FREE SEX ADVICE...about your writing.

You make me giggle.  You are so sweet.  I love your wiggle.  Let me tickle your feet. 

Kids of the opposite sex are drawn to each other.  They don't know why it happens.  The only thing they really know is that it makes them happy to be together.                                                               

Then they grow up and find themselves in a heap of trouble.  Why?  Well there's this thing called sex. 

No, anything but that!

I had a fabulous romance writer friend ask me a question yesterday that got me thinking.  How can I write a sex scene without being too explicit?  Now why the heck would I want to do that?  I've asked myself the same question for the last ten minutes but decided to just go with it for the sake of the blog.

                                  

How would my readers feel about this?  It's a question each writer should ask themselves.  Above all we are storytellers, entertainers.    We should care what the readers think, yearn to deliver the perfect tale.                                                                                                                                                          

I have learned that there are ways to tweak a scene so that it's pretty clean.  Aluding to an act can some times be just as powerful and dramatic.                                                                                                                                             

                                                                               

Let's say for instance that Sam invited Mary back to his hotel room. 

They talk.  They kiss.  The lights go off.  Next thing we know it's morning and Mary is dropping off her room key at the front desk while Sam is still snug in bed with a self-satisfied grin that goes from ear to ear...or he could be smoking in bed....or maybe she's cooking him pancakes while wearing his pajama top and nothing else....or perhaps she stepped out of the shower.   There are tons of ways to alude to the fact that they've spent the night together.  I know a couple that plays scrabble in bed.  They didn't take kindly to me asking them if it was nude scrabble.  Heck, I thought it was funny.                                               

Then there's the whole issue of body parts.  If you're going to refer to genitals please avoid scientific terms.  Vagina and penis make me feel like if I'm sitting in a biology class.  Also, refrain from using funny terminoligy unless it applies to your story. 

To say, "she reached for the one-eyed wonder weasel" might have me laughing my ass off but it will not get me hot and bothered and ruin the whole scene.  Okay, I will most probably keep on reading just because it's me, but I doubt editors will be too happy.  

Speak real English.  Use the words we say behind closed doors.  Don't be bashful about it.  Readers will love you for it.  If you can't manage the actual words consider not saying them at all.

For example:  Mary stepped out of the tub.  Her mouth watered at the sight of Sam leaning against the doorway.  She took a few steps toward him eager to wipe that smug grin from his face.  She lifted her hand to her face while trying hard to maintain eye contact.  Very slowly, she ran the tip of her tongue over the length of her palm.  Then, she reached for him.  (See, no naughty words at all.)

 

Hope this has been helpful or at the least entertaining.  Have a great day!

LITTLE GIRLS HAVE BIG DREAMS.

                                                               
                                                                
Little children can have incredible dreams.  They can believe they can fly, shoot into space, slide to the other side of the rainbow and land in a pool of pink bubbles made of cotton candy.  The dreams grow even more fantastic when there's no adult around to tell them to stop dreaming.  And that's when children become scribes.  My message today is for first time writers.  I want the world to know that I've made mistakes in pursuit of my dreams.  Why?  It's our frailties that render us human.

Years ago I committed a crime that immortalized the words of a horny teenager. I submitted what I considered a masterpiece to be filed in the Library of Congress. Why? It was my first completed manuscript. I was young, and I thought it was the initial step to publishing. Pleased with my achievement, I queried an agent and sent him the first fifty pages only to receive a tiny card with an impersonal refusal. I was devastated. Believe it or not, your first rejection should be gut-wrenching. That’s what makes you try harder.

I purchased a how-to book and educated myself in the art of querying, which for me is as horrible as attempting a sudoku. I learned about manuscript format, spacing, and the dreaded synopsis. I began to search the net for agents, having memorized the common mantra. “The business of publishing is subjective.” Translation: An agent has to love the story enough to toot your horn and get publishers to like it. That’s okay. We want an agent that’s going to be passionate about our writing.

There are rules to follow. Know your genre. If you find an agent that represents your genre, it’s a good idea to check out the books on his site to see where you fit. Obviously, I’m still searching. There is an overwhelming amount of information available on the internet alone for anyone who wishes to master the art of writing. Don’t ignore it. Show respect. Know your grammar. Demonstrate your willingness to learn. Whoever said that ignorance is bliss was a fool.

Some books are meant to be shelved. None of us are born with a quill in hand ready to execute the perfect novel. Your first few attempts at writing serve a purpose, to chisel away the rough edges. You’ll find you’re telling instead of showing, going crazy with the adverbs, accidentally writing porn scenes, and losing all track of the plot. When all else fails, just write because it’s what you love to do.

The best advice I can offer: Don’t view an obstacle as an opposing force. Instead, see it as an opportunity to better yourself and ultimately achieve the much coveted literary glory.

Happy writing, and don't forget about your dreams.

　

Villain 2 and Other Stuff.

Tetrixon was my second villain.   He's a warlord, someone who follows orders from a deeper darker being.  He no longer knows of any other way to survive.  The following excerpt describes him at the moment of his first arrival without explaining where he came from. His second in command argues with him in regards to their presence in the strange galaxy.

*

One could fantasize that his exterior resembled death in a cloak and bony mask; maybe his skin oozed out ashes or blood. Perhaps he breathed out a poison that could demolish complete societies with a single trickle, but that wasn’t the case for Tetrixon, as is seldom the case for any killer or murderer. No. He was tall, robust, and put together like a ragged warrior. His hair was a silvery blond. His rich topaz eyes were vivisected by cross-like pupils. His lips hinted at a slight pout; it was a mark of passion shared with a certain woman.

*

“Can’t we coexist with people for once in our

lives without trying to exterminate them?”

Tetrixon sighed. “We’ve been through this before, Ferina. It’s not our decision to make, and it would do you well to stop sympathizing with the enemy. We are the Fury.” 

*

Now for some more drawings. 

*

                                                         There's a lot of story building involved in writing this
                                                novel.  I've filled it with animals, real and fantastic.  This
                                                little guy is not in the book.  His name was Kismet.  I had
                                                him for six months, then had to put him to sleep due to an
                                                incurable desease.

                                                            This is Xanadu.  Are there shelties
                                                             in my book?  Well yeah.  I couldn't
                                                             resist.  This little guy is mine only
                                                             in spirit now, but he's the reason
                                                             why I love dogs so much.

                                     
                                          This was my dookie attempt at self protrait with Xanadu.

Everyone have a nice weekend!!!

Villain 1 and Other Stuff

I had mentioned on an earlier blog that I had two villains in my book. The death of the first opens the door to the second. Cassia is my first. She starts off innocent enough, until I transform her into a self-centered, power-hungry, downright cruel bitch. Here is a brief piece of a conversation she has with Craven’s best friend after her betrayal.

*

“Damon, let’s be realistic. How could I possibly harm Craven? He has Pantheas, strength, thirty five years over me, and armies at his back. What do I possess that could inflict the least bit of damage upon your darling brother?”



“His heart,” was the simple answer.



She flinched. It was brief, barely noticeable. “That’s redundant. Things are already set in motion.”

*

I always hated Cassia too much to draw her.   She was everything a man like Craven could ever hope for.  You know the type they show on TV, the trophy wives with the fake lips, store-bought boobs, and the tiny tattoo of a devil with a pitchfork pointed at the crease of their ass.  (Okay, I made that last part up, but she does have a tattoo, and I always thought it'd be hilarious to have one like that.)  The point is that she was his dream woman.  He was blind, lovestruck, and she tried her best to ruin his life.  I was thrilled to kill her...so no pictures of her.


Instead, I will post a drawing of a more personal nature because the mention of the tattoo reminded me of  an old friend. 

This is Janine. She’s a friend from my past, the woman I spoke about that had the brain tumor when she was a child. It managed to disfigure half her body. She was always afraid of having me draw her.

“I’ll just look ugly,” she said.

“No you won’t,” I assured. “That’s not what I see when I look at you.”

She finally yielded. It was simple to make the necessary alterations so that both sides of her face matched. When I was done, she held the drawing up to her, eyes misting over.

“I’m beautiful,” she said, “but it’s not me.”

“Sure it is. Don’t argue with an artist. That’s the you that I see.”

We were friends for a long time, and yet we haven’t spoken in years. Maybe it was her outspoken envy of me, or the fact that after she downed half a bottle of tequila she tried to make a pass at me.

I remember running out of her apartment and making a long distance phone call to would-be hubby.

“She wanted you to do what?” he nearly shouted, then paused, voice softened. “Well, did you?”

The man had a one-track mind, still does.

That was about it for our friendship. Still, sometimes I miss her. It’s not everyday you make a friend that allows you complete honesty without judging. I don’t hold her audacity against her. Total acceptance can be irresistible, with or without tequila.

My Heroine and More Drawings

I find humor in most things, and that has not always proven to be an advisable quality. In fact, it has often hauled with it an unavoidable drawback. People grow so accustomed to that first layer that they don’t bother to look any deeper.   In addition, unless you earn a large amount of money making people laugh, prepare yourself to be presented with a label.  Remember Rodney Dangerfield?  Society will not respect you or take you seriously unless you come accross as slightly constipated.


Keeping that in mind, when I created my heroine, Theodora, (again, there is symbolism behind the name) I wanted her to be so unique that she’d keep my readers guessing.   Picture a young boy or maybe a young girl catching a glimpse of a nude scene on TV, or a copy of Playboy...girl, etc..fill in the  blanks.  The teenager is fascinated, feels guilty, embarrassed, excited, quickly surveys the room to make sure no one has caugh him or her in the act of watching, coveting, growing aroused.  That feeling, that's what I wanted Theodora to draw out.  If you've lived life and focused solely on the profound and never once peeked at the profane, you're missing half the story.   


I made her light and dark. In no way was she to fit the norm of any society. She was meant as a wildcard, someone who would break or bend every rule and have the other person believing it was their idea. She’s kind, naughty, slightly manipulative, and not of Craven's galaxy.  She will move the readers to tears and make them fall in love.  I've enjoyed writing her and making her do things I would never even attempt in secret.  There's nothing I can say about her that won’t reveal the heart of my story, so I’ll settle for some very brief dialogue.

(She first encountered Craven inside a cave where he was shackled and left for dead. The sight of him was too hard to resist.   He never even learns her name in the first book, but from that moment they were inseparable.)

*

“Are you a guardian or a tempter?” he asked.

One of the hands on his face made a slow journey down the center of his body pausing to brush the underside of his rampant erection. He sucked air through gritted teeth.

Her lips twitched at the corners. “I’m a little of both.”

*

Since Theodora is my heroine, and there is an angel companion at her side who makes guest appearances throughout the book, I thought I would post some angelic art, mediocre sketches I once worked on. I am much more critical of my drawings than I am my writing. The writing I can fix. What’s set in color is there for life.

                                                   This is Maggie.  That's what I call her.
                                                    I found her face in a newspaper once.
                                                    She was about the size of a quarter.  I
                                                    thought she'd look great in color and
                                                    with a couple of cats.  See, she reminded
                                                    me of myself when I was little.

                                      
                                          Many art lovers have seen the sleeping angel.  I tried
                                          to mimic my favorite artist.  He did it much better.

                                                     Here's a quick sketch of Michael, the archangel
                                                     because I love religious pictures and angels are
                                                     too lovely to ignore.

Tomorrow I present my first villain.

A Peek at My World

When I first started plucking away on this blog, I didn’t care if the words I set down were ever read. It was for me, an outlet, a way to flex my artistic muscles by posting about the situations in life that move me. I used it to absorb invaluable information about the craft of writing and publishing. I had no way of knowing that I would encounter others who had struck out on my same journey.

Like an artist wielding a brush so do we take quill to hand and struggle to leave a permanent imprint in the minds and hearts of many. We are scribes eager to be published, read, and filled with the knowledge that we’ve touched, baffled, and even mesmerized our readers. And it is an honor to share the floor with so many.

I am a writer. It’s what I do to help the monotony of the world fall into place and conform to a more attractive pattern. Having said that, it didn’t seem as a surprise to me at all when I gave birth to a galaxy, conjured it out of the void.

Twelve planets occupied the unusual solar system. At the head was Pantheas. (There is symbolism behind the name. I have based it on the theory of Pantheism, the belief that God is everything, that we are all connected.) To govern this planet, I created Craven. (Also symbolic of his rise from fear.)

He is my protagonist, my hero. The story begins and ends with him. It was my intention to describe him in this post, but maybe the best way I can do that is to include a short excerpt. This material has been tweaked to keep from revealing deep dark secrets.

(I’ve given the man powers, looks, a planet, and a woman. He was happy. Then I started messing with him. The first thing I did was cause his woman to betray him by stripping her of what she loved the most.)

　

*

Craven looked away. “I’ve been called a man of deep passions, mostly because I don’t give my heart to just any woman. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with her.” He stopped talking. The pain was wrenching his ribs apart.

*

*

(This scene begins in the throne room. Consumed with fury over his woman’s betrayal, Craven succumbs to a moment of weakness, an indiscretion. He snatches a palace pet, a name used to describe servant women to the king. Had I not tweaked it, the scene would have revealed his powers and the secret that makes this story unique. This is also a small attempt at smoothing out a hot sex scene.)

*

Hands touched her, and a mouth, an oral conduit of liquid fire. He was everywhere, inside her, stretching her, filling her. She leaned back onto the man, intoxicated by the movement of his pelvis and the hand weaving expert torture on the flesh between her thighs.

Dreamy eyes regarded the king of Pantheas. “My lord?”

“Nydia, are you alright? The first time can be difficult.”

She grew a fiery red before sitting up. “I’m fine.”

He tapped her cheek. “Good. Then go now.”

She hurried to her feet and ran out of the throne room.  Soon she’d be telling the other women about their encounter.  They would gossip happily as was the female tendency. A smile flirted with his lips, but he refused to give in. He stood, glanced at the ground, and inhaled a deep breath. He had betrayed his own code of ethics. Life couldn’t possibly get any worse.

*

*

(And then it did, much worse, but that takes the rest of the book.)

I've just completed editing the first 200 pages of my manuscript.  I hope that by the time I finish edits on 500+ I'll have longer dialogue and maybe a scene or two to offer.

I've managed to sketch out a cartoon character of Craven.  This is what I have so far.  It's black and white and scratchy (kinda ick).  I can do so much better.  His eyes should be an unusual shade of green, and the scar should be on the other side.  His hair is black.  If you're wondering about the spots...no, he's not a shifter, but what he is and why he looks the way he does reveals plenty of my plot.  (I also know what he looks like naked, but that would be inappropriate.)

Tomorrow I'll post something brief on my heroine.

*

Check out something cute.  This is my favorite cartoon character and the easiest drawing I've ever finished.                                        "Sentimental Reasons."

See you all tomorrow.

Happy 4th of July

Today is a proud day for many Americans.  I know it is for me.  As many of you know by now, I wasn't born in this country but had the privilege  to be sucked into this culture at the age of six.  I can't picture living anywhere else.  In honor of such a great day, let's all go out and celebrate. 

Please do join me tomorrow as I offer a peek into my main characters, my WIP, and post a few mediocre drawings I've used to pass the time.