Why Write Fan Fiction When You Could Write Something that REALLY Blows? by Vanessa C. Hawkins

 Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

Get it? Blows... if not then read the title again, and strap in for a punderful time with your favorite fun-loving blogger/extrovert, needs-to-get-out-in-the-sun-more, weirdo. 

I know, I know... I only have one... and it's in my room.

So for those of you who don't know what fan fiction is, allow me to explain. Fan fiction is when you watch the first four seasons of Supernatural, realize that the subsequent seasons suck and Dean is obviously meant to be with Castiel, and finally after a stupid amount of time writing alternate realities in your mind, you post these alternate realities--which are obviously better and why the producers of the show didn't contact me about my ideas, I'll never know-- on the internet. 

Did you catch that? No? Okay... how about this!

Though I must admit I never actually posted my fan fiction on the internet, in retrospect I'm glad I didn't. It was entirely the fault of dial-up, mind you--the age old tradition of using one's phone line to obtain a crappy internet connection. But it was enough to keep my alternate ideas away from the public eye or becoming something like Fifty Shades. 

Yes, that's right. I'm old. PlayStation 1 old...

There's a PlayStation 5 now?!

Also yes, Fifty Shades started out as a fan fiction... and yes... UGH! I still hate it.

So, I'm not saying that fan fiction is lame. I mean a lot of it is... and a lot of it's just smutty bullhump that some people like ejaculating online, *COUGH!* E. L. James **COUGH COUGH!** but not all of it's bad! I promise! In fact, my first foray into writing fanfics--that's a little word we pros like to use to seem like we know a thing or two--was definitely what got me on the path to published writer bliss! And despite my fan fiction being anything BUT cool, it was practice, and practice makes perfect...

or at least it made me a less crappy writer...

Ahem! You weren't supposed to laugh at that...

But my point--and yes I sometimes DO have one--is that although fan fiction is a self-indulgent mess that we love developing and getting into, sometimes we ought to turn off Pornhub, go out into the world, and find a human being by ourselves that we can love and cherish and make ours forever and ever and ever!

Buffalo Bill gets what I'm sayin'!

I mean, copyright aside, I'd be cool with peeps writing fan fiction of MY work. It meant I had a fan! But then again, I'm not so sure I'd recommend any aspiring writer to get one foot in the door by doing that unless you want to change pretty much everything to avoid lawsuits. 

Did you know Christian Gray was really Edward Cullen? Did you know what's-her-face was really Bella Swan? E. L. James proves that anything can be possible! But I wouldn't bank on those re-written fanfic bucks just yet...

In fact, some writer's vehemently oppose it. Look at ol' George...

We would the blog be without George? 

He believes that it's a bad route to being a professional writer. Build your own worlds and characters! he says! I tend to agree with him... though I also agree actually finishing what you started to write is good advice too... *hint hint George* 

So! I guess the moral of the story is: Write Fan Fiction! Make bucks! But be sure to change just enough around so Lionel Huts doesn't come knocking at your door...                                                                                                Or!--the alternative--Don't Write Fan Fiction! Don't even finish your series! Make bucks! Sell out and help produce a great series on HBO that ends like a blind date with bad breath. 

Yes... I signed the Game of Thrones Petition...

And no, I have no idea what I'm doing. No one does. At least that's what I tell myself at night to feel better. 

Just do you and have fun so later you can go back to crying over your manuscript in peace...

Where are my fan fiction or didn't finish my work in progress BUCKS? *cries*

 

Why Writing Erotica is... Weird

 

Vanessa Hawkins Author Page

I wanted to call this blog post: Neurotic Erotica, but I didn't think it quite got the point across. Now I am an avid fan of assonance. Chaotic Erotica, Psychotic Erotica, and Hypnotic Erotica were all valid choices, but the fact of the matter is erotica... and writing it... 

is weird. 

Now I'm not bashing the genre! I have greedily offered many hours of my life to the pursuit of reading words that might offer the slightest tingle or giddy laugh in the middle of a rainy day... or on a bus ride, or at work... or during... I dunno, a family reunion or somethi--

Ahem! 

But! 

Not that kind of butt! Get your head outta the gutter.

...There is a world of difference between reading something spicy and writing your own. I am quickly learning this the hard way. 

Hur hur! No pun intended...

READING sexually explicit material is... well, discreet. It feels okay to do on a crowded bus or in lieu of your biology class, because the only thing giving us away is perhaps the front cover. But even cover pages are becoming less obvious! Unlike flipping the centerfold of an old playboy magazine during your daily Americano at that high traffic Starbucks downtown, we are free to wallow in our lewd literature because at the end of the day, it is head and shoulders classier, even if it isn't!

Even if it isn't... 😒😒😒

But personal taste aside, WRITING erotica--at least for me--is entirely different. Writing erotica is like tossing yourself off a cliff and hoping that someone catches you at the bottom and likes what you've happened to wear that day. It's being that weird woman at the typewriter, living out her own lecherous fantasies while she takes you along for the ride. It's... weird... 

...but only because we're inviting you. In fact... we hope you tag along and recommend us to all your friends!

"Captain Pedro's buff trouser soldier was in full salute at the sight
of Madame Avery's ankles on display..." This is sure to get five star reviews!

 On top of that, there is always the awkward time of completion where you sit and wonder if you really want to let everyone read your guilty pleasures. I'm talking #authorproblems. 

Like I've said before, I've read erotica. I'm not ashamed to say it! I READ SMUT! However, now that I am writing something that I want to eventually publish, but also has the potential to be terribly embarrassing/controversial/etcetera... there is the issue of whether I want to attach my real name to said piece of scandalous pron. 

I know you're proud of me for becoming a 
published author, Mom... but my new book has tentacles... and people
who sit on cakes for fun...

On one hand, doing so will ensure that I receive sales from my usual group of fans. It means I can do book launches, online video giveaways, signings, you name it! But... it also means that people will know I wrote it. It means other weirdos may see me as their own personal sexy safe space. It means people might think I'm into all the weird stuff I write... it means...

...

...

...

that my family may read it. 

AHHHHHHHHHH! 

So what do I do!? Narcotic Erotica! That's what I should have named this post, because if I ever finish my next work in progress, I am going to need narcotics to get through the marketing phase!--which, by the way, is the devil.

How do other authors cope?! How do they continue on writing salacious material without an alias and without having awkward dinner conversations at Christmastime with grandma?! What in the heck do I do?? How do I respond to the question of... hey there, Vanessa! Heard you were coming out with a new book! What's it called? 

It's called...Lord of the Flings, Middle Girth...
thanks for asking Auntie Anne 

So I am at a loss. I suppose I should just write the darn thing first, figure out what to do later. But still... it's eating at me... I need to figure it out! Any advice? I know what George's response would be at least... 

Just don't finish it!

 

But what about yours? What would you do? 

HALP!

Marketing, thy name is Satan!

 

Vanessa C. Hawkins Author Page

If you look up the word Marketing in the dictionary you may come across something like this...

MARKETING verb 1. ♦ frustration, vexation, agitation; Marketing is the biggest pain in the ass and writing a book is a thousand times easier and why!? Why did I ever think I could market my book? God help me, please! PLEASE! 2. ♦ the Devil; Marketing is the Devil.

Just in case you failed to understand the definition, here is a visual. 

While it's true that many writers are humble scribes furiously scribbling their fancies on paper, when it comes to becoming a... duh duh duh! author, most of us don't know shite about putting ourselves out  

there. In fact, once we get over the initial excitement of being offered a contract by a publisher, many of us succumb to the crushing weight of what will happen once our book is out amongst the public. What do I do? Book launch? I have to read IN FRONT of people?

Well yes. You should. But Especially during Covid times it is not always easy. 

Social Media, book store signings, readings, writing press releases, online virtual author meet and greets, and book tours are all great, right? BUT... they also lean towards the boisterous signs of an extrovert. 

Now I'm not saying that all writers are introverted creep-a-zoids who stay isolated in their rooms for hours on end writing about characters they've thought up in their heads to put them in silly, cruel and oftentimes weird situations but... I also don't know how to finish that sentence.

Just because Stephen King resembles a goblin doesn't mean he's weird... right?

But really, no. Not all authors are introverted. Are a lot of them? Yes. Do some bear an uncanny resemblance to goblins? Maybe. But you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover... even though we totally do. I talked about it actually last month.

My point being: marketing is hard. A lot of authors struggle with it. Sure, anyone can put a book up on the internet, but how do you stand out among thousands of other authors trying to survive and eke out a living in an Amazonian wilderness? 

Well... good question! And honestly... I don't really know! If I did, I'd probably be doing something else, like sipping martini's and eating ice cream sundaes made with edible golf leaf and caviar, topped with a unicorn horn or chocolate dragon claws or something.

Mmm... edible dragon horn...  

But despite that, my book A Curious Case of Simon Todd, was featured in a Bookbub recently, and if you don't know what Bookbub is, it's a platform where authors can apply to feature their books on their site for a fee. Now getting a Bookbub deal isn't easy. I applied more times than Bart said Ay Caramba in the first six seasons of The Simpsons. But when I did get a deal, it was a great experience! I sold over 500 books on Amazon alone and made more than my fee cost and had a plethora of people message me requesting signed physical copies!

Now people like Stephen King can sell 500 copies in the time it takes to blow their nose... but for a little guy like me, I was in heaven! 

After that I contacted the newspaper and told them about my success... and though a lot of them didn't care and ignored my emails, others interviewed me and I got in the newspaper! Twice! Well one isn't running until Tuesday BUT I'M STILL COUNTING IT!

So I guess the trick to marketing is to just keeping trying. The Curious Case of Simon Todd was published in 2018, but I still managed to get some solid sales almost 3 years after it was released! I mean... George R. R. Martin is hated by SO many people now... but that's a recent thing! His first book was written in 1996! 

Same, George... Same...

So don't give up! Keep on trucking! Great things take time and all that other positive vibe crap that someone says to keep people motivated! You can do the thing... even if the thing is pretty much the devil... 

Did I mention this already? I did? Oh, okay... just checking.

And someday soon, I'm sure YOU TOO can be hated by millions of people for not finishing a series you continue to make thousands of dollars on each and every day! YAY!

I'm only kidding... don't be mad, George. I'm sure you have a good excuse...

... please finish the books, George.  

...Please?

Oh and if you're a reader and not an author... Leave a book review! They're pretty much our bread and butter... Our precious! 

Covering Up!

So as the title and the picture suggests, I have received my new cover image for my upcoming novel Ballroom Riot! Isn't it pretty? Don't you just want to hold it in your hands and admire all art deco involved? 

Assuredly not... But one can dream

Don't you? DON'T YOU?!

Ahem...

Our cover designer Michelle does an amazing job in working with the authors of Books We Love Publishing to ensure our literary vision is presented with the best cover art imaginable... and believe me, we're writers! We imagine up some pretty strange stuff sometimes...

Believe me folks, get a cover designer.
Not even Stephen King could sell
a book with a cover page as terrible
as this....

  

In fact, this isn't even the first image she's done for me. She also did the design work on The Curious Case of Simon Todd, another book I wrote and published with Books We Love back in 2018.

Here's the link to it if you're interested!  

In the grand scheme of things, book covers are pretty important. We've all heard the old adage of don't judge a book by its cover, but sticks and stones break bones and names hurt too, dammit! So not every maxim is true 100% of the time. 

This is why every good book needs an amazing image to covey the general theme of the plot or main characters within. I mean, unless you're a big wig author like George R. R. Martin or Dean Koontz... then you're name's probably enough... Right?

When's Winds of Winter coming out
George? Huh?! WHEN, GEORGE!?

But assuming you aren't famous yet, and if you are, Hey! How about an endorsement? Then your name broadcasted in the middle of the page isn't likely going to cut it. Unless you're name's Isa Goodread or something. 

This means research is needed. What makes a good cover? In my humble opinion less is usually more. I tend to focus on a few key elements that encompass the story. Take Ballroom Riot for example. There is a girl, a dragon and some stylistic elements that hearkens back to... say the 1920's? 

A reader should know by a glance the general themes they will encounter in the story. If it's too busy, or there are too many images, the point can become lost. Remember, you're competing for attention out there. You don't want your amazing story overshadowed by sexy Fabio with his shirt off, do you? 

Honestly... this image is 
still too busy for my taste.

Well maybe you do, but unless you can go back in time and contract young Fabio to pose for your amazingly written romance, readers will be drawn to the main elements you authors seek to showcase. 

Give them an interesting focal point. If they are into naked men, and your story is about naked men, give them a half naked man! But don't surround him with a myriad of other stuff we don't care about! 

...or at least, don't care about as much as we care about naked men... 

Don't get me wrong. We don't want to entice the wrong audience. We don't want to mislead the reader. We want to pull them in at a glance and make them pick up the book. 

Gimme that cold, hard cash, baby!

Then they can read the blurb at the back, see if it's their cup of tea, and hand over that sweet, sweet money... 

Sure! There's a market for busy images. But unless your Waldo, or know somebody like him, I'd strongly recommend sitting down, having a think, and figuring out a few choice themes your book is about and how best to showcase them on the front cover.  

Don't forget about colors and fonts! Or your sexy little author name somewhere where we can all see it and be proud of you! Talk it over with a cover designer too. Again: having someone like Michelle is a Godsend. You definitely won't regret it.   

I'm proud of you and find your story a-peeling!

 

 

Time to Lighten Up (And Tell a Cat story)

Transport to Fort Providence residential school is only the beginning of their ordeal, for the teachers believe it is their sworn duty to “kill the Indian inside.” All attempts at escape are severely punished, but Yaotl and Sascho, along with two others, will try, undertaking a journey of 900 kilometers across the Northwest Territory. Like wild geese, brave hearts together, they are homeward bound.

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*******************************************************************************************************************************

Okay, this is a cat and cat "owner" story. I'm in  need of some relief from increasingly Dystopian reality. Maybe you are too.

We recently acquired a new cat. "Willeford" (who came up with that?!) is a used cat, so, as they say about cars, he's only new to us.  He arrived from a kill shelter in a nearby county, a nondescript gray tiger, eight years old and all busted up and weak on the back end.

Yes, not only is he an elder cat, but he's also a "busted" cat. When we first got him, he couldn't even uncurl his tail. He could take zero pressure from a hand gently stroking his hips without sinking to the ground. He's gaining strength after these months of happy release from the rescue cage in which we found him. Someone may have stepped on him, as he's one of those cats who imagines his people can see in the dark. I've narrowly avoided falling over or stepping on him quite a few times in the last months.

At our house, he's been able to run up and down stairs for therapy, to leap onto beds and chairs and cat furniture for cuddling and combing. His injuries no longer preclude his jumping onto the kitchen counter to demand a faucet water drink, or, his personal favorite, a glass filled to the brim with water set beside us on a desk or table for our convenience--at least that was the original plan.

Willeford has turned mostly into William, or Willy. When he's a real sweetie, it's WILL-YUM-YUM, or just YUM, for short. Cat names often start out grandly, but, I've found, quickly morph. We once had an elegant feisty black female named "Bast-Ra" but that eventually became what our youngest child could pronounce at the time, which was "Bap."  "Bap" it remained, even after he could say Mom's fancy original.

Willy came with more than a few unusual feline behaviors we've never coped with before. For one thing, at first he was super needy. I spent the first few hours he was home, lying in bed with him where he hugged and kissed and rolled all over me, all while purring and drooling like a mad kitty. He non-stop kneaded any body part he could reach. I stayed because I didn't want to leave him in such a state, so I was just a quiet cat mom for him until his anxiety wound down.

He spent the night with me and for most nights following, though I can't say either of us got much sleep, as he spent the time crawling all over me and purring. His favorite resting place, because I am a back sleeper, was on top of my face, chest down and with his cat "elbows" digging into my neck, so that eventually my throat would close. Then I'd  choke and have to push him away. I've tried all sorts of strategies to get him to accept other more acceptable (to me) sleeping positions, but it's literally taken months to get him sufficiently relaxed in order to do so. Now, we share a pillow, though I have to be firm in order to keep enough to accommodate my skull. Even now, sometimes, he'll wrap his kitty arms around my head and then drag the rest of his body close into a wrap-around. It's like a fur "face-hugger" and the mental image is not pleasant.

Big Feet

 Almost a year in and his behavior is slowly changing. Some time in the summer, he made a decision to decamp to some spot more distant, perhaps onto the foot of the bed, or into bed with my husband whose larger frame accommodates his weight and sharp elbows better. It gives us both a breather, although I have to admit to liking the creature comfort of a cat pressed against the torso on cold nights.

We have no idea what went on with his last human, but, as Willy'd arrived at the shelter starved and "from the streets,"we came to believe that his person had died and that he'd been summarily cast out to fend for himself. No wonder all the anxiety, poor guy!

Willy remains an early to bed type of cat. That is, initially, at 7:30, he started calling and then leading us toward the stairs, clear as anything saying "Time for bed."  My husband jokingly remarked that was the time when Jeopardy(c) ended, a classic bedtime for the senior senior. (Yes, I meant to say "senior" twice.)

He likes to play, but he's rough and isn't always careful with his claws or his teeth. At first my legs and arms were covered with scratches and puncture marks too from Sorry! OOPS! I-lost-my-head-for-a-minute bites. Our other (also crazy) cat really doesn't get him at all, and she gets scared and won't play chase as he would like, so now and then he bullies her because it's the single fun feline interaction he can get.

Sometimes I wonder if we should get another younger cat which could possibly break up their negative game by the addition of a third player. Another cat might provide  a playmate for the energetic Yum. Should we do it? But as every cat mom knows, #1 there's a husband problem to be solved even before the inter-cat relationships can be solved. 

Our family has managed as many as five kitties at a time and done a decent job, but we're not getting any younger or any richer, and taking proper care of animal companions requires funds as well as love/time. We're approaching the end of the trail here, and the last thing any elder pet "owner" wants to imagine is that their beloved friends will be cast onto the street as Willeford was.




 ~~Juliet Waldron

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The Esteemed Right Worshipful Prioress S.R.D. meets Willeford.

BATTLE OF THE BUNDT by Juliet Waldron

A “big” birthday just come and gone. (Clearly not the one above!) Our favorite local pastry bakery has gone out of business. I’m a scratch baker, but not a professional, nor a yuppie with a ton of equipment and endless dollars. Still, I bake bread weekly, and always baked all the family b-day cakes for my kids. I figured “what the hell, Archie!” This year, I will make one for myself.

I dragged a Bundt pan from the back of the cabinet and dug out the recipe book with which it came. I looked up recipes which would fit in the “mini” pan, found one that appealed, shopped ingredients and then began. I chopped cherries and prepped chocolate, sifted dry ingredients and creamed the butter, sugar and eggs. Then, I revved the mixer and was soon ready to pour batter into the pan. To my surprise, it filled almost to the brim.

I went back to the recipe book and checked again. Yes—this was specifically for the “mini” pan...

Full steam ahead.  I wasn’t listening to the shrill little voice of baker’s experience which was telling me that this cake would, shortly, be all over the bottom of the oven. Still, I didn’t put a cookie sheet underneath it. Why, I can find no reason for, except, maybe, sheer stubbornness, or a sad tendency to shoot myself in the foot.  

After all, this recipe book has never let me down before…

Well, as the voice of experience had warned, Vesuvius erupted. I turned the oven off, got gloves and the cookie sheet I should have put under no matter what “the book said.” Anyone with a bad back who has stooped to reach into a hot oven after a molten tub of something knows how scary this is, but it had to be done. Somehow I got the cake pan onto the sheet without more spilling or burning myself. I turned the oven back on, and, an instant later, the floor of the oven burst into flames. After staring for a moment, and realizing that with so much fuel, it wasn’t about to give up any time soon, I retrieved a box of baking soda. I put out the fire, after turning the oven off once again.

Okay! I’d got the fire out, and the cake pan situated so that the still lively volcanic action would no longer end up on the oven floor. Mad at myself, but not yet ready to despair, I went back to cleaning the kitchen, washing dishes, putting away the mixer, etc. and then started on the frosting. Half an hour later, I realized I hadn’t turned the oven back on again.

Well, this was a duel now, between me and my own folly.  I turned the oven on at a lower temperature and began to bake -- again. By using a thermometer, I would eventually make a decision about when the cake was done. 

At last, I removed it—best estimate—and after it had cooled a bit, and after a long session of chipping the lava flow off the sides of the pan and cookie sheet, I managed to pick it up and turn the cake over onto a plate.  Believe it or not, a few minutes later, the darn thing slipped out of the pan, and in proper Bundt form! About an hour later, I frosted it and my husband and I ate it--and ate it--for the best part of a week. It was—somehow—a totally yummy, moist chocolate cherry cake, despite all the misadventures it and I had been through together.

~~Juliet Waldron

Not only is Juliet Waldron a warm and funny storyteller when relating personal experiences, she is an extremely talented and masterful author of historical novels like Mozart's Wife, Roan Rose, Genessee, and many more, including her latest, a novelist's history of Alexander Hamilton, America's first Secretary of the Treasury, which has debuted to rave reviews.  Click the cover to get a copy from Amazon.

 

http://www.bookswelove.net/authors/juliet-waldron/

More about my historical novels:

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