Why I shouldn’t read my published work

So I was reading Irresistible, which is the anthology my story “Renewal” is published in.

I read it and immediately wanted to edit/revise it.

Anyone else do this?

When you’re stuck

I’m working on a BDSM story for an anthology.  Loved the start, loved the middle…and now I’m stuck.  I got caught up in two scenes that had immediately popped into my head, and gave no thought whatsoever as to how to end it.

There are several issues, in this case

1-It’s not as BDSM-y as I think the anthology would like

2-I have a strong suspicion that it’s a novella or a novel and not a short story.

3-I know that I’m hitting the fish or cut bait moment if I actually want to submit to this particular anthology, so I’m feeling the pinch.

4-I have a really good idea for another story brewing, although it doesn’t fit any current calls for submission.

5-I’ve been a bit inspired to dissect and begin to rebuild the novel, so there’s part of me that wants to throw all the short term projects into the “in progress” folder and focus on that exclusively.

I’m feeling very indecisive and stuck.  What do you do when you feel like this as a writer? (Or in life in general?)

Accents and the trouble they cause writers

There really is nothing sexier to me than a brainy Brit.  Giles on Buffy the Vampire Slayer? YES, PLEASE.

I have long wanted to write a story with a brainy Brit, but the major thing that has stopped me is the whole question of accent.  How do write an accent without writing a pidgin English to convey what they’re *supposed* to sound like?  JD Robb (aka Nora Roberts in wearing her murder mystery romance hat) has a male protagonist named Roarke, who has an Irish accent (also way sexy) and has set several stories in Ireland.  She manages to reference things like lyrical quality or a hit of Ireland just often enough to keep you reminded (or the setting does).

But in a 3-4K story, how often can you reference something without it getting repetitive?

Food for thought.

 

Also food for thought–after spending a week in Sydney, I have realized that I’m ambivalent about the Aussie accent, which is surprised me.

50 Shades of Grey…and me

If you’ve been living under a rock, 50 Shades is a blockbuster erotica novel that has been breaking sales records and optioned for a movie.  As an erotica author, I’ve recently been asked by a lot of my friends what I think of it.

That I’m not interested in reading it.

I have an intense dislike of Twilight, so it’s not a far stretch for me to say that I’m not going to enjoy this book, as it is re-purposed Twilight fanfic.  (What’s fanfic?)

I have read excerpts, and I’m not crazy about the author’s style.

I think that the unrealistic portrayal of BDSM would make the book problematic for me.

That anything that helps mainstream erotica is a good thing.

We write in a genre that gets very little public respect or acceptance.  I write under the pseudonym of Delilah Night not because I have delusions of being mobbed at a mall like Justin Beiber, but rather because I know that my profession is uncomfortable for many.

The day I don’t feel uncomfortable saying “I write erotica” at my daughter’s nursery school is the day it’s truly gone mainstream.  I tend to say I’m a writer, and then deflect after that or just say “romance.”  I only came out publicly on facebook to my friends and family as an erotica author after my first professional acceptance in Irresistible (now available in paperback and as a kindle e-book).  While some people knew, not everyone did (and my in-laws sure as hell didn’t before–and we don’t discuss that they know it now).

Sure I’m a little jealous of the checks EL James is depositing in the bank, but if the popularity of 50 shades actually helps to mainstream erotica (already getting shelved with the romance trade paperbacks–a far cry from 15 years ago) then we all benefit.

Wow, I’d love that kind of paycheck some day.

By and large, erotica isn’t a money making genre.  I’m only able to be a writer (which mostly means the blog I write about my life in Singapore, and the short stories/novel I’m working on—but full time in this context is maybe 10 hours a week in a good week) because what I actually am is a full time stay at home mom who writes.  Most of us who write erotica have full time other jobs (mine may not pay, but it is absolutely full time).  So yes, I absolutely would love to repay all the love and support my partner has given me with a big fat check for a book I’ve written.

“Mommy Porn” is lazy writing and rude

For me, the most troubling aspect of the talk surrounding 50 shades is the lazy descriptor of it as “mommy porn.”

Calling it “mommy porn” is dismissive to mothers, to erotica writers, to the genre, and it’s just plain lazy.  It buys into the madonna/whore stereotype that says mothers don’t like sex.  That in the act of childbirth we also push out our sexuality and become boring asexual beings.

Guess what?  I like sex.  I like writing about sex.  I don’t always like my sex vanilla.  I’m also a mother, but that’s just part of my overall identity. My being a mom does not dictate what type of pornography I am attracted to.  Or if it does, it influences me in that I tend to write a lot of characters who also happen to be moms, because I can identify with that at this stage in my life far more than I can identify with a college co-ed.  On the flip side, I’m writing one of Santa’s elves these days and contemplating which fairy tale I want to BDSM up for a submission to a different anthology.

The major demographic for this novel is the same demographic that reads romance novels in general.  Is a Nora Roberts book mommy soft-core porn?  No, it’s a romance novel.  Let’s not diss women who want a more explicit read (and I say that as a fairly big fan of Nora Roberts work, and a long time reader of her work).

Call it fanfic, call it a bad portrayal of BDSM, call it a publishing phenom, but don’t call it mommy porn.

 

Hats off to you, Ms James.  I hope to one day be so lucky.

A new definition of “surreal”

I currently live in Singapore.  It is always in the high 80’s/low 90’s and humid here.  Palm trees and other tropical flora/fauna abound.

I am writing a Christmas story.

It is April.

Surreal.

Touched Out

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day.  The husband had to work late, and I was home with the girls.  The baby, at 4 months, is hardly a handful…but the 3 year old can be another story entirely.

I rigged a game of Candyland to ensure a speedy end once I’d announced that bedtime was imminent, after the game was over.  I had barely settled her and gone out to the living room when my husband got home.

I was surprised that instead of feeling happy that he was home….I felt a frisson of disappointment.  Part of me had been gearing up for an hour or two of alone time before ending the evening with my partner.  While I was happy to see him, and had been missing him…I felt a little cheated of “me time.”

I recognized this feeling from my last go-round with the newborn period.  The sensation of being “touched out.”  I love that the LM is affectionate and loves to climb in my lap and give me hugs and beg for “Mommy ups” (to be picked up and hugged tightly) and so forth.  I love that I’ve managed a successful breastfeeding relationship with BG.  I love that my husband is still attracted to me physically after almost 7 years together and 2 children.  But there are days when I all I want is NOT to be touched, hugged, pulled on, climbed on, breastfed from, and so forth.

Yesterday I took that “me time” by making my husband dinner.  Yes, it’s a total cliche…but I love to cook, and the kitchen is my domain.  Making food for my loved ones makes me happy (most days…) and as I prefer to cook alone, it also serves as a place where I get that touch-free time.  By the time dinner was ready, I was more than happy to hang out with him and watch the Daily Show online.

Feeling touched out is normal.  It’s hard not to read too much into it, especially if you’re a first time mom.  One of the perks of second time parenthood is that it’s easier to identify those transient feelings, and to acknowledge them, and to deal with them constructively (most of the time).

 

In other news…the book is out!  Go buy it!  Irresistible: Erotic Romance for Couples!  (And, yes I do see the irony of pimping my story about sex after kids in a post about feeling touched out…)

The creative juices have begun to flow once more…

Today literotica.com published my first new story in 4 years.  It’s not that I haven’t written anything between 2007 and 2011, but none of what I wrote during that time was right for that market.  Literotica is the website I submitted to when I wrote my first “dirty story” in 2002…almost 9 years ago.  Looking at my history of submissions, I can point to times when I was single (more stories, some truly awful poetry), and to times when I wasn’t.  It’s not shocking that my long dry spell with very little published there began when I was planning my wedding, and then when I began my path toward motherhood.  Not because I didn’t still have those desires, rather than I focused my energy elsewhere.  I’ve also begun to transition to writing for pay, and thus Literotica was ignored.

However, I finally got around to finishing a multi-chapter story I’ve been working on for eight years.  Eight years.  It predates motherhood, marriage, and even meeting my partner.  Finishing it feels bittersweet…the happiness over finally bringing it to resolution and sadness as it’s been my fun side project for years, what I’ve always gone back to when I needed to write but didn’t want to focus on more serious writing.  On the other hand, it’s somewhat absurd that it took 8 years to write less than my usual monthly writing goal.

Regardless, what makes me most happy is that while I continue to grow as a writer, I can occasionally go back and nurture the place where everything began for me.

If you’re a new writer, or a writer who’s never written erotica before and want to try it out in a welcoming space (almost anything is accepted), I strongly encourage you to check out Literotica.

No, I’m not sharing what my pen name is there, except to say that it’s not Delilah Night.