Lynn Turner's Blog

If you think three years of French in high school prepared me for writing this book, you’re wrong. Lol.

But it was so much fun learning allll the profanity and slang for this story! I tried to give contextual clues on the page, but I thought it would be fun to translate the naughty/fun/sweet bits for you, and a few conversational words/phrases that aren’t as recognizable as “bonjour” or “merci.” Put on those raspberry berets, because here we go!

French – English translations from Pas De Deux: A Dance For Two
alors – right, well, so

allez – come on (used to cheer someone up, or to show annoyance)

allons-y – let’s go

arrêtes – stop

bâtard – bastard

bichette – little doe

bon – good

bon sang – damn it

bordel – goddamn it

ça va? – how’s it going? how are you?

chais pas, derived from Je ne sais pas – I don’t know

chatte – a woman’s nethers

chienne – bitch (as in female dog, not an epithet)

choupinette – sweetie/ sweetheart

connard – ass/ asshole

cul – butt/ bottom/ ass

d’accord – okay

Dieu – God

en fait – in fact

enfin – well

espèce d’idiot – idiot

étoile – star

grâce à toi – thanks to you

jouir pour moi – come for me/ squirt for me (dear God, how embarrassing, hahaha)

Les Étoiles – The Stars (The title of the elite 17 principal dancers of The Paris Opera Ballet)

ma moitié – my half

mamour, derived from “mon amour” – my love

merde – shit

minette – kitten/ pussy cat

nom de Dieu – for God’s sake/ for crying out loud

oh mon Dieu – oh my God

petite – little, small, tiny

putain – fuck

putain de bordel de merde – holy fucking shit/ fuck fuck fuck

There is also a bit of “New Yorican” Spanish in the story. It’s what Puerto Rican New York natives lovingly call their unique version of Spanish. These are used less often in the book, and are translated/ given context on the page.

Do you enjoy bilingual characters in stories? What’s the last story you read featuring more than one language? I’m trying to add more to my TBR. I highly recommend Mia Sosa’s books to start!

Alexis Daria’s dance off series is really fun:

 

Happy Reading!

 

XOXOXO

~Lynn

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Cover reveal and giveaway!

Coming May 11!

Pas De Deux is an emotional, funny,

and sometimes dark romance that plunges a black ballerina from Paris

into the intriguing world of Broadway’s musical theater.

Want to hear from me when Pas De Deux goes live? 

Enter the Giveaway!

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Pas De Deux: A Dance For Two (A standalone ballet romance)

Release Date: May 11th

Cover Design: Lynn Turner, with help from Arisa Creative, Inc.

Add on Goodreads!

Add Pas De Deux to these Listopia lists on Goodreads:

Dancers in Romance

Romances with Ballerina Heroines

Fiction Featuring a Male Ballet Dancer

Black romance Heroines in Contemporary Romance

Best Interracial Contemporary Romance

Blurb

It’s said the artist is born of a damaged soul…

Wilhelmina Allende is a prima ballerina. When tragedy turns her beloved Paris into a gilded cage, she jumps at the chance to work with one of the most prolific choreographers she’s ever seen. But Zack’s style is way out of her comfort zone. So is his teaching method. And his humor. And his everything. He’s a charming little connard. It’s hard not to like him. Merde. What has she gotten herself into?

Zachary Coen’s first musical is opening on Broadway. Much like his life, it’s anything but conventional, so hiring Mina is simply out of the question. She’s too…classical. Too perfect. She’s all wrong for the role. Then he meets her in person and sees her cracks. Her broken pieces. How unique and beautiful each one is. And he can’t help but notice how her edges seem to fit his…perfectly.

Just when teaming up seems to be working, the monsters they’ve kept hidden threaten to rip it all apart.

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I HAVE SO MUCH EXCITE!

I don’t think I can properly relay how obsessive and challenging it is for authors to choose stock photos for their protagonists.

It. is. hard. 

I pored over thousands of images, looking for The Ones. Mostly, the guys matching Zack’s description looked like jerks (too vain) or serial killers (I’m pretty sure it’s the eyes, lol). The girls matching Mina’s description…did not exist.

I was ready to cancel my subscription to this massively popular, oft-used stock photo site, when I tried again last night and OMG AND SQUEE-EST OF SQUEES: I FOUND THEM!

So, without further rambling ado, meet my babies.

::Sings at the top of her lungs::

“It’s been a long time,

I shouldn’t have left you,

without a dope beat to step to.”

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First, that’s not my computer…and those aren’t my hands…but how cool is it that we now have stock photos of brown girls doing alllll the things?  Still a long way to go until there is adequate representation for everyone on stock sites, but I dig this!

Second, aaaahhhhh!!! Where has the time gone? Or rather, what have I been doing with said time? Besides, oh, you know, releasing a whole book… It’s the holy trinity of S words: sweet, sexy and smart.

Gobsmacked. 

I like that word. It sounds completely ridiculous, conjures cartoon levels of violence (think Wile E. Coyote being flattened by a steamroller), and makes my three-year-old snicker.

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With synonyms like flabbergasted, stunned, astounded, and speechless, it’s also packed with meaning; completely not ridiculous meaning, and it made me want to unpack it with a story.

Without a doubt, I knew that story would start with love at first sight. It’s one of my favorite tropes, and after growing up on movies like Pretty Woman, Sleepless in Seattle, Ever After, At First Sight, and Serendipity, I grew fond of identifying those gobsmacked moments. I couldn’t wait to see them on my screen, and I couldn’t help wanting to see more representation in characters and stories like those.

When I was younger, I don’t think I consciously noticed the lack of people who looked like me in the books and movies I consumed. (I was probably more concerned about the overdue fines from my local library, and taming my very multicultural hair.)

Now that I’m older, I realize it’s because every single one of those roles could have been played by me, or a disabled person, or a trans person, or a fat person, or [insert underrepresented person here]. It’s because those stories are universal, and diversifying them just enriches the experience for audiences. #OWNVoices

So, armed with my woke-ness, my extensive chick flick-watching history, a STEM degree, and a serious case of wanderlust (exacerbated by my love for food), I wrote Between You and Me.

It’s an interracial love story about a brilliant, hopelessly romantic disabled scientist from Seattle, and an equally brilliant, way more influential, slightly cagey venture capitalist from New York, who are gobsmacked by love at first sight at an event in Chicago, then fall in love (on purpose this time) during a steamy weekend in New Orleans.

Well, they rack up a lot of flyer miles.

I’m most proud of the fact that the conflict in the story isn’t born of their outward differences, and that the characters, from primary to tertiary, reflect the world as it truly is.

I had so much fun writing the multiple place settings, the super geeky technology, allll the food, and the sexy times (there may or may not be extraordinary body ornaments…possibly with tassels…possibly with sequins).

What I hope readers take away at story’s end is that love at first sight is possible, it can happen to anyone, and it can grow into something lasting if two gobsmacked characters can peel themselves up from the pavement, and re-inflate each other with bicycle pumps.

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Look out for Between You and Me, coming September 20th! (Available for preorder now.)

I follow my BFF in my head, Steve, on twitter. So should you! He’s a living guide for writers, offering free and witty advice in 140 characters or less. Also, he’s woke, and makes excellent use of the F word.

As with dieting, I take writing advice with a grain of salt. No need to say “never,” just practice moderation.

For example, my BFF also thinks dialogue indicators should be limited to “asked” and “said,” but they get redundant, and aren’t as effective when characters are yelling, snapping, whispering, moaning (which happens a lot in romance, hehe), or my personal favorite: murmuring. Honestly, a romance without murmuring isn’t a romance at all.

So, on the 24th day in the year of our Lord, two thousand and seventeen, my BFF tweeted:

Writing a story or a novel? Great! Want a tip? NEVER use the phrase "for a long moment."

— Stephen King (@StephenKing) July 25, 2017

My heart stopped, I got goosebumps, and a storm cloud of doom followed me around until I could get home and pull up my WIP to see if I’d committed this heinous offense.

[Spoiler]: I did.

Twice in my debut novel, which is in production right now and will undergo no further edits. Yippee! But I’m totally okay with this, because my BFF made this confession on his Facebook page the same day he tweeted that tweet:

Many fans tried to rip him for being guilty of something he advised against, even going as far as posting every single time he used the phrase in his published works.

Eh, if that’s how you want to spend your time…I get it, but that’s kind of the point. He, like any writer, can look back over his earlier works and find something to improve upon (and possibly cringe at). It shows growth as an author, and it’s amazing that my BFF wants to pass along his many years of knowledge. He’s seasoned, okay? The rest of us are still marinating in the brine. (Some of us are more salty than others.) I KNOW, I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF.

So today, I cracked open my new WIP, and found a few examples to share with you, along with revisions.

Carmen was quiet for a long moment after he’d finished speaking, and then nodded, seeming to agree with her own thoughts.

Carmen took a few sips of her café con leche, using the comfortable silence after he’d finished speaking to sort out her own thoughts. Then she nodded, seeming to agree with whatever conclusion she’d drawn.

For a moment, he just watched her, and for once, it didn’t make her uncomfortable to feel so exposed.

For a full phrase, he just watched her, and for once, it didn’t make her uncomfortable to feel so exposed.

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the bustle outside the door.

They were quiet, listening to the bustle outside the door.

He wasn’t alone for a moment, constantly stopped for animated conversation with adoring colleagues and fans.

He wasn’t alone for a second, constantly stopped for animated conversation with adoring colleagues and fans.

This was a great exercise for me, and took just m̶o̶m̶e̶n̶t̶s̶ minutes. In many cases, simply cutting the offending phrase is enough. Obviously the action is taking place during a moment. Life is full of moments, so spelling that out is a bit vague. Are we talking seconds? Minutes? During a heightened moment, even seconds can feel long, so a “long moment” is relative.

When cutting isn’t enough, it might be an opportunity to delve a little deeper, build tension, fill the “long moment” with some action, so the reader experiences it with the character(s). Show, don’t tell.

Some of the writing isms from which I’ve been #delivert are:

Excessive use of “as,” eyes widening and brows lifting, and beginning too many sentences with “And.” I love starting sentences with “And,” but it loses its effectiveness without moderation.

What are some of your writing “isms?” Comment below!

Some things are fixtures in romance, like hitched breaths and hearts that flutter and flip; things that are hot and molten and licked by flames, but also pulse and throb and shudder. Honestly, if two (or three or more, I don’t judge) unwitting souls, destined for happily ever after, don’t feel that electric current of chemistry the first time they touch, I. WILL. NOT. BELIEVE. IT.

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Seriously. I need to read about goosebumps and sweaty palms; stuttering, babbling, you-make-me-so-hot-I’m-stupid attraction. Even sweet romance and enemies-to-lovers stories have this, okay? Because FIXTURES. I want witty banter and shameless flirtation, spark-flying tit-for-tats and tension (sexual or otherwise) you can cut with a proverbial knife. Or else, it’s just…boring.

There is no room in the “literary escape” box in my brain for boring.

Romance, in all its subgenres, can be split into two categories for me: smart and trashy. (Occasionally my mind is blown by stories that are both smart and trashy…but only occasionally.) Someone I follow on twitter recently tweeted that she preferred to read romance on her e-reader, because she didn’t want to be judged by the covers.

I understand this notion. Personally, I feel this way whether I’m reading smart or trashy; whether there’s a hot, oiled up torso on the cover, two hot, oiled up torsos (or three or more, I told you, don’t judge), lovebirds kissing, a pair of snazzy red heels…or the heroine of a sweeping historical, decked out in her sweeping historical finery. Because it doesn’t matter what kind of romance it is: romance is considered beneath the novel, something shameful and inferior. Not smart.

Well, that’s bullshit.

First, “novel” is almost impossible to nail down. It’s 2017, four thousand, one hundred and seventeen years after the first known written story ever, The Epic of Gilgamesh. I have a point. Many points, the strongest one being: There is nothing new under the sun. What is novel is obscure. It’s based on trends, and the social climate, and culture, and gender, and race…and Oprah. It is utterly, supremely subjective.

Screw “novel,” romance is revolutionary.

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Even the trashiest of trashy romance has unconventional beauty. Convention says (straight, cis) men can enjoy sex in overt, even offensive ways. Boys will be boys. Men are visual, mmkay? So visual, in fact, that if a teenager’s bra strap is visible, she is in violation of archaic dress codes. Boys can’t control themselves; therefore, girls must control ourselves and boys. Revolution says women enjoy sex, too. Revolution says, Playboy and Maxim and Esquire are cute and all, but we like foreplay. We like plot, whether shallow or deep, and we like hitched breath and butterflies, sometimes accompanied by handcuffs and vibrating panties.

Listen, I’ve never been interested in ruggedly handsome cowboys, and I’m over billionaire bad boys and the broodingly immortal, but I won’t knock women who love those beaten-to-death heroes. They’re entitled to their Stetsoned studs and Armani-clad Adonises, just as I’m entitled to get hot in the pants for antiheroes, and heroes who wield their tongues (ha!) like switchblades whether they’re being hilarious or deathly serious.

Whatever gets you off, girl, get you off, girl. Or guy. [Insert she, her, hers, he, him, his, they, them, theirs, ze, hir, etc.] See? Recognizing more than two gender identities shows that I am informed, empathetic, and smart.

Which brings me to my next point: smart romance informs.

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Romance authors come from all walks of life, with infinitely many professional and personal experiences which help to richly inform their stories. These differences provide varying perspectives on a wealth of topics too numerous to name, but all essential to understanding the human condition.

In the past few weeks alone, I’ve read romantic fiction tackling body image, mental illness, infidelity, poverty, casual racism/ xenophobia and stereotypes. The authors of those books did not brow beat me. They skillfully weaved these topics into their stories in such a seamless way, I had to go back and re-read in order to “Yassss” and snap my fingers at the social commentary well after I’d finished reading.

The more diverse books there are, with inclusive authors, characters, and plots, the deeper the pool of knowledge. If you read enough, sooner or later (and without even realizing it) you’ll learn about, empathize with, and relate to people who aren’t exactly like you.

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What better way is there to do this, than to experience all kinds of people falling in love? Love is universal. It’s arguably the most essential component of human existence. A good author will help you see it. A great author will make you feel it. And if you feel, you empathize. If you empathize, that means you can find a way to connect with someone you used to see as “other.” You’ll see “other” as “same.” You’ll see “other” as you.

All the while, page-turner after page-turner, you are having fun. You are immersed. Ask any teacher of language; immersion is the best way to learn.

Plus, there’s sex.

~L

It’s an intriguing phenomenon, and it’s one of the most popular tropes in romance, so it’s interesting that there are so many skeptics. Perhaps it’s because our first introduction to the idea is in fairy tales?

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Think about it: A dashing prince on a white horse just happens to fall instantly, irrevocably in love with a princess, knowing nothing about her other than the fact that she’s beautiful.

That’s pretty shallow. And unrealistic.

Throw in some swashbuckling, some cackling villains, a fairy godmother, a few dragons, and at least one sky-scraping tower in which to imprison the pretty, pretty princess, and it’s easy to understand how I became a cynic on the subject by the time I was eight years old.

It wasn’t because the fables weren’t enjoyable, but because they were marketed to little girls, and so many things marketed to little girls tend to be brushed off as insipid and ridiculous. Fun fact: More men believe in love at first sight than women. Huh…interesting. If poetry by these well-respected poets is any indication, I’m inclined to believe it.

E. E. Cummings

Pablo Neruda

William Shakespeare

Homer

A bit dramatic for me, though. Not that I don’t appreciate them. I feel about those poets, the way I feel about really emotional ballads: They’re beautiful–haunting, even, but I don’t want to listen to them in the shower, or in my car, or dancing around my house as I sweep and wash dishes. I have to be in the mood. 

I like my love-at-first-sight slightly less nostalgic, a little more relatable. So…fairy tales and poetry aren’t my go-to for casual reading…what about science? Everyone e̶x̶c̶e̶p̶t̶ ̶D̶o̶n̶a̶l̶d̶ ̶T̶r̶u̶m̶p̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶v̶i̶l̶ ̶m̶i̶n̶i̶o̶n̶s̶ trusts fact, right? Luckily, biological anthropologist Helen Fisher has lots of that. Here are my favorites:

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It takes less than a second to decide whether you find someone attractive.

Within the first three minutes of talking to someone, you’ll know if he or she is a suitable match.

Someone in love shows similar brain activity as someone addicted to heroin, because the brain releases dopamine, a hormone which controls wanting, craving, obsessions, focus, energy, and motivation.

Love at first sight doesn’t happen to everyone, and it happens to more men (because they’re more visual) than women (who are more cautious, because we’re “custodians of the egg”). 

*Breaks fourth wall and stares into the camera lens like a character on The Office*

Well, that sucks. And it’s not very romantic. How about a happy medium?

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If I was talking movies, I’d fire off a list a mile long. I’d be the movie addict version of Bubba Gump, substituting film titles for shrimp dishes. (I may still do this in future, fair warning). But I mean books. Inclusive books, where the hero and/ or heroine might sometimes look like me, or any combination of ethnicities, ablebodiedness, faiths, orientations and gender identities.

They’re out there, but they’re lonely. We need more diverse books. So if you’re reading this, you write, and feel compelled…add a few hundred pages to the mix.

Toni Morrison said, “If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”

I’ve done just that with my debut novel, Between You and Me. After reading it about 300 times on the road to publishing, I’ve recognized the influence of fairy tales, poetry, science, and the romantic comedy within its pages. I’m so proud and happy to share with you what happens to Finn and Emanuela when love at first sight grabs hold of them.

Coming soon!

XOXOXO

~L

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Rather than wax poetic (that’s what “About Lynn” is for), I thought I’d share a few of my favorite things instead:

I like coffee with my oxygen. I blame it on the Gilmore Girls, whom I also love…like, really love. We’re kindred spirits, allergic to sweating, shucking societal expectations of what to eat for breakfast (takeout is amazing on a Saturday morning with a mimosa). I own every season on DVD, for the same reason I still buy hard copies of my favorite books:

a) I like to smell them.

b) In the event of the apocalypse, I don’t think Netflix would survive.

Speaking of dialogue porn (Gilmore Girls, stay with me), I adore writers who can dish out incredible words in quotation marks. Jane Austen holds the gold medal for wit and sass, so naturally I own every adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, whether film or novel. A personal goal of mine is to improve my dialogue every time I hit that ” button on my keyboard.

I like paper things. Planners, notebooks, stationary, cute notes stuck to mirrors…

I want to print everything Ava DuVernay says and tack it to my walls.

I have a pretty impressive candle collection.

Chocolate. Alllll the chocolate.

Wine is good at any time of day.

Rain makes me happy. Is that weird? I dunno.

I write because it makes me Creator…of worlds, people, ideas…I can decide fate with my fingers, breathe life into my dreams.

I have VERY curly hair. I mean, really, if I didn’t slap product in there, I’d probably float away…human. air. balloon.

I love vintage clothing, especially the red polka-dotted dress I bought at a consignment shop in New York a few years ago. It makes me feel pretty.

No matter how many articles discourage “boring” dates, dinner and a movie will never get old if your date has good taste in food and film.

Were I not a writer, I’d travel the world as a professional tester of tastes…and then write about it.

I love research. I’m addicted to it. I feel empowered to write anything my heart desires because everything I need to know can be learned in a few clicks, or read from something I ordered in a few clicks.