Morgan Elektra's Blog, page 4

Low Down

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This is another one of those posts that probably needs a warning. I don’t know for what because I’m not sure what’s going to come out of my head just yet. But, much like my blog about PCOS, it’s going to be very personal. So… brace yourself for that, I guess.

Recently, I was diagnosed with depression.

It’s not easy for me to talk about. I’ve been struggling with this blog entry for a couple of weeks now and I’ve reconsidered it more than once. For most of my life, I’ve kept my issues to myself. I felt like there’s was nothing anyone could do to change things, so why bother them with it?

Even more than my feelings about having PCOS, the things that go on in my head where things I couldn’t find words for. Oddly, maybe, given my profession as a writer. Or maybe not. I’m much more comfortable in made up worlds than the real one.

My life hasn’t been terrible. Far from it, I think. Not that bad things haven’t happened to me, but that’s a fact of any life. Overall, I would say my life is pretty good. I have a wonderful family and good friends. I’ve always been reasonably healthy. (Though the PCOS & fertility issues have been a cross to bear, for sure. And there is some research that shows a link between PCOS & depression.) I’ve never not had a place to live or food to eat.

But I have always struggled with… well, at best I can describe it as feelings of utter hopelessness. Intellectually, I might know life is worthwhile and rewarding, but emotionally I’ve often felt like there’s no point to anything. Everything feels like too much and no end in sight and it’s very tiring. Why bother going out or trying to do anything? Going to school, or parties, or learning a skill. Tomorrow was going to be just as bleak and life was still going to suck. Even writing, which I love, often seemed like a futile pursuit.

It’s part of the reason I spent so much of my life with my nose in a book. Fictional worlds are an escape. I felt more comfortable with make believe people than real ones.

More than once, I’ve contemplated suicide. Not often. Most of the time, I just accept that this is the way the world is. I don’t like to talk about it. The suicide thoughts. I feel like it will make people feel bad. It’s not anyone’s fault, and I feel like if I tell people about it, they feel like they have to comfort me or something. And that just makes me feel worse.

And there are good things. A book. A funny conversation. Chocolate. But a few times, things have felt so bad that I just wanted it all to end and thought that would be the only way.

I want to make it clear I don’t feel that way now. Especially after losing one of my oldest friends to suicide in 2000. I know how horrible it felt to be left behind and wonder what I could have done differently to change it. To miss someone so bad it still hurts 17 years later. I can’t imagine ever doing that to my friends and family.

But the feeling was there.

The last few years, those feelings of hopelessness, of being overwhelmed and life being pointless, have gotten worse. Sometimes I couldn’t function, wouldn’t get out of bed for days. Didn’t shower or brush my teeth. I saw no point in anything at all. I felt very detached from life. I knew it was bad, but I just didn’t care.

Not that I was miserable all the time, but even when good things happened–like getting a story published–I couldn’t feel them properly. I hated feeling that way.

After talking about it with some very good friends recently, I decided it was time to do something about it. Or at least TRY to do something about it. So I made a few calls and got an appointment with a local mental health facility.

Mental illness isn’t something people talk about, how to deal with it, what it feels like. I didn’t even know how to go about expressing what goes on inside my head. It felt stupid. Like I was making a big deal out of nothing. Just the thought of telling someone the things I was feeling made me feel incredibly anxious. During the new patient interview, I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I teared up randomly. I shredded tissues. I thought I might throw up.

Both the nurse practitioner and the counselor I spoke to were incredibly helpful and calm. I was prescribed an antidepressant and they recommended I also have counseling. I started the Wellbutrin a week and a half ago. 150 mgs for a week, and I am now up to 300 mgs a day. I haven’t had many side effects so far, bar some hot flashes and a bit of what I call ‘hamstering’– when your brain spins like a hamster on a wheel and you can’t really focus.

Next week I’m supposed to start meeting with counselor.

I don’t know if it’s going to make me feel any better. So far, I feel exactly the same. (Although the doctors and such assured me it takes awhile for the drug to kick in and I’m not expecting… well, much of anything, actually. They’ve assured me that, too, is part of my depression.)

I’m not entirely sure why I’m even writing this blog, honestly.

Maybe just to put it out there. To say it out loud. Lance it, like the festering thing it’s been for the last 20 years. Maybe, like the medication and the counseling, it at least feels like doing something.

I still don’t know if I think it will actually change anything. I’m afraid to hope. But it’s something, I guess.

What, I’m not sure yet.

Sometimes I feel so broken it seems impossible to fix. But right now, it feels worth a try.

Flashing

A lot has been going on this month. I’ll get into more detail on that in another post though.

Over on my Patreon page, I’m conducting a Patron Drive. I’m only $9/month away from meeting my first goal of $100/month! All patrons get to read monthly flash fiction stories, among other rewards. And anyone who pledges this month also gets entered into a giveaway for a $25 Amazon gift card.

Check out the latest bit of flash (it’s a steamy piece, since ‘Lust’ won last month’s poll for theme) and maybe think about pledging, if you’re so inclined.

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June Flash Fiction – Heat

Cover Reveal, Excerpt + More!

When MLR published A Single Heartbeat in December, I had no plans to write anything else in that world. I thought it was just a one-off. But then Ben & Andras started whispering to me.

If you’ve been following this blog, then you’ve been with me through most of this journey… from the first spark of the idea through beta-ing and acceptance. Now, you get to see it all come to fruition.

I’m really excited to share this cover with you. It took quite a bit of back and forth between me and cover designer Melody Pond (who was lovely and sweet even when I wasn’t great at expressing what I was looking for), but it was totally worth it in the end. At least, I think so. What do you think?

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Isn’t it sexy? *sigh*

I’ve mentioned before how much blurbing is a pain in the ass, but I’m also pretty happy with what I’ve come up with for that as well.

Sparked in the shadows, their passion burns brighter than any fire in Hell.

Formed at the dawn of civilization and risen through the ranks of demonkind to command legions, Andras has never cared for anything so much as his duty to humanity and the Creator.



There is nothing on Earth that could hold a candle to his sense of purpose.

Ben travels the world alone, intent on destroying rogue vampires, feral werewolves, and corrupt witches. For him, hunting is more than a job, it’s his life’s calling.

But there is more in Heaven and Earth than he ever imagined, and the revelation sets his shadowed world ablaze.

From the moment their eyes meet, the desire in Andras’ blood gives him a new mission: possess the rugged hunter. Will Ben resist the primal pull between them, or will he let the fire of the demon lord’s lust consume him?

A Kiss of Brimstone will go on sale June 9th, 2017 from MLR Press! In celebration of having an official cover & release date, I thought I would post a little excerpt here as well. For anyone who has read A Single Heartbeat, you might recognize a few people.

(No worries if you haven’t though, A Kiss of Brimstone can be read on its own. It’s just more fun if you’ve read both.)

Excerpt:

Perhaps when they were done here, he’d go out onto the dancefloor and see if he could find himself someone to work off a little tension with. If he was lucky, maybe there was a horny lumberjack in the crowd below who’d be interested in manhandling him.

Unbidden, an image of the bronzed curves of the creature’s biceps and the ripples of his abdomen rose in Ben’s mind. He would have no trouble tossing Ben’s 6’2”, 187 pound body around. Pinning him down.

If he leaned over Ben, his long, wavy hair would fall forward, framing his square chin and tickling Ben’s face. Ben remembered the smoke and incense scent that had filled the alley when he landed, unlike anything he’d ever smelled before, the look in his amber eyes when he’d said Ben could stay, and the quirk of his plush, pink lips.

Blood pounded in his ears as he wondered what they would feel like against his, imagined that strange, snake-like tongue in his mouth. What would it feel like? And those big, blunt lower fangs…?

Ben shuddered and gulped some of the cool liquid in his glass, coughing when bubbles tickled the back of this throat. He turned his attention back to the pair opposite him, unsurprised to find them completely caught up in each other.

Reese and Will parted as soon as his gaze lit on them, both of them flushed and with kiss-swollen lips.

Part of Ben wanted to encourage them not to stop on his account. Though neither was really his type, they were both gorgeous, and he had no doubt they’d be hot together. But, he reminded himself yet again, he was here on business. He reached beneath the table and adjusted his erection into a more comfortable position.

Ben tapped his passcode into his phone and slid it across the table to Reese, hoping neither man noticed the slight tremble to his fingers.

“Those are the locations of the galleries Will suggested. Can you add anything?”

Reese’s thumb idly stroked Will’s knuckles while he read over Ben’s notes. The movement drew Ben’s attention to the split, barely healed skin. Will noticed his glance and shrugged.

“Hazard of the job, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed.

He’d had more busted knuckles and broken fingers than he could count. Ramming a wooden stake into a vamp’s chest hard enough to completely pierce the heart took a lot of force. And they didn’t just stand still and let you do it, either.

Will spun his almost empty beer bottle on the table. “Just got back from Atlantic City. A baby bloodsucker was picking off drunks along the boardwalk. Sloppy too. Took me all of a day to track him to an abandoned arcade. The police were probably twelve hours behind me.”

Ben whistled. Human law enforcement getting involved was always bad news.

“I had a job in New Orleans last year, during Mardi Gras. The vamp was feeding in the middle of the street. Plain view of anyone just walking by.” He shook his head.

Will’s pale brows rose. “Shit! That was you? I heard about that.”

“I was lucky. You can get away with just about anything during Mardi Gras. Especially if you’re in costume.” He waggled his eyebrows, earning a hearty laugh from the other hunter.

Will held up his beer bottle. “Never a dull moment in this life, eh?”

Ben clinked his glass against the bottle, trying very hard not to think about the man—demon—from the alley.

“Truth.”

They shared a smile as they sipped their drinks. Though his night had started off oddly, Ben felt a thread of happiness swirl through him. He liked Will. He seemed easy to be around, smart, knew when to talk and when to keep his mouth shut. And he had a sense of humor. Ben sensed the other hunter would make a good friend.

Maybe he would keep in touch when he left the city. Swing by for a drink next time he was passing through, even if there wasn’t a job involved.

Reese slid Ben’s phone back across the table. “I added one other place I thought might be worth checking out, from what I know of Pierre, but Will’s list is surprisingly comprehensive.”

He picked up the phone, reading over the augmented list, and tipped a nod at Reese. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” Will shoved lightly at Reese’s shoulder. “I think I take issue with the ‘surprisingly’ bit, vampire.”

“Oh?” Reese pulled Will into his arms, his eyes glinting in the low light of the club. “You still know where to find me, hunter.”

Will leaned in and sucked Reese’s lower lip into his mouth.

Ben considered leaving the two men alone. Will said he’d just gotten back from a job. And, technically, his business with the other hunter was concluded. But he felt incredibly comfortable with Will, and Reese too. Even their obvious desire for each other didn’t bother him.

It intrigued him, honestly.

Though he’d known he was gay since before he went through puberty, he hadn’t exactly spent much time around many same sex couples in the years since. He knew more than a few hunters who identified somewhere other than straight on the sexuality spectrum, but like him, they were single.

He’d heard of some retired hunters who had married. And he knew of one lesbian couple in Denmark who, like his parents, both came from a family of hunters. But that was it. A hunter’s life wasn’t very conducive to marriage and family.

Watching Will and Reese together sparked something in his gut that warmed him.

Indigo arrived with a fresh tray of drinks balanced on her hand. Will didn’t wave her off this time, too busy sliding his tongue into Reese’s mouth. The blue-haired waitress gave Ben a little shrug. He nodded at the amorous pair.

“Are they always like this?”

She snickered. “Oh, man. Always.” She set a fresh glass in front of him. “You wouldn’t believe it now, but I worked here before Will showed up. Boss man used to be like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Only much sexier.”

Ben slid a glance at Reese, who had pulled his mouth free from Will’s to scowl at Indigo.

“And what is that supposed to mean, young lady?”

“What? It’s true. You were always up in your tower, brooding. You never came down to the club unless Sebastián dragged you.” She grinned. “And then this one showed up…”

She nodded at Will, who was ignoring their conversation to kiss down the side of Reese’s neck. One of his hands had disappeared beneath Reese’s suit coat. The vampire managed to look haughty and elegant still, despite the flush to his cheeks and the fact that Will’s impatient fingers had mussed his hair.

“Thank you for your input, Indigo. You can go now.”

Indigo winked and sauntered away.

“We sure do like having you around, Will,” she tossed back over her shoulder.

Will chuckled against Reese’s throat. Ben watched the vampire’s pulse jump and imagined the hard thump of his heart. Yet another surprise. He knew from his research that Reese was a few centuries old.

In most cases, the older vamps’ hearts no longer beat.

It was Nicolette who had explained it to him.

“Once we reach a certain age, mon cher, it is purely the magic that animates us. And magic requires no heartbeat, no air, no blood flow. Once the heart ceases beating, we are truly no longer the mortals we once were, but other creatures entirely. Still, sometimes the body remembers what it is to be human.”

And the heart was the seat of the soul. It’s why staking a vamp killed them (but only with wood… no other man-made weapon could untether a vampire’s soul). It was also why things occasionally jump started a vampire’s silent heart. It happened when something powerful stirred their soul.

It was uncommon, she told him, in older vampires.

“We don’t feel things the way we used to, cher. We are… other.”

But Will obviously made Reese feel something profound, judging by the flutter of the pulse in his neck.

Again, Ben felt that sharp sting in his chest.

He must have made a face, or a noise, because Will released his hold on Reese and turned back to the table. Reese didn’t look at all disturbed by the fact that Will had undone the top few buttons of his shirt, or left a visible red mark on the pale skin of his collarbone. He leaned back against the booth, arms stretched to either side, with a faint, satisfied smile on his lips.

Will settled next to him, close but no longer practically in his lap, and lifted his fresh beer to his swollen mouth. His gaze narrowed on Ben.

The look was so intense it was as if Will was peering into his skull and could see the thoughts and feelings squirming around inside. As much as he was coming to like the irreverent hunter, he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. Ben took a long swallow of booze to wet his throat.

“I should probably get going.”

Will shook his head. His lips curved upward at the corners, and the next words out of his mouth proved that Ben’s instincts were right. Will was annoyingly observant.

“So, tell me about your demon.”

He said the words casually, but they still hit Ben like a roundhouse kick to the chest. He sucked in a breath, blood burning in his cheeks and throat.

“He’s— it’s not—”

But Reese’s clipped voice cut off his heated denial. All of the lazy contentment had faded from the vampire’s handsome face, replaced with lowered brows and sharp inspection. He leaned across the table, ebony irises glittering with fierce intent.

Ben looked into the eyes of the warrior whose human life had ended on a bloody battlefield in Spain two centuries ago.

“You’ve seen a Soul Reaver?” Reese’s question was almost a demand.

Will’s head whipped around, his attention now focused entirely on the vampire at his side. Ben’s was as well.

Soul Reaver.

Ben remembered the creature reaching into Mr. All-American’s chest, yanking out that oily, shimmering mass of tangled tentacles. Had that slimy, rotted, octopus-like thing been the man’s soul?

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as words got stuck in his throat. He nodded, forcing them past his suddenly numb lips.

“He’s…” His fingers clenched around his phone hard enough to make the plastic creak. “It was real?”

His ears rang so loudly he almost didn’t hear Reese’s reply.

“I’ve only heard stories from my Sire, who heard stories from hers, but…” Reese grinned, like a child who had just been promised a meeting with his idol. “Tell me everything!”

Like it? If you want to read more of my writing, you can always pledge to my Patreon. All Patrons get free flash fiction stories every month.

I’m currently having a Patron drive. All new Patrons in the month of June get a free copy of A Single Heartbeat and are entered into a giveaway to win a $25 Amazon Gift Certificate!

~xxxM

Supernaturally Good News

You might have noticed that my last post about short fiction was a bit all over the place. I had thoughts in my head and wasn’t able to corral them as well as I would have liked. That happens to me sometimes, whether it’s a blog post or a story. I hope it was at least halfway coherent.

Part of the reason I was thinking about short stories was because one of mine was recently accepted into an anthology!

Flame Tree Publishing is a UK company that puts out several anthologies every year in various genres. Each one is a mix of new and classic authors. The anthologies themselves are hardcover works of art.

[image error]Sexy, isn’t it?

I am incredibly pleased to be able to announce that my short story She’s Gone will be included in Flame Tree’s upcoming Supernatural Horror anthology alongside stories by the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, John Polidori (I’m ridiculously pleased about this one, especially), & H.G. Wells. Not to mention the other modern day writers I’m proud to be sharing space with!

Check out the blog post over at Flame Tree for a full list of authors included in both the Supernatural Horror anthology and the Lost Worlds anthology.

She’s Gone was an interesting piece for me.  I wrote it for a prompt in the writer’s group I mentioned last week, though I can’t remember what the exact prompt was now. But I do remember I was wracking my brain for an idea that month, and the image of a pretty young woman in a sundress sitting at the bar in a little dive, looking drunk, sad, and out of place, came to me. Sitting beside her was an old man in a rumpled suit who looked like death warmed over. Only he was smiling.

It was very vivid and reminded me a bit of that Hopper painting Nighthawks, but way more depressing.

[image error]Kind of like this. Only in a dive bar.

Once I had that image in my head, the rest of the story flowed from it. It went through a revision or two, of course, but the story didn’t change fundamentally from what that first image showed me.

Anyway, I was pretty happy with how it ended up, and I guess the folks over at Flame Tree were too!

There’s no official release date for the anthology yet, as far as I know. But it will be out sometime this year. I’ll keep you posted as more news comes in. Until then, check out their blog and maybe browse their catalog. They’ve got other anthologies out you might be interested in. And did I mention how gorgeous they are? Because seriously. Damn.

[image error]I mean, look at this beauty.

Anyway, that’s all. I’m going to go continue doing my little happy dance that a story I wrote is in an anthology with John Polidori!

~xxxM

Short & Sweet

Brevity is not one of my strengths.

I love words and I adore trying to convey to others exactly what strange things go on in my head. This can lead to me being really wordy. The term “over-descriptive” has been used to refer to my writing on more than one occasion. It’s not a charge I can argue with.

When I was working as a freelance ghostwriter of erotica, I often told my clients that I have a tendency to “write long and edit down”.

Some authors are the opposite. They do a bare bones sketch for their rough draft and then edit in the details. If that work for you, I’m not knocking it. It’s just not how I operate.

I pretty much write everything and the kitchen sink in my rough draft and then use each successive editing pass to hone the story into a sleek, sexy beast. Like a sculptor, hacking a statue out of a hunk of marble.

A few years ago, aware of my weakness in this area, I joined a Facebook writers group hoping to brush up my skills. We did monthly story prompts, shared our stories, and gave critique. I had no real plans for any of these stories. The experiment was merely meant to exercise some writing muscles, hit words counts, explore different genres.

(After I posted them in our group and got feedback, I just stuck them in file and forgot about them. These are the stories I have been pulling out, polishing, and submitting to anthologies and magazines.)

In my post about giving good feedback, I mentioned how helpful it can be to an author. Those two years in that writing group really helped me sharpen my writing skills. The proof of that, I think, is in the responses I’m getting from editors. Even my rejections are, more often than not, positive in tone and encouraging.

While I still think my preferred length is long form (I think I generally write between 20,000 and 60,000 words), I learned a lot through my attempts to stay below 5k. Even when I failed.

I read a post on social media today where the author opined that short and flash fiction was generally not as fleshed out or well done as longer form fiction. While I do agree that long form gives you more space to explore things in depth, short fiction can be a really powerful medium.

This is a bit of a ramble, I realize. Which is ironic, given the topic.

My point is, I think, that I behooves all authors to try their hand at various story lengths.

Some people think short fiction is dying a slow death as magazines become more and more scarce. But I really hope that’s not true. As a writer, I feel short fiction has so much to teach about word economy, character development, and story arc. And as a reader, I love a quick, effective little morsel.

I particularly love anthologies, where I can read a lot of different authors in one book.

Do you have favorite short fiction markets? Podcasts, ezines, anthologies? Mention them in the comments!

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday to Me!

This is going to be brief, because I am about to bake a cake.

[image error]Yes, I am making my own cake. I like to bake. It’s not made yet, so this is the picture that goes along with the recipe I use for chocolate cake. It’s super yummy! I’ll include the link below.

Before we moved back down to Georgia five years ago, I hadn’t baked at all. But the kitchen in our house here is very spacious, so I broke out the mixer I got at my bridal shower and began trying things out. I went through a couple of different cake recipes before finding the one I now use.

I love AllRecipes.com. I’ve found some really great stuff there.

If you like chocolate cake and want to try this very easy recipe, check it out here.

A few of the reviewers comment with tweaks that I ended up using and loving, namely upping the cocoa from 3/4 cup to a whole cup and using coffee instead of boiling water. The cake comes out dark, rich, and moist. And delicious. And, as another reviewer mentioned, I’ve found it tastes even better a day later.

I’m going to make strawberry mousse filling, and chocolate fudge buttercream icing. I’ll probably be posting pictures, if it comes out as pretty as I’m hoping.

This has nothing to do with writing, I know. But it’s creating of a different kind. And I find baking very fun and relaxing! When I want to destress, I love having the kitchen all to myself, putting on my Crazy Kitchen Mix station on Pandora, and making something delicious.

Plus, two members of the illustrious Beta Team Voltron are coming to visit!

There will be tea (in a fancy china tea set), cake, laughter, and shenanigans. I can’t wait.

Stay tuned. I’m sure I’ll be posting some pictures.

And if you feel like maybe getting me a birthday present, you could always check out my bookshelf and buy a book. Leave a review. Or pledge to my Patreon. Patrons get free monthly flash fiction and access to exclusives.

Just sayin’.

This Story is For You

I want to tell you a story.

It’s a story that starts with tattoos, but it’s not about them. Or, not *just* about tattoos.

Bear with me.

When I was 19, I got my first tattoo. I had recently lost an old, dear friend to suicide and I needed something to help me cope with his death. In hindsight, I didn’t do enough research into the studio I went to (one in a college town that catered to young people getting first tats… I was sat next to a girl getting a cartoon deer “with long eyelashes!” on her shoulder blade) and it’s reflected in the tattoo I got. It’s not *bad*. But it’s not great, either.

Still, even now, almost 20 years later, looking at it or touching it reminds me of my friend and it does make me feel better.

[image error]The blue star on my ankle was my first. The others have been added over the years.

That was my first experience with the power of tattoos, and I was hooked. Since then, I’ve gotten several other tats and, finances permitting, will be getting more.

I love all of my tattoos, even the ones that didn’t come out so great, because they are meaningful to me. There’s one on my right inner wrist. I got it when I was emotionally feeling pretty low about my writing. My hope was that it would remind me that, career or not, I was a writer.

[image error]Not the best lighting, but it’s hard for me to take a picture left handed!

Though I love it as it is, it was always intended to be part of a larger tattoo. The bigger design involves the inkwell on my other wrist, and a quote on my inner forearms. The quote is from a song by Coheed & Cambria called ‘Wake Up‘.

An entirely amazing song if you ask me. But my favorite part is the line: ‘This story is for you.’

It has always resonated with me. Like, deep in my soul.

When I told my darling husband about my plans for the tattoo, he said, “Who is ‘you‘?”

My response was automatic. I didn’t even think about it. But it came from somewhere inside me. That place where the lyric had struck me.

I said: Whoever’s reading it.

There’s been a lot of drama lately in the M/M community. Since I’m a newbie on the scene, I haven’t commented much. But I’ve been watching and listening. I can’t begin to speak to all of the issues that have come up. I’m a queer (bi/pan) woman (or something like that… the older I get, the more I question those labels, but that’s a whole other post) in a monogamous relationship with a heterosexual man.

I can pretty easily ‘pass’ as a straight, cis white lady. Even if I don’t feel or identify that way. That’s how others will most likely perceive me on sight.

(As long as I shave and dress “femininely” at least. Again, different post.)

But, during all the brouhaha, a question arose as to who the M/M genre belonged to. Or, rather, some people claimed that since the genre stems from the fanfiction community–which is largely the purview of women–that it is a woman’s space. A place for women writers to write the kind of things that turn them on, for other women who are turned on by the same things.

Regardless of the fact that the thing turning them on is people. Usually gay men.

Although sometimes bi men as well. But the impression being given was that men in general were only tolerated in the genre if they kept quiet. The space, the stories, might be *about* them, but they weren’t *for* them.

That bothered me. A lot.

Now, granted, the world is one that is geared toward men. Most media–books, tv, movies, etc–is made for them, with women as an afterthought. An also ran. That’s slowly changing, but it hasn’t yet.

Some gay/bi/pan benefit from that privilege. Ones that can ‘pass’, anyway. But if they can’t, or won’t, they are often just as subject to the bias as women are, albeit in different ways.

And I do believe that women deserve spaces where they can feel free and safe to be themselves.

But I don’t like the idea of side-lining or pooh-poohing another marginalized group to get it. That feels wrong. We can’t rise above our own bad treatment by treating others badly.

When I write, I’m trying to make something meaningful. I want that for all my work, even the stuff others might dismiss because it’s romance. Or horror. Or erotica.

I don’t just write for me. Or for people like me. I write for everyone.

Seriously, if I had my druthers, literally everyone would read and enjoy my work.

Not that I write to cater to everyone, or to please everyone. But I do like to write things that anyone and everyone could find *something* to like in. Of course, that’s not going to be to case. Different people like different things, and that’s okay.

But I write to that possibility. With that hope.

Isn’t that what every artist wants for their work?

Maybe this is all a crazy ramble that makes no sense to anyone but me. I don’t know. I feel like I didn’t really express my very complex feelings as clearly as I want to. But I also feel like this is very much how I feel.

Just… whoever you are out there, if you’re reading this… This story is for you. They all are.

❤ ~xxxM

 

 

 

 

Under My Skin: Character Development & Visual Inspiration

I don’t know how it is for other writers, but for me, most of my stories start with a character. Someone pops up in my head and starts telling me their story. During their narrative, other characters will occasionally jump in to add their POV. That’s how I get to know the people I write about.

Within the normal course of things, I tend to not develop a mental picture of the character until the time comes to write it down. Then, they step out of the shadows and let me glimpse them. But, usually, through the beginning stages of story development, the character is only a voice to me. I can hear their personality in it. The way they convey their POV often gives me insight into their thought process. But visually, things are all a bit vague.

It’s a bit like getting to know someone online.

You can spend hours and hours talking and know everything about them, but only have a fuzzy mental picture of what they look like. And then, when you see a photo or meet in person, their actual physical presence slots itself into the picture of them in your head.

That’s how my characters usually develop. From the inside out.

As an example, Grace, the MC from my short story Big Teeth: a dark fairytale, first came to me as a whisper in my ear.

“Everyone thinks they know my story,” she said. “They’re wrong.”

Her voice was angry, even though she spoke softly. It carried the weight of pain, and not a small amount of despair. I knew immediately that something terrible had happened to her, and that it had been covered up. Not only did the initial act break her heart, the lies compounded it. Made her bitter. While rage bubbled within her, it didn’t really show. She felt hopeless. As if there was nothing she could really do.

Except tell the truth.

It was only later, while in the midst of writing Big Teeth, that I learned that Grace has blonde hair, or hazel eyes. I could describe her to you in more detail, if pressed. But the most important facets of her person are her emotions.

[image error]I love this cover so much.

Most of the time, I’m content to leave my character descriptions a little blurry. It’s then up to the reader to bring them into focus in their mind.

But every once in awhile, a picture of a character comes to me first. Either inspired by an actual photo I see somewhere, or my subconscious plucks a stock image from my head of someone… anyone. It could be a person I’ve seen on TV, or in a movie, or in a magazine. Wherever.

For whatever reason, my brain then decides this person is the physical embodiment of my character and when I picture the landscape of their story, it’s that person in their role.

Like my brain has decided to make itself a casting agent for the movie in my head.

Then I get to know their voice after, the way I do any other character, but they are inextricably linked to that visual image for me forever.

Until recently, this was a rare phenomenon. 99.9% of the time, I developed characters the way I described happening with Grace. They began as a voice, then gained a personality, and mannerisms and actions. They grew outward, until the last thing to come to me was their physical being. The way a flower blooms, starting from a tiny bud.

However, something different happened with A Single Heartbeat.

As I mentioned in my guest blog over at fellow author Nic Starr’s site, the idea for that story came first from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Well, it began there, and then my brain ran with it.

Perhaps because the story began with an idea and not a voice, the characters of Will and Reese developed quite differently.

I’m a linear writer. Some authors can jump around the narrative, writing dribs and drabs, and then piece the story together like a quilt. I can’t do that. When I sat down to write A Single Heartbeat, I began with Reese staring out over the city.

That image, Reese in his posh penthouse, brooding over a glass of good scotch, came very vividly to me. And in it, Reese’s reflection appeared in the sparkling clean window. Before he had even opened his mouth, I had a visual of my bored, debonair vamp. And he looked very much like the dashing Tom Ellis, especially as he appears on the show Lucifer.

When he did start speaking, the voice I heard in my head sounded very like that character too.

Their stories and personalities, however, are quite different. Where Lucifer loves owning his club and revels in everything life has to offer, Reese has grown bored with existence. He’s more stoic, more closed off. On Lucifer, Chloe reigns in Lucifer’s more outrageous tendencies. She grounds him. Will, on the other hand, pushes Reese out of his rut.

Still, when picturing Reese, I will always see Tom.

 

[image error]I was hard-pressed to find a picture where he wasn’t smiling, since Lucifer is almost constantly grinning or being cheeky. Reese is not a big smiler.

Though it isn’t my usual process, I went with it. I had no choice, really, since once I began typing, A Single Heartbeat came out all in one fell swoop.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose, when Will also arrived with a very solid physical presence. Will is a work hard, play harder (when he gets the chance) type, so it stands to reason that my brain would conjure a face that calls that duality to mind. Especially given the source material from which the idea for A Single Heartbeat sprang.

[image error]*swoon*

It was, after all, James Marsters’ undeniable sensuality that first sparked my ‘What if…?’ mechanism. And Will’s attitude, at least outwardly, is very similar to Spike’s. He’s confident to the point of almost being cocky, a badass with a soft heart. A little morally grey.

“If you’re looking for fun, there’s death, there’s glory, and sod all else, right?” (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 5, Ep 7 ‘Fool for Love’)

While Will isn’t quite as devil-may-care as Spike, he enjoys being a hunter. He loves the thrill of a good fight. Unlike Reese, he’s not one for brooding. He doesn’t see the point in bottling up his emotions or stewing about slights. He is guarded, and yet wears his emotions on his sleeve. More contradictions.

I think that’s why James Marsters is the perfect face for Will.

(A note about the cover for A Single Heartbeat: You might notice that the models that appear on the cover don’t immediately call either Tom Ellis or James Marsters to mind. Unfortunately, it’s not realistic for me to have those two very handsome men pose for a shoot for me. As much as I would love that! So, compromises had to be made. While the models aren’t ringers, I thought they were a pretty decent approximation. What do you think?)

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Once A Single Heartbeat was finished, I figured I would move on to the next thing and go back to my usual way of character building. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with starting off with a visual and working inward. I know a lot of writers do it all the time. It just isn’t my usual way, and I thought the circumstances of how A Single Heartbeat came into being lent themselves to it.

But then I realized that story was only the first in a series. That there were more stories to tell in that world.

No big deal, right?

Yet, when the story that became A Kiss of Brimstone began to unfurl in my head, it once again came along with images.

Andras, my big, gorgeous demon lord whose intimidating looks hide layers of deep loyalty and genuine sweetness, walked into my mind’s eye wearing the visage of a very familiar actor. Ben, on the other hand, emerged from the story shadows slower. Not shy, or hesitant, but wary. Slow to trust.

Though Ben and Will are both hunters, their style and personalities are quite different. Will has a tendency to go with his gut and not question it. Ben, however, questions everything.

If Ben had a motto, it would probably be ‘Carelessness will get you killed. Always have a plan.’ (Which is why it was so much fun for me to put him in a situation where his world view was being tilted off its axis.)

In a couple of months (if not sooner… still waiting on an official releases date) when you read A Kiss of Brimstone, will you be picturing Andras & Ben the same way I do?

[image error](L) Model/actor Nyle DiMarco & (R) Actor Jason Momoa: the visual inspirations for Ben & Andras, the MCs in my upcoming novella A Kiss of Brimstone

And now that A Kiss of Brimstone is in my editor’s hands, I am gearing up to get to work on the next installment of the Out in the Shadows series. At the moment, I’m calling it A Touch of Grace, though that’s a working title and subject to change.

Though the main characters featuring in A Touch of Grace both appear very briefly in A Kiss of Brimstone, I still know relatively little about them. Beyond what they look like, of course.

[image error](L) French model/actor/DJ Willy Montfret & (R) Polish model Bartek Borowiec: the visual inspirations for Raziel & Jesse

Raziel is an angel, one of Andras’ fellow celestials. So far, he is very much an enigma, and I can tell it’s going to take some time to get him to lower his guard and let anyone in. Even me.

Jesse, on the other hand, is an open book. Some characters are like that. They come to you and the entirety of their being just spills into your head like sunshine. That’s Jesse. Despite having dealt with some truly terrible things in his life, he is sweet and unaffected. Unlike the thick walls Raz has built, Jesse has none at all.

I think it’s going to be really interesting to see how they get on.

(None of this is to say that readers must picture my characters this way. If they get a different mental picture when they read A Single Heartbeat, or any of my other stories, that’s fine. But, when they were born inside my head, this is how they looked.)

At the end of the day, whether you start from the inside out, the outside in, piece them together like a patchwork quilt, or construct them like a robot, I think the important thing is that you give them dimensions. Some authors use character sheets, write backstory, and lay out a genealogy. Others only explore what gets shown on the page. I tend to get to know my characters like they’re someone I’ve met and we’re becoming friends. I let them reveal themselves to me as they feel comfortable.

My characters feel real to me. I hope they feel real to the reader as well.

Have you read A Single Heartbeat? If so, I’d love to hear your thoughts about Will & Reese. Is this how you picture them?

If you haven’t read it yet, you can pick up a copy from Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, or directly from MLR Press!

5 Simple Rules for Giving Good Feedback

Last week, I talked about how to take criticism, whether it’s well-meant or not. It’s an important skill all authors should have. Both to keep improving in your writing, and to maintain a professional demeanor.

Knowing how to give criticism in a constructive manner is equally as important. And that goes for everyone, not just authors.

But, as I am an author, and this is my blog, I’m going to focus mainly on how this applies to writing. Of course, there are a lot of parallels to non-writing situations, but I’ll let you make those yourself.

When someone asks you to read their work, they are opening up to you, showing you their vulnerable belly. It should go without saying that you shouldn’t go for it, claws out. Especially not the first time, before you’ve established a relationship with the writer.

I’m pretty wary about asking new people to beta my stuff. Not that I’m overly sensitive, but because more often than not, people just don’t seem to be able to offer helpful feedback… or really any feedback at all, which is very frustrating. They don’t know how to critique, and are therefore tentative about what they’re willing to say.

So, I thought I would offer some rules for giving good critique that will help authors and readers alike.

Feedback can be broad and simple. “I really liked it!” or “This story left me confused.” Though brief, both of these pieces of feedback are helpful in a general context. And you don’t need to be an editor or a literary critic or a fellow author to offer these kinds of comments.

The most important thing is that you be truthful about your feelings. Even if you didn’t enjoy it. I mean, don’t be a dick. (There’s no need to be like, “Fuck, this sucks. You should just give up.”)

But be honest. That’s rule #1 of any critique.

‘Don’t be a dick’ is rule #2. That one is pretty self-explanatory.

General impressions are good, but more often than not, an author is going to be looking for something deeper. Think of it as your review of the book or story. What would you tell others who were trying to decide whether to read it or not? Only, you tell those things to the author, instead. (Don’t forget rule #2.)

You still don’t need to be an English major to help them out. In fact, unless an author is asking you to be their actual editor, your own personal writing skill and knowledge isn’t important for any level of criticism.

(Although both author and reader should bear it in mind, especially as it concerns comments about grammar or word choice.)

When you’re giving a more in depth read of a work, it is important that you make note of anything that sticks out to you, things that make you pause in your reading. Anything that makes you smile or laugh. Or frown. Point out the moments that make you feel something–whatever it is–and tell them how it affected you.

It’s fine not to like something, even if you don’t understand why exactly it rubs you the wrong way. What’s not good is just saying, “I don’t like this.” That’s not helpful, because it gives the author nothing to go on.

[image error]One of my favorite Season 4 BtVS moments is when Willow threatens to beat Riley to death with a shovel if he hurts Buffy. When he seems surprised, she says, “A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend.”

Specificity is good. Instead of just saying, “I didn’t like this”, try “This made me not like the character for X reasons.” The more detail you can give, the better the writer can understand what, if anything, needs changing.

It’s fine to offer suggestions as well, in order to get your point across. For instance, if a word in a sentence rubs you the wrong way, and you have an idea of what would make it flow better (to your mind), then mention it. The author isn’t obligated to take your suggestion, but it can give them an idea of possible alternatives at the very least.

I always warn people who ask me to critique or beta read for them that I prefer to be very specific. Some authors, especially sensitive ones, can read a high number of comments as negative, even if the overall tone of the comments isn’t.

Personally, I think the more you give me, the better. But, I guess I should add YMMV here. Not everyone likes a ton of feedback. If it’s your first time reading and critiquing a particular author, point out anything major that jumps out at you, or any time you have a strong reaction. Get a feel for their temperament before you go whole hog.

But, in general, the more specific your comments, the better. That’s rule #3.

This next one is sort of a half-rule. Or a sub-rule. Let’s call it 3a. Be willing to discuss your comments with the author. Even if you think you were really clear in how you felt about something, the author may need some more clarification in order to figure out a fix.

(Now, if they’re coming back at you all defensively to tell you why you’re wrong, you don’t need to be about that. You can send them a link to my Taking Criticism 101 post and get on with your life.)

For this next rule, I don’t think I can stress enough how important it is in a critique to not only point out the things you don’t like, or that don’t work for you. While this does help the author, reading an endless list of things they screwed up can be really daunting and make them not want to address anything.

This rule goes hand in hand with #2.

Highlight the things they did well. The characters that you really liked. The dialogue that made you laugh. The imagery that was so vivid you could see it. Whatever it is. Not only does it make the author feel good, but it’s also helpful in strengthening their writing style.

Knowing when you’ve gotten something right, having it pointed out, makes it easier to understand where the goal line is. It also gives the author a way to gauge the reader’s mood and mindset. Not every reader is going to feel the same way about a story.

Getting critiques from a diverse group of readers can be really interesting and helpful to the writing process. Varied perspectives can aid an author in strengthening areas they aren’t even aware were weak.

But regardless of whether or not their work is your particular jam, you should always be able to find a few things that you like. Make sure you mention them. Pepper your “this needs work” comments with some “this is great!” Find a balance.

I don’t mean that you need to have just as many positive comments as negative ones, or vice versa. When I say ‘balance’, I’m referring more to a tone than an actual scale. Don’t be relentlessly negative, or overly positive. Neither one ends up being incredibly helpful to the author in the long run.

Rule #4. Offer a balanced opinion.

The last rule is the most important one. It’s the one you should never, ever forget. No matter what you do.

Rule #5…

Don’t. Be. A. Dick.

You don’t have to be mean to be constructive. You’re not getting points from anyone for slicing someone’s work to shreds. No matter how much you may dislike a piece of writing, the person who wrote it and shared it with you put a lot of themselves into it. Even if it doesn’t seem like it to you. You need to respect that.

[image error]

 

That’s it. Five (and a half) simple rules for giving good, helpful feedback! Use them and your author friends will thank you.

Now, for a quick recap….

Rule #1: Be Honest

Rule #2: Don’t be a dick.

Rule #3: Be Specific

#3a: Be Willing to Be MORE Specific

Rule #4: Strike a Balance Between Praise & Criticism

Rule #5: SERIOUSLY, DON’T BE A DICK

Taking Criticism 101

Something happened this week. Someone said something that offended some other people. There was a reaction. And then a reaction to the reaction, and so forth. (I know, shocker. As if we’re not all constantly shouting into the void of 1 and 0’s that make up the internet. I mean, that’s essentially what I’m doing right this very second, isn’t it?)

This particular instance stirred up a lot of emotions for people, including me. I’m not going to comment on what was said exactly, because it’s been covered by people who were ground zero for the actual event, and then others who were hit with the ripple, and they’ve got a better grasp on what went down than me. Besides, it’s not like it’s an isolated incident. Similar situations crop up often, both online and in meatspace.

While I was hashing out my own emotions internally, however, it got me thinking about a larger issue. I thought I might talk about that, instead.

Criticism, constructive or otherwise, is something every single author is going to have to deal with throughout their career. A lot. Whether it comes from complete strangers in the form of reviews–both solicited from reviewers, and from readers–or as notes from beta readers/editors, it’s something we need to learn to deal with. To handle with grace & professionalism.

It’s not easy. No one likes hearing that they didn’t do something well, or that they screwed up. It’s frustrating and embarrassing. And that’s even when the criticism is offered in the best possible way.

Defenses go up. It’s a natural reaction.

But, as an author, it’s really important we learn to push past that first, knee-jerk response. In fact, it’s imperative. Because it’s often that reaction that indicates an area where we can stand to learn and grow.

The stronger the reaction to the criticism, the more likely it is that, deep down, we know the other party is right, that they’ve struck a nerve.

As distressing as that feeling can be, it’s a good indicator of an opportunity.

If you’re an author or aspiring to be one, I’m sure you’ve heard more than once that you need to develop a thick skin. It’s not bad advice. If every critique or rejection cuts you deep, you’re going to bleed to death real quick.

However, you can’t just let it all bounce off you either.

There has to be a balance, a happy medium, between bleeding out and being impervious. You have to let the criticism affect you. You have to. Don’t let it kill you, but let it in. It will make you a better writer.

Of course, it’s a lot easier to do that when the person offering the critique isn’t a jerk about it. But, on the flip side, just because someone is a jerk doesn’t mean they’re wrong. It’s not as simple as that. Sometimes jerks are right. And sometimes nice people are wrong, too. Even when they agree with us. We need to be able to see past our first blush of emotional atavism and decide which is true.

When it comes to beta reading, it is especially important that you find people who not only can express their views to you in a way you can process, but who will not hesitate to tell you if something isn’t working.

[image error]

[image error]Some notes from Beta Team Voltron on one of my recent novellas.

As nice as it might be to have a beta who constantly tells you how awesome you are, if that’s all they do, they’re doing you a disservice. Ideally, they will both point out bits that they really like and highlight the areas that aren’t working for them. And, when you balk, they’ll challenge you.

I can’t tell you how many times one of my betas has called me on the carpet. On everything from the overarching storyline not being believable, to a character’s name being repetitive, to use of a single word that sours a sentence for them.

Not going to lie, sometimes their comments frustrate me.

I have, more than once, thought, “Grr! They just don’t get it!”

Which, if this were a silly movie, would be the moment for a record scratch. Because you really need to pay attention to this.

“They just don’t get it!” is not an acceptable response.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. It’s okay if that’s your initial reaction. Totally understandable. But that’s when you need to take a step back and ask yourself an incredibly important question:

Why aren’t they getting it?

As authors, it’s our job to make sure our readers ‘get it’. If they’re not, then we’re not doing our job. Of course, this is a general statement that doesn’t apply to every situation. If only one person has an issue grasping something you’re trying to convey, it may be an issue with their knowledge base or perception and not your writing. But if several readers are telling you there’s a problem, then you need to figure out where you’re going wrong.

In the same vein, if a bunch of people are telling you that something is problematic, you need to fight past your instinctive defensiveness and figure out how to do better.

Let me tell you about an experience I had. When I was working as a ghostwriter, one of my clients was a really sweet, older, white gay man. We got on well, and even had a bonding moment over the “inspirational” image he sent me for the hero. The story he hired me to write, however, wasn’t a gay romance. It was interracial. Or, what is often referred to in the vernacular as ‘BWWM’ (Black Woman, White Man).

He dictated the outline of the story, a sort of modern twist on the Cinderella story, but within his parameters, I was allowed to write the characters as I wished.

I ended up really liking the characters I created. I grew a bit attached to them. Though it wasn’t a story I would have chosen to write on my own, I did my best to make it a good one, and in the end, I was quite proud of it.

My client was nice enough to let me know when the story posted, so I could keep track of how it did. Even though I have no claims to it after handing it over, I sometimes like to check in and see what people have to say. Since no one has any idea I wrote it, I figure they’re going to be pretty unbiased.

When I checked it on this particular story, I was shocked by what I discovered.

Several African American women had posted reviews pointing out some problematic areas in the story. There weren’t a ton. In fact, they weren’t even the majority of the reviews. But there were more than two. A small handful. And they all mentioned variations of the same thing: despite my best attempts, the story perpetuated some hurtful stereotypes.

I didn’t mean to do that, and I hadn’t seen that I had. In fact, I thought I’d written a pretty kickass female protagonist, and when I read these reviews, my first reaction was to be upset. Really upset.

“I didn’t mean it that way! They’re taking it wrong!”

But they weren’t. They had just experienced the reality of being a Black woman, and I hadn’t. I couldn’t, no matter how much research I did or what care I took or how much I might sympathize with that group. And because of that, my client and I both failed to see how the story I wrote could be construed. It wasn’t malicious, but we had still screwed up. We didn’t respond to the reviews, of course (‘don’t respond to reviews’ is a universally accepted bit of advice, and an overall good one) but it took me several days to get over my initial defensiveness.

When I did, I remembered something one of the members of Beta Team Voltron had told me once.

Anna and I met in a Facebook readers’ group, and our first interaction took place during a debate about fetishising POC. I grew up in a really liberal area, but it was predominantly white, so my experiences with POC were limited. As open-minded as I like to think I am, I wasn’t getting it. I didn’t mean it that way, I said. It doesn’t make sense to me, I kept pressing, explain it to me.

But Anna said to me something along the lines of, “Look, when people from a marginalized group tell you how something feels, you don’t need to understand why it feels that way. Maybe just listen to what they’re saying and believe them.”

(She’s a smart lady and I’m lucky she’s my friend and beta.)

I can’t do anything about that story that’s already out there, unfortunately. But when I write characters now, I think of what stereotypes I might be perpetuating, and how their actions might be construed as representative of their demographic. And I think all of my characters–no matter their age, gender, ethnicity, or sexuality–are the better for it.

Fighting through my hurt and embarrassment and anger to internalize those criticisms, letting them affect me, made me a better writer.

I think perhaps a big part of my conditioned response to criticism comes from my history working in customer service fields. Both in hospitality and as rental car agent, I’ve had people quite literally scream invective in my face telling me something is fucked up and it’s all my fault. And sometimes it even was. Either way, I wanted to curse those people out for being mean, hateful people. But I couldn’t. I had to handle them professionally. I had to listen to what they had to say and then try to salvage the situation. To make them happy. That was my job. And I was pretty good at it.

Only rarely could I not turn the situation around. But if I had let my anger and defensiveness get the better of me, it would have been a lost cause.

How do I apply this to writing? Well, when it comes to my beta readers, I go through all their notes slowly. I first address and accept any notes/changes/suggestions where it’s immediately apparent to me they’re right.

When I get to something that makes me bristle, I take a breath, read back over the bit in question and their comment again, and then I leave it. I sit on it for at least a day, let it ferment in my brain. I may ask for clarification, or tell them what I was going for so they can offer some suggestions on how better to convey that, but I make no decisions right then. I think it over.

Sometimes I debate them on it (note: this only applies to Beta Team Voltron, not any other betas or editors or reviewers, because I know BTV well and they know me and my writing and we can debate each other without burning bridges) and then I think about what they’ve said and whether or not I feel strongly enough about what I’ve written to keep it despite that.

Sometimes, I don’t make the changes. But that criticism was still helpful, because it challenged me and made me think about my writing and the choices I made. When it’s done, I feel more confident in my writing. I know it’s better than it would have been otherwise.

Now, remember how I mentioned the universally accepted wisdom ‘do not respond to reviews’? Well, I’m going to tell you a little secret.

I’ve responded to reviews before. Negative reviews, even.

I would not at all recommend you do this. Especially if your response is going to be to tell the reviewer how wrong they are about something.

DO NOT DO THAT.

I can’t stress that enough. Don’t argue with your reviewers. If you feel tempted to argue with them, step away from your device, get yourself a glass of wine (or drink of choice) and vent to your friends or betas.

However, I will tell you what I did and the results, because I think they are apropos to this post.

One job I had freelancing, I actually got to interact with readers. It was a pen name owned by the client, and I wrote the stories based on the client’s specifications, but I got to ‘be’ that author while I was writing under that name.

So, when the first novella came out, they were the first bad reviews that felt like they were actually mine. And I did what you’re not supposed to do. I responded to them. All of them. Publically.

Here is the gist of what I said: Thank you for reading & reviewing _______! I really appreciate it. I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy the story. Hopefully, you’ll like the next one better.

Sometimes I asked them follow-up questions, like what it was about a characterization, etc, that they didn’t like, if they mentioned specifics.

Most of the time, the reviewers didn’t acknowledge my response, which I considered the best case scenario. But a few of them did, and were surprisingly very nice about it. Even ones who had been harsh originally. I ended up getting some good feedback. And I thanked all of them for their answers, even when I didn’t agree.

A few of them actually gave my writing a second chance because they felt I was really listening to them. And a couple ended up becoming fans. All because I took their criticism seriously and responded with sincerity and respect.

The TL;DR is… Here’s what I learned as a restaurant hostess that I apply to taking criticism as a writer:

Take a deep breath. Blow it out. Repeat this a couple of times until your lungs don’t feel all squeezy and your heart rate slows a bit.
Mentally go back over what the person has said, trying to understand the crux of their problem.
Figure out what, if anything, you can do to address it. (Side note here: sometimes the answer is nothing. You can’t fix everything, for various reasons. Examine those reasons and make sure they’re valid and not just stemming for your stubbornness, though.)
Be sincere in your response. Being dismissive or defensive isn’t going to help you, or anyone.

There are caveats, of course. When it comes to reviewers, unless and until you’ve mastered the calm, respectful, open response, it’s best not to respond at all. ‘DO NOT RESPOND TO REVIEWS’ became an axiom because it’s a failsafe way to avoid causing more problems. It is good advice.

Again, to be really, crystal clear: don’t ever argue with a reviewer. Not ever. It will not do anyone any good, least of all you.

But in pretty much any other instance, when you receive criticism–whether it’s presented in a constructive manner or not–if you follow these steps, I guarantee you (and your writing) will be better off for it.