I Put a Ring on It!

(In other words, I know what I'm going to write next.)

Eureka!

I have finally decided what I’m going to write next, with the full blessing of my agent, and now I’m going to talk a bit about the process. My process, at least.

I’ve shared that my problem is usually I have too many ideas. My brain comes up with a bazillion book premises—some based on real people, some based on real events, some based on a concise, definitive era of history. I’ve written books that are one or all of the above.

I write them all down in a file. I fall briefly—passionately—in love with some, only to wake up the next morning and realize it was just a one-night stand, not a marriage. Some, I enter into a tentative relationship, hoping it will be long-term, but find out, after having written a bit, that it, too, is not destined for a happy ending. But during that initial period of new love, I’m very besotted.

Lately—this past year or so—all my ideas have ended in a breakup. I believe I’ve hinted at how very difficult this industry is right now. All my ideas from the past year—and some I’ve written quite a bit of—all had some obstacle to success. A few years ago my reputation and the publishing climate would have allowed me to pursue these, regardless. Not today.

So I’d get excited, I’d pitch to my agent, I’d write—and then, eventually, I’d see the obstacles to this succeeding in this very difficult climate. You cannot give readers—or publishers—anything, no matter how tiny, that raises any kind of red flag or doubt or marketing issue. Easy, easy…that’s what we’re supposed to be giving readers right now. The easy yes. The easy read. (I’m not talking about the quality or simplicity of the writing; I will still use my big words and multiple POVs.) I’m talking about the subject matter.

And then I’d go back to my bazillion ideas and try to fall in love again, or go out there looking for a new love. And—rinse, repeat. Obstacles. Always obstacles to a happy ending.

Now, my agent has to be on board. She’s the one who will get me a new contract based on this idea, so she has to be as excited about it as I am. And sometimes she hasn’t been, and that, too, has affected my odds for a long-term relationship.

But reader, today—June 23, 2026—is the day I tied the knot! I found IT, the one, the story I believe only I can tell, the story that is so wonderful that I will happily spend the next couple of years writing, editing, proofreading, marketing, talking about ad nauseum once it’s out.

I learned that when The Aviator’s Wife became so successful. If a book does really well you will be talking about it for years and years to come. I still am talking about that one. You really have to love the book you wrote. You can’t get tired of it. You can’t dislike it even a little bit. You have to want to talk about it until the stars burn out in the sky.

And I have found that story! After our initial “meet cute,” I lived with it a few days, and instead of my interest waning, or worrying, I only grew more in love with it. Strength after strength presented itself, more and more layers became evident, interesting ways to tell it waved their hands. My agent is completely besotted with it, too. Once again, a completely obscure historical tidbit that I bet nobody else knows about, or at least remembers, pushed its way out of my brain and yelled in my ear and I said—

Hot damn. That would make a TERRIFIC novel!

(This exact thing happened with the Swans of Fifth Avenue, btw.)

Reading, my friends. Reading. It’s why I became a writer in the first place. It’s also how I’ve gotten many of my ideas for my novels. Mrs. Tom Thumb—I came across the name of Lavinia Warren Stratton in E.L. Doctor’s novel, Ragtime, and was intrigued. The Aviator’s Wife—I’d read a biography of Lindbergh. The Swans of Fifth Avenue—I read Answered Prayers. Mistress of the Ritz—I read a nonfiction book about the Ritz during World War II. The Girls in the Picture—I read a book about Frances Marion. And now, here I go again.

And there Are. No. Obstacles. Nothing potentially triggering or offensive or a time period that’s not particularly marketable. A huge, famous cast of characters, anchored by a couple of very appealing, winsome young heroines. A dazzling setting. A never-to-be recaptured moment in time. An intersection of time, place and people that few people are aware of, but that had an impact on history as we know it.

And that’s all I can say about it. Historical novelists are very protective of their works in progress, because history is finite. We don’t want competing novels, and that does occasionally happen. (A few novels about Zelda Fitzgerald came out years ago, very close together, for example.)

So that’s all I can say about it. Except—

Congratulate me! I’m in love!!

(And I’m registered at Tiffany’s, in case you were wondering.)