Alexa Nichols's Blog, page 10

Why I’m scared of my own shadow…

I know some of you may feel like I’ve been neglecting you. My email responses have been sparse, my social media presence has been bare bones, and the frequency of my Diary posts suck ass. I’m actually thinking about going back to a daily post, but I’m not sure how interesting that would be to people. I’ve been trying to focus more on quality than quantity lately, but the reality is this was never intended to be a blog or anything – this was supposed to be my online digital diary, open for all to see. Because openness rocks. Most of the time. Anyway, the reason my social skills have sucked this week is that I have been writing my skinny white ass off. Mainly on this story:



It’s one of my Erotic Urban Legends that I make for my Patreon members. My original idea was to just write a free-flowing horror story, to not even use an outline or anything, and to keep it short – like under 2,500 words or so.

Fast forward two fucking weeks. 😑

It currently sits at 16,000 words and is (finally) in its final stages of revision! I swear, this fucking story has consumed my life. And not entirely in a good way. Ever since I started writing it I’ve been having nightmares, and being alone has started to creep me out. And don’t even get me talking about looking in mirrors when no one else is around.

It’s not pretty.

Is it bad that I’m scaring myself with my own story?! I feel like I’m scared of my own shadow anymore. Like, I have to have people around me, or I start to freak. What’s really bad is after I finish this I’m bopping back to the final revisions of Family Values, another scary story. And then Voyeur: Season 2, Episode 4, which is currently at a dystopian The Handmaid’s Tale type of scenario. After that, I’m finishing up the rough draft of Nephilim: Prisoner. It’s like one scary story after another! 😭

I think I need to balance this shit out with some comedy or something. Maybe a quick funny Phi Beta Pie kind of thing, I dunno. Suggestions? Maybe I’ll shoot something out this weekend. Which means direct message me with ideas, motherfuckers! 😅

Until then: Skyrim time. So much Skyrim time…

My latest addiction! 🖍

Hi. My name is Alexa. I’m an Otaku (huge anime fan), an avid video game player (current obsession: Skyrim), and I have a fairly serious addiction to writing in almost every genre (my current favorites being romance, fantasy, sci-fi, dystopian, horror, and erotica).

Oh, and recently I’ve become completely addicted to coloring books. 😅

You think I’m playing, but I’ve even started a Pinterest board and everything for the pictures I plan to color. I’ve been using GIMP to do the actual coloring, and it’s amazing how relaxing and absorbing the entire process can be.

I completely blame Anne.

She has this app on her phone that she uses to color all these cool pictures, see, and it baffled me how consumed she would get. I mean, I bounced things off her head and she barely even noticed. So, during my lunch break the other day, I decided to check out some uncolored pictures on Pinterest and play around a bit. Time whizzed by. I now understand why coloring is so relaxing: it’s mindless, and the end result is pretty. I am officially addicted.

When I think about it, coloring is a bit like writing. Writing is not mindless, of course, but when you really let yourself go and just immerse yourself into your story, time can whip by, and the end result is beautiful. You can always tell when I writer loves what they are writing: it may not be the most grammatically correct thing, but the feeling, the emotion, the passion exudes from the words. You can see the story unfold in your mind’s eye, and hopefully even relate to the characters as they live out their little fictional lives in the pages of the book.

And, of course, it’s a sad thing, because you know the time you have together is finite. With every turn of the page, you are bringing the character, the story, one step closer to death. To having to say goodbye. And when you really get attached, when you become emotionally and mentally invested in the story you’re reading, finishing it can give you a strange sensation of abandonment. Mourning. Almost as if the story and its characters were real, and they left you.

It’s how I feel when I finish writing a story, now that I think about it. It’s always a sad thing, like one of my children is leaving home or something. When you write, you grow attached to your creations, you watch them grow and evolve, mature and flesh out – much like you would a child. And when it’s all said and done, when you send it out to the world, it’s… well… bittersweet.

Anyway.

Sorry for the rambling.

To think, this all started from talking about coloring. 😅

Thank you for reading, my loves.

I really, truly, and deeply appreciate it.


P.S: Go check out my first public Hump Day post on Patreon, “The beginning of the end!” https://buff.ly/2PSKqVy 🤗

Whoring out my insomnia…

Insomnia is no joke. It’s debilitating, humiliating, and generally just maddening. It’s also really useful when used correctly, such as to flush out stories or plan future ones. ✊ There are two reasons I’m plagued with insomnia: a series of incidents in my past that I really don’t want to get into here (my Patreon members already know why) and my imagination. See, when I’m having fun writing a story, I have a tough time shutting my mind off. I continuously think of things to add, character characteristics, and elements to, you know, change.

I’m not overdramatizing. This is seriously an issue for me.

It creates some interesting stories, yes, but it also takes its toll on my overall sanity. And my big brother unit. Take last night, for example: I went to bed absolutely exhausted, put my phone at the other end of the room so I wouldn’t be tempted to simply reach over and turn it on (which I do constantly when it’s close), and after who-knows-how-long of tossing and turning, finally managed to bore myself to sleep. When I woke up to use the bathroom sometime later, I felt completely rested and mentally refreshed.

I had only slept three hours.

It was too early to eat breakfast (I have my body on a very strict eating schedule of 6AM/12PM/6PM), too early to harass people on social media, and I was too awake to go back to bed. My mind wasn’t quite lucid enough to write (I needed food in my belly for all that) so, naturally, I crept into my big brother’s room and crawled into bed with him – staring at him quietly and unblinkingly until he woke up.

This is not the first time I’ve done this, of course. Hell, that wasn’t even the first time I did that this week. Instead of his usual reaction of growling and pushing me away until I fall to the floor, he actually reached out and pulled me to him, and we cuddled for a bit until he finally threw the covers off and got up to turn some lights on. We playfully smack-talked for a bit, watched the latest episode of Dancing With The Stars on Hulu (how the fuck did Tinashe get eliminated?! I am so sorry, girl! You got robbed! 😳) and wasted the rest of the morning keeping my brother by my side via death lock and watching Sabrina The Teenage Witch reruns on Hulu.

It was nice. And set the tone for the rest of my day. After prying myself away from the brother unit I made some black-as-my-soul coffee, turned the lights off, threw on my headphones, and cranked out a ton of verbiage.

It was beautiful.

On that note.

I stumbled across a review left for Please Don’t Get Me Pregnant! (Quickies), and I’ve been smiling about it ever since. Here it is in its entirety:



Attila

5.0 out of 5 stars First story in the “Alexaverse” chronology

October 11, 2018

Format: Paperback | Verified Purchase

The writer excels at erotica with an edgy, contemporary, and generally fearless ambiance. In crafting her stories she reflects an understanding of the connection between erotica and the psychological and/ or emotional motivations of her characters. Not everyone can do that. In doing so, she writes in a unbound, expressive style which underscores a sincere, positive global attitude towards sex in general and the common humanity in us all.

Please note that most of her short stories and novellas feature many of her characters, situations and relationships at different points in time. They inhabit a world of the author’s creation called the “Alexaverse”. The first book in the chronology is “Please Don’t Get Me Pregnant!”. The stories do not need to be perused in sequence to be enjoyed but reading them in sequence enhances them. That said, I started them out of sequence and enjoyed them. Highly recommended.



For all of you who have left reviews on any of my works: thank you. They mean so much more to me than you know. In that vein, do me a favor and drop by Twitter and tell @lamarjackson2 to get well soon (he just got out of the hospital), not only because he continually leaves thoughtful and touching reviews for my books but mainly because he’s an awesome person. And the only boo boo I got. Tell him Alexa sent you. 😉

Thank you for reading.

I love you.

I really, really do.

A moment of seriousness…

It occurred to me while I was in the throes of writing this week (feverishly making up for lost time from being on vacation) just how lucky I am as an author. I mean, how many authors do you know that can get away with working a light part-time job and dedicate over eight hours to writing every single day because their readers financially support them enough through either Patreon or from buying their eBooks, paperbacks, and audiobooks?

That support drives me, pushes me, makes me not only want to be better but to be more proliferate as well. It’s an amazing symbiotic relationship that I never knew could have existed.

All of this, my entire fledgling career, is because of you guys.

You are more than mere readers to me. You are my friends. My confidants. In some cases, my digital baby daddies. 😅

You are more than just financial supporters though. You are my little virtual community. Some of you even act as impromptu therapists whenever things get a bit much for me to handle. That is invaluable to me. I have grown so much as an author – as a person – because of you guys.

I genuinely believe that I am the luckiest author on the planet.

My readers are fucking amazing.

I love all my #Alexaliens! 😊

This is a strange, emo Diary entry, I know, but in an online world where everyone seems to be condescending someone or complaining about something, sometimes it’s important to remember that even though we’re all on computers, there are people at the ends of those computers. Real, living, caring, valuable people.

And people matter. Even the ones we don’t like or agree with.

People don’t have to be your friends. They don’t have to like you. They definitely don’t have to buy your works.

So for those of you that do:

Thank you.

Seriously.

From the bottom of my heart.

That is all.



P.S: The paperback edition of Daddy’s Girl is now available. If you feel so inclined, go get it. 🤗

Take my hand…

I want you to silence your mind for a moment. Clear out all your stress and worries, all your doubts and fears. We have a trip to take, you and me. But first, you need to wipe your conscious of the mundania that clutters it, that no doubt stagnates in it like a cesspool or quagmire of soul-killing manmade reality.

Take your time.

It might take a while.

I’ll wait beside you patiently, watching you, soothing you. It’s hard, I know, but worth it. So very worth it. And on this trip I’m about to take you on, luggage (even – especially – the mental kind) is prohibited.

Are you ready yet?

Good.

That took longer than I thought, and we have places to go.

Well, one place actually.

But what a place it is…

I move to stand in front of you. You see that I’m wearing a white summer dress, and my long red hair is bound snugly in a ponytail. I look you in the eyes and reach out, taking your hand in mine and gently squeezing it, reassuring you. You worry a bit, because you know that wherever it is I’m about to take you must warrant such reassurance.

I smile again, almost as if I can read your thoughts.

Which I can, of course.

And you’re right.

I turn and keep your hand firmly in mine, making you follow me, and though you could probably resist my insistence, you don’t want to. You’re curious, after all.

And you know me.

I’m usually not the enigmatic type, but today I’m being uncharacteristically quiet and mysterious. I look back at you and smile, and my smile puts you at ease a bit.

But just a bit.

Within moments we arrive at a house. There are so many elements to it that its impossible to completely take in with one glance. Your mind demands to process every aspect of it individually, so you allow it to. It’s not like you have much of a choice.

The first thing your consciousness registers is the sheer size of it. It’s massive. More mansion than house, it only has two floors but looks as if it could be used as a hotel or a club.

Or an asylum.

I gently squeeze your hand.

Bingo.

When I finally speak you jump, because my voice has a different tinge to it than usual – a quality that is hard to pinpoint but impossible not to notice. Almost as someone is speaking with me, their voice just a pitch lower than mine and a tiny half second off.

It could merely be your imagination, of course.

It most likely is.

Right?

“What you’re looking at, my love, is The Lent Mansion. It is referred to in whispers by the locals as Death Mansion, and it has been vacant for nearly three decades. This has recently changed. Relatives of the original owner have returned to reclaim the property and hopefully scrub from it a long, sordid history that would chase away any ordinary, sane mortals.”

I smile at you, checking to see if you’re following me thus far. My smile widens as I see you are. I continue.

“It all started when the mansion was built in 1860 by Travis Lent on top of an Indian burial ground. Mr. Lent was a successful doctor who ended up committing suicide in 1904 after the youngest of his four sons, Trevor, died. A few years later, his wife succumbed to cancer. Then, in 1922, Mark Lent shot himself in the same room his father Travis Lent killed himself.”

Your eyes widen and you look at me. Why would I bring you to a place such as this? Why would I tell you this? I wink.

Have patience, dear reader. I’m not done quite yet.

“Shortly after the house was transformed into an asylum that housed a little over 250 patients when it opened in 1894. Fast forward to the 1950’s, when the facility reached its peak and had more than 2,400 patients living in overcrowded and inhumane conditions — some even kept in cages. In 1977 the asylum closed.”

I hold up a finger, stopping your questions. I still am not done. Almost, but not quite.

Patience, my love.

“Roughly 10 years later, descendants of Travis Lent, Jedediah and Angela Lent, were murdered, along with their four children and two friends who were spending the night. To this day the crime remains a mystery. Death Mansion has been universally accepted as one of, if not the, most haunted houses in the country.”

I look at you, curious as to how you are receiving the knowledge I imparted. I can see the questions in your eyes that your mouth has yet to speak: is all of this true? The house certainly looks the part. Even if it is all true, why would I tell you this?

“I’m telling you this, my love, because we are going in.”

You try to turn back. You can’t. My hand has a much stronger grip than you initially thought. For such a small, unassuming female, I’m strong. Immovably strong. You have no choice but to follow…



Do I have your attention? 😉

I took a brief break from writing the latest book in my Nephilim series to churn out a quick little erotic tale about a patchwork family with zero inhibitions. I figured it would be a short, simple little story, one I could basically just sit down and write without even having to outline it. Cause, you know, standard basic stuff, right?

Sigh.

25,000+ words later (so far – I’m not done revising), and I’m beginning to see how little self-control I actually have as an author. See, this story didn’t start out the way it ended. A longstanding joke (acute observation) of mine is that I can’t write a simple smut story to save my life. Even my Quickies series, which are supposed to be unapologetic erotic romps, always have other elements woven within – whether it be romance, psychological, paranormal, magic, or violence.

This was supposed to be my first true foray into straight smut. I mentally drafted out a story that was supposed to be a simple little tale of inter(step)family lust. Stepsister, stepbrother, stepmother. That’s it.

And then ideas started erupting in my head while I was bathing. Things like: Wouldn’t it be cool if maybe the stepmother was a little bit… off? And What if the reason she was off was that the house was haunted? And then Maybe the house is haunted because it has a horrific past! And then, of course, Maybe the stepbrother and stepsister wouldn’t just have a simple string of fuck sessions. Maybe he’ll be reluctant, and turn her down repeatedly, and she’ll want him in the worst way but can’t have him. Maybe their relationship will morph into a romantic one… etc.

Yeah, I have a twisted little mind. And things only got worse. My Patreon subscribers, who are privy to my entire writing process for every book I write (from outline to rough draft, then my various revisions) get to see all this up close, as I post everything once a week so they can comment on it and maybe give their suggestions/critiques on the way the story is going. So they already know how creatively chaotic my mind is, and how drastically my stories change as they progress.

So if any of them read this, they won’t be surprised at all.

I like the way it turned out, however. Hopefully you guys will too.

Here’s a sneak peek at the cover:



Which, of course, doesn’t go at all with how the story ended up. But fuck it. It was an enormous amount of fun to write, and at the end of the day, isn’t that all that truly matters?

Thank you for reading.

I love you.

I’m back!

To write that it’s good to be back is a massive understatement. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been on a weeklong vacation from not only work and writing but social media as well. And it was lovely. I watched a ton of anime, read both manga and novels until my eyes bled, and spent some much-needed quality time with everyone important in my life.

It was refreshing, enlightening, and invigorating.

And a lot of fun.

I did a lot of introspection during this time as well. Mostly about being an author, what it means to me, and how I can improve myself on every end of the spectrum. I came up with a lot of interesting ideas that I filed away to process after my vacation ended, so don’t be surprised if you see some major changes in the way I handle things in the next few weeks. Like more frequent Diary entries, for example. And a ton of Patreon content. My author task list looks insane right now, but that’s a good thing. The day it’s complete will be the day I start seriously questioning my title of author.

There is so much more I want to write about right now (things like recent romantic entanglements, my fight with addiction, and my current relationship status), but my goal is to put out more focused, quality entries. I’ll go into detail about all of those things I listed in future posts (and much more), don’t worry, but for now: I’ll see you all soon.

And thank you for reading.

I missed you guys so motherfucking much…

I’m taking a vacation!

I’m basically copying/pasting from an announcement I gave my Patreon members earlier because I still have quite a few things to do before I can call it quits for the night. So. Here goes:

On the 1st, I’m going on a weeklong vacation and will be utterly unreachable by everyone save the family, Anne, and Rebecca. I won’t be doing anything author related. Anything. It’s going to be straight up Alexa time, because honestly I deserve a vacation and I haven’t taken one since… well… ever. Since I started writing two years ago I’ve been going full-tilt, juggling five hours a day of writing plus a job and familial/romantic responsibilities.

And I love it.

But it can be draining.

And I need to recharge my creative batteries, you know? To kick back and enjoy the fruits of my labor a bit.

The good news? I’ll be back full-force October 8th. 🤗 My last communication with the outside world will be the weekly Patreon chat this Sunday, so be there, motherfuckers.

I love you. All of you. And I’ll miss you.

Don’t forget about me. I promise I won’t forget about you. 😉

Just call me Senpai

One of the questions I get asked most often (and by most often I mean damn near twice a week) is how to write a story – how to get from point A to point Z. And I legit hate this question, though probably not for the reasons you may think. I hate it because I highly encourage everyone to come up with their own modus operandi, their own way of crafting a story that is not only unique but comfortable and natural to them as well.

However, I understand why they’re asking. Writing can be (and often is) scary when you’re first starting out. You’re always wondering if you’re doing something wrong, how to be better, and how to get an edge over what everyone else is doing to make yourself stand out and sell more books.

I understand. I get it. I was like that when I first started out too.

And then I just said fuck it. 😅

I don’t agonize over sales anymore, and generally don’t care what the next author is up to (though I do admittingly stalk several authors such as Amanda and Selina because I find them fascinating as fuck). I also don’t write what I think will sell best (shut up Quickies), I write what’s screaming to rip its way out of my head. But that’s me now. I’ve clawed my way to this point, and to be honest, it wasn’t easy.

So I understand. I get it.

Which is precisely why I’m about to do a short series on story crafting. I’ll be posting it on Patreon at the rate of about one episode a week, with a link to it here in the pages of my Diary and on social media. So keep an eye out for it. 😊

Some of you may be like “Hold up wench. What makes you qualified to produce a series on story crafting?!”

I’m glad you asked.

The quick and dirty answer: I make a reasonably decent amount of money every month doing it, so I must be doing something right.

The better answer: experience.

See, I’ve learned a lot over these past few years as a self-published author, most of which from being hard-headed and making about every mistake imaginable. Hell, my first handful of books didn’t even have a table of contents or metadata because I was trying to be different. It wasn’t until I had a spicy back and forth with a representative from Smashwords (whom I no longer publish through) that I began to see the error of my ways. It was then that I decided to start taking this author stuff seriously. On several levels.

Hopefully, you’ll come check the series out and let me know what you think.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to writing a tale of love, ghosts, and incest… 😏

Breaking records…

So I’m stubborn. Many of you already know that, but let me illustrate why I’m writing that now.

I woke up yesterday morning feeling like someone stepped on me, wiped their feet on my body, and then kicked me across the room for good measure. I also woke up late as hell, because my body just refused to rise any sooner. I slithered into the kitchen and smacked my big brother unit repeatedly (we both had these past few days off) until he made me some peanut butter pancakes and oatmeal, and then rolled to my computer desk like Sonic the Hedgehog to start my day of writing.

The first few minutes were spent simply staring at my computer screen, blinking dumbly and swaying in my chair.

The next handful of hours were spent cranking out 7,469 words yesterday, and almost the same amount today. Both days broke personal records. 😳

That is not a brag. That is me mystified at how productive I can be even though I feel the way I do. Putting my headphones on and diving into Nephilim: Prisoner transports me to another world, and by the time the clock buzzes after five hours have passed I’m always baffled at where the time went. I’m enjoying writing this book so much, even though it’s quickly climbing to 50,000 words. A true novel-length book. My first. Definitely not my last.

And I have a surprise for my Patreon supporters: when the book is finally finished, they will get it immediately. Well, as soon as my editor and Beta Reader Hit Squad gets done with it. Soon, my pretty’s, soon… 🤗

Which means if you haven’t read the first book in the series, Nephilim: Daybreak, please do so. Or you could always pick up the audiobook instead if that’s your thing. It will be worth it, trust me. And it will make the second book make a lot more sense.

Anyway.

I think my big brother unit needs some cockblocking attention – his ex-girlfriend just came over and they’re sitting a little too close on the couch. 😅 Until tomorrow, my loves…

Let’s talk about sex…

I get hostile when I’m horny. Fact. Especially when I have a living, breathing vessel for my sexual release but she always seems to be motherfucking busy lately bitch you know I’m talking to you get your ass over here and give me release before I kill you and anyone that looks like you

Sorry. Got a little carried away there. 😳

Maybe I have too much energy because I haven’t been able to work out lately. I apparently went a little overboard and hurt my left foot – nothing serious, but enough to cancel out most of my cardio for a bit. Which means all this energy I usually let loose is building up, and

seriously bitch answer your motherfucking text messages you know I’m trying to get ahold of you quit acting bougie I know where you live

I guess what I’m trying to say is that my hormones are going crazy, and it’s beginning to seep into my writing in a huge way. Like, my love scenes are ending up multi-paged and cranking out dialogue is only annoying me. 😅 This is usually the reverse of the way I write. I think my day can best be summed up by a social media post I let loose this morning:



“Slept like shit. Can’t quit coughing. Coffee having zero effect. Did not feel like writing. Sat down to write anyway. Somehow managed to crank out 2,516 words. 😳 #AmWriting #AmEditing #AmPossessed?”



So yeah.

Slight topic shift.

As I write this, I’m listening to the latest podcast from Writing Excuses, Episode 13.37, and it has to be one of the most audibly awkward experiences I’ve ever had. In it, they are talking to a guest author about writing characters that are gender nonconformist, binary, etc., which apparently the author defines herself as. I’m kind of looking at my speaker like it’s insane because it seems like… I’ll just say this: I’m bisexual. I know this because I am sexually attracted to, and have fallen in love with, both men and women. I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks about this, and I feel absolutely zero motivation to continually discuss it or throw it in anyone’s faces. I mean, why would I? What would I gain? That being written, everyone has a right to sexually be whatever they want to be and see themselves in whatever sexual light they choose, but why does this have to be a constant public discussion? People being offended by pronouns, public restroom usage, etc.

It seems like recently this whole non-binary thing has just erupted and it’s something like a fashion statement now. I see it all over social media on almost every platform, and it just puzzles me. Honestly, I don’t care one way or another what someone’s sexual or romantic (or lack thereof) preference is… I’m going to stop myself there before I go on a real rant. I dunno. Maybe I’m just weird.

Anyway, as always, thank you for taking time out of your life to read my words. I love you for that.

What are your thoughts?

Let me know. 😊