As the first draft of Heavy Ice lumbers towards completion, there are things I begin to realise. One of them is that I could write flowery declarations of love when I was fourteen; but now I am forty-one (or at least, I will be tomorrow) and I have a ton more experience and yet writing love scenes is much, much harder. It’s not fair that it’s this way, but at least it’s rewarding when it works.
Also, I am in a desperate state of wanting people to love my heroine, and yet knowing that when writers go on about how much they want people to love their characters it tends to make me take against that character out of sheer cussedness.
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Ankaret Wells 
Happy birthday! Hope you have a lovely day and that your birthday cake is not flavoured with chutney.
Thank you! I have not seen the birthday cake yet, but hopefully no chutney was involved. 🙂
I think the problem with writers who want readers to love their heroine is that they make her utterly perfect in every way, sweet to the point where another one of your teeth drops out every time she appears on the page. I can’t see you doing that. You’ll make a real person, so not everyone *will* like her. But the right sort of people will like her!
*squints at heroine*
*squints at concept of utter perfection and sweetness*
Yean, those two things do not go together so much. 🙂 Thank you for the reassurance!