Here’s the question, I asked last month – Should writers in the same genre review each other? I got some responses so check back to get other writer’s opinions. Here’s mine:
I read quite a bit. Not as much as I did before I started writing, but still a lot. There are books I don’t like. There are some I love. There are some I think are okay.
Will I post these up on Amazon or Goodreads or this blog? If I’m asked to I will. Or if I just love them and have to tell somebody, then sure. What if I hated it? Nope. I’ll keep that to myself.
Why? Because I know how difficult the work was to create in the first place. I know there was time away from families and sleepless nights involved in putting that story out there and I know how negative reviews sting.
It’s also self-preservation for my writing dreams. I want to be a part of the small community of interracial romance writers and a supporter of the genre. I don’t want to be one of it’s detractors. There are enough of those without me.
My two cents – Kristen Strassel will give hers this weekend.
Why in the Hell is that mentioned on a romance author’s blog?
- I don’t have the numbers on this so I’m guessing when I say that the majority of readers of the romance genre are women.
- However, according to the CDC, 6.1 million women in the US have trouble getting pregnant or staying pregnant.
Somewhere these two circles must intersect.
Raises hand from the back of the room.
At sixteen, I was told that I couldn’t carry a child to term without medical intervention.
But you have three kids, you’re saying to yourself!
And each time that I see a new OB/GYN, he or she is as surprised as you are that that I have given birth to three live children in my forty-two years. You see, hubby and I couldn’t afford the intervention. We just got lucky.
The point is I read romances.
Who also reads romances is a dear friend who after years of pills and injections, traveled to China to pick up her daughter. The numbers on her ovulation dice never beat the house.
Fast forward thirteen years and is her love for a mouthy teenager any less than the love I have for mine? Hell, no! We both are commiserating souls about our relationship with these once frilly dress wearing babes turned hormonal fanged creatures overnight.
While I thank you, gentle reader reviewers of my labor of love, it’s okay to say that the central conflict of The Beginning of Forever is the infertility of the heroine.
Amber has come to terms with this. And she’s really, really okay with it. She loves her daughter more than anything.
Add Amber and Kevin’s story to your TBR list and tell me if I’m right or wrong in the path I chose for the ending:
Last year, I started Hero Worship Week on the Vallory V blog for all those yummy book boyfriends and I’m continuing the tradition. I hope you’ll join me and the rest of the authors!
- 09/08/2013 – Vallory Vance
- 09/09/2013 – Kassanna
- 09/10/2013 – Sydney Jamesson
- 09/11/2013 – Our Real Life Heroine: Corinthia
- 09/12/2013 – Alexandra Anthony
- 09/13/2013 – Laurel Cremant
- 09/14/2013 – A Little Lagniappe
I’ve been kinda of timid about writing lately. Too much self-comparison between me and my favorite writers. It’s like being in high school all over again. You aren’t one of the cool kids because that’s just not your style, but there is that part of yourself that hasn’t accepted that that’s cool too!
So I voiced my concerns to my marketing manager, my daughter. Her suggestion was that I should cover her own success as a writer on the blog just to keep my fingers nimble. She is, after all, four chapters away from completing her first novella currently at 52, 683 words. (Yes, you read that right.)
I must admit, I envy her word count!
I also envy her unbridled moxy. She is fearless in her writing. It is her own and the rest of the world be damned. She doesn’t think if this is good enough or strong enough or if she used the right word or even if the word exists in the English language.
This is the hurdle I face each night in my writing. I’m editing and thinking when I’m supposed to be fearless and reckless. At the moment my characters start to speak, I silence them with my own questions – Have I given enough reason for you to say that? Is there enough of a back story? Is there too much back story? Is my plot strong enough?
Then I spiral down to not writing at all, but I’ve been given a new inspiration – a teen with maroon colored hair and a megawatt flat iron to show me the way. She’s my writing hero.
Fearless writing, here I come!
Researchers have found, according to a NPR report on a random day, that Americans are most unhappy on Tuesdays. The happy effect from the previous weekend has passed and the upcoming weekend seems far away.
So from the Vallory V blog, I add artistic validity to this sad day:
P.S. This song is best minutes before a break-up.
My favorite line:
Too rich or too poor, she’s wanting me less and I’m wanting her more
The bitter taste is cumbersome
I’m trying all sorts of things to get the word out about my work:
Goodreads giveaway of five print copies (available in the US, GB and CA)
Upcoming Blog Hops
Guest posts hosted by some wonderful bloggers
Facebook Event – May 11, 2013 – I’ll be giving away gift bags and print copies of books. (If you don’t have your invite, please let me know I’ll send you one along!)
And I posted a trailer to YouTube!
Let me know what you think.
Really, let me know before I start promoting this thing and find out it sucks!
I love weddings – the ceremony, the dress, the reception! The planning is a pain in the butt, however the results can be magical.
But before there is a wedding, there is the proposal. Typically this is the guy’s domain. And honestly I don’t know how they come up with their ideas. Do they consult other guys over a beer or while watching a football game? (I’ll have to research that.)
Anyway, whomever consulted with my husband wasn’t very good.
We were in our tiny living room, smushed together on our tiny sofa drinking iced coffee. We were discussing our upcoming vacation at a resort on the Gulf Coast and hubby-to-be says – And we could get married before we leave. He then literally jams a ring down on my finger. Plastic coffee cups are teetering all over the place.
Who says yes to that? Me. The only thing that saved him was the fact that his voice was trembling and his face had paled as he waited for me to say something. So I said yes and nearly twenty years later, I don’t regret my answer. Even if it was the most unromantic proposal ever!
After my writing for the year is done, maybe I’ll start on an e-guide to proposals so that no one has else has spilled ice coffee as a proposal memory.