P.J. Fox's Blog, page 20
December 26, 2014
The Black Prince: First Teaser!
You’ve waited. It’s here. The opener of The Black Prince. Sign up for my mailing list and, later on this winter, you’ll (exclusively) get the rest of this chapter as well as a couple more.
ONE
“I promise!” The man’s words were half plea, half shriek. His voice was raw, his face tear-stained and swollen. He’d been locked up now in the dungeons for two nights, given plenty of time to contemplate his crimes. Crimes for which this fate was more than richly deserved.
Still, if Isla were here, she’d argue that no crimes deserved such punishment.
Isla was wrong.
Hart stared down at the man, his expression impassive. He’d wondered, in the abstract sense, if this would be difficult. If he’d, indeed, be unable to do the deed. But now that the time was upon him, he found that he did not care. He might as well have been watching a fish gasping on one of the long, low docks that jutted out into the lake.
“Your promise is empty.” Hart’s voice sounded empty. Cold. Strange, even to him. Like the ringing of a gong inside a marble tomb. “You touched a child before, when you lived under a different name in the South. And you promised then that you’d never do this thing again, to the weak Southron lord who apprehended you.
“It was your mistake to come North, where we protect our own.” He paused. His eyes were hard in the torchlight. “More than blood, the Gods crave justice.”
He looked up, over the man’s head. “Bring him.”
It was time.
Strong, labor-calloused hands gripped him, hauling him backwards. He wouldn’t stand. Couldn’t, maybe. His heels beat out a tattoo on the hard earth as he half twisted in the air, half crab walked. “Priest!” he called. “Curse you, priest! That your balls will wither and your line will die out, and you’ll never know one true moment of peace before you’re once again claimed by the hell from which you came!”
Hart said nothing, only watched.
Beside him, another green-robed figure spoke. “An educated man.”
Indeed. Highly literate, to have so many words at his disposal in a time like this. He’d been apprehended in Barghast, an unassuming man who worked as a tailor and who’d lured poor children into his shop with the promise of sweets. Sweets, and a warm fire. What he’d done after would turn any normal man’s stomach. That a customer had come in, looking to pick up her parcel at exactly the right moment—or wrong, depending on one’s point of view—could only be credited to the Gods. Their gift to the people of Barghast and now, in turn, his gift to them.
Hart was pleased that this should be his first time. He tested the emotion, holding it inside and savoring it as he would a fine wine. Yes, pleased.
The other figure turned. A bone-white hand rested on Hart’s shoulder. “Are you well, brother?”
They were brothers now, he and Callas. Callas was, under the sun, the captain of Tristan’s personal guard. The duke, their lord, the source from whom all blessings flowed. Hart banished the blasphemous thought. Hart had been promoted to a lieutenant within that same guard. They worked together. They trusted each other. They bedded whores together. But that wasn’t what made them brothers.
On the night of Isla’s transformation, Hart too had transformed.
Callas had asked him, what have your Gods done for you?
The answer to that question no longer mattered. Hart had new gods now. Standing in a circle of guardsmen, the night of Isla’s transformation, he’d pledged his soul to the shadow. Not all of Tristan’s personal guard had joined the Chosen, as they referred to themselves. Many were normal men, seeking no further glory beyond that found in hearth and home. And Hart suspected that some who did join did so only for the lure of the taboo. They wanted to dabble in something dangerous, exotic, not realizing that their vows held them until death. And, if the scrolls could be believed, beyond.
You can’t un-know that there is more, Callas had also said.
The religion of the North was dark enough. In consequence, most Southerners believed all Northmen to worship the Dark One, but that wasn’t so. The Chosen were a select group who, like all good Northmen, honored all the Gods. But their true allegiance was to Ilde. The Chief of the Ghouls. The Destroyer. The Lord of the Flies.
There had been blood, and pain.
“I am well,” he said.
“A fool’s words have no import.”
But Hart wasn’t so sure.
The Chosen. Other men called them Forsaken. There was a time when Hart would have done the same. But that time seemed very long ago now, a story he’d heard so many times that he felt like he’d been there, rather than something actually remembered.
With Isla’s transformation had come the first snow. Within weeks, the hard-white world all around them would begin to melt. Had it really only been a season? Under the sun, he was a guardsman. A good and competent one, well reputed for being fair. He’d arrested the man before them now, who thrashed and screamed. He had the trust of the populace and the respect of his fellow guardsmen. He’d been promoted once already, and by Tristan himself. A man whom Hart also trusted, and respected. A man for whom he’d pledged to give his life, and whose table he joined most nights.
Under the moon, he was a Priest of Ilde. Callas was their chief priest, the leader of their circle. Which made him a first among equals. Hart was the equal of his brothers, although their newest member. Or would be their equal, rather, after tonight. After months of preparation, he’d been deemed ready to join in their full communion. To prove his devotion to his Lord. To live out in action the worth of his promise.
If he failed, he’d perish along with the man before him. But his soul would be no more free. Still, no one expected him to fail. For the first time in his life, he had the—more than respect. The love of his fellows. He was accepted here. Wanted. Callas saw him as a man to be admired. Promoted him to others as a friend and mentor. Welcomed him into his own home, one of the neat apartments afforded to officers without families.
In the South, Hart had been nothing.
December 25, 2014
So Where Are Those Chapters?
I promised (and still promise) anyone who signs up for my mailing list the first few chapters of The Black Prince. So where are they? The good news is, I hope to have them in share-able form by Valentine’s Day. In order to share the first few chapters you, in addition to having edited them, have to also have written enough of the book that you’re absolutely positive your first few chapters are your first few chapters, if you know what I mean.
Now that Christmas is over, and our house is more or less put back together again, I’m looking forward to waking up tomorrow morning and writing. And also going on a diet, but that’s a different story. Just let me say, though, that it turns out there is such a thing as too much pie.
So my plan, going forward, is to enjoy the dullness of routine in all its glory. After the fall I’ve had, a little boring sounds like just the ticket. And so I’ll keep you updated. The Black Prince is coming!
The Best BDSM Erotica (That You’re Not Reading)
Of all the things I’ve written, I’m potentially proudest of The Prince’s Slave. I think the series has a lot to offer. It’s not just another millionaire BDSM erotica ripoff of Fifty Shades of Grey but rather its own tale. A tale with, dare I say it, redeeming merit.
That being said, it hasn’t yet found its home. This is a genre that is, to put things mildly, awash with crap. It can be hard to sort through that crap to find anything worth reading. And of course I think my own work is! I’m biased. My hope is that, in the long term, word of mouth–and hopefully a positive review or two–will help it connect to its intended readership. Those who like their romance dark. Who aren’t attracted to the simplistic, or the simple. Who need strange.
Tell me: have you read it? Did you like it? Why or why not?
December 23, 2014
When Do You Give Up?
When does rejection become a sign?
When does it cease to be about ignoring the haters, and start to be about listening to the cues of the universe? Writing is a famously thankless job but I have to ask myself, at times like these, is it the job for me? When rarely anyone buys my books and, for the most part, those who do dismiss them as boring? Even the so-called “positive” reviews admit that reading my books isn’t a pleasant experience. For the most part, though, reviews do trend toward the negative. And…isn’t that a sign?
This is one of the reasons you haven’t heard much re: The Black Prince. Lately, in all honesty, I’ve had a difficult time caring. For the, oh, five or so of you who actually enjoy my work there are hundreds more who don’t. Some of whom content themselves with leaving reviews on Amazon and Goodreads and others who contact me personally to tell me how much they hate me and everything I produce.
A certain amount of rejection is to be expected. But, even for me, who’s constantly fight talking others, rejection gets to be too much. Especially when it’s so much rejection, within such a short time frame and without much of a light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, it doesn’t help that I spent most of the previous week with a) the flu and b) no shower. The bathroom, however, is once again in good repair. I’m sure you can sleep at night now, knowing that.
However much you’re writing for yourself–and I believe that, at the end of the day, all good writers are–you’re also putting yourself out there, in public, to be ripped apart. And some haters are, like I’ve said, to be expected. But when the best you can hope for is, increasingly, readers too apathetic (or kind-hearted) to leave a terrible review…you want to connect with people, for your book-baby to gain acceptance. For people to feel what you feel, writer to reader. So while I’m not about to stop writing, I’ve been debating the question for a couple of weeks now of whether I want to–at least for the time being–write for public consumption. Because there’s no point in playing the martyr, simply because people don’t enjoy my books.
It’s a constant fuck you, hearing how boring and whiny and unlikeable you are. And maybe I have a short fuse for that, given the events of my childhood and the fact that, over the course of my life to date, I’ve heard quite enough about how I suck. But at the same time…I have to wonder if I’m being given a sign.
Thirteen Things You Don’t Know (About My Books)
Tristan ( The Demon of Darkling Reach ) is based on my husband.
Morven’s state religion is based on that of the medieval Cathar sect.
Morven itself is based on Medieval England.
The Alliance ( The Price of Desire ) is based on Raj-era England.
Keshav ( The Price of Desire ) is an alternate name for Krishna while Kisten derives from the Danish word for coffin.
Ash’s name ( The Prince’s Slave ) is a nod to one of my favorite authors, M.M. Kaye.
Almost a decade of research on Andersonville, off and on, including site visits, went into writing The Prisoner .
I have a degree in medieval history.
I came up with the idea for The Black Prince Trilogy while bedridden with a serious illness.
Each title in The House of Light and Shadow is taken from a Napoleon quote.
A Dictionary of Fools is in part a defense of polyamory.
The Prince’s Slave is meant to be feminist.
Yes, There’s Human Trafficking
What I find interesting is that the same people who express disgust at The Prince’s Slave for its plot line also express a surprising lack of empathy for its heroine. They’re bored by her internal monologue. One disappointed reader even called her “judgmental.” For, presumably, taking issue with being kidnapped. Which tells me that the issue, here, is largely–if not entirely–intellectual. A certain subset of the population thinks they’re supposed to be disgusted, because this isn’t politically correct.
Their concern certainly isn’t with Belle’s state of mind. As “disgusted” as they are, they want less bellyaching and more sex. In other words, less realism. Which, as an author, is an interesting criticism to receive: that your book addresses a sensitive subject matter too sensitively.
I agree, of course, that a book about human trafficking would be a whole lot easier to read if there were no actual human trafficking. But you can’t both decry the book as not feminist, and then castigate Belle for being too feminist. Her persistent belief in her own bodily autonomy is either laudable, or it isn’t. The problem here isn’t me for tackling a tough–entirely current issue–but with those among us who dismiss a woman in Belle’s situation as “judgmental.” Who have no interest in, or patience for, her confusion.
And we wonder why so many women feel shamed into staying in abusive situations.
This isn’t an entirely pleasant story. No retelling of Beauty and the Beast should be. The original Belle, too, was kidnapped. Hideously taken advantage of by those whom she most had reason to trust. She worked through her own problems, on her own, and carved her own happy ending. She was–in her own time and after her own fashion–a feminist, too.
But that light, it came from darkness. Happy endings aren’t handed to us. And the issue here isn’t some abstract statement on the evils of human trafficking but, rather, its effect on each individual. If you have no patience for the struggles of a single person caught in this terrible situation, then you have no true issue with human trafficking. So please, spare me your hypocrisy.
December 21, 2014
No Sense of Urgency
Willie Degel is my spirit animal. I’ve watched every episode of his show, Restaurant Stakeout, at least twice–and not because I care so much about the restaurant business. I hope to some day have a signed picture in my office. Maybe I’ll get one, if I write enough fan mail. So what’s the attraction? I sit there, glued to the TV–and this from a person who wouldn’t even own a TV, save for the rest of her family wanting one–because everything he says is true. About work ethic. About follow through. Both of which ideas are perfectly encapsulated in his favorite phrase, sense of urgency.
Too many people live their lives like they’re immortal. They never start or, if they start, they never finish. People ask me all the time how I accomplish so much and the answer is the same disappointing answer I give about the weight loss: hard work. I don’t “have all this free time” and I’m not “superwoman.” I carve “extra” time from the fact that I don’t drink or (with extremely rare exceptions) watch TV. I wake up every morning before sunrise. Whatever it is, I need to get it done today.
Even if I know I can’t get it done today, even if, logically, I’m not trying to get it done today, I treat every day like the day. The day I finish. The day I want to finish. I don’t rush; I just work. Hard. In my mind’s eye I see the results, and I my goal–every single day–is to make them real.
Which helps, on the days I feel discouraged. The days I have the flu (like today) and no operational shower yet, because I’m not exactly the home improvement master, the days I get a one star review on Amazon. Work keeps me motivated toward the goal, and focused on the goal, rather than dwelling on everything that’s going wrong or could go wrong. It’s too easy to let your (perceived) failures distract you and, in the end, halt you. Hard work, and lots of it, helps you to remember that “failure” is a term really only understood in retrospect. Google “famous failures” sometime, to see what I mean.
Everyone from Stephen King to Babe Ruth to Winston Churchill was told to give up. Faced crippling setbacks. Which were setbacks and not failures, forks in the road instead of the end of the road, because they didn’t let those occurrences define them. All Stephen King had to do to be a failed writer was stop writing after that first handful of rejections. All Babe Ruth had to do was stop swinging.
Sense of urgency is about follow through. I thought about this last night (or rather, very early this morning, at about three) while I was installing the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. What was a sense of urgency? What outlook, or desire, really defined that experience of having one? My husband told me recently that I had the greatest sense of urgency of anyone he knew and I couldn’t have been happier if he’d given me flowers. That, to me, was (is) the best compliment. He said it was because I was (am) the most hard-working person he knew. But is hard work the sum total?
I say it’s, to borrow a phrase from the legal world, necessary but not sufficient. Which is why follow through is a better touchstone to use, in terms of definitions. Follow through, by necessity, includes hard work. Vision. Commitment. The burning need to work through setbacks rather than around them. To push, and keep pushing.
Hard work is good, but you’ve got to have the drive. The drive to keep at it. Too many people start off strong, then fizzle out. Why, who knows. They get sidetracked, or somehow derailed. About six months ago now, someone approached me asking for a shot at producing the audio version of The Price of Desire. I agreed. Things started off well enough, but he never returned the contract I sent him and eventually dropped off the face of the earth without explanation. And…that’s happened to me before. Almost everyone talks a good game on day one. Just like almost everyone describes themselves as hard working, decent, and honest. What they mean by those terms isn’t in how they talk themselves up but, rather, in their actions.
I didn’t publish eleven books in six months, because I’m the world’s fastest writer. Only a couple of those books were actually written within this year. Rather, I’d been writing for years before my “big break.” Which thankless experience prepared me exceptionally well for the equally thankless experience of being a published writer: you get to trade the rejection of agents and publishers for the rejection of readers! If I were doing this for positive feedback, then I’d have stopped awhile ago. Because the arts…are not kind.
I’m doing it for me. Because I have a story to tell, and I have to get it right. Every line, every word. Right, and right now. My sense of urgency comes from within, and is entirely self-directed. Which is what enables me to withstand the criticism, and the uncertainty that is sales rank. Someone, somewhere, will always hate. So I just strap on my hater blockers and keep on. I can’t please everyone and shouldn’t try–that way lies misery, not to mention artistic death–but I can please myself. I can know that I’m living out the truth of my own vision. Artistic and otherwise.
And that’s my sense of urgency.
What’s yours?
December 17, 2014
Television, Tolerance, and You
A lot of people want to see the Duggars’ show canceled.
I think that’s ridiculous.
Not because I agree with the Duggars (I don’t), but because their opponents’ argument is ridiculous.
Think about what’s going on, here: the very same people dismissing those, who want THEIR favorite shows canceled. Shows that represent them–like “Orange Is The New Black.” Want to see gay- and trans-positive shows on the air? Want to see, as so many have said, characters that “represent you?” Then respect EVERYBODY’S right to see the same thing. Canceling one show, because “I disagree with that lifestyle” is the same as canceling ANY show, because you’re offended at the idea that someone is different than you. Believes differently, defines their relationship to God and their own body differently, and thus chooses differently. Deciding that some forms of personal expression are “okay” because you agree with them while others aren’t, simply because you disagree with them, is doing exactly what you claim people like the Duggars are doing. That one point of view is, currently, “politically correct” doesn’t lessen the hypocrisy. We need to treat each other like we want to be treated and that means according those different from us the exact same level of respect, and access to the rights and privileges of the First Amendment, as we would want for ourselves.
Now, some of you, reading this, are already formulating all the reasons why the Duggars are awful, terrible people. Maybe I’m unaware, you reason. Maybe I just need to hear more about why their position on [insert issue here] is wrong.
To which I respond, referring once again to the First Amendment, a right that protects only those with whom we agree is no right at all. Shutting people down for being “wrong” is the same tactic, regardless of the person or group being targeted. And attempting to teach tolerance by displaying none will never work–because it is hypocritical. “It’s wrong when they do it, but right when I do it, because they’re wrong and I’m right” isn’t a cogent argument, no matter who’s doing the arguing.
Sometimes, people get so caught up in being “right” that they forget to question their own conduct. Or, indeed, even examine it critically at all. They forget that the other side thinks it’s just as “right.” Thinking you’re “right” doesn’t excuse flaming people, or other forms of intolerance.
I see a lot of people, who’ve suffered hate and discrimination their whole lives, talking about how much they “hate” the Duggars and asking for support, from like-minded people, for that hate. Which really saddens me. It shows how little perspective they’ve gained, on their own experience. They aren’t advocating for tolerance; they’re expressing their desire to switch places, to be at the top of the heap telling other people how to live their lives. “I want to be the dictator” is a materially different argument than “no dictator.”
“Live and let live” either applies to everyone, or it doesn’t.
December 15, 2014
From Most To Least Sex
I’ve gotten some questions, recently, about genre mapping my books. I’ve written a lot of them, and there are more coming. So the easiest thing to do–while I sit here, listening to the dishwasher my husband installed and wondering if we’re about to get a flood in the basement–is define everything in terms of the absolute number one question I get about every single book I write: is there sex?
I’m using the MPAA ranking system, here. Which, while not perfect, can be substituted as a more or less universally understood code. And is a little more descriptive than the shorthand I’ve developed with one of my best friends, who applies strict moral standards to what she reads. “Too trashy?” The answer is “no” if I can send her a clean copy of my manuscript (i.e. swears removed) and warn her before any sex scenes, and her reading experience isn’t affected. She has read, and enjoyed, both The Demon of Darkling Reach and The White Queen. I told her The Prince’s Slave was too trashy.
Self Publishing Is For Losers: G. This is a takedown of guide to the publishing industry. Which right there is pretty disturbing, so no additions were needed. This, and its companion writing guide, are at the moment my only two nonfiction offerings. Although I like to think they read like fiction are still interesting. Why is it, anyway, such a compliment to say that nonfiction reads like fiction? Is most nonfiction that dull?
Filed under:
Books > Reference > Writing, Research & Publishing Guides > Publishing & Books
Books > Reference > Writing, Research & Publishing Guides > Writing > Writing Skills
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Reference > Writing, Research & Publishing Guides > Publishing & Books
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Reference > Writing, Research & Publishing Guides > Writing Skills
I Look Like This Because I’m A Writer: PG. This is a book you could give your grandmother, so long as she likes basketball analogies. Although, keep in mind, my mom brags to everyone that I write the steamiest sex scenes and she’s a grandmother, too.
Note, however, that ILLT also has overtones of a memoir and, given that my childhood was a little disturbing, therefore some disturbing content (hence the rating).
Filed under:
Books > Reference > Writing, Research & Publishing Guides > Writing > Writing Skills
Books > Self-Help > Creativity
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Reference > Writing, Research & Publishing Guides > Writing Skills
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Self-Help > Creativity
The Demon of Darkling Reach: PG-13. This isn’t YA, but nor is it “trashy,” to borrow from the girl code. It’s a dark creature romance set in a fantasy reimagining of England’s high middle ages (that’s nevertheless as historically accurate as I can make it, because I do have a degree in medieval history). The entire series so far has been described by one reviewer as “Twilight for grown ups.”
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction
Books > Romance > Historical > Medieval
Books > Romance > Paranormal
Books > Romance > Vampires
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Historical Romance > Medieval
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Paranormal > Demons & Devils
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Paranormal > Vampires
The White Queen: PG-13. This sequel to TDODR has slightly more sex, and is equally as dark. If you like antiheroes and the occult, then this is the book (and series) for you. If you’d rather have an affair with Dracula than Edward Cullen, then Tristan Mountbatten is your man.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction
Books > Romance > Historical > Medieval
Books > Romance > Paranormal
Books > Romance > Vampires
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Historical Romance > Medieval
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Paranormal > Demons & Devils
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Paranormal > Vampires
The Price of Desire: R. I was debating on giving this a PG-13. There’s violence but, as my husband points out, “violence doesn’t get you an R-rating anymore.” Even so, this is a dark story with some very dark themes: child abuse, spousal abuse, substance abuse, consensual incest, espionage and war. I like to think it’s a good book, and possesses more than a little redeeming literary merit, but a walk through the meadow it’s not. More of a walk through–some very dark–woods.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction
Books > Romance > Fantasy
Books > Romance > Military
Books > Romance > Science Fiction
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Fantasy
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Military
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Science Fiction
A Dictionary of Fools: R. This is the sequel to POD, and the second in a planned series of five. It continues Kisten’s and Aria’s tale, telling you more about both as well as introducing some new struggles–and new characters. There is, indeed, a fair bit of sex here too although I wouldn’t advise reading the book (nor POD) for those scenes as they augment rather than frame the story.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction
Books > Reference
Books > Romance > Fantasy
Books > Romance > Military
Books > Romance > Science Fiction
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Fantasy
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Military
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Romance > Science Fiction
The Prisoner: PG-13. Rather than fitting within the framework of The House of Light and Shadow, this novella exists parallel to it (and can be found also in A Dictionary of Fools). It was released separately, because first and foremost it is a stand alone story and second, because it’s the novella that spawned the series. And while there is, arguably, a very minor romantic subplot The Prisoner has nothing to do with romance (or sex) at all.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction > Literary
Books > Science Fiction & Fantasy > Science Fiction > Military
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Literary Fiction
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Science Fiction & Fantasy > Science Fiction > Dystopian
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Science Fiction & Fantasy > Science Fiction > Military
I, Demon: PG-13. This is a collection of five different novellas, all of which are dark. None of them are about sex per se, although some of the stories allude to the idea. The rating is due, rather, to the fact of murder being a rather common theme.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction > Genre Fiction > Horror
Books > Literature & Fiction > Short Stories & Anthologies > Short Stories
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Horror > Short Stories
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Short Stories > Single Authors
The Prince’s Slave [Captive In His Castle]: NC-17. This is erotica. And while I like to think that there’s also redeeming literary merit, in both the story itself and in the characters, there is no escaping that the book itself revolves around sex. Around, not just having it (although there’s plenty of that) but the role it plays in our lives. In how fetish and feminism intersect. In how the most intimate bonding act of a relationship can teach us who we are.
The series is, as I’ve said before, a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > BDSM
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Fantasy
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Suspense
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Thrillers
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > BDSM
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Romantic Erotica
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Suspense
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Thrillers
The Prince’s Slave [Bound In His Bed]: NC-17. This second installment in the series evolves both the plot and the characters. But again…sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > BDSM
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Fantasy
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Suspense
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Thrillers
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > BDSM
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Romantic Erotica
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Suspense
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Thrillers
The Prince’s Slave [Collared In His Care]: NC-17. Again, the rating, and the genre categorization, pretty much speak for themselves. It’s an exciting genre to work in, though, because its so dynamic. The mainstreaming of erotica has opened a number of new possibilities, storytelling-wise, for those of us who enjoy delving into dark themes.
Filed under:
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > BDSM
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Fantasy
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Suspense
Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Thrillers
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > BDSM
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Romantic Erotica
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Suspense
Kindle Store > Kindle eBooks > Literature & Fiction > Erotica > Thrillers
So there you have it, folks. My genre map. I hope, for those of you who’ve requested more information, that this is helpful. If you have other questions, though, please let me know! Short of “what happens in The Black Prince,” I do answer them. And let’s all say a silent prayer for this dishwasher….
December 12, 2014
Wait–How Is Ash Ugly?
This question has been posed to me a couple of times by fans. If this is a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast, then isn’t the Beast supposed to be ugly? Ash is described as being exceptionally handsome. Irresistible, even. What gives?
The answer to this question lies, in part, in the afterword I wrote to the last installment. I point out, there, that “the principle problem with most modern retellings is they keep the bones of the story but lose the part where it’s a modern story, meant to be relatable to modern women. Jokes about “Stockholm Syndrome relationships” arise from the fact that, to modern women, the story in its most-used form makes no sense. They don’t relate to Belle; she isn’t a modern woman, in any sense, and even if she’s suddenly plunked down in modern day, in some sort of vague lip service to the idea the whole “tale as old as time” bit, her problems are still nonsensical. Modern women don’t, you know, get traded by their fathers over roses.
“Of course, they didn’t in the middle ages—or in the 1750’s—either. The rose is a metaphor. For any number of reasons that women were sold into what essentially amounted to indentured servitude. The rose represents something that’s perceived as perfect. To the point of lunacy, even, desired far beyond its actual worth. It doesn’t matter what the object of lust is, really; whether a rose or a chest of jewels. A thing’s value, ultimately, lies in the perception of its value.
Just as in Beauty and the Beast, the rose has greater value than Belle.”
Another “lost in translation” element of this tale tends to be, too, the Beast’s looks. In the original, the Beast isn’t cursed to be ugly. Rather, he’s cursed that his outside might match his inside. He’s ugly already–where it counts. Which brings me to the crux of my argument:
Belle is named for the Disney character, with whom she shares many commonalities, but the story itself is in fact far older. Originally a medieval tale, it was first put down in writing by a female author, the well-regarded novelist Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, and published in 1756. The same year when the Treaty of Westminster was signed, the first candy factory in the world opened in Germany, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s father published his now-famous textbook on learning to play the violin.
Ironically, most modern versions of Beauty and the Beast focus on something that the original story did not: this notion of a superficially ugly guy being not so bad after all. And what makes him ugly is always superficial. Oh, he has a scar. Or oh, he’s not a billionaire with a gigantic, pulsing…wallet. Which…okay, just how shallow are we saying women are, here?
Moreover, what actually makes a person ugly: what’s on the outside, or what’s on the inside? As far as literary devices go, the disposable “problem,” i.e. the hypothetical scar, is a pretty cheap trick. Easily gotten over, by the heroine and everything else. Because, after all, who really cares? Beauty fades, but bitch is forever. A point that Charlotte makes well, in her last visit to Ash’s castle.
The question of what actually makes someone ugly is usually sidestepped, because the things that make us ugly are almost always a little more challenging to get past. When I was first conceiving of this story I wondered, what would make someone a beast today? What’s the modern equivalent of the wolf outside the door, that so terrified people in the middle ages? Or indeed, the man who’d be regarded as a “beast” during the reign of King George II?
In a time when disfiguring injuries were common, would physical deformity really be seen as terrible? Richard III had severe scoliosis. The whole Hapsburg line was famous for its deformities. Lesser problems like smallpox scars were also common and, indeed, not seen as terribly problematic. Lost teeth, even lost limbs were a fact of life. What were a few scars?
So really, what we have here is a tale of values: a woman who’s undervalued and a man who is, perhaps, overvalued. And who, as a result, has never required much of himself. In learning to see his captive as a person, he discovers that he, himself, is a person. And that, really, is the tale as old as time: that as we gain wisdom, we gain a more meaningful understanding of what is and is not important. Looks go but love, in both the immediate and in the more universal sense, is forever.
It isn’t that Belle “loves him better,” it’s that they both tap in to the love in the universe. And so see themselves more clearly. As we value ourselves, we value others. Neither, in the end, loves the other for their position in society or for their looks. Both love themselves, first. Enough to be themselves.
The question was also asked, is Ash actually cursed?
That, you’ll just have to decide for yourself. I will point out, though, that in no fairy tale is a curse the ultimate determiner of one’s fate. It’s an obstacle, an unfortunate circumstance. Free will is always an element and, in the end, curse or no curse, we’re defined by the choices we make. In tough times especially. And I’d argue that living without love is the greatest curse of all.
Thoughts? Are you enjoying the story? Are there other questions, you’d like to see answered?
