tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34971171696265077512024-02-22T08:07:30.586-08:00The Musings of Author R.C. MartinAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-86419708886804997212018-12-06T08:00:00.000-08:002018-12-06T08:00:01.656-08:00Rock-N-Roll Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6wCg4Zozt3CmnmRdk-F2I8H_hGYIQ6GzPwA5iUK7G_jdfli3rLZ54NRumc0PNBB4Fa_NyZLrAPBBxPBi7pUByQbnIK4t2j1afNl5SD2a4D5OlQTZcViPJLq97TqwObHfmVvcJnYeYOV8/s1600/Christmas+Live.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6wCg4Zozt3CmnmRdk-F2I8H_hGYIQ6GzPwA5iUK7G_jdfli3rLZ54NRumc0PNBB4Fa_NyZLrAPBBxPBi7pUByQbnIK4t2j1afNl5SD2a4D5OlQTZcViPJLq97TqwObHfmVvcJnYeYOV8/s1600/Christmas+Live.png" /></a></div>
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It's official - my very first Christmas story is now LIVE!<br />
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It's crazy how this whole thing came about. At the end of October, a friend of mine asked me if I'd ever thought about writing a seasonal story; she was thinking about writing a short one for Christmas. These sorts of things have never appealed to me, mostly because when I think of holiday stories, I think of Hallmark and a whole lot of cheese - but not the tasty kind. I vowed that while I'd never considered writing one before, if I were to ever do such a thing, I would make it my mission to avoid as much cheese as possible. Yet, even as I spoke the words, I didn't know that - five minutes later - I'd have an idea in my head for a story.<br />
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There really was no question which couple in my collection would be best to receive a little spotlight at Christmas time. Honestly, it was a no-brainer. Ashley and Corie had my head buzzing with ideas in an instant. Now that it's all said and done, can I claim victory over my self-imposed mission to write a Christmas story void of cheese? I don't know. You'll have to be the judge. All I can say is - there's something special about Ashley and Corie; something I've never really felt in control of. Their love is pure. It's genuine. It's sweet. It's patient and it's kind. It abounds in grace - and there's only one way for me to write it. They've proven this to me over and over again.<br />
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So, if you're in the mood for a sweet, southern gentleman - catch up with Corie and Ashley in <a href="http://mybook.to/rocknrollchristmas">Rock-N-Roll Christmas</a>, available today, exclusively on Amazon!<br />
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If you've never met Ashley and Corie before, I've put <a href="http://mybook.to/backgroundnoise">Background Noise</a> and <a href="http://mybook.to/backwoodsbelle">Backwoods Belle</a> on sale through the weekend! Snag the entire collection at a discount while you can - or read it for free with your kindle unlimited subscription! This, my dear readers, is my Christmas treat - just for you!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-85328441204615672072018-12-04T07:00:00.000-08:002018-12-04T07:00:05.329-08:00reflection<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year ago today, my life shifted course. It felt instantaneous, the moment I realized my little personal world as I knew it would never be the same; and the trajectory of my writing journey had never felt as lonely or uncertain as it did in the very instant I grasped the concept that I was free, but I was also headed down a road only I could travel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year ago today marks the end of what still sometimes feels like one of the most significant friendships I’ve ever had. It was the calmest and most silent breakup. Like a switch had been flipped by God Himself, it was just over with not a word exchanged. Though, I know it was more complicated than that; like we’d both had enough, and neither of us had the energy left to pretend anymore. She was certain of her truth and I was certain of mine. To this day, I’m convinced she doesn’t know my truth, and I will not be arrogant and assume that I know hers. But what I do know is that after a year of silence, it still hurts in ways I wish it didn’t. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A year ago today, I was at a fork in the road, and I chose to take the road less traveled. Even though the path was unpaved and overgrown with uncertainty and the daunting possibility of utter failure, I couldn’t keep running down the road riddled with flashing lights, every corner crowded with the bewitching lies of comparison, judgment, and unchecked ambition—all moonlighting as a community that was as welcoming as it was damning. One path gave me the option of being guided by chains; the other promised freedom—and yet, freedom is never free. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s funny how each new day can seem overwhelming, and the only way to get through it is one step at a time. So you keep your head down and keep going, until one day you look up and realize how far you’ve come. I used to be running toward a future I thought I could write, until I accepted that dreams don’t come true that way and I’m not in this alone. I’ve got a God who has a plan, and I can’t override what He’s got going on. What He had for me this year wasn’t at all what I expected or what I would have planned for myself. It hasn’t been without its challenges or pain, and somedays giving up seems way easier. But there’s a strength of character inside I know does not belong to me, but to the God who made me and has a purpose He planted inside of me—a purpose that cannot be fulfilled if I give up. So, I keep going. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m still not where I want to be. I bear the festering battle wounds that come with trying to forgive those who hurt me. I bear the doubt that sometimes shows up as a result of adopting a new writing process. I bear the frustrations of seeing the end goal but having no idea how I’ll actually get there...and then I stop and remember, I’m not alone. Even when it feels like I am; even when it feels like I’ve been abandoned; even when I miss what was once familiar and is now nothing more than a painful memory—I’m not alone. My struggle is not unseen. And I’ve come so far, led by more grace and mercy than I deserve....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So here’s to another year. A year where, perhaps, the silence will fade into the cacophony of life as it goes on. A year with new ideas and risks and their accompanying rewards. A year of more healing and renewed strength. A year of adventure along the unpaved path created just for me by the greatest Author of all time. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-72987453211212227472018-11-23T08:51:00.000-08:002018-11-23T08:51:54.877-08:00Christmas is coming!Hello, Friends!<br />
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It's been a few days since I've had the chance to sit down and write an update for you guys, and I certainly have a list of exciting news I simply <i>need</i> to tell you! So - on this Black Friday (which I happily will spend safely cooped up inside) I thought I'd take the time and give you the run-down of what I've got going on.<br />
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If you were to suggest to me a year ago to put a few of my books into Kindle Unlimited - I would have told you no. I didn't like the idea of my books being on one platform <i>exclusively</i> - not to mention the one platform that causes me the most frustration. But I've had quite the year. I've changed my mind about a lot of things. Being in a much healthier mental state in regards to my writing has made me more flexible and bolstered my willingness to take chances - which is why I now have just about half of my library enrolled in KU.<br />
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For any of my new readers out there subscribed to KU, I thought I'd give you a bit of a reading order for the titles I have available (as my stories can be a bit incestuous, ha.) I put three series in there - Mountains & Men, Tennessee Grace, and my Savior Series. Basically, they flow right into another as I have them listed, each series spinning off of the other by way of a secondary character. You certainly don't have to read one series to understand another - but Tennessee Grace and the Savior Series are the most intertwined, with Ashley and Corie (Tennessee Grace) making a few notable appearances in Jill and Leo's story (Book 1 & 2 of the Savior Series.) There's only one story that kind of throws off the natural flow of things (so far...) which brings me to my next bit of news!<br />
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It's <i>officially</i> Christmas season! So I feel at full liberty to tell you - I decided to write a Christmas novella, staring my beloved guitar legend, Ashley Hicks, and his backwoods belle. It'll be live in just a couple of weeks! I've never written a holiday piece before, so this was something fun and new for me. I hope you all enjoy it. If you haven't met Ashley and Corie yet - now's your chance to catch up!<br />
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(P.S. If you're a blogger and you'd like to sign up to help promote Rock-N-Roll Christmas, you can sign up for all the info <a href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdr9ciGzwAqGIGF-WGg0JI7wXM8hgKFw_lY-G-uyD6UxGy1PQ/viewform">here</a>.)<br />
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It's time for me to go help put up a Christmas tree - but before I go, how about a synopsis for Rock-N-Roll Christmas.<br />
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It's 12 days before Christmas, and all is not right.</div>
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With two perfect babes, all should be merry and bright.</div>
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But for Ashley and Corie, whose lives are far from a bore,</div>
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Turns out life has a bit of a surprise in store.</div>
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With big news no amount of cupcakes can fix,</div>
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What will Ashley do to cheer up his dear Mrs. Hicks?</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-14630894544645734342018-11-08T09:00:00.000-08:002018-11-08T09:00:05.996-08:00why I don't participate in NaNoWriMoFor a long time, I had no idea what NaNoWriMo was. To be 100% honest, since I've never actually done it, I feel like I still only have a vague idea of what it is. I know the goal is to write 50,000 words in a month. I'm unclear if there are specific rules or if you can do what you want; if you have to write an entire novel (which could actually be more than 50K words) or if you can write 10K words of one piece and the first 40K of another. I just don't know. And yeah - I could look it up and find the answer in less than five minutes, but I don't see the point, so I'm not gonna.<br />
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After I published and I started writing at a more vigorous rate, somehow November would come around, and I'd always be in editing mode. Every time. Even when there was a time when I might have entertained the idea of participating, I had other obligations. Though, for a couple years, it wasn't that big of a deal that I couldn't participate. I didn't need to be pushed or challenged to set a goal and reach it. I was a workaholic. I pushed myself. I challenged myself. And 50K words in a month was nothing. In fact, if I only wrote 50K words, I was behind.<br />
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Then life happened. I got burned out. And now - the reason why I'm not participating has been flipped on its head.<br />
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The thought of being part of a community all striving to write 50,000 words in four weeks makes me feel like someone is walking toward me with a straight jacket. It makes me anxious and uncomfortable. I might write 50K in November just because I'm actually (for the first time in years) working on a project at the moment. But to set that goal, knowing how I get when I set a goal, it feels like a really unhealthy decision.<br />
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However, I applaud those who are going to participate this year! I wish everyone much success - and I hope it yields awesome stories and that unique feeling of accomplishment that comes with finishing a thing. I'll be writing right along side of you - I just won't be counting my words.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-66531441914464016272018-11-01T15:05:00.000-07:002018-11-01T15:05:00.989-07:00#oktowrimo recap!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So - it's officially November. Which is crazy. On the one hand, I'm excited Thanksgiving is right around the corner! (I need a break from work, and I'm really looking forward to going home. Plus, Thanksgiving is my fave.) On the other hand, I'm a little sad to see October go. It was actually a really great and productive month for me. I had some things shift in terms of my writing focus, but I've got some pretty amazing things in the works, so stay tuned! I also spent a lot of time with people - which I know is good for me - and it was an overall good time.<br />
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PLUS - I hosted my first Instagram Challenge - #oktowrimo. It. Was. AWESOME! There were so many people who participated, which was mind blowing, and I loved every minute of it. It was fun checking in on people every day, and learning new things about writers in my social media community. In fact, it was so fun, I plan on doing it again. Coming this December, I'll be hosting the challenge #merryandwrite!<br />
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Guess that means I'm going to need some new questions....while I brainstorm, here's a recap of my month!<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1. What are your October writing goals? Finish writing a last minute short story for a soon-to-be-revealed project. Write to the point in Bryn Van Doren for Khal and Jess to FINALLY meet each other. (It's been forever, y'all. I might be at 30K before they're in the same room as each other.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2. What's one of your non-writing October goals? I'd like to read 2 books not penned by me! Also, attend hot yoga at least once a week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3. In which season does your WIP take place and why? It starts in the middle of summer, but it should take me into the winter, I think. A few reasons it starts in the summer is because I needed the weather to be warm enough to set sail on the water in New York; I wanted to establish that Khalohn will wear a suit, no matter how hot and humid it is outside; I also needed a holiday to spark an event at a particular point in my plot, and that holiday is Labor Day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">4. Do you work on one manuscript at a time or multiple? One. Technically. Which is why I'm only 20K into The Lies of Bryn Van Doren, because I have to keep stopping for other things. I stopped to do my final Severed edits (which was more involved than I thought it would be.) And I've had to stop again for this short story I've got going on. So, while I have two WIPs, I can only focus my attention on one at a time. I can't toggle back and forth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">5. Music while you write - yay or nay? It depends. If I'm someplace public, yay. It's a must. If I'm at home, maybe. When it's really quiet, and I can't hear any of my neighbors, and I'm feeling motivated - nay. If I'm distracted, but intent on writing, sometimes music helps.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">6. What does an ideal Saturday look like to you? I wake up, I meal prep, I clean, I write, then I veg. I may or may not do all of these things in my sleep clothes - and I never unlock my front door. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7. All things pumpkin or hard pass? Yes to all things pumpkin! Well, let me clarify. Pumpkin beer? Yes, please! Pumpkin spice chai latte? Yes - with soy, please. Pumpkin treats? .... Am I making them?? If the answer is yes, then...pumpkin recipes? YES! Using actual pumpkins? No. I don't do canned pumpkin, and seeding then baking an actual pumpkin just sounds like torture. So, I happily substitute sweet potato or butternut squash in all of my favorite pumpkin recipes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8. Do you write full-time or do you have another job? I have another full-time job. I'm an office manager.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9. What's your favorite Halloween or Horror movie? I'm not really into Halloween or Horror movies. Though, I remember totally being into Casper when I was a kid. Not the cartoon (is there a cartoon?) but the live action one. Does that count?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10.What's the most challenging aspect of your WIP? The character development. I think. With this piece, I'm laying a really solid foundation - which involves a lot of background information - but it's my intent not to tell the reader anything in this book, but to show the reader everything. And that's been a challenge that has forced me to take my time in such a way that makes me impatient with myself. But I think it'll be worth it. Also, because I don't want my hero and heroine to meet until after I've established who they are, there is the added challenge of writing in such a way that I keep the reader's attention in a romance novel where the main characters don't meet each other until I'm good and ready.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11. If your hero and/or heroine existed outside of your head, would you be friends? My hero and I would definitely not be friends. Maybe if we had met in college - but the man he is when the novel starts? We do not run in the same circles. At. All. #NYCElite My heroine and I probably wouldn't be friends, either. If she met me, she'd be nice to me - but there's an age gap that would prevent us from ever really having a time in life that we could connect. Then if you add on the fact that both characters grew up on the east coast and I grew up in CO? That rules out any and all possibilities. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12. What are you doing this weekend? Well, last weekend I was spontaneously social, which is not like me. This weekend, I plan on running my errands before hot yoga this evening and then shutting myself in until church on Sunday! I've got a novella to edit for a client, and a short story to edit of my own - and I'd like to do it in peace! (And if I'm super productive, I'll reward myself with some Netflix.) Oh! And I should squeeze in some research....it's going to be time to vote soon.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">13. What's the best Halloween costume you've ever worn? I was in kindergarten. My cousin (also in kindergarten) and my brother (18 months my junior) and I were all dinosaurs. Our costumes were homemade and adorable. I had pink spots, they had blue and green. We were super cute and awesome. But the best part was that we wore these costumes to the harvest festival at church - and our moms gave us signs we carried around that said "The gap theory." Hil-a-ri-ous! Guess I can't take credit for that gem of a costume, but hey - I'm alright with that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">14. Do you have a song you associate with your hero? Yes. So, actually, I've got two heroes wandering around in my head right now. The hero in the short story I'm just about ready to shelf (and whose name I'm going to keep to myself for a little while longer) the song I associate with him is "Burning Man" by Dierks Bentley. There's something about the way the song sounds, the tone of it, the tempo, and Dierks' voice - it makes me think of my hero. Then there's my guy Khalohn, who is on the opposite side of the spectrum. Without a doubt, the song I associate with him is "The Sound of Silence." Only, not the original Simon and Garfunkel version - but the cover Disturbed did. It's spot on. Dark and emotionally riveting....yeah. Totally Khalohn. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">15. What's your hero's best friend like? Khal's best friend is....Handsome. Suave. Brilliant. Rich. Outgoing. He's obnoxious but charming. He gets around - if you know what I mean - but he's also loyal. He plays hard, but he works harder - and there's a girl out there who's bound to knock him on his ass, but he hasn't met her yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">16. How do you approach your word count goals? I used to be kind of a beast about my word count goals - like 3K a day, 5K would be even better (if I had to work) or 10K in a weekend. I was relentless to the point of burnout. Now, I'm a recovering workaholic. These days, I set small goals. If I sit down to write, I want to try and get out at least 1K words each session (more on the weekends.) Some days are harder than others, but for me it's all about maintaining balance and still prioritizing my writing. I'm learning to be more concerned with the quality of work I lay down and not the speed at which I produce it. On a grander scope, I don't set word count goals for my novels. They are as long as they need to be and that's that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">17. How many times do you read through your story in the editing phase? It depends. Usually no less than 4 times (it might have been 3 for a novel or two, but those days are long gone.) The most I've read a piece is 6, I believe. 7 just seems like the definition of insanity. At some point, I'm not fixing my story anymore, you know? I'm picking it apart and messing it up because I don't see it as a whole anymore, but as little pieces strung together. And when I see it completely disjointed like that - it messes with the integrity of it, so I have to let it go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">18. Hardback of paperback? Well, considering I just released a book today - in hard cover - I'm going to go ahead and say, hard cover! (In truth, holding my book in any form is amazing. Though, my book in hardback is a new thrill I'm totally in love with!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">19. Do you have a song you associate with your heroine? Oh, my gosh - let me be doing something (anything!) when "Sorry, Not Sorry" by Demi Lovato comes on. My brain will stop whatever it is I'm doing and take me directly to Jessica. Without fail. It's so distracting....and I love it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">20. What's your heroine's best friend like? Jess's best friend is....Beautiful. Masculine. Effeminate. Graceful. Confident. He's straight forward but kind. He's got a little bit of elitism in his blood, but he's down to earth. He has impeccable taste in clothes, and he always smells good. Best of all, he'd do anything for Jess - anything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">21. Gloss or Matte (covers)? Matte! My first series (and Backwoods Belle) I had done in gloss. It seemed to fit. But when I discovered the beauty of matte...I was in love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">22. What made you decide to publish? (Or what's stopping you, if you haven't yet?) The goal was always to share my writing. Even when I was penning stories on notebook paper, they didn't seem to hold any value unless I let someone else's eyes roam over the words. For a while, one person would do - one person was all my work was worth, in my opinion. And then...then I wrote something I thought was not mine to keep. And the rest is history.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">23. Are you a short story/novella kind of writer, or do you prefer novel length? I prefer novel length. I like all the details and all the feels and I've never considered myself a writer of few words. I've published three novellas and one short story that are all tied to longer works because...it just wasn't enough words. However, I've recently written a short story that will remain as such. It was a challenge and a growth opportunity I foresee myself trying again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">24. Do you give your main characters middle names? Michael/Jane. Patrick/Jade. Aiden/Elizabeth. Cornelius/Elise. Stewart/Hailey. Danyl/Rose. Mariah. Lawrence/Tatiana. Corbin/Leigh. Magnolia. Nicole. Isidro/Luella. Laurel/Petunia. Sheldon/Lucille. In short - yes. And if they don't have a middle name, they are usually of the male persuasion and it's intentional. (I mean, come on, with a name like Coder - who needs a middle name?) (Also - One of those middle names I never wrote in the book, and that too was intentional.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">25. How much do your hero's shoes cost? $1,990.00....because he can.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">26. Is your heroine all about the sneakers, all about the heels, or somewhere in between? Jess is totally down for a pair of sexy heels when she's going out for a night on the town. But - during the day, she's more likely to rock a pair of converse or cute flats. She's not so much a sneaker girl.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">27. Do you prefer to write in past tense or present tense? I've done both. Most recently past. It's not really a matter of preference so much as it's a matter of the tone of the story and the natural flow of the thing. I started writing Severed in present tense. It was my go-to for 16 books. But I got a couple chapters in, and present tense felt all wrong and got me all confused and twisted up, so I rewrote it in past...and it worked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">28. Are you a first person story teller or a third person narrator? I wrote in first person for the better part of three years and sixteen titles. Then - she took a turn, and decided it might be worth her while to try her hand at third person. What she found, as she traversed the road less traveled in the realm of indie romance, was a challenge wrapped in the opportunity to use her words in ways she'd never been able to before, whilst stuck within the confines of her character's minds. As a narrator, she could tell the story from a vantage point that gave her the freedom she didn't know she'd love. 😉</span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; word-spacing: 1px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">29. Will you participate in this years' NaNoWriMo? No. In all honesty, as a recovering workaholic, the pressure of a word count goal driven by a community built in order to keep each other accountable - yeah, no thank you. The ambitious beast inside of me is better left alone with my own small goals. If I write 50K words, go me. If I don't, that's okay, too. As long as I write - I've got a couple surprises up my sleeve to finish by the end of the year!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">30. Did you crush your October goals? hahahahaha - NOPE. I did attend yoga at least once a week, and I did finish writing the last minute short story I wanted to (which is actually more of a novella.) So I guess those were half of my goals. I didn't read 2 books not penned by me. Well, not technically. I edited one - which involves reading, so there's that; and I'm in the middle of reading another...but I'm just going to say I didn't handle that goal. And, turns out, I've come to the conclusion I'm not quite ready to write the novel I was working on. So, I've set it aside for now. Instead, I'm working on a special project I'll be announcing soon! I've got some exciting things in the works, and I'm looking forward to sharing them with you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">31. Trick or Treat? Treat. Every time. And can I just say, to everyone who participated in #oktowrimo, even if just for a post or two, THANK YOU! It's seriously been a real treat. This is the first time I've ever hosted any sort of IG challenge, and I have been blown away with the amount of posts attached to this hashtag. It's certainly not about me at all, but about our writing community and the amazing authors and readers who are interested in our work. Even still, it was a thrill for me to have so many people come along for the #oktowrimo ride. We'll have to do it again sometime. 😏 #merryandwrite</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-38644765565775092642018-10-25T18:00:00.000-07:002018-10-25T18:00:13.064-07:00how I come up with new story ideasI've got more than a dozen stories published, and twice as many ideas that are just floating around in my head, waiting for their turn in line. I think as a writer, part of the drive that beckons you to get your idea down on paper is spurred on by the reality that there's not enough room in your head to keep all the ideas - so you have to get some out. And then you just keep going, because the ideas don't stop coming.<br />
<br />
At least, that's how it is for me.<br />
<br />
My story ideas come from two places, generally speaking. What I'm writing and the "what if" space.<br />
Of the 17 titles I've published, only four of them have come from the "what if" space, and the rest came from my propensity to create secondary characters who were never destined to stand in the wings and just outside of the spotlight forever.<br />
<br />
<i>The Promises We Keep</i> was a re-write. The original idea actually came from a real life relationship. I was working a summer job and one of my co-workers told me about her boyfriend and how they had decided to split for a year - just to make sure that they were it for each other. It seemed crazy. But also kind of amazing. And I thought...<i>what if?</i> That one novel turned into a series that consists of seven books; it also inspired a spin-off series with four more books. I kept unintentionally (and happily and gratefully) creating characters who were broken and alone or both, and I needed to fix that. <i>Need</i> being the operative word. <i>So Much More - </i> Sarah and Brandon? I never would have chosen those names for my main characters. Ever. Turns out, they chose me. (This, of course, has made me smarter and more strategic about naming my secondary characters.)<br />
<br />
My second <i>what if</i> came about when I was invited to be a part of an anthology. I had to create a character who had a beard. That was it. Well, I didn't have one of those - so I dreamed one up. A rockstar - because who better to pin a short story about than a guitar legend? Turns out - I couldn't leave well enough alone, my short story had a sequel, that came in the form of a novel, which then inspired another spin-off series that currently has three novels with two more still floating around in my head.<br />
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While all my stories hold a special place in my heart, my <i>what if</i> ideas are the ones that really excite me. Most recently, my <i>what if</i> ideas are challenges I put before myself. Like, what if I were to write a mystery/suspense romance? Or, what if I were to try my hand at a taboo romance? What if I wanted to write a single mom, or a dad's best friend romance? What if I wanted to dream up a motorcycle club? Who would the characters be? In what ways would they be broken or hurt? Who would love them, and why? What if she was shy? What if he was sweet? What if he had sworn off love? What if she loved a man she couldn't have? What if? <i>What if?</i><br />
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I'll tell you - I'd have a boat load of ideas and not enough time to write them!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-56165972091167036392018-10-18T08:30:00.000-07:002018-10-18T08:30:07.845-07:0036 Chapters Fought ForBefore I published my debut, when I was writing novels and then abandoning them on some hard drive or another, people would ask me when I was going to do something with one of them. If you're a writer who hasn't published yet, you may have experienced such inquires; and if you're anything like me, your answer is easy. None of them are the one. None of them deserve the effort required for you to champion those stories. You'll know it when you feel it. When I wrote my debut, I felt it - <i>this</i> was the story I would champion. <i>The Promises We Keep</i> was/is a manifestation of my bravery. It's the evidence of my ambition to chase a dream. It's not perfect - not by a long shot - but I wouldn't change it. The woman who wrote that, the story teller she was, the life she'd lived - she's preserved in those pages. To change it would be to rewrite history. I wouldn't dare.<br />
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Today, I am publishing my seventeenth book. Many would tell you this never gets old - that the excitement of it all is never tarnished; or the nerves they feel always creep up on them, as if they've never released a novel before; or even that the pride they harbor and the thrill of watching their book sell never loses its luster.<br />
<br />
For me, that's not the case.<br />
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Honestly, today - I'll go to work and get carried away with my day and my responsibilities. The anticipation and the rush I used to feel when I released a book - it won't be there. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited for people to read this story. I hope people enjoy it! And if anyone is gracious enough to tell me about their experience of reading Cruiz and Hanna's story, I will feel humbled and thankful for their commentary - 'cause that, the magic of my story alive in someone else's imagination, that never - <i>ever</i> - gets old. I can't imagine that it ever well. But for me, the thrill of release day - it doesn't exist. For me, the significance of today is weightier than the hype I used to put into occasions such as this. Today is not about the chase. It's not about reviews or sales or seeing my cover plastered all over social media. I'm not hunting for the spotlight. I'm not hungry for attention. I'm just grateful. So very, humbly <i>grateful. </i>This, my friends, is a dawning of a new era - and I will relish the significance of it all with a quiet toast and a shout-out to the God who gave me this heart that's stronger than I can take credit for.<br />
<i><br /></i>
You see, while <i>The Promises We Keep</i> is a manifestation of my bravery - <i>Severed</i> is a manifestation of my perseverance. It is proof of my dedication to my passion for words and stories about love. <i>Severed</i> is the evidence of my hard work and my sticktoitiveness. It is hours - days - months of not giving up; of fighting through fatigue; of trudging through the ashes of my old self in order to write what I wanted, the way I wanted to, without worrying about what everyone else was doing or how I'd measure up. The release of <i>Severed</i> is an accomplishment that means more to me than any fanfare could ever express. It's 36 chapters I fought for. The pages might not be covered in blood, but the mindsets I had to battle against in order to get this story out - I don't even think I can fully appreciate how hard it was, because I lived it; because I was too determined to make it to the end to worry about how difficult the whole process ended up being.<br />
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The woman who wrote this story, the story teller I am right now, the journey my writing has taken as I've traversed the path behind me - it is all preserved on these pages, in this book. It might not be perfect, but I sure as hell am proud of it. And while I might not be scouring the internet, wondering if anyone is even interested in it, I will celebrate this day.<br />
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I hope you <a href="http://www.rcmartinbooks.com/" target="_blank">#readsevered</a>. I hope you get lost in the love story I've penned. I hope you feel some sort of connection with Hanna and Cruiz. I hope you fall in love right along with them. And I hope you'll tell me about it. It's as simple as that.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-31746888140086527132018-10-01T07:00:00.000-07:002018-10-01T07:00:10.643-07:00#oktowrimoHappy October!<br />
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I can't remember the last time I was this excited for a Monday. And why, you might ask, am I excited about this one? Because of #OKTOWRIMO!<br />
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So this is what happened. I had so much fun with the two Instagram challenges I'd done for August and September, I wanted to do one for October. Only, when I went looking for one, I couldn't find any. (Maybe because I was looking too early?? Maybe because I'm a novice IG searcher?? I <i>did</i> stumble across the two I did before....but I digress.) Since I couldn't find a challenge, my good friend and marketing partner suggested I make one. I hesitated at first, then I thought - what the hay, why not?<br />
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Turns out, it's fun having a little say in what questions I want to answer about my life or my writing or my characters. So 31 questions later (and 31 is A LOT, in case you were wondering) I was simply left with the daunting task of dreaming up a hashtag. A few were tossed around until one in particular just came to me. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/oktowrimo/" target="_blank">#oktowrimo</a> is my shoutout to autumn, beer, and writing....which are basically three of my favorite things in life.<br />
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I tried to think of a few questions that touched on non-writing aspects of life, in hopes that people would participate and we'd get to know each other as <i>more</i> than writers - because we're all more than our craft, even if we sometimes forget. I also tossed in a few questions I often ask myself; like, if your characters existed outside of your head, would you be friends with them? Also, with the exorbitant amount of research I've been doing for Jess and Khal's novel, I couldn't resist asking the question about how much your hero's shoes cost - because I just so happen to know how much Khalohn's cost.<br />
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The cool thing about being the author of a challenge is I'm asking questions I haven't necessarily been asked before - which allows me to not only share with my followers a little bit more about me and my process, but it's also an opportunity to hopefully challenge some writers out there to think of answers to questions perhaps they've never been asked, either.<br />
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I wasn't sure how many people would play along with me. But so far - before we've even really begun - the response has been amazing. If you're reading this, if you're an author, and if you're on Instagram and not a part of this challenge, I hope you'll join us! And if you're a reader, I hope you'll follow the hashtag this month and maybe meet a few new authors along the way.<br />
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Hooray! It's officially time for <a href="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/oktowrimo/" target="_blank">#oktowrimo</a>!<br />
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1. What are your October writing goals?<br />
2. What's one of your non-writing October goals?<br />
3. In which season does your WIP take place and why?<br />
4. Do you work on one manuscript at a time or multiple?<br />
5. Music while you write - yay or nay?<br />
6. What does an ideal Saturday look like to you?<br />
7. All things pumpkin or hard pass?<br />
8. Do you write full-time or do you have another job?<br />
9. What's your favorite Halloween or Horror movie?<br />
10.What's the most challenging aspect of your WIP?<br />
11. If your hero and/or heroine existed outside of your head, would you be friends?<br />
12. What are you doing this weekend?<br />
13. What's the best Halloween costume you've ever worn?<br />
14. Do you have a song you associate with your hero?<br />
15. What's your hero's best friend like?<br />
16. How do you approach word count goals?<br />
17. How many times do you read through your story in the editing phase?<br />
18. Hardback or paperback?<br />
19. Do you have a song you associate with your heroine?<br />
20. What's your heroine's best friend like?<br />
21. Gloss or Matte (covers)?<br />
22. What made you decide to publish? (Or what's stopping you, if you haven't yet?)<br />
23. Are you a short story/novella kind of writer, or do you prefer novel length?<br />
24. Do you give your main characters middle names?<br />
25. How much do your hero's shoes cost?<br />
26. Is your heroine all about the sneakers, all about the heels, or somewhere in between?<br />
27. Do you prefer to write in past tense or present tense?<br />
28. Are you a first person story teller or a third person narrator?<br />
29. Will you participate in this years' NaNoWriMo?<br />
30. Did you crush your October goals?<br />
31. Trick or Treat?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-22592418170541950502018-09-30T09:54:00.000-07:002018-09-30T09:54:23.126-07:00The Hashtag AdventureI blinked, and it was the end of September. I'm not entirely sure how that happened - but here we are.<br />
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For the last couple of months, I've had the pleasure of participating in a couple of writer's Instagram challenges. I joined #romancewritersaugust after I'd randomly stumbled across it in my feed. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/artisdigitalmedia/" target="_blank">@artisdigitalmedia</a> manages my Instagram. I'm so grateful for our partnership, as her work allows me to interact with readers on my favorite platform while still directing most of my spare time toward my writing. Though, she's been trying to get me to offer a personal touch to the daily posts for a while. It was something I wanted, for sure; and every time she gave me a prompt, I could respond - but to have an entire month's worth of posts to supply her with ammunition was like gold. It was also really fun. Every day, I knew what my answers would be - but waiting to see which picture she would post with my copy was exciting. It was so fun, we decided to join #writetogther for a September challenge. I think a couple of the best parts of doing these challenges has been the evolution of my partnership with @artisdigitalmedia, as well as the opportunity to feel a part of something with a community of writers in a way that I truly enjoy.<br />
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Now, for those of you who might not follow me on IG - or if the algorithm of your feed caused you to miss a few posts - I thought I'd recap the last couple of months and let you know what I've been up to!<br />
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#romancewritersaugust</blockquote>
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1 - August Goal: Write five times a week.<br />
I've learned that while goals are extraordinary tools in my writing endeavors, they can also just as easily lead to destructive habits if I'm not careful. So this month, I don't have a word count goal, I don't have any aspirations to make it to any specific point in my WIP, I just want to make it a priority to write at least five times a week.<br />
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2 - Author photo...<br />
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3 - Do you use your real name or a pen name? Both, I suppose. R. and C. are my initials, Martin is my last name; I’ve always considered this a pen name, as I don't answer to R.C. in any other sphere.<br />
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4 - What makes your WIP one of an kind?: It’s one of a kind because I’m the one writing it.<br />
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5 - First time you discovered you loved writing: I was 17 when I realized I enjoyed writing. I had this AP Lit teacher who made analytical papers seem more like artistic jigsaw puzzles, and I love jigsaw puzzles. For some reason, writing more than for academic purposes seemed like a great idea, so I penned my first book (literally with pen and paper) my senior year of high school. The rest, as they say, is history.<br />
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6 - WIP character similar to you: I've written enough fictional characters to get to that point where I can honestly say, the characters in my WIP (at least the ones with significance) are not like me. Not really. They're like THEM, which is even better<br />
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7 - How many books have you written?: I believe I'm somewhere around 27, but I've only published 16 of them with one waiting in the wings.<br />
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8 - WIP hero/heroine's age: My hero, Khalohn, is 35. My heroine, Jessica, is almost 24.<br />
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9 - "Book lover's day" how many do you own?: Too many to count, mostly because I'm lazy, not because I have a ton of them. I actually just gave away a couple boxes full. Oh, unless you count the books on my kindle, then I really do have too many to count--and that's not at all because I'm lazy, it's because I know I have more than I will ever read in this lifetime.<br />
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10 - My most recently purchased book: The Chemist by Stephanie Meyer - partly because I really liked The Host and haven't read anything by Meyer since then; partly because she wrote it in third person, and that's kind of my thing these days.<br />
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11 - Which romance author inspires you? This has always been a pretty difficult question for me, because the answer is usually "I don't know." Today, I think the honest answer would be Nicholas Sparks, but not because of his writing. It’s confusing, because my reasons are complicated. I just, I don't know, I like where his fiction fits. And if that makes any sense to you, you now understand me a little bit more than most.<br />
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12 - The first line of my #wip: “Atzel stands on the curb, his right hand casually holding his left wrist as he waits for his employer.”<br />
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13 - Plotter or Panster? BOTH! The only published book I have out right now I wrote an outline for is The Bridgewater Case. Oh, and I wrote a skeleton of an outline for the suspense element in Tethered. Everything else was a product of what was in my head at the time. But having seen both sides, I now appreciate the value of an outline. My WIP? It has a 17 page outline, and I totally dig having a road map.<br />
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14 - Fun fact about my WIP hero? Khalohn enjoys doing the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle.<br />
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15 - Fun fact about my WIP heroine? Jessica...well, it's a bit of a secret I don't reveal until chapter ten. So, I guess you'll have to wait and see.<br />
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16 - Which writing apps do I use? When you say writing app...what do you mean? Haha. I guess maybe I'm old school? I don't use any apps. I use Google Drive and Microsoft Word and that's about it.<br />
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17 - Current Read....I will shamelessly admit, I've been reading Fool For You by...me.<br />
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18 - Hero's flirting style. Well, if you knew the plot, you'd understand why Khalohn doesn't flirt. He doesn't have to.<br />
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19 - Heroine's flirting style. Hmmm...I'm not entirely sure. She hasn't shown me yet. She hasn't been in the position to do so. But I see her as a playful flirt.<br />
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20 - Coffee or Tea.....TEA!!!!!<br />
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21 - Hero's weaknesses? Uhm....Jessica.<br />
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22 - Heroine's weaknesses? Apple pie.<br />
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23 - My idea of a romantic date? Man, I don't even know. Honestly. It's been a really long time since I've been on one. And I'm not sure I've ever been on one I thought was particularly romantic (she admits before she sings: don't cry for me Argentina)<br />
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24 - Most romantic, sunrise or sunset? Sunrise. I love a sunrise.<br />
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25 - Summarize hero/heroine's first kiss. Hahaha....me? Summarize a kiss? Have you met me?<br />
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26 - My WIPs antagonists strengths? Her anonymity.<br />
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27 - An emotional snippet in my WIP:<br />
The click of his shoes on the sidewalk beckons her to turn in his direction, and he folds her in his arms the second her first tear falls. Neither one of them speaks as she crumbles a little in his hold. She chokes on her burgeoning sob, clinging unabashedly to his sleek suit. He holds her tighter, and she loves him harder. Gritting her teeth together, Jessica breathes in the elegant scent of Bleu De Chanel she associates with her best friend, trying to swallow the knot threatening to split her throat wide open.<br />
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“Let it out, Jess. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” murmurs Stefano as he presses a kiss into her hair.<br />
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While his words are meant to grant her permission to fall apart, she doesn’t have the luxury of such fragility. Instead, she grabs hold of his lapels and presses her fists against his chest, shoving herself out his hold. Her brown eyes catch his hazel ones, and his arms fall to his sides in helpless understanding. Jessica drags in a lungful of air, then another, blowing out each one in a huff. She then sniffles, sweeps her fingers beneath her eyes, and takes hold of one of his hands.<br />
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“Jess—”<br />
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“Coffee,” she states with a shake of her head.<br />
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Stefano allows her to lead him back into the diner without question.<br />
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28 - Have you traveled to your WIP's location? YES! I'm so excited I can say that. It's in New York City. I haven't been to all the places the novel explores, but a few of them.<br />
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29 - If your WIP becomes a movie, which actors would play your characters? I'm going to answer this like the analytical person I am and say - I don't know. The thing is, your actors have to have chemistry. Plus, we all know, casting is rarely what we dream up in our head. However, this novel of mine comes complete with a couple of famous muses. In my head, Khalohn is Jake Gyllenhaal (with a beard) and my heroine is Minka Kelly.<br />
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30 - Is your WIP a stand-alone or series? Mmmm....this kinda thing is always hard to say. But Jess and Khal don't get any other books, so let's just say stand- alone.<br />
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#writetogether</blockquote>
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1 Okay - I'm three days late to this party, because I didn't think I wanted to come....but then I changed my mind. So, allow me to play catch-up. What are your goals for September? Well, I'd like to finish editing Cruiz & Hanna so I can get back to Khal and Jess. I'd also like to publish something, just for fun. I think I can do all of the above.<br />
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2 Tell us about the setting of your WIP. Why did you choose it? So, since I've had to set Khal and Jess aside to wrap up Severed, I'll tell you about Severed's setting. It's in a small town in Tennessee I'd never heard of and have never been. Why I choose it? Because I needed a centralized location between Winchester, TN and Nashville, TN...and that's all you get. If you really want to know more, you'll just have to read the book when it comes out! (Though, I'll admit, the setting is more of an obligatory detail and not a focal point in this novel.)<br />
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3 What's my main character's guilty pleasure? I don't know that Cruiz feels guilty about much. At least nothing rated PG. Hanna, on the other hand, she likes to eat ice cream out of the carton.<br />
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4 Is your story autobiographical at all? Severed - nope. The Lies of Bryn Van Doren - Ha! Not even a little bit.<br />
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5 Was your WIP influenced by any other author's work? Isn't everybody's work in some way, shape, or form influenced by something they've read or seen? I mean, I could say no - that neither of the stories I'm working on where influenced by anyone....except, yesterday I admitted they weren't autobiographical in anyway, which means my ideas came from somewhere that is not marked as "life experience". So, while I can't pinpoint any influencer in particular...I'll just say - isn't everybody's work in some way, shape, or form influenced by something they've read or seen?<br />
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6 How long have you been working on this project? What stage are you in? I've been working on Severed since January - which is an excruciatingly long for me. But I'm learning a lot about myself and my new process and the importance of perseverance and patience and expectations. I'm also almost done, thank goodness. My fifth read brought about more revisions than I expected - so I have to read it one more time. But I'm hoping the sixth time is a charm. The Lies of Bryn Van Doren is a book I started in August, when I needed a break from Severed. My hero and heroine haven't even met yet - so we're just getting started.<br />
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7 When writer's block hits, what's your best advice for breaking through? Uhm, I don't really believe in writer's block. I understand getting stuck - in which case, I usually go back and search for the reason. Most of the time, I've gone too fast and I need to slow down and develop something that will enable me to keep going. And if it's not that, I just walk away for a bit. Sometimes, your brain (or your story) needs you to take a breath and do something else. Deadlines be damned.<br />
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8 If you could ask (or tell) your MC any one thing, what would it be? Cruiz, you're one of the most noble men I've ever written. Thank you for that. But it's time you and I parted ways. I've got to go break down Khal's walls, now.<br />
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9 When is your favorite time to write? ....when the words are there. Honestly, I'd like to say 5:00am is my favorite time to write - but my routine/creativity/whatever you want to call it doesn't work like that. Neither does my life. I'm a morning person who has to go to work in the morning, which means my writing gets my leftover energy most of the time. I will say, I prefer to write when the sun is still out. But if the words are flowing and the sun is long gone, that's fine by me, too.<br />
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10 Where is your favorite place to write? Anywhere that I can find focus. I have a writing desk that sometimes hits the spot - but then sometimes my couch is where I want to be (it's so comfy.) Then again, I've been doing most of my final Severed edits in my bed...so, yeah. Wherever I can find focus.<br />
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11 Share those writing snacks! I can't snack and write. Either I'm snacking or I'm writing. It's really one or the other. Seriously. I might have good intentions of doing both - but at some point, I'm just chewing and reaching and staring at my computer screen, which isn't productive. So...snacks are for writing breaks. And if it's a really good writing day - getting up for food is an irritating inconvenience.<br />
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12 What hobbies do you have outside of writing? I like to crotchet! I also love doing jigsaw puzzles. So relaxing.<br />
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13 Do you aspire to be traditionally published, or do you want to do it all independently? I used to declare self-publish all the way. Now I'm kind of on the fence. Traditional would be cool, too; but I'm not, like, holding my breath or anything.<br />
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14 What's the best piece of creative advice you've ever been given? Rest. That might not be creative, but it's the greatest advice I've been given since I started on this writing/publishing journey. Let your brain rest. Your characters will still be there when you get back.<br />
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15 What's the worst piece of creative advice you've ever been given? I wrote a rockstar, right? I was looking for helpful marketing tips to try and get Sage some attention, you know? Someone looked at my covers for the series and said - go on Amazon and search for other books in the same genre. Look at their covers and change yours to match theirs. Be like everyone else. That was her advice......yeah, no.<br />
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16 Do you write in the genre you prefer to read? Short answer? Yes. But I also like to read things that aren't strictly romance. There's something really great about finding a speck of romance in a thriller or a sci-fi or fantasy novel and chasing after that one drop - that one taste of love as it is weaved into a much larger plot. I'm going to write something like that someday.<br />
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17 What's your biggest writing pet peeve? I've got two. (Well, I'm assuming this means things that bug me in my own writing...) When I start sentences with "and" or "but" AND semicolons. Usually, it isn't until my second or third read through the manuscript that I realize, no matter how many I deleted in my first couple rounds of editing, there are still A TRILLION LEFT that I neglected to notice. What's even worse is how I'll fix my "and" and "but" problem by removing the period and adding a semicolon - ridiculous, right? I usually catch those the fourth and sometimes fifth read. Apparently I've got a thing for long sentences or something.<br />
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18 Where do you think you got your love for words/stories? I don't think - I know. AP lit my senior year in high school. My teacher exposed the art of a great thesis statement - and the rest is history.<br />
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19 Give us an excerpt from your current WIP. Well, I know I started this month off with Severed - but today, it is officially no longer a WIP. It's being formatted! So, I'm spending my time with Khal and Jess again. I suppose I can give you a little something.<br />
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Jessica doesn’t have time to panic. She’s late.<br />
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Jogging the short distance that remains between her and her destination, she reaches for the handle of the old, creaky door and hurries into the back hallway of Moby’s Dive. The dimly lit corridor has become quite familiar to Jessica over the course of the last six months. This is why, in spite of her flustered state, she’s aware of the walls covered in paint so ancient, she’s sure she doesn’t want to know what the original color was. They’re plastered in an assortment of vintage posters that weren’t considered so two decades ago, and she’s all but memorized every single one. As she passes by the images of bands ranging from classics to one-hit-wonders, she tucks her hair behind her ears and digs into her purse for her phone. With the device in hand, she pauses and adjusts her shoulder strap, typing out a quick text to her best friend.<br />
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Huey. Emergency. Our place. Off at twilight.<br />
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After she hits send, she peers at the swinging door situated at the end of the hallway. Blowing out a sigh, she combs her fingers through her dark, maple-brown hair, gripping a fistful at the crown of her head as she wills her trepidatious thoughts to take a back seat. Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls” blares over the sound system, oozing through every crack and crevice between her and the main room—the music battling with the roar of the rambunctious crowd awaiting her on the other side. Dropping her phone back into her purse, she shakes away the news threatening to distract her and tries to find her best playful smile.<br />
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Tonight, she can use all the tips she can get.<br />
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20 Does your MC have any pets? Hahaha - no. I've only written one pet in my writing career thus far. Maestro, who was Sage's French bulldog. The thing about writing a pet is you have to remember to take care of the pet just as you would have to remember to take care of a real pet. I had to remember that when Sage was out all night, someone had to watch his pup. And when he went out of town, he had to have a pup-sitter. Not to mention, after a few rounds with Millie, before he could go to sleep, he had to let Maestro out! I mean, these are details that can't be overlooked - and sometimes, I'd just rather not, haha.<br />
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21 Do you have any abandoned manuscripts you wish you could get back to? I try not to abandon manuscripts - but I do have one. And I don't so much wish I could get back to it so much as I wish I could figure out how to create the character I've been wanting to perfect in the hero I was working on. He's been in my head for ages - and I've been able to get bits and pieces of him to come out through other heroes, but I've never been able to capture him as magnificently as he exists in my head....so bits and pieces might be the best I can do.<br />
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22 What are some of your favorite writerly IG accounts? There are so many people in my feed, it's often times overwhelming. But I do have one who pops into my head. Marla Holt. Her feed is so bright and happy - and she does fun things with yarn, which is just perfect.<br />
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23 How do you reward yourself for a good writing session? Haha - I stop writing. Sometimes I'll watch an episode of my current Netflix show.<br />
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24 What is your definition of success? In regards to my writing - doing what I love with integrity.<br />
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25 Who is your biggest cheerleader? Myself, which sounds a little arrogant; but the truth is, even the others who cheer me on can’t always pull me out of the mental holes I dig for myself. They can help, but I’m the one who has to believe I’m more or better than my inner critic would have me believe. </div>
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26 Where do you see yourself and your writing in five years? I don’t know. That depends on what life looks like. My writing and I are in a far different place than I anticipated even a year ago...I’d rather take it one day and one project at a time instead of trying to peek into the future. I hope I’m still writing. I hope I still love it. And I hope I’m better at it. </div>
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27 Is there anything you wish you could tell your younger self about your writing journey? Yeah, it’s not a race. Feels like one if you let it, if you lose sight of why you started in the first place, so don’t get too caught up. </div>
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28 What has been your biggest challenge as a writer? As a writer, all of my challenges have been part of the ride...part of what’s made me better. To mark my progress as a list of challenges doesn’t feel right. Though, as a human—as a woman—as an emotional being, existing in a community full of writers has been my greatest challenge. I wasn’t born with the propensity not to compare. </div>
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29 What has been your greatest success as a writer? Not quitting. 💪🏽</div>
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30 Where can you find me other than IG? I’ve got a website and a blog! www.rcmartinbooks.com</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-51583819291459330942018-09-28T10:00:00.000-07:002018-09-28T10:00:02.809-07:00WorthySo - I did a thing.<br />
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It's actually been a plan of mine, for over a year, to box Sage and Millie's books. It was my intention to release the boxset and kick-start the rest of the series, but then other stories kind of bombarded that notion and demanded my attention. That said, after my summer of <i>R.C. </i>reading, I decided now's the time to wrap Sage and Millie in a new pretty bow and re-release them.<br />
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I'd like to say that the rest of the band's stories will follow soon - but I don't really have a timeline for them. However, I will say, re-reading Sage has birthed a new excitement and determination to write Maddox, Knox, Alex, and Derrick's tales of love. Even more, while I was reacquainting myself with the crew, they decided to switch things up and change my original book ideas - which I love. So, rest assured they will be coming. Eventually. There are a lot of stories in my head, and I can only write one at a time.<br />
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For now - if you haven't met my rocker Sage - you can get his entire collection in just one click!<br />
(Also - I'm SO excited to announce you can buy this baby in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1732780218/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_thcv_p1_i0" target="_blank">HARDCOVER</a> format! Meeep.)<br />
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #222222;">He’s the lead singer of a band on the rise.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;">She’s a professor at the community college.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;">He’s a dreamer, she’s a realist, and they could never work.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;">But when their bodies collide in one night of passion, their lives are forever changed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;">Desire. Angst. Regret. Love. The discordant sounds of reality write their song.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;">Their one night stand is worthy of more than an encore.</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222;">The Rise of Sage McCoy Includes:</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;">Encore Worthy</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;">Worthy of the Harmony</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;">Worthy of the Dissonance</span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;">Worthy of the Melody </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.rcmartinbooks.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1159" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5pAZCRkYRX3Polf90cy9wj01SrGWVRmSJNU2Wo9o1Bu3kn-5B_2UYswE7wGotor_Igc9yXzA3yuN58aUKfcg7n9FNsKeK6BuSLhIcCsQQ05mGR_yz6zbcIJLV8ycp0Bey1mMZAYx5bQ/s1600/WORTHY_Rise-of-Sage-McCoy-FOR-WEB.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #333333; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span id="goog_1937639206"></span><span id="goog_1937639207"></span><br /></i></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-82384474718003578582018-09-23T15:00:00.000-07:002018-09-23T15:00:02.627-07:00Severed - Chapter One Sneak Peek!
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<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
Confession - I still haven't decided the exact date I want to publish this - but it'll fall somewhere within the next three weeks. While I battle my indecisiveness, how about a sneak peek?!? Allow me to introduce....<i>Hanna Dobbs. </i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Chapter One</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Hanna<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Shit, are you sure this is a good
idea?” Sadie asked as she watched Hanna whiz around the hotel suite. They’d
arrived only the day before yesterday, but somehow both women had managed to
have their belongings scattered everywhere.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“No,” Hanna clipped in response.
Her mind raced as she frantically packed her bags.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
She’d been living out of suitcases
for the last four years. She knew how to clear a room of her things in less
than five minutes—but the sense of urgency that had her heart racing now was
brought on by a danger she’d never faced before. Without bothering to stop and
address her best friend politely, she insisted, “It doesn’t matter, Sadie. I
don’t have a choice. Not anymore. I can’t live like this. I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">won’t</i>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
“Fuck. I know,
but—”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“You said it yourself,” she
interrupted. She swept her hair behind her ears and zipped her roller bag
closed. “If I don’t leave now, it’ll be too late.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Sadie freed a heavy sigh. Hanna
could feel the gust of air that passed between her friend’s lips, as if it were
rushing through her insides, bypassing her own lungs and headed straight for
her gut. Her stomach twisted into yet another knot, but she didn’t stop moving.
Instead, she raced for the bathroom. Her makeup and hair care products were
strewn across the vanity. Without even giving it a second thought, she extended
her arm and swept it all into the oversized purse that hung from her shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
She didn’t mean to, but in the
next instant, her eyes caught sight of her reflection in the gigantic mirror in
front of her. For a second, she couldn’t stop herself from pausing to stare at
the girl she saw. And that’s exactly what she saw—a girl. Not a twenty-year-old
woman, but a frightened, stubborn, willful, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">desperate</i> little girl. It wasn’t until she spotted the reflection
of a tear trickling down her cheek that she realized it was there. Wiping it
away angrily, she shook her head at herself and adjusted the straps of her bag
on her shoulder.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“You don’t belong here anymore,
Hanna. Stop fucking around and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">go,</i>”
she muttered through clenched teeth at her mirrored image.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
As if her words had bounced back
to her from against the glass, her heart constricted, knowing she was right. If
she was going to make it to the bus station in time to get away, she had to
leave immediately.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-indent: .25in;">
“Hanna…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Sadie’s soft voice pulled Hanna’s
attention away from the mirror. Looking over at her best friend, who stood in
the bathroom doorway, she had to forcefully shove aside her second thoughts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The sight of the gorgeous, tall, curvy
woman made Hanna want to cry. Sadie’s straight, blonde hair hung all the way
down to her waist. The strapless bodycon dress she had on reminded Hanna of all
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">woman</i> her closest friend was.
She’d been gambling with her life just as long as Hanna, but the stakes of the
game had always been higher for Sadie. Until now. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Now</i>, the tables had turned. Staring into her dark brown eyes, Hanna
was certain she couldn’t stay. The risks were now too great, and she wasn’t as recklessly
daring as her ally.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
It was true she never would have
lasted this long in Vegas had it not been for Sadie—but their bond was strong
enough to withstand the weight of the thousands of miles Hanna intended to put
between them. It would have to be. It was the only way. Hanna was sure of it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">She knows why you’re leaving. She’s never once asked you to stay. Not
once. She understands, Hanna—more than anyone else, she understands.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“The bedroom’s all clear,” Sadie
murmured softly, reinforcing the validity of Hanna’s thoughts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Hanna threw herself at her friend.
“God, I’m going to miss you,” she whimpered.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Sadie stood an entire head taller
than Hanna, permitting Hanna to fit snuggly against her bosom. Resting her cheek
on top of Hanna’s head, Sadie held her tight as she sniffled, “I wish you would
at least tell me where you’re going.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Shaking her head, Hanna gently
extracted herself from Sadie’s embrace as she reminded her, “You know I
can’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s safer for both of us if you
don’t know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Yeah, but how will I know you’re
safe?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“I’ll call you. I promise.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Sadie nodded, allowing her tears
to fall unchecked down her face. “You have to go. Now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Hanna pulled in a deep breath
through her nose before dipping her chin in affirmation. She reached out to
squeeze Sadie’s hand, holding it only for an instant before she brushed past
her and into the bedroom. She extended the handle of her roller bag and raced from
the room without a backwards glance. Her window of opportunity was closing, and
she couldn’t risk getting caught. This was the opening she’d been waiting for.
It was her only chance at escape.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
She whispered a silent prayer to
whatever god might hear her as she rode the elevator to the hotel lobby. She
hoped no one from their entourage would see her leaving. The last thing she
needed was for someone to rat her out to Quinten while she was still in the
city. At the very least, she could use the head start. So long as Quinten and Finn
were otherwise occupied, she knew she’d be safe. Or, as safe as she’d ever
been.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Trying not to draw attention to
herself, Hanna didn’t sprint through the lobby, but casually made her exit. As
she hailed a cab from the curb, she tried not to think about Finn. Saying
goodbye to Sadie had been one thing—but leaving Finn? That was enough to make
her physically ill, and she didn’t have time to fall apart. Not yet, anyway. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
With the sun having set an hour
ago, the intense heat from the day had dissipated. Even still, the warm wind
that brushed against Hanna’s skin reminded her of the thin layer of sweat that
seeped through her pores. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this
nervous. A part of her was convinced she’d <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i>
been this anxious in all her life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You’ve also never been without Finn in all your life. What the hell do
you expect?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Shaking her head clear, she waved
her hand once more, catching the attention of a cab driver. He came to a stop
in front of her, and she was quick to slip into the backseat with all of her
belongings.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Greyhound Bus Station, please.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The driver did nothing more than
offer her a nod before he took off. Hanna peered out the passenger side window,
her heart still racing as the lights from the MGM Grand started to fade into
the magnificent backdrop of the obnoxiously lit strip of hotels and casinos.
Somehow or another, Sin City had been her home for the last few years—or, as
close to home as one could manage while making a living the way she did. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did</i>, she reminded herself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Her eyes grew glassy with unshed
tears, and she shifted her focus down into her lap. Rubbing her sweaty palms
against the top of her jean-covered thighs, she willed herself not to cry. In
reality, Vegas had never been home. Somehow, Hanna was cognizant of the fact
that she’d never known the true meaning of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">home</i>.
Not really. To her, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">home</i> was
synonymous with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">safety</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">security</i>; but Hanna had never had the
privilege of either of those things. Rather, all the safety and security she’d
been promised, the life she’d been chasing, it had offered little more than the
semblance of such things. She would not be fooled any longer.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The ride to the bus station was
over before she realized. When the cab driver called back to her, announcing
the cost of her fare, she was quick to expel the appropriate amount of cash
from her wallet. After climbing out of the vehicle, she freed a sigh, pausing
on the curb as she looked up at the Greyhound sign. She’d been planning this
trip for a couple of weeks and knew she had <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">days’</i>
worth of traveling in front of her. From Vegas, she’d be riding to Phoenix,
Arizona. Once there, she’d catch another bus to Chicago, Illinois. After that,
she’d endure the ride to Nashville. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The thought had crossed her mind,
more than once, to stay in the city of her birth—but even simply thinking of
running into her mother made her core temperature go up a notch. Hanna wanted
nothing to do with the woman, and she was certain the feeling was mutual. With
that in mind, her final destination was Tullahoma, Tennessee. It had been more
than a decade since she’d seen or spoken to her grandmother, but Hanna was sure
that was where she lived.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Question is, will she have me?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Her mind made up, Hanna decided it
didn’t matter if her grandmother did or didn’t welcome her. She had nowhere
else to go. No one, not even Finn, would guess where she was headed, and that’s
exactly what she needed. They promised each other they wouldn’t look back. While
she was breaking said promise, she could only hope Finn assumed she never
would. With enough cash to last her a solid month, she steeled herself for the
journey ahead of her and made her way into the bus station.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQeiZwUE7bKkogvB5oToGIpg9S8MOt0e8espCb9Z950Czd5zhw1qxAay9emXAx3eUN0PxZE0p_kiut19iQTbwCJiy6iZsq90UIvQNoiPenRIEyaT81IXOVYD93KWH9nil3c-fhH8tQQKo/s1600/Hanna-Splash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQeiZwUE7bKkogvB5oToGIpg9S8MOt0e8espCb9Z950Czd5zhw1qxAay9emXAx3eUN0PxZE0p_kiut19iQTbwCJiy6iZsq90UIvQNoiPenRIEyaT81IXOVYD93KWH9nil3c-fhH8tQQKo/s1600/Hanna-Splash.jpg" /></a></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-20853061468299146962018-09-15T18:30:00.000-07:002018-09-15T18:30:09.996-07:00Easing Back Toward HomeHi World.<br />
<br />
It's been a minute. Or a few. Okay, a month - make that two, going on three. Gosh, where does the time go?<br />
<br />
I would apologize for not posting in a while, but I think that would be silly. The fact of the matter is, I'm here now - and so are you, and that's so nice! I'm glad you're still around, and I hope you had a great summer full of good reads, fond memories, and all the mundane tasks we so often forget to be grateful for the opportunity to complain about.<br />
<br />
I've spent the last few months getting acclimated to my new town and my new job. I found a church that I like, and I'm starting to make friends (which is the hardest part of being an adult - so - winning!) I've begun doing things like going to the gym on a regular basis, because I'm over 30, my body knows it, and regardless of the fact that I'll probably never wear single-digit sized jeans, exercise is good for me. I even recently started attending hot yoga classes - which is actually pretty fun, in that drenched in sweat sort of way. All the exercise, while totally necessary for my overall health and wellness, has also made me feel guilt free about my new baking habit. More specifically, my new bread baking habit. I'm currently on a sourdough journey. I've successfully crafted my first, sustainable starter - now I'm just trying to nail a batch of truly sour bread.<br />
<br />
And, to top it all off, I think you'll be pleased to know I've been doing the author thing, too.<br />
<br />
It took me eight months to nail it - but <i>Severed</i> is just about ready. It has a date with my designer next week. I'm excited to release Cruiz and Hanna's story; not just so I can say it's done and it's out there - but because I'm anxious to hear what you think of their tale and the way I wove it. I've decided this book is the beginning of a new era in the realm of R.C. novels. I'm proud of it for many reasons. It's the first book I've written since my burn out; it's my first attempt at a completely different style of writing - and I learned so much about my process, my abilities, and how much a story can evolve and solidify itself if you just give <b><i>it</i></b> and <b><i>yourself</i></b> time. I read this novel more than I've read any of my books before whilst in the editing process, and I tweaked and polished it every time. To read it again would be the definition of insanity, honestly - so, it's your turn. I'll be releasing it in a few weeks. I might even just spring it on you. Keep your eyes peeled!<br />
<br />
I think one of the best parts about writing <i>Severed</i> the way I did is that it enabled me to find my sweet spot. I was telling a good friend of mine just yesterday that my writing journey has kind of been like a swinging pendulum. I started on one side of the spectrum, published my first book, saw an audience that I wanted, and then let myself swing in the entirely opposite direction. I know I found my writing voice early mid-swing, but I feel myself really coming into my own as the pendulum eases back toward home. Chasing after what I thought I wanted with my stories was exhausting - trying to keep up with my peers even more so. Now, I'm so far away from that world - far from that person - and I find myself in this beautiful place it seems I just happened upon; like it was destiny I find myself here at this particular time. And <i>here</i> is a place where I don't write for anyone other than the artist inside of me who loves it. It's about honing my craft and striving to write the best thing I've ever written every time. It's about the challenge. It's about the reward of stepping back after it's all said and done and thinking - <i>Yeah. I like that. Let's do it again.</i><br />
<br />
Then, I get this precious bonus of being able to share it with you.<br />
<br />
I've already started working on my next novel - <i>The Lies of Bryn Van Doren</i>. I'm about four chapters in, and my level of excitement for this one is almost off the charts. I can't promise you when it'll be done, but I know I'm going to have a hell of a time writing it. When it's finished - you'll be among the first to know. So, if I disappear again for a while, know it's because of Khalohn Morgan. Oh, and in the mean time, if you don't follow me on <a href="http://www.instagram.com/author_r.c.martin" target="_blank">Instagram</a>, you should - it's a really great place to stay connected with me and see what I'm up to.<br />
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Anyhoo, if you've been waiting for something new from me - the countdown is on. I'll even show you the cover.<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-18007857628617858002018-07-15T12:41:00.000-07:002018-07-15T12:47:00.688-07:00Feelin' MyselfI am in a serious book funk.<br />
<br />
It's been more than half a year since I read a fiction novel written by someone who isn't <i>me.</i><br />
<br />
I used to read a lot. When I first got into publishing, and I was discovering the indie book world, I was clicking books left and right. There were so many possibilities; so many options; so many sales! I, like many readers I know, could devour an entire book in a day. Of course, that was entirely dependent on what kind of book it was. For a while, I was addicted to what I fondly referred to as <i>book candy.</i> They weren't deep, by any means; the plots weren't too intricate, the characters weren't too complicated, and romance took center stage. They were fun. Every once in a while, I might find a more meaty read, but for a couple years, I was gorging on candy.<br />
<br />
My reading pace slowed down significantly when I was writing and editing all the time. However, whenever I managed to find a week or two to stop and take a breath, I had a collection of candy I'd stocked up on that I could indulge in for a bit before it was time for me to get back to work. Then life started changing, and so did I.<br />
<br />
This year began, and I didn't want to read fiction. I've read a handful of non-fiction (at a pretty slow and leisurely pace) and I've got another handful on my list I'm looking forward to reading before the year is out. I've long since abandoned my Goodreads book goal, adopting the same mindset in my reading as I have in my writing - it's not a race, and I'm not competing against anyone. There's no need to keep score. Even still, over the last couple of months, I've felt like I haven't really spent enough time reading, and I wanted to change that. For the month of July, I've given up television. It's actually been pretty great and might spill into August or even into September - because, you see, I set a little goal for myself to spend my extra free time reading. And not just non-fiction, but fiction, too. I figured it was high time I kick this book funk!<br />
<br />
I've got hundreds upon hundreds of books on my kindle. I know my collection might be but a drop in the bucket for some, but it's still a ridiculous amount of novels I haven't read. That said, it didn't make any sense for me to <i>buy</i> any new fiction when there were so many books for me to choose from already in my possession. Trouble is, every time I open one...I get a few sentences in, and I want out.<br />
<br />
See, I'm different. Life and time and my own writing ambitions have made me different. I don't really want candy anymore. I'd settle for chocolate, but that sugary stuff? I'm not feelin' it lately. The hard part is, I know not all the books I've got are candy. I mean, the law of averages tells me so. Accept, I can't tell the difference - and this funk I'm in makes me enter every story with caution and suspicion. Every story except for the ones I already know...<br />
<br />
It's the strangest thing. The other day, I picked up <i>Reckless Surrender</i>. I haven't read it in...I don't even know how long. Now, admittedly, I might pick up a book of mine and read a chapter or two if I'm feeling nostalgic, but I don't typically sit down and read the whole thing. And while I didn't start at the beginning of <i>Reckless Surrender</i>, I found myself reading half the book - and then starting over. What amazed me about the story is that it didn't suck! No, seriously, hear me out.<br />
<br />
My best work is my latest work. That's generally how it works. I try not to think about my first book or my second - or even the first four or five, knowing good and well that when I wrote them, I was still trying to find my voice. Not to mention, it's been so long since I've written them, so long since I've felt attached to those characters, all the magic and the love I once held for them has kind of petered out. In short, I'd forgotten the time and the energy I put into developing Logan and Roman or Trevor and Daphne. But then I started to read them. As I got enraptured by the story, I forgot I was in the middle of a major book funk.<br />
<br />
The day before yesterday, I started reading <i>Guarded</i>. A friend of mine was rereading Leo and Jill in preparation for the third book in the Savior Series, and her excitement over the couple made me want to dive back into their story again, too - and now <i>I can't stop reading!</i> It's the damnedest thing. I'm totally feelin' myself right now - and I'm not even sorry. In fact, I know what I'm going to read after I finish this series. My man Sage and his broken love Millie - and I'm looking forward to it.<br />
<br />
This might sound so strange if you aren't a writer. It might even sound a little arrogant. And if you <i>are</i> a writer, it might sound ghastly - or, perhaps, like a waste of time; but I would argue otherwise. It's so fun. In fact, if you are an author and you haven't gone back to read some of your old stuff in a while, you should try it. I mean, if you can't look back on the stories you're selling and think - <i>wow, I really enjoyed that</i> - then, why are you selling it? That might be a harsh question, but I think it's a valid one. You should be proud of what you put out there. I'm currently on a journey that has me remembering - <i>I'm totally proud</i>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-56659369857582993312018-07-07T18:00:00.000-07:002018-07-15T12:47:07.194-07:00Let's Pretend You AskedIf you had asked me what I wanted after I published <i>The Promises We Keep</i> - if you had asked me to really think about what I wanted my writing career to look like, and if I would have been honest - I would have told you I wanted a miracle.<br />
<br />
100,000 readers, or something like that. It didn't need to happen over night - I wasn't <i>that </i>crazy - but I wanted an audience that grew. I didn't want fame, and it wasn't about fortune, I just wanted people to read my stories. Not just read them, but enjoy them. I wanted them to be hungry for more and anxious to pick up each upcoming novel. I wanted to be known, but in that anonymous way, where no one knew what I looked like or what the <i>R</i> in <i>R.C.</i> stood for.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
That was more than three years ago.</blockquote>
If you had asked me what I wanted after I published <i>Worthy of the Melody</i> - if you had asked me, after being in the game for a year, whether or not I wanted the same thing as I did in the beginning- the truth would not have been hard to come by.<br />
<br />
100 readers, or something like that. They were who I wanted. I didn't care about making a list. I had far more realistic expectations than that. I merely wanted readers to care. Not about me, but about my characters - the ones I'd spent so much time developing. I wanted the readers who had read the first book in the series and claimed they loved it to love it until the end. I wanted <i>them</i>. I <i>needed</i> them to convince me I should keep going.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
They didn't.</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I still had stories to tell.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
That was more than a year ago.</blockquote>
If you had asked me what I wanted after I published <i>Chasing After Me</i>, I wouldn't have hesitated to proclaim I wanted another book even half as successful as that one. And if you had asked me what I wanted after I published <i>Tethered</i>, all I'd be able to do was shrug and tell you I didn't know anymore.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
That was four months ago.</blockquote>
But if you were to ask me <i>right now</i>, if you were to ask me to explain what I might change about my career or what I want it to look like in the future, I'd have the most satisfying answer; an answer I never saw coming.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Let's pretend you asked.</blockquote>
I want my writing career to look <i>exactly</i> like it looks now. I couldn't tell you if I have 100 readers or 10; and you know what? It doesn't matter. Not to me. Not anymore. No one has ever been able to convince me to keep going, to keep publishing, to keep dreaming up stories - and you know why? Because no one has ever been qualified to do so. Nobody but me. And in spite of my fair share of disappointment and dashed hopes, I have not given up. This is my writing career, after all, and I've worked too hard to throw it away. I love it too much to give it all up. And if you're reading this blog, I appreciate <i>you</i> so much for sticking with me.<br />
<br />
I used to live in a world where it was important for me to be on social media every day. I needed to be seen. I needed to be heard. Or, did you not know, online marketing is about much more than paid ads and blog tours? I was everywhere, doing everything - trying to keep up with the industry; trying to figure out the industry; trying to endure the industry. It was about hustling and grinding with no rest for the weary. For a long time, I was grasping at straws, trying what felt like <i>everything </i>to find something that was impossible to find. I had in my head this warped idea of what success looked like, and I was chasing it relentlessly. Then, one day I just stopped.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If the cost of 100,000 readers is giving everything I have and then a little bit more - that's no miracle, and I'm not interested.</blockquote>
That sounds lazy, or possibly defeated - but it's not either of those things. If it's anything, it's <i>freedom.</i><br />
<br />
I now live in this peaceful place where an author rank or an Amazon review means so very little to me. I've come to learn those things are not for me, but for readers; and regardless of whether or not I have either of those things, my book is still there. It's still available. And someone will find it. And when they do, it's a little miracle. So, I guess, in a way - I'm getting precisely what I wanted in the very beginning. Except, even better.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Instead of one miracle, I get more than a few. </blockquote>
I write books. I tell stories that I want to tell. I weave together tales in a way that only I can. And when I'm done, I publish them. Sometimes, I sell a couple - and that is amazing. No. More than amazing. It's a dream come true.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-31889457199614095732018-06-30T21:00:00.000-07:002018-07-15T12:47:13.849-07:00Saturdays are for sunshineI used to wake up on Saturdays as if a shot had been fired, signaling the beginning of a race. For a long time, Saturdays were about getting my chores done as quickly as possible - <i>adulting, </i>if you will - so that I could justify spending the rest of the afternoon in front of my computer writing. It was even more crucial that I move as quickly and efficiently as possible if I'd made plans that evening; but I tried not to do that too often.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Saturdays were for checklists.</blockquote>
<br />
Do you ever feel like that? Like Saturdays are a race until sundown? Some of you are moms, and Saturdays are about sports or play dates or cleaning the house from top to bottom only for it to get messed up again an hour later. Some of you work in the retail industry, and Saturdays are about crowds and long hours on your feet. Then, there are some whose Saturdays are all about sleeping, or laying by the pool until it's time to get gussied up for a night out on the town with friends or that hot guy you adore.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If you're the latter, I admire you.</blockquote>
<br />
That certainly isn't a dig to any hard working person out there, and definitely not a dig against any parents. I totally get it. We aren't all afforded the luxury of a slow Saturday doused in relaxation. Also, don't misunderstand. I don't admire someone who can sleep until noon because I'm someone who wishes I could sleep half the day away. I remember I did that once. I was in high school and I woke up at eleven o'clock and was so disappointed that most of my day was gone. I'm a morning person through and through, and I want as much of my day as I can have - but there's something to be said about waking up on a Saturday and not racing into the day. I admire those who can take their time, as if time itself isn't something they're afraid will run out.<br />
<br />
The entire time I've thought about this blog post, that line in John Legend's "Ordinary People" keeps playing through my head over and over again. You know, the part where he sings, "Take it slow oh, oh, ooohh / This time we'll take it slow." It's been my mantra this weekend, and I'm embracing it. I'm learning that going slow, while not always an option, is something we should all take advantage of any time we can.<br />
<br />
I spent my Saturday doing chores, as usual, but with no intended end time. I took the pressure off, which somehow made each task a little more enjoyable than usual. I wasn't afraid of running out of time, and when it was all said and done and the sun was going down, I just did the next thing I wanted to do. I didn't edit for as long as I thought I might, but it didn't kill me - and that, in and of itself, is a truth I wish more people could simply grab hold of and then take a deep breath.<br />
<br />
You don't have to get everything done all the time. Life isn't about doing <i>things</i> or checking off every box on your list of responsibilities. Saturdays don't always have to be a race; for what good is it to say you've accomplished a ton of tasks if, at the end of it all, you're only exhausted, thinking about the list of things you'll have to do the next day? Sometimes, it's worth it to take it slow.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Sometimes, Saturdays are for sunshine.</blockquote>
<br />
Maybe your Saturday is on a Tuesday. Maybe your Saturday is a Sunday. That's not really the point. The point is, each day is a gift. And I get it. We're all busy all the time. It's an epidemic. Even still, every once in a while, it feels really good to stop and appreciate the sunshine pouring in through your windows. If you haven't done it in a while, pencil it in.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-52169906593869316222018-06-22T22:39:00.001-07:002018-06-22T22:39:40.382-07:00The Making Of: Severed (Savior Series #3)After I'm finished writing a book, I get this feeling. It's nothing dramatic or life changing; it's not even deep or extraordinarily exciting. (Except for that one time, when I wrote the final paragraph of Worthy of the Melody. That was awesome.) This <i>moment </i>I'm referring to doesn't last very long. Even more, I'm fully aware that when I type the last period, I have a ton of work still ahead of me. Nevertheless, I am awarded a moment. It's almost like...an exhale. Like I was holding my breath the entire time I was writing the story, hoping I'd be able to make it to the end. Then, when I do, I can breathe.<br />
<br />
When I wrote the end of Severed, I had two moments. The first was weighed down by uncertainty. My exhale didn't feel like a relief or a prized moment. It felt shallow. I even thought to myself - <i>is that it? Is that really the end? Am I supposed to feel like this?</i> The answer felt like no, so I read the end again, I reworked it, and then it hit me. I was done. Except, my next exhale came with more accomplishment than I can remember feeling in a long time. <br />
<br />
I've published sixteen titles. Not one of them has taken me longer than three months to write. I remember working on Fool For You and thinking - my <i>goodness,</i> is this thing ever going to end? Even then, I justified the length of time it took me to write that particular novel because it was very long; twice the size of some of my shorter novels. Now, please don't take that information as some sort of passive aggressive pat on my own back. That's not what it is. I just need you to understand the context of my history and why the completion of Severed means so much to me.<br />
<br />
It took me five months to write Cruiz and Hanna's story. In fact, given that I just spent this last week adding an entire chapter and a couple thousand more words I wasn't expecting, let's just round up and say it took me six months.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
That's <i>half</i> the year. <i>Half!</i></blockquote>
<br />
When I started this novel, I had a feeling it would take me longer than usual. This is the first piece I've written since I crashed and burned at the end of 2017. Also, I decided to write it in third person, which is a technique I haven't used since before I started publishing. I wanted to take my time. I didn't want to rush the story; but even more, I didn't want to rush myself. I wasn't going to force myself to write every day. I didn't want to force myself to reach a certain word count goal. Neither did I intend on forcing myself to spend a certain amount of time writing every time I sat down to do it. Even still, I never forecasted it would take me this long to write this book.<br />
<br />
In the beginning, for the first two or three months, I panicked at how long it was taking me to get the story out. At around four months, I felt like I was close to the end, and I had accepted the pace at which I was working. Then I started interviewing for this new job, I got the job, I moved across the country for the job, and my slow pace got even slower. When I had a second to stop and get my bearings - when I realized I was in month five, and I wasn't even the same person I was when I started writing the novel, I was a little bit afraid the end of the book would not mesh well with the beginning. I was afraid I was too different; that I hadn't spent enough consistent time with my characters; that the editing process would be horrendous because I'd have to do open heart surgery on a story with a growth defect. Though, in spite of my fears, I kept writing until I found the end.<br />
<br />
And then I read the story.<br />
That, too, comes with its own unique feeling.<br />
<br />
While I've published sixteen titles, I've written closer to thirty - and yet, the feeling I get when I read my book for the first time - start to finish - it never gets old. Never. Every single time, I'm amazed that the words I'm reading came out of my brain. Sometimes I think maybe someone invaded my body and wrote this completely awesome story while I was tucked away under lock and key in the back of my consciousness. It blows my mind. During my first read, I unashamedly pat myself on the back, completely impressed that I told a fully developed, engaging, well thought out novel.<br />
<br />
Now, before you roll your eyes at me, rest assured that only happens during the first read. By the time I get to the third read, I think it's all absolute shit. On the fourth read, I wonder how there are still so many things wrong with it. Then, on the fifth read, I have to accept the fact that it'll never be perfect. Not ever. I just have to let it go. Luckily, you've caught me in a good moment. I've only read Severed once.<br />
<br />
I loved it. It's far from perfect. The fact that I added a chapter speaks volumes. I'm not usually someone who adds a bunch after the initial draft is finished. I don't like to do that. I've done it once before, while I was writing Worthy of the Dissonance, but I like to be meticulously careful with my plot the first round. But this book was different. My journey with these characters has been unusual; and the circumstances under which this novel was written are what make me so proud of it.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to lie to you. I hope my next novel doesn't take me six months to write. But if it does, it'll be because I've made room to be a writer who also has a life. Understanding balance has been a great lesson I've been learning whilst working on this project. I certainly haven't mastered it, but I'm doing a lot better. I've accepted my need for boundaries, and when I need to step away from my computer, I do - whether I've been writing for five minutes or five hours. You might not know or appreciate this truth just yet, but my ever evolving process matters to you as my reader, too. When I take my time, when I take care of myself, it makes my stories more precious.<br />
<br />
Burn out is scary. It's scary because it made me feel numb. At the end of last year, there were so many things I was ready to just let go of. And I did. There are a number of things in the publishing process I used to care <i>so</i> much about; so many things that would stress me out or make me an ugly, judgy person - and I've chosen not to care about those things anymore. Some - if you knew the extent of my list - might think me unwise, but here's the thing, I'm not a quitter. What matters more to me than anything is getting to write. As hard as it was trudging my way through the last six months, I had a story to tell - a story I intend to share with you. If that means letting go of some things, I'm happy to be free of them so I can write.<br />
<br />
So, funny story. This post turned out way differently than I was anticipating. But it's kind of perfect. Cruiz and Hanna's story turned out way differently than I was anticipating, too. In a good way. Their story challenged me. They pushed me as a writer. I would be lying if I told you I didn't ever want to give up on them, 'cause I did. Not because of their short comings, but my own. However, writing character driven fiction is my style - and since my characters come from the most stubborn part of me, I didn't quit. In fact, this story inspired the trajectory of R.C.'s focus for the next couple of years.<br />
<br />
Did that last sentence spark a bit of intrigue? Good. Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
Okay, so, before I sign off, how about a blurb reveal? Cheers!<br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-54896948602873399202018-05-26T19:30:00.000-07:002018-05-26T19:30:14.245-07:00Let's talk about sex (Pt. 3: The Author)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This post is <i>long</i> overdue - so let me skip the excuses and jump right to the point.</div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Let's talk about sex. </blockquote>
<br />
In this final installment to my little series, I want to touch on this topic from the perspective of me as an author. My stance from this headspace is probably the most simple and straight forward - not because I'm somehow detached from the concept of sex and all that it seems to mean in society, in fiction, or even in my personal life; rather, it's almost as if I don't have to be held accountable because it's not about me. It's not about me at all.<br />
<br />
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I write character driven fiction. Basically what that means is, my stories would never go anywhere and I would never finish them if I didn't relinquish my control to the characters themselves. Nine times out of ten, I don't write with an outline. All I need to dive into a project are, like, three things. I need to know my hero and heroine for precisely who they are (or who they want me to think they are) at the moment in time their story begins. I need to know the conflict they are inevitably headed into, and I like to have a general idea of how the story ends. That's it. Everything else comes when I let them take over.<br />
<br />
It sounds crazy (or awesome, depending on how you look at it) but I know my characters better than my closest friends. Once I name them and develop their backstory, I can talk about them as if they are real and sitting in the room with me. You could ask me what they'd do in any given situation, and I could think of an answer for you - not because I've thought of every scenario in which they could be placed and have plotted out a response, but because I know <i>them</i> and how they would respond. That being said, their relationship with sex is unique to them. As an author, it's not my job to define it, explain it, or justify it...in fact, my only job is to <i>describe</i> it.<br />
<br />
I don't write sex because I'm trying to sell a product and sex sells. I don't write sex because I'm trying to evoke some sort of bodily response for my readers or myself. I write sex <i>when </i>or <i>if</i> my characters want to engage in such conversation.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
And to me, as an author, that's exactly what sex is - a conversation. </blockquote>
Leo Vollucci is a man of very few words. If you've read <i>Guarded</i> and <i>Tethered</i> you know this to be true, and you know why. You also might understand that when people ask me which of my novels is the raciest, I always point them to <i>Guarded</i>. Now, I didn't write that much sex because I was trying to be another lemming - I wrote it because that's how Leo expresses himself. Every touch between him and Jill is a conversation; he speaks loudest with his hands. I'm so convinced of this that when I got a review that complained about how conflict resolution seemed non-existent because my hero and heroine just ended up in bed, I wasn't bothered. I just smiled, accepted the fact that that particular reader didn't speak Leo's language - certainly not the way Jill does - and I moved on with my life.<br />
<br />
Sage McCoy, my rocker with a dirty mouth, has the ability to be both gentle and rough. While he has no trouble using his voice, his affection adds another layer - another dimension, if you will - to his character. He understands his heroine; he understands that his touch brings her an assurance his words cannot; and he's more than happy to fight for her with kisses and orgasms.<br />
<br />
When I wrote <i>Fool For You</i>, I got some nasty reviews because Judah St. Michaels, my hero, had sex with other women. (Don't worry, that's not really spoiler...happens in, like, the first chapter.) I think what made readers even more upset with me was that I didn't just <i>mention</i> the sex, I wrote an entire scene, like I would write any other. Apparently, in some rule book, that's a no-no. Except, Judah was a man-whore. Judah was a man who fled from love; even worse, he fled from any romantic attachments at all. Now, I could have <i>told</i> the reader that...or I could let Jude show them. I chose the latter.<br />
<br />
As an author, I could opt to fade to black every time my characters were ready to engage in sex. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I'm like - <i>okay, guys - I've seen enough. You two have fun. I'll catch you on the flip side.</i> But other times, it feels irresponsible of me to skip the intimate moments. It's during those times that my readers can witness my characters in a vulnerable place and see how they respond. So much can be said or expressed in a sex scene that has nothing to do with the actual act, and everything to do with what the characters are feeling, how they're changing and evolving. Sometimes the sex is good. Sometimes the sex is bad. That sort of information is part of the plot.<br />
<br />
At least it is in my world.<br />
<br />
All in all, I suppose what I'm trying to say is, at the end of the day, sex is just part of the game. We are sexual beings. It's how God made us. We can't help it. And sometimes, I'll get judged for what I write, or someone will misinterpret my intentions - but that's part of the game, too. What matters most to me is that I remember what my objective is and constantly strive to be a writer with a strong sense of integrity.<br />
<br />
I tell stories of love. And sometimes, they turn out quite sexy...<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Does my sexiness upset you?<br />Does it come as a surprise<br />That I dance like I’ve got diamonds<br />At the meeting of my thighs?<br />-Maya Angelou</blockquote>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-58906510246149266942018-04-30T19:11:00.000-07:002018-04-30T19:11:44.725-07:00Texas Bound
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Let the record state, my writing schedule is booked for the next five years (pun...unintentionally intended.) While life will undoubtedly happen and shift things a little, the books I have planned to write are the books I intend to write...in the order that they've been plotted on my schedule. While new ideas are allowed and unavoidable, they'll have to wait until 2023 and beyond. I'm putting my foot down. For real this time.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
(Remember when I said I had 18 ideas and I wasn't allowed to come up with more? Well....lets just say it's not going to take me five years to write 18 books.)</div>
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; margin-top: 6px;">
I've got some awesome things planned for you guys. And I'm excited. And it's really not a hardship to declare that I have no wiggle room...so, as it is written, so shall it be done.</div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Facebook reminded me of this post the other day. After I
read it, I thought to myself – </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hello,
stranger. I’ve got a better idea…</i></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was Thanksgiving 2016 when the thought of uprooting my
life and planting it someplace else (for the second time in 3 years) appealed
to me. I’d been in the DMV (DC/Maryland/Virginia) area long enough to know that
the commuter lifestyle wasn’t going to be sustainable for me forever. You see,
I live in a town where almost everyone I know commutes into the city; it was
always considered normal. And when I would opt-out of activities with my
co-workers after work, they would often argue that I should move into the city –
but the city and my paycheck never really saw eye-to-eye. In any case, while
moving is a chore I abhor, I was thinking about it. Texas was the place I
thought I might like to go. It was further west, but not too far west; there
was city, but there was also suburbia (my happy place); and I really liked that
it was a state known for having its own unique personality. So, in the spring
of 2017, I started looking for work. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked for months, applied intentionally, and received
absolutely no responses. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Then the hurricane
happened, and I was wondering if maybe Texas was a door God was intent on
keeping shut. I mean, Texans were already known for being all about Texas – but
Texans after the hurricane were bonded in a way I could not pretend to
understand. I felt like an outsider who wasn’t capable of fitting in, and I
immediately started to think of other places I might like to live. Tennessee.
North Carolina. Arizona. California. I wondered if I could stand the cold of
Connecticut, or if I wanted to go back home to Colorado. It seemed like every
day I changed my mind, and that was frustrating. Not simply because that made
it hard to concentrate my job search, but also because I think of moving sort
of like I think of getting a tattoo. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My rule for tattoos is as follows: I have to want the same
thing in the same place for at least six months, without ever changing your
mind, before I get it. Now, I understand that moving states isn’t as permanent
as a tattoo, but it sure is a whole lot more expensive and troublesome. Even
more, it’s not a decision I was willing to make lightly. So, at the end of 2017
I finally decided, you know what? Why don’t I ask God where I should go? (Yeah,
I know it was a bit backwards; but I really didn’t think about God telling me
where to go. I think I just wanted Him to bless me wherever I chose to go, and
He wouldn’t…for good reason, of course.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When 2018 rolled in, I decided I wanted to try a new church.
I needed to hit the reset button. I had been attending a smaller
church in the area for four years; I had been serving diligently and faithfully
to the point of burn-out, and that had become a trend in more than one area of
my life. The tail end of 2017 brought with it a lot of exhaustion and
frustration in my entrepreneur endeavors, my day-job, and my friendships. I
needed something new, and I felt like God was giving me the okay to leave one
church and find my home someplace else. When I started attending my new church
(at the very beginning of the year) it felt right. It felt like home. It felt
like maybe “relocation” might not be about where I live, but where I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">grow</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wanted to be very intentional with God going into this
year. I needed answers, and I didn’t want them to come from anyone but Him.
When I asked Him whether I was staying or going, I definitely felt Him telling
me to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be still.</i> Just—<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be
still</i></b>. I needed to rest. I needed to be present. I needed to be content
in my singleness; in the job He’d already blessed me with; under the roof He
put over my head. I also needed to seek Him. That’s it. The end. That’s what He
wanted. So, I learned to be obedient. At my new church, I went to the volunteer
orientation, I joined a small group, and it felt good to connect. Things at my
job were changing, and in a good way. I was learning to slow down and not
expect too much from myself. Even more, I was learning to trust and believe in
God for my future and all the desires of my heart.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I wanted to serve at my new church, it didn’t work out
right away. I had auditioned to be on the worship team (the ministry where I
had served in my last two churches), but no one had responded to my audition. Now,
this church is so fantastic about communication (SO fantastic) I thought maybe the
silence was a God thing. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be serving yet. I was
supposed to be resting. I was supposed to be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">being still</i>. So I didn’t follow-up; I didn’t complain; I just
enjoyed worship from the congregation, stayed plugged into my small group, continued
making my personal devotions a priority, and trusted God. Then, the week before
Easter, things started to change. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was at home. It was a snow day, and I got a message on
LinkedIn from an internal recruiter who works for this company in Dallas,
Texas. She told me they were hiring for an Office Manager, she saw my profile,
and she wanted to know if I was interested in talking to her. I was immediately
confused. First of all, that kind of thing doesn’t happen to me. I barely use
LinkedIn. For real. I have, like, 35 connections. Second, I thought I was
supposed to stay still; so a job in Dallas made me pause. Though, in the end, I
decided the opportunity was too great and too appealing not to at least talk to
her, so I agreed. Over the next four weeks, I had four video conference
interviews—each one making me more excited than the next. The company seemed
amazing, the people even more so, and the location someplace I’d wanted to be
for more than a year and a half. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the beginning of the interview process, I was praying for
discernment and wisdom. I didn’t want to pray for the job if that’s not what
God had for me. I wanted to be obedient, no matter what. That was more
important to me than a job. At one point, I asked Him to make it clear to me if
the environment they boasted of was actually as good as it sounded—and in the
interview that followed, I got the sense it was going to be better. About
halfway through the process, I realized God was giving me a choice…and I chose.
I wanted Dallas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I became certain this opportunity had to be mine. Not
because I had done anything. Not because I had found the perfect job and was
completely qualified. Rather, I believe it was mine because God was giving it
to me. HE found the job. HE presented it to me. HE was going before me. The battle
was not mine to fight. All I had to do was put my best foot forward, and I knew
HE would do the rest. If I got the job, it was because of Him. If I didn’t, it
was because He had something better. I believed it. </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I was speaking victory
either way.</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After my last interview (which was on a Monday,) I was told
that a committee met every Friday to discuss candidates who had completed the
interview process; I was also told I’d hear my final update no later than early
the following week. Well, it had been four weeks, and I was feeling confident.
I was claiming the job as mine. I was telling other people to pray for me. When
Friday came, I prayed it would be the day; that they wouldn’t need to do any
further discussion, but they would make up their mind and call me. All day I
waited for a call, and it didn’t come. As the hours passed, I grew more and
more anxious. More than that, my mind started to fill with doubt. It didn’t
feel right. It didn’t seem true, so I had to get myself out of my head. I had
to press into worship and prayer; I had to remember who my God is; I had to
remember that this was in His hands, and I was never in control in the first
place. All weekend, I was listening to various sermons, worshiping in my car
wherever I went, and reminding myself that I believed God could not and would
not disappoint me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Even if the situation turned out to be disappointing, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">God</i> would not disappoint me.</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On Monday, I thought to myself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Okay, God. I waited through the weekend. Today must be the day. </i>At
around mid-day, I got an email. In the email, I was told my resume and all the
interview notes they had taken needed to be sent to the founder of the company
for review. They hoped to have my final update soon. At that point, I just had
to laugh. I knew God was telling me – again – I was not in control. I was not
going to tell Him when I was going to get my answer. This was HIS deal, 100%,
and He wanted me to take my hands off of it. So I surrendered. With laughter, I
surrendered and I waited.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day, I received another email, informing me they
wanted to talk to me the following afternoon. I wasn’t even upset that that
wasn’t an answer but, rather, another invitation to wait. I wasn’t nervous. I
wasn’t anxious. I had surrendered. (I also figured…why would they need to call
me to tell me no?)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The following afternoon, I got the call. And the call was my
confirmation that God had done His thing, and my whole life was about to
change. In two weeks I will be moving to Texas. Instead of living two hours
away from the office, I’m going to live 15 minutes away. Instead of staying in
a bedroom in my parents’ house (as it’s the only thing I can afford at the moment)
I will be living in my own apartment. Instead of working in a position that
won’t allow me to advance any further, I’m moving to work for a company that
has an abundant amount of growth opportunities. This whole situation is above
and beyond what I could ever ask or think, and I cannot wait. Furthermore, I
can’t keep the story to myself. I look forward to sharing this story for years
to come, every time someone asks me how I ended up in Texas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I will always point up. </blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So to the person who wrote that post from a year ago? I say,
<i>ditch the list, baby – let’s live a little.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX_fHABmyx5mycy_ItJU4FdW8BpvlaNodLyF43nGypUoJt56NO60i3kRxtCv3o2F0ZH1vZ1wNMGH1cCYYbacSWWsiYm6lenqFMCTdvJiKG8XXRCBpueFONMWqHQwovujAw-6tB5pzZiV4/s1600/Texas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1179" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX_fHABmyx5mycy_ItJU4FdW8BpvlaNodLyF43nGypUoJt56NO60i3kRxtCv3o2F0ZH1vZ1wNMGH1cCYYbacSWWsiYm6lenqFMCTdvJiKG8XXRCBpueFONMWqHQwovujAw-6tB5pzZiV4/s1600/Texas.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-73509613010217326232018-04-24T08:30:00.000-07:002018-04-24T08:31:01.430-07:00A Man Named Dane...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmMtT7nxrOtxPDy3ag7O3KX7eVT0kxWLELtVJtVZL_Fomz5ewCg87ep3GMV4HCRs3D4x_p0cWlNachF5waYfkmNhcdIXz6Ap4Mk6y0pOgThYBS51xlItxl8mlNce1zrKjXhY0hG9_2po/s1600/The-Bridgewater-Case-Fb-Banner+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="851" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmMtT7nxrOtxPDy3ag7O3KX7eVT0kxWLELtVJtVZL_Fomz5ewCg87ep3GMV4HCRs3D4x_p0cWlNachF5waYfkmNhcdIXz6Ap4Mk6y0pOgThYBS51xlItxl8mlNce1zrKjXhY0hG9_2po/s1600/The-Bridgewater-Case-Fb-Banner+copy.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
My dearest readers & friends - I'm so excited to officially announce my upcoming release, <i>The Bridgewater Case</i>! This is a story I've been holding onto for almost a year, waiting for the right time to share it with you. Today, I get to reveal the cover! On May 22nd, it'll finally be <i>live</i>, and I'm anxious for you to get the chance to meet Dane and Sally.<br />
<br />
In fact, I'm so anxious that I've decided to do a couple of special things <i>just</i> for you. First, you can download the first three chapters of this novel <i>right now!</i> Second, I'm offering a pre-order sale for this new book until it goes live. To download your sample chapters and to learn more about my pre-order sale, <a href="http://www.rcmartinbooks.com/bridgewater-preorder" target="_blank">click here!</a><br />
<br />
Of course, I must give a special shout-out to Cassy at <a href="http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com/" target="_blank">Pink Ink Designs</a> for creating this beautiful cover. I love it, don't you? Check out the full jacket below - and don't forget to go snag your free sneak peek of <i>The Bridgewater Case.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Title:</b> <i>The Bridgewater Case</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Genre:</b> Romantic Suspense</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Release Day: </b>May 22, 2018</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Synopsis:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Working as a secretary isn’t the dream, but it’s all I have going for me. A new job in a new city was my chance at a fresh start--and I needed this opportunity to get my foot in the door. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Croft, Sloan, Parker, and Croft is an elite law firm with a reputation that can’t be disputed. Though, I didn’t expect I’d be working for a man as tempting as Dane Croft. I also never thought a single file crossing my desk could change my life in ways I never imagined.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was just a secretary--until that first threat. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was just his secretary--until the Bridgewater Case.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Falling for my boss was never the plan…</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But sometimes, the best things in life aren’t penciled in.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://rcmartinbooks.com/bridgewater-preorder" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUSf86lDD0OG3VHRlC6VCS9n3RG1SHNi73cSUA5fGwQg-lGugEjSUtcRDVBrqqwbg8g5IQWaesuPkwUdJaZYjqg463uZqKxDOxH87OaOG-IBctE1F8np_twKU5DNMF6e24NMobnPrTpM/s1600/The-Bridgewater-Case-FOR-WEB+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-10717784638683267372018-04-21T19:30:00.000-07:002018-04-23T11:56:53.702-07:00Let's talk about sex (Pt. 2: The Virgin)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Like it or not, there's this list of preconceived ideas that is attached to the genre that is fiction romance. It's not like action/adventure, or mystery/suspense, or sci-fi, or fantasy - the difference being that this aforementioned <i>list </i>comes with <i>judgement. </i>Sure, every genre has its own list. When I think of sci-fi or fantasy lovers, I think nerds, online forums, comic books, space travel, weird-made-up-languages, words-I-can't-pronounce, Comic Con, and <i>dad. </i>(That last one should let you know that I've got love for all you sci-fi nerds out there. There's no judgement here!)<br />
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The crazy thing is, when it comes to romance, the average person hears the word and thinks one of two things. <i>Hallmark</i> or <i>smut</i>. But, let's be honest, most people are thinking smut. And maybe you're special, or awesome, or completely indifferent and you're not who I'm talking about - but I rarely encounter those people. I encounter people who hear me say I write romance and they think one of two things. <i>I love romance, that's awesome!</i> or <i>Oh.</i> And that <i>oh</i> is something I feel. That <i>oh</i> is way heavier than you'd think a two letter word would be. <i>Oh</i> makes me feel like I've ripped open my cardigan to reveal a big, scarlet <i>R</i> sewn onto my t-shirt.<br />
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Perhaps this isn't something you experience. Maybe you don't feel like you need to hide the cover of your paperback in public; maybe you aren't relieved that your story is embedded in an electronic device that enables you to read on a crowded train without anyone knowing the hero of the story is rolling on a condom as you speed toward your destination; maybe you don't get any flack whatsoever for having a plethora of book boyfriends; maybe you don't ever feel like you wish people would just accept the fact that you're an author without asking too many questions about what genre you write, because if you answer <i>romance </i>it somehow diminishes your credibility; maybe you've never experienced the <i>oh... </i>Or maybe you just don't give a damn. (Good for you, by the way.) Perhaps this is just an insecurity that I have and I'm the weird one. But this is my truth:<br />
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There is no shame in my game - and yet, I always feel like I have to <i>justify</i> my work and make excuses for my choice of genre to both romance readers and non-romance readers alike. <i> </i><br />
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So, let's talk about why. The sex. </blockquote>
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I don't remember who said it (not that I would call him out if I did,) and I don't remember if I actually saw his post, or if someone told me about it - but that's neither here nor there. I'm sure he's not alone in his thinking. Anyway, what he said was something to the effect of: the women who read/write romance novels are just a bunch of overweight or unattractive women who aren't "getting any."<br />
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Yeah. That's stuck in my brain. Possibly forever. </blockquote>
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Honestly, I'm not offended by his opinion. He's entitled to it. He's wrong, but he's free to think what he wants. Furthermore, I know there are readers out there (attractive, healthy women!) who pick up romance <i>because </i>they want the smut. They like the way it makes them feel. They like the fantasy aspect of it. And, truth be told, long before I started reading romance that had any sex in it, I had heard it said that it was porn for women - even the clean stuff - because it was all fantasy. But it's frustrating that by being associated with <i>romance </i>that somehow creates a label for you as a <i>person.</i><br />
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I'd be lying if I told you it wasn't hard to write in a genre that carries around that kind of reputation.</blockquote>
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I often wonder - when someone reads my stuff, or when they're told that I write sex in my novels - does that suddenly somehow define me not as a writer, but as a woman? How much sex do I have to write before someone assumes I'm not "getting any?" How much sex do I have to write before someone assumes perhaps I'm "getting" too much? When an author is known for their murder mysteries, people assume their google search history is full of questionable content that could have the FBI knocking on their door; but what does one assume <i>my</i> google search history looks like?<br />
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My content is never going to be something that I can defend. You might say - what are you worried about? In today's society, you don't have to defend a novel with sex in it. But, I would argue, in today's society....are you sure about that? Nevertheless, as an artist, once my work is out there, it's out there. It's <i>yours,</i> which means it's not mine to defend. However, it still has my name on it - which means <i>my name</i> is what I must guard and protect. If I have one book with a few hot scenes, that's one thing. If I have <i>ten</i> books with 50 reviews that talk about my ability to write a sex scene...then what?<br />
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Now, let's assume you think I'm being dramatic, or I'm thinking too much, or merely exposing my insecurities to my readers. Let's argue that someone who writes thrillers riddled with death isn't judged or labeled for that; her content does not mean she struggles with murderous thoughts or psychopathic tendencies. I would tell you the two scenarios are not comparable. Now, if you don't believe in God, or if you don't believe you have a soul, then everything I say from here on won't carry any validity for you - but hear me out.<br />
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Sex is a physical act with soul-touching consequences. It's an intimate exchange unlike any other you could possibly experience. We are all sexual beings, regardless of what makes us different, and it affects how we act, how we think, how we connect. If I write a murder scene, it won't affect you the way a sex scene will. (At least, I really hope it doesn't.) And you can spout some scientific facts at me if you want, but I think sex is more than science. I'm a woman, which means I'm uber emotional; and I'm a Christian, which means I believe that sex is a gift that God gave - so, to me, it's an act that is so intertwined with your mind, emotions, spirit, and soul - it's so rich and deep and marvelous that if you tickle those senses, it's never as meaningless as you might think.<br />
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My point is, on some level, the sex I write has an affect on my readers that might point back to me. And while I just described sex as this <i>beautiful, </i>life-altering<i> </i>experience, society has redefined it, which sometimes makes my work feel like an arrow pointing at that big, scarlet <i>R </i>that I imagine is on my t-shirt.<br />
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Like I said, I know I can't defend my writing. Not really. And on many levels, I don't want to. But just this one time, I want to tell anyone who's listening - I don't write sex to evoke any sort of bodily response for you or for me. I'd like to think it's not that shallow. Also, my search history probably isn't as interesting as you might think. You see, for me, I have to keep boundaries around what I allow myself to <i>see</i>. Visual inspiration is not my best bet, if you'll allow me to speak plainly. The truth is, I'm <i>not</i> getting any. I also don't plan on getting any until I find someone who wants to put a ring on it; and in order to keep myself <i>sane,</i> I can't tempt myself.<br />
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Now, if you've met Sage, or Jude - or <i>Leo - </i>you might not believe me when I tell you I do not write from experience. But I'll tell you my secret...I like my beta readers married. I trust them to tell me if I've written something that's not possible or remotely believable. It works for me. Furthermore, my characters are pretty good at telling me what they want - but more on that next week.<br />
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The all knowing "they" say you should write from experience because it'll come out better. The funny thing is, I so rarely write from experience. Not only have I never had sex, but I've never been in love. Admitting that might really be harming my street cred. It also might give validity to anyone who thinks I write romance because I long for what I depict in my stories; except, that's not how it works. The truth is, I'm in love with the idea of love. I enjoy the complicated, sacrificial, <i>mess</i> that is love. I enjoy writing complex characters who long for that connection with someone else - even if they're too afraid to admit it. And therein lies the reality behind why sex is important in my novels, because it is important for me to write characters my readers can relate to.<br />
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This might come as a shock to you, but when it comes to sex, I have a hard time relating to most people these days. I can't write myself as a character over and over and expect people to slip into her shoes and feel at home. I don't mean that judgmentally, either. I really don't. I understand why people don't choose to wait. It is my choice for many reasons, but it's not a choice I can make for someone else. Including my characters.<br />
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So - yes, I pen romance. Yes, it's got a bit of a reputation. Yes, my stories "fit in" with those my peers write. But no - what I write is not a reflection of how I choose to live my own life. I am merely the voice telling someone else's story.<br />
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And while I'm being transparent, sometimes I am no better than the people looking at us romance readers and writers, judging us by the content we enjoy. There have been times where I cringe when I see something or read something that is the very definition of tasteless - not merely because it exists or because I have anything against the person who wrote it - but because I know someone will look at my book and think it's something it isn't, simply because it shares the same label of romance.<br />
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But you know what? I've decided something. It's worth it. You are worth it. I've said it once, I'll say it a million times, there's room out there for all of us, regardless of our content preferences. If you like it clean or if you like it raunchy, there's something out there for you. And I will sport my scarlet <i>R</i> proudly if it means someone has found what they're looking for when they pick up one of my books.<br />
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When I release them into the world, they are no longer mine to hold onto or define. Neither are they a reflection of me. If I do it right - you shouldn't think of me at all.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-39521672974178047512018-04-13T13:30:00.000-07:002018-04-13T13:30:37.798-07:00Let's talk about sex (Pt. 1: The Lemming)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Do you remember that scene in the movie <i>Never Been Kissed </i>when they’re at the mall? There are two sets of people on the escalators—one traveling down, the other traveling up—and the girl with the long, brown hair (or was it blonde?) looks at Drew Barrymore’s character and says, “Like, oh my god—there goes another lemming.”</div>
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Do you remember that? </div>
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I do. I so totally do. </div>
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I can’t remember the last time I saw the movie, and yet that scene has stayed with me for all these years. Perhaps it stuck for the sole purpose of being found in this season of my life; to remind me I don’t have to be another lemming. In fact, I should strive to be the exact opposite. Because, you see, it’s not just that one line, but the overall arcing concept of popularity and fitting-in versus being yourself, which was depicted in the movie, that left an impact. </div>
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Sure, the plot was set in a high school and I, along with many of you, haven't seen the halls of our high schools in over a decade (maybe two or three.) Nevertheless, if you’ve lived long enough, you know a lot of the challenges, the attitudes, or the contests of our adolescent years have a way of repeating themselves and manifesting in new shapes and sizes—disguised when they show up in various parts of our lives, even as we grow and mature. Let us not forget, Drew's character wasn't a high school student in the story, and yet she succumbed to the same tendencies a lot of us have to battle as we seek to climb one ladder or another.</div>
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Now, let's talk about sex.</blockquote>
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I think, for me, writing sex was kind of inevitable. Not simply because I write romance, but because of <b><i>how</i></b> I write romance and what I strive for while developing my characters. (I'll give you more on that in a couple of weeks.) When I started writing, sex didn't have a place in my stories. When that changed, so did I. Only, the more open I was about the sex in my novels, the more disingenuous I felt. I don't think it was my writing about intimacy that distorted my brand, my image, my persona, or even my integrity—I think it was trying to use it as a selling tool that caused all the damage. Except, I was only doing what everyone else was doing. I didn't think I was sabotaging my own success. In fact, I was doing what I thought the successful, “cool” kids were doing. I was following the crowd. </div>
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Like, oh my god—there goes another lemming.</blockquote>
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Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, (or maybe it doesn’t even really matter,) I started publishing my novels after <i>Fifty Shades</i> blew up and gave just about every woman who’d given up on reading a newfound desire to pick up a book and dive in. Not only did that series cause a huge spike in readership of the romance genre, but I think it also gave thousands of writers out there the courage and the incentive to start publishing their own stories. I’ll admit, I haven’t researched that. I'll also admit, I’m not going to - but ask around, and I bet you'll see I'm not that far off.</div>
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I know there are authors out there who write in the romance genre and have never read the infamous Christian Grey (*raises hand*); and there are authors who weren’t inspired to publish their steamy books because of Christian Grey (*raises hand*); but regardless of whether or not we intended on joining the game on the heels of a phenomenon, it cannot be denied that E.L. James opened a door no one else did—and some of us are reaping the benefits.</div>
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I remember when those books started gaining serious momentum. It seemed like everyone I knew was talking about them. (Like when I was a kid and <i>everyone </i>was talking about <i>Harry Potter</i>; or when I was in college and <i>everyone</i> was talking about <i>Twilight</i>.) I was stubborn and refused to read them—even to this day—but my friends and some of my family were reading them; and what they told me translated to one message. </div>
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<i>Sex sells.</i> </blockquote>
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I'm going to keep it real with you. The crowds I run with don't read romance on the regular. But they read these books. And the women who talked to me about the series each had their own varying opinions about the quality of writing in the stories—but they couldn’t put them down, regardless. Because <i>sex sells</i>. So, since before I published my first book, I’ve had it in my head that—<i>sex sells</i>. Then I published my debut. </div>
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The Promises We Keep is my first and only published PG romance. Everyone kept talking about how clean it was; how they’d let their daughters read it; how it was refreshing, and so very young adult. But I wasn't (and still am not) a young adult author. Furthermore, it wasn’t written about young adults. Even more, I knew who I wanted my audience to be (or, you know, generally speaking) and it wasn’t girls in high school. So I had to up my game a little. And I did. </div>
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The problem wasn’t that I was adjusting for my audience with my content. That, I believe, was smart. It also did me some good, challenging me to go deeper in developing my writing. (Again, we’ll touch on that in part three.) The problem was how I began to exploit the sex in my work for gain. Suddenly, the bits and pieces I was pulling out of my novels to try and sell them had little to do with the story at all. </div>
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I haven't really been hanging out in the romance community a lot lately, but something tells me things haven't changed much in my absence; which means what I'm about to say still holds some truth. The truth is, everywhere I looked, there were covers with shirtless men. Teasers with half naked women. Quotes about something dirty, hot, or sexy. And everywhere I looked, readers were gobbling it up. I wanted readers to gobble my stuff up, too, so I did what I thought I should do—regardless of how unnatural it felt. I studied and I mimicked. </div>
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Like, oh my god—there goes another lemming.</blockquote>
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I must say, one thing I refused to compromise on were my covers. I’ve got 20—some have yet to be revealed, but they exist and are worth counting—and only two of them have naked man chests on the front. My most erotic novel has one of my favorite, softest, prettiest covers. In fact, I'd say it's not really sexy on purpose at all. Generally, I'm not into abs on my books. I can’t do it. I was going to, (I was <i>encouraged </i>to,) but in the end, that was a line I couldn’t cross. The two stories that do have man pecs on display, they made sense and felt right to me. In that regard, I don’t believe I ever sacrificed my artisitic integrity for a sale. But my teasers? My teasers are a different story.</div>
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I’m not going to stand on some soap box and tell you that sexy teasers are bad. </div>
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<b>They aren’t.</b> </div>
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<i>For some people, they work.</i> </div>
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<b><i>For me, they do not.</i></b> </div>
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It's not because they don’t sell books; it's possible they may have helped me in the past. Mostly it's because, in my experience, they don't represent my books very well. They don't represent me as an artist very well, either. Yes, I write contemporary romance. Yes, there is often times sex in my novels. No, I don’t write sex for sex sake. I'm not an erotic author. I don't just throw it in because I think it'll sell better. Neither is it my intent to get you all hot and bothered. Just being honest here. While some might disagree and tell you I write smut, I really don’t. And I get to decide that, right? I am the creator. </div>
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The trouble is, if all you see are my teasers, you might not know that I don’t write smut. Yet, oddly enough, that’s what I was trying to sell. Because <i>sex sells! </i>So, I figured, if I could sell the sex, then maybe I could surprise the reader with all the other stuff I’ve got going on on the inside. Except—what kind of logic is that?</div>
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Like, oh my god—there goes another lemming. </blockquote>
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Turns out, I like my romance sweet with a side of sexy, or sexy with a side of sweet—but at the end of the day, I’m all about the love. Love is what I want to sell, not sex. Not to mention, I don’t want to trick people into picking up my book. Talk about integrity. And you remember my definition of success, right? <i>Doing what I love with integrity.</i></div>
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Over the past few months, I've had the chance to step back and look around, look at myself, respect my work, and heed the advice of one particular brilliant, loving, business-minded friend. It might sound <i>so </i>elementary from where you're sitting, but it was a beautiful epiphany to me when I realized I could be me—I could write sweet <i>and </i>sexy; I could write about love—<i>love so deep</i>—and simultaneously grow my audience authentically. It's refreshing. It's liberating. It's <i>fun</i> to embrace my voice and what I can bring to a story that no one else can. Some might think it risky; a few months ago, I might have thought it was risky—to go against everything my eyes see. <i>But I don't have perfect vision. </i>Not only that, it's time I gave my readers—the ones who are and the ones who will be—so much more credit. You deserve it.</div>
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Honestly, there's room out there for all of us writers. It might not always feel like it, but it's true. You don't have to fight dirty to gain the attention of your audience. You've just got to fight smart. But more than anything, you've got to be you. That's what I'm going to do.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-23582043259801121912018-03-30T07:15:00.000-07:002018-03-30T07:16:53.203-07:00the Dream vs the Idol<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Man, you say workaholic; I say disciplined" - Craig Groeschel, #struggles</blockquote>
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I used to call myself a workaholic and then laugh about it. Not the kind of laugh that was filled with joy or amusement; rather, it was more like this forced, stunted sound that begged you to laugh with me. If we could laugh about it together, then the consequences of my relentless pace could be swept under the rug and ignored until I had another book to show for it. Then, of course, neither one of us would be laughing. You'd be reading, I'd be writing or editing another novel, and the cycle would start all over again.<br />
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If you've been following my blog for any length of time, you've probably read <a href="http://blog.rcmartinbooks.com/2018/03/im-sorry-if-i-judged-you.html">this post</a> and <a href="http://blog.rcmartinbooks.com/2018/03/all-readers-in-all-world.html">this post,</a> and maybe even <a href="http://blog.rcmartinbooks.com/2018/03/hi-world-its-me.html">this post</a>. I could talk about how hard I worked to reach some undefined level of success, and what it cost me, at length - but I don't intend to discuss it ad nauseam. However, a couple of weeks ago, while reading <a href="http://blog.rcmartinbooks.com/2018/03/struggles-and-monster-within.html">#struggles</a>, I realized that what I had been doing was more than chasing the <i>high</i> that came with <i>finishing a thing.</i><br />
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More serious.<br />
More harmful.<br />
And at the risk of sounding dramatic...<br />
More dangerous.<br />
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Everything revolved around my writing career aspirations. Everything. My finances. My time. My relationships. In fact, the more I think about it, the scarier it seems. Now, to an outside observer, it might not seem like that big of a deal. I was chasing a dream, after all; and what dreamer doesn't invest their cash (and/or their credit), to acquire the resources they need in order to make whatever is in their imagination come to life? What dreamer doesn't invest the majority of their time working on their skill, their craft, developing their business, or engineering some product? What dreamer doesn't know the power of networking, and the importance of investing in the relationships that can help attain the level of success they're striving for? Dreamers make sacrifices. Dreamers take risks. Dreamers sleep less and work more. Dreamers don't quit - they fight, they cry, they bleed - they <i>dream.</i><br />
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I was doing it right. I was playing the game. I was chasing the dream.<br />
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Or...was I?<br />
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I believe that each and every one of us was born <i>on purpose </i>and <i>for a purpose</i>. Maybe your life is meant to make a gigantic impact on the world. Or maybe you're impact is smaller; perhaps your role as <i>mom</i> is the first ripple that sets into motion something amazing you might not ever see. The point is, you matter - and the dream inside of your heart, that matters, too. Moreover, your dream might be how you become a world changer - or the mom who births that world changer - but a dream is never <i>everything</i>.<br />
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No matter how you spin it, our purpose isn't to <i>worship </i>the dreams that define us. We are not to make <i>idols</i> of our ambitions. Because, in the end, if all your dreams come true, and you've attained that level of success you were striving for - there will always be something <i>more</i> to go after. I feel qualified to say that because, as a dream chaser, I know there's no <i>end</i>. There's always going to be another book I want to write. There's always going to be another reader I hope to connect with through my art. There's always going to be <i>more </i>I wish to achieve.<br />
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Now, don't misunderstand. I don't think there's anything wrong with setting goals and running after them. There's nothing wrong with being ambitious or driven or even successful. But if you're not careful, much like I wasn't careful, your whole life will revolve around the dream; and instead of it making you feel fulfilled, it'll leave you drained. I believe that dreams are <i>gifts</i>, not sustenance. We are not machines fueled only by one purpose or one goal. We are multifaceted beings. We require love and rest and all the experiences life has to offer.<br />
<br />
For a year - maybe even two, if I'm being honest - I ate, slept, and <i>breathed</i> words. When I wasn't writing, I was editing; and when I wasn't editing, I was writing. I had a very meticulous schedule to keep, and I had clients who relied on my ability to keep said schedule. I wasn't dating. I hardly hung out with my friends - my "<i>IRL" friends</i> - and my family saw me sparingly. I also have this habit of consuming an entire meal in ten minutes or less because every time I sat down to eat, it was cutting into my writing time. (I'm getting better at this, by the way. Especially when I eat with other people.) When I say everything revolved around my writing, I mean everything.<br />
<br />
It became more than a dream. It became an idol. And I bowed down before it every day.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-left: -20px;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
- Idol -<br />
noun: an image or representation of a god used as an object of worship.</blockquote>
</blockquote>
Now - I get it. You might read that definition and think, what? Wanting to be a notable author and working hard to achieve that goal doesn't equate to an idol - but for me, it did. How else would you explain putting so much stock in something, sacrificing time and money and relationships, all with the hope that it would bring you this seemingly unattainable amount of satisfaction and value? I believe there is only one God who is able to define your worth and quench your unquenchable thirst - and yet, I was so focused on my writing and what I could achieve, I lost sight of the truth that, no matter how hard we try, we're never in complete control. And no matter how much you invest in a dream, a goal, a career - it won't bring you the ultimate satisfaction. It's not big enough. Idols never are.<br />
<br />
It is both humbling and freeing to admit that. Even more, I can write about it now because it's no longer true. <i>Thank God</i>. I got yanked back, and I was forced to look at my situation from the outside. What I saw made me not want to return. I was chasing an undefined level of success and essentially sacrificing my soul in the process. (Not dramatic. True.) Now, it's not like that. In fact, it's amazing how my newly identified definition of success has helped me to set boundaries and go after my dreams in a much healthier, more fulfilling way.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
To me, success is doing what I love with integrity. </blockquote>
<br />
That's it. It's that simple. And yet, I also find it quite powerful. I'm excited to embrace it and to see where it takes me. I'm not done chasing the dream - I'm just done worshipping the idol.<br />
<br />
So stay tuned. This is just the beginning.<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-9519296351242485222018-03-22T17:30:00.000-07:002018-03-22T17:30:29.137-07:00I'm sorry if I judged you... As I sit down to write this post, I am approximately 94K words into <i>Severed (Savior Series #3).</i> At face value, that might sound great. To some, that's a lot of words. To others, maybe not so much. You might think I must be nearing the end, while perhaps another may congratulate me for the accomplishment of stringing together that many words into coherent sentences - because he or she is certain they could never do such a thing.<br />
<br />
At face value, 94K words <i>is</i> an accomplishment. It may even be something I should be proud of - but if you knew me and my story, you'd understand why I'm still trying to decide how I should feel about my progress.<br />
<br />
When I wandered into the world of Facebook and the indie author community, it was the first time I understood how I measured up against other authors. Even more, what I saw and experienced set the bar for how fast I needed to go in order to keep up with my peers - or at least the ones who seemed to be making it. Add on top of that things like <i>writing sprints</i> (how many words can you write in an hour?) or the <i>100K Challenge</i> (can you write 100K words in a month?) and the competitor inside of me was constantly trying to rise to the occasion. (Though, admittedly, I was never that great at sprinting.)<br />
<br />
It seemed like everyone around me was trying to figure out the best strategy. Write three books before you publish your first one, then release them in X amount of time. Or write in a series, because standalone novels don't do well. Or read this book or that book on how to become a better writer. Or publish this many books in this amount of time in order to drive sales. And - my favorite - your first draft shouldn't take you any longer than three months to write, no matter how long it is; if it does, your story will start to feel off. Stephen King said that last one. I read it somewhere sometime, and I thought it was brilliant. It justified my need for speed. Even worse, it contributed to the judgey thoughts of my shadow-self. (You know, the not so great version of yourself that follows you around everywhere.)<br />
<br />
Twice I've written an entire novel in thirty days. My longest novel I wrote in about three months. I thought my speed was a defining characteristic when it came to me as a writer. It wasn't necessarily that I thought I was more talented than anyone because I was fast; rather, I convinced myself that it meant I was more determined, more focused, more driven, more disciplined. I thought it meant I wanted it more, I was more resilient, and my dedication would propel me into the arena of success.<br />
<br />
I've never been that author who could write a thank you post to my readers for buying so many copies of my books that I got an author rank on Amazon or that nifty orange, best-seller banner. I've never made a list, and some big blog has never wanted to talk about one of my stories.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<i>Don't get me wrong, I cannot even adequately wrap my head around how humbling it is that anyone would want to buy my novels. For all my readers out there, you're amazing, and I'm so happy to share my stories with you. I write because I love it - but I keep sharing what I write because you enjoy it, and that is awesome. </i></h3>
<br />
However, I'm not perfect...and there was a season of my life where my ambition fueled my fire and distorted my definition of success. (Sometimes I wonder if I even knew what my definition of success was. I do now - but I'll tell you later.)<br />
<br />
Because I didn't think I was successful - no matter how many people tried to convince me that I was - I needed something to make me feel like I wasn't failing in every way. So, I sank my claws into what I could consider victory - and that was my ability to write good, decent length novels in record time. Unfortunately, that turned me into this person who didn't <i>try </i>to understand the other authors who were vocal about their processes. I didn't have compassion for people who struggled with finding time to write, or authors who took six months to a year to write a single book and were frustrated with their inability to keep up in the rat race. I didn't listen to writers who wished they could do more, but then filled their feed with photos of everything they were doing instead of writing. I became very narrow minded when it came to establishing what it took to get a book out in what I considered "good timing." Furthermore, I was really harsh when it came to what it meant for your work to even be worthy of the category of <i>novel.</i> And if you weren't willing to make sacrifices, I had no advice for you.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, life and God and <i>grace</i> happened, and I'm not that person anymore. I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately, which has led to a good deal of soul <i>scrubbing,</i> and I'm accepting my flaws and acknowledging my need for boundaries. As I've mentioned before, comparison is my greatest vice - and it's also a heavy burden to bear, like constantly carrying around a measuring stick that weighs a thousand pounds. The truth is, I won't ever measure up because it's not a competition. At least, it shouldn't be. It took leaving the author community I thought I needed, but I'm learning that by taking my craft and trying to make it an enticing product meant to stand out against everyone else's - for <i>me</i> - it ruins it. It ruins <i>me</i>.<br />
<br />
I'm storyteller. That's my gift. That's what I love. The stress of everything else? Marketing, and trying to stay relevant, and trying to keep up with the most "successful" writers out there... It's not worth it. So I'm learning to do things differently. I'm learning to hold onto the parts of this that I enjoy, let go of the things that make me ugly, and trust God to handle the rest. And - speaking of rest - I'm learning to do that, too.<br />
<br />
As I sit down to write this post, I am approximately 94K words into <i>Severed (Savior Series #3).</i> It's taken me two and a half months to get that far. Moreover, I don't estimate that I'll be finished for at least another two or three weeks. Maybe four or five. I don't know. For me, that's incredibly slow. Some days, I don't know what to think of this pace. I fear I'm being lazy or I'm taking too long. I'm afraid <i>every</i> book is going to take me this long to write, and I'm not sure if I'm all right with that. Some days, I don't write at all. Some days, I write no more than a paragraph. Some days, that's okay. Some days, I'm afraid it's not. I beat myself up a lot, but I try to remember to show myself grace, too. In short, I'm reprograming my brain, I'm learning a new routine, I'm figuring out what <i>healthy</i> is - and it's hard. But you know what? I haven't given up. And this story, it has an ending - and I'm going to get there.<br />
<br />
On the days when I'm not frustrated with myself, I'm finding value in my slow pace. I'm certain that if I wrote this book any faster, it wouldn't be the same story. I've always written character driven fiction, and this story is no different - but I'm not rushing Cruiz and Hanna; and in taking my time, it's as if I'm giving myself the opportunity to know them better. They've changed this plot in ways I didn't anticipate. I'm hoping, in the end, it makes for some of my best work. We'll see. In any case, this post really isn't about them, it's about <i>you</i>...at least, the <i>yous</i> that can relate.<br />
<br />
To every author out there who writes slowly, who takes the time to make dinner for their friends, who goes to bed early to snuggle with their spouse, who invests in another hobby - like making soap - to every author whose process is different than mine, whose books are shorter than mine, and whose life-story I <i>do not know - </i>I'm sorry if I judged you. It wasn't my place, it was far from nice, and I won't do it anymore. You deserve better from me. I'm your peer, not your foe, and I endeavor to act as such.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-47608958860494156172018-03-17T18:14:00.000-07:002018-03-17T19:23:57.237-07:00#struggles (and the monster within)When I set out to read this book, I hoped I’d come away from it feeling enlightened, challenged, and refreshed. I have a love/hate relationship with technology, especially in the context of social media, and I was excited to hear what Craig Groeschel had to say on the topic. What I did not expect was to come away feeling validated, convicted, and encouraged to swim against the current. (Also, I basically never want to take a selfie ever again!)<br />
<br />
Admittedly, this book was written by a Christian pastor, and this post will be written from the honest perspective of a Christian woman—but even if you don’t believe in God, don’t tune me out yet. At the end of the day, we’re all human, we all have #struggles, and one of them is the reality that we live in a selfie-centered world.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"What veils are you wearing? I mean it. What image are you trying to project in your life that doesn’t reflect the real you?"</i></blockquote>
<br />
A year ago, I would have told you I didn't wear a veil on social media. I would have told you what you saw was who I am, and I wasn't pretending to be someone I'm not. A year ago, I would have been lying to you; but even worse, I would have been lying to myself. Now, I can honestly admit that I had a collection of veils - each made up of eye-catching colors, beautiful patterns, and silky material that enabled me to slip in and out of them with ease.<br />
<br />
When I was unbearably frustrated, I didn't want you to see it.<br />
When I was disgruntled or disappointed, I didn't want you to see it.<br />
When I was judgmental or rude, I didn't want you to know it.<br />
When I was arrogant or prideful, I didn't want you to catch it.<br />
<br />
I could justify my choice of veil depending on the situation. When my book sales were laughable and I felt invisible, when I had tried everything I could think of to make myself somehow <i>relevant</i> in the saturated market in which I have chosen to exist, I didn't want to be like <i>that</i> author who posted about how hard it was on my page; I didn't want to be like <i>that</i> author who talked about how much time and money had gone into a particular project and then turn around and blame this factor or that factor as to why I had to quit; I didn't want you to see my tears or know about my insecurities. I was sure no one followed me to hear me complain. Instead, I covered up how I felt and posted what I thought I should.<br />
<br />
Alternatively, when I felt as though I had something to be proud of, I grasped at it, anxious to share it with my little world. Except, I didn't want you to think I was <i>boasting</i>, so I wrapped it in words of humility. I wanted to be the positive, uplifting voice that might encourage the people who felt as small as I did - only, underneath the veil, I was relieved that perhaps I wasn't as small as the people I thought I might inspire.<br />
<br />
And therein lies my greatest vice - comparison.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"An unhealthy view of social media can cause us to feel either ungodly pride or an unhealthy sense of inadequacy." </i></blockquote>
<i><br /></i>
The thing about Facebook - at least for me - is that it's a breeding ground for comparison and competition. My feed was bad enough all on its own. Filled with talk of the same two or three books that might have been the highlight of any given week, I measured myself against that author's success. As a business woman, I picked apart everything from their marketing strategy to the content they were selling. Except, what might have started off as research with good intentions soon turned into a competition I felt like I was losing all the time.<br />
<br />
On top of that, every author-support group I was in was just another breeding ground for mini wars waged against one another. It was as if we were all doing some sort of intricate dance through a minefield where, at any moment, an author at their breaking point would go off. While I won't say <i>every</i> post was meant for selfish gain, the vast majority of them seemed that way. Questions were posed as a sly way to perpetuate pride, and the comments that followed served as an opportunity for the jaded to one-up each other. And hear me when I say this - I'm not judging anyone as if I wasn't a participant; I'm merely stating my truth because I found myself playing along.<br />
<br />
I was feeding the resentment and the bitterness that was the sustenance for the monster within.<br />
<br />
I'd like to think we all have one. A monster within. I'd like to think I'm not alone, and we all have to fight against the thing when it's been awakened. Mine came to life slowly. In fact, it was so stealthy, I didn't realize it had taken over my subconscious until I looked at my virtual footprint and saw how ugly it was. You see, in my attempt to keep up the guise that I was fine, and I was going to overcome the challenges of being an indie author in an oversaturated market, and I was going to find success, I opened up a gate I never intended to open. And while I was covering up my insecurities with pretty veil after pretty veil, I found myself dancing in the minefield and hoping to find <i>life</i> when what I was really doing was enticing death.<br />
<br />
Yeah. I know. That sounds dramatic...but that is my truth.<br />
<br />
A couple of months ago, I decided I didn’t want to use Facebook as a platform for my business anymore; and when I eliminated myself as R.C., Rosalyn all but disappeared, too. I've never really had a big interest in using it for personal reasons. Unfortunately, I bought into the lie that I needed to be present and active on as many social media platforms as possible in order to find <i>success, </i>and Facebook was noted as one of the top communities in which to engage my readers. But I became someone I'm not when I got lost in the indie-author community, and I cultivated an unhealthy relationship with the platform.<br />
<br />
In the beginning, I saw it as a wonderland of readers and authors, support and encouragement, and books - so many books! But the longer I stayed, and the more time I spent scrolling, the easier it was for me to see beyond the glossy facade everyone wants you to see. At some point, I wasn't interested in trying to find the good, I was intent on finding something that would make me mad, because I knew I could always find something. And for whatever reason, my <i>righteous indignation </i>would make me feel temporary validated. Validated as a struggling writer, an insecure author, or a hopeless dreamer. But it was a lie. It was all a lie. As cliché as it may sound, I was looking for love in all the wrong places. Stepping away from that world has been one of the best decisions I've made for myself in a long time.<br />
<br />
In many ways, <i>#struggles</i> co-signed on that decision. A number of the issues Groeschel pointed out as symptoms of an unhealthy relationship with technology and social media sites were things that I had battled with. This book made me so glad that I had chosen to shut it down - even if it cost me some level of success as an author.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"When you occasionally (or often) unplug, you will find true rest for your soul. When you make pleasant boundaries, you will be making wise choices to keep your eyes, mind, and heart pure."</i></blockquote>
<br />
One of the other things I appreciated about <i>#struggles </i>was the reminder that while technology is a great resource to connect people, we can't forget to invest in our relationships on a deeper level. I've talked on the phone and hung out with my friends and family more in the last month than I can remember doing in a long time. It was a conviction that turned into a huge blessing, and a wonderful reminder that there is a disconnect when your relationship with another person is purely technology based. No matter how hard you try, I believe you lose a bit of authenticity when your friendships don't exist outside of the phone you hold in your hand or the computer screen in front of which you sit. And perhaps you would argue otherwise, but here's what I've come to notice...<br />
<br />
When I want to step away from my phone, when I want to unplug so as not to be that person who cannot live without the device - the friendships connected only to that device suffer and die.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"...as the gravitational pull to live online continues to grow, we must remind ourselves that the best relationships are not those that are limited to looking at a screen but those that involve loving a person in person."</i></blockquote>
<br />
At the risk of sounding dramatic (again,) I'm willing to admit that this book is kind of life changing. I didn't expect it to be, and yet I went into it with an open mind and an open heart and came out on the other side with a new perspective. I want to be a woman who lives intentionally and <b>loves</b> intentionally - <i>in person</i> - as often as possible. I want to embrace my limitations, know my boundaries, and choose to live in whatever way is the healthiest for me - even if that means going against the norm. And tomorrow - I'm turning my phone off. I have a little anxiety thinking about it, but one day - with a little practice - I won't, and I can't wait for that day.<br />
<br />
What about you? Would you be able to go a day without your phone? Could you slow down, seek out the silence, and simply enjoy being <i>unplugged?</i> What about five minutes? Seriously. I'm curious. Have you thought about it? If you haven't, maybe you should. And honestly, regardless of your answer (or your beliefs) I think everyone should read <a href="https://craiggroeschelbooks.com/book/struggles/">#struggles</a>. I would be surprised if it didn't challenge you. And you never know - it might change your life, too.<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09402403940206523345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497117169626507751.post-87576872367265437442018-03-11T11:00:00.000-07:002018-03-11T11:00:09.259-07:00Motorcycle BootsToday's Sunday Snippet is brought to you by - <i>Coder.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
When I first dreamed up the novel <i>Chasing After Me</i>, I thought I'd tell it from four points of view. Then I wrote a couple more books, thought on it again, and decided two points of view would be best. Except, when it came time for me to really focus my thoughts on the project, all I heard was Kenzie. Coder had been so silent - just watching in the background as Kenzie's story began to take shape in my mind. Eventually, I realized he didn't have anything to say; at least, not in the way I had anticipated. He was content to be a player in Kenzie's journey and nothing more. So I followed his lead. And while he may have stepped out of the spotlight for this story, he possessed this quiet dominance that seeped out onto almost every page of the novel. That's what I love the most about his character. He's so consistent. He's so <i>present</i>, and yet he humbly takes on the role of a supporter, letting Kenzie shine as she navigates her way through the season of her life in which we find her.<br />
<br />
Honestly, there are no words to adequately describe how special this man is to me or how unique of an experience it was to write him. So, without further ado, a snippet...<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<i>Chasing After Me</i><br />
<i>R.C. Martin © 2017</i><br />
<br />
I take a quick shower, deciding not to shampoo my hair, assuming that riding on the back of a motorcycle in early March with wet hair would lead to a wicked cold. Instead, I part it down the side, braid the front, and gather it into a messy bun at the nape of my neck. When Coder returns to his room, finding me in a pair of jeans and one of my flannel button-ups, he digs out a hoodie, draping it over my shoulders with instructions to wear it underneath my coat. I do as he says, sliding my feet into my black Chucks before he leads me outside.<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>If I had to describe his motorcycle in one word, I wouldn’t hesitate to call it sexy. The brand name on the side tells me that it’s a Ducati, but that means very little to me. What I know is that it’s black and sleek and sexy. Just the thought of riding on the back makes my stomach clench. It isn’t until Coder fits a helmet on my head—the kind that snaps underneath my chin—that I start to get nervous.<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Eyes up, Mack,” he insists. My eyes snap up to meet his obediently. “You look scared. Are you?”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I’ve just never—”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you trust me?”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My shoulders sag as I reach for his hand and insist, “Of course, I do.”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“All right, then don’t be scared. I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Nodding, I whisper, “I know.”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Few ground rules, yeah?” His hand still holding mine, he tells me a few things I need to know while riding at his back. I listen carefully, willing myself to be brave. When he’s done, he smashes a quick kiss against my lips and then reaches for his helmet. He slides it on over his head, his visor still raised, and then climbs onto his bike. Holding his hand out, he helps me straddle the seat behind him before he tells me, “Hands in my pockets, babe. Hold on tight.”<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I do as he says, shoving my hands in his jacket pockets, holding him so tightly, I’m practically plastered against his back.<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I hear it as he grunts, “Fuck,” before he lowers his helmet visor and starts the engine.<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The vibration between my legs surprises me, and I press my knees tighter against Coder. When he pulls out of the driveway, my breath catches in my throat, and I close my eyes as my stomach drops in fear. Then, as he speeds down the street, I start to relax when I get the sense that he’s in complete control. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t have any reason to be afraid. I remind myself of this a couple times, then draw in a deep breath before I open my eyes.<br />
<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The wind against my face is cold, but I don’t mind. It feels good being wrapped around Coder as we ride. With my eyes now open, I notice he’s taking a different route to the Payton house. There’s something about the way he handles every stop, every curve, and every turn that makes me think he’s done this a million times. I can feel how comfortable he is, how free he feels, and I now fully understand why he calls his Bronco his cage. Furthermore, I’m wholly aware that this is my true Coder—this is Motorcycle Boots—the man who controls this bike and wields all the power that it holds.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYWkL_Q4zT1aChwPOthe5aqafc_0LhfjVgveXJ3AaVu2Lfm-o6F_j2Jx4npcz0ei6CXWGrQ55W31ODS40pyjb7bxzSoJ_5G4uYsa-PuODApTGNfx8nSj6w5hyphenhyphenZHUPE1fESZGo8FqQUt8/s1600/Open+Road+-+Tease.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYWkL_Q4zT1aChwPOthe5aqafc_0LhfjVgveXJ3AaVu2Lfm-o6F_j2Jx4npcz0ei6CXWGrQ55W31ODS40pyjb7bxzSoJ_5G4uYsa-PuODApTGNfx8nSj6w5hyphenhyphenZHUPE1fESZGo8FqQUt8/s640/Open+Road+-+Tease.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/vyYgwOKDbuw?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" style="background-color: whitesmoke; box-sizing: border-box; color: #999999; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start; transition: color 0.2s ease-in-out, opacity 0.2s ease-in-out; white-space: nowrap;">Clint McKoy</a><span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #111111; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start; white-space: nowrap;"> on </span><a href="https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText" style="background-color: whitesmoke; box-sizing: border-box; color: #999999; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: start; transition: color 0.2s ease-in-out, opacity 0.2s ease-in-out; white-space: nowrap;">Unsplash</a></td></tr>
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