Why Sarah MacLean is amazing, and Romance is #NotSilly

I attended Emerald City Writers’ Conference last weekend, and it was AMAZING!  I attended last year and had a great time–this year was even better.  Not the least of why being Sarah MacLean’s keynote address on Saturday.

I mean, I had a feeling it was going to be good when she got up on the stage wearing a shirt that read “Ask me about my feminist agenda.”  And, if you’ve ever visited her Twitter profile, you know she is smart, funny, educated–and all about equality and parity between the sexes.

In other words, totally my kind of chick.

Anyway, I wish I’d recorded her keynote, or at least taken notes so I could give you all a more thorough rundown, but here’s the gist:

The Romance genre, its authors–and it’s readers–are called everything from harmless to dangerous by the wider literary community and media. We’re accused of setting unrealistic expectations. We’re called silly.

And that word–silly–is what Sarah MacLean has the most trouble swallowing.

It’s not silly to be the highest selling genre of fiction.

It’s not silly to be an industry of predominantly women, for predominantly women.

It’s not silly for women or men to have healthy romantic relationships where they are satisfied both emotionally and physically. (And no matter what anybody tells you, healthy, satisfying relationships are not an unrealistic expectation!)


In this last week of #metoo, and in this last year of increasing attacks on women’s ability to control our own healthcare, the Romance genre is even less silly.  Romance is here to remind us that we are deserving of better. We are deserving of equal. We are deserving of respect. Of common decency. Of freedom to choose: to have sex, to abstain, to consent, to say no, to walk away, to make mistakes, to act–to live with the same expectation of justice and respect that our male counterparts enjoy.

I hope you agree. If so, I encourage you to share your stories of why Romance is #notsilly to you. Spread the word!

1433273850616In more fun news, Sarah gave everyone at the keynote her book, The Rogue Not Taken. I’ve never read a historical romance (besides Pride & Prejudice, of course!) so I’ll be giving it a go as soon as I finish Interview With A Vampire (#ElleReadsInterview)



#ECWC2017 or Bust!

Hello everyone!  As I post this, I am at Emerald City Writers’ Conference!  Last year, I met so many awesome people, attended some seriously eye-opening classes, and got to listen to some of the most respected authors in the Romance industry speak.

So, of course, I’m doing it again this year!

There will be all kinds of great things to tweet and post about, so keep an eye out on Twitter!

AND, if you’re in the Pacific Northwest, come on out to the Passport to Romance reader appreciation event on Saturday night!  It’s open to the public, there will be tons of authors there to meet and chat with + drinks, tons of swag, and a really fun atmosphere. If you decide to attend, comment or tweet at me so I can say hi!



This #Ghoststories post is brought to you by a friend of mine who shared his story with me just last week.  Thanks Kyle! 

“My Dad lived in a house that had been a stagecoach stop in the 19th century. It’s on the National Historic Registry in Missouri.  You always felt watched in that house–like, most nights when I was a kid, if the weather was nice enough, I’d sleep out on the porch. It just wasn’t comfortable inside. My bed was original to the house–it has shotgun spray lodged into it. Just to give you an idea.

Anyway, one night when I was in middle school, my dad had some friends over and let me invite a couple of friends over, too. Everybody was hanging out in the living room, just talking and having a good time, the adults drinking some beers.  All of the sudden, we start hearing a crashing sound, like glass breaking.  A bunch of us got up and followed the sound into the kitchen to find the necks broken off all of the bottles of beer that were sitting on the counter. Beer is pouring down the fronts of the cabinets, onto the floor, and the necks are sitting alongside the bottles, clean broken, no shattered glass.

It was especially spooky because everyone in the house had been in the front room–everyone had heard the noise. We all experienced it together, so it wasn’t one person’s word over another’s. Nobody could explain what had happened. ”