Romily Bernard, Guest Blogger.

Romily Bernard, a member of Georgia Romance Writers, is our guest blogger today. She's new at this, so be kind to her. Hey, girl, go for it!

Real life in our books?

Maybe it’s because my manuscript has been sitting on an editor’s desk without comment for the better part of two months, but everything is starting to parallel the writing process for me. Can’t get my dishwasher to work? Neither did my last hero. Husband recently set himself on fire? Yeah, well, who hasn’t envisioned torching an entire manuscript? Incapable of selling my latest project horse? Well, that one isn’t much of a stretch. Except it is, because we’re talking about Lucero here. Or Lucifer as we are prone to calling him when his owner is out of earshot.

It’s Saturday afternoon and Simon is using one half-finished cigarette to light another. “Now listen to me,” he announces. “I want you to sit in that saddle like your butt crack itches.”

The directive makes me pause as I tighten Lucero’s girth. Simon is especially evocative when nervous and half-lit and most people would object, but we’ve known each other for so long I only hear the prayer in his command. (Please, dear God, just don’t let the damned horse buck you off.)

I nod, because there really isn’t anything else to say. My prayers happen to be circling the same theme. It isn’t that Lucero is evil, but he is a problem horse. High-strung and opinionated, he kicks like the storied mule and missed my head by inches last week during a particularly expressive temper tantrum.

That being said, I like him. Very much. But it remains to see if the waiting couple will. The waiting couple has the checkbook and the ability to put another financial wall between Simon and a retirement spent eating Fancy Feast.

I hang back to adjust Lucero’s leg protection and Simon strides out of the barn with a wide grin plastered across his face. I recognize the look. Used it at my last editor appointment, actually. It’s the only shield you have when you’re about to present something you’ve made for someone else’s approval.

But for all of our worries, Lucifer did well. He trotted and jumped and cantered and made it all look effortless. Except for the corner where he did, in fact, buck, but Simon and I smiled it away. The couple passed anyway though, and the disappointment teethes on both of us as we walk our problem child back to the barn.

Their excuse was that Lucero “just wasn’t what they were looking for.” Put that on a form letter and any writer will recognize it. The implication is that there’s nothing wrong with Lucero. He’s quite lovely, but he still isn’t right. There is something fundamentally lacking in him.

Writing can be the same way. You can be lovely and still not right. You can do all the revisions in the world and still not be what they want because our fundamentals, our bones, our selves just aren’t “what they were looking for” and that is what scares me the most. We cannot change who we are and we certainly cannot change who we are on the page. The words can shift and morph, but the bones stay put. And what if that isn’t good enough? What if it will never be good enough?

But we soldier on if only because the alternative is to give up. After all, I have that new idea that just won’t leave me alone and Lucero’s younger brother is coming up for training. His name is Soleil, but his groom calls him Satan.

We have horse folks and writers here, so make your comments or ask Romily questions. And give her a hand! I hear applause and cheering!