I’ve written a lot of different types of characters in the 20+ books I’ve
published since
I started in this business. Like real people, every character is a little
different. I
enjoy learning about their quirks and imperfections. Their bad habits and
fears. I like
picking their imaginary brains to find out why they are the way they are.
That’s my
favorite part of writing. A lot of my characters have a bit of me in them –
a healthy
dose of sarcasm, a bit of a pessimistic attitude, an unnatural predilection
for take-out,
and the ability to make a fool of themselves without even trying.
But there’s other sides to me that I’m not as proud to share, just like
there is in
everyone, and I try to represent that in my characters as well. Not every
bit of us is
likeable. I’ve done things I’m ashamed of. I’ve been mean to people for a
variety of
reasons and justified it in my mind at the time. I’ve thought I was better
than someone
else, or smarter than someone else, and I’ve let that influence me and how I
acted. I
think everyone has done that in their life. People aren’t perfect and
neither are
characters in books.
When I was crafting the world of Rosewood, Alabama, I created a cast of characters nearly
a hundred
people strong. Like any town, there’s a variety of different types of
people, and as it
impacted my first two heroines, some of those people were mean girls. You
know the ones
I’m talking about – the perfect, snotty girls in high school that had
everything and made
your life miserable. I will admit that over the course of my adolescence, I
was on both
sides of this story, both the mean girl and the one whose life was made a
living hell on
a daily basis (although more the latter than the former). I was never a
Regina George (I
was never that popular), but I wasn’t a saint, either. My sarcasm had a
cutting edge
that took years to soften. But it did. I’ve also grown a lot since then. I
matured. I
realized how hurtful I could be and how I wasn’t any better than anyone
else. That isn’t
something that happens overnight, and not everyone has this revelation, but
people grow.
They change. And I wanted to show this in the series as well by letting my
mean girls get
that same opportunity.
To quote Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion, “I bet in high
school, everybody
made somebody's life hell.” That means that even the mean girls probably had
someone in
their lives that did the same thing to them. But in books and movies, we
never get into
the mean girl’s head to know why she’s the way she is. During the first two
books, we got
to meet two characters – Maddie and Lydia – from the point of view of their
less popular
high school victims. As I worked out the plot of book three, I knew that the
next
Chamberlain sibling to get their own story would be Maddie. But wait...
Maddie isn’t the
downtrodden girl from the wrong side of the tracks or the plucky sidekick
everyone wants
to cheer for... she’s a mean girl. Grant nearly stabbed her with a serving
fork in the
second book! It didn’t matter. She needed her story told and that meant
telling it from
the other side, getting under the skin of a character that no one really
likes. Not just
to justify her actions in the past, which may be unjustifiable, but to help
her grow as a
character like a real person.
To do that, she needed to grow on the page. Which meant she was going to be
a total pill
at the start of the book.
Maddie’s attitude and air of superiority are critical to the book’s conflict
with the
hero, Emmett. Her refined palate and sense of decorum fly in the face of
other people,
but having her loosen up and grow as a person is central to her story. She
needed to be
knocked down a few pegs, get called out for her actions, and face it head-
on. I knew
going into this story that it was a risk. I knew that some people would just
hate her and
wouldn’t bother to finish the book. It’s hard to be inside the head of a
character you
don’t really care for. Some people would relate Maddie to the mean girl in
their own past
and wouldn’t be able to get beyond it to sympathize with her. For those
readers, no
painful backstory or character redemption would make this story one they
enjoyed. They
want her tarred and feathered and will accept no less. But in the real
world, that’s not
what happens. And that’s not what happens here, either.
For those readers who can see and appreciate the change in Maddie, I think
it was a risk
worth taking. To know why Maddie protects herself so fiercely, to see her
realize her
mistakes and try to do the right thing... I think it’s a big payoff for me
as the writer,
and for the reader as well.
Everyone deserves a happy ending and I’m determined to give even the meanest
of mean
girls, her very own HEA.
Andrea Laurence is an award-winning author of contemporary and
paranormal romance.
She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since she learned to
read at a young
age. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to share
her special
blend of sensuality and dry, sarcastic humor with the world. A dedicated
West Coast girl
transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own “happily ever
after” with her
boyfriend and their collection of animals including a Siberian Husky that
sheds like
nobody’s business.
Andrea is represented by Jessica Alvarez at BookEnds, LLC. Her publicist is
Morgan
Doremus at Pitchlit.
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When a prim and proper baker and a laid-back bartender have a
neighborly
disagreement that gets them both in trouble with the law, a sweet
reconciliation is
stirred up in the playful third romance in Andrea Laurence’s sexy Rosewood
series.
Maddie’s life is perfectly sweet. Her bakery’s tasty treats are rising to
the top of
every must-have list in town, and her commute is just a block away by foot.
She loves
everything about her little downtown Victorian bungalow—except for her
unbearably noisy
neighbor, Woody’s. The bar’s obnoxious and sexy owner, Emmett, seems to live
to aggravate
Maddie. But he mostly thinks she could use a stiff drink to dislodge the
stick up her
ass. He’s just trying to run his business. Bars stay open late, they play
music, they
serve alcohol. If she doesn’t like it, why did she buy a house across the
street?
When Maddie and Emmett’s battle lands them in front of the local judge,
they’re ordered
to do several weeks of community service cleaning parks and painting over
graffiti. As
they scrub away the latest works of art by the town’s anonymous “Penis
Picasso,” the
baker and the bartender slowly begin to see there’s more to each other than
meets the
eye. So what happens if they wave the white flag and surrender into each
other’s arms?
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