Bethany Patrick's Blog
June 21, 2021
Emotion Poured Onto Paper
Not a Contemporary Romance fan? Guess what, historically I wasn't either. It's not my first choice of genre to read and I don't consider myself an overly emotional or romantic person. So how did I end up with the Contemporary Romance, Heavy Is the Hurricane, credited to my name?
Truth is, when I started the manuscript it wasn't the genre I was targeting and I certainly didn't know where the story that only existed as bits and pieces in my head was going to take me. But as Tyla's story unfolded, as she navigated loss and betrayal, the story became an exploration into the dynamics and depth of love rooted in various kinds of relationships; friendships, familial and romantic, and how these relationships - good or bad - all play a part in who a person ultimately becomes.
In the end, Tyla's saving grace, well, it was love.
No matter what story there is to tell, love, in its many facets, is inevitably going to be twisted into the passages and chords of the journey.
When asked, I don't call Heavy Is the Hurricane a Contemporary Romance. I call it 'emotion poured onto paper'.
Truth is, when I started the manuscript it wasn't the genre I was targeting and I certainly didn't know where the story that only existed as bits and pieces in my head was going to take me. But as Tyla's story unfolded, as she navigated loss and betrayal, the story became an exploration into the dynamics and depth of love rooted in various kinds of relationships; friendships, familial and romantic, and how these relationships - good or bad - all play a part in who a person ultimately becomes.
In the end, Tyla's saving grace, well, it was love.
No matter what story there is to tell, love, in its many facets, is inevitably going to be twisted into the passages and chords of the journey.
When asked, I don't call Heavy Is the Hurricane a Contemporary Romance. I call it 'emotion poured onto paper'.
April 20, 2021
Just Along For the Ride
I don’t know what other authors’ writing process is, but I am sure mine looks nothing like what it is supposed to. I have heard the mention of ‘outlines’. What’s that?
I write only as inspiration hits me with a questionable roadmap as a guide. In fact, it’s less like a roadmap and more like a kid’s hand-drawn scavenger hunt with the prize somewhere in ‘that’ direction. Most times I have no clue where a story is taking me….I am just along for the ride.
I write only as inspiration hits me with a questionable roadmap as a guide. In fact, it’s less like a roadmap and more like a kid’s hand-drawn scavenger hunt with the prize somewhere in ‘that’ direction. Most times I have no clue where a story is taking me….I am just along for the ride.
April 9, 2021
Can Sweatpants Be My Ticket?
All my favorite authors/writers like coffee. Amend that, love coffee; post daily pictures of them, their children, their books, their pets, their plants, their computers all posed with coffee. And I love seeing these pictures; snippets into their kingdoms.
But I don’t drink coffee, honestly not even sure I like the smell of coffee. Not a fan of wine either, or any alcohol really. I look atrocious in glasses. I’ve had long hair nearly my entire life and still have no clue how to perfect the messy bun, or use a pencil to hold it up. Discussing my characters instantly turns me into a shy and bumbling simpleton.
All of these may be stereotypes, but I’m afraid that my nonadherence to them might disqualify me from being a writer.
I do love sweatpants though. Sweatpants even in 90+ degree weather, absolutely. I also love rainy anytimes; mornings, afternoons, evenings. My mind only stops spinning when I feed it sleepy meds. And I’ve never felt prouder than the first time I held the weight of my own book in my hand.
Are these things enough to forgive my distaste for coffee and allow me to join the club?
If so, I promise to always stage photos of my books with sweatpants. And maybe even matching socks.
But I don’t drink coffee, honestly not even sure I like the smell of coffee. Not a fan of wine either, or any alcohol really. I look atrocious in glasses. I’ve had long hair nearly my entire life and still have no clue how to perfect the messy bun, or use a pencil to hold it up. Discussing my characters instantly turns me into a shy and bumbling simpleton.
All of these may be stereotypes, but I’m afraid that my nonadherence to them might disqualify me from being a writer.
I do love sweatpants though. Sweatpants even in 90+ degree weather, absolutely. I also love rainy anytimes; mornings, afternoons, evenings. My mind only stops spinning when I feed it sleepy meds. And I’ve never felt prouder than the first time I held the weight of my own book in my hand.
Are these things enough to forgive my distaste for coffee and allow me to join the club?
If so, I promise to always stage photos of my books with sweatpants. And maybe even matching socks.
April 8, 2021
Exploring Empathy
In Heavy Is the Hurricane, Tyla felt as if her world had ended and she was ready to leave this life not knowing that the best was yet to come. As is so often the case, our minds hemorrhage and bleed false demons that block our sight of the light that is just around the corner.
To be human means to allow one’s self to feel all of life, all of its tragedies, magic, and miracles. It means to be aware of and vulnerable to that which is occurring around us, to invest in the lives of others, to pay forward empathy and compassion. If we live our lives as such, then grief is not always rooted in physical death. Sometimes it is the consequence of the ebb and flow of life pulling you away from someone, something, or someplace that has become a fundamental part of your makeup.
Writing Tyla’s story allowed me to explore empathy as I experience it in my own life. And also to evaluate what is really important to me, what relationships need fostered and what can be or should be let go.
To be human means to allow one’s self to feel all of life, all of its tragedies, magic, and miracles. It means to be aware of and vulnerable to that which is occurring around us, to invest in the lives of others, to pay forward empathy and compassion. If we live our lives as such, then grief is not always rooted in physical death. Sometimes it is the consequence of the ebb and flow of life pulling you away from someone, something, or someplace that has become a fundamental part of your makeup.
Writing Tyla’s story allowed me to explore empathy as I experience it in my own life. And also to evaluate what is really important to me, what relationships need fostered and what can be or should be let go.
March 2, 2021
'Hurricane' is a metaphor.
Heavy Is the Hurricane
Despite the title, there is no hurricane in this story. 'Hurricane' is a metaphor. The only precipitation in the story were my tears that fell upon the pages as I wrote them.
There were scenes from this book that tore me up for DAYS after writing them. That when I looked back at the pages, I couldn’t fathom where that depth of darkness even came from. There were moments when reading scenes aloud to others, my throat got so thick that I felt like the words were strangling me. There were also months on end in which I couldn’t even put a single word to paper; I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to allow the weight of the character's feelings to compound with my own real-life situations.
As a reader, I don’t know how this will translate for you. But in a way, that is the adventure of reading fiction; the subjectivity that allows each of us to interpret and respond to the author’s prompts in our own unique way, based on our own experiences and biases.
Despite the title, there is no hurricane in this story. 'Hurricane' is a metaphor. The only precipitation in the story were my tears that fell upon the pages as I wrote them.
There were scenes from this book that tore me up for DAYS after writing them. That when I looked back at the pages, I couldn’t fathom where that depth of darkness even came from. There were moments when reading scenes aloud to others, my throat got so thick that I felt like the words were strangling me. There were also months on end in which I couldn’t even put a single word to paper; I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to allow the weight of the character's feelings to compound with my own real-life situations.
As a reader, I don’t know how this will translate for you. But in a way, that is the adventure of reading fiction; the subjectivity that allows each of us to interpret and respond to the author’s prompts in our own unique way, based on our own experiences and biases.
