Anna Butler's Blog, page 34
September 29, 2015
Links To Blog Posts on Writing – September 2015
Am smug and organised this month. Very smug. Not so much organised. But still, the list of stuff wot I have read this month that’s interesting to writers.
Word of the month: Gesichtpunkt – German, meaning the way your face is pointed, the way you’re looking. A lovely word describing the point of view in narrative.
Writing
Who owns your digital afterlife? An interesting news article that suggests that writers, no matter how lowly, need literary executors.
Seb Doubinsky: Five Things I Learned Writing Song Of Synth
Story Glue – Anna Elliot at Writer Unboxed on what makes her stick with a book when she starts reading.
Ten Ways Writers Sabotage Themselves and Their Work – Lynn Viehl at Paperback Writer. Short, pithy and yes, she’s right.
‘Will I be burnt next?’ – Into the River author Ted Dawe on book banning – his book has just been banned in New Zealand, of all places. In an attempt not to offend anyone, lets just say there are places in the world where hearing of book banning would not surprise me. But New Zealand?! That’s worrying.
Dear Self-Published Author: Do NOT Write Four Books a Year – a Huffington Post piece by Lorraine Devon Wilke. She does have a point about quality and quantity, no matter what the publishing vehicle, but this has to be satire…
Author Defends Sci-Fi as A “Purely Male Domain” in Cringingly Sexist Review of All-Women Anthology – this infuriated me so much I went out and bought the anthology. I haven’t read it yet, but dammit, let’s stick a finger up at the Neanderthal. LOTS of comments both here and at the Passive Voice, which picked up on it.
Kurt Vonnegut’s 8 rules for writing with style – what it says on the tin.
Is Perfectionism Killing Your Writing Career? – Kirsten Lamb’s take on what seems to have been a recent hot topic with writerly types.
Stories About Stories: Experimenting With Form, Content, Audience – An interesting guest blog at Chuck Wendig’s gaff from Lucas J W Johnson, who wrote his book on Twitter.
The Chuck Wendig section
On the subject of your discouragement – a follow up to the post aimed at rookie writers, mentioned in last month’s roundup. In which Chuck appears taken aback by the realisation that he has influence over writers, and concludes: “You can do this. No matter what I say. You won’t do it perfectly. But you can always make it right. So go write. And rewrite. And write again.”
Social Media For Writers Is A Misunderstood Opportunity – A counterpoint to Alvear’s piece on why Facebook can’t help you sell books (see below in the Marketing section). Well, not so much because Chuck agrees you won’t sell thousands of copies, but you will make connexions and even, he says, friends. Worth it.
Dear Writers And Creative-Types: You Don’t Need Motivation – oh boy, does this speak to me. Day Four of a week where I’ve written nothing, except get this post ready. Time to print out Chuck’s mantra: I write! I fail! I write again!
Dear Any-Kind-Of-Published Author: Write As Much As You Want – An endearing Chuck rant against advice not to publish four books a year (see above) or Stephen King’s latest oddly ironic article about being too prolific.
Peaks And Valleys: The Financial Realities Of The Writer’s Life – There have been lots of articles recently about how little authors get paid and how very, very few of them can make a living out of writing. Chuck with some hard advice on making it on your writing alone.
Pointing The Cannons At Canon – relevant, certainly, to those writing fanfic or tie ins. And amusing, as always.
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Writing Tips and Skills
14 Points To Consider Before You Write The Ending – Mia Botha at Writer’s Write.
Ten Poses To Show Character Development Through Body Language – Mia Botha again, referencing an interesting TED talk on body language. Links in the text.
Harvard linguist points out the 58 most commonly misused words and phrases – I’m putting this in this section because I do see grammar etc as a basic writerly skill that really has got to be your toolbox. My personal bugbear: the increasing number of people who don’t know the difference between ‘bring’ and ‘take’. So bloody annoying.
9 Ways to Improve Your Dialogue – from Kirsten Lamb. Mostly technical stuff about tags and punctuation.
4 lessons in Storytelling by a scriptwriter – Filmmaker and D&D devotee Matthew Robinson talks about what screenwriting and the fantasy roleplaying game have in common.
The Math and Music of Multiple Characters – Dave King at Writer Unboxed on creating your cast list and making them real people, not props.
Point of View in Writing – Joe Bunting at The Write Practice, with an article that manages to cover a lot in a short space. I’ve used all the different POVs, although I’ve only used second-person in fanfiction. I liked it. It both more engaging and more intimate.
How to Write a Sequel That’s BETTER Than the First Book – KM Weiland with some good advice.
8 Paragraph Mistakes You Don’t Know You’re Making – more advice from Weiland. I am mostly innocent of these, but maybe do bury dialogue too far in paras with lots of action.
Technical ‘Stuff’
How to Slay Your Inner Editor – Laura Drake on using Dragon voice recognition software. An interesting discussion in the comments.
9 (or more) Things I Love About Scrivener – as a Scrivener devotee myself, I nodded sagely all the way through Gwen Hernandez’s post at Writer Unboxed.
Marketing for Writers
Why Facebook Cannot Help You Sell Books – Michael Alvear on Digital Book World. With graphs and stuff that makes my eyes water, because statistics. I don’t think what he says here should come as that much of a surprise, and yet I’ll bet we all spend far too much time on Facebook trying to prove him wrong, with promo posts, and joining groups, and cover reveals and Facebook book launches. Excuse me while I prepare my Me Me Monday posts…
This Is How You Use Facebook to Sell Books – and a rebuttal of Alvear by Mark Dawson, also at Digital Book World (what an even handed blog!) explaining how you *can* game Facebook to shift books.
Author Cross-Promotions An interesting post at The Blood-Red Pencil on authors banding together to promote each others’ works and the various forms this might take. I only have one item in selfpublishing, but if anyone’s looking to join in a queer sci-fi boxed set, let me know!
How To Create A Compelling Book Sales Page – Tom Morkes at Writers Write, with a stunningly simple template for a book sales page. I can see several mornings in my future playing around with my website…
Publishing
Recent media articles on the demise of the ebook are countered here: Media often mistakes legacy publishing stats for market stats, foresees the decline of eBooks at Talking New Media and No, e-book sales are not falling, despite what publishers say at Fortune Magazine. Both articles have—shudder—graphs and stuff. Read at your own risk.
Publishers Initiate Predatory Pricing on e-Books to Destroy the Market – A related sort of post at The Good E-reader, with commentary at The Passive Voice
From Books to Ebooks and Back: The Future of Literary Consumption Is Unwritten – another related post, this time at Flavorwire, with a few comments at Passive Voice
Wrongs of rights – Clare Alexander at the Bookseller on the vexed question of publishers and rights to your books. Amusing discussion at The Passive Voice that touches on zombie parrots. Advice: READ your contract and be sure you want to sign away those rights. If you *do* have an agent, lean on ‘em hard to earn their percentage by selling your rights where they’ll get the most return.
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Resources
Cliché Finder : Have you been searching for just the right cliché to use? Are you searching for a cliché using the word “cat” or “day” but haven’t been able to come up with one? Just enter any words in the form below, and this search engine will return any clichés which use that phrase… How have I lived this long without this site?
12 Of The Most Popular Books On Writing – the Writers Write blog’s picks. I have two of these – Stephen King’s On Writing, Lynne Truss’s Eats Shoots and Leaves—and both are great, but I know nothing about the others. I can recommend James Scott Bell’s Plot & Structure though, and Douglas Bauer’s The Stuff Of Fiction. And definitely Ackerman and Puglisi’s Emotion Thesaurus.
That’s it for September. Enjoy the links!


Photobombing Autumn
There is nothing of substance to this post, except that I’m just home from the park and emptied my (and D’s) pockets of conkers and acorns. Adding some outrageously colourful leaves, we’ve used them to make a table centrepiece to brighten up the kitchen.
And this is why I love autumn so much.


September 27, 2015
Wheeeee! Newsletters!
It’s sort of a thing right now, isn’t it? Everyone does them. Even your Auntie Ethel probably sends you one at Christmas telling you all about her past year: the full story of her knock-down, hair-tearing fight with her sister Doris; a blow by blow account of Mildred’s elopement with her fitness adviser and wasn’t Walter stupid for goading her into going to the gym in the first place (but then, the man never did know what side of his bread had the butter), Cousin Charles’ exciting encounter with a handsome young guardsman in the park… that sort of thing. If you’re lucky, of course. All I ever get in Christmas letters is accounts of bunion operations. In a bad year, it’s about prolapsed wombs and hernias.
If I promise very, very faithfully never to talk about prolapsed *anythings* and promise never to spam you, would you be interested in getting a quarterly newsletter from me? It will feature news and snippets of works in progress, free fiction, competitions and giveaways. When you sign up, I’ll send you a FREE copy of FlashWired, in ebook and pdf formats.
Sadly it will come to you in electronic format, so you can’t even use it for Art…
The first newsletter will be zinging its way through the aether on 1 October. You get access to a free short story in it that won’t be more generally available on my website until the end of October, and the chance to win a little bag of Shield Swag.
Do sign up!
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September 24, 2015
Painting the Sky with Lily G Blunt
Audiobook
by
Lily G Blunt
Narrated by Joel Leslie
Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance
Listening Length: 6 hours and 4 minutes
Program Type: Audiobook
Version: Unabridged
Publisher: Lily G Blunt
Audible.co.uk Release Date: 3 Sept. 2015
Language: English
Audible.com / Audible UK / Amazon.com / Amazon UK / iTunes
Not an Audible member?
If you sign up to Audible for at least two months and Paint the Sky is your first purchase
my narrator and I will receive a bonus payment.
Currently you can receive one month’s membership with 1 FREE credit.
A love of art…
A mutual interest in art draws two shy university students together. Ben admires Vinnie’s painting of the university building, so Vinnie invites him to an exhibition of his artwork. From a wealthy family, Ben purchases some of Vinnie’s art and arranges for the artist to personally hang the paintings in his apartment.
Starry, starry night…
Ben commissions Vinnie to paint his portrait, in order to spend more time with the artist. On the night of the sitting, Vinnie fingerpaints the starry night on Ben’s chest… and they kiss. They begin a relationship beneath the night sky, God’s own canvas.
But every relationship has its ups and downs and so it is with theirs. When Ben thinks Vinnie spends too much time with a fellow artist, his jealousy drives a wedge between them and forces Vinnie into the very thing Ben dreads.
Hold tight to your dreams…
Ben and Vinnie will have to walk through fire before they can find one another again. But if they believe, and if they keep their faith in the night sky and each other, just maybe they can make their dreams of love come true.
LISTEN TO AN EXCERPT FROM THE AUDIOBOOK HERE
About the Audiobook Narrator
Joel Leslie was a pleasure to work with throughout.
I love his narration of my story and the way he brought the various characters to life.
Check out his others works here.
Audio Narration / Facebook / Audible
Vinnie led me across the room, pulling me by the shirt. “Lie back on the sofa for me and I’ll paint you.”
As if in a dream, I settled my head against one arm of the sofa, my legs dangling over the other end, scarcely breathing now. Vinnie knelt on the floor beside me with an open pot of paint in his hand.
Teasingly, he dipped his index finger into the dark blue paint as if it were cream he would lick off. His finger connected with my skin and he made short strokes across my chest, the coldness of the paint making me shiver.
Mesmerised by the closeness of his beautiful face, the view of the night sky through the window, and the picture forming upon my chest, I watched as dab after dab and stroke after stroke he built up a mix of shades, until a dark night sky with the moon and stars were there to be seen—a masterpiece, drying on the warmth of my blazing skin, a transient thing of beauty. His fingers skimmed my skin causing gooseflesh to ripple in waves down my arms and thighs. My nipples pebbled in response to his touch.
And when he was done, his lips met mine in a languid kiss; how our first kiss should have been—sweet, innocent, and full of promise. He pulled away, smiling down at me.
This was the beginning of something special.
ALSO AVAILABLE AS AN EBOOK AND IN PAPERBACK
Amazon.com / Amazon UK / ARe / PayHip
I’m offering a choice of either a signed paperback copy of Paint the Sky, an A5 or A6 notebook with a Paint the Sky cover to three lucky winners.
To enter the giveaway please comment on the post on Lily G Blunt’s blog saying which of the three gifts you would prefer.
Three winners will be randomly chosen on 3rd October when the
Paint the Sky Audiobook Blog Tour has finished.
Lily G. Blunt writes contemporary gay romance and erotica. She loves to explore the relationship between two men and the intensity of their physical and emotional attraction. Angst often features in her stories as she feels this demonstrates the depth of the men’s feelings for each other. Lily is forever writing imaginary scenes and plots in her head, but only a few ever make it to the page—there never seems to be enough hours in the day despite having left the teaching profession to concentrate on her writing!
Lily discovered the wonderful world of m/m romance novels five years ago via fan fiction and went on to write stories in her spare time. With the encouragement of her friends and readers she decided to publish some of her work. Lily subsequently self-published several stories via Amazon. She later published short stories with Torquere Press and Wayward Ink Publishing. Lily is excited about joining Pride Publishing for her upcoming story, The Handyman Can.
Easily distracted from her writing, Lily makes videos using clips from gay-themed movies and posts gorgeous pictures of men kissing or making out on her tumblr and Facebook pages. Lily is also an avid supporter of GLBTQ rights and advocates equality for all. She was recently a steward for Pride in London.
Lily lives in central England with her rather bemused husband and a ‘mad as a bag of frogs’ Shetland Sheepdog called Barney.
WordPress / Facebook Author Page / Tumblr / YouTube / Twitter / Goodreads / Pinterest


September 20, 2015
Singing At Heaven’s Gate
Today I am proud to be part of Divine Magazine‘s Pride Blog Hop, “All You Need Is Love”.
This hop has a simple concept that does what it says on the tin: love. Celebrate love.
I scratched my head about this for a little while, because hasn’t it all been said before and by people far more talented and poetic than me? I wondered what I could offer the blog hop that wouldn’t be a rehash of same old, same old. Then it struck me that maybe what matters here is that we just share a little bit of ourselves and what love means to us, and bugger being original or witty or all the other things we think we have to achieve.
So. Love.
For me, it’s not the beginning, when you’re sick and dizzy with it; when, like David Copperfield, love so consumes you that “At home, in my own room, I am sometimes moved to cry out, ‘Oh, Miss Shepherd!’ in a transport of love.” That’s fun, a wild ride, but it can’t last forever. No one can live at that altitude forever.
It’s when the humdrum things of life nearly overwhelm you. When things just jog along, or they’re mundane, or even when they’re not going well at all. When you’re discontented and disillusioned; tired and overworked. When your ‘bitchface’ becomes the thing you see in the mirror most. When you feel you’ll never be successful, that someone else’s books will always do better, sell better, be better than yours. When you feel frumpy and old and what little physical attraction you may have had seems faded and worn. When you’re passed over for that promotion at work. Or when they all forget your birthday. Or … or whatever thing, petty or huge, that Life throws at you to prove you’re the red-headed step child, not the Golden One. You know. Every day stuff.
Love’s the person you come home to who makes you a cup of tea, and doesn’t forget to bring you the biscuit tin. Who says “I’ll walk the dog. You put your feet up.” Who remembers you don’t like mushrooms and who’ll fish them out of the risotto before dishing it up. The one who’s there to turn your discontent to contentment, peace and warmth.
This one. Shakespeare’s one.
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
And here’s Sonnet 29 set to music and sung by Rufus Wainwright:
Go and hug your Sonnet 29. They deserve it.
!!!GIVEAWAYS!!!
Comment here, tweet about this post or share it, between now and September 28 when the hop ends, and I’ll choose one person by the stick-a-pin-in-it method to win an ebook copy of The Gilded Scarab, my steampunk LGBT romance set in Victorian Londinium in 1900, when Queen Victoria was on the throne, airships filled the skies, the Britannic Imperium is ruled by an oligarchy of powerful Convocation Houses, and Rafe Lancaster, ex pilot in Her Majesties AeroForce, buys a coffee house.
Go HERE to enter Divine Magazine’s “Grand Prize” Rafflecopter giveaway.
The Blog Hop
And finally, click here to see the other blogs taking part. Why not go and see what their take is? I’ll guarantee you’ll be entertained and delighted and there’ll be lots of prizes to win!


September 13, 2015
The Rumble of “Beautiful Thunder”
I’m delighted to welcome fellow Brit Louise Lyons back to the blog today, to talk about her latest release, Beautiful Thunder. And am I striking lucky this month with beautiful book covers to show off? What do you think of this one? Anyhow, over to Louise:
Can romance and rock ‘n’ roll dreams survive with a storm raging around them?
Alex Randall has always wanted to be a rock singer. When he answers an ad from a local band, his dream finally comes true. He loves the stage, and the group’s fans love him. Things couldn’t be better, except for the attraction he develops for the band’s guitarist, Lindsey. Alex is surprised and initially worried, since he only had one brief flirtation with a boy in his teens. But even though he and Lindsey become close and start seeing each other, Alex fears commitment, and Lindsey worries that Alex might only be experimenting.
When Lindsey’s ex contacts him following a health scare, fear and anger drives a wedge between Alex and Lindsey, which causes rifts within the band. Alex and Lindsey’s relationship is still new and fragile, and with Alex unwittingly blaming Lindsey for their problems, it becomes a true challenge for them to weather the storm.
“I, um, I came in by mistake.” I hoped the lack of light in the club would disguise my red face. My cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Avoiding his eyes, I let my gaze drift down over his white ruffled shirt—the same one he’d had on that time in Rock City.
“Right. First you can’t make band practice because you’ve caught my fictitious flu, and now you’re in a gay club by accident?”
I groaned. “Yeah, I lied about being sick. I’m an idiot. I came in here because I saw you down the street and I didn’t want you to see me and realize I lied.”
Lindsey frowned. “Why lie? Why not just say you can’t make it? Presumably you were going out to pick up a girl.”
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t tell him the truth—that I hadn’t wanted to face him—and the only other option was to let him think I’d let the band down in favor of getting my rocks off. “It won’t happen again. What are you doing in here, anyway?”
“I come in here every couple of weeks. I was intending to catch up with some friends.”
“So you skipped practice too?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I didn’t skip. Mark rang me and said you were ill and asked if I wanted to practice anyway. We decided to leave it and have a longer session tomorrow instead, with or without you.”
“Sorry,” I repeated. I took a long gulp of my beer. “I told Mark I’d caught your flu. Stupid, I know. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll get out of here in a minute. I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“I’m not looking for a bit of fun, Alex,” Lindsey snapped. “We don’t all get off with some random stranger every other night.”
“Nor do I. Not for a while.”
“But you don’t date. I doubt you can even remember the name of the last girl you were with.”
He was right, I couldn’t remember, and I covered it up by trying to sound annoyed. “Why are you having a go at me? Because you think I’m a slut? Or because I lied about being ill?”
“Neither. I’m sorry. I’m going to get a drink.”
I stayed where I was as Lindsey went to the bar and engaged in a chat with someone while he waited to be served. He shook hands with the other man and then leaned on the bar and talked to the barman. Eventually, he returned to me, carrying a bottle of Bud.
“I’ve nearly finished this.” I indicated my own bottle. “Then I’ll go.”
Lindsey nodded and sipped his beer. He didn’t speak, and I fiddled with my bottle, trying not to stare at him. He looked good as usual, and for once he wasn’t wearing makeup. His jeans were so tight, he probably had to use a shoehorn to get into them. I couldn’t stop myself imagining us in various scenarios—dancing like the two guys a few yards away, kissing like the pair nearby who were still at it. Would Lindsey even be interested in me?
I didn’t know how long we stood there not talking. Lindsey interrupted my thoughts with a muttered curse, and I looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Steve’s here.”
“Where?”
“The dark-haired bloke who just came in. The one in the red shirt.”
I looked toward the door and spotted the man Lindsey had described. His collar-length hair framed a rugged face, and his muscular body indicated he worked out regularly. I had no idea what Lindsey’s type was, but I hadn’t imagined him going for someone like that. The man looked like he had a lot of power to put behind a punch. I put my bottle down on a nearby table and clenched my fists. “Do you want to leave?”
“No, I’m going to speak to him. I’m sick to death of jumping out of my skin whenever someone rings me or knocks on the door.”
“I could talk to him.”
Lindsey shook his head. “Don’t interfere, Alex. Stay here.” He put his drink on the table and strode away from me. I watched, grinding my teeth, as he halted close to Steve and spoke to him. Sweat stuck my shirt to my back. I knew nothing about Steve other than that he’d hurt Lindsey, and I wanted to go over there and punch the man’s lights out.
The pair talked for a few minutes, Steve gesturing in what looked to be an effort to placate Lindsey. At least he didn’t look as if he was about to hit him. Lindsey kept shaking his head, and at one point he glanced over his shoulder in my direction and jabbed a thumb at me. I wished I could hear what they were saying. Steve shrugged and nodded. He stayed where he was as Lindsey came back to me.
“What…?” I began.
“Do me a favor, I’ll explain later, just kiss me,” Lindsey said, his words almost running into each other in his haste.
I didn’t have time to think or question. I cupped his face, then slid my hand into his hair as I drew him closer. He rested his hands on my chest, and his lips parted as they met mine. I closed my eyes and caressed his lips, and I was instantly reminded of Joey’s kiss. Lindsey’s lips were firm but soft at the same time, and he wasn’t gentle and delicate like a girl. He kissed back hard and crushed my lips against my teeth. I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me, but it was obviously meant to be a show for Steve. I slid my arm around his waist and pulled him tighter against me. I didn’t care if he felt I was getting hard. My pulse raced, and I trembled with a combination of excitement and fear. Deepening the kiss, I stroked my tongue over his, and his tongue bar clicked against my teeth as he responded. I groaned and wondered if Lindsey heard it. He was bound to have felt the effect he was having on me by now. My rock-hard cock was trapped against his thigh.
Lindsey broke the kiss and turned his face into my neck. Warm puffs of breath fanned my skin, and he continued to hold on to me as he spoke quietly in my ear. “He wanted me back. He kept apologizing for hitting me. I told him to fuck off and that I’m with you. He seemed to accept it.” He pulled away at last and put a few inches between us. “Sorry about this. It was pretty childish, rubbing his nose in it, but….” He shrugged, then lifted his gaze to mine and grinned. “Anyway… I didn’t expect that reaction from you. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
My face heated up, and I lowered away. “I, um, you took me by surprise,” I muttered.
Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers. Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt wrote poems for the church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand old age of 8, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the light of day until she discovered FanFiction in her late 20s.
Posting stories based on some of her favorite movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her take her writing “hobby” more seriously.
Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long-distance. Some of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to make notes.
Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.
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Email: louiselyons013@gmail.com


September 3, 2015
Flamboyance, Flamingos and Fen
That title has a pleasing sort of symmetry to it, don’t you think? Anyhow, on to business.
Don’t know about you, but my Facebook feed has a lot of naked men on it. Can’t imagine how that happens. Every now and again, as you’re spooling through, smiling at all the saucy bookcovers and trying to tell yourself that they don’t all really look alike – and hey! it’s that blond model again and does that boy even *own* a shirt? – a cover leaps out at you, virtually yelling “Look at me! Looky here! I’m different!”
The cover of Theo Fenraven’s new release (re-release?) did just that. I just love how different it is, love the explosion of hot colour against the grey background. It *pops*. And when I heard the tale of getting the book rights back and reworking the text, I couldn’t wait to offer Fen a slot here to tell us all about it. So here’s where I bow out, and Fen takes over:
I started getting books published when I owned a house in Western Wisconsin. That was quite a while go. The economy sucked then, too; Bush was still president and Scott Walker was waiting in the wings, but that’s a tangent I won’t go off on. Heh.
A few months ago, I suddenly realized the contracts on a couple books I’d placed with a publisher had surely run out, so I emailed and asked for my rights back. They had no problem with that, but I was informed I couldn’t avail myself of any of their edits. In other words, I was on my own.
As it happens, I’ve been a professional editor for years and years, so I was not daunted. I opened the original document, got out the figurative red pencil, and began at the beginning. It had been years since I’d read these books. The words were fresh and new, making the first edit easy. But then it immediately became more difficult.
Ever wonder why a publisher puts authors through multiple edits? Because no matter how good an editor you are—and I’m pretty damn good—things are missed. We can also assume writers overlook shit, because we develop tunnel vision when we’re in the zone, and weird little details escape our notice.
That’s where beta readers come in. I would no sooner publish without them than I would walk out the front door naked. Once that book is available, you are essentially naked before the world, all your mistakes blinking in neon for everyone to see. Most of us know a few reviewers who delight in pouncing on every little error. “Typo on page sixteen and my gawd! Didn’t anyone confirm the spelling of that street name in the second to last chapter?” And your four-star review slips to three.
The reissues of those titles got different names, a thorough vetting, and new covers before being sent back into the world through my press, Voodoo Lily. In the case of The Flamboyant Flamingo, several scenes were added. In Phoniex, one character was changed from minor to major and male to female. Yes, it was a lot of work, but how many times does one get a second chance? I decided to take advantage of it.
If you get the rights back to previously published works and hand the titles off to a new publisher, you’re good to go! They’ll take care of everything for you.
But if you self-publish, as I do, prepare for a lot of work or an expenditure of money (to pay for those edits and the new covers). It will essentially be no different from what you do to prepare an entirely new book for release.
Is it worth it? Only you can answer that question, but one of the reasons I wanted my rights back is because the royalties I was getting on those publisher titles were so tiny, given their cut and that of the third-party vendors, I felt like I was giving the copies away.
Self-publishing allows me to take control of everything, and that pleases the thwarted dictator in me. I always wanted to run a small country. Self-publishing gives me the illusion I do, thereby saving the world from my grander ambitions.
Benched for a minor knee injury, pro baseball player Devin Carter recuperates on beautiful Islamorada in the Keys, where he meets Jim Dellwood, half-owner of a run-down resort. The attraction is immediate, the chemistry is good, but it’s not love yet. They agree to stay in touch but keep things casual.
Back in Sarasota, Devin hooks up with another player for no-strings sex but quickly realizes Jorge Rodriguez, newest teammate for the Suns, has a different take on their relationship. With things heating up between him and Jim, Devin tries to break it off, but Jorge won’t take no for an answer.
Set in Florida, the sun-drenched land of eternal summer, and played out against the backdrop of high-stakes baseball, this tale of love and obsession will keep you awake long into the night.
The team returned to Sarasota two days later. Devin couldn’t wait to see Rusty and sleep in his own bed. He also needed a break from Jorge, who had attached himself to Devin like a leech to bare skin, despite his best efforts to dislodge him.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. He wasn’t happy spending much of his day with someone he didn’t love but only liked, someone who was basically, to put it crudely, a fuck. Whatever the magical thing was that happened between two people who resonated with each other, he and Jorge didn’t have it.
Determined to end it once and for all, he shed Jorge as quickly as possible upon arrival and hurried home, stopping at Elise’s to pick up Rusty. The dog was exuberant in his welcome, leaping about and smiling like mad.
Once back at the condo, Devin breathed a sigh of relief while Rusty seemed to do the same, happily sniffing in the corners before settling in his favorite spot on the balcony. Cell in hand, Devin joined him, sitting in his comfortable lounger, feet up, head back, gazing at a beautiful blue sky.
When Jim answered, he said, “Hi. It’s me.”
“Home?”
“At last, and it feels great.” It was odd. Much as he’d come to resent Jorge’s presence, he liked the idea of Jim being around. “I don’t suppose you could get away for a couple days?”
“That might be possible. Our busy season doesn’t start for a while.”
“That would be great.” The thought of seeing Jim again caused a surge of happiness to go through him.
“How’s it going with your situation?”
Devin knew exactly what Jim was asking. “Unresolved. It was impossible to avoid him while we traveled, but I’m home now. I can control things better.”
“But you’ll see him at work. You can’t avoid him there.”
His cell signaled an incoming call. He checked the display. Shit. “Jim, I have to take this. I’ll call you right back.”
“No problem.” Jim clicked off.
Heaving a sigh, Devin said, “Jorge. I thought I was clear when we got back home. What we had was good, but it’s over.”
“It can’t be over. We’ve only just begun.”
Hearing Karen Carpenter surreally singing the phrase in the back of his mind, Devin said, “I’m not comfortable being involved with someone I work with.”
“I’ve been careful. No one knows.” There was a touch of anger in his words.
Devin relented, softening his tone. “For that, I thank you.”
“I’ll come over. We’ll talk.”
The hardness sprang back into his voice. “No. I meant it, Jorge. We’re done.”
There was a long moment of silence, and Devin waited, hoping Jorge would accept this and let it go. Finding out Jorge had called Jim behind his back and then lied about leaving his phone in his room had been the beginning of the end. No amount of sex would change the feeling of weird now surrounding the third baseman.
When Jorge finally spoke, it was in a whisper. “I think not.”


August 30, 2015
Links To Blog Posts on Writing – August 2015
You know, if I had an ounce of the sense misnamed ‘common’, I’d compile this list as I meander gently through the month, instead of the unseemly scramble I go through as the 30th or 31st suddenly looms large on the calendar. Because once again, I’m scrabbling about at the last minute, trying to remember what I read and where, and cursing my own bad habits. Despite that, here’s August’s list as best I can remember it between househunting and graphic reminders of why I’m glad to have (essentially) left fandom behind…
Word of the month: batty-fang.
Writing (general)
The Hugo debacle came to an end that was, I think, a reasonable one. Most of the nominations on the Rabid/Sad puppy slate were either defeated (yay for a winning novel not written in white, male America!) or the categories where they dominated ended with a deliberate ‘no award’. Not that it stops them, of course, and they’re already whinging in their kennels about next year. A few interesting posts pulling it all together:
Samuel Delany and the Past and Future of Science Fiction – fascinating article by Peter Berbergal at The New Yorker about one of the groundbreaking non-white, non-straight SF writers and how the attitudes behind the Puppies is nothing new. Made me want to slap Isaac Asimov. Hard.
The Puppies are taking science fiction’s Hugo awards back in time – an article at the Guardian published before WorldCon, but still worth reading. Because those wee doggies refuse to go away and promise a rerun next year.
Fans Try Bringing Diversity Of Thought To Sci-Fi Literature… And That Scares Liberal Elitist Gatekeepers To Death – and to show we can read both sides, a piece by Chicks on the Right, who support the Puppies. Has lots of links, including to Larry Correia’s filking of the Guardian article mentioned above. Interesting discussion about this at The Passive Voice
The Obligatory Hugo Awards Recap Post – Chuck Wendig’s take.
Non- Hugo stuff:
Why Social Justice Is Intrinsic to Storytelling -Tangential to the Hugo debacle, but relevant and an important article to read. By Chris Wrinkle at Mythcreants.
Homme de Plume: What I Learned Sending My Novel Out Under a Male Name – a piece by Catherine Nichols that could have surprised no one, unless the person reading it was a fossilised brontosaurus. Better discussion in the comments at .
#TenThingsNotToSayToAWriter Hashtag Has Famous Authors Venting and Bonding on Twitter – Sage Lazzaro at Observer with a compilation of tweets from authors. I won’t quibble about ‘famous’, but…
Subjectivity and Reader Shaming – a very interesting blog post from Jami Gold, on the denigration of the romance genre. Made me rethink my sneers at people reading 50 Shades. Just kidding!
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Writing (skills)
Six More Character Archetypes to Ditch by Oren Ashkenazi. I’m linking to this entry on the Mythcreants blog as an exemplar of how useful a place this is for writers, even if they aren’t writing SF or fantasy. This is a short article on character archetypes that don’t hold up to close scrutiny, no matter what the genre. Explore the site and find more useful stuff.
The Art of The Flashback – Love ‘em or hate ‘em, flashbacks are in the arsenal and there to be used when your story needs them. Sierra Godfrey at Writers In The Storm, on controlling pacing etc when utilising them.
5 Techniques for Amazing Internal Dialogue – Marcy Kennedy at Writers in the Storm on how to deal with thoughts in your character’s heads. I’m not entirely convinced by all of this, because I adore a really deep PoV, where the writer keeps it seamless and doesn’t use italics to show off thinky thoughts – frowns at my editor who makes me do just that, and pouts.
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Writers on Writing
(a) Chuck Wendig
100 Random Storytelling Thoughts And Tips, Starting Now – What the title says. Especially 5, 6, 14, 18, 27-42, 33, 49, 64, 77, 88, 91, 100. Which ones resonate with you? Tell me.
Starving Is A Terrible Condition For Making Art – Chuck on authors looking after themselves.
Third Person, Present Tense Is My Space Jam – on his reasons for choosing this PoV. I’ve never written it outside of fanfiction, but I love the immediacy of it. As Chuck says, it has a cinematic quality.
It Only Gets Harder Once You’re Published – some ruminations on the stresses of being an author. Maybe read this in conjunction with the article on starving…
The Obligatory Hugo Awards Recap Post – what it says in the title. More readable than most, to be honest.
I Smell Your Rookie Moves, New Writers – “I don’t know which testicle is my favorite,” Dave shrugged. And if that doesn’t get you to read Chuck’s advice to new writers, I don’t know what will.
(b) Others
Perfectionism is Murdering Your Muse – This! This, this, this, this, this, this-y this this. Veronica Sicoe on how perfection fucks you up. A post which resonated with me. In case you didn’t guess.
David Nabhan: Five Things I Learned Writing Pilots Of Borealis
13 Tips for Actually Getting Some Writing Accomplished – Gretchen Rubin at Aerogramme Writers’ Studio.
Mind Mapping: A Pantser’s Path to the Perfect Story – Orly Konig-Lopez at Writers In The Storm, with an example of how she built a character ‘map’ using the squashed spider technique. Mind maps always look like squished spiders to me – that central ‘body’ with all the legs coming off it. From which you may gather I am not a fan.
Technical ‘Stuff’
39 Stellar Examples of Author Facebook Cover Photo Designs – Diana Urban at Bookbub. Useful for how she breaks down the space to show what bits of the cover will show up on mobile devices and tablets, etc – because not all of it will. This allows you to focus the important parts of the design where it will do most good. When I get a minute, I’ll redo mine…
Ultimate Guide to Self-Publishing & Book Distribution Tools – Diana Urban at Bookbub – on a roll with helpful stuff.
Marketing for Writers
Do book tours sell books? Maybe not, but that shouldn’t stop you from having a good time. – Interesting article at The Washington Post about the value of the author getting out there personally. Given how much self promotion an author has to do these days, at least with a book tour you get to see a bit of the country and it’s more fun than Facebook.
Publishing
Authors, Keep Your Copyrights. You Earned Them and Delete the Non-Compete– The Authors Guild with some advice on contracting, with links to its Fair Contract Initiative.
Will Traditional Publishing Retain Its Dominance by Mandating That Its Authors Keep Their Distance From Self-Published Authors? – Brooke Warner at HuffPost Books on publisher hypocrisy (or should that be desperation?)
Anti-Amazon news
The Authors Guild’s Mary Rasenberger on Why Amazon Deserves Antitrust Scrutiny – more anti-Amazon rhetoric from vested interests. Which isn’t to say that they may not have good points, but they’re coming over as a little rabid. At the American Booksellers Association, which has no axe to grind. [/sarcasm]
TL;DR – The Authors Guild Still Sucks – Joe Konrath and Barry Eisler duet at Joe’s blog. Great read. Makes me want to cuddle Amazon and give it kittens. Fascinating discussion in the comments.
Why Is the Authors Guild Supporting Publishers Against Amazon—And More Than It Supports Authors? – Brian Doherty at reason.com with a piece on the disconnect between the Authors Guild and benefits to their members of the way Amazon encourages writers outside the Big Five.
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Resources
56 delightful Victorian slang terms you should be using – a bang up to the elephant list, my chuckaboos, about which I am so completely enthuzimuzzy that I’m bursting out of my gas pipes and mafficking like crazy.
That’s it for August. Enjoy the links!


August 18, 2015
Twelfth Night, with Erin and Racheline
Isn’t this the most gorgeous cover? I’m delighted to welcome Erin McCrae and Racheline Maltese back to the blog today to show us that delicious cover and tell us a little about their new release, Twelfth Night. Over to you, ladies!
Like many New Yorkers, I’ve spent most of my summers visiting the Jersey Shore. For me, that’s been the stretch of beach that includes Ocean Grove and Asbury Park.
Both towns, which together encompass little more than two miles of beachfront, are peculiar relics of another age. Asbury was one an amusement park town; today, while the mini golf and pinball hall of fame remain, the rides are all gone. Ocean Grove, on the other hand, started and continues life as a Methodist Camp Meeting town.
Today both towns are also popular destinations for LGBTQ travelers and have significant LGBTQ populations. Sometimes, this makes things awkward, like that time someone hissed something about lesbian witches at my partner and I as we walked down the boardwalk. Mostly,though, no one cares.
We set the opening of Twelfth Night in Ocean Grove and Asbury because we wanted to capture our hero John, who is still in the process of coming out to himself and others, adjusting to being someplace that was strongly queer and would recognize him as one of their own. But we also wanted to capture the sense he has of embodying a lot of internal conflicts, much like these towns.
Both towns are easily accessible by public transit and are just a few hours from New York City, and our worth your visit in you’re in the area. Regrettably, the nightclub with the “Less Lights, More Fun” marquee mentioned in Twelfth Night is no more.
Michael and John, a May/December couple, navigated the repercussions of their gay-for-you love affair in the hothouse of a summerstock theater production.
Back in New York City at the conclusion of their show’s run, John is overwhelmed by his obsession with Michael and the difficulties of learning to date again after the death of his young son and his recent divorce. John gradually comes out to his colleagues, his football rec league friends, and even his ex-wife.
But when he invites his parents over for Christmas to meet the person he’s been seeing, the holiday—featuring Michael’s family’s amateur production of Twelfth Night—quickly turns into a French farce of potentially catastrophic proportions, forcing John finally to take the lead in claiming his evolving identity as he takes the next step in his relationship with Michael.
Erin McRae is a queer writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. She has a master’s degree in International Affairs from American University, and delights in applying her knowledge of international relations theory to her fiction and screen-based projects, because conflict drives narrative.
Racheline Maltese lives a big life from a small space. She flies planes, sails boats, and rides horses, but as a native New Yorker, has no idea how to drive a car. A long-time entertainment and media industry professional, she lives in Brooklyn with her partner and their two cats.
Together, they are co-authors of the gay romance series Love in Los Angeles, set in the film and television industry — Starling (September 10, 2014), Doves (January 21, 2015), and Phoenix (June 10, 2015) — from Torquere Press. Their gay romance novella series Love’s Labours, set in the theater world — Midsummer (May 2015), and Twelfth Night (Fall 2015), is from Dreamspinner Press. They also have a story in Best Gay Romance 2015 from Cleis Press and edited by Felice Picano. You can find them on the web at http://www.Avian30.com.
Social media links:
Joint Blog: http://Avian30.com
Joint Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/Erin.and.Racheline
Erin’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/erincmcrae
Racheline’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/racheline_m
Erin’s Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8323893.Erin_McRae
Racheline’s Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1015335.Racheline_Maltese
Erin’s Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Erin–McRae/e/B00M7A0SVC
Racheline’s Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Racheline–Maltese/e/B001JRVS2C
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25202261-twelfth-night
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Twelfth–Night–Loves–Labours–Book–ebook/dp/B0139K6ZVA/
AllRomance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product–twelfthnight-1857858-149.html
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/twelfth–night–racheline–maltese/1122445722?ean=2940151204088
Dreamspinner: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6728
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Racheline_Maltese_Twelfth_Night?id=20VKCgAAQBAJ
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en–US/ebook/twelfth–night-65
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25202261-twelfth–night
John doesn’t expect Michael to be as weirdly taken with the ocean as he is with the wild woods. It doesn’t seem like his element the way the trees are. But he is mesmerized by the beach almost instantly upon their arrival, insisting they walk along the hard wet sand of the tide line. It doesn’t matter how many times John says their muscles will ache unhappily tomorrow from miles walked at the edge of the frigid fall water; Michael either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care enough to respond.
John is fascinated as Michael keeps a close eye on shells and rocks. One is shaped like a small egg, and he’s disappointed when it’s not. Still he makes John hold it for him, running ahead to a rock jetty to comb through the midden of mussel shells left by persistent and angry seagulls.
John tries not to be horrified, but the sight of Michael’s fingers picking through the dead bivalves and seaweed stinking in the sun is a bit much.
“What’s this?” Michael asks, eventually, holding out a shell, colored and swirled, to him.
It’s in perfect condition, and John is about to be impressed with the find until he realizes there’s still a creature using the shell as its home.
“That’s an animal in there.” He doesn’t actually know what kind. But it’s gelatinous and of the sea and not really a thing they should be messing with. They’ve seen dozens of jellyfish washed up on the beach already today.
“Does it go in the ocean or not in the ocean?”
“Ocean,” John says. He’s not 100 percent sure, but he suspects, like the jellyfish, the sun and the birds will eventually cook and peck it to nothing if it’s not saved by the sea.
Michael throws the shell back and returns to the tide line as they walk, gaze carefully on the ground and picking at every shell he sees that looks like whatever creature he just rescued. Most of them have their animals in them, and John suspects the coming hurricane that’s going to ruin their trip is churning them up.
As Michael throws each one back into the water, John is charmed that he’s trying to save creatures that have no spine, names he doesn’t know, and forms he’s never seen before.
Eventually Michael decides they can leave and reaches for John’s hand. John flinches away. It’s not the strangeness of the town this beach is attached to, half religious meeting town, half gay beach paradise. There’s even a club down the block from their inn that advertises “Less Lights, More Fun!” It’s that he can only think about whatever bacteria Michael is now coated in from all the dead mussels.
God, but he’s going to look like an idiot explaining that.
When he tries, stumbling through a mini monologue about seaweed and sea creatures and sand, Michael just listens with his head tipped to the side.
Finally John’s speech drags to a halt under Michael’s incredibly unimpressed gaze. He sighs and starts again.
“Okay. I swear the handholding thing has nothing to do with anything except your gross dead bivalve hands. But I think I may be freaking out.”
Michael blinks at him. “Did this start when we checked in and you had to deal with people who know we’re here to fuck?”
It’s sharp, but John knows he probably deserves it.
“You know I don’t mind being out in public with you,” he says cautiously. He wants to be honest with Michael, but he also doesn’t want to provoke anger by being less willing to be out than Michael deems sufficient.
Thankfully Michael considers John for a moment and then grins. “Somewhere in the romantic beach getaway, I got that.”
John lets out a relieved sigh and wraps an arm around Michael’s waist. He wants to prove his willingness to be fully in this relationship without shame, but life is also just better when they’re touching. Michael leans into his side, and they start walking down the sand again.
“But it’s something I can’t help being aware of,” John says quietly as they walk. “What we are and what people see when they look at me. Which apparently means I’ve found my internalized homophobia, and I am completely aware of how gross that is. I’m going to work on that, but there it is.”
“You still want to, like, go out to dinner tonight and make out on the boardwalk, though, right?”
“Oh my God, you have no idea. I want to tell everybody about you.”
Michael smirks. “So why don’t you?”
“Coming out at my age is kind of more complicated than it is at twelve. Or however old you were when you did.”
“I was fourteen, thank you.”
“So how did you come out to your parents?” John asks after they walk for a few minutes in silence.
Michael cracks up.
“I’m serious!”
Michael buries his face in John’s arm and apparently can’t stop laughing. “You do understand how ridiculous this is, right?”
“I understand that I’m forty-two and have to come out to everyone in my entire life that I give a remote shit about, because you are addictive and fascinating and wonderful and also are sadly holding me to some pretty legitimate ethical standards. So help a guy out, okay?”
“I was making out with my first high school boyfriend in the living room, and my mom walked in.”
John is entirely not surprised. “So hey, when you meet my family, let’s not go with that plan, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Michael says, drawing the word out in a way that makes it clear it’s his turn to be defensive and weird.
John smirks, pleased to be off the hook for the moment. “You haven’t told them about us either,” he says smugly.
Michael mumbles something against John’s arm.
“What was that?”
“You’re really old,” Michael says. “And they’re going to freak.”


August 8, 2015
Dancing On The Lawn
“Waaah! Women authors hijack the gay experience! They make it all romantic! It’s all rainbows and feelings, buttsex and kissing, and happy ever after! Get off my lawn, you people with uterii! Waaah!”
Yup, Old Faithful has cropped up again. There’s a certain won’t-lie-down-and-die view about women writing two men having sex, that says women writers are too hung up on penetration as opposed to other (more common?) forms of sexual release and that we frequently want one of our male characters to act more like a female, including when we describe the way the men react to sexual experiences.
Mmmn. Not a new point of view at all, that women are out to feminise male spaces and infect them with emotion and feeling. Nor is the implied “but they have no right to do this!” that lies behind the complaint in the first place. But obviously, as a woman who writes about male relationships and feelings and all that shit, I have my view too. So I’m going to set out my stall here.
First, western civilisation has done men, gay or straight, a huge disservice in teaching them that emotions are something to despise and fear, and that allowing themselves to admit to feelings somehow feminises and unmans them. And of course, anything feminine is bad, right? There was a piece of research conducted with a group of Michigan twelve-year-olds in 1994 where the children were asked to imagine that when they woke up the next morning, they’d be the opposite gender. The girls were mostly all about grasping an opportunity – “I could be a doctor, rather than a nurse! Or drive a train! Or something that traditionally men have done and women have had a secondary role in!” Very few boys welcomed the idea of change. Most of them tried to imagine a way of escaping such a terrible fate and some even said they’d kill themselves if they woke up female. That’s sad. While more and more women move into traditionally male spaces and are challenging their imposed gender roles, finding new ways to define themselves, society seems to be stuck on the male gender stereotype. That’s terribly sad.
Second, no matter the gender of the writer, the m/m genre is about ‘good storytelling’ and ‘strong characters’ and ‘forget the world and lose yourself for an hour here’. And it is *burgeoning*. It covers every sub-genre you can think of: scifi, westerns, mystery, paranormal, detective fiction, crime procedurals… the lot. Every single genre is written, rewritten and reclaimed through the lens of two male protagonists and the relationship between them.

By MasterDesigner, on Flickr, shared through Creative Commons license.
Does it have tropes and expectations that are getting a little worn around the edges? You betchya. There may be some merit in the complaint that women writers see penetration as the ultimate expression of love and commitment, for example. That’s something I’m pondering, but which will be pretty academic for most of the rest of the Shield series as it moves into its mainly sci-fi mode. Still, it’s good for us to examine critically whether we’re getting into a rut. So to speak.
Does it have excitement, vibrancy, freshness? Again, you betchya. There is a great deal of creativity out there and I’m proud to be a (very tiny!) part of it.
So here’s what I think we writers bring to the table: heartfelt emotion and drama, eroticism, and yes, sex scenes in which the feelings and the relationship matter as much as the physical gymnastics. Stories about love. Stories about loss. And sometimes, stories that are about love and drama and conflict and yet don’t meet the expectations of the romance readers in terms of a happy ever after, but which are still gay fiction and about gay characters. But ultimately stories about people, their lives, loves and relationships.
So yes. Maybe all the women reading and writing in the m/m genre have allowed in a whole host of new ideas, new challenges, new approaches to the depiction of gay men in fiction, and brought with them a whole new audience and a new experience. Maybe we are dancing on the lawn.
But you know, I can’t think that’s a bad thing. Suck it up, sunshine. We’re here to stay.
(For a really insightful post on women writing m/m fiction and their impact on gay fiction generally, read Jamie Fassenden’s “My take on women writing m/m romance.” )

