Books

WIPpet Wednesday: A promise

Happy Wednesday! I’m a little adrift this morning. I sent a novel I was proofreading back to its creator, and…I’m sad. I miss it. I miss the characters and long to be back with them. I don’t know if this is how other editors feel, but I experience this a lot.

Fortunately, I do have a new novella in my inbox to proofread, by yet another favorite client. So I’ll be doing that later, after I sneak in this blog post and some writing.

The first little over half of Minuet is with betas. They’ll have the rest before long. I’m so excited! And relieved, if I’m honest.

I’m posting something a little sweeter this week after last week’s snippet. It seemed to have induced a lot of Sage-directed anger in readers. Gee, I wonder why! Anyhow, this week, here’s a tender but sad moment between Amelia and Mack.

WIPmath: 4/10/2019 = 10 – 4 = 6 paragraphs

[Amelia] held her phone, favorite contacts list open, practicing in her head what she was going to say when Mack answered. With a deep, cleansing breath, she touched his number. She put it on speaker and set the phone in her lap; her hands were shaking too hard to hold it.

“Hey.” Mack sounded tired.

“Hi, you.” Amelia sniffled and then immediately lost it. Every last word she’d planned out left her brain. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said through her tears.

“Oh, babe. No. I…” Mack sounded like he was crying too. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up, baby.”

For a while, they stayed on the line, crying together. She wasn’t ready to forgive him yet, but she was going to do the one thing for him she never had. She wiped her eyes and breathed slowly until she was under control.

“Yeah, you did,” she said. “But I could’ve done better too. I…” She swallowed and then forced herself to say it. “I’ll go with you on Christmas. You shouldn’t do it alone.”

Like what you read? Be sure to check out the other entries and add your own. Just post a bit of your WIP, connect it to the date, and link up with us. Many thanks to Emily Wrayburn for giving us this space. Happy reading and writing!

WIPpet Wednesday: Cruel

Books, Writing

I picked this image because it made me laugh. Why is this half-naked guy holding a huge knife??? But also, I think it sums up Sage. See if you can figure out why.

Happy Wednesday! Time for another snippet. My whole family, except for me, is sick with the flu. I already had it weeks ago, though fingers crossed this is miraculously the same strain. My kids are out of school all week with it so they don’t share it around.

Minuet is…going. I’m popping a bit more in the Google Doc today, which means hopefully by next week, it’ll be in the capable hands of my betas.

Today being the not-great day that it is (lots of things just going wrong at once), I’m sharing a rather unhappy snippet. This is slight spoilers, but really, it’s not a huge plot point. Or not one that will make a difference if I share it, anyway. Fair warning, this contains swearing, insults, and Sage being Sage. (I’m not entirely sure how to warn for what Sage says to Mack other than it being cruel.)

“Nice as it is to see you, and meet your new plaything, I’m going inside. Where you can’t come.” Mack stepped closer to the door.

Sage grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. I’m sorry. I—” He looked over at Freckles. “How’s Jamie? I heard he wasn’t doing so well.”

“Oh. My. God.” Mack yanked his arm away, wishing he had the guts to punch the fake sympathy right off him. “You are a real piece of work. I don’t buy a second of your ‘concerned friend’ bullshit. I don’t owe you anything when it comes to Jamie.”

Sage’s pretty face contorted with anger. “Protecting him, like always. Tell me, does he know what you and I did?”

Mack clenched his jaw. Sage was baiting him, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. Of course he hadn’t told Jamie. It would’ve killed him at the time, and now, five years later, there was no reason anymore. Sage should’ve been out of their lives. Only here he was, standing on the sidewalk outside the one place Mack still thought of as safe.

“You spiteful, maggot-crusted, rotting bag of testicles,” Mack hissed. “Get the fuck away from me.”

Sage didn’t, not right away. He leaned in and whispered, “Do you still think about me every time another man has his cock up your ass?”

Rainbow Snippets: A tour

Books, Writing

Happy Saturday! It’s a quiet morning here for once.

Since I don’t have any current or upcoming new releases, I’m working my way through snippets of my past novels. My next release in September is the last part of a series, so I’ll eventually get to the previous books as part of this writerly time machine.

Here’s a second bit from my first novel, Lower Education, which is loosely based on the tale of the Pied Piper. Phin, the main character, is in a small town to evaluate its single-building school. He’s taking a tour, led by the last person he expected (or wanted) to see. The feeling is mutual.

“So, you mentioned a population dip and then a recent upswing—” Phin tried.

Alex turned around and frowned at him. “I fail to see how that’s at all relevant to your job. If you really want the town’s history, go over to the public library. I think there’s a book.”

Phin half expected him to add, If you can read it.

Rainbow Snippets is a safe and welcoming space for LGBTQIA+ authors, readers, and bloggers to share 6 sentences each week from a work of fiction—published or in-progress—or a book recommendation. Feel free to join in!

WIPpet Wednesday: A winter coat

Books, Writing

Happy Wednesday! I missed last week due to not feeling well (again). That is sadly my “new normal,” but I’m working on strategies for managing bad days and making the most of good ones. I’m back to the rheumatologist next week, probably to close things out with her—there’s nothing she can really do for me at this point.

Anyway, Minuet is finally off like a rocket. I have almost half of it in a file ready for my beta readers. I organized this book slightly differently this time, and I’m tidying up the rest of the second main section. While they work on the first two parts, I’ll get the next two ready. And then it’ll be off to the publisher!

Today’s snippet is from a different section than I’ve been posting. I shared this privately with a few people, but I’m putting it here now. I don’t think it’s necessarily spoilers. Mack’s done something…not great, and Amelia and Jamie have confronted him about it. They’re all owning a whole bunch of secrets they’ve kept from each other. Here’s Jamie’s.

WIPmath: 3/27/2019 = (2 + 7) – 3 = 6 paragraphs

Jamie swiped at his eyes, smudging his makeup. “You know how he finally got me?”

Mack looked up at him. “How?”

“He bought me a winter coat.” Jamie laughed without humor. “A fucking jacket. Not even anything precious or special or fancy. I needed a new one, and I wouldn’t ask Brandon’s family. He told me no one should be without one, and he took me shopping. The whole time, I kept expecting he would do what he always did—flatter me, tell me how hot I’d look in the clothes we passed in the store along the way. I wondered if there were gonna be strings attached, like I’d have to agree to go out with him. But the only thing he did was buy the coat. He said it was shit, what happened to me, and he told me no one deserved that.” Jamie sniffled. “You know, he never once asked for the money back. A week later, when I got my next paycheck, I told him I’d give him a little at a time until I’d paid it off. He refused, and he stopped asking me out too. Instead, he would pull me aside, check in with me and ask if I was doing okay, if I needed anything. That spring, we were packing up my drums, and…” Jamie was outright crying now, mascara-streaked tears running down his cheeks. “I saw him differently, this side of him he never showed anyone else. I…stopped him. And I kissed him. We ended up getting off in the back of the recording studio while everyone else was loading my drums into Mack’s van.”

Amelia exchanged a glance with Mack and saw he was as surprised as she was. The whole time, she’d thought Sage wore Jamie down until he said yes. Judging from Mack’s raised eyebrows, he’d thought the same.

“I had no idea,” Mack confirmed. “I’m sorry.”

Jamie drew his wrist across his eyes then looked at it in disgust where he’d smeared his eyeliner. “He knew exactly what he was doing. It was never about me or what I needed. He was manipulating the whole thing. You weren’t wrong to try keeping him from me. You just did it in the wrongest, most fucked up way possible.”

Oh, is it time to barf on Own Voices again? Le Sigh.

Books, Writing

It’s time to revisit the subject of Own Voices again because it’s come up in yet another really uncomfortable conversation.

A few months ago, I wrote this blog post about the in-betweens. For me, that means I’m frequently stuffed into the “not enough” closet. That is, I don’t appear to others as if I am any of the things I say I am. They are free to read into what I look like on the outside. Funnily enough, for the most part, that means people not marginalized in that way think I’m Not Like Them. And people who are part of those marginalized communities also think I am Not Like Them. Everyone acts accordingly.

Now, back to the subject of Own Voices. I tend to write a whole damn lot about people like me—those who can’t be tidily sorted and counted. People who are bisexual. Non-binary people. Halfies (patrilineal “half Jewish” people, and I will thank you not to call me a slur we’ve reclaimed). People with invisible disabilities. I am passionate about making sure readers like me can see themselves reflected in the stories I tell.

When I see other authors going after Own Voices as if it’s the Hand of God come to exact judgment and divine revenge on them, I search for the nearest desk to plant my head. This entirely and spectacularly misses the point.

Own Voices is not some kind of mandate that anyone stop writing whatever the hell they want. Write it! Seriously! I mean, yeah, maybe listen when people tell you it has issues, especially if you are writing about something very far from your own experiences. But truly, this is just not about you, and making it so is ignoring some fundamental realities.

The whole reason for Own Voices is not to stomp on the precious feelings of white hetero and bi women and non-binary people who write gay male romance and erotica. It really, really, really very much is not. So take a step back, remind yourself it’s not about you, and have a think about what Own Voices might actually be attempting to do.

In the publishing industry, some voices are prioritized. Not only is it harder to find mainstream, popular media about LGBTIA+ people, it’s also harder to find mainstream, popular media created by LGBTIA+ people. The same is true for just about every marginalized identity and especially if those overlap at all. We’re often told our work is “too niche” or “not as good.” Instead, publishers often prefer sanitized versions of us or stories in which we are punished or our allies are made into the true heroes.

This is the very thing Own Voices is meant to address. It’s meant to make heard the voices of people who are telling stories about ourselves and our communities from firsthand experience. It isn’t a commandment to write (or not write) about people exactly like ourselves in every single way.

The thing is, even if you identify as part of a marginalized group, it is entirely possible to oppress people who don’t share your identity. Heck, it’s even possible to do that within your own identity. A lot of us internalize a whole bunch of crap over the course of a lifetime. We can buy into stereotypes and lies about people like ourselves and then spew it back on the page. Or we might refuse to write about people who share our identities because we don’t feel secure in them. (I’ve seen people say they won’t write about non-binary people because our bodies are “gross,” for example.)

We might convince ourselves that some parts of our community are “more privileged” and therefore it is okay to write however we want about them—even if those people have said they are uncomfortable with how they are written about. In reality, we probably need to have some open conversations about how cishetero patriarchy has wormed its way in everywhere and affected our preferences when it comes to media.

The funny thing is, a lot of the anti-Own Voices folks cannot seem to take their own advice. Don’t want to be part of that, either reading or writing? Well, then, ignore it instead of making it into the supreme enemy of free speech.

If it makes me some kind of terrible person, no, I don’t support everyone writing whatever they want. I mean, in a legal sense, yes. Anyone can write what they like and publish what they like. That doesn’t mean I will read it, and it doesn’t mean I won’t argue back that “free speech” and “but some people like it” are not points in favor of it being a good thing.

However, kicking against major branches of small publishing are not a good use of my limited time and energy. So instead, I will continue to support Own Voices. I will continue to buy those books and recommend them. And I will not support, with my money or my energy, books by authors who sit in their white privilege and complain that Own Voices is attacking them.

Rainbow Snippets: Time Machine

Books, Writing

Happy Saturday! We’re busy-busy as usual, or at least the kids are, but just fun stuff this time. They’re off in a bit to a birthday party.

Meanwhile, I’ve got some beta reading and some writerly housekeeping to take care of. It’s actually easy and fun, so I’m looking forward to it.

I don’t have any current or upcoming new releases. My next novel is due to the publisher in 6 weeks or so (yikes!), and it won’t be out until September. So instead, I’m taking a trip back in time to introduce various characters from my past novels. By the time the new book is out, I’ll have made the rounds of the series it’s part of.

Today, this is from my first novel, Lower Education. It’s loosely based on the tale of the Pied Piper. Meet Phin Patterson, an educational consultant who skirts the line of dubious ethics. He’s been hired by the State Education Department to stamp a small-town school with a big, red X using any means necessary. Too bad he doesn’t count on some very savvy townsfolk.

Before leaving his room, Phin glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He smoothed his sandy blond hair, which he’d had cut and styled for the occasion, and gave himself a cheeky wink and a smirk. Surely he wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone to kiss up to. There was always someone willing to provide dirt on a coworker, even in a school, for the right price. He would also need to find something entertaining to make his stay worthwhile. With any luck, he could have that and a successful trip.

WIPpet Wednesday: A promise

WIPpet Wednesday: Cruel

Rainbow Snippets: A tour

WIPpet Wednesday: A winter coat

Oh, is it time to barf on Own Voices again? Le Sigh.

Rainbow Snippets: Time Machine

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