Dear Reader,

The other night I had dinner with dear friend, fellow author, and expert editor Dori Ostermiller. I often teach workshops at her studio in the town I lived in for 35 years. (And I'm facilitating one on October 5—more below.) Dori is finishing a memoir manuscript and of course we talked about it and about memoir in general. She asked me why I wouldn't write one. I've had a really interesting life and could say a lot.

I had to tell her, I will never write a memoir. Yes, I have many anecdotes and shocking tales. I've had several different careers, lived in London for 10 years, earned two graduate degrees. But in order to write a memoir, you have to have a point. You have to have something bigger than your story, a universal that readers can relate to. I don't feel that I have that.

Instead, I use my life experiences in my fiction.

In fact, all the books in my entire Double-Dilemma Romance series use my own personal passions and my experience with them as jumping-off points.

In The Dressmaker's Secret Earl, I used my knowledge of and fascination with period costume to create a similar passion in my principal female protagonist (I bought and sold vintage clothing and textiles while I was in graduate school).

In my forthcoming The Falconer's Lost Baron, I indulged my lifelong passion for raptors to create a heroine who felt the same.

The case is similar—but deeper—in The Soprano's Daring Duke. Several aspects of my life played into my decision to make both my heroines opera singers:

• I grew up listening to opera—my father loved it.
• I have a PhD in music history from Yale, and my focus was mid-eighteenth-century opera.
• For five years I worked for a (now defunct) opera company doing fundraising and marketing.

All three of those facts furnished me with a wealth of knowledge about opera and singing—it was in my ear, in my intellect, and vicariously in my body.

Not all inspirations from life are direct.

There is another aspect of my youth that is at the very heart of the story itself. I was never a solo singer. I was, however, a very serious, accomplished pianist.

What does playing the piano have to do with opera? Nothing directly (except that I always had a very good ear).

What it has to do with my book about a young singer with a voice that was too big for the drawing room is the attitude of my own mother with regard to my playing. She saw in her daughter a young lady who could wow her guests by playing the piano brilliantly—guests who would talk through the Schumann or Brahms or Beethoven I was pouring my heart into.

Heck, she even talked through it! Came a time when I was about 16 that I refused to play on command. The music was too important, the activity too deeply personal, to serve as a parlor entertainment. Needless to say, she was not happy about it.

So when I gave Olivia a similar aching awareness that her mother had no ability to partake of her deep love of singing great music, I was drawing on my own long-ago emotions.

Likewise with regard to her ambition to sing on the stage of the King's Theatre. For me, it was a longing to play a really beautiful piano—like the Hamburg Steinway I performed on in the picture above. (That was in 1991, my graduate recital at Smith. I played the Bach e-minor partita, Schumann's Kreisleriana, and the first movement of Shostakovich's 2nd piano concerto, with my teacher playing the orchestra part on another piano.)

Turning dreams and memories into fiction

So, while some writers answer the deep need to express their thoughts, ideas, and emotions through memoirs (so many beautiful memoirs—I've coached and am coaching several), I—perhaps because I'm such an introvert—prefer to filter all of it through the lens of fiction.

As a side note (pun intended), if you read the eBook of The Soprano's Daring Duke, there's a link to a YouTube playlist of the music featured in the story.

Now about that workshop...

I mentioned this in my previous newsletter, but I'll tell you again. On Sunday, October 5, I will be leading the Community Writing Workshop for Writers In Progress. This is a three-hour workshop (although workshop is a bit of a misnomer: it's really an opportunity to make space for your own writing and then share with others if you are comfortable doing so) on Sunday morning over Zoom. It's only $10 to attend, and I'd love to see many of you there.

Read, Swoon, Repeat ends soon!

This is a fabulous collection of 24 closed-door romances by some wonderful authors. I recommend going and snagging some freebies while you can!​

That's everything, except that I'll end with a self-serving plea for reviews if you've read any of my books. These are so important for authors to improve rankings on Amazon.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend! See you next week.

Susanne