The BDSM story A Choker of Lace is an exquisite exploration of awakening desires and whispered needs that delves into the heady world of submission and restraint. The full-length novel will soon be available for purchase. Meanwhile, you can read the prequel to this story, Initiation, in chaptered form here on my website.
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The BDSM story A Choker of Lace is an exquisite exploration of awakening desires and whispered needs that delves into the heady world of submission and restraint. The full-length novel will soon be available for purchase. Meanwhile, you can read the prequel to this story, Initiation, in chaptered form here on my website. Don’t want to miss an installment? Subscribe to my mailing list!
Some of my biggest turn-ons are of the intellectual variety. That’s why narrated fantasies play such a big role in my stories. Reading naughty books to each other, or revealing secret fantasies – that’s the oral sex I lust for. There’s something incredibly intimate in baring your soul, your desires, and fantasies to someone else. And there can be a heady component of shame and embarrassment in it, the secret sauce to my favorite dish. With this oral fixation, it’s no surprise that I would find a story in my draft-drawer (hah) centering on phone sex. Continue Reading
And why I will never stop loving it
I am a sucker for Beauty and the beast tales. Give me a woman falling in love with a beast and I’m salivating all over it. Never mind all those problematic aspects where the trope can go horribly wrong. But why is it that this fairytale has such an effect on me, and that it gets me every time? My heart starts pounding when Beauty meets her beast and they share a first, awkward moment. When the beast enters the story in all its unrefined roughness, coarse and sometimes outright nasty (or not, more often, when the *beastliness* comes only from its appearance, not its character), I can’t help but rooting for it to find its match and lover in Beauty. Continue Reading
You don’t have to write every day to be a writer. You’re still a writer when you’re between stories, when you haven’t written a word in weeks. That’s okay, and no reason to feel guilty, because guilt just makes it worse. So this is not meant to be another stress factor by telling you that you have to write in order to be a writer (TM). But sometimes, you want to write, you have the time and you have the ideas, but as soon as you sit down and put your fingers to the keyboard, some great incapability overwhelms you and the resistance is too big to push against. When you know what you should do, and want to do, but for some reason don’t manage to do. I found that the following five tricks helped me when I was stuck in those cruel phases, and in times of trouble, I regularly go back to them. Continue Reading
When I told my grandfather that I am writing romance, he made a face and said I should rather write something real, and serious. As if stories concentrating on love and relationships aren’t real and something you shouldn’t waste your time with. It’s an opinion about genre fiction you get to hear all the time, mostly without having asked for it. It’s so entrenched that I still felt I had to apologize for writing it when I had long realized that those are the stories I’m drawn to. I end up writing them over and over again. It’s also the stories I have been reading all my life, so no big surprise there.
I was ashamed of reading romance all my life, too. The cheesy covers sure were no help in lessening the stigma. Each time I got a new one at the railway station kiosk or the supermarket, marked down in price for being remaindered, I fixed my eyes on the floor and avoided to meet anyone’s eyes – especially those of the cashier – at all costs. But the thirst was real, and I needed a new romance novel every few days. I still have them all, cluttering the lower shelves of my bookcases. They’re hidden behind more *respectable* reading material. For some reason, I don’t manage to get rid of them. I haven’t bought a new romance book in a while, but that doesn’t mean I don’t pull out some Christina Dodd, Amanda Quick or Eloisa James once in a while and reread my favorites.
Those books made me feel when nothing else could. I found comfort in stories of feisty heroines fighting for their right to love and to live like they wanted. I found strength in their defiance, and, let’s be real, I discovered more than one kink between the pages of paperback love. So why should I be ashamed of my love of romance? Why are the words about love and two people finding each other and overcoming their differences and conflicts lesser in worth than other words? Lesser even than other genre fiction like Sci-Fi or Crime? Sure, not every genre novel is a literary gem, but that doesn’t mean that the genre as a whole is trash. I still think that Anne Golon’s Angélique series is among some of the best books I ever read, and it was marketed as romance for lack of a better label.
Romance novels aren’t just about love and, well, romance. They’re about women, and for women, and that’s probably the thing that makes them *less* than your average fiction written by the average white male dude. Sexism is as strong in publishing as it is as anywhere else – just take a look at Young Adult fiction.
It’s no surprise, I think, that it’s my grandfather criticizing my choices in the stories I write. He’s someone who certainly never even touched a romance novel and judges the genre as a whole by its cover. I found the opinion so deeply ingrained in myself that I defended my writing of romance to a former – male – lecturer from my university with the apologetic words of “Someone has to write it.”
“I know,” he said. He, for his part, is an unapologetic, avid reader of romance.
I’m still working on emancipating myself from prejudice. Now that I accepted my fate, so to speak, accepted that stories about love and overcoming conflict are not only my jam in reading but also the thing I write most passionately about, I had to do some soul-searching. I had to face the root of my hesitance and my prejudices and question their origins. Once I became aware of the systemic sexism in the publishing industry and the underlying devaluation of women’s words and stories, I refused to let myself feel ashamed for it any longer.
I’m no longer apologetic of my writing, and I no longer hide the covers of the books I read.
It’s easy to get overwhelmed and disheartened when browsing ebook categories and trying to work out the space where your own story fits. *Knowing your market* can easily drift off into *the market is full already there’s no space for me*. Maybe it’s not that important to know the competition, though. Sure, always do your research, but maybe the most important thing amongst it all is just to WRITE YOUR STORY. So, there are 1001 naughty fairy tales out there… but not yours. And if fanfiction taught me one thing, then it is that the thirst for certain tropes never dies. There are countless variations of ONE idea/trope, but all of them are unique, and they all have their readers. So I will not hang my head. There’s a lot of space in the universe.
The key to writing a story is routine. The key to routine is discipline. Discipline is a concept I constantly struggle with. Is it such a surprise then that I constantly struggle with my self-esteem, too, when I fail so much at this most basic concept?
I have my self-doubt so ingrained in me that it’s hard to get past it. My inner critic is constantly telling me that I’m not good enough, that I will never succeed. That I’m a failure, and a disappointment. My inner critic is a filthy liar, though, and maybe I just have to give him the face of someone I despise so as to learn to unhear him. My inner critic is a cold-hearted man with a burning loathing of those living in a world of words and stories. He begrudges them their dreams and thoughts because he never was allowed to follow his dreams, and no one ever thought he could have even one sensitive bone under his pasty skin, no thought beyond what’s sensible and pragmatic. He calls it reality, he calls it truth, but it isn’t. It’s his grudge speaking out of him, his disappointment with himself.
My inner critic wears a familiar face, and I must not trust him. My inner critic is a liar, and I have to emancipate myself from him. I have to learn to believe in myself. And anyway, even discipline can be learned. All it needs is structure and time. I don’t have structure, but I do have enough time to build it.
I developed a bit of a condition here… I’m still on my daily wordcount goal of 300 words, and after I had a bit of a slump, not writing a word for several days, I began to count anything into my wordcount out of sheer despair. Blog posts. Emails. Everything. Then I started a short story that has lingered in my head for a while now, but even this didn’t get the juices flowing. Then I decided to write something that haunted me.
You know how you can develop a so called ship? I didn’t know what this meant until I entered tumblr and somehow slid into the depths of a fandom. Well, I know how it felt to ship a character with another, but I didn’t know there was a whole terminology for it (yes, I googled “OTP” – it means One True Pairing, just for the record). I didn’t know this could happen with my own characters. I mean, sometimes it’s intended to happen (writing romance without a ship is not a good idea), but in my case, it’s not. These two characters can under no circumstances end up in any relationship whatsoever, especially since one of them is the villain (yes, my antagonist is also a villain, happens to the best of us) and the other one is the hero of my story. They’re opposed in insuperable conflict that ends with one of them dead. But I ship them so hard. So I decided to give me some writing practice and write my own fanfiction. Let them get hot and steamy with each other without any intention of ever – ever – including it in the book (let alone let it see the light of day). Without any intention of even fitting it into the story.
And suddenly, I write 3000 instead of 300 words a day. Might be that this is without merit, since it’s written with the specific premise of never seeing a printing press. Perhaps I waste my days. But I don’t think so. It gets my creative mojo flowing, and I try to incorporate some writing exercises. I think it’s not the what you write everyday that is important, but the that you write everyday. (Uh, sorry for any deadly grammatical sins I committed here). The more words you produce, the more likely it is there are some gems among them. And if not, it’s still easier to work with already written words than to produce brilliance from scratch.
And it helps me to free my head from any haunting shipper feels that could invade my story. They’re all packed up now, neat and tidy, in their own folder. And hey, if you never write just for your own fun, why you’re doing this at all? Yes, being a writer includes seeing writing as your job, but what good is it if you have absolutely no fun in your job? Right, you’re likely going to quit or develop a serious stress disorder.
So, have fun, stay positive and write your own fanfiction.
Ok, a while back (and it really is a while, was it last NaNo or the one before that? Anyway), the peeps of my favourite Office of Letters and Light asked about our dreamcast, should our novel be made into a film… While I’m not harbouring any hope (well, at least only a teenytiny one) of that ever happening, it can be worthwhile to give your characters a face. Of course you should know how they look like, at least roughly, because it’s never going to sit well with your readers if your hero starts out with green eyes and ends up with blue ones. They notice these kind of things.
Nevertheless, I never really pictured my character’s appearance in great depths. I knew: This one is red haired and has really white skin. The other one has green eyes with golden flecks. And the third is dark haired and big. Period. You think this is not enough? Possibly. But their appearace is not my main focus. I focus on character voice, on how this characters sounds and speaks and thinks. Add a memorable detail (ah, yes, the glass slippers of every story), something that sticks out – Harry Potter had his scar, his always broken glasses and his disheveled hair – and you’re done. Characters take their shape in the readers imagination, through their voice and actions.
Of course, sometimes there is a face that is just perfect. An actor that incorporates every trait you’ve given your character. That’s fine. I’m sure, you could describe said character (with this person’s face) in every last minuscule detail, and he could look completely different in your reader’s mind.
Point is: Your characters have to be as vivid and alive as they can be in your head, to enable you to bring them down onto the page. But that doesn’t mean they require an actual face. You don’t need to paint them in oil. Looks can be means to an end, but your character should not rely only on his outer appearance. There will be people who yell at this “Noooo, you have to picture them down to the last chappy toenail, you have to seeee them, how else can you write them!?” I say: trust your gut. Only you know how much appearance and looks and chappy toenails you need to envision your character. I know how much (or more, less) vision I need. As I said, I’m pretty sketchy with looks. That doesn’t keep my heroes and villains and protagonist and antagonists from being very much alive and distinct, at least in my imagination.
Now, as sketchy as the looks of your character can remain, his bearing – the way he presents himself, the way he moves and gestures and mimics – is something totally different. This is essential. Part of his voice. But I’ll come back to this.