This is the seventh of twenty-five blog posts to celebrate my twenty-fifth published novel, A Skye Full of Stars. Here, I wanted to share how much the Romantic Novelists Association (RNA) means to me.
I’ve been a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association since about the year 2000. I heard about it from another author at a party for short story writers. I was sure she must have had one glass of wine too many when she told me that published novelists provided critiques for members of the New Writers’ Scheme. But when I saw a past chair, the late Marina Oliver, was coming to a library about half an hour away from my home, I went along not only to hear her but to ask whether this amazing opportunity was real.
It was! She even had a leaflet to give me, and I joined the Association as a New Writer the next day. NB Marina has, sadly, recently left us, but she ended up as my first editor and suggested me for tutoring opportunities, so I owe her a lot.
It took a little while for me to decide that the RNA’s parties really were for everyone, not just published novelists, but I’ve rarely missed one since that first time. Each is an opportunity to meet authors at all stages of their careers and also all kinds of industry professionals. I’m not ashamed to say that before I was settled with my present wonderful agent (Juliet Pickering of Blake Friedmann) and editor (Helen Huthwaite of Avon, HarperCollins) I considered every agent and editor fair game to be chatted up with a view to sending them my books. If they minded, they wouldn’t come to the party, was my reasoning.
And the authors! At my first party, at the Arts Club in Dover Street, I said to someone, ‘I wonder if Katie Fforde’s here? I’d love to meet her.’ Whoever it was turned around and introduced me to Katie, who is the nicest, friendliest person.
My First Entry…
I won’t pretend that I wasn’t disappointed when my first entry into the New Writers’ Scheme (eventually published as Starting Over) received a rigorous critique but not what was then called ‘a second read’, which would have indicated that the reader felt I should be looking for a publisher or an agent. To be honest, I’d considered myself ready for a publisher or agent for a while and had been submitting all over.
My second novel into the scheme (eventually published as All That Mullarkey) did get a second read, and I have always been grateful to that reader, Trisha Ashley, and the NWS co-ordinator, Margaret James. Trisha recommended the coveted second read, and Margaret began suggesting names of editors and agents. I did get an offer of representation from an editor-turned-agent, but then she decided not to be an agent after all, which was a disappointment. But also from Margaret’s suggestions, I found my first agent from a large London agency. She later sold two of my books (Uphill All the Way – now A Home in the Sun; and Family Matters, now Want to Know a Secret?) to small publishers.
I won the Katie Fforde Bursary while still on the New Writers’ Scheme, which was an enormous boost for me. Kate Fforde awarded the bursary to someone she felt was ‘knocking on the door’ of having a novel published. Winning it not only gave me something great to put on my CV but paid for me to attend the conference in a year when I don’t think I would have afforded it otherwise.
The conferences cost more than the parties, and I used to tell myself that I’d only attend if I could sell X number of short stories, as my earnings were slim from short stories and serials … and workshops and columns and appraisals and about any other fee-paying opportunity related to writing. But the scrimping was worth it, as the conferences gave me something – not just workshops or meeting editors and agents, but something that’s proved invaluable: a can-do attitude. Multi-published authors were in the lunch queue, in the bar, in the sessions and even in the Ladies, and they looked just like you or me. There was no golden aura or magic wand, they’d just taken their talent and worked hard on it, written great books and persisted until they got them into the right hands. If they could do it, I could do it. And I have.
I made the first contact with Transita, who published my first novel, at an RNA conference. The editors attended for the very reason of starting a new list and thought it was a good place to meet the right authors. That’s not just luck – that’s preparation meeting opportunity. I’ve carried on taking opportunities and now I have around twenty-five published novels to my name and have been published in thirteen different languages.
The structure of the RNA at the time was that you must be a full member in order to serve on the committee. That sounds like a dubious honour to some, I’m sure, because it was unpaid, just as most positions in the RNA are voluntary today. But apart from allowing me to give back to an Association that had helped me so much, I made amazing contacts and had fabulous experiences. OK, so being Minutes Secretary was just an admin post, but I also edited the RNA’s two anthologies of short stories and rubbed shoulders with big-name authors.
Being a committee member meant I could always find a reason to bowl up to an industry professional at a party or conference and begin a conversation. I made use of these conversations when I later submitted to that editor or agent. We met at the RNA’s Winter Party when I showed you to your table. Shameless? Yep. Embarrassed? Nope.
I progressed as far as vice chair but didn’t move into the chair as, in the hell of bereavement, knew I was no longer the right person for the job. There would have been a real risk of me letting the Association down with a few choice words if someone was rude to me. Actually … more of a certainty than a risk.
Notwithstanding my leaving the committee, in the RNA I have found my community and my tribe. I’ve found some of my best friends; been given contacts that led to tutoring opportunities; I’ve benefitted from two bursaries and, later, sponsored two. I’m proud to have been a member for approaching a quarter of a century.
I love the RNA’s awards and not just because I won one and have been nominated several times. I just enjoy the way they represent excellence in our best-selling genre and bring so many people together to enjoy it too. I didn’t have to be a member to enter, but if I’d never found the RNA I don’t believe I would have progressed far enough in my career to be considered.
My Journey to Presidency..
Earlier this year, I was honoured and amazed to be asked to be the President of the Romantic Novelists’ Association. I honestly thought that chair Jean Fullerton was sounding me out about one of my friends and had a ‘Who? Me?‘ moment when the penny dropped. I asked questions about the role – such as whether I’d still be able to enter the awards! – but I wasn’t long in accepting. I admire the current board for the way they provide more and more for the membership, such as the stream for published authors in the latest conference and the online events for all, but maintain what’s always been great about us, such as the New Writers’ Scheme.
Happily for me, the president doesn’t do much work. Wafting around at parties and conferences and taking on the occasional enjoyable task such as handing out an award or looking after an honoured guest is what I’ve done all along anyway. I don’t represent the membership or the board – I represent the Association.
When writers of romantic novels ask if they should be a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, I always say yes.
The RNA promotes romantic fiction. We are stronger as a body than each of us is alone, and the RNA speaks out for us all.
