Roxanne Bland's Blog, page 5
April 20, 2013
And The Reviews Are Coming In
The Underground is getting some good reviews. Not without their criticisms--some of which I agree with--but good, nonetheless. Bookreview.com called it "A fookin' good book," which is my alien's way of pronouncing the f-bomb. Kirkus Reviews called it "sexy, twisted," and "A diverting urban fantasy." They also said it was too much like "True Blood" and Charlaine Harris's books. Having never seen "True Blood," and having read just one of Charlaine Harris's books, I don't think I'm in a position to argue.
My Goodreads ratings have been all over the place, from 5 stars (3) down to 1 star (1). I wish the negative raters had written a text review. I'd have liked to know what they didn't like about The Underground. I mean, was it the sex? The violence? Or the story itself? Guess I'll never know.
Meanwhile, I'm conducting another giveaway. It's open to the US, CA, GB, FR, DE and AU. So if any of you are from any of those places, go ahead--enter to win!
My Goodreads ratings have been all over the place, from 5 stars (3) down to 1 star (1). I wish the negative raters had written a text review. I'd have liked to know what they didn't like about The Underground. I mean, was it the sex? The violence? Or the story itself? Guess I'll never know.
Meanwhile, I'm conducting another giveaway. It's open to the US, CA, GB, FR, DE and AU. So if any of you are from any of those places, go ahead--enter to win!
February 14, 2013
My World and Welcome To It
I'm sometimes asked how I came up with the world that I built for The Underground. In a word--bigotry.
One afternoon, I was stuck in traffic and started to think about the people who pass for what they are not--black for white, gay for straight and so on--in order to escape the discrimination, condemnation, humiliation and even death at the hands of mainstream society. What necessary lies must they tell, what subterfuges must they engage to keep others from finding out the truth? And then I thought about paranormals and aliens, who are probably the ultimate passers, unlike the others who are unmistakably human, they are passing for human.
So that's my world. That's why you won't find werewolves and other werecreatures running rampant around the city. That's why you won't find vampires draining one human for a meal. That's why the witches disguise and cast spells over their Temples to avoid prying human eyes. That's why elves are not constantly wielding their glamour, clouding human minds to make illusion and reality indistinguishable. The paranormals cannot afford to bring attention to themselves, lest they touch off a pogrom, the killing spree the human horde sometimes undertakes to "wipe out" the paranormals in their midst.
I'll tell you more about my world in the next installment.
One afternoon, I was stuck in traffic and started to think about the people who pass for what they are not--black for white, gay for straight and so on--in order to escape the discrimination, condemnation, humiliation and even death at the hands of mainstream society. What necessary lies must they tell, what subterfuges must they engage to keep others from finding out the truth? And then I thought about paranormals and aliens, who are probably the ultimate passers, unlike the others who are unmistakably human, they are passing for human.
So that's my world. That's why you won't find werewolves and other werecreatures running rampant around the city. That's why you won't find vampires draining one human for a meal. That's why the witches disguise and cast spells over their Temples to avoid prying human eyes. That's why elves are not constantly wielding their glamour, clouding human minds to make illusion and reality indistinguishable. The paranormals cannot afford to bring attention to themselves, lest they touch off a pogrom, the killing spree the human horde sometimes undertakes to "wipe out" the paranormals in their midst.
I'll tell you more about my world in the next installment.
February 7, 2013
Still a Fugitive
Well, I’m starting this blog, so I suppose I should tell you a little about myself.
I’ve been a fugitive from reality since forever. As a kid, I constantly made up stories—some would call them lies—about my family, friends, neighbors and even strangers on the street. I had friends that only I could see (oh, the adventures we had!). You know, just a little kid having fun.
Learning to read was a revelation. Whole new worlds opened up for me. Since my parents forbade nothing, I read everything. Some of it I didn’t quite understand, but that was okay with me. I read it anyway. I even read the dictionary. When I was a little older, I was big on Agatha Christie. Then I graduated to horror—you guessed it—Stephen King. Couldn’t get enough of it! I was reading a little science fiction at this time—Ray Bradbury and works like that—but I really didn’t get into it until I was in college. And that led to fantasy, a la Lord of the Rings, and so on.
All during this time, I was making up stories, but I wasn’t writing them down. They were private. Besides, I thought my family and friends would laugh at me. The only story I recall writing was one that won a contest when I was in elementary school.
So anyway, life goes on. I went to law school. After I graduated and entered the workforce, I started writing down my stories. Nothing spectacular. I wrote a bit here and there, short stories that never saw the light of day (which was probably a good thing). Then I fell ill. I had the flu for a month. Bored out of my skull, I started writing a piece of fan fiction (didn’t know what it was back then). I showed it to a friend of mine who suggested I finish the story.
Well, that piece of fanfic fell by the wayside, but in its place came a manuscript that would eventually become The Underground. I absolutely adored writing it. I absolutely adore writing, period. Slipping into that alternate reality for hours at a time; there was a time in my life when it was called daydreaming, and I got in trouble for it. Now it’s legitimate. Like when I was a kid, I can hide from reality to my heart’s content.
And that’s the best part of all.
P.S. If you wish, you might want to check out my blog, Of Werewolves And Other Strangers, http://roxannebland.com, and my publisher's website, http://www.blackrosepress.com. You can read the first three chapters of The Underground if you're so inclined.
I’ve been a fugitive from reality since forever. As a kid, I constantly made up stories—some would call them lies—about my family, friends, neighbors and even strangers on the street. I had friends that only I could see (oh, the adventures we had!). You know, just a little kid having fun.
Learning to read was a revelation. Whole new worlds opened up for me. Since my parents forbade nothing, I read everything. Some of it I didn’t quite understand, but that was okay with me. I read it anyway. I even read the dictionary. When I was a little older, I was big on Agatha Christie. Then I graduated to horror—you guessed it—Stephen King. Couldn’t get enough of it! I was reading a little science fiction at this time—Ray Bradbury and works like that—but I really didn’t get into it until I was in college. And that led to fantasy, a la Lord of the Rings, and so on.
All during this time, I was making up stories, but I wasn’t writing them down. They were private. Besides, I thought my family and friends would laugh at me. The only story I recall writing was one that won a contest when I was in elementary school.
So anyway, life goes on. I went to law school. After I graduated and entered the workforce, I started writing down my stories. Nothing spectacular. I wrote a bit here and there, short stories that never saw the light of day (which was probably a good thing). Then I fell ill. I had the flu for a month. Bored out of my skull, I started writing a piece of fan fiction (didn’t know what it was back then). I showed it to a friend of mine who suggested I finish the story.
Well, that piece of fanfic fell by the wayside, but in its place came a manuscript that would eventually become The Underground. I absolutely adored writing it. I absolutely adore writing, period. Slipping into that alternate reality for hours at a time; there was a time in my life when it was called daydreaming, and I got in trouble for it. Now it’s legitimate. Like when I was a kid, I can hide from reality to my heart’s content.
And that’s the best part of all.
P.S. If you wish, you might want to check out my blog, Of Werewolves And Other Strangers, http://roxannebland.com, and my publisher's website, http://www.blackrosepress.com. You can read the first three chapters of The Underground if you're so inclined.
