten a bigger name, a longer back-list, and more money. So here's another two questions for those of you who out-write me six ways to Sunday.

Do you like it that way? What would you do different if you were starting over in this business?

I would change my own way some. I’d have been more driven, but I don’t know how you insert that into yourself. I suppose I’d have developed a brand, but I think I might have become bored with who I was—which wouldn’t bode well for readers. 😊

Thanks for answering. And now on to something else that is connected. Sort of.

I was thinking about romantic fiction this morning—actually, I think about it, read it, and write it every day. But I was musing about the things that matter so much to me in it. Happily-ever-after, empowerment of women, realistic looks at issues that matter to us, strength. I thought of favorite books, favorite authors, favorite scenes, and realized the common thread of what calls to me. And I was surprised by it.

Tenderness.

I re-read a Kristan Higgins book and cried for the several-th time over the death of a dog. I'm not going to say which book or which dog, but I will say the scene and the ones that followed it created a new and powerful definition of tenderness.

In my favorite (this week) of Kathleen Gilles Seidel's books, Till the Stars Fall, the relationship between Quinn and Danny (who should have had his

own book, but Kathy says he’s too old now) was as compelling as the romance between Quinn and Krissa. They were manly men--hilarious and flawed and oh-God sexy--but the bonds of their friendship were held together with tenuous threads of tenderness.

A scene in a Pamela Morsi book wherein the heroine described her husband's illness and death compelled me to write an embarrassingly gushing fan letter to Ms. Morsi. The fact that she'd experienced what she wrote made the tenderness all the sweeter. All the stronger.

So now, one more question (if you've stuck with me this far)--what common thread runs through your favorites? Extra credit if you share scenes or books that demonstrate it.

©2021 Liz Flaherty All Rights Reserved
Retired from the post office and married to Duane for…a really long time, USA Today bestselling author Liz Flaherty has had a heart-shaped adult life, populated with kids and grands and wonderful friends. She admits she can be boring, but hopes her curiosity about everyone and everything around her keeps her from it. She likes traveling and quilting and reading. And she loves writing. http://lizflaherty.net/