I love two thing, three if I include my son, but the other two are tied for second place and that’s reading and writing. The reading I’ve always loved, the writing is new – both are an obsession for me (unfortunately for my son). There was a time I read anything: Toni Morrison, Ernest Gaines, Zora Neale Hurston, Maya Angelou, Harper Lee, Shakespeare and endless…countless, books that featured a bare-chested, flowing hair, Fabio and big busted women. This was what was laying around my house. Now…I’m all paranormal romance novels and as an acquaintance and fellow avid reader put it: I read smut.
But all things serves the beam and the beam started with Twilight, which lead to a ton of self publish authors who wrote young adult paranormal romances, which led to Fifty Shades of Grey, which led to my recent genre of choice.
I was like so many others that were obsessed with the sparkly vampires and held off on reading Fifty Shades for an entire year while the rest of the world got hooked on “mommy porn,” but I was still looking for that paranormal twist, because, lets face it, not matter how alpha-male Christian Grey is, he couldn’t take on werewolves, demons, vampires, angels- this list goes on and on. So I stumbled across an author, J.R. Ward. The book was Dark Lover and I thought it was okay- just okay. But then I read the second, followed by the third, and before I knew it, I’d stayed up 42 hours straight. That’s right, almost two days of none stop reading, I was finished with what she’d written of the series within the week, I think 8 books, and immediately started over again. By the time I was finished I was jonesing for another story, but money was tight, so I scoured Barnes and Noble website looking for a free download and found a book about some werewolves. The Blackdagger Brotherhood is a group of vampires but hey, beggars can’t be choosers, and so I downloaded my free book and started reading.
The first chapter was BAD, and not like Fifty Shades bad, but BAD as in challenged. I told my husband after the first chapter of Fifty that I thought a talented third grader had written it, but I pushed on and it became one of my favorite reads (I’ve read it several times). The werewolf story was so bad I finished, but the others in the series, which were also free, I couldn’t bring myself to put myself through that kind of torture. I mean, I’d already lost my job, I was depressed enough. But it did inspire me to try my hand a writing a werewolf story.
I was working pretty much around the clock on the Lovers Series and in the middle of writing books two and three, or maybe three and four, I started with my paranormal book. Like almost every book I write, I had now idea what the story would be about. I had no beginning, middle or end. I just knew I wanted to give it a whirl. So I sat down at my computer and looked at the blank page until I got the first sentence and before long I had a decent word count, 80 thousand words or so. When I finished I couldn’t make myself do the meager editing that I do with my books, so I moved on to other things. About two or three weeks ago, I decided to write a part two to the werewolf story because in my research about werewolves I discovered that some country, or person, referred to werewolves as an evening wolf. Well, isn’t that a great title for a book? With only a title, I sat down and started writing, and behold, a novel was born. Then I started on the third in the series but I hadn’t even edited or published the first. Gosh, I write too much. Anywhoo, I stopped writing and went back to where it all began, added about 20 thousand words, took out a couple of hundred, tweaked and fine-tuned, made book covers for both, part one and two, and today I uploaded the first story on Smashwords.
Crazy, I know.
Last year 25 thousand people downloaded my books. I’m not sure if all 25 thousand read my book, but I’m hopeful that at least half did. I have a few fans that email me and the reviews are mostly good if you don’t look at the ones about grammatical errors. I’ll apologize until I get it right or can afford an editor, until then it’s just me and boy, I think my writing is just fine. Not sure what that says about me, but there it is. Even so, the few ratings and emails are always such a treat for me because never in a million years would I have ever guessed that one day people would read something I wrote, hell, I wouldn’t have guessed I would write, and I never would have if I hadn’t lost my job, so thanks asshole who fired me. I don’t make much money from my books but whenever I receive a check all I can think about is Stephen King writing that if you write something, get paid money , and pay a bill with said money than you are…an author (couldn’t help mentioning him, I’m a HUGE fan).
So here’s to 2014, last year I wrote eight books. This year I’m shooting for less because I will either be on a book tour of my recently discovered best-selling novel, or I would have found some employment that will keep food on the table and a house over my head. Either one works.
As always, to those who read my books–THANK YOU–I only wish to write something worthy of your time.