A Day in the Life of.....
Anne Barton started swiping romances from her mom’s bookshelf as a teenager and decided historicals (with their balls, dukes, and gowns) were the best. So, when she had the chance to spend a semester in London she packed her bags—and promptly fell in love with the city, its history, and its pubs. She dreamed of writing romance, but somehow ended up a software analyst instead.
Fortunately, a few years and a few careers later, Anne found her way back to writing the stories she loves and won the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart®for Regency Historical Romance. She lives in Maryland with her husband and three children, who try valiantly not to roll their eyes whenever she quotes Jane Austen. Her weaknesses include reality TV, cute-but-impractical shoes, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.
Anne is represented by Helen Breitwieser of Cornerstone Literary Agency.
A Day in the Life by Anne Barton
Thanks so much for having me at Stitch-Read-Cook!
My days are not very exciting or glamorous, I’m afraid. For the most part, it’s just me, my computer, and my lucky writing chair spending quality time together when we can, in between other things like the day job and kid stuff and…life. But once in a while I get a true writing day, with not much else going on. Those precious days go something like this…
8:00 a.m. Hop into the mini-van and head to the drive-thru for coffee. Pray that I don’t get pulled over while wearing my pajama pants and slippers.
8:30 a.m. Sit down at my desk and re-read the last scene of my work-in-progress to get my head back into the story. Happily recall that hero and heroine were on the brink of a hot make-out session.
9:00 a.m. Consult several research books and perform an exhaustive Internet search trying to find the correct Regency terminology for “make-out session.”
10:00 a.m. Write the
make-out session scandalous tryst.
11:30 a.m. Check email and Facebook. Try to think of something clever to say on Twitter. Grab a handful of goldfish crackers to help me think. No luck. Crack open a can of Diet Coke. Still nothing, dash it all.
12:00 p.m. Return to the story and realize I need to set the next scene, which requires a line or two describing an elegant dining room. Surf the web for ideas.
1:00 p.m. Lunch time! Pass over the Lean Cuisine selections in my freezer in favor of leftover pizza in the fridge.
1:30 p.m. Return to my research on Regency dining rooms. Briefly forget why I’m perusing samples of period wallpaper and spend an hour selecting a pattern for my imaginary country house. (It was a grueling decision, but I’m going with this.)
2:30 p.m. Write two sentences describing the dining room in my story.
3:00 p.m. Decide the scene should really be set at the opera and delete the two sentences I just wrote. Throw myself on the couch in despair. Did Jane Austen ever have days like this?
3:30 p.m. Get up for a cookie and realize I haven’t gotten the mail. Emerge from my front door like a squinting, burrowing animal that rarely sees the sun. Pray that no neighbors witness me walking to the mailbox in my pajama pants and slippers.
4:00 p.m. Meet my writing partner, Cara Connelly, in a chat room. We spend 30 minutes whining about how we really need to (1) get some words written on our stories and (2) exercise more.
4:30 p.m. We concede the exercise isn’t happening. But the words are! We pinky swear to write our hearts out for one hour then meet back to check progress.
5:30 p.m. Cara and I finish our scenes and proceed to congratulate ourselves profusely.
Obviously, this calls for dinner out. And maybe a movie. My husband readily agrees—probably because he knows that’s the only way I’m changing out of my pajama pants.
SOME RULES SIMPLY BEG TO BE BROKEN
A dressmaker in London’s busiest shop, Miss Anabelle Honeycote overhears the ton’s steamiest secrets—and (occasionally) uses them to her advantage. It isn’t something she’s proud of, but the reluctant blackmailer needs the money to care for her gravely ill mother. To make up for her misdeeds, Anabelle keeps to a firm set of rules:
- Never request payment from someone who cannot afford it.
- Never reveal the secrets of a paying client.
- Never enter into any form of social interaction with a client.
Her list keeps her (somewhat) honest—until she encounters Owen Sherbourne, the Duke of Huntford. Not only does Owen nip Anabelle’s extortion plans in the bud, the devilishly handsome Duke soon has the sexy seamstress dreaming of more than silks and satins. With Owen, Anabelle enjoys pleasures she never imagined. . . until a scandal from the past resurfaces. Now her rules could mean his family’s ruin. Owen’s searing kisses carry the promise of passion, but how will he react when Anabelle’s most devastating secret is finally revealed?