Author: Emma

Emma Barry is a teacher, novelist, recovering academic, and former political staffer. She lives with her high school sweetheart and a menagerie of pets and children in Virginia, and she occasionally finds time to read and write.

Party Lines: Teaser 3

We’re one week away from Party Lines‘ release! You get one more excerpt. It’s short but juicy.

His skimmed a hand over her cheek. She didn’t stop him.

“You ruined my day.”

“And doing that made mine.” She set one hand and then the other on his shoulders.

This shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t touch her. He shouldn’t want to touch her more. This was a colossally bad idea.

Moving slowly, Michael leaned down until their lips were millimeters apart. He could taste her from that distance, the wariness and arousal, the hesitation and anticipation. The air moved between them, from his lungs into hers, and back to his, so hyper-charged it hurt. He hurt. Wanting her hurt.

He could cross the space, kiss her and go back to working on dissembling Republicans the next day. Or he could stop this crazy thing before it went too far—

I wonder which one he’ll choose.

You can pre-order Party Lines at Amazon, B&N, Carina, iBooks, Kobo, and Google Play or add it to your Goodreads shelves. Reviewers can request it at Netgalley.

2014 in Review

2013 was a fantastic one in my writing life: I sold and released Brave in Heart and sold The Easy Part series. 2014 was more measured. Don’t get me wrong–wonderful things happened. For example:

  • I released Special Interests. Some people read it. Some peopled reviewed it (and some of them liked it). All of this shocked and delighted me.
  • I edited and released Private Politics. Ditto with readers and reviewers. Ditto ditto with shock and delight.
  • I wrote and edited Party Lines, which’ll be out in a few weeks. I’m nervous about it but I also love it and I think it’s different from everything else I’ve written–hopefully in a good way. (Don’t forget to enter my giveaway, which ends tonight.)
  • I wrote many beginnings and middles of books, both historical and contemporary…but none of them sold, or are scheduled, or are even finished.
  • I read lots of wonderful books and wrote many blog entries.
  • I defended my dissertation.

My words of fiction written this year total is probably in the 100-120,000 range, which is less than I had hoped. So my goal for next year is to write consistently.

I hope to have more releases next year after Party Lines: watch this space for updates. But in the meantime, I’m thankful for the people I’ve gotten to know writing. Most of all to Gen Turner, who is awesome beyond belief, but all the people I talk to on Twitter, the people who’ve read and reviewed my books, and everyone who has edited and promoted them: you rock!

Here’s to hoping for words and inspiration and joy in 2015.

Party Lines: Teaser 2

If you celebrate, I hope you had a lovely holiday. We’re only a few days away from the end of the year and only a few weeks away from Party Lines‘ release! Here’s your second teaser:

When Lydia swung by the bar to buy a bottle of water, she almost didn’t stop when she saw a certain Democrat staffer sitting in a corner booth. Almost. But he was so deliciously rumpled and stared at the wall with a forlorn air that she found she couldn’t leave things as she had on that plane on the Des Moines tarmac three weeks earlier.

“Tell me, what’s the difference between whiskey and bourbon?”

She delivered the question leaning against the booth across from him. When he glanced over at her, she could see the moment of recognition. She definitely enjoyed the murderous gleam taking residence in his eyes. It would have shot a lesser woman back on her heels and maybe out of the bar altogether, but Lydia was taking on the Willis family in the morning—she could handle Michael Picetti.

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a pouty smile. Anyone watching would think she was trying to pick him up. She wasn’t, but this was too much fun.

He took a drag from his drink and his frown deepened. After several false starts, he asked, “Why do you care?”

“Oh I don’t. I wanted to see if you pronounced bourbon like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. You look like you would.”

The second she’d sat down next to him on the plane she’d noticed he was good-looking. Tall and slim with dark brown eyes and too-long brown hair he frequently had to sweep out of his eyes. She didn’t as a rule go for hot guys. Okay, so they didn’t go for her, but even if they did, she wasn’t interested. As a group, they were boring—they’d had everything too easy.

Michael had started their acquaintance at a disadvantage and then had dug himself in further with his assumptions about who she was. He’d gone from passively to actively pissing her off, which made this situation so delightful. She was merely returning the favor.

He slammed the glass, containing one or the other liquid, down on the table with a heavy thunk. “I look as if I’d pronounce bourbon like… You’re insane, you know that?”

“Noted.”

As a reminder, you can pre-order Party Lines at Amazon, B&N, Carina, iBooks, Kobo, and Google Play or add it to your Goodreads shelves. Reviewers can request it at Netgalley.

Also, I meant to give an early copy of this away a few weeks ago, but my giveaway winner chose Private Politics instead. So…leave a comment on this post and I’ll choose a winner on Wednesday, December 31, at midnight. Entrants must be able to accept either a .mobi or .epub. Good luck!

Hail, Hail, the Gang’s All Here

I was thinking about Louis Althusser…as one does. I have a long-time, complicated relationship with the neo-Marxists. More specifically, I’m fascinated by the Frankfurt School (and would like to write a romance set in a fictional version of it), but I’ve read many of the later, post-WWII generation of Marxian theorists too.

Althusser is not, to be clear, my philosophical boyfriend: he had a troubled personal life, with the whole killing his wife thing, so that honor belongs to Jurgen Habermas.

(Hey, Jurgen. It’s been a while. You’re looking good. Remember that time I saw you speak about democracy and communication and it was like we were the only people in the room?)

Anyway, I was thinking about the essay Ideology and the Ideological State Apparatus. In the most famous section, Althusser discusses how ideologically-driven societies (like our own capitalist one) require subjects to function. For him, subjectivity is a self-conscious identity–indicated by things like interiority and agency–that’s produced by an ideological society; the entire thing is pretty circular. We’re products of our education, interpretive communities, social practices, etc. and the ideological state produces people in its image who think they have their own desires, choices, thoughts, and so on but who are merely doing exactly what the state wants them to do–like we think we have a choice about what we drink, but it all comes down to Coke vs. Pepsi. And this goes on replicating itself forever. (Except when it doesn’t.)

Continue reading “Hail, Hail, the Gang’s All Here” →

Party Lines: Teaser One

So Party Lines will be out in three weeks. You probably want some teasers, hmm?

It’s very cold here. This seems appropriate.

She played with the scarf hanging around her shoulders. “Because having dinner with a Democrat is partying where you’re from?”

“No.” He reached over and tied the scarf—a ridiculous, lumpy, red thing—firmly around her neck. Keeping a hold on the ends of it to keep her close, he added, “Because I barged in on your meal, asked you to eat with me. And where I’m from, if a man invites a woman to dinner, he pays.”

“You’re bad at that feminism thing.”

Over the course of the evening, he’d eaten, so he was no longer hungry. For a time at least, he’d been warm—though seriously, Iowa, forty-five seconds outside and that was fading. Soon, he’d be back in his room and he’d get some sleep.

But staring down into Lydia Reales’s face, the neon lights from the Applebee’s sign illuminating her eyes and coloring her cheeks, he suddenly felt massively less satisfied.

The moment stuck to them until they completely passed what might be just a friendly touch. Until he couldn’t help but look at her mouth. Until he tugged on her scarf, trying to pull her closer, not to kiss, but just to nestle under his chin for a moment.

She saved them both by not moving. Which was safer. Smarter. The right call.

With an exhale, he released her scarf and stepped back. “Yes, I am.”

He found his rental car and drove back to his hotel room alone.

These two are a lot of fun. You can preorder them at Amazon, B&N, Carina, iBooks, Kobo, and Google Play or add them to your Goodreads shelves. Reviewers can request it at Netgalley.

Winter Blahs Giveaway

Thanksgiving has barely ended, Hanukkah is just over a week away, and Christmas looms. Winter weather is sending almost everyone in the United States scurrying for our blankets and cranking up our thermostats. And I’m up to my teeth in papers to grade and dissertation defenses to prepare for (really there’s just the one).

To help with the stress and cold, I’m going to give away a digital copy of a book–specifically one copy of any book I’ve written. There’s the Civil War, second-chance-at-love angst of Brave in Heart, the cynic/idealist budget negotiation of Special Interests, the opposites attract scandal of Private Politics (which has a Jewish beta hero!), and the not-releasing for a month cross-party campaign banter of Party Lines.

The rules: you must be able to accept either an .epub or a .mobi file. And you must comment below and tell me which book you’d like. I’ll pick a winner on Friday, December 15 make that 12, at midnight EST.

ETA:

Screen shot 2014-12-13 at 8.07.49 AM

I gave everyone a number, 1 through 9, and the random number generator spit out 2. The winner has been emailed!

eARCs of Party Lines

Party Lines is now on NetGalley!

I feel somewhat weird posting this because I support the blogger blackout and have concerns about the commercialization of book discussion. But…I wrote the book and I’m proud of it and I want people to read it.

While all of the books in the series are oppositions attract romances, this is an enemies-have-a-steamy-affair book–an affair that threatens their jobs, values, and sense of self. It’s banter-y and fun and heart-wrenching and, yes, they exchange flirty emails wherein they fight about the Bill of Rights. Oh, and there’s a presidential campaign. This is probably the only romance anyone can name that includes parts of stump speeches because I’m really good at knowing what readers want. (Ha!)

If you blog about or review contemporary romance and are interested in featuring or reviewing the book, doing an interview with me, running an excerpt, etc., please send me an email–-author.emma.barry (at) gmail.com–-and we’ll see if we can work something out. I don’t actually have ARCs yet (hopefully soon!), but if you have a problem with your NetGalley request, or if you don’t use NetGalley, let me know.

For more information about the book, including the opening chapter, look here.

The Dashwood Rule

If you are a person who reads about media on the Internet, you’re probably familiar with the Bechdel Test. Taking its name from Alison Bechdel a Gilmore Girls actress (ETA: or not. Yeah, I’m an idiot. It’s actually named after MacArthur Genius Grant winner Alison Bechdel, whose graphic novel Fun Home is way super awesome. I’m going to leave this error here so we can all laugh at my silliness, which is legend), the Bechdel Test grades books/movies/TV shows/etc. on the basis of whether they include two or more named female characters talking about something besides men. It is astonishing how much media, and specifically media targeted at women, fails to meet this standard. Even within genre romance, in which female friendships are frequently represented, not every book passes the Bechdel Test.

Over the weekend, I read Erin Satie’s excellent historical romance The Secret Heart. One of the things I liked about the book was not just that it passed the Bechdel Test–the heroine, Caro, and her close friend, Daphne, discuss art and paint–but that the hero and heroine have conversations about things other than each other and their relationship.

For example, early in the book Caro and Adam talk about their respective (and suspect) passions, ballet and boxing. Caro explains,

“Dancing makes me feel powerful. In control. Like— I don’t know— a watchmaker— and my body is the watch— and some people say God is like a watchmaker—”

“So dancing makes you feel like God?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know, maybe a little.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and hunched her shoulders, tipping her chin into her chest. “I don’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” Adam snorted. “Blasphemy?”

“It’s just. So, God the watchmaker.” She raised her arms and let her hands illustrate her words as she spoke, enthusiastic despite herself. “He builds the whole universe”— she mimed a child stacking blocks—“ and he winds it up”— the fingers of one hand twisted while the other held her imaginary watch steady—“ and lets it go, and then…” She flicked her fingers wide, miming a starburst. “Everything works!”

She glanced in his direction, something sad and solemn in her expression. “Except that the universe is nothing like a watch. It can’t be. It’s full of living things.”

(Kindle Locations 446-453)

As good passages tend to be, it’s wonderful on several levels, but for the moment, I want to focus on how the conversation reveals the characters’ philosophies about the world. Caro and Adam pursue their arts for disparate reasons, seeing the relationship between their bodies and their human-ness differently, which is part of how we know even before they do that they will understand each other better than anyone else in their world and would thus be good together. These ideas come out of their backstory, but I don’t think Satie could have substituted any other conversation here that would have as concisely or effectively shown us who the characters are, why they are different, and why they are similar. Sure they’re talking about deism in a way that reveals their education, the early Victorian world in which they live, etc., but this is all about character development. And it’s a way of doing that development that doesn’t feature in every romance.

I proposed on Twitter yesterday that we need a new test to capture this quality, namely a way to celebrate when the hero and heroine (or hero/hero, heroine/heroine, etc.) have a conversation about something other than their respective personal histories or romantic relationships.

I suggested calling this the Dashwood Rule. I was thinking about a scene in a Sense and Sensibility adaptation in which Margaret Dashwood defends her mother’s cousin and his mother-in-law, saying, “I like them. They talk about things. We never talk about things.” But Miranda Neville pointed out that the “things” Margaret likes are the characters talking about people, love, scandal, gossip, and so on, which is sort of the opposite of what I mean. So perhaps it needs a different name.

But regardless I think we should recognize and celebrate romance in which characters talk, really talk, about art, music, philosophy, history, sports, beliefs, and ideas of all kinds–in which, in other words, all the things that we love about our partners in real life get represented on the page.

So the Dashwood Rule*: live it, learn it, love it.

* Or whatever we decide to call it.

Party Lines: Opening Chapter

If you live in the United States, it’s Election Day, so you should vote. And when you’re done, I have a reward for you: the opening chapter of Party Lines, the final book in The Easy Part series. (Non-Americans can just read the chapter.) Party Lines is smart, sassy, and steamy–and it has the best opening chapter in the series.

I’m nervous about this book. It was hard for me to write and it’s different structurally than the first two. But I love it so much and I want you to love it too.

Warning: this chapter contains very minor spoilers for Special Interests and Private Politics, major banter, and a few adult words.

Continue reading “Party Lines: Opening Chapter” →

A Fine Romance Friday: Arsenic and Old Lace

It was difficult for me to pick the right film for today. It’s Fine Romance Friday, yes, but it’s also Halloween. I dislike scary movies intensely. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from the time I watched the first 10 minutes of The Silence of the Lambs. Plus, scary movies don’t usually have romance–something about serial killers not being romantic.

I considered several Hitchcock films, but they didn’t seem particularly related to the holiday. “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” has Linus and Lucy in the pumpkin patch. But then it came to me: Frank Capra’s 1944 screwball comedy Arsenic and Old Lace. Sold!

Starring Cary Grant, Priscilla Lane, and pretty much every character actor in mid-1940s Hollywood, it’s the simple tale of a writer who has made a career decrying love and marriage…that is, until he falls for the girl-next-door. They have a quickie ceremony on Halloween at City Hall, but before they can escape on their honeymoon, they run home to tell their families. Hijinks ensue.

The plot of this film is batty even by the standards of a screwball comedy. It involves sweet old ladies committing murder, sibling rivalry, delusional relatives (literally), criminality, plastic surgery, jokes about publishing, and a meditation on Teddy Roosevelt and masculinity. Oh and Cary Grant plays a guy named Mortimer. It’s delightful.

Pauline Kael famously wrote that the screwball comedy “turned love and marriage into vaudeville acts and changed the movie heroine from sweet clinging vine into vaudeville partner.” Arsenic and Old Lace isn’t the most successful example because it’s a bit light on the romance. I want to know how Priscilla Lane got Cary Grant to propose in the first place and I want her to be a more equal partner than she is; she’s forced to be the damsel in distress a lot. If anything, the film substitutes Grant/Mortimer’s aunts for character development of the romantic lead. They are the main feminine presence in the film, though they are totally charming. Additionally for all the trappings of humor, it’s a dark film and can be legitimately scary. So I don’t think it’s a pure screwball comedy. But it strikes a compelling balance between a few spine tingles, a wonderfully witty script, and several sequences of laugh-out-loud physical comedy.

If you’re looking for a light Halloween film with a bit of romance, I commend Arsenic and Old Lace to you. It would pair nicely with some elderberry wine–though hold the arsenic.