The Bad Girlz Write blog will be off this week to celebrate the holiday.
We wish all of you a happy and safe Thanksgiving!!! See you next Tuesday!
The Bad Girlz Write blog will be off this week to celebrate the holiday.
We wish all of you a happy and safe Thanksgiving!!! See you next Tuesday!
You do not want to know how long I pondered the possessive of ‘Girlz’.
Anyway, since the holiday season is sneaking up on us like the ruthless assassin she is, the Bad Girlz would like to share with you our wish lists. Some will be serious, some fun, some personalized, and some general. My list is a mix of all of the above, but I swear, I am very serious about each item. 😀
1. More hours in the day. Ask any writer, and I bet they all want more time. I’m not sure how to accomplish this, but it’d be a lovely gift. For me, I’d like a couple of extra hours in the morning to write, one more hour in the afternoon to meet a friend for coffee or drinks after work, another hour in the evening to relax with the family, read or watch something in my Netflix queue, and two more hours to sleep every night. Someone defy the laws of nature and structure of time and make this happen.
2. A year supply of coffee drinks from Port City Java. This is the coffee shop across Main Street from my office building. They have this thing called the Mocha Freeze. I get it with soy milk, no whip, and it tastes like dark chocolate frozen coffee orgasmic dreamsicle in a cup. Dang thing is like $5 though, so I need someone to buy them for me, year-round. k?
3. 52 bottles of Rex Goliath Pinot Noir. I only drink it on weekends, so 52 ought to do me for the year. I recently discovered their Noir and Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
As one of the other Bad Girlz pointed out, “There’s a giant cock on the label.” There is! It also says, “Lush & Velvety,” but we decided we wouldn’t go there. (We totally went there.)
4. Journals and notebooks that will fit in a purse. I’m a note taker, plot jotter, list maker. Small notebooks are my security blanket and I know I’m not alone. Without fail, I’ll have a bit of awesome dialogue pop up or a plot epiphany hit me in the waiting room of the allergy shot clinic. I could type it into my phone, but I like rocking the old school notebook. There’s something about a pen and paper when it comes to creative notes.
5. Comfy clothes. I spend my Monday – Friday in dress pants and blouses, occasionally a skirt, rarely a suit jacket. So, when it comes to relaxing weekends and my time off, I tend to be uber casual. Unless I have somewhere fabulous to be, my attire suspiciously resembles pajamas. Most writer gear tends to be this casual all the time. Yoga pants = the writer uniform. I also love leggings and hoodies in the winter; big hoodies that I can ball up into like hedgehog. I think these say McGovy, don’t you?
6. I am still asking for, and will always request, a TELEPORTER. Why do I not have one of these yet??? If no one is going to give me superhero BAMF-ing ability, a la Nightcrawler, then I’m going to need one of these, stat. (Kirk and Spock are optional, but they would be appreciated and cared for.)
Teleporter. I mean it! I could go to and from conferences, with no air travel. Teleport on over to Ireland and Australia to visit family and friends, pop up to have coffee with Bad Girlz, appear at the movie theatre near Jeanette’s house because it’s way unfair that we don’t get to go to Marvel premiers together and then flail for hours (see: days) after. All of these very important uses, and it could probably bring about world peace as well.
7. Last, but not least on my list, I’d like these two in my stocking. 😀
What do you think of my list? Shall I put you down for any of the above? 🙂
I won’t blog again until next year, so to all our readers out there and bad girlz everywhere, have a wonderful holiday season and fabulous new year!
Perfect for this hectic time of year, Tiny Treats is an anthology of micro-stories, all with different holiday themes. The best part of all is it’s free!
25 different authors offer tales in perfect bite sized pieces. Several of our own Bad Girlz contributed: Jeanette Grey, Sally Kilpatrick, Heather McGovern, Tanya Michaels, and Trish Milburn, with Trish Milburn editing and organizing.
Pick up a free copy today!
It’s not Monday, but any day is a good day for Gandy candy!
Remember back when I did a post of British hotties, and mentioned I had a type? Model David Gandy is all of those types. Handsome and pretty, rugged yet smooth, dark hair, prominent nose, HELLA intense eyes, great build and a sexy accent – Gandy is UNF personified. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be one of the most, if not THE most, sought after male models in the industry. But rather than belabor the point, I’m going to let the pictures speak for themselves…along with some choice commentary.
Let’s talk about those cheekbones. Let’s talk about that hair, and the little crinkle between his eyebrows. Let’s talk about THOSE EYES!
But the number one reason I love David Gandy – and I’m just keeping it real here – is because he was the hero I envisioned when I wrote one of my first, mediocre-ly executed, stories. All that complexity and intensity. What?! Sign me up yesterday.
He also bears more than a passing resemblance (IMO) to the vampire hero, Vishous. Plenty of fangirls would argue with me, but this is my post, I can do what I want.
That’s it for today’s issue of Man Candy. I hope you all have a wonderful week, and remember: David Gandy can rock a white suit. All arguments are null and void.
Last blogging cycle each of the Bad Girlz detailed something they’d wished they’d known at the outset of this crazy journey toward publication. My last post was on The Big Hook. Well, my ignorance couldn’t be contained in one post. In fact, I might be blogging on things I’ve learned for the foreseeable future.
Point of View has been on my mind lately because I’ve signed up to judge a few RWA chapter contests. I got so much out of contests—I don’t mean finaling or winning—I’m talking about the critiques I got from other authors—oftentimes published. The feedback made me a better writer, and I hope I can do the same for someone else.
In that vein, I want to share the biggest issue in the entries I’ve judged thus far. At least 80% have had problems with POV. And, to be clear, this was my biggest issue when I started entering contests, so I’m coming from a place of understanding and commiseration.
Those awesome historical romances of the 80’s and 90’s like Kathleen Woodiwiss’ A Rose in Winter or Julie Garwood’s The Bride? Yeah, people don’t write like that anymore. Not the content, which is awesome by the way, but the STYLE. It’s called Head Hopping. In other words, in more modern books, the author will spend an entire scene or half a scene in ONE character’s head and then switch. It’s called Deep POV. Had I heard of either when I started writing? Nope. I wrote THREE books (90k+ words each!) head hopping like a jackrabbit on crack.
But staying in your chosen character’s head is only once aspect of mastering Deep POV. The other aspect is…becoming the character. That’s the only way I know how to put it. You should become your hero, heroine, or villain, and describe everything as it filters through your character’s senses.
For example: She heard the bell ring.
Better: The bell rang.
In the first, you are removing the reader from the immediacy of the moment. In the second, the reader is experiencing the bell ringing right along with the heroine.
For example: He saw the man creep out from behind the bush.
Better: The man crept out from behind the bush.
For example: Every man’s head in the room turned to watch the woman slink around the tables. Every man, but Jack, who stared at a jagged scar in the wood of the bar and savored his whiskey.
Jack is looking at the bar, not the approaching woman. This is a no-no, unless you’re going for an omniscient POV, which I’ve never attempted and is difficult to pull off convincingly.
An example from one of my WIPs. Fire burned in her gut. As if nature itself felt her fury, a salty breeze lifted from the sea and plucked her auburn hair like tendrils of flame around her face.
I love that passage, but I knew when I wrote it that it was a POV slip. I kept it anyway until my CP (ahem…Fran) told me I couldn’t use it. Wah! Do you see that in my heroine’s POV, she can’t describe her hair as ‘tendrils of flame’? Delete, delete, delete…
For example: He thought he might be falling in love.
Better: He might be falling love or He was falling in love.
For example: He felt angry.
Better: His hands curled into fists, and he shuffled into a fighter’s stance
Instead of stating the feeling, like the first example, push yourself to find a more interesting way to depict the emotion. Using ‘felt’ does work beautifully sometimes, but really examine every single time you choose to use it and determine if you can make a stronger statement.
All examples, except the one from my WIP, were made up for this post (so don’t judge:) RWA University offers courses and bunches of books have been written on the subject of POV.
What have been some of your issues with POV?
Readers, I am in love! Draft love, that is! After a few patches rougher than nails filed with industrial sandpaper and more false starts than I can count, I’m finally in the sweet spot again. I’m really into my story, and am looking forward to any time I can get to spend with it. Which is a good thing, since I really need to get this one done! My current series revolves around the lives and loves of performing mermaids in a tiny Florida town in the 1950s.
Ever since I started writing, I’ve made it a point not to write what I know, exactly, but to write what I love: the settings, the characters, the themes. I want to immerse myself in the things I love, miss, or wish I could experience. My series has all of that and then some–and I’d like to share some of it with you. So, without further ado, I give you…
My Favorite Things About Emerald Springs
1. Ogling midcentury hotties
3. Retro bathing suits!
4. Daytona Beach motels…. before they were flea pits.
5. Q: What’s more cheerful than this?
6. A: This.
I hope you liked the quick peek at my story world–I know I did! What do you most enjoy musing about, and how often do these things end up in your stories? Comment, and let me know….or better yet, post some pics!
I spent the day flitting from Twitter to Facebook to Instagram back to Twitter again, all the while smiling and grinning like a fool. It was an awesome book birthday (except for when I went into Barnes and Noble too early and they didn’t have my book out. Good news: I saw it in two others by the end of the night). And today I’m celebrating by getting a writing inspired tattoo (my second in less than two weeks!). I can’t have cupcakes because I’m off sugar, so maybe you could have one for me instead. 😉
“The slow build of Winter and Cade’s relationship is satisfying and real. Walsh’s debut raises the bar for NA books and will leave readers hungry for more.” ~Booklist starred review
Aspiring chef Cade Maxwell is immediately, viscerally attracted to Winter Jacobson. But it’s not her mouth-watering curves he’s drawn to—it’s the strange emptiness in her eyes. When Cade saves her from a drunken customer with grabby-hands, he’s shocked at her response…
Winter doesn’t need Cade’s help. After a lifetime of getting by on her own, she’s happy to rely on herself. She’s exactly seventy-six days away from graduating college, and if she can hold it together that long, she’ll finally be able to rise above the crappy hand she was dealt.
But now, every time she turns around Cade is there, ready to push her, smile at her, distract her from her plans. Winter knows she can’t afford to open up—especially to a man she’s terrified to actually want…
And here’s a little excerpt for your reading pleasure…
I bend my knees so we’re eye level and tug on her hand until she meets my gaze. “I don’t know what we could have. It might be nothing. But I’ll be honest . . . I haven’t felt like this in a long time, and that’s enough for me to know I want to see where it goes. Can’t we just see where it goes?”
With a deep sigh, she says, “I’m not right for you, Cade.”
“How about you worry about if I’m right for you. Let me decide the other.”
And then before she can stop me, before she can utter another word of opposition, I slide my hand up her arm, over her shoulder, until it’s wrapped around her neck. With my other hand, I swipe a piece of hair back with my fingers, and then lean in, brushing my lips against hers. After only a moment, I pull back just enough for her to be able to tell me to stop. When nothing comes, I close the distance between us once again, taking her bottom lip in between mine. I brush my tongue against it, coaxing her mouth open, and she breathes this sexy little gasp as I slip inside. She tastes like cookies and wine, and I want to fucking devour her.
She grips my shirt with both hands, clutching me to her, and I stop holding back and press every inch of my body against hers, groaning as my cock presses fully against her. The moment a whimper comes from her, I know she feels it. And I can’t muster up any embarrassment, because I want her to feel it. Even with all her brass balls and fuck-everything attitude, something tells me she needs reassurance, so I give it to her. In every stroke of my tongue against hers, every brush of my thumb along her jaw, I show her how much I want her.
When her chest is heaving, her lips parted and swollen and so fucking hot, I trail kisses down her neck, seeking out every inch of skin that’s uncovered. Her head thumps back against the wall, one of her hands gone from gripping fistfuls of my shirt. Instead, she’s holding my head to her, and I don’t want to stop. I want to kiss and lick every inch of her, slip my hands under the material of her sweater, unbutton her jeans, and not stop until I feel her soft wetness against my fingertips.
But the knowledge that she’ll regret it if I don’t stop forces me to slow down.
I pull back, loosening my grip on her and putting an inch of space between us. I kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, and then her ear. Against it, I whisper, “Don’t say no.”
There’s a beat of silence. Two. Three. And then she says the sweetest word I’ve ever heard.
To celebrate the release, I’m giving away an exclusive paperback copy of All I’m Asking For, the anthology I was in which includes my holiday novella, Season of Second Chances, plus two other sweet and sexy holiday stories! These novellas are normally e-book only. Open to US only. Must be 18+ because of all the unspeakable things that happen in the book.
This, however, is a blog dedicated to writing and reading. So what does voting have to do with either?
I’d venture to say, well…EVERYTHING.
With the freedoms granted to me by the men and women serving to maintain the democracy and government my country is based upon, I am able to write and publish whatever I wish without fear. In a world where so many are fighting to make their voices heard, where minorities flee because the majority opposes their opinions, and where some are frightened to speak the truth for fear of retribution, I take pride in the fact that I am able to write whatever I like without concern that my choices may bring me punishment, or worse, death.
I also have the ability, the choice, the freedom, yes, to write as an occupation, to pursue my dream in an economy that supports me. Because of the results of election day, I am able to live and thrive in a country where many are privileged to have disposable income–some extra cash to spend on recreational activities like reading.
The saying goes that reading imparts the reader with knowledge. Like the knowledge it takes to make educated choices to empower leaders who then make a difference in our local and national governments. There are places in our world today where many are silenced. Where many people, while strong in their numbers and in their knowledge, are denied the freedom to vote.
I’m not intending this post to be an educational treatise on politics or history, or even on national pride, though I am exceptionally proud to be a citizen of the United States. This post is intended to reflect the importance of today’s significance. So many of us toss away the opportunity to vote in lieu of what we may consider more important–our writing time, our work time, our lunch time– and in doing so, neglect to cast a simple ballot that enables you to be free to make that choice. You don’t have to vote.
You don’t have to write or read, either. You have the choice. And choices are very powerful things.
I am eternally thankful to the men and women who fight and who have fought to maintain my freedom to make those choices, and to the leaders who help keep the rights I too often take for granted. I am forever grateful to those who came before me, who believed that all men and women were created equal, and to those who also believed in giving others the ability to do as they wish.
I honor them by voting–and writing the best books that I know how to write.