My RNA Conference 2023 Diary: During

As this is my first time attending Romantic Novelists’ Association conference, I don’t quite know what to expect. I’m excited – but also anxious. The journey from Glasgow to London is long enough that I can read a romance on the way, which settles my nerves. Better yet, my dear friend Calli Arena has flown in from France – so I meet her at London Victoria station and together we get the tube to South Kensington. We got to know one another through a writing forum years ago, and I’d never have seriously considered writing romance without Calli’s encouragement, so it feels right that we’re embarking on this adventure together.

Reading on the train

Leonie Mack meets us both outside the bar where the early arrivals have gathered. She was the one who seriously encouraged Calli to write romance. And this is exactly what the romance community is all about: authors, mostly women, supporting each other to grow as writers. I feel less anxious for the warmth of her greeting – plus, my gin and lemonade helps!

Inside, everyone is just as welcoming. I meet social media mutuals, women from an online writing group, and women who aren’t yet friends but soon will be. Our shared interest in romance is a unifying force, bringing everyone together. There are no strangers when you all love the same thing. I share YA sapphic romances with a writer who thinks her teen daughter could benefit from the positive representation (my mission in life is connecting people with stories they’ll love), and get to know the others.

Lots of people there have read the Before chapter to my conference diary, and I spend the weekend being greeted with variations of: “Oh, you’re the one who wrote about the strap-on!” There are worse things to be known for, I suppose. And I started writing fiction seriously because, as well as feeling compelled to tell sexy heartfelt romances, I desperately want to broaden the variety of lesbian representation found on the page.

Every aspect of conference helps me towards this goal. And from the opening session it’s clear that pluralistic representation is something that many of the editors, writers, and agents speaking feel strongly about too.

The Mills & BoonMills & Boon team particularly impress me. They’re majority women of colour, and all deeply knowledgeable about the industry. I’m thrilled to learn a new term from them: Halal Romance. Mills & Boon are actively working to be more inclusive of Muslim readers by providing authentic representation. And looking at the covers of all the books on their display is a revelation. There are dark-skinned people, Hijabis, interracial couples, and even a Black lesbian romance!

Mills & Boon have had a special place in my heart since publishing their first lesbian romance – Melissa Lenhardt’s The Secret Of You And Me – back in 2020. A fondness which grew to love when they released her next novel, Run Baby Run. And it’s so exciting to see this move towards pluralistic racial representation too. Ten years ago, none of this would have been imaginable. But now Britain’s oldest and biggest romance publisher is a driving force behind this wonderful cultural shift.

Friday’s sessions are very useful. How to Be a Happy and Successful Author, run by writing coach Sophie Hannah, is nothing short of revolutionary. Though writers are well versed in the power of how we frame a story, not enough of us think consciously about how to frame the narrative of our own lives and careers. Sophie points out that having negative thoughts is not a problem – it’s the meaning we ascribe to them which has negative consequences.

Having been struggling with anxiety and depression for nearly 20 years, and been frustrated when the resultant self-doubt gets in the way of my writing, Sophie’s lessons about choosing our thoughts carry a life-changing magic. I leave determined to do optimistic guessing about my future – which becomes significantly easier after my 1-2-1s with industry professionals.

My RNA conference brochure & nametag

Next up I go to Books and the City’s session on pitching – Hook, Line, and Sinker: Attention Seekers. The panel consists of Sara-Jade Virtue, Clare Hey, and Molly Crawford – all experts in the publishing and marketing of books. They explain that voice, tension, and a compelling narrative question combined make first lines intriguing, and offer examples to drive the point home.

The facilitators also give out chocolates to those of us brave enough to risk offering our own first lines and pitches up for critique. I’m taken by their description of editors reading forensically, searching for details which prove all the potential they see in a pitch will be carried forward to readers paying £8.99 to find out what happens next.

That evening I go along to the quiz, and join a team of women from Ireland, Europe, and even Australia. Our name? The International Barbies. And the quiz is great fun, though I quickly realise that the trivia I’d looked up about contemporary heterosexual romances beforehand, not wanting to let my team down, is useless.

We have a picture round. We have a literature round, naming the characters living at iconic fictional homes and the books they’re from. We have an animal round, where I learn from the Aussies that koalas have three vaginas and are extremely prone to chlamydia (if I have to go through the rest of my life carrying that knowledge, dear reader, then so do you). We have a music round, naming classic romance anthems and the films they’re from – including Shrek! And – most importantly – we have an excellent time.

My BookFunnel library. (No judging!)

Saturday is a long day, but wonderful too. Hybrid author Carrie Elks outlines her marketing system, and does an excellent job of explaining adverts – which she describes as “the introvert’s way to sell books.” Music to my ears! She explains the rationale behind reader magnets – the free short stories or bonus epilogues that get readers by signing up to your mailing list. And the BookFunnel promotions, which I’ve discovered many a fantastic sapphic indie author through.

Carrie also demonstrates effective ways of making your backlist work for you, which I take careful note of to avoid forgetting when the time comes. But my main takeaway from this session is that it’s high time I stop dicking around and put together a proper mailing list. A short-term goal which I’m sharing here for the sake of accountability.

Afterwards I go to the AGM, which ends up being fascinating. Here I learn lots about the RNA. Our Chair, Jean Fullerton, first joined 20 years ago under the New Writers’ Scheme – she’s now the author of 19 books, which is a ringing endorsement of how far the NWS can take you. The RNA formed in 1961, and started the NWS the following year, making it the RNA’s oldest activity as an organisation. And I’m thrilled to hear about plans for a New Writers’ Scheme Plus, to support early career authors after publication.

There is a meeting for NWS members, but it’s too close to my next 1-2-1, so I go to wait there instead. This decision works out remarkably well – my Industry Professional’s early too, and she invites me in so we can have extra time together. By the end of this meeting I’m 3 for 3 with full manuscript requests, and am ascending to cloud nine as I go back upstairs for Julia Boggio’s thoroughly excellent session on podcasting. It genuinely hadn’t occurred to me that my interracial lesbian romance would be so in demand.

Next I go to Anna Caig’s Explore Your Author Brand. And this is one of my absolute favourite sessions. I’d been wary of branding as a concept, thinking of it as something corporate and soulless – exactly the kind of career track I’d hoped to avoid as a writer. But Anna helps me to understand that authenticity can and should be at the heart of an author brand.

And as she talks I realise that what I do with Lou’s Reviews – posts where I review mostly sapphic and #OwnVoices books – perfectly fits her vision of branding. I started this project because I’m a voracious reader and have a deep love of literary criticism. And Anna encourages us to use passion projects relating to our own work as regular sources of content.

The following session is the one I find most challenging. Sarah Ferguson (Duchess of York) and Marguerite Kaye discuss their “collabor-writing” process. And while I’m a staunch republican, opposed to colonial and class hierarchies at the monarchy’s foundation, it would be closed-minded not to attend a session about an aspect of the craft which fascinates me just because I don’t agree with one of the speakers about an issue unrelated to the subject at hand. So, I go along. And it’s obvious that Sarah has a deep love of romance.

I ask her a carefully worded question about how, in the not-so-distant past, it would have been seen as scandalous for a member of the royal family to publish romance with Mills & Boon. And I feel real empathy for Sarah as she describes how the ‘Bad Fergie’ sells countless papers.

But I also feel uncomfortable with aspects of what’s said – particularly around ghostwriting. Sarah strongly denies that Her Heart for a Compass is ghostwritten, objecting to media coverage that describes Marguerite as her ghostwriter. But (in my opinion) the process she describes fits that definition:

“A ghostwriter is hired to write works that officially credit another person as the author… Usually, a ghostwriter won’t be credited at all. But if the credited author does want to shed light on their ghostwriter’s work, they may acknowledge them as a researcher, research assistant, or cowriter, often at the end of the book.”

– Rachel Meltzer, What Is a Ghostwriter?

On the front cover and spine of the novel, only “Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York” is credited as an author. Marguerite’s name is nowhere to be found, save for a discreet note in the flyleaf. Full copyright belongs to Sarah Ferguson, “with thanks to Marguerite Kaye.” All of which is standard for ghostwritten books.

With this in mind, I also feel uncomfortable with Sarah’s repeated use of the term “trailblazing” to describe her creative partnership with Marguerite. Her Heart for a Compass is a best-seller, which means they’re definitely doing something right. But romance authors have been writing collaboratively for decades.

Back in the 1980s, Jane Traies and Jacky Bratton began writing as Jay Taverner – and in exactly the same way Sarah describes her calls with Marguerite, telling each other bits of the story over extended conversations and sharing in every aspect of its creation (though not necessarily 50/50). They wrote four remarkable books, the Brynsquilver novels, together. A more contemporary example would be T.B. Markinson and Miranda MacLeod. This dynamic duo have co-written eleven outstanding novels. Again, with a similar methodology to what Sarah outlines.

I could offer countless other examples of co-written romances – sapphic and otherwise. That’s not intended as a dig at Sarah – her enthusiasm is sincere, and it’s clear she’s taking this new venture seriously. But it’s important to recognise our own work as part of a wider canon, and acknowledge authors who paved the way. Especially when they’re indie or published by a small press. Romance writers get so little respect from the mainstream that it’s crucial we give it to each other. I’m glad Sarah and Marguerite have found a strategy that works for them, and look forward to reading their book, but hope that – in future – Sarah will situate their work as part of a longstanding tradition.

Lastly, I go to Amy Burge and Katie Deane’s session on Researching Romance. People can perceive academia as dry, but I laughed more in this talk than any other. Amy researched Sheik romances in the early 2000s – Mills & Boon published over 300, and this trope enjoyed a surge in popularity post-9/11, fetishisation fitting into the wider rise of Islamophobia. Of the 57 Sheik books Amy studied, 40 involved abduction. We’re invited to ask questions throughout the session, and I can’t resist inquiring whether these are Stockholm Syndrome stories. Amy explains that the hero the kidnapping the heroine is framed as ‘good abduction’, often contrasted with ‘bad abduction’ by the Bad Sheik antagonist.

My brain needs to reboot while processing this information. On one level it’s funny, but on the other this romanticising of male violence against women is a big part of why I spent so many years in denial about my love for reading and writing romance. The sexism ingrained in these stories is a real problem. It encourages women to eroticise our own abuse rather than recognising this behaviour as harmful. Still, while I’m deeply concerned about the straight community’s wellbeing, it’s encouraging that romance is being recognised as worthy of academic research; culturally significant.

The spoils of victory

That evening I get dressed up and go to the Gala. Despite a disaster with the vegetarian catering, it ends up being one of the best nights of my life. I eat with Catherine Tinley and a group of other upcoming writers whom she’s nurtured. One of our own, Maria, wins second place in the Elizabeth Goudge Prize. And that’s the magical thing about the RNA conference: everyone is genuinely excited by seeing other writers succeed. We also find out that the International Barbies won the quiz, which floors me.

The disco is incredible from start to finish. Our DJ plays a mix of ‘80s tunes and classics from popular romance films. I’m ecstatic that he includes Feels Like I’m in Love, by Kelly Marie – from the iconic lesbian romcom Imagine Me & You.

And though the workshops are over for the day, the learning doesn’t stop. On the dancefloor I make three key discoveries:

• The Irish version of the Slosh is different from the Scottish version of the Slosh.
• Choreography to The Nutbush, by Tina Turner, courtesy of the Australian girls.
• While I can still “make it to the floor” for the Cha Cha Slide’s “how low can you go?”, getting back up again is much harder now than it was in primary school. Alas, youth is but fleeting.

I exercise restraint at the party, sticking to a couple of drinks, because in the morning I have two more 1-2-1s. And I’m grateful to wake up hangover free. Especially given I need to pack all the stuff I brought plus the eleven novels I’ve acquired into my suitcase before checking out from our accommodation. I have to sit on my case to make it zip, but the victory – when it comes – is sweet. I’m far too Scottish to leave free books behind.

Packing my books…

Both my remaining 1-2-1s go extremely well, resulting in full manuscript requests across the board! Three of my Industry Professionals also ask about what else I’ve got planned, and make requests relating to that pitch. I’m profoundly grateful to Catherine Tinley who, the evening before I travelled down, ran a Zoom to help us prepare for out 1-2-1s. She stressed the importance of having another pitch prepared, and I spent the journey to London refining it. At this point it’s fair to say Catherine has earned a place in the acknowledgements section of every romance I’ll ever write.

The remaining sessions are wonderful too. Ruth Long and Karina Coldrick’s session on Balancing Research in Your Writing contains a multitude of practical tips. As a writer, I’ve come to realise that time is an incredibly precious resource – how I use it determines how many stories I’ll manage to tell in my lifetime, and I’m terrified of dying before sharing all the books I currently have planned with the world. So, learning how to become more efficient feels like a gift.

Kath McGurl’s session on Writing Dual Timelines is mind-blowingly good. Her presentation answers every question making me nervous about a planned project, and many other questions I didn’t realise I needed the answer to. Based on the strength of her materials and the depth of her knowledge, I encourage Kath to publish a non-fiction book on this subject – there are plenty of craft books for nearly every aspect of writing, but not this.

A Laird for the Governess

Last – but by no means least – I go to Catherine’s session on Time Management. Catherine has run some of the best writing workshops I’ve ever attended (and I’ve been to hundreds), so I’d gladly go to anything she’s teaching. But this subject is particularly helpful because, as well as wanting to hone my craft, I want to become a more efficient writer. And Catherine drops truthbomb after truthbomb in the most constructive, encouraging way possible. She reminds everyone that we’re not hobbyists; we’re sitting here in this room because of a strong commitment to writing.

What Catherine says about setting and maintaining boundaries so that others take our writing seriously too, it resonates. This is the aspect of time management I struggle with most. I’m very lucky to live at home, otherwise I’d never have been able to afford to take this gamble on writing romance. But being here makes it incredibly difficult to resist the siren call of B&M or lunch at the garden centre as and when these outings are suggested. That being said, if I don’t take my routine as a writer seriously, how can I expect my family to do the same?

Fitting given our theme, Catherine winds the session up on time and gives out copies of her books. As they’re set in Scotland, I’m unable to resist – suitcase be damned. Then we head into the lecture hall for our closing session.

It’s incredibly poignant. I’ve never experienced anything like the RNA conference. Writing can be a lonely process, and publishing at times a cutthroat industry, as huge numbers of writers compete for the attention of agents and publishers. But nobody I’ve spoken to came to conference with the scarcity mentality, fearing that another person’s success must come at their own expense. Delegates have spent all weekend cheering each other’s victories, whether it’s positive feedback or a full manuscript request. Throughout conference, from start to finish, women lifted each other up.

I’ve loved everything about my time here, and am sorry it has come to a close. But I’m leaving armed with fresh knowledge and motivation, buoyed by new friendships. And I’ve also taken significant steps down the path to publication. Now it’s time to knuckle down and complete the draft of the novel I pitched in my 1-2-1s. And while I’ll miss being at conference, I’ll definitely be back next year – with a bigger suitcase!