Writing Wrongs

May 16, 2007

Via Marianne, I discovered a call for entries/contest at The Wild Rose Press. Now, normally, I donít write pure romance. (Makes it sound like I write impure romance. According to some of my contest scores, thatís exactly what I do.)

Anyway, the scenario is time travel. Some of the guidelines bewilder me. Our Heroine starts out in a quaint little cottage in England, but she can end up in the American Civil War. So confusing.

Still, this is no stranger than the scenario I latched onto while thinking about the vintage timeframe (1955 Ė 1965) category. My mind went to the French Riviera, where you canít stroll down the street without jostling the arm of a charming jewel thief and all the women look like this:



Oh, to be that refined.

Of course, everything I know about the French Riviera circa 1950 I learned from watching To Catch a Thief. Which, actually, I think I need to watch again. You know, for research. Assuming I take this any farther than the dreaming stage. (Hey, donít knock the dreaming stage; itís sometimes the best part.)

So, a recipe. Ah, I see Google already has one:

1960s French Riviera
1 oz rye whisky
1/2 oz apricot brandy
1 tsp fresh lemon juice
Shake with ice pour into a cocktail glass. Add a maraschino cherry.
From the book International Cocktail Specialties written by James Mayabb (Castle Books, Inc, 1962) "Renowned on the Riviera as his specialties are two drinks made by Andre of the Hotel Negresco, Nice."

Rye whisky = our hero. Heís an unapologetic, yet charming, jewel thief. He also has a wry sense of humor (oh, I slay me).

Apricot brandy = Our Heroine. Sheís sweet, yet potent.

Fresh lemon juice = the time travel. Iím telling you, this thing writes itself, no?

Shake with ice pour into a cocktail glass. = This would be the actual writing. Note, itís shaken, not stirred.

Add a maraschino cherry. = Revisions.

As for this: "Renowned on the Riviera as his specialties are two drinks made by Andre of the Hotel Negresco, Nice." = a sentence no one actually wants to utter, since itís extremely awkward. Maybe if we ignore it, it will go away.

Man, this writing thing. How hard could it be? Shake me up another French Riviera, and Iím going to be all over this story.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 3:51 p.m.

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