Research-o-rama

I love research. Seriously. I know that's twelve kinds of nerdy, but there it is. Google is my friend as are books and cold call interviews. I love them all, but hands on stuff is my favorite.

I'll cheerfully take a class if I think it'll be fun and make for good research. The citizens police academy was a great example of that. Handling bricks of cocaine, getting bitten by a police dog, going lights and siren after a drunk driver and taking him to jail were priceless in terms of research. Also, they were a weird kind of fun.

My latest research fun happened last summer on vacation. I got a chance to explore an old iron mine with my family and Bill, the awesome DNR guy who so patiently answered all my questions about Michigan's Department of Natural Resources as well as our native black bear and gray wolf population for Maggie's Mates and Just Right.

Bill met up with us to take us into the bowels of an iron mine. Turns out he and I share a deep and abiding love of bats. (Yes, rodents with wings. We love them.) We went on the regular tour with the rest of the people, then Bill got permission to take us waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off the tour path.

It was dark with condensation dripping down the walls and splashing into standing pools of water. Sloppy, wet, red clay soaked into our shoes while we picked our way over slippery rocks, past giant blast holes, cave ins and blast rubble and fallen support beams. It was SO cool. Best of all, there were bats back there. Not a ton because the majority has already made their way outside and were happily catching mosquitoes and every other kind of annoying bug. But the few young males that were back there were fantastic. They're really quite tiny and definitely adorable (Yes, I know I'm mostly alone in thinking that, but I stand by my assessment.)

The best part of all of this, besides the fact that my family and I got to do something not a lot of other people get to do and it was fascinating, is that I will use this research - probably in more than one book. I know the mine itself will show in the YA novel I'm working on. I imagine it might show up in other stories too - as will the bats. :)

And I would have gotten to do this particular research at all if it hadn't been for the cold calls I was making in the process of doing other research! See? Research = Awesome!

Such an INTERESTING monster...

I will admit that I don't do a whole lot of 'actual' research. I tend to set my books in places I've actually been so I don't have to try to read a map (which is worse than watching me try to do math, honestly.) I don't write about objects or people that will come back to haunt me if I don't fact check about them. I write in present day so I don't have to be historically accurate. Mostly I do what I can to ensure I don't get angry reader letters.

Most of my research involves watching gay porn to make sure I am describing things correctly and reading vampire novels to make sure I'm not copying anyone but am still sticking to the canon of the myth. (Obviously that isn't real research but just things I like to do and can pass off as necessary for work.)

Research can also involve driving to visit Brynn, Bron, Simone and Mia to be reminded that I am indeed an author who has real, famous author friends. I can spend hours downloading songs from ITunes to create soundtracks to my books. I can cruise websites for pictures of hot guys for inspiration. I can watch vampire movies, read books for pleasure, and play on the internet and call it work. Though you can usually tell when I've been 'researching' too long because there is a big gap between book releases. *blush

There was one book that has been abandoned that required actual research. I was writing about illegal arms dealing and spent a long time researching military grade weapons and fairy cultures. After about the 2nd straight week of checking books out from the library and devouring all information I could find online I realized that at any moment the FBI was going to break down my door and arrest me if I didn't take a break.

And then the book died. :(

There may come a day that I revist it. I liked the character and I liked the concept. Maybe I could play around with it and fix up some of the plot issues and work on it again. After the current WIP. And after I finish the video of kittens in bowls I started watching a few minutes ago.

Damn you YouTube.

XoXoXo
Dakota

Research and Fun

Two subjects I don't really associate with one another. At least not in my mind. I was the kid in school who avoided research until the last possible moment. Or, I'd begin an essay and only look up the pieces of information I was missing.

The problem with that? I discovered that when you don't know anything about the subject on which you write, you suddenly need that information every other freakin' sentence. It's an addiction, kinda like the thesaurus when you're trying to be word-tastic, suddenly every word needs some sparkle added to it. Thank you Internet for Thesaurus.com. Just sayin'.

There are a few exceptions. There are also some works I won't mention by name because of their association. However, I did once research old English manor homes for a book. I discovered that there was an architect who build manors in the shape of alphabet letters. He was extremely popular in England and Germany. This was around the same time that symmetry was so important, that homes were designed to be symmetrical down to the nth degree. In several cases, a building would get a fake window on the outside in order to mirror the other wing of the house, even though the room didn't have or need one. I read cases where windows were faked on the inside of the house too, because rooms were thought to be more beautiful in symmetry. If there wasn't call for a second window on the outside, curtains would be put on the inside to make it look like one was there.

All this for a murder, mystery type book because I wanted to see if there was a precedent for buildings created in such a way where escape from a room with an apparent window would be difficult. I also used to to design a manor for the book where the character could stand at one end of the hall and not see someone standing at the beginning of the hall.

It all paid off, and it was fascinating. I spent two full days drawing the manor and each room in order to adequately describe it in the book when the time came.

If I thought writing would void me from research, I was wrong. So wrong. What I didn't expect was liking it so much. I guess it depends on the subject matter.

My Latest Neurosis...I mean, Challenge

My biggest freaking challenge is staying on track with my writing. Like everyone else, I have a million and seven things to do in any given week and trying to stay focused on writing in the midst of all the chaos requires a Herculean effort. Now you'd think it would be a no brainer to schedule writing time in there. Apparently, not. But! I'd like to report that I am getting better!

I'm distracted by any number of shiny things - some enjoyable (reading other people's books, editing other people's books, online shopping *damn you, Etsy!*, blog hopping, twitter, conversations, etc) and some far less enjoyable (driving kids to and from school, grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking, getting the car fixed, you get the idea.)

Lately, I've been plagued by another challenge. His name is Asher, and he's become a utter pain in my ass. In addition to having his story hanging over my head I've also had the dreaded expectation hanging there as well. So many people wrote to me to tell me how much they loved Asher. They asked if he was getting a book/when he was getting a book/if his book was finished yet. They begged me to finish it/demanded that I finished it/threatened me if I didn't finish it.

As you can imagine, there's been a fair amount of pressure in the writing of this story. I've been really worried that it won't live up to reader expectation. It's like when you're looking forward to a movie that's gotten a ton of hype and at the end you're left thinking, "That was it?"

Needless to say, this particular freakout has made writing this book waaaaaaaaaaaay more challenging than it probably needs to be. Hey...and I just realized that it's actually called, "Guardian's Challenge." Maybe that's where I went astray...

But soon, soon I'll be done, and I'll move on to the next challenge. After all, each book is a challenge in its own way. If it wasn't we probably would have gotten bored long ago and gone on to something else.

Ooh Ooh! Pick me! I'm challenged

I was so excited to see this blog topic. I have many, many challenges that I face daily in regards to writing. See, in case you didn't know, challenges is a fancy word for excuses not to write. (At least that's how I take it.)

Time - I am willing to bet this is the the number one challenge of all authors. Finding the time to sit at our computers and pound the keys can be really difficult. Between families, pets, obligations, and (for some of us) day jobs, it is a nightmare to find the time to talk to our imaginary friends.

Kids do not care that you have a scene burning in your mind. Spouses do not magically learn to cook just because you have a deadline. Little cartoon mice do not stop by periodically to finish your laundry and empty your dishwasher. No, all of this stuff needs to be done and somewhere in all of that we have books to write. It's amazing that anything ever gets published actually. I am exhausted just thinking about it.


Then there is the almighty lack of muse. I don't know of a single author who hasn't sat and stared at a blank computer screen, pleading with his/her muse to just offer up something. Some tiny little snippet of a scene, just anything to get us going again. But the muse is a tricky little bitch. Sometimes she is not in the mood to play. So she goes into hibernation and we are left to think that we will never write another word.

Doubt is a big issue for me. I often think that nothing will ever top Ethan and Jamie or Mitch. When I sit down to write it is always in the back of my mind "Why bother. It's not like anyone is going to care." This line of thinking can be a MAJOR buzzkill to future writing projects.

The internet is more of an actual excuse than a challenge, but damn is it tempting to just check my FaceBook. Or tweet my word count. Or see what my friends are doing. Or see what is going to be on sale next week at Meijer. Or check flights to Vegas. Or look at pictures of hot guys...you know, for inspiration. Or look at funny videos of auto-tuned cats. And before you know it the day is gone and your characters are still sitting on that f'ng boat! (For you B ;)

So as you can tell I am challenged. Wholly and completely. But I am working on it.

xoXoXo
Dakota

Harrrrrd

There are so many challenges in writing. You mean I have to pick one? Okay, I'm gonna say, staying motivated. This covers a lot of turf, so I feel like I can choose this one without really limiting myself. I'm not a girl who likes limits. Just ask Bron and Brynn about my propensity to "cross the line". I do it constantly.

In the case of writing, I have trouble staying motivated toward the end of a book. I hate endings. Not because they don't work out, but because they are so damn hard. HARD, I say. You have to tie up loose ends, you have to make sure there's a happy ending, and you have to make sure that it's satisfying for you and for the reader.

Staying motivated when I'm crunched for time or overworked is another problem. When I over schedule myself--as anyone who knows me, knows I do--I fall into the whine mode of "I don't wanna write. I have so much to do! *Wahhhh*" And when you get into that mode, it's more petulance than anything else, as to why I'm NOT writing. Shaking it off it tough--it's a rut you get into, a pattern that won't let you go unless you truly want it gone. The only way to make it gone, is to write through it.

I have a book coming out tomorrow, my first release with DreamSpinner entitled, Faking Perfection. It's the second of three releases this month and I'm not exaggerating when I say that getting and staying motivated to finish these on time, was a huge challenge.

I feel like I'm repeating myself. Sorry, if I am. I'm a little bit distracted. You see, I'm finishing up another story today. *sigh* Haaa-rd.

Writing Challenges

In my opinion the challenges you face as a writer will be different depending on where you are in life and in your career.

At different stages of my career I have had different challenges. While I've never lost belief in myself as a writer, motivation and discipline are occasional challenges. But the root of those challenges isn't with the writing, but in the not so perfect reality of my life. Stresses from life can carry over into your writing, causing you to lose faith in your abilities, your work, or even believing that it is okay to write while some part of your world is falling apart or just not as perfect as you want to.

Most days that I write it's in 45 minute blocks for several hours at a time. Now, some of that time I'm writing - on good days - it's a lot of writing. Other times, it's spent doing research or looking up one fact or another. On really bad days, I sit and stare and the computer screen and wish for words to appear - unfortunately they never do.

At the moment motivation is more of an issue and I love it when I can actually meet up with my friends and write. Even though we talk almost as much as we write, I get a lot accomplished and because it's never at my house, I'm rarely sidetracked.

Simone.

Maybe It's Just Me

What’s left to say?

Usually, I don’t read the other Evo blogs until after I’ve done my post. This week, I did since my mind often runs the same lines as the other bloggers here when it comes to these words, and I didn’t want a total repeat. For my top squidge words, see Bronwyn’s post yesterday. Mine are identical. Then add:

Rosette. Please no. Yes, it’s all puckery and… Just no, okay? Rosette doesn’t apply. I also just don’t need that much description. Thank you.

Seed. No thank you. This always reminds me how gritty and gross it is. Please. No.

Semen. Dakota mentioned vagina earlier this week as very medical. Semen falls into that same category for me. Yes, it’s the word. No, I don’t want to hear/read it.

Discharge and ooze. Unless it’s a pustulant wound…

Juice, as related to feminine moisture. Just no, okay?

Other words, I’m not fond of:

Panted. I do use this one extremely sparingly myself, but I avoid it as much as possible.

Grunted. I don’t like it for the hero and hate it for the heroine. If they’re in the bathroom doing their thing, fine. But I don’t want to hear about it.

Squeal. Pigs squeal. Little kids squeal. The hero probably shouldn’t unless he’s being tortured with hot pokers. Which beings me to scream. To me, scream is a girly word. Girls scream. Boys bellow. Just my preference. But let’s avoid the squeal.

Sound effect words…like…squishy. Writers are asked to write with all five senses which is sometimes a challenge. Sometimes you get to hear just how squishy and splashy and sloppy things are in that explosively wet area (don’t get me going on how some heroes should be drowning from all the floods coming from the heroine. Please, some of them must need life rings with the amount of it). It might just be me, but the “sound” of all that slapping wetness doesn’t do it…

All of these words are subjective. All of them on my list would get past an editor. On that note, maybe it is just me…

Words that must not be used in romance...ever.

Okay, so when the kids were little, for some reason they came up with the word ickybooboo whenever they were faced with something they didn’t like. I remember one day in particular when I had seven children smeared from head to toe with mulberry juice running around screeching “Ickybooboo, ickybooboo!” at the top of their little lungs while I was trying to hose them down.

Sometimes I feel like screeching “Ickybooboo” when I come across certain words. I’m guessing the reasons will be apparent when you see the list.

Let’s see...for female genitalia, there’s: slash, slit, twat, crotch, gash (yes, I’ve read that) cunny (I know, it’s historically accurate, but ewww!) and portal. Portal makes me think that you could walk right on in and if you spoke there would be an echo-echo-echo.

Then there are nipples. They should never be described as pencil erasers, nubbins or gum drops. I can’t tell you the disturbing images that come to mind when I read that, but I think this creepy picture from one of the creepiest freaking cartoons I’ve ever seen illustrates it perfectly. The cartoon is “Flapjack” and the woman in the middle is known as the “Candy Wife.” Go there with me for a minute people...are you there? Yes? Okay. I think we’re in agreement. No gum drops nipples.

For male bits, I really dislike knob, rocks, jizz, spunk and spooge. Oh! And compliments of LKH, “meat”. I’m sorry, but meat is meant to be cooked. It’s not sexy. It’s raw and disgusting. The idea of man meat makes my skin crawl. See also “beef”. Beef belongs in the crockpot, not a romance novel.

I’m sure there are more words that bug me. Some of them I’ve even used. I do write erotic romance and there are only so many times in a scene that you can use a word. But that said, I’m pretty sure I’ve never used any of the above, and I sure as hell never plan on it either!

Smokin'

Before I start this weeks post can I just say how much I love this woman? In case you don't know this is Helena Bonham Carter. I absolutely adore her. She is probably one of my favorite actresses, if not my very favorite. I just wanted to share this hot ass picture of her. She is 44 years old and still SMOKIN' hot. Just sayin'. With all the man love I do on this blog on a regular basis I wanted to share some girl love too. Because as the song goes "Naughty girls need love too."

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. By the way, aren't you all proud of me? I've stuck to the actual topics for weeks now. Pretty impressive, huh?

So, cringeworthy words.

I am not a fan of proper words for genitalia. I've gotten my clock verbally cleaned in the past for my opinion on this topic. But I still have to say that when I'm reading a scene and the characters are going after each other hot and heavy then he puts his penis in her vagina, it sort of kills the mood for me. The words are so sterile. I much prefer the 'harder' (excuse my pun) words for body parts. I will even accept such words as tool...and I'm sure there are other prosey words too. Vagina is more irritating to me than penis. I don't know why. I guess it makes me think of gynecologists offices instead of erotica. I'm pretty sure this is just me, so please don't judge. It's just my opinion and not necessarily the opinion of the Writer's Evolution Blog or it's partners.

Ok, so the video has absolutely NOTHING to do with this post. But it made me laugh a lot and I wanted to share.

This post is obviously difficult for me. I don't cringe very often. There are certainly words and phrases that irritate the piss out of me, but they aren't really romance specific. I can't stand mispronunciations such as Valentimes, Libary, Pellow and the like. Don't Pasketti me or I'll rip your face off. (Not literally.)

So I'm going to sign off now and check out more things I ought to know on YouTube because that is how I'm feeling today.

Love ya!
Dakota

Puckered orifices and gushing fluids

Words that make me cringe? Of them, I have many. I also use some of them because the genre dictates it, but I cringe each and every time I have to type it out.

1. Pussy. Makes me think of a lecherous old man with sloppy lips and snaggly teeth, a dirty glint in his eye as he tries to trick an EXTREME minor into sex play. Don't know why. It just does and therefore I hate it. Though "cunt" is horrible, I'm less offended by it in narrative than pussy. But as an insult? Yeah, cunt is far worse.

2. Sphincter. Very technical and actually brings to mind the wet, muscular movements of the internal colon, which is way not sexy.

3. Vulva. It's just vulger. Or has an engine and four wheels.

4. Pootang. Okay, no one uses this in my world, but I still hate it.

5. Hot box. I used to love a song by Pozzak called Hot Box. I thought it referred to a sexy butt. I sang it at the top of my lungs with the windows down in Minnesota. Perhaps Chaos Chris heard me. "I want to watch, I want to watch your hot box. Move it, groove it. I want to watch your hot box." Yeah, I'm a delicate lady of breeding. I know.

6. Ass. But(t) only for the first few mentions. After that, I've acclimated and it's all good.

7. Clit. Yep. This one bugs me. It sounds harsh. The word is clitoris, which doesn't make it better, just more clinical. Still, I don't know that I can say "clit" outloud and I'm hardly a prude.

8. Labia. *shiver* I can't even go there to tell you why. Just sounds floppy and soggy to me.

*I'm noticing that most of my ick words, are related to female anatomy. Coincidence? Hm.*

9. Love handle. Um. No. I shouldn't have to explain this.

10. Gush. Please people. We are not geysers of sexual juices. I especially hate this when referring to woman cumming. Gush? Really? Are you soupy down there? Holding back a damn? I'm worried about your hydration levels after sex if you are gushing.

11. Dripping moisture. Even the combination of those words sounds disgusting. Say it out loud. Say it slowwwwwly. "Driiiiping. Mmmm-ois-sture." Ew. Yuck. And again with the excess body fluids. See a doctor about that shit.

12. Pucker. There isn't a part of your, or his, anatomy that looks good puckered. Maybe a nipple, but that's possibly it.

13. I'm stopping here. I'm disgusted. Yuck. Ew. This is going to be a trying week.

There. I've grossed you all out. Yay me? I'm so sorry you had to come here with me.

Things That Make Me Go Ewwww

Well maybe not ewww, but definitely make me cringe. The thing I love about e-books is the freedom to say words like cock, penis, pussy...wait, I don't use that one, but others do, and I can read it. As oppose to the more colorful euphemisms such as throbbing marble pillar of love, portal of ecstasy, and many others. I know there are others, because I've read them. I just can't remember them right now.

I am supposed to be writing about things in romance that make me cringe, but the images of Japan and the results of the Tsunami and Earthquake are burned in my mind. For four years a very tiny island in Japan was my home, my daughter was born there. The buildings are designed to withstand the earthquakes, but little can be done to guard against a 33-foot wall of water crashing down on the island. A friend of mine has family on the island, out of the danger zone thankfully, but some body has someone who is there, so keep them in your thoughts and prayers. Help in some way if you choose to.

Simone.

Print or E

Good morning! I don’t have much to add on the red-headed stepchildren eBooks versus the Print book royal family, so I’ve asked Mr. Colin Smith to return this week to discuss this issue. He’s brought along his heroine Olivia.

Brynn: So tell me about your book ‘connection’ and how each genre affects you.

Colin: Livvy, you can go first.

Olivia: Thank you, Sir. I’m a librarian so, of course, the advent of eBooks affects me greatly. There are good and bad things here. With eBooks, more space is afforded, but the personal connection is lost. A librarian becomes somewhat irrelevant. People can borrow books online and never set foot into one of our buildings. You lose the smell of books… Have you ever opened a brand new book or a book that’s been on a library shelf for a long time? They both have wonderfully individual scents. I could close my eyes and breathe it in forever. Also, with eBooks, you lose the ability to flip through the book and see if it’s what you want or to find treasures within the pages as you’re browsing. You must rely on the book’s write up and perhaps an excerpt. Amazon has a feature to show random pages of a book, but it’s not quite the same. That said, I still like eBooks. I think they make reading more accessible and people are loving it if reader sales are any indication. I just fear older paper-only books being left as dust.

Colin: I’m a writer. While I’m primarily published in the New York paper market, I see eBooks as the wave of the future. I’m glad to see so many mass market books going digital. It’s environmentally friendly and, like Livvy said, opens the market to more people. There’s only so much space on the planet, and book lovers are often faced with the problem of where to store their favorite books. They have to get rid of titles they like or choose not to buy a book at all because they don’t have space.

Olivia: They could borrow from the library, Mr. Smith.

Colin: They could, but they might like owning books. With digital books, they can have thousands with only the space restriction of their digital space. USB drives, hard drives and memory card often measure in the gigabyte today. Some are even as large as a terabyte. That’s a lot of books. Digital books also offer far more opportunities for writers. Publishing houses aren’t as limited by the cost of print runs. They can more easily take a chance on a new writer and even take on and put out more books per year.

Olivia: Maybe I should look at a job change. Perhaps to writer.

Colin: You’re talented enough, but you also work in the reference section of the library. I don’t see reference materials going away anytime soon. I find those sorts of books are really difficult to use on an eReader or computer. They’re also more difficult to use for notes. You can bookmark a page but what if you only want a single paragraph of sentence? Digital readers don’t yet have a good highlight function. If a good online format can be developed, it could save schools a huge amount of money. Of course, people who are interested in subjects they might be embarrassed to get in paper, like BDSM, are more likely to buy from digital sources.

Olivia: What about kids? We give toddlers eReaders? We develop a drool and slam proof version? They build small motor skills by pushing buttons rather than flipping pages?

Colin: There’s still a lot of development. Change is coming, but it won’t be tomorrow. In my profession, I’m glad for the changes. As a man on the go, I like being able to take my books with me on a reader, computer or my smart phone.

Olivia: I’m glad more people are reading, but I see problems. We need paper for those people who don’t want to use digital or who just can’t afford readers. We need to offer more accessibility than eBooks provide.

Colin: And maybe a built in scent dispenser?

Olivia: Good idea. Maybe on the next generation of Kindle. I think eBooks are the next generation of books, but I do think they’re the death of the old school and they need more development.

Brynn: All good points. Thank you both for being here today.

Colin: Thank you. So, now that we’ve helped you, will you please complete our book?

Brynn: Today.

Olivia: Finally.

Choices, choices...

Okay...so...this is a tricky question.

Here's the thing. I love books. I love the way they feel in my hands. I love the way they smell. I love the sensation of turning pages. I love tucking things between the pages and finding them later like little notes and surprises from my past self.

But, I also love e-books. I love that I can read a book on my phone while I'm waiting for the kids to get out of school or waiting at an appointment. I love that someday (soonish) I'll have an iPad to read on. I love that I'll be able to have my entire ebook collection at my fingertips.

I also like that they're more environmentally friendly than paper books, but, like everyone else, I hate that they're so easily pirated. But they're also better when it comes to moving. Between the rock collection and eight sets of book shelves jam packed with books, no one ever wants to help me move.

So, I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sort of like a hung jury. I love them both and I can't seem to choose between them.

My Jury is in

Let me preface this post by saying that I love EBooks. I love the industry. I love, love, love my publishers. I love the ease of use of EBook readers. I can carry 81,000books in my purse and I love that too.

HOWEVER, there is one major fucking drawback to EBooks. To all digital media actually. The filthy fucking pirates. Those cocky bastards who feel that if it is online it should be free. Those bottom feeding assholes who steal EBooks right and left like they are entitled to them without paying. I hate those freakin’ ass hats. (In case you didn’t know.)

This is something new to the publishing industry. Back in the day it was a lot harder for thieves to steal every book an author wrote. It wasn’t like a shoplifter would walk in to the Barnes and Noble and fill their pockets with the Chronicles of Narnia and walk out. But now with the invention of EBooks it is so much easier for these shoplifters, and that is what you are you greasy pigs, to go online and file share our hard work.

For some reason Napster wasn’t enough of a warning and publishers were not prepared for the onslaught of theft that is ravaging author’s bank accounts. The government is only now catching on to the fact that this is an issue. But I don’t see any FBI raids busting down these people’s doors yet, so I don’t know what is going to be accomplished in the long run.

I think prison time and hefty fines are in order. Send a message. Shut down these stupid file sharing sites. Publicly flog everyone who wants to ‘try out an author for the 112th time before actually spending money on one of their books.’ Make an example out of these morons who cannot comprehend that taking something that costs money and not paying for it IS A FUCKING CRIME. IT IS STEALING. YOU ARE A THIEF. I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL.

Thank you
Dakota Rebel

*I would like to add, since I just read Mia's post, that I too enjoy curling up with a physical book. There is a joy in actual page turning that will never be filled by a Kindle or a Nook.

I think there will always be a place for EBooks and Print books to exist together. There isn't a person who considers themselves a reader that will not find needs for both venues.

Ebook vs. Print from behind the scenes

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post, but since I'm a talker, I'll most likely figure it out by the time I finish.

I write ebooks. Some of them have gone to print, which is super nifty. Some of them haven't, which is fine. Here's a take on it from an author's perspective:

Ebooks:

1. Submissions are answered very quickly. Though you might be told you'll receive an answer in 4-6 months, you'll likely have one in 2 or less. Good luck getting that from a NY pub.

2. When you have a submission accepted, going to print happens fairly quickly. Under a year in many cases. NY, could be 18 months or longer.

3. Royalties are substantially higher.

4. International sales are via Web. There's no waiting for other countries to purchase rights.

5. Hey, audiobooks can result.

6. Monthly or quarterly pay. Though most houses seem to be looking at quarterly payments, NY is typically six months out.

7. Paypal. Easy depositing, easy record keeping for royalty payments for ePubs that use it.

8. Your readership is probably already familiar with the web, therefore promo becomes less expensive.

9. It's green. Go green!

NY Publication:

1. It's NY. Though the gap is less wide than it used to be, there is still a bias. "Are you a real writer, or just an internet story writer?" (which pisses most of us eAuthors right off)

2. Advances. NY has them. Only a very few ePubs do advances, and those that do will not offer you the same numbers NY will.

3. Royalties may be lower, but the audience for print is HUGE and you may earn more via NY, unless you are a big ePub name.

4. With Amazon being the force it is, International sales are also an option via the Internet. It just requires appropriate shipping.

5. Hey, Audiobooks can result. (what? you expected me to contradict this?)

6. The NY houses do a lot of promo for their authors. They absorb a lot of those costs as part of the deal, and the promo they do is more glamorous in some cases.

7. You just destroyed a forest of trees. BUT many NY pubs do offer their stock in eFormats now.

Okay, really, I hold no grudge against either. They both have a place in our society. In certain circumstances, one may work better than the other. On an airplane, I'm taking a reader. In my bedroom, I'm curling up with a book. Or a man holding a book.

Both are great options, depending on your need. There just isn't that much of a gap there anymore and it's time respect was given to both. Just read, maybe, how's that for an idea?

A or B - Choose One

Print Book vs. E-Book

Yes.
Both.

Which is better than the last two answers I gave the last time I was asked this question.

Ever get those questions that ask you to choose A or B? That's kinda of what I feel like when I saw the topic was print vs. e-book. That's like being asked to choose between two gorgeous men. I'm going to be greedy and say yes, please both.

I love to read. My house is full of books and I continue to get more. I see nothing bad or worth changing in that.

There pros and cons to each one.
= Catastrophe can take them both away. Shiver - so not thinking about that one too much.
= Kids can destroy paper books
= Kids can delete e-books - they can also fry the mother board of a computer when wondering if the computer needs to eat their lunch.
= Books are heavy, especially when you have to move.
= E-books don't have the same feel or smell or memory associated with them as regular books.
= If you're going on vacation or traveling taking multiple e-books with you is more convenient and lighter than taking 2 or 3 or more (if you read really fast or continuously) books.
= Both are conversation starters

I'm sure there are more, but my brain is slightly fried and there are 4 more posts to look forward too. Either way, I can't find every book I want to read in both formats.

Traditional print houses are only starting to move into e-books and not very fast and not with every book I want to read. Which is okay, because I like books. I find that text books and procedurals, cookbooks and other similar non-fiction or reference books work better for me when I can open them up and flip to the pages I need. Especially if there are diagrams or examples.

I have not really cut down on the number of print books I buy or the number of e-books I buy. And they live side by side in my house - because every single room in my house has at least three books in it. And my desk is filled with books and magazines because I like to read and the research books I needed don't come in e-format. Whatever your preference reading is fun and should be encouraged!

Enjoy,
Simone

Taming Mr. Smith

My arms crossed in disgust as I dangled upside down from the rope around my ankle. My long hair—freshly washed, damn it—brushed the dirt beneath the trap. Apparently, the prisoners had escaped again. The men had far too many skills and too much determination. But as I watched the Cress brothers hightail it into the hills, I knew who’d fashioned this trap.

“Colin!” I yelled, although to tell the truth it was more of a screech than anything else. It might have been from the blood pounding in my ears.

“Yeah?” he asked indolently leaning against a nearby fence with his arms crossed over his chest. It was then that I wondered where his shirt had gone. In fact, where had the shirts gone for all the buff men milling about. Aside from the missing Cresses, there was a sea of muscled biceps, flexing pecs and washboard bellies scattered about the area. Fifty sets of them, if I counted the men in my published books and current works in progress and subtracted the escapees.

I was concerned with only one of the men. The one who’d frequently hijacked my writing time before it was time for his book and who, now, thought he could take over and control my life. Mr. Smith. Mr. Colin Smith.

“What the hell, Colin?” I demanded gesturing at the rope and managing to set the contraption into a sickening, stomach-roiling swing.

“I need more of your attention.”

“Office hours are from—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he cut in with his blandly amused British clip. “What part of alpha-male Dom says ‘contained in a corner’?”

“I didn’t write you into a corner.”

“Right. You write me into corners all day long then I have to ferret my way out. And you know that’s not what I mean. Your writing time doesn’t meet my needs. Expand. I want more time.”

“Um-hmm,” I replied drily.

“And do more research. I’m very intrigued with the new contraptions you’ve come across. You’ve got some lovely ideas I’d like to try on Livvy.”

“Um-hmm.”

“And wax. I want some wax. Hot wax. Livvy claims she likes it.”

“You want to get a wax? Brazilian?”

He scowled. “I have my whip handy.”

“Try it on me and I’ll write off your balls. Do you really want to be a eunuch?”

His eyebrow raised. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Can I at least get the blow job you promised?”

“Not from me.”

“Bollocks, no! Bloody hell. Of course, not from you. Livvy wouldn’t take that well.”

“And I thought you were the Dom.”

“Yes, I fucking am. And I don’t cheat.’

“Good.”

“You were testing me?” he growled.

“What do you think?”

“You little snipe—”

“Watch it. I’m still the author and I still have control of your balls. I could easily make you a switch. You could be the submissive for awhile.”

“Oh no I fucking won’t!”

“You have really bad language. When did that happen?” I asked. He’d always seemed so polite before.

“You’re pissing me off.”

“Well, join the club. I have a rope around my ankle. I’m hanging upside down and all the blood in my head is going to give me a migraine. If you don’t let me down, I won’t be able to write. I’ll have to lay of the couch with a cool cloth over my eyes while you fan me and read to me in your lovely British voice.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered indignantly.

I grinned. “You just said you don’t cheat.”

Colin growled and pulled out his pocketknife.

“Do not drop me on my head!” I exclaimed.

He smiled, the devil gleaming in his eyes as he found his control once more. “We’ll see.”

An Unfortunate Conversation with Asher

"Seriously?"

I glanced up to find Asher in front of me, single eyebrow arched upward; annoyance and disgust clear on his face. "What?"

He shook his head and paced away. "I can't believe you."

"What's your childhood trauma, anyway?"

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to finish my damn story?"

Sighing, I rubbed my hand across my eyes, wishing he'd go away. "Look, I know it's been a while."

"Micah's story came out in March of 2007. You promised me then that you'd tell my story. It's now March of 2011."

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking. "I've been working on it."

"Really?" He stared pointedly at the iPhone in my hand. "Because it looks like you've been playing phone Scrabble with Brynn. Again." He stepped closer. "And losing epically, I see."

"Tell me about it. Her husband is beating me, too."

He sat down in the antique chair across from me, long legs spread out in front of him, his body too big for the delicate wooden frame. "It's not like you don't have people asking for it. The lovely Dakota Rebel, for instance. She's asked on more than once occasion. And I've seen the reader mail."

I twisted the ring around my thumb, resisting the urge to take it off and peg him in the forehead with it. "It's complicated."

"You know what's complicated?" he asked, pushing himself from the chair. "Having finally found the woman of my dreams and having a hard-on for two and a half years and not being able to do anything about it because you refuse to open the bloody document. That's complicated. I've seen those commercials, I know they're not supposed to last longer than four hours. Of course, I am a romance novel hero, so a little longer is expected, but come on, woman! Two and a half years? I think you're trying to kill me."

"But I--"

"But nothing. And now? Now when you finally start writing our story again, you sink the ship we're on, and--"

"Hey now, that was at my editor's suggestion. And frankly, it's the best bit of editorial advice I've gotten in ages. It totally moved the stalled plot forward."

"You tried to drown us!"

"Did not!"

Asher dragged his hands through his hair and narrowed his eyes, looking for all the world like he wanted to strangle me.

"You. Sank. The. Ship. We. Were. On."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "And?"

"At night. Not knowing if we could swim. You separated us. I was terrified you'd killed Neeve. You did kill some of those sailors."

"Weeeeeell, they were really more plot device than characters, though."

"They were--I--you..." He stared at me for several long moments. Somehow, I managed to hold his gaze. "I'm sure that will bring lots of comfort to their loved ones," he finally snapped.

I put down my phone and stood to face him. "If I promise to get your book finished in the next couple of weeks, will you please go away?"

"I've heard that before." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're not my only character, you know. I do have a job to do." I knew I was sounding pissy, but I didn't particularly care.

"Fine. I want my HE-effing-A by the end of the month. No excuses. Or next time I'll come back with reinforcements. I'm thinking Aidan, Tamsyn, Devon, that one poor bastard whose name you keep changing, oh, and the families of the dead plot devices."

"Guh! All right already. I'm on it. Just go away so I can think!"

"Don't even think about trying to play another word with Brynn. You've got all vowels, anyway."

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that. Now, get writing."

Miss March

Is anyone else blown away by the fact that it is already March? It can't just be me, right? The year is almost a quarter gone already. Really? What the hell happened?

Anyway, this is one of those topics that make me cringe. I think about it and think about it and tend to just throw up a picture or twelve of hot guys and say ‘See ya.’ But I kind of wanted to attempt this one. It’s been on the sidebar for weeks so I’ve had ample time to prepare. Unfortunately, it is now the week of and here I am lost as to what I should do. I have so many heroes, but I don’t know that I would be able to have an intelligent conversation with any of them.

And is it supposed to be our favorite heroes from our own books? If so let’s go with Jamie McHale.

“So you’re banging Ethan Connor pretty regularly, huh?”
“Well, we fuck all the time, but it’s rarely ‘regular,” he says with a wink.
My cheeks flush as I remember watching the two of them bust a table in my imagination, their bodies hot and sweaty and naked…
Woo, um.

Moving on.

Maybe the topic meant a scene with my overall favorite hero from any work.

Hamlet: To be or not to be, that is the question.
Me: To be what?
Hamlet: Whether tis nobler-
Me: Shut up and kiss me.
Hamlet: What?
Me: I said shut up and kiss me. Right now. On the mouth.
Hamlet: My dear lady.
Me: Don’t you dear lady me you hot, blond, crazy person. Get your sexy lips over here and stick your tongue in my mouth.
Hamlet: This is highly unlady like.
Me: You're a jerk.

*Sigh. This isn’t going well. You know, there aren't a lot of heroes that I would have meaningful conversations with. Mostly I just want to snog hot guys. Harry Potter (the later, LEGAL, years.) Ardeth Bay. Edward Cullen.

Yeah, mostly I just want to look at pictures of hot guys and practice kissing my pillows. How about you?









XoXoXo
Dakota

A scene with Bronwyn

Why,  you may ask? Because I wrote this after Bronwyn told me she loved my hero. :) So, since it's easier for me to use her than me in this scene... here ya go.

Rain poured down over Lothar's dark head. He could feel her at his back, waiting for an answer. The night sky offered no light, obscuring starlight by the murky clouds which mirrored his confusion. How? How could this woman make him feel so needy. He shifted his weight and dropped his hands on his jean-clad hips. Dark tendrils hung down over his vision, but he wasn't trying to see anything anyway. Not when she absorbed every ounce of his attention and filled his senses with her unique smoky scent.

"So you're just going to leave? I tell you someone tried to break into my home and you're going to walk away?"

Her husky voice stroked his cock like velvet. No amount of shifting would hide her affect on him.

"Bronwyn. What do you want me to say?" He turned, searching her wide blue eyes and damp curled hair. Everything about her was intensely precious. But she was taken. She belonged to another. "You want me to confess that I would hunt the intruder down and rip him limb from limb for you? I'd do it. You know I would if you asked. Mr. Green is your mate. Stepping in for him would dishonor both of you."

"But you'll still help?" she asked.

Lothar ran a hand through his hair. His mind cleared and a smile touched his lips. He stepped toward her. Predictably Bronwyn stepped back, hitting the wall behind her. Her pale cheeks rushed with color and she brought a hand to his chest. If she meant to stay him, she'd failed. That simple touch made his pulse race with need.

"I'll help you," he whispered.

"I sense a but in there."

His smile widened. "For a kiss. Just one and I'll never mention it again."

"Pretty sure Green wouldn't appreciate it," Bronwyn protested weakly.

"Green's not here." Lothar closed the distance, noting the reluctant give in her elbow. Her hand heated his skin through the rain-cool shirt. He felt his smile tip toward anticipation when her lashes fluttered down, her eyes directed at the wayward palm and her smallish fingers. Her lips parted on a word she seemed incapable of speaking. She couldn't help but feel his hammering heart.

The rain had taken liberties with her too. The peasant shirt sagged the sleeve on one shoulder with the weight of the water. It wouldn't have mattered. The thin material, nearly transparent when wet, plastered against her fragrant skin and sensible bra. He liked that about her. Bronwyn was always sensible even when she pretended not to be. It was one of the qualities which made her irresistible.

The long skirt she wore had ceased whipping around her calves in the wind, it too, heavy with moisture. Now it clung to her, enticed him with the sly revelation of her woman's hips. God he wanted her. Damn Green for finding her first. He'd waited lifetimes for a woman like Bronwyn. Someone who saw him without even trying, who knew things about him when he was loathe to speak them aloud. And even now, shivering in the rain her eyes filled with indecision and curiosity, she knew he'd do it.

His hands slipped from his waist to hers, giving her time to adjust to the change in what his position meant to her immediate peace of mind. He'd give her that much. But not enough to get away or think too much about what he'd asked of her. Lothar dipped his head, haltingly. A drop of rain slipped from a forelock onto her cheek. Bronwyn blinked, still not having met his gaze. He'd wait.

"One," he repeated gently. He couldn't help himself. Gently stroking her jaw with his thumb, he hooked a finger under her chin and lifted. Her eyes stayed down.

"Green..." she said uselessly.

"Has you everyday of his life and I'll have to live with that. Right here, right now, there is only this."

Her lashes flicked up. Blue-grey with concern and self-doubt they darted between his. Could she see that he never wanted just this moment? That he'd relive this for a lifetime, selfishly going over the details? The way a strand of her fine hair curled on her cheek, the clumped lashes from when she'd chased him down to ask for help. The breathless puffs from parted pink lips he knew would hold the secrets of his heart through this lifetime and the next.

And still he waited. For her.

"He wouldn't understand if he found out and I love him," she said.

She seemed to know that would sting him. A tiny wrinkle appeared over the bridge of her nose. Lothar brushed his lips across it. Bronwyn sighed. Her fingers curled into his chest.

"Please," he whispered against her temple. He pulled his head back to look earnestly into her face.

The rain lessened as though it too waited for her answer. Lothar's fingers still at one hip, pulled her gently toward him, toward the evidence of his arousal. He stared into her wide blue eyes as she blinked past a moment of dazed sensation and he witnessed the moment of her acquiescence.

"Just one," she said. Her lips trembled over the two words that would fill his heart and keep him hungrily awake for her.

Lothar groaned softly. Lowering his head, his lips met hers. Warm, not cold like the rain, their mouths slid together in a sweet blessing. Bronwyn raised up on her toes and her soft cheek beneath his thumb was no longer enough. Lothar slid his hand into the mass of wet golden hair, cradling her skull as he tasted her.

Their lips parted for air, yet remained crushed together. He couldn't let her go. Not yet. Not yet. Slanting his lips, he took her mouth, greedily this time. Yes, this is what he'd wanted. This that Green had and Lothar would envy. God, he wanted this. Her smoky scent and sweet flavor intoxicated him as he swept his tongue inside and relished her strangled moan.

Her hand on his chest pressed shakily. Enough to break the magic of that shared kiss. "Just one," she reminded.

Lothar closed his eyes. He tucked his chin by way of acknowledgment. He'd overstepped. No matter how much he wanted to continue, or how much her moan spoke to her own hunger, he owed her that. "Just one," he agreed.

He lifted his chin and took a step back. "You asked for my help. I give it to you freely."

"Thank you."

He smiled sadly. "Bronwyn, you've always commanded me, whether you realize it or not. I'd have helped you anyway, regardless of the kiss."

"I know," she said, with a smile of her own.