Thursday, October 6, 2022

MY CURRENT BROKEN HEART IS DUE TO HALLMARK

 

About three months ago, I received an email from Hallmark inviting me to write a romance novel for their publishing division. I was excited. I mean, they wanted ME to submit a novel to them – a novel that, if published, also had the chance to become a movie on the Hallmark Channel! I honestly believed my big break finally had arrived. 

But there were rules to follow. First of all, the book had to be between 75,000 and 90,000 words, which was a lot of words to write. But even more difficult was the letter said the novel could be submitted only between October 1st and October 31st.

That gave me very little time.

And there were other rules listed for Hallmark romances: no romantic suspense, no nudity, no sex, no violence, no swearing, no infidelity, no promiscuity, and nothing physical beyond hand-holding, hugging and kissing. Also, the points of view of both main characters had to be expressed (minus any impure thoughts).

Could I do it, I wondered? Was I capable of writing a romance novel that quickly, especially while adhering to all of the rules?

I had no idea, but I was determined to try. This was my big chance, I told myself, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And I wasn’t about to let it pass me by.

So I set to work. First I had to think of a plot I could stretch out for at least 75,000 words without it becoming a cure for insomnia.

Usually I come up with my ideas for stories while I’m out walking. So for about a week, I walked – the equivalent of to Canada and back. Finally, I came up with what I thought was a real brainstorm – something I didn’t think had been written about before, especially in a romance novel…and especially in a Hallmark story. I was ready to start writing.

So I wrote…and wrote some more…up to 12 hours per day. I cursed my body when it cried out for sleep because to me, sleep was cutting into my writing time, and time was ticking away too quickly toward the deadline.

I neglected my housework. I forgot to eat. And when I didn’t forget to eat, I didn’t feel like cooking anything anyway, because it took too much time. So I often lived on nutritious things like cookies and crackers for an entire day.

Finally, after nearly three months of blood, sweat and tears, I finished the book – all 81,300 words of it. I felt like breaking out the champagne and hiring a marching band. 

Then came the editing…where I went back over what I’d written and changed just about everything…about 20 times, until I was satisfied with the flow of it.

Whenever I tried to come up with a title for the book, however, I suffered a bad case of writer’s block. I wanted something catchy, something witty. Instead, because time was running out, I just titled it something I thought sounded kind of Hallmark-ish, and left it at that.

When October 1st arrived, I was ready…and proud of myself. I’d accomplished what I’d thought was impossible. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t dyed my hair in three months and had white roots that made me look like a skunk. It didn’t matter that my fingers were so sore from typing non-stop, I no longer could make a fist. And both of my dogs thought it didn’t matter that they’d gained five pounds each because every time they got noisy while I was trying to concentrate on my book, I’d give them a chew treat to keep them quiet.

What did matter was I’d set a goal for myself and I’d accomplished it.

So around 5:00 AM on October 1st, I prepared to email the first three chapters of my manuscript and a five-page synopsis, as requested, to Hallmark. I was excited, to the point where my stomach was in knots.

Long story short…as it turned out, the original email I’d received hadn’t been a special invitation to me to write a book, as I’d thought – it was a form letter. It actually had been published in Hallmark’s newsletter, which has about a gazillion subscribers, and it even made the rounds on several huge websites with another gazillion subscribers. So by the time I was ready to send my manuscript, Hallmark already was buried with them.

And as a result, they posted a notice saying they weren’t accepting any more submissions… indefinitely.

So just like that, my three months of hard work meant nothing and my dreams went up in smoke. I never even had the opportunity to send anything I'd written, never mind have someone look at it. I was, and still am, feeling crushed. 

I have no idea what to do with this book now. Just the mere sight of it on my computer screen induces chest pains.

Although, I’m seriously considering self-publishing it…just so I can order a copy…

And then have the pleasure of burning it.

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Sally Breslin is an award-winning syndicated columnist who has written regularly for newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science-fiction. Contact her at: sillysally@att.net.



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