R.B. O'Brien's Blog, page 13
October 9, 2016
I. Am. Me. "It don't matter what my name is. I'm not famous and I don't hate it."
ENJOY MY LATEST TEASER
THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret
BUY LINK:
amzn.to/2d5eGsa
I wanted to share another teaser with you today from the second book in my Thorne series, Rose’s Dark Secret, really my favorite in the series so far. The first I loved—as it came out of another series I had published on literotica that was quite popular--but the second, for me, really starts to unravel the complexities of the characters, their psyches, their layers. Nothing is ever what it seems, is it? True. And neither am I.
Please don’t laugh at me. "I'm not famous...It don't matter what my name...and I don't hate it." But I have a confession to make. Okay. It’s not really a confession per se (but now that I have your attention), here it is: I’m kind of sort of just a little bit proud of myself. Yup. There. I said it. And I don't care how small my accomplishment is. I'm going to embrace for one moment.
Only a few short months ago last February I started my journey into self-publishing. I had absolutely no idea how to do any of it. Rewind a year before that. I signed with a small epublisher to share my story of Natalie with the world, and I was even a bit more clueless then. No Twitter. No Facebook. No website. I had to start all of that myself. Slowly but surely, things grew. Add in a newsletter, a blog, a writing support group known as the WPW, and now video teasers, I truly have come a very long way.
Some of it has been super rewarding. I’ve met great people and friends, have seen my audience and fans and sales grow, and have a safe outlet to explore my kinks, my fantasies, and my creativity. I look forward to creating teasers, writing posts and tweets and blogs, and working to write my next work or if I’m being honest, works.
Some of it hasn’t been. I’ve met some real louses. Some liars. Some narcissists. I’ve watched people come and go out of my life who were so-called friends. Won and as quickly lost in love. I’ve been betrayed. Stomped on. Crucified. Depicted unfairly. I’ve even suspected that a few “friends” have ripped off some of my writing almost verbatim (why they would want to is a mystery). See my former blog post about lying:
rbobrien.weebly.com/blog-posts/lying-cheating-deceitoh-my
And a friend I recently made told me to tread carefully, to always wear a mask, to be sure to never, for one second, let that mask drop. That RB is a character. Just like the characters in my fiction. She is? I asked. Yes, he said. She is.
But she isn’t. And maybe that’s where I get into trouble. Everything I feel, think, do, write, believe, share. It’s all versions of me. So what that it’s presented under the name RB?
My real name is not RB. But my hopes, my dreams, my love for romance and the erotic and Shakespeare and EE Cummings and Hemingway and Plath and Nin is me. My sense of loyalty to friends and commitment to supporting them is me. My love for dance and music and family is me. My penchant to question and fear the unknown and to ask too many questions and suffer from grave insecurities is me. My sexual appetite is me. And my ability to smile and love is, indeed, me. Regardless what name I am. I. Am. Me. For better. Or for worse.
And right now, the need to absorb happiness is me. I want to bask in this small, ephemeral moment--this feeling of pride. For that too is me, just as surely as I know that tomorrow the clouds may very well roll back in to steal this moment away as if it never existed at all. For I am a writer, a soul tortured by that inner, nagging voice that never sleeps. And that, too, is me. "It don't matter what my name is. I don't got one. I'm not famous.: ;)
THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret
BUY LINK:
amzn.to/2d5eGsa
I wanted to share another teaser with you today from the second book in my Thorne series, Rose’s Dark Secret, really my favorite in the series so far. The first I loved—as it came out of another series I had published on literotica that was quite popular--but the second, for me, really starts to unravel the complexities of the characters, their psyches, their layers. Nothing is ever what it seems, is it? True. And neither am I.Please don’t laugh at me. "I'm not famous...It don't matter what my name...and I don't hate it." But I have a confession to make. Okay. It’s not really a confession per se (but now that I have your attention), here it is: I’m kind of sort of just a little bit proud of myself. Yup. There. I said it. And I don't care how small my accomplishment is. I'm going to embrace for one moment.
Only a few short months ago last February I started my journey into self-publishing. I had absolutely no idea how to do any of it. Rewind a year before that. I signed with a small epublisher to share my story of Natalie with the world, and I was even a bit more clueless then. No Twitter. No Facebook. No website. I had to start all of that myself. Slowly but surely, things grew. Add in a newsletter, a blog, a writing support group known as the WPW, and now video teasers, I truly have come a very long way.
Some of it has been super rewarding. I’ve met great people and friends, have seen my audience and fans and sales grow, and have a safe outlet to explore my kinks, my fantasies, and my creativity. I look forward to creating teasers, writing posts and tweets and blogs, and working to write my next work or if I’m being honest, works.
Some of it hasn’t been. I’ve met some real louses. Some liars. Some narcissists. I’ve watched people come and go out of my life who were so-called friends. Won and as quickly lost in love. I’ve been betrayed. Stomped on. Crucified. Depicted unfairly. I’ve even suspected that a few “friends” have ripped off some of my writing almost verbatim (why they would want to is a mystery). See my former blog post about lying:
rbobrien.weebly.com/blog-posts/lying-cheating-deceitoh-my
And a friend I recently made told me to tread carefully, to always wear a mask, to be sure to never, for one second, let that mask drop. That RB is a character. Just like the characters in my fiction. She is? I asked. Yes, he said. She is.
But she isn’t. And maybe that’s where I get into trouble. Everything I feel, think, do, write, believe, share. It’s all versions of me. So what that it’s presented under the name RB?
My real name is not RB. But my hopes, my dreams, my love for romance and the erotic and Shakespeare and EE Cummings and Hemingway and Plath and Nin is me. My sense of loyalty to friends and commitment to supporting them is me. My love for dance and music and family is me. My penchant to question and fear the unknown and to ask too many questions and suffer from grave insecurities is me. My sexual appetite is me. And my ability to smile and love is, indeed, me. Regardless what name I am. I. Am. Me. For better. Or for worse.
And right now, the need to absorb happiness is me. I want to bask in this small, ephemeral moment--this feeling of pride. For that too is me, just as surely as I know that tomorrow the clouds may very well roll back in to steal this moment away as if it never existed at all. For I am a writer, a soul tortured by that inner, nagging voice that never sleeps. And that, too, is me. "It don't matter what my name is. I don't got one. I'm not famous.: ;)
I. Am. Me.
ENJOY MY LATEST TEASER
THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret
BUY LINK:
amzn.to/2d5eGsa
I wanted to share another teaser with you today from the second book in my Thorne series, Rose’s Dark Secret, really my favorite in the series so far. The first I loved—as it came out of another series I had published on literotica that was quite popular--but the second, for me, really starts to unravel the complexities of the characters, their psyches, their layers. Nothing is ever what it seems, is it? True. And neither am I.
Please don’t laugh at me. But I have a confession to make. Okay. It’s not really a confession per se (but now that I have your attention), here it is: I’m kind of sort of just a little bit proud of myself.
Only a few short months ago last February I started my journey into self-publishing. I had absolutely no idea how to do any of it. Rewind a year before that. I signed with a small epublisher to share my story of Natalie with the world, and I was even a bit more clueless then. No Twitter. No Facebook. No website. I had to start all of that myself. Slowly but surely, things grew. Add in a newsletter, a blog, a writing support group known as the WPW, and now video teasers, I truly have come a very long way.
Some of it has been super rewarding. I’ve met great people and friends, have seen my audience and fans and sales grow, and have a safe outlet to explore my kinks, my fantasies, and my creativity. I look forward to creating teasers, writing posts and tweets and blogs, and working to write my next work or if I’m being honest, works.
Some of it hasn’t been. I’ve met some real louses. Some liars. Some narcissists. I’ve watched people come and go out of my life who were so-called friends. Won and as quickly lost in love. I’ve been betrayed. Stomped on. Crucified. Depicted unfairly. I’ve even suspected that a few “friends” have ripped off some of my writing almost verbatim (why they would want to is a mystery).
See a former blog post here that touches on that more deeply:
rbobrien.weebly.com/blog-posts/lying-cheating-deceitoh-my
And a friend I recently made told me to tread carefully, to always wear a mask, to be sure to never, for one second, let that mask drop. That RB is a character. Just like the characters in my fiction. She is? I asked. Yes, he said. She is.
But she isn’t. And maybe that’s where I get into trouble. Everything I feel, think, do, write, believe, share. It’s all versions of me. So what that it’s presented under the name RB?
My real name is not RB. But my hopes, my dreams, my love for romance and the erotic and Shakespeare and EE Cummings and Hemingway and Plath and Nin is me. My sense of loyalty to friends and commitment to supporting them is me. My love for dance and music and family is me. My penchant to question and fear the unknown and to ask too many questions and suffer from grave insecurities is me. My sexual appetite is me. And my ability to smile and love is, indeed, me. Regardless what name I am. I. Am. Me. For better. Or for worse.
And right now, the need to absorb happiness is me. I want to bask in this small, ephemeral moment of this feeling of pride. For that too is me, just as surely as I also know that tomorrow the clouds may very well roll back in to steal this moment away as if it never existed at all. For I am a writer, a soul tortured by that inner voice that never sleeps. And that, too, is me. [image error]
THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret
BUY LINK:
amzn.to/2d5eGsa
I wanted to share another teaser with you today from the second book in my Thorne series, Rose’s Dark Secret, really my favorite in the series so far. The first I loved—as it came out of another series I had published on literotica that was quite popular--but the second, for me, really starts to unravel the complexities of the characters, their psyches, their layers. Nothing is ever what it seems, is it? True. And neither am I.Please don’t laugh at me. But I have a confession to make. Okay. It’s not really a confession per se (but now that I have your attention), here it is: I’m kind of sort of just a little bit proud of myself.
Only a few short months ago last February I started my journey into self-publishing. I had absolutely no idea how to do any of it. Rewind a year before that. I signed with a small epublisher to share my story of Natalie with the world, and I was even a bit more clueless then. No Twitter. No Facebook. No website. I had to start all of that myself. Slowly but surely, things grew. Add in a newsletter, a blog, a writing support group known as the WPW, and now video teasers, I truly have come a very long way.
Some of it has been super rewarding. I’ve met great people and friends, have seen my audience and fans and sales grow, and have a safe outlet to explore my kinks, my fantasies, and my creativity. I look forward to creating teasers, writing posts and tweets and blogs, and working to write my next work or if I’m being honest, works.
Some of it hasn’t been. I’ve met some real louses. Some liars. Some narcissists. I’ve watched people come and go out of my life who were so-called friends. Won and as quickly lost in love. I’ve been betrayed. Stomped on. Crucified. Depicted unfairly. I’ve even suspected that a few “friends” have ripped off some of my writing almost verbatim (why they would want to is a mystery).
See a former blog post here that touches on that more deeply:
rbobrien.weebly.com/blog-posts/lying-cheating-deceitoh-my
And a friend I recently made told me to tread carefully, to always wear a mask, to be sure to never, for one second, let that mask drop. That RB is a character. Just like the characters in my fiction. She is? I asked. Yes, he said. She is.
But she isn’t. And maybe that’s where I get into trouble. Everything I feel, think, do, write, believe, share. It’s all versions of me. So what that it’s presented under the name RB?
My real name is not RB. But my hopes, my dreams, my love for romance and the erotic and Shakespeare and EE Cummings and Hemingway and Plath and Nin is me. My sense of loyalty to friends and commitment to supporting them is me. My love for dance and music and family is me. My penchant to question and fear the unknown and to ask too many questions and suffer from grave insecurities is me. My sexual appetite is me. And my ability to smile and love is, indeed, me. Regardless what name I am. I. Am. Me. For better. Or for worse.
And right now, the need to absorb happiness is me. I want to bask in this small, ephemeral moment of this feeling of pride. For that too is me, just as surely as I also know that tomorrow the clouds may very well roll back in to steal this moment away as if it never existed at all. For I am a writer, a soul tortured by that inner voice that never sleeps. And that, too, is me. [image error]
October 3, 2016
There's Just Something About a Voice...Call Me American.
What is it that makes a woman go all gooey when she hears certain voices? Is there just something aesthetically inexplicable in certain timbres? In cadence? Is there something scientific that happens? When we think about the old adage--Beauty is in the eye of the beholder--does the same apply to voices? Does what sounds sexy to one, grate on the other? 
I, myself, am not sure about my own voice. I'm from Massachusetts. I have a gravelly voice that I find anything but mellifluous, the word monotone is not in my vocabulary, and I was kicked out of the radio program in college because I couldn't keep the needle in the middle of the Richter scale. Some say they find my voice sexy. I wonder about that! But studies have shown that males with deep voices are the most coveted. Erotic writer translation: Deep voices melt the panties right off of heterosexual women. Just look at one of the most sought-after narrators like Morgan Freeman, who admits: "The lower your voice is, the better you sound.”
Throw in a British accent for we American women and all bets are off. Suddenly, even the reading of a grocery list can make one weak in the knees. Eyes roll into the back of our heads, our legs cross and uncross trying to become comfortable against the little pulse that suddenly starts to beat in that one place, our faces flush with a heat that consumes us, and coherent, intelligent chit-chat? Wait? What were we talking about? Exactly.
Like any of our senses, the more we engage each one, the more aroused we become, women especially. We are sensory people. Give me a British accent, a spicy, masculine scent, the right touch in all the right places, a taste of sweet torture on my lips, and thoughtful, mysterious eyes, and I'm a goner. To illustrate the point, I recently had a small teaser read of Thorne: Rose's Dark Contract. I dare you to stay still while listening to it. And you just wait! He has done a full 10 minute scene of my next book, Thorne: Rose's Dark Awakening. My advice? Do not, I repeat, DO NOT listen to it on the way to work. You just may turn around and call out sick. ;)
I, myself, am not sure about my own voice. I'm from Massachusetts. I have a gravelly voice that I find anything but mellifluous, the word monotone is not in my vocabulary, and I was kicked out of the radio program in college because I couldn't keep the needle in the middle of the Richter scale. Some say they find my voice sexy. I wonder about that! But studies have shown that males with deep voices are the most coveted. Erotic writer translation: Deep voices melt the panties right off of heterosexual women. Just look at one of the most sought-after narrators like Morgan Freeman, who admits: "The lower your voice is, the better you sound.”Throw in a British accent for we American women and all bets are off. Suddenly, even the reading of a grocery list can make one weak in the knees. Eyes roll into the back of our heads, our legs cross and uncross trying to become comfortable against the little pulse that suddenly starts to beat in that one place, our faces flush with a heat that consumes us, and coherent, intelligent chit-chat? Wait? What were we talking about? Exactly.
Like any of our senses, the more we engage each one, the more aroused we become, women especially. We are sensory people. Give me a British accent, a spicy, masculine scent, the right touch in all the right places, a taste of sweet torture on my lips, and thoughtful, mysterious eyes, and I'm a goner. To illustrate the point, I recently had a small teaser read of Thorne: Rose's Dark Contract. I dare you to stay still while listening to it. And you just wait! He has done a full 10 minute scene of my next book, Thorne: Rose's Dark Awakening. My advice? Do not, I repeat, DO NOT listen to it on the way to work. You just may turn around and call out sick. ;)September 22, 2016
THORNE: Rose's Dark Contract is FREE for a Limited Time
BUY LINK
www.amazon.com/THORNE-Roses-Contract-R-B-OBrien-ebook/dp/B01BX7P9DQ
What a journey! First, I want to thank those of you who downloaded Thorne or who have already bought it. Further, A BIG THANK YOU to those who take the time to write reviews. Reviews are everything to us, critiques and all!
But more than that. I discovered something through this process. Something quite profound really. It's a struggle as an author to get noticed, to get read, and to earn reviews. Some days I just want to throw in the towel. It's hard work to keep up with writing, social media, support of other authors, and a myriad of other things, while maintaining a full-time job and a real life outside of the virtual reality. Some days it just doesn't seem worth the effort.
When Thorne was made free and I saw hundreds of downloads a day, it made me so happy. It made me happy to know that my work would be read, that someone else might enjoy the dark romantic story I had created all those months ago, that I would get to share a part of my soul with people.
What I've realized this week is that my happiness from writing isn't about money. It isn't about "making it." I thought it was. I refused to give away my work, to make it free, for my hard work not to be appreciated as an artist, as a job, as my livelihood, to not be taken seriously as a writer, even if erotica my genre. My happiness comes from being read. Plain and simple. Sharing my writing. Getting feedback. Knowing that my work resonates with some of you. That we have all walked dark paths. Found love. Lost it. And feel alive each and every day in our romantic endeavors. That we connect emotionally as human beings.
If my writing has touched you (no pun intended--okay, maybe a little), then THAT, that is what brings a smile to my face, that is what makes my eyes sparkle with success, that warms me inside in a way I didn't know possible. Sure. I'd love to make more money at this, more than the pocket-change, rainy-day fund money I've been making. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want as many people buying my work as I've had when I give it away. Of course I do. But the truth of the matter is: I love writing. I love exorcising my demons this way. I love learning about who I really am. What drives me. I love being creative. So I will not stop writing...and I have all of you to thank for that. I humbly thank you. Looks like you're stuck with me...at least for the time being. xo
www.amazon.com/THORNE-Roses-Contract-R-B-OBrien-ebook/dp/B01BX7P9DQ
What a journey! First, I want to thank those of you who downloaded Thorne or who have already bought it. Further, A BIG THANK YOU to those who take the time to write reviews. Reviews are everything to us, critiques and all!But more than that. I discovered something through this process. Something quite profound really. It's a struggle as an author to get noticed, to get read, and to earn reviews. Some days I just want to throw in the towel. It's hard work to keep up with writing, social media, support of other authors, and a myriad of other things, while maintaining a full-time job and a real life outside of the virtual reality. Some days it just doesn't seem worth the effort.
When Thorne was made free and I saw hundreds of downloads a day, it made me so happy. It made me happy to know that my work would be read, that someone else might enjoy the dark romantic story I had created all those months ago, that I would get to share a part of my soul with people.
What I've realized this week is that my happiness from writing isn't about money. It isn't about "making it." I thought it was. I refused to give away my work, to make it free, for my hard work not to be appreciated as an artist, as a job, as my livelihood, to not be taken seriously as a writer, even if erotica my genre. My happiness comes from being read. Plain and simple. Sharing my writing. Getting feedback. Knowing that my work resonates with some of you. That we have all walked dark paths. Found love. Lost it. And feel alive each and every day in our romantic endeavors. That we connect emotionally as human beings.
If my writing has touched you (no pun intended--okay, maybe a little), then THAT, that is what brings a smile to my face, that is what makes my eyes sparkle with success, that warms me inside in a way I didn't know possible. Sure. I'd love to make more money at this, more than the pocket-change, rainy-day fund money I've been making. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want as many people buying my work as I've had when I give it away. Of course I do. But the truth of the matter is: I love writing. I love exorcising my demons this way. I love learning about who I really am. What drives me. I love being creative. So I will not stop writing...and I have all of you to thank for that. I humbly thank you. Looks like you're stuck with me...at least for the time being. xo
September 4, 2016
Why Publish?
I made my first newsletter yesterday, something so small that took me so much time. I’m on such a learning curve when it comes to this stuff. But I did it, and I am quite proud of myself for getting it done. It’s nothing special. I don’t have but a little more than 100 people to send it to, but it’s another part of me and who I am that I share with the loyal friends and fans that I do have. If you'd still like to sign up, simply go to my home page here. It's a very quick sign up. rbobrien.weebly.com/Some days, it’s just really easy to throw in the towel. To give up. To say—why am I doing all this? Why spend so much time writing and publishing? Sales fluctuate up and down. People rarely review. I’m not sure what works and what doesn’t regarding promotion and sales. The answer is simple, and I’ve said this before. I write because I am a writer. I write what is a secret part of me. I write what I can’t share in my real life. I write because I think I would implode if I didn’t.
Yes. I write fiction for the most part. But with each tale I spin, there is a part of my real essence, a dark part of who I really am that manifests itself within the ink. It’s a safe place to express dark desires, kinks, and fantasies. It’s the haunted house you don’t really want to stay in but explore. It’s the movie you pray isn’t real and wish it were in the same breath, the living of it from a safe confine.
With each story, I learn more about myself. And some of my stories have been censored, by me, by a publisher, by an innate fear of judgement. I wish I’d stop that. But I guess, I’m only willing to go so far, reveal just so much. I guess I’m not fully ready to admit who I really am…but I’m not ready to give up and stop the journey. So for now, I call myself a writer, because quite frankly, I have no choice. I am who I am, just different versions of myself.
August 15, 2016
The Natalie Edge series began in a diary...
After months of hoping and waiting for my first series to go to print, The Natalie Edge Series, I finally received the galley print to review. I am ecstatic. All three books will be in one large, printed compilation…so for all those reading on the beach, now is your chance! Imagine that? Him? Being caught with my book in his hands? Oh the thought makes me squish inside!
(Damn it! That should say Natalie's Edge. Maybe next year!)
What you may not know is that Natalie came from scribbles in my diary. An old-fashioned, pen and paper, no one better get their hands on this diary. What do I mean by that? Well—I felt a deep void inside of me. I knew there was something missing in me, even if outwardly I seemed to have it all. And so, I tried to get back to self-discovery by writing.I had always kept a journal/diary, since about age 13—quite religiously. The problem? I wrote for myself. I didn’t ever want it to see the light of day. Each week, I would destroy what I wrote. And I mean that quite literally. Destroyed it just in case my parents found it. And when I began teaching, I wrote with my students daily in class and destroyed that as well. We all did. And it was invigorating. I remember students looking at me with a crazed look in their eyes—“Is she fucking for real? All this work we’ve done this semester and she wants us to destroy it if we choose? She’s nuts.” Yup. I am.
That first time my students starting tearing apart their journals with glee, it was a giddy, cult-like experience. It caught on. There was this nervous energy, not said, but shown in our actions. And after it was done, they realized. She means it. She wants us to pour our souls onto this very paper. She means it. Writing is cathartic. She means it. Write. For. No one. But. Yourself. And they were right. I meant it. Authentic writing can only come from truth. From true writing without censorship. Publishing is another ballgame. (Funny I make a sport analogy when I hate sports.) But I do censor myself often when I write for publication. I am actually thinking of a new pen name, one without censorship, one without social media attached, one where I can just write freely without any worries about sales or who likes it and who doesn’t. I may have already started. ;)
So for those of you who consistently ask about my inspiration, what is real/what isn't (and I welcome the questions even though I am extremely private for myriad reasons), I will answer the most common ones here for you about Natalie that I get. It's about time for you to see a little of my diary...Yes. The places and people of Natalie are based on my real life to an extent. I never danced professionally. I like to think it is because I am too short. I am petite as well and don’t have the typical dancer’s body. But it never stopped me, and I still dance every week to this day for fun and exercise and yes, I have been in productions, but I mostly work more in the community theatres to help with directing and choreographing. I have been known to do a bit with Shakespeare – ahem-- and to be roped into filling in.No. I have never owned my own business.Yes. I have lived in and around Boston my whole life.Yes. I have been to Paris.Yes. Giselle was the first ballet I ever saw and yes, Nutcracker was a family tradition.Yes. Redemption is loosely based on real-life events. The first two are fictional based on the emotional rollercoaster of previous relationships.Yes. Bette Davis is my idol. She was born in Lowell, MA.Yes. I was raised Catholic and deathly afraid of horror movies and still am.Yes I have both submissive and emotional masochistic traits.Yes. I love the dominant male.
Okay. Phew. THAT was cleansing—as if I just got out of the confessional box itself! If you want to know more, ask! I may or may not answer. You’ll have to get your hands on my diary. But sadly, that, my friends, is buried deep into the confines of an endless landfill, somewhere in Massachusetts.
AMAZON LINK TO NATALIE'S EDGE. ALSO SOLD AT EXTASY, BARNES & NOBLE, KOBO, and SMASHWORDS.www.amazon.com/Temptation-Natalies-Edge-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00TE9XJSI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
July 16, 2016
WRITING IS DISCOVERY--LILAH E. NOIR INTERVIEWS ME
Last week, I "sat down" with Lilah E. Noir to answer some pretty intense questions regarding my sequel in the Thorne series, Thorne: Rose's Dark Secret. And I found myself realizing that even if my stories or novels are fiction, there is always truth about myself in them.Writing is always a discovery with me, a discovery of self, a discovery of my needs, and a discovery of why I continue to write, even when success is daunting and fleeting. Today I thought I'd share a couple highlights of the interview.
If you'd like to read the interview in its entirety, I invite to visit Ms. Noir's gorgeous website here: lilahenoir.wordpress.com/2016/07/14/author-spotlight-r-b-obrien/
Lilah, herself, is not only a beautiful writer, but she is a graphic artist. This cover, as well as the first Thorne cover, is an example of her talented artwork. Lilah: Ms. O’Brien is back with more exquisite pain, angst and pleasure for her two leading characters, William and Rose. Hello, R.B., and thank you for sparing some of your busy time. What was it like to go back to the dark world of Thorne for the sequel?
R.B.: It was great but intense to try to go back into a character’s mind, a mind that is filled with self-loathing and a mind that is male. It is fun to try to psychoanalyze why a character acts and feels the way he/she does, and doing it as a different gender lends itself to many challenges. My desire to delve into the male psyche comes from many years of being drawn to men that seem to have a darker side. But there is also light in them, and it is that duality and intensity that makes me feel alive. Thorne is very much that man as is my first male protagonist, Michael, from the Natalie’s Edge series. Each man, while plagued with a dark past and demons, has this glorious light within them, fighting noble causes. I picture them as true anti-heroes, like the likes of Batman, the Dark Knight.
Lilah: Some defined Thorne’s first installment and your leading male as “too dark” and to others it wasn’t “dark enough”. What is your position on the level of “darkness” in contemporary romance and erotica?
R.B.: I enjoy darker. I like darker in the sense of emotional turmoil. Everything I write is based off of emotional tug of war, the mental psychology of sex and sexual tension. But I don’t enjoy complete darkness or anything that crosses lines for me personally. I don’t write about harsh punishments or intense physical BDSM. It’s not my thing. At. All. If it does not titillate me, and I want my erotica to not only titillate my readers but to titillate me, why would I do it? I am much more interested in psychological and mental and emotional punishments. I could go on for hours on this topic. But in a nutshell: Why write something that doesn’t personally turn me on?
I like flawed characters. I like depth of character. I like to see redemption and dynamic characterization when all is said and done. And there will always be an element of consent for me. Always. And romance. Always. Love. Always. And some semblance of happy ending. Always. So those who said not dark enough? They want me to take them places that I do not want to and will not go.
For those who said that the male protagonist is too dark or that Thorne (or even Michael from Natalie’s Edge) is borderline abusive, what can I say to that? They are flawed, round characters, based off real-life relationships and people. They are not made to be fantastical, perfect men or stock characters. How boring to me! And for some, including myself, these types of stories are turn-ons. Watching a strong-willed, alpha man come to terms with his past and his flaws as he discovers love is the story I love to tell but also the story I love to read.
And for those who do not understand the psyche of a slight emotional masochist, there is really not much I can do about that. But for those who do understand it, who can identify with that need, that desire, that ache? They get it. That is my audience. And the too dark/not dark enough becomes just right. I got into an argument with someone about one of my stories once and how its depiction is “abuse” and not “BDSM-worthy” as a category. I can’t stand when someone tells me what should or should not turn me on sexually. If both parties understand it, consent exists, and that is all that matters. Truth be told? I was struggling to find erotic works that spoke to my personal fetishes. So guess what? I decided to write them myself.I wrote a blog post here about just how to categorize my books!http://rbobrien.weebly.com/blog-posts/just-how-the-fk-do-i-categorize-my-writing.
To see my entire interview, visit the link to Lilah's site lilahenoir.wordpress.com/2016/07/14/author-spotlight-r-b-obrien. In the meantime, enjoy my books, all 99 cents for a limited time. I'd love to hear your opinion. Are my characters too dark? Not dark enough? As for me, I'll keep writing and discovering, one page at a time.
July 3, 2016
In Memory of Elie Wiesel
It’s what I like to call Shakespeare Sunday today, where I often share something Shakespearean with my friends. Today I dedicate my blog to Elie Wiesel who has just passed.As I sat on the beach yesterday, trying to breathe again and find balance in my life among the hectic nonsense of life, especially the life in the virtual spectrum with drama and nonsense and worries about book sales and loyalty and lies and truth and a myriad of other things, I sulked. Was I feeling sorry for myself? Maybe. I don’t know. But there are just days I feel fed up. Tired. Tired of the nonsense. Tired of the competition. Tired of the jealousy. Tired of misunderstandings. Tired of expectation. I had my whole Shakespeare post ready about Expectations for today—you know the quote I’m sure. "Expectation is…"
And then, I see the Globe, my Sunday ritual, a dying ritual I realize, to pick up an old-fashioned newspaper, ink barely dry, staining my fingers in that beautiful hue of grey that is messy and decadent at the same time. I lick to get to the Food section and the Arts and Entertainment section, my greedy little fingers wrapped around both the awkward pages of the dying art and my coffee mug as I curl into what I deem relaxation.
And there it is. Elie Wiesel, one of the greatest writers, thinkers, narrators, and most importantly, historians of our time. And my heart saddens. I mean sick with heavy sadness. I realize that there is about to be no one left who will be a primary source to this horrific tale in history. Amidst the political climate in our country and abroad right now, I feel the lump in my throat as I stifle down the sad truth that I see similarities in scapegoating and fear going on around me in global scales but also in my world, an almost microcosm of the bigger picture. Pointing fingers. Blame. Half-truths.
As a teenager, I was profoundly affected by Wiesel’s narrative, Night, as I’m sure many of you were and are. When running my first 5K, it was his tale that stuck in my mind. Silly, I know. Big deal. 5K. Ha. But for me it was a huge feat. I said in my mind thinking of Wiesel’s story of unbelievable odds—40 miles, no food, freezing weather, barefoot in the snow—surely, I can run a mere 5K. It’s about determination. How bad do I want it? This is fucking nothing!
I remember the music of the violin the most, that little boy playing his heart out only for Elie to awaken the next morning to death and the crushed violin, destroyed, symbolic. It is still one of the most powerful scenes I ever read that speaks so much without ever speaking it at all but instead, showing it. And yet—this quote—by Wiesel shows us that adversity can be overcome, that you can survive, that you can still go on to find some semblance of happiness, that you can, indeed, live a life that is gratifying.
So yes. I realize everything is relative. But damn it. I have it pretty darn good. Life will never be perfect. Elie Wiesel survived the Holocaust. He went on to do great things. I was fortunate enough to visit one of his lectures here in Boston. We all face levels of adversity. And as Shakespeare wrote: Sweet are the uses of adversity/Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,/Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.” If someone like Wiesel can overcome and use his adversity as a “jewel in his head,” I think every single one of us can. We are “mere mortals”—it’s true, but words, Shakespeare’s, Wiesel’s—they are immortal. And because of those words, we will never forget.
June 23, 2016
Life's about LESSONS
I don’t believe in a god, not in the traditional sense anyway. I guess that’s what being raised Catholic has done to me. But I do believe in energy. I do believe in right and wrong. I do believe in kindness and truth. And not everyone else is like that. I’m learning that. I’m learning that there are some really ugly people in this world and I’m not talking about their outsides. I’m talking about their souls, their essence, the people they are.
I am not perfect. Far from it. And I have accomplished a fair share of mistakes in my short time on this Earth already. But I have never gone out of my way to hurt a person deliberately. I know that there are two sides to every story. I’m not stupid. I’m a good listener. I care about the feelings of others—sometimes too much and that is what gets me into trouble, caring for the wrong people sometimes. But I don’t have a malicious bone in my body. Some people may call that weak. True or not, it is simply the person I am. And if others choose to view me as weaker, there is really not much I can do about that.
I’m fortunate, though, that for every rotten person who chooses to jump to conclusions or who chooses not to ask questions and listen to the answers, there are a dozen who do—people who care. People who listen. People who can see the truth in the cracks of others’ lies. People I am fortunate enough to call friends.
Life is never going to be easy, and the life of a writer comes with all kinds of its unique issues. The more public I become, the more I open myself up to slander and lies. Some days it's very easy to give up. But it also opens those doors to friendships and a wealth of goodness too, people who are wonderful and forgiving and kind and supportive. People who are not motivated by jealousy or greed, but by love. The Beatles once said: “All You Need is Love.” I believe in that simple phrase. The simpler, the better. Perhaps “you may say I’m dreamer, but I’m not the only one.” Being kind and forgiving and supportive and sensitive isn’t weak at all. In fact, it takes courage and strength not to succumb to hatred. It’s much easier to choose that path. Instead, I’ll choose love and that is my strength.
June 12, 2016
WAXING PHILOSOPHICAL TODAY
I never really get or understand the need for prologues or epilogues in narrative. I often skip them. I’m not sure why exactly. But perhaps it does stem from Shakespeare’s quote: What’s past is prologue. Perhaps that is precisely it. It isn’t just about narrative but life and how I want to experience it.I’m not saying that the past isn’t important. Of course it is. The past is what makes up the present. It’s all of our experiences bundled into this one, bigger moment called life. What makes me laugh, cry, trust, distrust. Why I like a particular food or smell or song. Nostalgia I suppose. But it is faint and fleeting as I try to grasp what it is that makes me feel in that moment. It’s still, even then, about the moment of now. It always makes me think of E.E. Cummings and "for life's not a paragraph/And death i think is no parenthesis."
The smell of freshly cut grass that may take me back to watching my dad mow the lawn while I read by the pool as a child may remind me of him. I may cry or laugh thinking of him. But it is that moment, again, the present moment, that I am living, feeling, breathing, experiencing. I can never go back and say, “Stop. I want this moment forever. Freeze it. This feeling of happiness. Pause. Don’t move. This is it.” I feel it only because I live it. In the present. Being mindful of that is important, even with polar opposite feelings. For as I remember those moments I sat in awe of my dad, I sit here now with a smile and a tear at once. I love that I have the memory and I cry that it is gone, like so many people I’ve lost in my life. But the memory itself, only happens in the present.
So I guess with narrative I want to feel the story too, as it’s happening. Right then. I want to live the story with the characters. The narrative itself, for me, should tell the stories of the past within the framework. To me a prologue and epilogue try to tell me how I SHOULD feel or think rather than let me, the reader, decide. Let me ponder it, figure it out as I’m reading. Let the words and actions and settings of the characters help me to deduce why a character has become the way he or she is. Let me decide what the future may hold for them based on what I’ve read of their story.
Let me keep a sliver of my imagination intact. After all, isn't that why we read?
"By the time I recognize this moment, this moment will be gone."--John Mayer
