R.J. Blain's Blog, page 72
March 26, 2015
Clean Writer: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Dear Clean Reader,
You have the freedom of religion and speech–you can say what you want. I support your freedom to believe what you want and say what you want.
Unfortunately for you, this is a two-way street. I can believe what I want, and I can say what I want.
You have the freedom to not listen. I have the freedom to not listen to you, too.
I don’t feel you have the freedom or right to change my words because you don’t like what I have to say. I have the freedom to speak–and write–the words I want in my novels. That is my art. That is my story. While I’d love everyone to read and enjoy my stories, I understand not everyone is my audience.
If you don’t like the use of the words fuck or bitch, or if you dislike the thought of a witch working with a bitch, my novels aren’t for you–and I’m okay with that.
I want you, Reader, to be happy with what you read.
At the same time, I want my book to remain my book. Please don’t take away my freedom of speech because you don’t like what I’m saying. Don’t change my words because you don’t like what I have to say. Go ahead and skip scenes–go ahead and ignore what I have to say. But don’t change my words. Those were written for a reason. And in my books, I say fuck and bitch and shit and damned and an assortment of other naughty words that may be difficult for you to swallow.
I don’t mind if you don’t like what I’m saying, but please don’t take away my right to say it.
The words in my novels are, and will always be, mine. They are not yours to change as you please, simply because you are not comfortable with what I have to say.
I do not support your application, and I am intend never to do business with you and yours.
Fuck off.
Yours,
RJ Blain.
Some of you might be asking just what that little tirade was about. Over the past few days, the internet has exploded regarding an app called Clean Reader. Clean Reader, developed by a fundamental Christian who was tired of reading profane language, scrubs novels for naughty words and replaces the terrible, frightening, profane, scary words!!! with harmless ones.
At a glance, I can see why many people would like this feature; profanity in books is difficult to avoid, and many adults don’t want their children getting a hold of stories with bad words in them. I grew up with a very colorful language. Amazingly enough, I didn’t turn into a monster. To this day, I still have a rather extensive vocabulary of naughty, naughty words.
Chuck Wendig wrote a spectacular piece on Clean Reader, and I agree with it from top to bottom. However, I’d like to go on to make some observations about this app from my perspective.
My first thought: Fuck you, Clean Reader. Bitch is not another word for witch. This is another shining example of why computers can’t do your editorial work for you. Bitch has several different meanings and connotations. One is a curse word. One is not. Get over it. Welcome to the English language.
I’m the author of the Witch & Wolf novels. Bitch is a term for female dog. Guess what? Female Fenerec, the wolves in my world, are frequently called bitches. It is a compliment. Calling someone the son of a bitch is also complimentary. It’s a nod of respect to the mother, who is a bitch.
They’re proud to be bitches–in all ways.
In Winter Wolf and Inquisitor, the main characters at one point or another are referred to as bitches. They’re also partnered with witches.
If you exchange bitch for witch, the entire story changes. Two witches are going out for a party instead of a bitch and a witch. A son of a witch is a much different thing than a son of a bitch in my world.
You’re not just cleaning up the language of novels when you use this app. You are changing the meaning of the story. You’re altering the plot, the characters–and the imagery the author wrote for your enjoyment–or not, if you dislike profanity.
I understand adults wanting to purify the world for their children. It’s an instinct to want to nurture and protect the young.
My novels aren’t the only stories that will suffer catastrophically from the existence of this application. Take George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. Sure, I may not like the writing or the series–but Martin uses traditional and crude language to convey things. Entire characters are hinged on the use of this language. If you take away the bitches and make them witches, the entire story changes. The entire tone of the novel is destroyed.
I may not like Martin’s works, but I respect his art–I respect the words he chose. I don’t like them. He had the freedom to say and write those words.
I chose not to read that series of his. That’s my choice as a reader.
When I initially found out about Clean Reader through a member’s only discussion over at SFWA, I was on the fence about the app. I could see some uses for it in very certain contexts. There are some novels where the fuck bomb gets dropped so frequently that it makes my eyes cross and my cheeks twitch. It’s annoying–and I don’t really feel so many fucks doesn’t help express anything about the characters.
But, I respect the living fucks out of the author’s right to put those fucks there–and have the book read as it was intended. Black text on a black background, where I could see the words used if I chose–I could live with that. But changing those words to sanitize a novel?
That I can’t live with. It’s a violation of the author’s freedom of speech.
If Clean Reader simply put black text on black background for the naughty words, allowing readers to see those original words, I wouldn’t have been so up in arms over this.
The more I thought about it–and the more I read about the concerns of others regarding this app, the more I really disliked the app altogether.
My bitches aren’t witches–they’re bitches. Some of my bitches are witches, but them being witch witches makes no sense.
Some readers want to stay safely nestled in their comfort zones. I get that. There are books I simply can’t read because they take me too far from what I can handle. I put down that book and quietly walk away. Sometimes it is the language–like Martin’s novels. The language bothers me, so I do not read it. I find his writing crude, and I simply can’t tolerate it enough to get into the story or the characters.
Sometimes it is the content that bothers me… so I choose to avoid those books. That’s my choice as a reader. I do not buy what I cannot bring myself to read. I also check the samples of books I buy to make sure the content doesn’t bother me. Most books have the language and content present within the sample, so it’s not like I can’t filter what I don’t want to read. I also check reviews for that sort of thing.
If it isn’t something I can stomach, I exercise my right as a reader and find some other story to consume.
I don’t have children, but if I did, if it’s a book I’m willing to read, it includes things I’m willing to discuss with my children, no matter what age they are.
If I had a child and they wanted to learn about the birds and the bees, they’d know. And they’d get my moral lessons along with it–and why what they read doesn’t define who they are. That’s my job as a parent.
If you don’t want your child reading those books, don’t let them read those books. You can install a door on your bookshelves and use a lock. Keep the key. That’s your right.
But don’t take away my right to express myself. I chose those words for a reason. I didn’t choose them so someone else could come behind me and change them. If you don’t like reading profane language–don’t read them. Skip them. Skip the sex scenes (which I don’t typically write anyway), skip the graphic violence–choose not to read the books.
But don’t change my words because you can’t handle what I have to say.
For the record, if Clean Reader only changed the color of the background and text to black out the questionable words, I wouldn’t have quite as much of a problem with the existence of the app. My words aren’t being changed, and are still available for the reader–in their original form.
But don’t change my words because you can’t handle what I have to say. So long as you have the freedom to say what you want, so do I, and I will never give you permission to change my words without my consent.
P.S.: The title of this post is incorrect on purpose. If it’s okay for the app to change words in my book to whatever the fuck they want, I can change the name of their app. After all, if bitch is witch, then reader can be writer, right?
March 16, 2015
Play by Play Review: Twilight, Chapter 2
After a long break caused by work, work, and more work, I am back to reading Twilight by Stephanie Meyers. I’m actually eager to be reading again, mainly because I’ve been so busy doing work things that I haven’t had a lot of time for play things. This is play and fun for me, as is my Play by Play of Fifty Shades of Grey. (That’ll be back tomorrow, folks!)
I will be rotating chapters of Twilight and Fifty Shades; I simply don’t have enough time to do readings of both each day. Squeezing in a chapter of one is already pushing my luck, considering my insane work schedule, which is entirely self-imposed.
One of these days I’ll learn. Really.
Where I last left off, I’ve decided I really don’t like Bella, as I view her as a waste of air. That said, we have an agreement on what classifies as an awesome truck–the one her Police Chief father acquired for her.
I’ve also decided that I really like this book cover. Seriously, it’s stupid how much I like it, because it’s so honest that it’s going to be a romance between pretty people and a boy who wears copious amounts of makeup.
Obviously, he’ll sparkle because of all that makeup, yo.
Anyway, onto the reading!
Chapter Two
This chapter is entitled Open Book. I am amused, seeing as it’s been the first time in almost two weeks I have had time to open any book, and in the interest of murdering my brain cells through excessive gigglesnorting, I have chosen to open Twilight.
You win, book! I have indeed opened you!
In the first page of Chapter Two, I have received a summary of what to expect from the rest of the series: Bella’s already fixated on Edward, and that she’s clumsy. Apparently she tried to kill someone with a volleyball on her second day when she wasn’t busy getting hit with the thing.
She’s pretty self-deprecating as well; this isn’t necessarily a bad thing in a main character, but it’s something I noticed in Chapter One’s narrative; the girl just doesn’t view herself as anything other than, well, a crybaby with no prospects.
I like a girl with goals, yo. And a boy with goals. I just like goals.
As the story continues, Bella relates what she does during her day, which primarily focuses on why Edward isn’t around and her trying to convince herself she’s glad he’s gone. It doesn’t work, of course. This is the cheesy love/hate at first sight romance that makes me sigh–and I don’t mean in the wistful way.
I know, I know, I got engaged after two weeks to the man who is currently my spouse, but we, at least, founded our relationship on 5-6+ hours a day of talking to each other by phone and every method available to us. Not lust at first sight, friendship on first chat.
We’re not the type who dingbats around.
So, after school, she goes home and discovers her stereotypical single father is hopeless in the kitchen, so she goes to save the roost by taking over the cooking duties. They have a meal, and Bella’s dad vehemently defends the honor of the Cullen family, much to Bella’s surprise. Her mother emails, which left me giddy with relief that Bella is not nearly so useless as Anastasia Trent.
There is hope!
Dear Bella,
What the actual fuck?
Edward is in school today, and it’s the first snowfall you’ve seen. You’re so… something… over Edward you’re ready to puke on Jessica. What is the matter with you?
Yours,
RJ
What really surprises me is, at this stage in the game, I actually like Edward. He’s treating Bella like a lady at this point; respectful, inquisitive, and looking to be genuinely interested in her and her situation. Bella I still don’t like, but Edward? Yeah, I don’t mind him as a character at all. I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll be reading this book to see what Edward does, while I simultaneously desire to burn Bella to a crisp.
Maybe the lure of this book isn’t in Bella at all, but rather the keen desire to eliminate her so that a more suitable female might be found for the drop dead gorgeous, sparkly vampire.
I am supposed to be making fun of this book, but honestly, if Bella wasn’t such an annoyance, I’d like this story a lot. Bella is the only thing ruining the book for me so far.
I guess that’s a pretty notable complaint, seeing that the entire book is founded around her. Maybe I don’t like Bella, but the side characters are all pretty interesting, even her Police Chief father. She has a good life going on for her, and I feel that she’s too stupid (or something ruder…) to be able to take advantage of all of the good things she has. The moral of the story so far is absolutely terrible, and totally hits in on what I think is a modern knock at self-entitlement for an absolutely perfect life.
That pisses me off. It makes me want to breed an army of baby weasels and set them on Bella. Have you ever seen a baby weasel? They’re freaking adorable. Death by baby weasel, now that’s where the money is at, baby.
I’d like to see a strong female character in a battle of wits against Edward; give Edward something to work for, rather than having to coax the self-deprecating Bella into any form of good self-esteem.
That said, I like you, Edward. I know, I’m being irrational. It’s okay, though. Don’t tell anyone this dark, dirty secret, but I do want to find something I enjoy about these stories I’m Play by Play reading.
The end of Chapter Two involved Edward playing psychologist for Bella as they worked together in a science lab. Bella certainly needs a shrink, in my not-so-humble opinion.
Poor Edward. You need a hug.
General verdict: It’s almost shameful that I am enjoying this book to a certain degree. Will it make my list of favorite books? Hell no. But is this a bad book?
No, it isn’t. Meyers isn’t going to win any awards for floral writing, for beautiful prose, or staggering dialogue… but she’s easy to read, the book is not littered with errors, and while I feel Bella is a complete and total waste of space, she has characterization. She’s a person.
There was one questionable bit in this chapter, and I only call it questionable because I would have used Luckily instead of Lucky.
I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the brake in time.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (p. 52). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
Anyway, back on subject, Bella’s characterization is admirable, in the sense she’s consistent. She’s not a person I like, but she’s a person. More importantly, those with her are also people.
Maybe it isn’t ‘quality’ writing, but as a gateway book into the world of fantasy? Yes, this is a perfectly fine book, written for a young teenager crowd, but one that also touches on adults as we take a walk back in time through what high school was like. This book probably resonates really well with every single student ever who has moved and transferred schools. I understood Bella; I transferred in high school once. I remember the feelings.
Unlike Bella, however, I didn’t fit in quite so well–but that’s me. I’m not the type to flutter into a new scene and become liked by many people. I liked my books. Reading was my thing, as was art, and that just doesn’t relate well to the social scene.
In a way, I’m almost envious of Bella, as she instantly found a circle of friends who seem to genuinely like her. I think that’s something that touches so many of us, whether or not we want to admit we have something in common with Bella.
For that alone, I give the nod to Meyers, and I totally get why so many might like to read this sort of book with this sort of character. It hits on something so many girls want; acceptance, and the attention of someone who genuinely seems like a nice guy, even though he has a dark side to him too.
If Edward abuses her, I’m gonna be pissed. Like, throw shit pissed.
March 10, 2015
Random Rambles: The Start of a Novel
In the past few months, all of the novel projects I have started working on have shared one odd trait: The starting sentences of each of them came from the second or third page of the draft, or a thought born of something on one of those pages.
In one case, the starting sentence came into being thanks to a thought I was chasing regarding something a little later in the original scene, but got upgraded to opening paragraph material.
Since I’m not quite awake enough yet to do serious work, I thought I’d share a bit about each of these projects and how they got their opening lines/paragraphs. Of course, these openers are subject to editorial changes, but they’re what I have now.
Rider of the Sun Horse
Was it suicide, murder, or both if he obeyed his king, sending those under his command to their inevitable, bloody deaths? Lars stared at the letter in his hand, willing the orders to change. They didn’t.
I really love this opener because it makes me–the author of the bloody thing–ask so many questions. Hopefully, if I’m left asking questions, so are my readers. What sort of person is Lars? Why is he in this situation?
Most importantly, what is he going to do about it?
That became the entire premise of the book. There are few novels I have written where the opening line resonated with the actual book so much. So yes, I opened with one of my favorite openers.
I came up with this sentence on page two or so of the original draft; it was a mix of random blurbs and dialogue and actions, that eventually grew to become an opening scene.
Project Zeta
Athene wished her mother had named her Phoenix so she might rise from Earth’s ashes and be reborn among the stars.
This opening line came in about halfway through the first page of the handwritten version. Because I’m a sucker for punishment, I’m including a very bad cell phone photograph of the opening page of Project Zeta.
If you click the image, you’ll be able to read it, but the opening line was worked from the highlighted section in the middle of the page, the one with the blue highlighter notation near it.
This is a pretty good example of a handwritten opening page for me, as I do a lot of mental work as I write out the story in one of my journals. More often than not, what I write by hand is not what makes it into the computer. It’s a skeleton for me to work from, helping me gather my thoughts and find the actual story in there somewhere.
Sometimes it works out where what was written on the page is actually what ends up in the computer, but usually not. Project Zeta is a hybrid of these two. A lot of what is written on the page did make it into the computer, but I added a lot of substance as I worked on it, too.
Blood Diamond
The world was full of corpses, and I, Emmett Jackson, knew them by name. Unfortunately for me, my brother knew I knew.
That’d teach me to tell my twin any of my secrets.
This one was weird; the opening line has been kicking around in my head a while; I knew I wanted to include this concept in the book–the entire book was founded on this idea. But originally, it was meant to be a kicker for a scene, not the opening sentence.
It worked its way right to the beginning of the novel. Actually, I had what I’d consider the closest thing to writer’s block I’ve had in years, all because of this line. Because I didn’t know where I wanted to put the line, I didn’t work on the project. (I needed a break from Witch & Wolf anyway, so it worked out well…)
This line has been haunting me since I was working on Winter Wolf, in case you’re curious. I had it kicking around in my head from the day I started outlining Blood Diamond, which was approximately three days after I had finished outlining Winter Wolf.
Evolulite
This novel has been a royal pain in my ass. Seriously, it’s a royal pain. Beyond royal, really. Originally, I meant to write it as a singular third person POV Science Fiction. It’s now a dual-POV third person Sci Fi.
This is the original opener, which I don’t like all that much as a starter for the entire book; it’s fine for the starter of a character, but it doesn’t have the umph I want for the book.
Jas checked over his shoulder yet again, but there was no one there to notice him next to the gap in the city’s wall. The damp of the jungle beyond hung in the air, filling his nose with the heady scent of wild foliage and moist soil. The promise of heat and sticky humidity clung to him, warning him of what awaited him outside of Lyal’s walls and its air-filtering shields.
Fortunately for me, Morik came around almost halfway through Jas’s entire story arc. That’s right, I wrote half of Evolulite before deciding there was actually two main characters, and the story was as much about Morik as it was about Jas. If anything, it’s more about Morik and the Veloc than it is about the young Zetaterran who gets caught up in the big, violent world of space pirates and grubby planet busters.
I don’t actually have this typed up yet, so you’re getting treated to another craptastic cellphone capture of the first page.
Suckers.
I’ll admit, I’m slightly disturbed I’ve almost filled two moleskine journals with this story and I’m not halfway done what I was planning for it. Oops. I don’t want to make this one a multi-book set, so it’ll likely be one really, really long novel.
Curse Morik, anyway. He’s one of my favorite characters ever to write, and he isn’t even human. Okay, well, he’s got a human relative somewhere down the line, but that’s a different story.
So in the case of this one, I didn’t get the opening sequence until I was almost halfway done the book. Go me.
Writing is hard.
And last but not least…
The Black Fox
Yes, I am aware that the title sucks. I’ll try to think of something better, but I had to call the story something, and that’s what I got so far. Neeener.
In this one, I got the starter line from the second page of my handwritten whatsits.
Thanks to the modern marvels of cell phone technology, you’re getting a photograph of the original page one–before I looked over page two and realized my first sentence was actually on the next page.
This is a classic example of how I write really crappy opening sequences in order to get a feel for a brand new character and the situation they, in this case, a woman, is in.
The current premise of the opener is this:
“f Vera was doomed to be sold into slavery, she’d do so by choice, not because of the whims of her parents. It wasn’t her fault that her father had squandered their family’s wealth in a series of failed trading ventures, each more absurd than the last. Why should she be used as currency to pay off his debt?
Or some such… which is much better than the drivel written on the first page, if you ask me.
Welcome to my brain space. Have a pleasant stay.
March 2, 2015
Random Rambles: Confessions of a Developing Author
When I released my first novel, my target goal as ‘good enough.’ I’m not sure if I’m ashamed of this, in retrospect, or proud of the fact I had the guts to go forward despite not being the best I could be.
This post is a ramble, where I will discuss my development as an author and the things I’ve done to improve my writing quality.
The ‘good enough’ I described above is not good enough. It was a start, not a finish. I’ve talked about how I progressed as a write up until the point I released The Eye of God. I haven’t, however, discussed very much about what I’ve done to develop my skills as an author.
There’s a difference–a very real and frightening one. In a way, I feel like my writing was like the image above: a sketch, a concept, or a basic guideline for the author I am now–and hopefully a starting place for the author I will be as I grow over the years.
I’m not there yet.
When I read The Eye of God now, I often find myself wincing over what I had once been quite proud of. Maybe my eye has gotten more discerning. The reality is that I have improved thanks to my editorial staff, and thanks to my personal efforts. I cringe a bit admitting this because it isn’t a humble statement. It is the truth, though, and I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t acknowledge that I have been putting a lot of effort in improving my writing.
I noticed the first jump in quality when I wrote Storm Without End. The writing was just smoother. It wasn’t perfect, though. I had some bad habits that I didn’t start addressing until I wrote Inquisitor. However, I have adjusted some tiny things in Storm Without End. Each time I read over one of the old novels, I make small changes and fixes to try to bring the quality up to my current standards–without actually changing the story.
I swore I wouldn’t rewrite a novel out from under my fans’ noses, and I intend to keep that promise. That said, the next time The Eye of God does update, there will be some substantial differences, including smoothed out writing, some tweaks to action sequences so they read better, and inclusions of expanded characterization (in terms of immediate thought processes.) I have no idea how long this will take me, but I want to bring The Eye of God up a little higher. I’m not happy with it.
But that’s a price I pay for improving. What was once good isn’t any more. It’s also my burden to bear. It didn’t just happen, though.
Reviews I received on The Eye of God played a part. I want to be better and better and better. That’s just a part of who I am. I want to tell stories people love reading. That means I can’t just be happy with acceptable or good enough. I want to get better.
Experience really helps too, but a great deal of my improvement is thanks to my editors, who keep forcing me to try to make my writing even better.
It wasn’t until I started inputting Storm Surge into my computer and passing things over to my editor that I noticed a significant difference between Storm Without End and Storm Surge.
My editor noticed, too. My writing quality has gone up; it’s harder for her to pinpoint things to improve. There are significantly fewer errors before the file gets to her. There are a lot fewer awkward sentences. This is making the work a lot easier on both of us.
My proofing editor hasn’t gotten back to me yet, but I’m holding hope there are very few errors in what is sent over. I’ve maintained for a long time that it’s impossible to write a perfect book. There will always be a better way I could have worded something. There’s bound to be a stray comma or period somewhere. I have a poor relationship with stray spaces. They usually crop up at the end of a paragraph, which drives my editor positively batty.
It’s having interesting consequences for Blood Diamond and Project Zeta as well. My drafting quality is improving, and I’ve been far more careful with readings than I was before. The way I write has changed. I’m far pickier for certain things.
I’ve discovered that my quantity doesn’t really change if I slow down and fix things as I go. If anything, my quantity goes up overall, as I don’t have nearly as many self-esteem issues. By fixing the problems I know are there, I’m able to concentrate on the new words a lot better. It’s very strange. Once upon a time, I couldn’t do that. If I tried to edit while I wrote, I would run in circles chasing after my own tail.
It has now become an integral part of my process. It doesn’t cost me a whole lot of time as I transcribe… and it saves me a great deal of time later.
All I can do at this point is hope that I haven’t reached the top of my mountain. I want to get better… and I want to tell stories people fall in love with so much they tell their friends about it.
Yeah, I want to be one of those authors, and I’m totally not ashamed of it. I don’t know if I’ll ever succeed, but I’m going to give it my all.
That’s the only thing I’m willing to do. If I fail, it won’t be because I didn’t try. It won’t be because I didn’t put in the effort. I can live with bad luck.
I can’t live with sitting on my laurels doing nothing.
And since I promised confessions, here are a few for your amusement:
The cat puked on the floor this morning next to the bed and I left it for my husband to find. His cat did it, okay?!
I splurged on red hair dye and girlie nailpolish today. If I’m not careful, people might suspect I’m actually a woman.
I don’t want to give my friend’s car back. I’ve named her The Beast. I also call her the Manning Mobile. I love her dearly. She’s a part of the family, yo. She’s the older sister of my baby Corolla.
I failed so hard at quitting sugar this weekend that I’m hungover from sugar today.
I talk to other drivers, giving a running commentary on how well they drive. Sometimes I do this with passengers in the car with me. Sometimes I will critique myself when I do something stupid.
When I don’t have people over, clothing is optional. My house, my rules!
I think I’m ugly, no matter how often others tell me I’m full of shit. Self-esteem issues, yo.
If the amount of time spent singing in the bathtub was equal to skill and talent, I’d be a rockstar, baby. I’m not.
I like sleeping more than almost anything else in my life. If sleeping were an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist.
I hate tripe. When tripe enters my mouth, I spit it out. If I was midway through swallowing when said tripe was discovered, I throw up. Yuck.
I have an irrational love of sour cream. And tacos. And onions. And garlic. If it’s a gassy food, chances are I love it.
Regarding point 11… I’ve made the cats and my husband leave the room before. I considered this a crowning moment of my marriage and life.
March 1, 2015
The Soundtrack to Blood Diamond
I have a very strange relationship with music. I don’t buy much music… but I don’t listen to much music, either. I tend to buy the music I listen to. I’m far more likely to buy music directly from the artist than I am from a label, but I’ll buy from a label (in form of a cd typically) if I must.
I’m an author. I like being paid for my work. Therefor, I like paying musicians for their work as well.
Blood Diamond is a really interesting book. Like my other novels, there’s definitely a bit of a soundtrack for it. I sometimes use music to capture the overall theme of a story. Sometimes the sounds just work for the novel.
Unlike some of the other stories I have worked on, Blood Diamond’s soundtrack is quite a bit shorter than my other novels so far.
Because of that, and because of the fact I’ve been asked what I listen to while I write (and why), I’m going to take the time to discuss each of the songs and why they’re being used for Blood Diamond’s soundtrack.
Here’s a list of the songs. Scroll to see the whys to each of the songs on the soundtrack!
Just Give Me a Reason: P!nk
U + Ur Hand: P!nk
Try: P!nk
That’s The Way It Is: Celine Dion
Manners Maketh Man: Kingsman Soundtrack
A Thousand Years: Christina Perri (Bonus: The Piano Guys version.)
Song #1: Just Give Me a Reason by P!nk
You’ll notice an immediate trend: P!nk has been heavily involved with the creation of Blood Diamond, so much so that I’ll be buying complete albums instead of the typical mp3 purchases I do.
In Blood Diamond, Jackson’s wife died five years prior to the start of the novel along with their unborn child. This is something established fairly early in the novel.
This has impacted the character pretty significantly. While he isn’t a Fenerec, he took his vows to his wife seriously.
Some of Jackson’s friends definitely view him as broken as a result. It just struck a chord with me, and as a result, with the book as a whole.
I’ve definitely been exploring the consequences of someone who holds such devotion to a single person, and the type of woman it would take to break down the walls he built to protect his wife’s memory–and to protect himself from being hurt like that again.
Song #2: U + Ur Hand by P!nk
That’s right, it’s another P!nk song. This song really baffles me as a part of Blood Diamond’s soundtrack. It doesn’t really fit any specific character, but I think it has a lot to say about the attitude of certain female characters in the series.
I think, perhaps, it contains a certain attitude I’d like to infuse some of my characters with.
I think I’ll chalk this one up to the attitude of the song, which I love.
Song #3: Try by P!nk
While I’m listing this song third in the line up, it’s the true main theme of this novel. It fits Jackson, Evelyn, and many of the characters so well. It fits what they’ll experience and what they’ll endure to try to keep each other safe while they do what they must do to survive.
This video is really evocative, so if you’re bothered by powerful imagery, especially with a bit of a sexual slant, I’d just listen to the song and avoid watching the video.
This song really, really applies to Jackson and Evelyn. It also applies to many of the other characters, particularly Vicky (from Inquisitor.) While Nicole (from Winter Wolf) has her fair share of trials, she’s always had more of a support group, whether or not she’s really realized it.
In Blood Diamond, all of these characters meet–and sparks fly. I think this song does a really good job of capturing all of the things they go through, fight for–fight against–and overcome.
They couldn’t do this if they didn’t get back up and try again. All of them have been burned.
Song #4: That’s The Way It Is by Celine Dion
Yep, this applies to Jackson. It also applies to Jackson’s brother. What can I say? They’re twins.
It also applies to Evelyn, but perhaps not in the way you might think.
This is one of my favorite songs. It’s kind of interesting that most of the love style songs I’ve picked for Blood Diamond have been for the men.
In a complete turnabout, it’s not the women struggling with their love lives and romances. It’s the men.
The women know what–and who–they want, and they’re prepared to do what is necessary to prove themselves. It’s the men who are really gun shy in this book. Well, two men in particular.
It’s genetic. But that’s okay, I think the women in their lives are more than willing to wait on them to get their acts together–or help them along a little bit.
Hey, I’m just being honest here–women are as much predators in romance as men are. I’ve been having a great deal of fun pursuing this whole thing from the male side of things.
That said, this book isn’t really a romance–it has romance, and much stronger than in Winter Wolf or Inquisitor, but it’s not a romance as a primary. It’s as much of a thriller and an urban fantasy as it is a romance. It just happened to be that the characters in this story have a far greater need for loved ones in their lives–and the relationships born of friendship, necessity, and love.
Song #5: Manners Maketh Man, Kingsman Soundtrack
Earlier I mentioned my desire to support artists by paying for their works. All of the youtubes embedded are the official VEVOs for the artist, so while it’s not quite buying the music, it at least is a legal listen. Please listen to this clip on its amazon page. There is no official clip for this song except through a sales venue. Sorry about that!
Anyway, this song is one of my favorites from the Kingsman soundtrack. I’ll be getting this entire soundtrack on CD (well, I’m hoping. I asked for it for my birthday! If I don’t get it for my birthday, I’m buying it for myself.)
I listen to this when I’m writing action sequences or need generic music with a good beat that is suitable for big explosions.
Blood Diamond has big explosions in plenty.
Song #6: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri
People might say a lot of bad things about Twilight, but it spawned this song, which is one of my favorite love songs. Considering how devoted the Fenerec are as a species, taking the mating for life thing very seriously, and Jackson’s basic personality… I couldn’t write Blood Diamond without listening to this song a few times.
I’m also going to make a point of mentioning the other version of this song is often played when I need instrumental music versus with lyrics. The Piano Guys had to make an appearance somewhere. I always have at least one The Piano Guys song in my novel soundtrack.
I’m sure there will be other songs to work its way into my writing, but for the moment, these are the primary songs I’m listening to. I usually set a song to repeat, as it becomes inspirational background noise instead of a disruption. Switching to a new song breaks my concentration as I stop to listen to what the new song is. By repeating one song over and over and over, I avoid this disruption.
I’d like to point out that I’ve listened to some of these songs, quiet literally, thousands of times. I can sing along to them while writing. (It’s true, I’ll be singing, not even notice I’m singing, while typing away at a book.)
I sing a lot. It hasn’t made me a better singer. But I’ll spare you from my cawing, as no one deserves that. Well, except for my husband, but he agreed to it when he married me. It doesn’t seem to have caused him any real lasting harm.
Does music impact my writing? Certainly, to some degree or another. But my music choices are often a reflection of what I’m writing, not the other way around. I can’t pick a song to create a mood I want in my writing. I pick the songs because I already have the mood brought about because of the writing.
I can’t force a mood. Never could, never will–it’s not me, and it’s not how I write.
But I do find music that matches what I already feel, and that I hope I’m expressing in my stories.
Winter Wolf on Sale!
For those in the US and other eligible countries, Winter Wolf is now on a special countdown deals promotion. You can acquire a copy for $0.99 between March 1 and March 5, 2015. If you’re a little late to the show, you can acquire a copy for $2.99 before it reverts back to full on March 7, 2015. (I’ve been told you can gift copies of the book to friends at the promotional price, too, if you love the book and want to share it with others!)
To sweeten the deal for you, Inquisitor is available as a free promotion!
Grab your copies today!
If you love my books, please consider sharing news of this offer with your book-loving friends.
Here’s a bit about the books:
Inquisitor, Book 1 of the Witch & Wolf series:
When Allison is asked to play Cinderella-turned-Fianceé at a Halloween ball, the last thing she expected was to be accused of murder. She has to find the killer or she’ll be put to death for the crimes she didn’t commit. To make matters worse, the victims are all werewolves.
On the short list of potential victims, Allison has to act fast, or the killer will have one more body to add to his little black book of corpses.
There’s only one problem: One of the deaths has struck too close to home, and Allison’s desire for self-preservation may transform into a quest for vengeance…
Winter Wolf, Book 2 of the Witch & Wolf series:
When Nicole dabbled in the occult, she lost it all: Her voice, her family, and her name. Now on the run from the Inquisition, she must prove to herself—and the world—that not all wizards are too dangerous to let live.
The savage murder of a bookstore employee throws Nicole into the middle of Inquisition business, like it or not. Driven by her inability to save the young man’s life, she decides to hunt the killer on her own. Using forbidden magic to investigate the past, she learns that the murderer is in fact a disease that could kill the entire werewolf race.
Forced to choose between saving lives and preserving her own, Nicole embraces the magic that sent her into exile. Without werewolves, the power of the Inquisition would dwindle, and she could live without being hunted.
Nicole’s only hope for success lies in the hands of the werewolves she hates and the Inquisition she fears, but finding someone to trust is only the beginning of her problems. There are those who want to ensure that the werewolves go extinct and that the Inquisition falls.
But, if she fails to find a cure, her family—including her twin sister—will perish…
February 28, 2015
Inquisitor available for free, February 28-March 1!
Hey, folks! Free book alert! The first novel of my urban fantasy series, Inquisitor, is available for free on amazon today. Go grab yourself a copy and tell your friends.
Tomorrow, March 1, Winter Wolf will be on sale through a countdown deals promotion, so don’t miss your chance to get the second installment of the Witch & Wolf series at a great price.
When Allison is asked to play Cinderella-turned-Fianceé at a Halloween ball, the last thing she expected was to be accused of murder. She has to find the killer or she’ll be put to death for the crimes she didn’t commit. To make matters worse, the victims are all werewolves.
On the short list of potential victims, Allison has to act fast, or the killer will have one more body to add to his little black book of corpses.
There’s only one problem: One of the deaths has struck too close to home, and Allison’s desire for self-preservation may transform into a quest for vengeance…
From Chapter One
“A Halloween party with your mother, Mark? Have you lost your mind? She’s never going to believe we’re a couple, for one. Two, you live in New York City. I live in Atlanta. You know, that place you flew me in from? She’s got no reason to believe us.”
“I might have told her that you are an old college friend, and we’d been seeing each other on and off since we got our degrees. It’s even true, just not for the reasons she thinks. Come on, Allison. It’s only for one night. You’ll save me from marrying a woman I’ve never met.”
I sighed. “Seriously? Did your mother have you betrothed or something? That’s so two hundred years ago. At least you had the decency to book me into a good hotel. How did you manage a room at the Plaza on such short notice?” Using my brown bangs as a shield, I stared at my friend. He grinned wolfishly.
“Who said it was on short notice? I had our room booked six months ago.”
I tripped over my own feet. A startled cry worked its way out of my throat. Mark’s arm slapped against my chest as he caught me. With a low grunt, he hauled me upright. “Careful.”
My face burned. “Sorry.” I drew a deep breath. Killing Mark in Central Park wouldn’t work—not during the daytime. There’d be too many witnesses. “Our room?”
“We’re twenty five. We’re young, healthy adults. There’s no way my ma will believe we’re a couple if we don’t share a room,” he replied. He leveled a scandalous leer in my direction, his gaze taking all of me in.
I flushed. “You have a perfectly nice condo, Mark. I’ve seen it. Why not invite me there instead of booking us a room in one of New York’s more expensive hotels?”
“Wait until you see the room,” Mark said. Then he waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.
I closed my eyes, stood straight, and once again shoved my hands into my back pockets. No tail. That was a start. I counted to ten. Then I counted to ten again.
When that didn’t calm me down enough, I systematically considered all of Mark’s banking accounts I could probably hack my way into, calculating how much I could siphon off without him noticing. I wouldn’t do it, but the figure made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
When I managed to quell my urge to throttle my friend, I opened my eyes and glared at him. “You reserved the honeymoon suite, didn’t you?”
February 27, 2015
Play by Play Review: Twilight, Chapter 1
While making fun of Fifty Shades of Grey should probably classify as an Olympic sport, it seems a little unfair to rip at a slightly reworded fan fiction without taking aim at the source material. Thus enters Twilight by Stephanie Meyers.
I have not read the book. I have not seen the movie.
So begins the end–of what? I guess we’ll find out by the time I’m done this. I have no idea if there will be trigger subjects in the book. Honestly, the only thing I know about this novel is that some vampires decide to play baseball and one of them mated with a bottle of glitter for some reason… or something like that.
Honestly, I’m expecting to enjoy this book much more than Fifty Shades of Grey. Don’t worry, however. I will strive to ensure my snark is not leashed or restrained during the reading of this book.
In Fifty Shades, Ana is Bella and Christian Grey is supposed to be Whatever-the-hell-the-Vampire’s-Name-Is. Scum Sucker is apparently the werewolf.
I am not even sure how that’s supposed to work, but whatever. Here I go.
Preface
I hate prefaces, prologues, and things like that. On rare occasion, I enjoy them. This usually happens when the prologue or preface really doesn’t have anything to do with the book’s events… directly. Take David Edding’s introductions to the Belgariad. I enjoyed those.
George R. R. Martin, while I really dislike his writing and I hate the books (and the show,) I have to admit that he got the right idea with his prologue. If you’re going to include one, that’s the ideal way to go about it.
Shh, don’t tell anyone I admitted that. My pride is at stake.
I have no idea what this preface is about. Apparently there is a hunter who is about to kill the unnamed first-person protagonist. Apparently, they are doing so because they want to, for the sake of someone else. I can buy into that, good cause and all.
Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something.
I knew that if I’d never gone to Forks, I wouldn’t be facing death now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations , it’s not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Locations 46-50). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
I’m not a fan of the writing so far, but it’s much better than Fifty Shades of Grey. I’m only judging this from the half a page of Preface, which really rather makes me want to throw up in my mouth.
I hate the gimmicks where the main character dies in the Preface. It annoys me. I don’t want to get invested in a character who is just going to keel over and die on me.
This isn’t boding well for the protagonist’s self-preservation skills. Is Bella as clumsy as Ana? Is it possible to be as clumsy as Ana?
Oh, God. I haven’t even read the first real page of the book and I’m already worried.
Chapter 1
And so it begins. My favorite word of the day is trepidation, with which I approach this novel. It comes as a shock, of the pleasant sort, that I am not swallowing nails on the first page. It’s a bit telly, rambling over details as inconsequential as the town she’s moving to.
Bella is weird. She addresses her Mom as Mom, but her father as Charlie. This threw me off, and kind of made me think Charlie was a molester or something rather than her dad–Police Chief Dad, for that matter.
I have learned more about Forks, Washington than I ever want to know in the first page, and by the time I learned it, she hadn’t even left Arizona yet.
At least the narrator doesn’t make me want to beat her to death with a flaming riding crop yet. That’s something, right?
Anyway, here’s a taste of the weirdness of Bella as a narrator:
“It’s good to see you, Bells,” he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. “You haven’t changed much. How’s Renée?”
Mom’s fine. It’s good to see you, too, Dad.” I wasn’t allowed to call him Charlie to his face.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Locations 80-82). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
Did I mention I really like the automatic kindle crediting thing going on here?
Okay, so, I’m learning more about Forks than I ever wanted to know, and I’m being told exactly what to expect of Bella’s relationship with her father. No, I refuse to call him Charlie. It’s Dad or Mr. Police Officer Man, or “Oh, fuck, did he see me speeding?” but not Charlie. Nope.
Christian Grey’s helicopter is named Charlie Tango. Now I can’t get the mental image of Ana riding Bella’s father in the air.
Suffer with me, mere mortals.
Bella’s dad bought her a cute antique truck. It’s red, and it sounds really cute, and she has good tastes in liking it. Thus far, Bella is a far superior human being to Ana. I actually have something in common with Bella–this truck. Old Chevy trucks are adorable, okay? They’re kind of like VW Beetles, the old ones. They just exude this sort of primitive charm.
The first chapter of this book, so far, is boring me into a numbed state of acceptance. Perhaps Fifty Shades of Grey beat out my will to live, but after reading that garbage, this really isn’t that bad.
Except the whole nothing has really happened in this book so far except exposition. And I really don’t want to know another thing about Forks, Washington. Seriously, I don’t.
Okay, thanks Twilight. I opened my mouth, and here you go making me eat my words. You couldn’t even let me live through one chapter without proving me wrong, could you?
I take back everything I said about Bella that was positive. She ruined it with this line:
I wasn’t in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Location 128). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
Why, why, oh why must she be a crybaby damsel. Why, why, oh why? Why did I get my hopes up for a girl who could actually go to a new school without crybabying over the fact she was going?
Note, in the previous sentence, she was letting herself indulge in a few tears while watching it rain outside of her window.
Sigh.
Oh no, oh no, oh no… she’s going to be as bad as Ana, isn’t she?
I didn’t have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself — and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Locations 135-136). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
This fills me with complete and total foreboding–the sort where I grab the port bottle without a glass and start drinking to numb away the pain. I’m tempted, but I don’t want to go to my friend’s house hungover.
Though frankly, I could use a drink or three. A cat jumped out in front of me while I was driving my friends home, and I had to hit the brakes so hard I left rubber streaked on the road. The cat emerged unscathed.
Interlude aside, at least in Bella’s opening, she’s just crying to herself that she won’t make friends because she’s Irish pale and isn’t allowed to hit the Bailey’s yet to numb her to the realities of high school.
So she has an evening of crying, her dad goes to work. He’s established as a workaholic. I learned even more about Forks, Washington, and I’m fringing on trying to figure out how to start the zombie apocalypse in the town, seeing as I really don’t care about it that much to be subjected to this much rambling from the narrator about it.
I got it about four pages ago that you’re not keen on anything to do with this town, your father, or any reminder you might possibly be a human. Sigh.
Your redeeming quality, at this point, is the fact you like your truck. It’s cute, girl, I’ll give you that much. Too bad your trying-really-hard-when-you’re-not daddy bought it for you.
No one was going to bite me.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Location 189). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
That’s what you think, Vampire Bait, that’s what you think. Dull Girl, Dull Girl, Whatcha Gonna Do, Whatcha Gonna Do, Glitter’s Comin’ for You…
I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Location 220). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
Noooooo, oh God, noooo! It’s just as bad as Fifty Shades, but instead of falling over her own feet into the arms of a sexy bazillionaire, she does it going to her desk.
Why? Whhhhhy?
Do not make me scold you, novel. I will. I will sit here in this little chair of mine and continuously scold you. I will make you rue and lament your basic existence as I delve into the depths of my vocabulary for words to best describe how much I loathe and abhor you.
At this point in time, I have absolutely zero doubt in my mind that Ana was directly ripped from Bella’s basic personality. Bella, at least, has no issues dressing herself or brushing her hair. That makes her far more tolerable, in my not-so-humble opinion.
At this point, she is beginning her first day of school, and it’s as you expect: everyone is curious about her. She’s awkward as all fuck, too. It’s a little cute. If she hadn’t been crying in her room the night before for no reason I can really figure out, I’d probably like her.
I don’t get along well with protagonists who cry without reason. Nails on chalkboard, okay?
Is this chapter over yet? According to this meter, I’m already 4% into the novel. Oh no, please don’t make this one of those books where a chapter is like 20% of the book. I need a chance to give my brain cells CPR.
In good news, the writing is not nearly as terrible as I was expecting. It’s actually decent. It’s bland, but it’s tolerable. I haven’t really wanted to subject Earth to cataclysm as a result of reading this title yet.
So far, however, my impression of Bella is that she’s completely helpless.
That said, and please don’t hate me for saying this, but the actress who played her in the movie is really cute, in that adorable doll sort of way. I think she’s pretty. And I prefer thinking of the actress rather than the Irish pale, lose-her-on-a-white-beach complexion described.
One thing that’s driving me insane about this book is the description quality. It hurts us, precious. It’s stuff like this, in huge, headache-inducing paragraphs:
I stared because their faces , so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine .
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Locations 242-244). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
I have a pair of scissors and a knife and an army of Abyssal Demon Plushies. I can help with your problem, Bella.
Oh, hi inconsistent narrator, we meet again. Hold on, I seem to have run out of matches, and to make matters worse, my spare supply of gasoline is out. Give me a few minutes.
At this point, Bella is talking with an unknown girl, she can’t remember names, or purposefully decides they’re beneath her. Then, randomly, this comes up:
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I’d been sitting alone.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Locations 286-287). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
So now you suddenly, magically remember their names? Argh, don’t just… gah. Oh, whatever. It’s still a better story than Fifty Shades of Grey.
It’s not nearly as bad as I have been led to believe so far, except for the fact I already dislike Bella. She comes across as helpless, although that’s entirely due to the cry babying from moving to Forks–of her own volition.
At this point, Edward has a pretty strong (negative) reaction to her, but everyone else in the school is super nice to her. I mean, if people had been collectively this nice to me in school, I would have gone home and cried out of happiness.
Her? Not so much.
I survived the chapter, but I’m convinced that you could give this woman every good thing in life, and she would cry thinking she’d been given the short straw, and that her life sucked.
Argh.
I’ll leave you with the concluding bit of this chapter.
But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie’s house, fighting tears the whole way there.
Meyer, Stephenie (2007-07-18). Twilight (The Twilight Saga Book 1) (Kindle Locations 353-354). Little, Brown Books for Young Readers. Kindle Edition.
You have absolutely nothing to cry about, Bella. Grow up. Please. Preferably before I discover some way to reach into your fictional novel world and bitch slap some sense into you.
You had a great day, except for tripping over your feet that one time and Edward being creepy. Geeze.
General verdict after chapter 1: Bella’s an annoying emo. Edward looks like an annoying emo with a bad temperament.
They were obviously meant for each other because they have similar skin tones. :chews on her desk:
A Play by Play Book Review: Fifty Shades of Grey, Chapter Eleven
Fifty Sighs of Shame, we meet again.
Wait, sorry, Fifty Shades of Grey. By this point, it shouldn’t come to a surprise to any of you that this novel is as much as a horror show as ‘everyone’ says. That said, I’m going to point out one thing about this novel many people might be neglecting to mention:
It’s so bad it’s good. Yeah, I went there. It’s got a high amount of amusement value, simply because it is that bad. It’s transcended badness to epic level, thus becoming something very easy to laugh at. I’d say laugh with, but I’d be happy if the characters were severed into multiple parts, ala Ghost Ship.
Just don’t eat the Ana kabobs, I’m not convinced you won’t catch a serious and lethal case of stupid.
It’s time for a quick recap of the story for those new to this review series.
Ana is stupid. Ana should have died in the hardware store she worked at because she’s so clumsy. The saws should have done us all a favor and jumped right off the shelf and ended our misery. Christian Grey, super rich elite guy, falls head over heels for the incompetent Ana and wants to dominate her. Ana can’t think of anything beyond how to get into Mr. Grey’s pants.
Mr. Grey gets mad when Scum Sucker calls Ana. Scum Sucker attempted to rape Ana. Ana was the first woman Mr. Grey introduced to his mother.
Ana doesn’t know how to use the Internet.
There’s sex, and it’s comedy gold because it’s that poorly written. (There are, however, a few interesting things present that might be worth trying.)
If I listed all of the times Ana failed to rub her two brain cells together and get a current going, I wouldn’t get a chance to start reading chapter eleven.
As always, there is trigger subjects discussed in this review.
Chapter Eleven
Opening the book helps when trying to read.
117 of 356 pages into the book and I finally get a glimpse of the contract.
I worked a job where my day-to-day responsibilities included reading contracts for stupidity. I don’t want to read another damned contract in my life. I want to burn this book with the fires of hell and volcanoes. I want to just chuck my entire computer into an active caldera just to watch it burn.
Do I really have to read this?
What the actual fuck. I mean seriously, what the fuck? Why is this damned thing in here? This is not fun. This is not entertaining. This is an obnoxious waste of my time.
The contract is, I kid you the fuck not, six pages long. I am not reading this. Sorry, I’m not. I scrolled by it. This is so full of pointless jargon that it’s not even worth considering as a viable bondage contract (which are non-legal, for the record) as to be laughable, and it’s so over the top that the only thing it’s good for is kindling.
Here’s just a sample of what’s in the contract. It goes on and on and on like this for six pages. Did I mention it’s something like six pages long? And I’m pretty sure it’d be closer to ten or twelve pages if I were reading on my kindle paperwhite.
16 The Submissive shall not participate in activities or any sexual acts that either party deems to be unsafe or any activities detailed in Appendix 2.
17 The Dominant and the Submissive have discussed the activities set out in Appendix 3 and recorded in writing on Appendix 3 their agreement in respect of them.
My Abyssal army is staring at me, and I can see the question in their big, glittery eyes.
Yes, my preciouses… soon. Soon, I will send you out for the souls of these wretched mortals.
Six pages, people. Six pages.
I’d like to make a note that the safe words chose were the colors yellow and red. These are absolutely terrible safe words. You want something that can’t be accidentally used during kinky sex. You know, because a swat with a crop will leave temporary red marks (and potentially non-temporary marks…)
These things are red.
I can’t even. What the actual fuck?
On behalf of the entire modern world, Fifty Shades of Grey, fuck you. Fuck you to the depths of the darkest hell you can find. May you be encased in ice for ten thousand years before being dropped into the heart of a volcano and ejected into outer space, where you are subjected to death by collision course with the sun.
The Mac laptop is sleek and silver and rather beautiful. It has a very large screen. Christian Grey likes scale – I think of his living area, in fact, his whole apartment.
“It’s got the latest OS and a full suite of programs, plus a one-point-five terabyte hard drive so you’ll have plenty of room, thirty-two gigs of RAM – what are you planning to use it for?
“Uh… email.”
The tech was ready to weep for the entire universe too.
It only got worse from here, but I figure only one of us (me) needs to suffer.
Do yourself a favor and just skip this chapter together. If you can’t skip it, print it, douse it in gasoline, and light it on fire.
She learns to email with Christian Grey, who replies to her for a while. It’s coy and it’s disgustingly cute and playful, and I want to light them and the advance-released macbook pro on fire.
Sometimes, you just want to watch the world burn, okay? Go ahead and judge me.
So, she goes to work and Scum Sucker gets her to meet with him, and my faith in the known universe is shattered completely.
This is, I kid you not, almost the entirety of her meeting with Scum Sucker. I cut two tiny paragraphs. Because, you know, these were the important ones. You know, after a lot of stalker-style phone calls, calling everyone about her, and otherwise being a true arse.
As we stroll to the local coffee shop, I slip my arm through José’s. I’m so grateful for his – normality. Someone I know and understand.
“Hey Ana,” he murmurs. “You’ve really forgiven me?”
“José, you know I can never stay mad at you for long.”
He grins.
I hate you and everything you represent, Ana. Look at you, graduating from never having held hands to linking your arm with your would-be rapist.
You’re insufferable, Ana, absolutely insufferable.
Forgive and forget like this is a great way to end up in a bed you don’t want to be on–with someone who won’t take no for an answer. There’s a point where you need to protect yourself, and doing this sort of idiotic shit is not smart. A lady should be able to wear what she wants without any worry of a man (or another woman) doing anything the lady doesn’t want…
… but there comes a point where the lady must take responsibility for her own safety. Sticking around with someone like this is not taking responsibility. Cut that shit out of your life and go to someone who actually respects you.
Even if it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done, do it. If you need help doing it, be it because you’re scared or you feel alone, ask.
There are lots of people, yes, including strangers, who would be willing to help. Help’s only a phone call away, and there are lots of programs to help women and men get out of these situations.
I’m not saying it’d be easy–but you are worth it, and don’t let any worthless motherfucker tell you otherwise.
I stand by everything I’ve said before this review: This book is a guide on what not to do if you want to be healthy and happy.
Ana starts using wikipedia to research submissive relationships with a dominant, and thus ends chapter eleven.
I’m so having a soda with dinner tonight. I think I’ve earned it. But, hey!! Check this out, yo. I survived the chapter with minimal damage to my IQ. Woooohoo!
Hey, like these posts? When I’m not making snarky commentary on books, I’m a writer. Please consider checking out my fantasy (non-erotic, sorry!) titles. Science fiction is coming soon! Buy one (or five…) for yourself or a friend–or if you’re super awesome, for yourself and a friend. 
What? If Ana can be so shameless, so can I, right??
February 26, 2015
A Play by Play Book Review: Fifty Shades of Grey, Chapter Ten
It is with trepidation I face you once more, Fifty Shades of Grey. But this day, I have done something Ana cannot; I brushed my hair and put it in a ponytail without drama or effort.
It is good to be a capable woman who owns a brush.
I’m starting this play by play review a lot later in the evening than I like. Reason One: This might be the last thing I do before bed. That’s traumatizing. I might have to make some time to do something else just so I don’t go to sleep with those yicky mental images and scary words rattling about in my brain space.
I guess it is too much to ask for this chapter to be a distinct improvement over the rest of the book, isn’t it? I should have known. I’ve been warned–repeatedly–that all that will come from my reading this novel is pain and suffering.
And hideous uncontrollable laughter. Because we can’t write a review of this book without at least some of that, right?
I’m doing this cold turkey. No tea, no sugar, no cookies, no salad, no food. It’s me and me and me. And my army of six abyssal plushies.
These abyssal plushies.
Evelyn is the fox, since I couldn’t find a red wolf abyssal plushie. She’s hanging out with Richard, my two unicorns, and my two newly acquired zebras.
Together, we will brave the dark terrors that is Fifty Shades of Grey.
The plushies will see you now.
There are triggers here, and I mean serious ones. Approach at your own risk, as always.
Chapter Ten
Sometimes I begin reading something that is so absurd that I’m immediately sucked in wondering how such a thing is even possible. That is my introductory experience to Christian Grey introducing Ana to his mother… and Mr. Grey is exceptionally eager to have this meeting.
What the actual fuck?
“Perhaps I should stay here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Christian threatens. “You can wear something of mine.” He’s slipped on a white t-shirt and runs his hand through his just-fucked hair. In spite of my anxiety, I lose my train of thought. Will I ever get used to looking at this beautiful man? His beauty is derailing.
You’re lack of intelligence is derailing. Do you want to know what you derailed, Ana? My self respect and dignity.
Yes, Leah, apparently I am a masochist. Does this count as a mental illness or an endearing quirk?
The only thing I want to derail here is you, Ana, right off a cliff.
Mr. Grey, are you maybe running to your mother to have her… save you? Right? It’s to rescue you, right? You kind of might need rescued at this point. Stupidity is contagious.
So, they have a perfectly cordial meeting with Mom.
Scum Sucker calls. Christian is pissed… understandably. Jose tries to apologize. Scum Sucker should go get taken into an alley and beaten. Apologizing isn’t nearly enough for you, Scum Sucking asshole. I hate you.
And Ana, I hate you for not having caller ID/using it. You know you can dismiss calls, right? Oh, wait, nevermind.
You don’t have a computer and don’t know how to use the internet despite being in modern times.
What the actual fuck?
Internet! I don’t have access to a computer, only Kate’s laptop, and I couldn’t use Clayton’s, not for this sort of ‘research’ surely?
I’m being serious, by the way. Completely serious. What the actual fuck?
Colleges and universities, to my knowledge, kind of entirely function around the existence of email. How did you graduate? How did you manage to survive? Do you… I…
Can you please just die sometime during this chapter, Ana, right along with your Inner Goddess? Did you grow up Amish and somehow hide this fact from us the entire novel?
I would like to note that about half a minute after I started reading Fifty Shades tonight, my husband’s cat climbed onto the printer and started howling. Now she is lying across my dominant arm, purring merrily, trying to convince me that I should pet her instead of torture myself with this bullshit chapter.
That’s right, this chapter is made of bullshit served on a silver platter–probably pure silver, because Christian Grey has more money than he has sense.
I would like to point out that instead of flying her back to Portland, he’s driving her. Because that’s efficient.
And apparently, because Christian Grey must seem to have a job, there’s an interlude about random work shit thrown randomly into the story.
Can someone hand me one of Christian’s ties? I’m pretty sure you can use these things as a murder weapon.
He drives her back to Portland in one of his fancy sport cars. I hate you all. Just give me the car and walk away, and I’ll allow you to live, fictional characters.
On the way back, Ana wants more sex, of course. So she doesn’t want to eat. Again. Because you know, she can’t seem to want real food instead of eating Christian. Because for a hand holding virgin, she’s already a sex addict.
No wonder Christian is so damned protective and possessive. He knows if he isn’t, she’ll sleep with anything that moves and happens to be male, now that she’s been properly awoken as an abyssal demoness who can’t walk a straight line and would likely fall out of the helicopter if she hadn’t been tied to the seat.
Hello my cute little abyssal plushie army. Murder her. Murder her dead! And make sure the Inner Goddess dies screaming. Get recordings.
“I’ve never slept with anyone, never had sex in my bed, never flown a girl in Charlie Tango, never introduced a woman to my mother. What are you doing to me?” His eyes burn, their intensity takes my breath away.
Stupidity is contagious and Ana is the index case. You’re not going to die from the zombie apocalypse. You’re going to, one at a time, lose all of your brain cells, until you’re a match for Ana, barely capable to rub two together while the third weeps in a corner and wants sex all of the time because there’s just no hope for the future.
Then she’ll eat you for your remaining brain cells.
Run away while you can, Christian Grey! Bring your nice cars and your antique books to me. We’re nice up here in Canada.
I guess it’s time to deal with serious conversation time. It is revealed that Christian was seduced, and in Ana’s opinion, sexually abused at age fifteen. This went on for six years.
Now Christian is the dominant.
This is pretty much a case study in abuse. But, first of all, let me make a point:
This is a fantasy. This is a fantasy where the once submissive becomes a strong, dominant man who tries to be better than his past–and who knows? He might have been entirely a willing participant. Fifteen years old doesn’t mean incapable of making decisions about sex.
I know girls who were having sex at age twelve. It’s a part of life. It wasn’t that long ago that women and men were marrying at age fourteen. You can still get married at fourteen with parental permission.
Now, granted, the woman was older, and I’m not cool with that. But whatever, this is just an erotic book. I think it’s in poor taste, but it is what it is. It isn’t meant to be a guide to life. It’s better written as a guide about what not to do in life.
I am making funny noises in real life. Imagine a dying crow cawing at the injustice of it all. You’ll probably be close to what is coming out of my throat. My husband just shot me a dirty look–and not the good kind of dirty.
And of course, because Ana is about as consistent as half cooked porridge complete with lumps, she boldly informs Christian she is wearing his boxes as she’s getting out of his car. This woman, I mean really, you’re supposedly oh-so-…. oh never mind.
If you hear ‘brains’ coming from north of the border, just run. I am coming for some undamaged brain cells. Mine seem to have short circuited.
Ana, you’re a terrible submissive. Christian shouldn’t even want you, you don’t respect any of the boundaries, which is your role in the relationship. Go away. You can’t even handle eating food because of you can’t think about sex and eat at the same time.
You’re going to die of starvation at this rate, you know.
Oh god the Inner Goddess has showed up like three times in this chapter. BURN BURN BURN DIE DIE DIE.
The following copy paste is pretty much a pretty good explanation of everything wrong with this book.
“Can I see you? I’m sorry about Friday night. I was drunk… and you… well. Ana – please forgive me.”
“Of course, I forgive you José. Just don’t do it again. You know I don’t feel like that about you.”
He sighs heavily, sadly.
What the actual fuck? Are you serious? You’re just like, oh, okay, you tried to rape me, but I’ll totally forgive you because I have been calling you every hour on the hour in the creepiest creepfest creeperville thing ever. I hate you and everything you represent, Scum Sucker, and as for you Ana, I’d hold hope that Christian can screw some sense into you, but that’s not going to happen.
That would mean that this book would go uphill, but all I can see in front of me is the Abyss, except there isn’t going to be a really cool extended director’s cut which makes the movie just that much more awesome. There’s just a giant freezing trench of death and doom.
To make matters worse, because Ana must have exhausted her two last functional brain cells trying to figure out how sex works while the third was having a smoke, she decides to meet Scum Sucker for coffee.
This is the exact thing you do not do with a would-have-been rapist. Just don’t. Seriously. Don’t.
This is not Fifty Shades of Grey. This is “Everything You Should Not Do in Your Life in Fantasy Format.”
Fantasize about all of this stuff all you want, ladies and gentlemen–but this stuff is not pleasure in the real world. It’s terror–it’s terror that’s likely hit a lot of raped men and women hard in the gut.
But as I’ve said before, it’s totally okay to fantasize about this sort of thing–just don’t make it a reality. Consent is the rule, consent is always the rule, and no does typically mean no, unless you’re in a consenting bondage scenario where you’re roleplaying this sort of thing. There’s rules for that, yo–rules and safewords.
And depending on if you’re going to a professional dungeon, security guards to observe and help a submissive if things go too far.
Christian has it exactly right: research this stuff, yo. The internet has loads of resources–and ways to contact real doms and subs.
They’re typically super friendly people. Why?
Because a dom/sub relationship is founded on trust.
I’m going to go yank out all of my hair now. I wanted a trim anyway. It’ll grow back.
