For those new to my “what if” blogs: every two weeks, I post a new “what if” question. These are questions that are designed to give readers insight into how writers think, and to give writers a chance to play. (If you’d like a more thorough explanation, please check out my first post for Deadline Dames.) I start each post with a recap of the previous question, as well as my own answer to the previous question, and then it’s on to the current question. Let your imagination fly!

Previous question: What if you could meet anyone who ever lived? Who would you want to meet, and what would you talk about?

The first person who popped into my mind was Queen Elizabeth I. I’ve read a fascinating biography about her, plus biographies of many other women of her era (Mary Queen of Scots; the wives of Henri VIII; Mary Tudor; Jane Grey). What fascinates me about Elizabeth is that she was able to hold such great power as a woman, in an age where women were treated as though they weren’t quite human. Her reign was one of the longest and most successful in British history, even though the odds were heavily stacked against her when she took the throne.

Elizabeth was the daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. She was a creature of scandal even before her father had her mother beheaded, since Henry divorced his first wife for Anne Boleyn. Once her mother was beheaded, Elizabeth was declared illegitimate, and it seemed her chances for power and respect were forever doomed. When I think about the profound effect that having divorced parents has had on my life–divorced parents who at least made an attempt to keep their divorce from traumatizing me–I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her. She was so much a reminder of her mothers’ flaws that Henry basically disowned her. I would like to ask her how she survived that, how she managed to maintain some sense of self-esteem.

Even when Henry VIII died, Elizabeth’s family problems were far from over. When Mary Tudor took the throne, there was a constant threat that she would have her half-sister executed. Mary was the daughter of Catherine of Aragon, Henry’s first wife. Mary was fanatically loyal to her mother, who never acknowledged that the King divorced her, despite the procession of new wives that followed. Part of that loyalty was in following her mother’s faith of Catholicism, while Elizabeth was a confirmed Protestant–as, by this time, was most of England. Her beliefs and her birth made Elizabeth a thorn in Mary’s side. She survived Mary’s reign partially because she was able to renounce her faith–or, a least, keep her views private. There are some who criticize her for hypocrisy or weakness because she did this, but to me it seems a wise and well thought-out decision. I don’t know if it was very difficult for her, or whether the necessities of the situation made it a guilt-free change, but I’d be very interested in hearing what went through her head at that time.

When Elizabeth finally took the throne, the odds were still against her. The people had suffered greatly under Mary’s reign, in part because of Mary’s unfortunate marriage to the Catholic King of Spain. Everyone assumed that Elizabeth, too, would marry, and that her husband would be the true power. At the time, it was positively unheard of for a woman not to marry, and for a Queen, unthinkable! But Elizabeth had learned from her half-sister’s error and knew that her only security lay in remaining unmarried. Throughout the early part of her reign (and possibly much longer–I don’t remember how long this went on) she entertained proposals of marriage from all over the world. Her method was to draw out the consideration of each proposal for as long as possible, leading people to believe that one day she would actually marry. It was a positively brilliant strategy. The fact that she actually considered proposals kept her from being considered a confirmed spinster–and kept many a political advantage intact–while the fact that she didn’t actually marry kept her in power and in control.

There’s been all kind of speculation as to where Elizabeth’s heart was. Did she love anyone? There have been books and movies imagining her deep love for men she couldn’t marry. Did she consciously avoid getting married–and was it her plan all along–or did it just happen that way? If, indeed, she was in love with someone, how could she live with the decision not to marry him? It’s the kind of issue that fascinates me when I think about people who have such great power and responsibility: how do you balance that power and responsibility with your own needs as a human being? I can’t imagine how you make decisions in that situation.

I write urban fantasy because I love writing about strong, independent women. Although Elizabeth I didn’t physically kick butt like Morgan Kingsley does, I still think she was an extraordinary woman and is a good example to remember when writing a female character who triumphs against the odds.

What if question # 9: I thought I’d do something different this time and ask my readers to come up with some possible “what-if” topics for the future. Leave your question ideas in the comments. I can’t guarantee I’ll use them in future blogs, but if I do, I’ll credit the poster(s) who came up with the question.

For those new to my “what if” blogs: Every two weeks, I post a new “what if” question. These are questions that are designed to give readers insight into how writers think, and to give writers a chance to play. (If you’d like a more thorough explanation, please check out my first post for Deadline Dames.) I start each post with a recap of the previous question, as well as my own answer to the previous question, and then it’s on to the current question. Let your imagination fly!

The “what if” question for my last entry was: What if you were going to be reincarnated as a person with an extraordinary talent? What would you like that talent to be?

For me, that talent would have to be the ability to sing. In my younger days, I used to be a decent singer. I took voice lessons all through high school, and was part of the Duke Chorale in college. Later on, I was a member of the Triangle Metro Chorus, a women’s barbershop chorus. I was good enough to be a backup soloist, but my voice was hardly extraordinary. Much though I loved to sing, I can’t say that I was particularly talented.

These days, I’d love to have the voice I had in my teens and twenties. I’m not sure exactly what happened to my voice, but I suspect my problems have something to do with allergies. My “head voice”–the voice one uses to hit high notes–is practically non-existent. Since I’m a soprano, that pretty much ruins my ability to sing. I mourn that loss, even though my talent wasn’t extraordinary.

Music is one of my great loves. It’s easy for me to be moved to tears by a particularly beautiful song. (I feel like such a dork when that happens, but I feel such a visceral connection to music that I can’t help it.) To be able to sing–and I mean really sing–would be a great joy. Music can be so expressive, in some ways even more so than words.

If I were to be granted that kind of talent, there’s a very specific “flavor” of voice I would like to have. Since voices are so hard to describe in words, I’ll give you an example of the kind of voice I mean: Hayley Westenra. If you go to her website, you can hear snippets of some of her songs and get the feel for what her voice is like. I prefer her more classical numbers to the pop numbers, mainly because they seem to highlight the beauty of her voice more. (Scroll down the list of songs and listen to “Bist Du Bei Mir” for a great example. That’s a song I, myself, sang when I was taking voice lessons, and I’d have loved to have sounded even remotely like her.) When I listen to a voice like that, I become completely mesmerized, the sound resonating through my body and my mind.

Here’s the thing about singing, though: you don’t come out of the womb with the ability to sing like Hayley Westenra. Learning to harness your talent–whatever level that talent may be–takes a lot of work. As I said before, my voice was not extraordinary, but it was decent. However, it wasn’t even at the level of “decent” before I started taking voice lessons. I could always carry a tune, but that was about it. Through those lessons–along with lots and lots or practice and hard work–I got to the point where I was good enough to be a backup soloist in an excellent college chorus. But much as I loved music and loved singing, I grew tired of the hard work. Maybe if my talent had been greater, all the work would have seemed worth the effort. It’s hard to know. But with the talent at my disposal, I eventually found that taking lessons and singing in choruses was more effort than it was worth to me, so I quit.

I sometimes regret having quit. I can’t help wondering if continuing to train my voice would have saved it. I was already struggling with my upper register when I quit, but at least I still had an upper register. Still, as with any of the arts, if you want to be great at singing, you have to really, really love it. I loved singing, but not enough to keep working at it with my ordinary talent. Contrast that to how I threw myself into my writing, continuing to work at it despite years and years of rejections. (For those of you not familiar with my story, my “first” published novel, Watchers in the Night, was actually the 18th novel I wrote in a 16-year quest for publication.) I was driven to be a writer, and I was never truly driven to be a singer. So if I were to be granted that extraordinary talent, I suspect it would have to be so extraordinary that I didn’t need to work at it too hard, or that talent would go to waste.

What if question #8: What if you could meet anyone who ever lived? Who would you want to meet, and what would you talk about?

For those new to my “what if” blogs: Every two weeks, I post a new “what if” question. These are questions that are designed to give readers insight into how writers think, and to give writers a chance to play. (If you’d like a more thorough explanation, please check out my first post for Deadline Dames.) I start each post with a recap of the previous question, as well as my own answer to the previous question, and then it’s on to the current question. Let your imagination fly!

The “what if” question in my last entry was: What if you could go back in time and change one bad decision that you’ve made? What would you change, and how would that change affect your life?

I have no trouble picking which decision I’d want to change! That would be the decision to stay with my first boyfriend for four long years. I met him when I was in college, and he was everything I thought I wanted in a man. He was good looking. He was smart. He was witty. And he was extremely extroverted, which was an especially attractive feature to an introvert such as myself. When we hung out with other people, I could always count on S___ to carry the conversation, which saved me from the inconvenience of small talk.

But S___ had a dark side that it took me next to forever to recognize. He was a liar, and he was unbelievably selfish. Everything in our relationship had to go exactly the way he wanted it to, and my feelings really didn’t count. I can’t tell you how many times we had incidents where he was supposed to show up somewhere and would arrive hours late. I, of course, assumed he was dead by the side of the road somewhere, because he never bothered to call. And it didn’t matter how many times it happened, how many times he saw how devastated with worry his lateness made me; the next time we were supposed to meet, if he had something he’d prefer to do first, he’d go ahead and do it. (Sometimes, I wish I could go back and hit myself with Miss Snark’s clue stick!)

The big lie he told me (and I’m sure there are lots of smaller ones) was that he would one day marry me. There was always some condition that had to be met first, but over the course of four years, he continually promised that the proposal was coming. But I think he knew from Day 1 that it wasn’t. He was a first-generation American from a Pakistani family who was never, ever going to accept me. And he was never, ever going to defy his family.

At the time, I stayed with him because I honestly didn’t believe I would find anybody else who would love me like he did. (I was right: I didn’t–I found someone to love me like I deserved to be loved instead.) I can forgive myself for staying with him the first couple of years, when I was so head over heels in love I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. But the last two years of our relationship were one conflict after another, with my heart continually being broken. I wish I had found the courage to leave him sooner, as soon as I knew deep down inside that it was never going to work out. I think I would have been a lot happier during the rest of my twenties if my heart hadn’t been so thoroughly trampled.

Here’s the rub, though: if my heart hadn’t been bludgeoned half to death when it was, would I have appreciated what I have now with my husband as much as I do? I doubt it. I might have taken him for granted and never realized how wonderful a spouse he is, or how lucky I am to have him. So maybe I’m actually better off now than I would have been. Maybe the four years of hell were worth it. But man, I wouldn’t want to live through them again!

Incidentally, I think that part of what I love about the tortured heroes (and heroines) in romance novels is that their tortured pasts do indeed make them appreciate their Ms./Mr. Right more when they finally get together. In romance novels, those traumatic pasts are often the key to getting the protagonists together, so that there’s a sense that the suffering was necessary for the ultimate happy ending. Suffering often doesn’t lead to such happy endings in real life, but it’s nice to think that every once in a while, it has its purpose.

What if question # 7: What if you were going to be reincarnated as a person with an extraordinary talent? What would you like that talent to be? (Writers: Please pick something other than writing–that one’s just too obvious. LOL)

P.S. Please don’t forget about the Brenda Novak auction to support diabetes research! (See the post below for more information.)

For those new to my “what if” blogs: Every two weeks, I post a new “what if” question. These are questions that are designed to give readers insight into how writers think, and to give writers a chance to play. (If you’d like a more thorough explanation, please check out my first post for Deadline Dames.) I start each post with a recap of the previous question, as well as my own answer to the previous question, and then it’s on to the current question. Let your imagination fly!

The “what if” question in my last entry was: What if you could change places with anyone in the world for one day? Who would you change places with and why? Do you think you’d want to be that person for more than one day? Or would you rather just be you?

When I first answered this question for my dad, the person I said I’d want to change places with for a day was the late Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. What I always found so captivating about him was his incredible enthusiasm for his work. I mean, I love my job, but he seemed to take loving his job to a whole new level. He was so over-the-top in his enthusiasm that I’m sure some people found him annoying, but I loved him.

Part of his appeal was that he was such an adventurer, and there’s a part of me that’s very attracted to the idea of adventure. I’ve done some pretty crazy things in my life, although never on the kind of scale that Irwin did. I traveled solo for the first time when I was sixteen. Destination? Zaire! (If you want to read about that adventure–and believe me, it was quite an adventure, the kind of thing you might accuse me of making up–click here.) I’ve traveled to all seven continents. I’ve toured the jungles of Nepal on elephant back. I’ve visited Egypt in August (not recommended!)

Despite some of my more adventurous trips, I am generally an armchair adventurer. I always think about risks, sometimes overanalyzing them to death. I could never be even a quarter as daring as Irwin was. But I still find the fantasy appealing, and love to watch shows and read books about people doing amazing (foolish?) things.

When I originally picked Steve Irwin as the person I wanted to change places with for a day, I was not yet published, and was still in the mental space wherein my eventual publication seemed like an impossible dream. I also thought that once I got published, I would magically develop the self-confidence I’d long been lacking. (I also hadn’t yet met a lot of published authors who could disabuse me of that fanciful notion!) Now that I have been published and I realize how wrong I was about the magical self-confidence, I think what I’d most like would be to change places with a mega-bestselling author, such as Nora Roberts, for a day. But probably not for the reasons you might imagine.

After my question-and-answer period with my dad, but before I sold my first novel, I did get a chance to meet quite a few published authors, and almost immediately, I realized that they weren’t much more self-confident than I was. It was when a friend of mine who was a New York Timeserer bestselling author started talking about “when I become an established author” that I had my first inkling that all would not be sunshine and roses once I sold. But no matter how much I talked to these other authors, no matter that I understood intellectually that being an author would never be easy, there was some little part of me that always hoped it would at least become easier.

Let me tell you from my now “vast” experience: it does not become easier. The more successful I am, the more pressure I feel and the more aggressive the doubts. And yet even now, I occasionally find myself thinking that if I were someday to hit the bestseller lists, some magic will occur and . . . Yes, I can stop my thought processes as soon as I notice myself going there. But the fact remains that the kernel of hope refuses to die, which is why I’d like to change places with one of those megastars for a day. Because I suspect that if I did, I’d find out that deep down inside, they’re just as insecure as I am, even if they’re the kind of person who can hide it well in public. Maybe then I’d be able to let myself off the hook and stop expecting myself to conquer my doubts.

In the end, I’d have to say that I’m happy to be me. I like my life, and it’s the only life I’m interested in living. But the idea of peeking in on someone else’s life for a day does have its appeal. (Maybe it’s the writer’s curiosity in me–after all, we spend much of our time imagining what it would be like to be someone else.) I’m not sure even visiting the head of a mega-bestseller would make me stop doubting myself, but maybe it would make me be less annoyed at myself for the doubts.

What if question # 6: What if you could go back in time and change one bad decision that you’ve made? What would you change, and how would that change affect your life?

For those of you who will be attending the Romantic Times convention in Orlando this week: Several of us Dames will be there, including myself. If you see me, please come by and introduce yourself. I’ll give away autographed cover flats of Speak of the Devil to the first three people who introduce themselves and tell me they read Deadline Dames.