Forget Writer's Block. I invented Reader's Block.
I haven’t blogged in a long while. I’ve been very busy and not so busy. Yeah, figure that out would ya.
Thought one that is nagging me: Reading. I love reading. I devour it, inhale it, and NEED it. I’ve been very disappointed lately. My all-time favorite series have lost their appeal. I enjoy a new read- it’s exciting and fresh, but most fall flat. I find myself starting books and dropping them. This previously was a huge no-no of mine, along with skimming and dropping series. I am a habitual offender of my own rules at this point. It’s so sad. This was the reason I started writing again. The more I write the more difficult it is to read. I find myself editing their work or screaming at (whatever app I’m reading from) “Why did you write yourself into a corner. NO!” This is a real problem. I can’t enter imagination-land. I know we’ve all heard of writer’s block, how about reader’s block. I know it exists; I have it!
Thought Two: It’s more than a thought; it’s an obsession. It’s constant and needling. MY stories! I can’t sleep or concentrate without a cast of characters playing out their daily lives making it impossible to live mine. I feel schizophrenic at this point. I previously wrote a blog about how writing a serialize storyline makes me insane. I write constantly to relieve the pressure. I wrote a book in a week. It was an accomplishment for sure and it was a full-length novel. I was a zombie. No sleep, no food, no bathing- not all week; I’m not that disgusting. It was for the weekend. This madness had caused me to lose at least twenty pounds in the last few months. While it may be awesome, it’s scary as hell. If I lived alone, one day my neighbor would smell a foul odor and not because I forgot to bathe. You’d find my corpse cross-legged in a chair with her fingers on her laptop because the madness finally won. And boy would I love to live alone and immerse myself into my own world. It wouldn’t be healthy though. I get cranky when I get into my work so far, that when I’m thrust out, I want to scream, “leave me the fuck alone.” Yes, I’m a sailor, but a polite one. I only say it in my head, never aloud.
Thought three: I started a book last night. I got 41% thru it and gave up. My issue is that if you are writing a 16 yr old, he better sound like one. I won’t say who the author is because I am not making fun. I wish that his editor or a beta would maybe gently tell him to fix it. I know how writers are. Don’t tell them to fix something. I’ve had steam billow from my ears before and that person is on my shit-list. So as tactfully as possible, explain that if you write a character a certain way, then you must write his internal dialogue, dialogue, and everything else in that voice. This book was written to show how great the use of a dictionary and thesaurus was. <— yeah, that sentence is awkward and I’m not fixing it! This book drove me bonkers. “Exited the mall.” How about left or went home. “Pleasant visit.” He’s 16- he hung out. He’s not 90 yet. “Delectable delicacies.” Come on, ya know ya just wanna say cake or pie. Hell a 16 yr old boy won’t even know the name of the dessert. He’d call it a cookie or something. It was like this every sentence. PLEASE, don’t get me wrong; I hate to have dumbed down characters. HATE IT!
Thought four: Sex! Yeah… I said SEX. S E X! I’m an erotic fiction writer and I will proudly fly my freak-flag. I’m not ashamed. I’m also a fantasy writer and a contemporary fiction writer. Sex doesn’t define my writing. When someone asks what kind of books I’ve published, I say, “Dark Erotica.” And they wince. They think smut. Oh, I’ve read smut and I won’t lie- I find it titillating. *snickers* Sex to me is a biological need- like food, water, and air. While we don’t need it to survive, we need it to feel complete. I’m feeling rather empty at the moment. ;) I believe in the primal urges. I write with them. I may write a character the readers love and make her do something very, very bad. Later I will redeem her. I’ll write villains and make them good. Why? We are humans and we act out of human nature. Therefore, I will always add sex to my books. The genre will dictate how explicit it will be. Don’t judge me for it.
Thought five: Sex made me think of this one. In my blurb is a disclaimer stating the level of violence, sex, and orientation of the characters. I am sick of being rated on what I write. It says D A R K E R O T I C A <—- google it; I don’t feel like explaining. I have been bashed for starting my series with a rape. A rape that impacts a vast cast of characters. Sorry folks, rape is real and it happens every minute of every day. I make no apologies for it. My stories are raw, real, emotional, and MINE! I do not glamorize this scene to shock or turn anyone on. It is, what it is. I also never said I write romance. There will be romantic entanglements and an undercurrent of a love story, but that isn’t the premise- connection and human nature is my premise. SO, do not bash me for my genre and do not down rate me when you find out it’s not romance. I already told you that in the blurb. It will be humorous, loving, shocking, raw, and brutal, as is life. Also don’t down rate me when you read a bisexual scene or a gay scene. BLURB. I already warned ya, it’s not my fault you didn’t believe me. Yet again, why? Because in life we are not the same. We are every nationality, every religion, and every sexual orientation. I do not have 50 versions of myself running around my stories. I like me, but NOT that much. Jeez! Kids. I’ve been bashed for having kids in my stories or marriages. Um- yeah… Wasn’t aware that all we have roaming this earth is 20-something hotties. Plus, my series is long running over a time line of twenty years- those hotties either started out as kiddies or are very old and no longer hot by your biased standards. And yeah, my kids (imaginary kids. I’m not a parent) are brats and do naughty stuff, but they are loving and friendly, too. Hmm… wonder where I go that from? Oh, life.
Thought six: Self-published Indies are not “real” authors. FUCK YES, I AM! When I come upon the random person (family member) I say I publish them myself and I’m discounted as a fraud. Or when my mom (I love you, don’t hit me) introduces me, she says shit like, “Housewives are doing it all the time.” Um- that belittles me. I’m not a housewife, nor am I a wife. (Not that I have anything against housewives. I used to be one) And this is a job. I work harder than those so-called “real” authors. I still came up with the story, outlined it, and wrote it, just as they would have. But I also edited it, and created cover art, published it, fielded fans and haters, promoted it, and tried to figure out the best price point for marketing and how to get the most traffic for my book. I was the one who sat for hundreds of hours creating MY story. Do not discount me because I self-published. I think of myself as a publisher, too. I earned the title. *Fist pumps the air* Indie Power!
Thought Seven: Tenants, I beg you not to mess with your Landlord. She may have a nervous breakdown in the process. Problem: I deal with the tenants for my father. He allowed another employee to do the final walk-thru. I went to see the condition of the apartment knowing I would have to paint. I painted the walls in this 4 bedroom- 2 bath- 2 living space apartment last time, a very nice mocha color. The lease says no painting. First, the next tenant’s belongings won’t match your color scheme and second, it takes a lot of paint to cover up S H I T! I’ve had some bad, bad tenants. So I’m used to it… or so I thought. Keep in mind I almost brought a client to look at the place with me… I don’t care how well of a job you did, it’s ten layers thick.. I’ll have to sand first! Welcome to the fun house!
News about my writing: For all the M&M fans. I am writing Queen, which will be released in an omnibus edition and separately. Jade takes place when Regina is an eighteen-year-old high school graduate and she has the world at her fingertips until the Whittenhowers acquire her. (Completely written and edited) Queened, is the journey Regina takes to become Queen. (Almost finished. on the home stretch) Checkmate takes place in the current time frame of the M&M series. Each book averages over 50K, which is on average with the rest of the series. I’m offering the Queen omnibus for a price break on fans and so that all three books, that are in Regina’s voice, will be together as a progressive journey.
Whitt will be written after the Queen Books. I have about 30K written for Cortez already as well. I’m toying with the title King and it’s not for who you think it would be for or why ;)
I started a book last September titled Chrysalis. This book will be edited directly after Queen is completed. It is over 100K and it needs edited badly, plus it is the first book I ever wrote. SO I am nervous and excited to get my hands on it again. It’s been nonstop M&M and I want my Fantasy trilogy back. I need something else since I am being consumed with Restraint’s membership. Eve has been whispering softly in my ear while I sleep asking if I’ve forgotten her. I have not.
What is super exciting is that all these books will be released at the same time, just in time for the holidays. Queen omnibus- Jaded- Queened- CheckMate- Chrysalis- and depending on my progress… Whitt. I gave myself until Sept. 1st to finish Jaded and instead I managed to almost complete Queened as well. Those books are guarenteed to be released in Nov. however, there may be others. Let’s see if I can pull a rabbit outta my hat! & Restraint will be free on Amazon and Barnes and Noble from Thanksgiving to New Years for the holidays. My gift to all of you. I love my readers whether they love my work or not. Thank you for reading my stories!
I want to say I’m proud of myself without being arrogant. I humbly say that I am proud of myself. I have accomplished so much in the past six months and I don’t care if people hate on me or put me down. My progress cannot be taken away. September 24th marks the 2 yr anniversary since I changed my life. It was one of my proudest moments. But it took me almost a year to feel normal again. I don’t mean lay around eating icecream and bawling on my bed while watching chick flicks. I mean, feeling normal. Allowing others to touch me without flinching. To feel that holding a conversation was normal. I felt like a beaten dog, and I’d flinch just like one. To be happy and mean it. To smile and feel it. To hold my head high and draw my shoulders back and shout, “take me as I am or get the fuck out!” I like who I am now and I don’t care if anyone else does. I’ve found my passion and my reason that I walk this earth. “My name is Erica Chilson and I am a storyteller. May I entertain you for a few brief moments from life’s little miseries.”