Daisy Harris's Blog, page 42

Twitter Tutorial #1

Hi guys! A lot of you know me from Twitter where I'm a bit of a fixture. So I've decided to post a series of YouTube video tutorials for newbies. Hope you find these helpful, and please pass on to any friends of yours who are just getting started using Twitter!

Why I Have an Agent (You Know it's Hard Out Here for a Pimp)

There've been a lot of blogs posted since the Romance Times Convention in Los Angeles last week about the role of agents. Does a new writer need one? Should you want one? And since I write in the ebook market, many folks in my genre and at my stage of the game wonder if an agent is the right choice for them.

It's a do-it-yourself world nowadays and there's a tendency to believe that anyone and everyone should be able to put up drywall, design a website, school their children, publish their own books, and perform their own pap smears with a kit they bought at Walmart.

So sure, you don't *need* an agent. If you're subbing to a publisher that doesn't require an agent, you can do whatever you want. But I have an agent. Her name is Saritza Hernandez and she's with the Lori Perkins Agency. Why do I choose to work with her? Because I understand my limitations.

One of my greatest strengths (besides being a kick-ass author) is I know where I need help. For example: I'm not great at color. I see certain shades in the green range as blue. So when I set out to paint the inside of our house, I hired an interior designer. Not for the whole project– I hired her for one hour. It cost about $100. She did a "color consultation" where she helped me choose tones for my walls. Painting costs a lot of money, so I spent $100 dollars to make sure we weren't investing $1000 on awful shades we wouldn't want to live with.

And yes, my house looks awesome.

Similarly, choosing a publishing house is a long term commitment. You're tied into whatever contract you negotiate for approximately the same amount of time you'll have a given shade of paint on your walls. You don't want to choose the wrong color. Depending on your knowledge of the publishing business, an agent might have a better sense of the right place for your books than you do.

However, my biggest reason for having an agent is that I'm a pushover. If left to my own devices, I would never ask for different contract terms, or request changes to cover art, or…okay– I'm gonna be honest here– demand payment from a publisher that hadn't paid me.

(Hangs head in shame.)

If you know Saritza, you may be laughing right now that she's my heavy. She's the bad-cop, the tough one, the person I can squeak and hide behind. She's really quite nice– but she's an agent. It's her job to get me good terms and make sure I'm happy with my publisher.

Now, most people are not as much of a wuss as me. I'm an extreme example. But as adults functioning in a business setting, we need to know what we're good at as well as the areas where we may need help.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Hustle and Flow. It's the story of a pimp who becomes a rapper and it's very sympathetic to the role of the pimp. He's a glorified taxi driver, a cheerleader, a business manager. One of his girls, Shug, is pregnant and hence staying in his house and not working. I saw an interview with the actress, , where she discussed how she didn't want to take the role initially. As a black actress, she didn't want to play a stereotypical prostitute– especially one who was totally dependent on her pimp.

The film's producer explained the role thus: there are some prostitutes who wouldn't demand money from a client if he refused to pay. They wouldn't or couldn't stand up for themselves, and as such would get eaten alive by any and everyone. A woman like that would be more than happy to ally themselves with a pimp who'd at least make sure she got paid and gave her a modicum of protection.

I'm not arguing prostitution is okay, or that pimps are in general nice people. But the exchange rang a chord for me. I may be very tough about some things, but I'm a wuss about business and money. If I were a publisher running a contract negotiation, it would go something like this:

"Dear author,

Here's a draft of your contract. I hope it's okay with you. Please let me know if there's anything at all you want to change."

"Thanks, publisher! It looks great. I'll send it back shortly."

"Really? Are you sure? Because we can totally change something if you want. It's not set in stone or anything."

"Um, no… It's fine."

"Oh good, because I was worried that you'd want a higher percentage. I mean, I know some of our competitors offer 42% while we offer 40% and I'm so glad you're okay with that."

"Well, actually…"

See! I would bury myself! If I were a prostitute and my client didn't want to pay, I'd be all, "Oh gosh, I'm sorry you didn't enjoy yourself. Here– let me give you a free blow-job to make up for it."

So, there you have it: I like having a pimp. I don't mind giving her a cut of my money, because she makes sure I don't get screwed. If a publishing house stopped sending payment, she'd make sure I followed up (because a portion of that money would be hers.) If a cover's not right at the start, having her on the email loop makes me feel brave enough to say something. If a publishing house left me out of some promotion or screwed up some typesetting issue, she'd make sure they addressed it. Even if the folks at that house weren't thrilled to make the change and I was too timid to ask a second time.

That's why I have an agent.

Do you have an agent? Do you want one? What would be your reasons?

An Ode to C*nt

The only thing I enjoy more than dancing at Romance Writers conventions is writing off-color poetry. Hope you enjoy!

I want a curse word for my c*nt.

A gash, a slash, a juicy bump,

A clit, a slit, a naughty bit,

Words for "down there" like we have for "tit."

Boys' parts sound all tough and strong,

Dick, prick and cock stand proud and long.

But pussy blushes– it's shy and pouts,

It whispers it's name, when I want to shout!

Should I have petals wet with dew?

Or a mysterious forest, or maybe *cough* two?

Is my "grotto" deep, my "chalice" full…

Can I speak of my "barn door" without all the bull?

Freud thought I wanted a penis and sperm,

But I love my privates, just lack the right term.

So I'll argue and clamor for my right to be blunt.

You can keep all your pussy, just leave me my CUNT.

The Tao of Steve

Please, please, please don't hit on me…

I don't normally go out much, at least not around strangers. But for the last few days, I've been at Romance Times Booklovers Convention mingling with all manner of unwashed masses. (Hey, I barely had time to shower myself!) In the process I've re-learned some things I'd forgotten about men.

A surprisingly large percentage of them don't know shit about women.

I brought the bad behavior on myself by deciding to go platinum blonde. I wanted to do something fun, playful, attention-grabbing. Let me tell you– it grabs attention, alright! This hair may be a little more car than I can handle. It's like walking around with a "hit on me" siren attached to my head.

Of course, the cover models at RT are paid to hit on us, God bless their souls. But I wouldn't mind dialing down the amount of attention I'm getting otherwise. There's some kind of sheet metal recyclers convention at the hotel– guys who seem *really* excited about the romance writers.

At 38, I'm too old for this crap. I'm long past sick of men who think they can intimidate me into liking them. Men who come on too strong, who think putting me down counts as flirting, who get aggressive when I resist their advances. Men who turn around and blame my outfit for their bad behavior. I was over that kind of thing in Junior High School.

Unlike in romance novels, where pushy, single-minded heroes often do overcome a heroine's defenses, in real life those guys are just jerks. (In my opinion. Some women may love that kind of thing.)

So on the odd chance you're a man and reading my blog, I will explain to you the simplest way possible to attract women. It's called The Tao of Steve.

(Yes, from the movie. For a longer version, go watch the movie.)

The rules are as follows:

1. Be desireless.

2. Be excellent.

1. Be gone.

An explanation:

1. Be desireless: Nothing turns a woman off more than a guy making it obvious he wants to have sex with her. If you know each other, and you've had a flirtation going for a while, you could drop A HINT. But believe me when I say that playing it cool draws more female attention than following girls around like a hound dog. It may not get you laid, but at least you won't have smart, attractive women hiding in their rooms blogging about how much they dislike you.

2. Be excellent: OMG. So, so true! Nothing impresses me more than a man who's good at something. It almost doesn't matter what that thing is. You can dance well, or have interesting things to say about Greek plays or ancient Russian literature. You can tell me all you know about publishing, or introduce me to fun people. You can be an EXCELLENT conversationalist. Heck, I get off on IT nerds!

A man who can't think of anything whittier to say than, "Hey, nice tits" likely has an IQ almost as small as his penis.

3. Be gone: Be gone, be gone, be gone. For the love of Pete– if you're talking to me, I genuinely hope you have something better to do after. Some other friend you'd like to see, another event to attend. I'm not saying a guy should be an ass. If you're flirting with a girl and she seems interested, by all means– keep talking! But if you've just met, and the woman was kind enough to smile, say hello, allow you to do your little charm thing– have the fricking grace to back the hell off!

I had a guy hit on me while I was sitting at the expo for fuck's sake. I couldn't leave! And he just stood there and stood there staring at me and asking me questions. I almost had to ask him to go away. Ew! Creepy!

In closing, none of these behaviors would get a man between my legs because I'm married. But I don't think most of the guys coming on too strong expect to get laid. I think they just want to talk to a lady with blonde hair. They want me to smile and be nice and make them feel good about themselves. And that's fine. But men have to understand– even to get that much good graces from me, they need to get their act together.

Be desireless, be excellent, be gone. I promise you– it works every time!

Da Rulz

Writers like to talk about rules– what to follow, what to break– but in every discussion about romance people chafe. They don't want to follow "a formula" and hence argue that everything from point of view shifts to happily-ever-after is up for debate.

I'm here to tell you– if you write a love story that ends with the hero and heroine walking away from each other and is told largely from the point of view of the heroine's cat– it's NOT A ROMANCE NOVEL. It may be a perfectly good story, a great work of literature! However, romance novels REQUIRE a happily-ever-after ending. Without that, it's a like a car that doesn't move, or a TV that doesn't show pictures, or a pen that doesn't write. A pen that doesn't write is a stick.

If HEA is an immutable rule– then what else qualifies as rules worth adhering to? Three act structure? Yep, I'd say that's a given. How about that the heroine and hero must meet in the first chapter?

Well… they don't *have* to, but stories are supposed to begin at the start of the action. Since the action of a romance novel is the relationship, I'd say it's a safe bet that the hero and heroine should meet pretty early on.

That's the thing about guidelines worth following– when you analyze the reason for the rule, you start to see why it exists. In fact, a good rule is one you might find yourself following even though you weren't aware of it. For example, I learned only today that in romance novels, the first man a heroine meets should be the hero.

Sounds formulaic, doesn't it? But once I started thinking about this idea, I realized that I've done this in every story I've written. It just felt right. Thinking further, I recalled books that didn't follow this rule– where the heroine flirted with a waiter, or met another guy at the party, or ogled a UPS man before she met the hero. I realized I HATED that I couldn't figure out who the hero was. HATED. I didn't finish reading any of those books.

It's not that I like my books predictable (though maybe I do), it's that I like to know where the author is going with their story. Why does that waiter/partygoer/UPS guy show up? Will I ever see him again? Maybe he's the villain or a subplot hero, but by introducing him before the hero, the author pulls the reader's attention to a meaningless throwaway character. Or at the very least a character who matters less than the hero.

The best rules make inherent sense.

I recently wondered (aloud on Twitter) why my worlds become so complex. Specifically, I wondered why I often set out to create two opposing groups– like vampires/humans, mermaids/dragons– and a third group always finds its way in. I remember reading once that the best settings for paranormal romance included relatively straightforward, built-in conflict. For example: Psy-Changeling. You had the Psy. You have the Changelings. Simple!

So where was this third group coming from?

I asked around and learned that Robert McKee discussed this in his book, Story. Apparently, all well-drawn worlds require a force to offset the two opposing forces. So if your story is about Good vs. Evil, you need a third force– for example, Apathy. A conflict with only two opposing forces is two dimensional. The third force casts shadow, brings in nuance. (This can be found in the chapter titled The Principle of Antagonism.)

Apparently, this is a rule.

I can tell it's a good rule because it makes sense. Storytellers do it without even meaning to, because it feels right. In fact if I look at Psy-Changeling I realize that from the start Nalini Singh did have a third, opposing force: humans. (She also had dissonance within the Psy camp.)

My point is this: a lot of writing rules exist for good reason. They may have been honed by some lines or publishing houses to what feels like a formula at times, but a lot of the premises actually make good sense.

What about you? What was the last rule you learned and thought, "Well, that makes sense!" What's a rule you don't believe in? How do rules differ from formula?

Packing for Romance Times

Hey guys! It's another video blog. Come see what's in my wardrobe!

How to Know When You're Done Revising

Today– a video blog! Sorry the opening screen makes me look like I'm about to give someone head.

Poppers, Porn, and Random Thoughts About Gay Sex

I'm going to open by admitting that I've never done poppers. Neither am I gay, or even male. However, I'm writing a gay romance right now which is partially set in clubs, bars, and back alleys behind clubs and bars, so I've been doing some research.

Why? Well firstly, my knowledge of sex and drugs is about 15 years old. There was a time when I went out at night, and though I never made out with a stranger or went really deep into club culture, I did, for a while there, have a sense of what straight people did when they were feeling wild and more than a little self-destructive.

But gay men are a different breed. And I believe they're entitled to get as rowdy as their straight counterparts. So what do gay men do when they want to tramp it up?

(I write tramps a lot, so this is a valid question.)

What I've gathered from my research thus far is that, like straight people, young gay men drink a lot and sometimes smoke pot. Beyond that, like straight folks the more drugily inclined do meth, which wasn't really *a thing* when I was a kid. (Thank god in heaven above, because meth is really, really bad. Meth makes me glad that the burnouts I knew didn't have access.) I've also learned that people have stopped snorting ketamine.

Where gay partying and hook-ups most seem to differ from straight ones is the use of poppers.

I've been surprised to find in the past few days that a lot of my erotic romance writing pals don't know much about poppers. While not every gay man uses or has used them, I'd venture to guess that pretty much every gay man who lives in a metropolitan area knows people who use them. It's part of the landscape, if you will, along with leather bars, drag queens, and mid-day brunches.

So here's what a popper is:

It's a drug that comes in little bottles. People inhale the fumes to get high. The buzz only lasts a few minutes, and in addition to making a person loopy and flushed, it relaxes smooth muscle tissues making anal sex easier. I first heard about poppers on a trip to Fire Island back in 1994, but they've been a commonly used drug in the gay community since the early 1970s.

They're illegal, but not hard to find.

Now, I'm not here to say that drugs are right or wrong. I'm so morally relativistic I make morally relativistic folks look like the church lady. I'm talking about what IS. Not what SHOULD BE. Take from this what you like.

It seems that for casual or rushed sexual encounters where anal sex is involved, poppers get used a lot. And it kinda stands to reason. Anal sex requires a lot of preparation, not to mention lube. And if two guys want to go at it without a lot of foreplay (again, I'm not talking right or wrong, but you have TWO MEN here. I can imagine instances where both parties might want to skip the foreplay and get to business) I can understand the use of a drug which makes it less painful/easier to have sex.

There are, of course, downsides. A person on poppers may not notice injury as easily, or may do things he might normally not.

But this makes me wonder: if so few gay male romances mention this sexual aid, which is used all over the place in real life, what else are we glossing over?

In other words, are we expecting gay men to have sex like straight people?

I've been talking to a few gays recently and have gleaned a few things that are common practices among gay men:

1. Committed relationships where extra-curricular sexual activity other than anal sex is not considered cheating.

2. Use of online services and phone apps to "order in" sex with a stranger (or casual acquaintance.)

3. Porn, porn, porn. Guys like porn! If both men are gay, there really isn't a stigma on porn consumption within and outside the relationship.

4. Catch and release cruising, where men in committed relationships go out with the express purpose of flirting with strangers. And possibly even making out with them.

I know, I know, a gay couple CAN be totally monogamous in the heterosexual sense of the word. They don't have to watch porn, or ever use poppers, or troll online for internet sex or a casual blow job. But, is it right to expect a young gay couple to conform to heterosexual definitions of romance?

Since mostly women read romance, should the genre stick to the standard format? Or should the genre bend to incorporate more of the reality of the lives of our characters?

I dunno. I'm not sure yet what I think. I do believe that my party boy hero will end up monogamous and picket-fency relationship with my steadfast other hero. To some extent. But I don't want to make them straight.

The issue here is not to condemn gay men, or even slutty gay men. But if queer guys' lives involve such a broad range of experiences, people, and behaviors, why would we as writers want to ignore all that richness to shove gay romance into a straight package?

What do you think? Do you want gay romances to involve couples ending up committed in the M/F sense of the word? Or would you like to see more romances that tackle the nuances of what sex and love might be like given the differences inherent in love between two men?

Plotting the Great American Sex Comedy

I never set out to write funny. In fact, my first book, Mere Temptation, wasn't humorous at all. Well, ok…maybe in parts. But it wasn't a comedy, per se. Since then, each story I write seems to be getting funnier. So in my most recent story, I decided to go for broke and aim for full-on slapstick.

Now I'm plotting the sequel. So I have to make this one funny too. And I'm realizing something important– plotting a comedy is very different than plotting a straight romance. Sure, funny romances still need love, conflict, and a happily-ever-after. But they need more than just snappy one-liners and silly images like moneys wearing hats. Comedies have a different shape, a different feel, the weight falls in different places. Things that fade into the background of a normal romance take center stage.

Here are some things you may want to consider should you ever decide to write your romance or erotica as a comedy:

1. Know your societal groups.

Most comedies are social commentaries at heart. Stories of rich men or women thrust out of their cosseted existence to make good in the "real" world abound in the comedy genre. Similarly, social-climbing upstarts and wise-cracking slaves/homeless/poor play central roles in a lot of humor. Movies like 48 hours, Some Like it Hot, How to Marry a Millionaire, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum all feature social commentary and rich/poor power dynamics.

However, you don't need to have a rich/poor dichotomy to make humor work. Just define your "power" group. Whoever holds the power is the easiest to make fun of! It can by the military (Like in Stripes), people who run summer camps (like in Meatballs), dog shows, hair bands, elite chefs– anyone, so long as you turn that social group into a caricature, then lambast it mercilessly.

And here follows the corollary for why romance and comedy plots are very different: romance is all about the powerful alpha male, comedy is all about poking fun at people in power. That doesn't mean one can't write an alpha male in a romantic comedy– but know that you're going to have to tear him down before you can build him back up. (Think Dan Akroyd in 48 Hours.)

2. Comedy is unexpected.

In the movie Stripes, if Bill Murray had joined the army and subsequently learned the meaning of discipline…it would not have been a comedy! It's not funny if things go the way they are supposed to.

So…if a city girl gets stranded in Colorado, hooks up with a handsome yet rugged cowboy and learns the joys of rough and ready country livin' and lovin'…it's a romance. It might have funny lines, or be wry at times. But it's not really a comedic plot.

If a city girl goes to Colorado in order to learn the joys of country livin' and lovin', but finds everyone she meets is a hick, and the only person she gets along with is a New Yorker who's come to town for the same reason she did…well, that might just be a comedy.

Similarly– a BDSM story where a sub is a high-powered corporate woman in RL is not a comedy. Largely, because from what little I understand about the BDSM world, that's a pretty common scenario.

But a story about a high-powered exec who always dreamed about BDSM and upon the death of her stick-in-the-mud husband decided to immerse herself in the BDSM lifestyle only to find it didn't live up to her expectations and she falls for the vanilla coat-check guy at the club could be funny. Hey, I should write that!

Romance can sometimes be a bit cookie-cutter. And that's in no way a criticism. I like the cookies! But the thing is– you can't cut the cookies in a romancy way and be writing a comedy, because humor arises from the unexpected.

3. It's funny 'cuz it's true.

Comedy is honest. Sometimes brutally, sometimes gently, but the things most likely to get a laugh are those uncomfortable truths no one wants to admit. Cutting humor, biting wit, a sharp tongue– funny slices through peoples' defenses. It makes people admit stuff they never wanted to because they're laughing all the while.

Romance and erotica are honest in their own ways. They address fantasy and desire. They weave stories out of hopes and wishes and half-admitted dreams. But erotica and romance contain pruderies and preconceptions and sacred cows just like any other societal institution.

And if you're going to write funny, you need look those institutions square in the eyes. You need to define your categories, and not allow yourself the luxury of not questioning the tropes. Because it's those inconsistencies, those tiny white lies, those sacred cows no one wants to touch that are the most ripe for the roasting.

So if you're a comedy writer, hitch on your wicked grin and sharpen your spear. We're goin' huntin'!

Six Sentence Sunday: X-Rated Shark Bait Excerpt

X-Rated! Turn back now if you're under 18 or a blood relation of mine!!

*****

He nodded, eyes still on the glistening head poised before his lips. The merman leaned forward, widening David's mouth with his tip. Nereus's hand fell into his hair, pet his face, lifted his glasses from his nose and ears. Then the merman's hand grasped a handful of David's hair.

Oh damn, David loved this part. He moaned in abandon as Nereus slowly fed his cock down David's throat.