Writing can be lonely business.  No one can write your book for you (unless you’re a celebrity or pseudo-celebrity and can hire a ghost writer).  Nope, it’s just you.  You have to wage your own battle with words and ideas…and wrestle them all to the ground.

Three years ago, I read a book that changed my writing life: How to Write a Lot:  A Guide to Productive Academic Writing by Paul Silvia.

It basically says what every serious writer already knows:  get your butt in the chair, set goals, and just do it.  Writing is not about inspiration.  It’s about discipline.

Silvia also talked about connecting with other writers.  You need someone to hold you accountable to your goals.  You need someone who knows how hard writing is and who can give you gentle encouragement or a swift kick when the going gets tough.

For nearly four years now, I have had the fantastic good fortune of being part of an online writing group.  It first started with my fellow professor-friend, Christine who was looking to jump start her research too.  Thanks to Google Docs, she and I kept a shared daily log of the time spent on each of our books and how many words written.  This keep each of us from falling off the radar for more than a few days.

Every Monday, we’d send each other an email outlining our goals for the upcoming week.  Those emails also became spaces where we could talk about whatever roadblocks, obstacles or–more happily–writing triumphs we were experiencing.  And at the end of every month, we did a “text swap.”

Christine and I soon learned that we could trust each other with even the roughest of writing.  Sometimes, I’d give her fragments of Blood Work that were nearly incomprehensible.  I’d ask her to do a “truffle hunt” on them–that is, she’d sniff out the more promising bits from what was otherwise a mess.  And then there were the “surgical strikes,” where I needed her to cut out the digressions and other sections to which I really too attached but needed to excise nonetheless.

She and I were always clear with each other about what we needed:  a proofread, a check of the main lines of the argument, attention to flow, to character, etc.  This helped us get input on precisely what we were needing, nothing more, nothing less. This is important in writing groups, because sometimes even the best-intentioned reader can inadvertently stifle the writing flow if the parameters are not set.

We also agreed that whatever idea or prose fragment that one of us offered to the other was theirs to keep.  This way, there would never be any confusion or hard feelings.  And I can tell you that every time I look at the first few paragraphs of Chapter 4 in Blood Work, I think of Christine and the week she spent at my house during one of our legendary “Writing Boot Camps.”  At different moments during the week, we did a writing swap.  (I love giving things names, so I called it our Freaky Friday speed write.  She’d take my computer; I’d take hers.  And then we’d write for each other.  Sometimes that alone could unlock all sorts of ideas.) There’s nearly an entire paragraph in Chapter 4 that she wrote.  And it’s beautiful.

Not long after we started working together, Christine mentioned our writing group to Eric, a professor-friend at her home university.  They decided to do something very similar…but in person, rather than at a distance. They actually met regularly and wrote together.  Nothing like making sure you’re not goofing around when you have someone across from you saying:  ”Get Busy!”  (Christine or Eric, could I talk you into sharing more details about this?)

In just two and a half years, our little writing group produced THREE books.  I finished the manuscript for Blood Work. Christine finished her book, which is now under review at a great university press.  And Eric finished his book, for which he is finishing up revisions this month.  It will be coming out soon with another fantastic university press.  I’ll let them decide whether they want to share additional details about their successes here.

The three of us are now hard at work on proposals for our next books.  We’ve also expanded the group to include three other members and use a free Wiki hosted through PBWorks to communicate together.

I’ll write more about the nuts and bolts of the Wiki later.  But believe me when I tell you that I could not imagine writing this next book without the support, encouragement and expertise of my generous writer-friends.

Any writers out there?  I’d love to hear how you rely on others for motivation and feedback.  Also, anything you’d like to know about the writing group or the writing process?

By Maria Dahvana Headley

While researching QUEEN OF KINGS, a novel which braids the historic events surrounding the death of Cleopatra with magic, gods, monsters, witches and warfare, I found myself stuck in a research vortex.

Cleopatra offers her soul to an immortal in an attempt to save her beloved Mark Antony, and her country, but in the selling things go terribly wrong, and she’s transformed into a ferocious, bloodthirsty creature who cannot die.

Which goddess should she bargain with?

I knew that what I was looking for existed in the classical world – Lamia, hybrid serpent/maiden blood-drinkers are referenced in Greek mythology, for example – but I wasn’t sure what I’d find in the ancient Egyptian pantheon.

Ra’s daughter, the first vampire, awaited me.

Sekhmet, one of the most ancient Egyptian goddesses, is usually depicted as a lion-headed woman. She famously functioned as a warrior and defender of pharaohs, but initially, Ra sent her to earth to punish human betrayers. In a frenzy of slaughter, Sekhmet nearly destroyed all of humanity by drinking their blood, until Ra laced the waters of the Nile with alcohol and dyed them blood red with pomegranate juice in order to trick her. Sekhmet drank the Nile’s waters and was captured.

It was only a small step from that legend to my story featuring a thwarted and still bloodthirsty goddess, seeking a millennium’s worth of delayed vengeance on Mankind.

About the author: Maria Dahvana Headley is the author of Queen of Kings, the first in a trilogy of historical fantasies about Cleopatra, and The Year of Yes, a memoir of a year in which she went out on a date with everyone who asked her. The only thing these two books have in common is that they are both filled with references to love and to libraries.

Hi everyone. I just stumbled on a newish history website, coming out of University of Texas-Austin’s history department. http://www.notevenpast.org/

It made me wonder: what are some of your favorite history websites? Let’s see how long of a list we can make here!

Calling anyone who loves History, Medicine and Science! I have just started a new book group over at Goodreads – and would love to have you join us!

In addition to chatting about our favorite books (nonfiction and fiction), we’re also starting a book group. We’ll be diving into our first book together beginning May 1. Will it be Deborah Blum? Mary Roach? Perhaps Knife Man, a book about the 18th century surgeon John Hunter? Lots of great nominations so far. Add your own title! We’ll vote on the finalist.

And if you’re not on Goodreads already, why not? It’s like being in the world’s biggest library – but you can talk!

Reading the reviews of your book can be a little scary.  At least at the beginning.  The first review of Blood Work that came out was from Publishers Weekly, which is read pretty much by anyone who is anyone in the publishing business.  It was a starred review–which is the equivalent of a huge double thumbs up.  To say I was happy and relieved would be an understatement.

But there’s always the fear that maybe the first good review is a fluke.  Maybe the reviewer was confused and thought they were reviewing a different book.  Maybe they were in an unusually good mood when they wrote up the review.  Or, hey, maybe they were just drunk…

Other reviews have come out since PW, and they have also been great.  That helps take the sting out of one review in a small regional paper that called the book “mostly engaging.”  For some reason, that “mostly” kept ringing loudly in my ears like in a story by Edgar Allen Poe…until a friend told me to cease and desist. She started quoting other bits of the review that were very praiseworthy.  Authors can sure create their own special type of neurotic hell.

And then, there are some reviews that are just beautiful–not just because it’s a delight to know that another person enjoyed your book, but because the reviews themselves are just beautifully written.

This recent one from the Barnes & Noble Review by Paul Di Filippo was one of them.  It’s crisp and to the point…but also laden with vibrant adjectives that made this girl blush.

Another gorgeous one was from the New Scientist, written by Paul Collins. What I loved about it was how the reviewer added new material to the topic.  I mentioned in passing Thomas Shadwell’s The Virtuoso in the book. Collins expanded on Shadwell’s play and used it as a frame for a discussion of the larger arguments of Blood Work. He essentially included what I wanted to include, but couldn’t figure out how.  And he did it better than I would ever have.

And finally, the Boston Globe review by Michael Washburn.  Some of you may know that my first book was on science, medicine and the early fairy tale (which was not for kids, filled as they were with sex and violence).  I just love how this review opens.  And of course, the praise Washburn generously offers for Blood Work could not be more appreciated.

I have reviewed books for the San Francisco Chronicle and other publications.  I know how much work it is.  I also know how little these writers are getting for the number of hours that they have to put in, first, reading the whole book carefully and, then, writing the review.  And when the reviews are as nicely written as these, you know that each has a love of the craft.  What a treat to have my own writing framed so beautifully with the words of other, more talented authors.  Truly grateful.