Monday, June 3, 2013

Writing is a career

If a writer wants to be taken seriously, they have to treat the job seriously. That means that the comments they make in public need to be professional. Of course, they can talk about their children, and their pets, and their garden, exactly as you might talk about such topics at work. But just as being rude to the boss at your day job may see you unemployed fairly quickly, so too being rude about your cover or your publisher may see you not getting any more covers or contracts.
Publishing is a small world. Everyone knows someone who knows someone. So switch off the internet before raving about how your heroine has long blonde hair and is overweight, and the cover model is a size zero with a bob cut. Spell check your blog posts. Answer emails from your publisher and their staff in a timely manner. In other words, you’re at work, so act in a professional manner.
And most of all keep writing.
Some days it’s natural to want to come home, sink into a comfortable chair, and relax. Do that. For half an hour. Then get your butt in front of the computer and start writing. Every page is one page closer to the end of the book. Even one paragraph is better than nothing.
I’ve been able to write a number of books because I write shorter books. Mine are mostly under 25,000 words. This means fewer characters, less complicated plots, and the book as a whole is faster to write. The shorter length suits me. But that’s a matter of personal choice. The only rule is to keep writing. Every day if you possibly can.
I write for several different publishers. Because I write across different genres, I send each different genre to a different publisher. Writing several different genres helps me stay fresh and different, and writing for several different houses means I can have more books released than might be the situation at just one publisher. Of course, it also means that sometimes I have edits for several different books at once, which can be a headache. But overall, the system works for me.
Promotion can be a big drain on time. I have a blog and a website. I try to update my blog several times a week. I update Facebook and Twitter most days, sometimes twice a day. With chat loops, I read and respond to two loops I like, that have a mix of authors and readers. I go to at least one chat a month but these can vary from a special chat day that’s so busy it’s almost impossible to keep up with the posts, to ones where it’s like you’re talking to an empty room. I know often people lurk on loops but I really don’t know how helpful such chats are, either the incredibly busy one s or the almost silent ones.
I also guest blog from time to time, and enjoy visiting other people’s blogs and talking to the commenters. But again, it’s a big time commitment, first to write the blog, then to keep coming back and commenting. My hope is that every now and then someone will enjoy my blurbs and excerpts and be prepared to try one of my books.
Do I have the best plan to make my writing a successful career? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m doing my best to treat this seriously as my profession, to learn all I can, and to keep researching, keep learning and keep writing.
So, in the hopes that someone reading this enjoys paranormal stories, here’s a taste of “Naked Statues”.
Wanna know what statues get up to at night?

“Naked Statues” blurb:
A series of naked, well-endowed statues in the local park encourage lovers Fleur, Ricky, and Heath to indulge in some hot, naughty public sex. But is there more to these statues than rock-hard abs?
Lily and Flynn have been trapped inside a statue since last Halloween. When a mischievous God with a love of all things sexual swaps them for the trio of lovers, can the strength of their love set them all free?

Heath was staring up at a statue of a woman wearing nothing much, with one huge breast exposed.
“Climb up and kiss it, Heath and I’ll take your photo,” called Fleur.
Heath shrugged the backpack off his shoulders and took a run up to the statue, catching hold of her elbows and kissing the breast, before dropping back to the ground.
The three laughed over the rather blurry photo on Fleur’s phone then Heath picked up his backpack and they continued walking around the little path, which took another turn.
“We seem to be walking around this never-ending hedge-thing. I wonder what it is,” commented Fleur.
Still another turn took them to the opening in the hedge and a sign.
“It’s a maze! Oh awesome, come, on,” called Fleur running inside. “Right or left?”
Ricky scanned the sign, but there was no key to the maze there. “Likely we’ll be stuck here for a hundred years, slowly starving and turning into skeletons,” he wailed in as mournful a voice as he could manage.
“Our bones will be found by archeologists on a dig in the year 2100,” added Heath in a sepulchral tone.
But Fleur just laughed, turning right and left as they meandered through the maze.
After half a dozen dead-ends, and just when Ricky was getting tired of the game, they found themselves in the center of the maze. There was a cluster of benches to sit on, and a fountain.
Predictably, in the middle of the fountain was a statue of a man and a woman, dressed in long cloaks and very little else, in a clinch.
“You know, people say art today is pornographic, but when you look at statues like the ones in the Gardens here, they’re definitely anatomically correct,” said Heath.
“Oh yes. Just think of all the famous paintings we studied in school. Most of them were naked too. And David,” added Fleur, licking her lips.”
“David who?” Ricky wasn’t following her conversation.
“Michelangelo’s David. Now he’s mighty easy on the eyes.”
“Didn’t the museum hang a fig leaf over his cock or something so ladies wouldn’t be shocked?” asked Ricky.
“Yeah because he’s not circumcised.”
“So what?”
“The real David would have been circumcised, but the sculpture is from the Renaissance and European men weren’t circumcised then, so I guess Michelangelo sculpted what he saw,” added Fleur.
They talked about art for a while, the conversation rambling as it does among good friends. That was something else Ricky loved about his partners, actually how they’d begun their relationship. The easy way they could share about pretty much anything at all. Finally Ricky stood up. “Better keep moving. We’re a long way from the bus stop.”
After a few false starts they found their way out of the maze, Ricky having taken pains to memorize the directions they took. They kept walking on the little path, deciding that it circumnavigated the maze and would bring them back to the main path.
“Oh look, another statue,” said Fleur, jogging ahead to look at it. Then she shrieked, “Oh my God, Ricky, this one looks exactly like you.”
Heath punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Your turn for a photo opportunity, my friend.”
Curious, Ulric lengthened his stride until he stopped in front of the statue. Well, damn if Fleur hadn’t been right. She’d mentioned this statue. It was a huge wolf, his head raised scenting the air. Ricky stepped up on the base, then launched himself up to clamber onto the wolf’s back while Heath snapped a picture of him.
As soon as he was back on the ground, Fleur grabbed both men’s arms. “It’s a sign. We should fuck here.”

Buy Link:

Berengaria Brown

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