Sable Jordan's Blog, page 5

ePLOTica?

"The difference between pornography and erotica is lighting."
~Gloria Leonard
I follow different blogs because, let's face it, there are people out there doing what I'm doing and doing it well.  On some of the romance blogs, people comment about how they often skip books tagged "erotica" because they're just about sex. Not true.  But it's not entirely their fault for feeling that way.
Depending on which site you go to for a definition, erotica is pornography.  The good people at thesaurus.com think so, and one of the synonyms for erotica there is "dirt".  They even underline it and put a star by it to make it stand out (although it's meant to indicate it's slang, but still, it's on the net so of course it's true, right?)  But dirt? Really? Unless your leads are gettin' busy in the garden or are  suffering a post-danger adrenaline rush after they've just had a near-death experience haulin' ass through the Florida mud pits and decide now's a good time to screw even though the killers are still tracking them, dirt kinda shouldn't be in the picture. Where was I...? Gardens...mud pits...killers...Oh, right.
Now, a search for a more refined definition calls erotica sex as art. (Paraphrasing) Doesn't that sound more high-brow? Sex as art. Sa-weet!  But some people won't take  the time to find the art and lump together all works of this sort, dismissing an entire sub-genre. Oddly enough, it's a genre that seems to be overtaking the eBook medium.  So what's the difference between erotica and porn? What sifts art from dirt?  Where's the "lighting" in books?  *shifts eyes left then right* It's a secret, but I'll whisper it if you come closer...closer...little closer...TSA close, people...*cups your ear*
PLOT.
Now remember that's a secret.  Don't tell anyone I told y—huh? This is on the web for everyone to see? Oh.  Well, secret's out of the bag I guess. ;) Plot separates literary porn from erotica.  It's not the exotic characters, it's not the extravagant setting, it's not extreme subject matter.  It's  plot, well-written plot.  Of course that's just my opinion, but this is my damn blog and I can say whatever the hell I want. Sky's not blue, it's orange, dammit!


I read a lot of erotica.  Research, I swear.  What separates the gems from the half-glossed stones are stories with a point.  That's not to say there has to be multiple storylines going on, but there has to be a reason I'm reading.  


Erotica is meant to be, well, erotic.  It's supposed to arouse, but in order to do that you can't just go around inserting Tab A into Slot B all willy-nilly and expect explosions.  You can't even insert Tab A into Slots B, C and D, go back to B and then finish off in or on E and call it good erotica. Chances are, after doing all that, you still might not get a spark.  It has to be more than making the connection(s); there has to be a plan for making those connections.  That's all plot is, a plan.  You're at point A, you need to get to point B, how're ya gonna make it happen?


As an erotica writer, traversing that path can be difficult to resolve book in and book out.  And a lot of authors find that after writing in the genre for a while, each story becomes harder and harder to INK, so by book 5 they either hint at the sex or abandon it altogether.  When we sit down to our laptops we have to ask ourselves "How do I get my leads from Hello to the Big O in a new and exciting way...that doesn't defy the laws of physics?"  ('Cause if we could defy the laws of physics, it would be a hellva lot easier.)  I once had my characters on the floor, completely naked and rarin' to go, and after ten minutes of inaction screamed at my screen "Commence with the fornicating already!" (I'm not lying, I actually did this).  I figured, birthday suits and same location, they'll work it out. NOT. The problem?  No plan. 


Which brings us back to the blog title, ePLOTica, Sable-speak for stories of erotica that have a plan. (ePLANica doesn't have quite the same ring). Do we need a new sub-genre to help the reader weed out those stories without "lighting"?  I don't know. I'm not sure how we get consumers who are reluctant to delve into the erotica genre to give us a chance, and it's kind of a pity they don't because there are some really good erotic stories with sexual content that is very well-written. Don't believe me, just read my book. *All the talk of Tabs and Slots, I had to throw in a plug :)*


Do I think ePLOTica as a tag will catch on? Will Webster add it to the dictionary? I don't know, but if O.M.G. can get in, maybe I've got a shot.  All that to say this, if you haven't checked out erotica because you're the "read Playboy for the articles" type, do some research and give it a chance.  Might be surprised at what you find.  And then do the author a favor and tag the book on amazon with "ePLOTica" for shits and gigs.  Maybe it'll catch on.  Like Zoe Winters would say "we're starting a revolution, bitches."


Got something to add? Drop me some INK.


* * * *

After writing this a friend found out there was something called "eroplotica", which is basically what I just yammered on about above.  I like my word better, 'cause I thought of it and 'cause eroplotica is a huge mouthful...there's a pun in there somewhere, I'm sure.  Keep licking the ink!

#SampleSunday to #LickMyInk

It's that time again! Sample Sunday! *Insert cheering crowd*
But first, an update. I've been a little lax with blogging only because there are some MAJOR things in the works... well, major for me. :) And I'm juggling five outlines and an edit while INKing a couple shorts for anthologies. This girl is tired. So the blog had to take a mini break.  
But I'm back, so let's move along to what you're here for, another LICK of MY INK!
This yummy taste comes from the current release, DIFFERENT SHADES OF GRAY, which is $3.99 right now! Woo Hoo!  And you can LICK 5 Chapters for free here.  


     Scott raised an inquisitive eyebrow and grinned, leaning against the machine and into my personal space. "I think your gray eyes are turning green, Charlie. Jealousy is sexy on you. But anything is sexy on you."      "That's Doctor Charlie to you, bub," I said, hitting him playfully on the arm. "And whatever you and Nancy do in your bedroom is your own business. Although her recounts of the encounter were quite descriptive."      "Well, Doctor Charlie, you don‟t have to get the info second-hand if you want to know about my bedroom expertise. I‟m more than willing to give you a first-hand account," he said silkily, staring me straight in the eyes.      "Did you miss sexual harassment training?"      "Both times."      I shook my head and chuckled. "You‟re impossible."      "Scott!" a voice shrieked across the empty cafeteria. "They told me you were here. Why haven‟t you called me back?" Nancy asked, making a beeline across the room toward us.      Scott‟s face dropped as he saw the woman approach.      "I take it she doesn‟t know the affair is over?" I murmured.      "Come on, Charlie. Dinner," he pleaded quickly, risking life and limb and an angry Nancy to get this date.      "Sorry sweetie, I love you too much as a friend to ruin that. Now get out of here before Nancy rips you a new one," I teased. "Proctology is not a specialty I want to go into, although you do have a cute butt."      Scott smiled crookedly, hugged me briefly, and ran out like his cute ass was on fire. 

That's all for now, but what are you waiting for? Go forth and LICK MORE INK!
Free readBuy it Now!

Just For Laughs

CreditJust thought I'd share some of my randomness with you. As it happens, even when I'm writing an e-mail to my sis, I find a way to do so with flair!
The sitch: I hadn't talked to my sister in a long time.  So what better way to get her to e-mail me than with threats of an alien abduction. (note: Tori's refers to a pair of kick ass Tori Burch boots she bought. It'll make sense in a minute.) Observe.

Hello dearest,  It has become disturbingly apparent that you've been abducted by aliens. Don't panic. I'm banking on them not knowing what a cell phone does and thus ignoring your huddled form in the corner of the spacecraft reading this message. You're probably just now passing a nebula, totally normal. Don't panic.  See the being that looks a little like Mr. Potato Head? That's Hujhfuejls --the  J is silent-- he prefers if you say it with a touch of a british accent and as  though announcing the arrival of a king. Makes him feel important. At any rate,  he's the one with the cookies. They'll be in his right pocket. That's also  where he keeps his slime.   Do NOT eat the slime.   You should also know that their concept of right and left is reversed and also  not on a horizontal plane. So yes, you want the "hand" (those tentacle-y things  are hands. They'll be offended if you call it anything else) the "hand" at the  top of its...head, for lack of a better term. They're not offended by not  calling it a head, but I'd suggest doing it anyway.   Back to the cookies.  

 The topmost hand on his head, the one submerged in his pocket that looks like a  mouth. That's what you're looking for. It has the cookies. Don't forget about  the slime.   Do NOT eat the slime.   The cookies are perfectly safe.   *Sidebar* Are you wearing the Tori's? Hujhf's "girlfriend" LOVES Tori's. I think  her, umm, feet might be your size. Don't panic. Best to take them off and give  them to her. She has a fondness for human feet. The humans they're attached to,  not so much. Anyhow, where were we. Right. Cookies.  Do NOT eat the cookies.  Why aren't you panicking? You should be panicking!!!!  PANIC!!!!!  I suspect you'll be gone a couple more days, but a brief transmission indicating  you are okay will suffice. Provided, of course, that you have not eaten the  cookies. Or the slime for that matter. And that you gave up the shoes and did  not panic.  Tell Hujhf I said "Markensplank!" (just a fancy way of saying hello; the aliens  are a pretentious lot) and, if you want to make it back in one piece, do NOT  challenge him to Wii bowling. When he loses, he'll offer you cookies. They're  safe, without the slime. Do NOT eat the slime...or the cookies.   Now's a good time to panic.   Signed, Insanity's cousin, twice removed. 

The reply to this was instant and short:  You're not well, and HELL NO the alien can't have my shoes!!!
At least I know she's all right, and the Tori's are safe. The lesson: Threats of aliens separating her from her feet won't part a woman from a pair of killer shoes.
Sable

     

#SampleSunday lets you #LickMyInk

I'm posting a lick here, but if you know like I know, you can lick the first 78 pgs of my book for FREE! 
Today's Lick is from the recently released Different Shades of Gray:

   I mean, sure it's a God-given talent to slide from the top of a pole and drop into the splits on the floor and still manage to have all your lady bits intact, but did I really need to see that?       So anyhow, there I stood, awaiting the arrival of my jet-setting model sister so she could have her chance to be one of the twenty ladies chosen to fight, bitch, spit, scream, and scratch out their displays of affection for a total stranger—on national television.      Love. Ain't it grand?

That's all I'm allowed to post for now, but like I said, you can buy it now on your favorite eReader, or Lick more Ink for free: 

Are you "Social" or just "Networking"?

"Now, if I'm Bobby —can't even act like I forgot your name 'cause I didn't know it in the first place—I'm tryin' to nut and get up." ~ Deuce
The above quote is from a character in a book I wrote called Devil's Flame , (not out yet, but definitely coming soon).  And while the context this was written in had to do with an argument over edits, I think it's fitting for my topic today: Social Networking. 
The last thing people want is for someone to tell them what to do, unless you're a submissive, in which case it's an entirely opposite bowl of cranberries. But I have to say, if you're in any way, shape, or form utilizing social networking as a means to push a product or service then for the love of all things yellow remember the SOCIAL part!
What do I mean? Take FaceBook, for instance. You send out your friend requests, get a thousand or so people to "like" you or your page, and then you post once every blue moon about what you're selling. To which I say an emphatic "Pfffftttt!" It bugs me no end to get unsolicited posts directly on my page or direct messages that read BUY MY WHODAWHATSIT!  Seriously? That's just networking (and not even good networking), casting a line and hoping to get a few chance nibbles on the bait.
I know what you're thinking: "But Sable, I'd never do that." Well then this isn't directed toward you, but keep reading anyway 'cause Licking My Ink is yummy! 
Like everybody hocking a book nowadays, I have my FB page, my website, my blog, and my twitter feed among other presences on the net.  And, yeah, I post about my book, but I spend more time on FB interacting with my "friends" than ramming home that I've got goods for sale. What my marketing people do is out of my control (grin). But as it turns out, when people get to know you and like you, they're more willing to look at what you've done.  I know...who'da thunk it?
Not long ago I spent an hour talking to a new author friend about random things; sharing tips about writing, other hobbies, how gas was cheaper when we were younger… we messaged each other back and forth. Not once did I say, "go buy my book."  The last message I got from her that night was, "I just downloaded your book. Can't wait to read it!"  Well color me surprised! 
I know, we all have lives and don't always have the time to talk to each person one-on-one, and this might have been a one-time occurrence, but I think it solidifies my point that taking the time to cultivate relationships that last long after your first release is as important as selling a ton of copies of your first book on the first day.  Further, those people are then willing to post about your goods on their wall, or retweet your updates, which exposes you to a set of friends you might not have immediate access to.
Which brings me back to my buddy Deuce's comment.  Take the time to learn about your readers, just as they are taking the time to learn about you.  There are a million and eight writers now, don't be the one who swings by a page to "nut and get up", most especially if it's unsolicited. (In general, unsolicited nutting is frowned upon in polite society).  I plan to do this writing thing for a long time because it's buckets of fun!  And yes I want to make money at it, but to do that I understand I need a following.  People who are fans not just because someone asked them to LIKE my page, but because they actually read the ink and decided what I make up is whet enough to come back to and keep licking. People who want to be notified when I've got a new release out and who ask their friends "have you read any Sable Jordan?"
So, again, whether you're a twitterhead, facebook fiend, myspace maven, or whatever, remember to take the time to be social. 

That's my two cents, refunds accepted.Tell me, what are your thoughts about social networking?
 *Dying to read more about that quote? Read an excerpt of Devil's Flame on my website*

Come on and #LickMyInk...

Pulled From Found Shit But just one lick. (Don't you just LOVE the pic? Hotness!)Anyhow, here's a taste of a novelette I recently completed. My site lists it as "Ink Drying", which in Sable-speak means it's in edits, so no excerpt yet. But I've gotten a number of inquiries about it so to all those wondering, it'll be bumped up to "Fresh Whet Ink" soon.  Might even release it this summer. Hmmm....  
Without further ado, I present to you a taste from my latest THE DOXY'S DAYBOOK:

"These people don't know what you are, but I do." I take a deep breath.  "And what am I, Maria?""You. Are. A. Whore." She snips off each word, emphasizes the last."That's where you're wrong.  See, a whore doesn't warrant a second thought.  A whore is a fast fuck in an empty closet or off to the end of the subway platform, tucked out of sight; just a passing fancy, an end to satisfy an immediate human urge.  Whores are…base.  "Now a doxy like me," I lean forward, voice still low, "I'm that random smile on your husband's face in the middle of the day, Maria.  I'm the pep in his step in the morning while you dawdle over the banality of which bag will match which shoes; what you and the girls will eat for lunch over at Lupa's in the Village. And when he finally pushes through the door after working late yet again, I'm the only reason he can stomach coming home to you at night."

I'm so tempted to post more! I loved this story, can't wait to share it with you. Till then pass this Lick to friends.
Sable

It's My Book's Birthday!!!

SANG it, Nina!  
That's right, today Different Shades of Gray is officially available for purchase! *dougies*  And like Nina says, I'm Feelin' GOOOOD!

This week was utter madness.  Best laid plans were tested, hair was pulled out.  A positively horrible time to give up candy and soda (for Lent) and I think my Muse went on strike.  She loves her candy (Yes, I'm blaming her completely).  As a result I haven't written anything, which tends to stress me out.  Got a lot of stories to tell.

But, believe me I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's a small matter.

It took a really long time for this day to come, and now that it's here I'm in "enough" mode, as in, did I reach enough people? Did I tweet enough? Did I post a kajillion times on FB to let everybody know that the book is out?   Truth is, probably not. There's always more you can do, and I'm a newbie in this game.  The past month I've been slowly compiling info from those who have done it (well) before me.  But getting over the hump of the first one is what's important, 'cause now I have something to market for the rest of my life.  So chances are good you'll see a tweet or a post to go buy the book. And if you did already, thanks.  Tell a friend to Lick my Ink :)

I mentioned in yesterday's post about the CONTEST where you can get a free copy of the book.  Click on the link to find out how.

A SUPER HUGE thanks to everyone over at eXcessica for all of their hard work and for publishing my first one. If you haven't checked us out lately, go see what's new. Plenty of books Amazon banned. (Oooh, banned books!)  And to all my family and friends who have supported me in this endeavor, couldn't have done it without you.  And, last but not least, to everyone who's licked my ink! Hope you enjoy it :)

Off to celebrate and work on an outline!

Sable J

Pre-Party Thursday 13

"I never drink water; that is the stuff that rusts pipes. What contemptible scoundrel has stolen the cork to my lunch?"
 ~W.C. Fields

Maybe you've heard, tomorrow's my release day. Yep, I said it, the year-long wait is finally nearing it's end. And isn't it most fortuitous that the day before my book drops is Saint Patty's Day?  Which means I get to party  two day's in a row. SCORE!
I'll be drinking today as a sign of solidarity with lushes around the world. That's a given.  It won't be beer (I know, that's sacrilege)  but bet your ass I plan to be flat on mine. Hey, if you're going to do something, do it right. 
So for my (first) Thursday 13, I thought I'd let you know exactly how I'll be celebrating tomorrow's book release. (These aren't necessarily in order, or out of order for that matter).
Happy dance — sort of a funky chicken/dougie combo that has to be seen to be believed, but don't hold your breath, I won't be taping itBig glass of Moscato Cake — only because I gave up candy for Lent. When Easter comes, expect a post about 13 confections I plan to eat before the sun sets Contest — Yes, I'm having a contest, and if you click this link or just go to the contest page, you'll know how to enter. Jumping on the bed — this isn't really related to the celebration, more of a daily thing I do just for the heck of it. I've got high ceilings and I'm determined to touch them.Bugging all of my friends and family to post about my release on Facebook and Twitter.  Big glass of Moscato — wait, did I say that already?Starting an outline for Different Shades of Gray 2 — oh yeah, it's not over, there's still another story to tellHanging out with my Facebook friends — Yep, they've gone and grown on me. People from around the world who I didn't know before but who are super cool, and we actually *gasp* talkShopping — every major milestone in a woman's life is marked by some form of retail therapy. I've been told if I don't partake in my God-given right to shop, I'll have my womanhood membership revoked. I can't risk it...Massage — When I'm not moonlighting as an author, I'm a massage therapist. Which means a lot of rubbin' on other folks (ease away from the gutter) and not a whole lot of bodywork for me. I earned it.Big glass of Moscato — Can't believe I almost forgot to mention that!Sending out thank you notes/tweets/status updates/emails to everyone who's been involved with this process and to everyone who buys a copy of my book.
See, I've got a long day ahead of me.  Don't forget to go to my Contest page to find out  how you can get entered for a chance to win a copy of Different Shades of Gray.  And as always, 
Thanks for Licking my INK

My new site!

LICK MY INK
Well, I'm unpacked and moved in just in time for the book release on the 18th. I like this place. It's got that New House smell. A little more ease of access than the last site.  So look around.  On the Books page are excerpts to 5 of my completed works and 5 premises to the INK that's still WHET.  And the BUY links for Different Shades of Gray will go live in a couple weeks.  It's about to get hectic around here :)

Do me a favor, see those buttons on the bottom of this post, yeah, those ones, click on 'em to share this with a friend.  'Preciate it.

Let me know what you think! And as always, thanks for LICKing my INK :)

Trying to Kill the Beast

© Scenic Reflections "Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public." – Winston Churchill
     Back in January I was in "Let's go!" mode.  New year, new goals—ready and willing to knock out some of the many plotlines that have been brewing in my brain awhile.  I'm coming out of my dungeon (closet-office) early one morning after another unsuccessful night of trying to tackle the beast of a story I started almost 3 years ago.  It's crystal clear in my head, and it should just flow onto the pages like water over a fall.  Instead, it's moving in a manner more akin to sucking tar through a skinny straw.  I've got the bulging forehead vein to prove it.     Anyhow, out of my dungeon and into the flames with "the Mister" who takes one look at me and says, "Don't you look crappy."     Well, nobody wants their (arguable) better half telling them that, no matter how spot on it is at 4 A.M. and she's just realized that what she's been writing doesn't seem to make much sense anymore. I grumbled something back so incoherent I don't even remember what it was, but I'm sure it suitably conveyed my immense love for him at that particular time.  Even had a special hand gesture to accompany it.     After a couple hours of sleep I felt ready to take on the beast again.  Into the batcave I go.  And again, at some ungodly hour I emerged defeated, only to find him frowning at me.      "What?" Yes, I barked it.     "That face."     So I turn to the mirror to see what "face" I'm making.     "What's wrong with my face?"  As it happens I've grown rather attached to my face and I like it just fine, thank you very much.     "Nothing.  That murderous grimace is hot."     "I've been trying to kill someone, so I guess the 'face' isn't working."     The slight shift away from me did not go unnoticed.  "So, what's the matter?"     What's the matter? What isn't the matter? This was a good five minutes of me ranting about the struggles of a...er...struggling writer, and him interjecting "uh huh" far too calmly to have actually been listening.  To save you the ramble it ended with my declaration of, "It's starting to piss me off!"  What can I say? I don't like to be pissed off.     "Damn,"—another shift away— "But I thought you loved writing."     "I do!" See, proof he wasn't listening.  I knew it. File it away, Sable; argue it later.     "So, if it makes you feel that bad, what are you doing it for?"      Well played, Mister reverse-psychology on the sleep-deprived girlfriend in a creative funk. Well played.
      According to Churchill, this particular writing adventure of mine is hovering in the ether between "master" and "tyrant".  And it's driving me crazy because I'm a free spirit that doesn't tolerate well the roles of either.  But that encounter with my unlicensed shrink back in January had me reevaluating some things.  Why am I doing this; willingly subscribing to this particular brand of insanity? I've got a few reasons.      For starters, it's great to be the puppet-master, isn't it?  Even though it's frustrating when the strings knot or break altogether and you've got to start again, it's a lot of fun to drop your characters someplace, toss in a bomb and seeing if they make it out before everything goes Kablooey! *Bwahahahahaha*     Next, there's the matter of writing my favorite words: The End. It's satisfying, right? To know you worked through the kinks and overthrew the tyrannical establishment that your words had become. "Rage! Rage against the dying of the light!"  And then with a mighty heave you fling it across the Web to the public, which begins a different sort of servitude with the marketing and promoting but that's a blog for another day.      My finally reason is the unmatched zing of anticipation that courses through my veins when I start the process all over again and type Chapter 1.  I know I'm about to go back into the belly of the beast and I think I've got it figured out this time.  I've jotted down notes, I've got an outline, I'm all set to play with my new toy.  I can only hope that I'm better prepared for the monster it will turn into.      Since that day in January I've inked roughly five new pages of the story that is the impetus for this post. (I didn't write much in February, but again, another issue).  I'm way beyond the toy stage and far away from killing the monster. I'm hovering.  But I remembered why I started doing this in the first place, and that's taken some of the stress out of it (and the "murderous grimace"). One of these days I'll have this creature vanquished. 4a.m. will roll around and, hands raised high, I'll scream, "I emerge VICTORIOUS!" loud enough to wake the Mister. J  A few days'll pass and I'll go back into the cave.  I'll sit down to a blank page and write Chapter 1, and the madness will begin again.  
Let's go.

So, I want to know, what are you doing it for?