Chasing a dream...

You must've been a beautiful baby...

What is your dream?

Mine was to be a writer.  There were a lot of factors in that becoming my dream.  I've always written, finishing my first book--terrible book--at age nine and long daydreaming.  I fanfic'd Robin McKinley's world of Damar through high school and my idea of a fun Friday night when I was a teen?  Me and a friend had this notebook in which we started a story...each writing a chapter and then swapped notebooks and the other one picked up the story (bee-tee-dubs? This is an excellent learning tool.  Nothing will make your brain stretch more as a writer than trying to figure out where to go with a story that just took a dramatic veer away from where you planned...).

My apologies, kid from ET, for stealing your hair.

In later years of high school, I wrote a zine.  All the cool kids (my idea of cool kids were Denah and Ben and Carrie) were doing it...I later got in a heap of trouble for it but, again, stretching my writerly wings.  Poetry, I learned in this experiment, wasn't how I wanted to express myself.

Yeah for Etch-a-Sketch!

Still, I'm nothing if not a blockhead.  Even though books/writing/words were how I spent my fun time, I saw the Challenger explode one day when I was home finger painting.  If the very brave, very documented in my Scholastic readers, teacher was willing to reach for the stars, so would I.

Besides, no one REALLY became a writer.  It was like my artistic abilities...something that would never amount to much.

So, I entered the Air Force for about a minute and a half.  This was after my stint at Space Academy, so I was sure my career lay in the hands of Aerospace Engineering...I was going up.  I was going to touch the stars...

Or I would come home in a heap of failure, get excited to see my fiance and end up pregnant with our first child. You know, one of those was sure to happen.

Permtastic, baby.

My daughter became the center of my world.  I worked sometimes three jobs to keep things going and when my sons came along...I was sure of two things with absolute certainty:

1. These kids were my world.  I would do crazy shit to protect them.  I would give up everything without the slightest hesitation for them.  They meant everything.  No sacrifice would ever be too great to make for them.

High school hotness

2. I would be single for the remainder of my days because who in their right minds would want a relationship with a single mother of THREE kids, all of whom hung out on the spectrum.

It turns out, looking back, that nothing in life should ever be looked at with absolute certainty.

I've since learned these two things:

1. Children grow up.  They don't need you as constantly as they age, although they may never stop needing you.  You have to find your identity or risk falling apart when they leave.

2. I was single because I was terrified of loving someone and not being as focused on my kids.

This kid is gonna grow up and write smut.

Hard lessons.  Two strokes helped me realize that if I didn't chase my dreams, no one was going to do it for me.  There was a distinct chance I would raise my children, die, and leave my legacy as a parent but nothing as an individual.

Scary.  So, well, what the hell.  I was writing, as usual, and people liked the stories I was telling.  They believed in me (surprisingly, they believed in my art, too.  All the jobs I thought impossible were much more possible than the one I thought logical) until I started to wonder if I should, too.

I sent out my first manuscript.  My friend sent it out, too.  I collected a box of lovely rejections.  I got addicted to the thrill of it...Wow.  Something I wrote is sitting on a desk in NYC.  Sure, it might get rejected but how cool to have made it to NYC.  To be something someone far more classy than I read over coffee?

My Princess

Exhilarating even if I got rejected.

And then one day...someone didn't reject me.

My first book got published.  Then my second...

And now I don't get as many rejections.

They're still the center of my world...

The point of this summary of my life is...what do you want?  What do you want so bad, feel so good doing, that it is the last thing you think of when you close your eyes and the thing that makes you pop out of bed in the morning? Is it not what you thought?

If it's not, then why aren't you chasing THAT dream? Is it because it's not logical?

Why are you letting someone else tell you what is logical and what is not?

Go after your dreams.  I did.  And now I'm sitting here, home with my kids, doing what I love and I even get paid for it most of the time.

Happy Writing!!

A Day In The Life

So, I've been doing a lot of promo lately and figured it was about time to do a real life blog.

It's named a day in the life in honor of Eleanor Roosevelt--who I now know a whole lot about due to studying her and her husband for finals--since she wrote a series of articles about a day in the life of a first lady.

I'm not a first lady.  I'm a glamorous romance writer.  My life is the stuff of Romancing the Stone.

Or not.

After cramming for finals and getting hardly any sleep this week, I crashed early last night.  I then got up at the buttcrack of dawn.  Checking emails, I saw first round edits for Proper Care and Feeding of a Sex God, now renamed Taming a Sex God.  Coffee in hand, I whipped through them and fired them back to my editor.  I realized I was late.

I jumped in and out of the shower in record time and stuffed my kiddo in the car.  Realizing I forgot to get cash out of the bank for the Santa Shoppe he was headed to (and I was volunteering at) we popped in and out of an atm and went to school.

Signing him in late, because I'm a rockstar of a mama, I headed off with a friend to do some quality volunteer time.  It was actually pretty cool since I got to play store (aka work the register) and chit chat with my buddy.  Then I had lunch with my kiddo and helped tiny humans. 

Although fun, this was tiring, and more socializing than I usually do in a month, so I headed home, checked on my oldest and then passed out for an hour (Note: I mentioned this is finals week for college, right?)

I woke to an offer of cookies in exchange for my mad artistic skills so I got cookies.  I then checked my cell phone because the boys were riding bikes on the dirt road behind our house, mucking around in the woods and around the creek.  They texted me pictures of a frozen deer corpse they found in the creek.

KID YOU NOT...they texted me pictures of a body in frozen water.  Apparently this was a fascinating find for the boys.  Gruesome but fascinating.

Gaaaak.  They had hot cocoa and cookies and I packed up my stuff to go to the high school for a meeting with the music boosters.

I got all fired up because they don't have a music program in our elementary school right now (budget cuts) so I threw out ideas, thoughts, and am planning on now playing advocate for replacing our depleted performing arts program.  Yes, I'm now the secretary of the music program.  *bows*

Now I'm back home, with another round of edits in my inbox, plans to research music grants and the positive and negative impacts of no music program, cramming for an art final tomorrow and...oh yeah, I have work to do.

So, yes, this is a day in the life of a glamorous writer.  You're all jealous right now, aren't you?

Happy Writing!

Blurb Writing 101

I realized I haven't really done a post on blurbs in my writing tips and tricks blogs and I should have.  Really, I should have.

Vague it up much?

There is such a thing as a really good blurb.  Conversely, there are also really bad ones.  Often, when writers try to be mysterious or intriguing, tempting readers to read more...what you're really doing is being so damn vague, readers don't care.

Example 1

Darcy danced her way into fame during her stint on Broadway.  Breaking hearts and taking names, she couldn't love like she once had.

Until they came...

Did it follow the rules?

Why does that suck, Virg?

Who the hell are they?  What do they have to do with her ability to love?  What does any of that have to do with Broadway?  Why do I care? Your reader should never be left wondering why they should care.

Since you gave us none of the information needed, it sucks.  Few readers are going to be interested in such a vague blurb.

Example 2

Monsters are here.  They're among us.  Only Darcy can defeat them...but will she do it before it's too late?

Did it follow the rules?

Again, suckgasm. 

What kind of monsters?  Among who?  What the hell makes Darcy so special?  When you're writing the blurb, you should have a pretty clearcut idea who your audience is, what your genre is, what your major conflict is and you should squash all that together to intrigue the reader. Basically, your blurb should answer the 5W's and the one H.

Huh?

Who, what, when, where, why, how.  Add a hook to it, and you're done.

Again, the writer might think they're being intriguing in my examples.  They're wrong.  Too many unanswered questions isn't intriguing, it's confusing.  People who are confused aren't happy.  People who aren't happy don't like to give you money.  Just bein' honest here.

Now, let's look at one of my blurbs (since I don't really have permission to share other people's blurbs as examples.)

Sample Blurb 1 (From Dom of the Dead, coming soon from Decadent Pub)

She couldn’t imagine living without him.

When Carson Black’s longtime crush and best friend dies in a bike accident, she openly weeps at his funeral. Never expressing her feelings for him, she thinks she might be going mad from grief when his voice, his scent, his desires…seem to fill her apartment.

He was afraid to demand what he needed.

Randall Stokes loves Carson but didn’t express it while he was alive. A dominant, he didn’t dare dream that the sweet girl next door would do the things that he needed to find satisfaction. When tragedy strikes, he not only has nothing to lose but a suddenly clear view into what she needs, wants, desires. Is it too late to take what they’ve both longed for?

A ghost of a chance…

Love lingers, though his body is gone. Can Carson and Randall find love in the Dom of the Dead?

 

Did it follow the rules?

 

Do we know, based on that blurb, who?  Yup, Carson and Randall.  Where?  Okay, vague there. Why?  Because he died.  What?  Something about Bdsm and love. When?  Contemporary--the motorcycle.  How?  Apparently he's haunting her.

 

Although I answered all these questions, I've left dangling ones.  Is it too late to fall in love with a dead man's ghost?  Well, you'll have to read it to find out.  But I didn't leave so many questions unanswered that readers are sitting there asking themselves what my book is even about.

 

Sample Blurb 2 (From Proper Care and Feeding of a Sex God, coming in March 2013 from Champagne Books)

 

Being a sex god isn't easy...

Yes has been a sex god for centuries. No one wrote stories or songs about him but they sure do remember to call out his name at the peak of pleasure. Satisfying the world by fulfilling their carnal needs, he is no stranger to Aphrodite's Island. When his sister, troublemaker that she is, calls him home for what she deems a 'special' job, he shudders to think what she could want.

Being frigid is worse...

Katie can't get off. She's determined it's physically impossible. She's tried everything--toys, men, women, flogging. It's just not happening. Finding an ad for a tropical island promising 'ultimate fantasy experiences' she figures it's worth a shot. It's not going to work, but it's worth a shot.

Passion beyond her wildest dreams...

Who knew the one man who can trip her trigger would refuse to touch her? The more he backs off, the more he tempts her. Katie is fascinated by the man Miss A has sharing her hotel room but, although he seems attracted, he won't do the deed.

Can Katie figure out The Proper Care and Feeding of a Sex God?

 

Did it follow the rules?

 

Who?  Yes and Katie.  What? A fantasy vacation with a sex god. Where? Aphrodite's Island. When? Contemporary. (Ad, toys, slang) Why? Because she can't get off and he is a sex god. How? Because Aphrodite set them up.

 

Again, it answers the questions yet still has a hook.

 

So, basically try to answer these questions to avoid being vague.  You'll still intrigue readers while not leaving them so confused they don't bother.

 

Just my advice. 

Happy Writing!!

 

 

 

Authors and writers!! Carnal Passions Contest open NOW

Champagne Book Group is seeking talented authors and their stories for Carnal Passions, our erotic imprint. Carnal Passions accepts erotic romance in all its variations (BDSM, Alternate Lifestyle, Gay/Lesbian and any and all combinations thereof).

To find this new talent and terrific stories, Champagne Book Group is having a submissions contest for both published and unpublished authors.

Entries must be complete works, ranging in word count between 15,000-70,000 words and fit into one of the following subgenre categories:
·       Science Fiction Romance
·       Fantasy
·       Paranormal or Urban Fantasy
·       Contemporary
·       Historical Romance
·       M/M and F/F Romance
·       BDSM and Ménage
·       Mystery/Thriller/Suspense

Prizes:

Overall High Score: $100 advance and digital publishing contract (advance payable as $50 upon finalized contract and $50 upon publication).

Top-Scoring Contestant in each category will receive an acquiring
editor’s critique of synopsis and the first 25 pages of the manuscript and will be considered for a contract offer if the manuscript fits our current needs.

Entries will be accepted from July 2, 2012 through July 22, 2012, and must be emailed to eroticwriterscontest@champagnebooks.com.

Please include Contest and book title in the email subject line (Contest_Booktitle).  Attach full manuscript and 2-3 page synopsis in RTF format (Booktitle_MS and Booktitle_SYN as file names–your book title replaces “Booktitle”).

No entry fee is required. Judges reserve the right to Decline to Judge any entry if it does not fit our lines, the level of writing is not acceptable or the contest guidelines are not followed. Entries will be judged on the following criteria: Hook, Pacing/Plot, Characterization, Dialogue, Mechanics, and Author Voice.

While entering does not guarantee a contract, any manuscript, even if it is not selected as a winner, may be offered a contract solely at Champagne Book Group’s discretion.
 
Winners will be announced on August 13, 2012 via our blog and direct emails to winners.

Follow the contest on Twitter! #summerheat

Guidelines:
·       File type: .rtf or .doc, or .docx only
·       New Times Roman 12pt black font
·       Double spaced
·       No footers or headers
·       Margins: 1″ all
·       Page-breaks between chapters
Please include a title page listing the following information:
·       Legal name
·       Pen name
·       Email address
·       Contact phone
·       Working title (include series name and details if applicable)
·       Word count
·       Genre/category

Please see http://www.carnalpassions.com/store/cms.php?id_cms=10 for a list of subject matters we will not accept.

Contest submissions not adhering to the above guidelines or are not something Champagne Book Group/Carnal Passions publishes will be deleted unread.

Contractions

The only time in my life that I didn't get dinged for lack of contractions was while at least one person in the room was shouting, "PUSH!!"

Each and every stinkin round of edits ever to cross my desk has mention of my utter inability to tell a story and include contractions.

Sadly, I don't think in contractions. (I just used one...to prove I CAN use them. I don't like to but I CAN.)

The point? Every writer has a weakness.

Overuse of 'that word'

In my edits, crits, editing other peoples work and in chatting with author friends, I have found that we all tend to find one word that for some reason in our heads just sums up the story wonderfully. It might be juicy. Or smooth. Or slide. Or lubricious.

And for whatever reason, we say it twenty gazillion times.

I don't know why the writerly mind does this. But we do it. And NONE of us realizes we do this. There we are, happily clickity clacking away and overusing the shit out of lubricious and don't realize we have said it twenty times on THIS PAGE ALONE.

Why? Why do we do it?

I don't know. All I can say is thank the gods above for editors, crit partners and the occasional friend who is kind enough to ask both, "Uh, what the hell does lubricious mean?" and "Why the hell do you keep saying it?"

We also may overuse a technique...be it a sentence structure, a dialogue tag or something else. If you get dinged either in crits or in edits for this...author friends, do not shed a tear because I can tell you from my VAST (okay, not vast but pretty damned extensive) research that we all do it.

The same mistake...every effin time

Like my contraction issue. Yeah, some of us are smart enough to correct their mistakes over time.

Some of us just keep doing the same damn thing over and over again. The best I can tell you there is PRAY that your crit readers know your weakness and SEE your weakness and CATCH it before it gets contracted. Otherwise...your editor will and...well, yeah. Then you are me and you just get to beat your head off your desk wondering what the hell is so hard about writing a damn CONTRACTION now and again???

Or whatever your personal weakness is...

Not that contractions would be something that ANYone with a sane and rational mind would NOT use...

Freakin frakking stupid contractions...

I guess my point in this rant is that... we all make mistakes. And when we get our edits back we all beat our heads against our desks... or the handy brick wall...and wonder how in the hell we could have done something so amazingly STUPID.

But, uh, neat point, folks?

If you are doing edits...

You are doing something lots of people NEVER do. Lots of people talk about writing a book. Lots of other people actually go so far as to sit down and write PART of a book.

A few actually get determined enough to finish one.

Out of those few, a few will get the balls to submit it.

And out of those few, only a handful ever get a contract.

So if you are editing and feeling sort of lamers because you made a really stupid mistake...

Uh, you are pretty fucking cool to even have gotten to that point. Go get you some chocolate. Do a little dance. Then get your damn edits done. Cuz you rock, cupcake.

Happy writing. Or in this case, editing.

Historical Record

Someone said something stupid to me so in true blogger fashion, I am calling their ass out on the internet.

Because I can. Yes, you readers have given me that power. Thanks. *throws hard candy at readers*

Someone said to me that it is sad that authors of today are leaving behind no record of their lives. In the days of Michelangelo, we have reams of notes that he left behind. In other days of yore, we had letters that prolific authors sent to the people they loved, wanted to sleep with or otherwise felt the need to communicate with. But authors of today... well, they will be lost to the sands of time with no record for future generations to mull over.

Um. Hi. This is a blog. A lot of authors have them. We also have computers. Just because we aren't sticking stamps on letters that take us hours to write (because we have to write it, blow the ink dry before we can move on, possibly blot a bit... realize we made a mistake and start the whole damn thing over...) doesn't mean we aren't leaving a record for future generations.

If anything, we are leaving the most detailed record of all time. We not just tell you what we are thinking about (including politics, sex, writing, religion, current events, our love lives, child rearing, etc.) we also tell you what we are eating (often including pictures), where we go (again with the pictures) and what we thought about all that. The digital age has allowed us, for the first time in history, to literally document every second of our lives, no matter how unimportant, through a series of blogs, facebook and twitter updates, foursquare checkins and other social media outlets.

If, years from now, for some reason I become someone that a kid wants to write a paper on, they will have an ABUNDANCE of information about me. More than anyone would ever in a million years want.

How on earth can anyone suggest that the modern author is getting lost in the sands of time?

Or the modern anything? If you want to write a biography on any famous person, now is the time to do it. You can just follow them on all those media outlets I mentioned and wait for them to do something wonky.

This leads to people who have never met me thinking that they know me very well. And although they know some eerie details, they don't know ME. I mean, I am a hermit. The me they see is out there for the public to see. The real me... well, I am hiding behind this blue computer. Sort of like the wizard of Oz but with coffee. Lots of coffee.

I have no clue why this bothered me so much but I just wanted to mention to the public at large that you can see inside peoples lives in a way that no other generation could have dreamed of. And yet, for some reason, the feeling is that this age is being 'lost.'

Because it isn't on paper.

Really, I don't know why this bothered me so much but really it did. Anyway, I am off to eat some crazy imported chocolates. It turns out, from my experimentation, that 99% cacao includes very little sugar and is bitter as hell. And that the worlds best chocolate is ok. So far, though, I am most impressed by the Dutch coffee/chocolate hard candies and the New Hampshire chocolate. Go figure.

(See, you even know my chocolate preferences. Someone, quick... put it on paper.)

Rant over. Off to edit a book.

Happy writing!