From Blush Queen to Erotic Romance Writer

When reading Sara’s great story about her blush meter, I got a good laugh as when I was growing up, I was known as the blush queen. It wouldn’t take me much to get me to a number 10 on her ‘Blush-O-Meter’ scale when I was younger. LOL! I think I’m the only high school senior in my state to be photographed with the then President Gerald Ford who could compete with the sun. It has it good and bad points.

Her story also reminded me of some other times in my life when the ‘Blush-O-Meter’ would have been a fun thing to have. Or NOT! LOL!

The first one was when I was asked to bring my very first completed book to a college gang party. These were the people I had learned to become an adult with and I had a lot of apprehension. These people had embarrassed me and held me when I cried or when I was sick. There were a lot of good and bad memories with these folks.

I told the DH, Gordon, and he convinced me it was all good. But as we got closer to the party, the more trepidation I was feeling.

Once there, the manuscript was being handed around and then I started getting comments like, 'great job' and 'I've never know anyone who completed a whole book before' and then I saw one of my old college boyfriends reading it.

He walked up to me and stated, "You know if you'd did that to me, maybe we'd still be together."

I could feel my face turning warm and I had to be very careful here. If I said the wrong thing, he’d think I still liked him or something. "Maybe I would have if you deserved that type of treatment."

"Gordon must be a very lucky man." He walked away as the DH walked up.

"What's wrong with him?" DH asks.

"He got to the love scene."

"Oh."

"He said you were a lucky guy."

"He did." DH puffs up and says, "I think I'll go talk to the guys."

The college girl friends came up. "What's up with the guys? And how about you…you’re blushing!"

"They're all talking about the love scene.”

“No wonder they’re blushing!"

I looked at them and arched a brow. “Maybe I should remind all of your husbands we all went to college together. After all I didn’t win a knockwurst contest like some of you have.” Every other woman at the party had a face redder than mine as they remembered that particular time in our lives. LOL! Revenge is soooo sweet!

The next big time that I can remember me really, really blushing was when I wrote my first BDSM story about five years ago. It was also the last time that I can remember me having that particular affliction. I had to do a lot of what I considered covert research as I prepared to write this story of a woman's darkest fantasies. Finally, I got the courage to just sit down and get it done. The whole day, I would write a sentence and get up to pace, wondering what I was doing since I knew nothing of that world. Still, I plugged away at it until I eventually got it right. It was the first thing I sold to eXtasy books. I was really surprised.

But half way into the process my husband shocked me by showing up in my office. My face went from zero to RED in the span of less than 10 seconds.

“Something wrong?”

“No, why are you asking?”

He gives me his quirky smile and says, “There are only a few times I’ve ever seen you blush in twenty years.”

I sat still. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s when I caught you doing something you shouldn’t and when you’re thinking about sex.”

I gasped. “What makes you think I’m doing something I shouldn’t? I’m an adult.”

“With an antiquated idea about sex sometimes. If you’re going to really be an erotic romance writer, you have some changing to do.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m sure that practice will help!”

I roll my eyes and tell him nothing is going to happen until I finish this story.

That very day, my whole attitude changed. I wasn’t ashamed of my writing at all. It was just that I was brought up in the Bible belt and as anyone who has grown up there knows, the fear of God and sex can be pounded into one from the moment you walk. And lordy, the brimstone…LOL! There is absolutely nothing wrong with sex. It’s a natural thing and we have such a backward sexual outlook in America that it took some retraining on my part to not let it worry me at all. Now, I barely bat an eye. There's a private me and a writer me.

I advertise my very sexy books all the time and I do write to every heat level as the story dictates. I am passionate about all my books as every author should be. If you’re embarrassed about it, you don’t need to be writing it at all. I write what I love and nothing compromises that position. Sometimes my characters want the full monty and others, they want it very sweet.

Now it’s my DH’s turn to blush every time he drives my car. My license plate says ERWRTER and he’s been asked many times what it means. I'll show you all a picture sometime. He tells them the truth…it means…Erotic Romance Writer. The moment he tells the women, they get a gleam in their eye and say ‘Ah’ while the men just shake their heads and walk away, knowing they wouldn't be caught dead in my car.

Lynn

My Creative Process: Your Glimpse Into a WIP

Okay, I’ll admit when I decided to let you all in on my creative process, my first thought was “What creative process?” See, I considered myself a pantser. You know some one who is always writing by the seat of their pants. Amazing isn’t it, since most of my stuff appears seamless?

See, years ago, I planned everything to the nth detail. And with good reason too. When you do sci-fi or fantasy, those things need to be planned out. It’s one of the reasons that the Crusin’ project is going so slow. When I write those type of stories, I usually write a section and then make sure what I did was correct for the world I had built. And that takes time. There are some stories that I’ve let languish for months just working out the right scenario in my head. If it doesn’t work for me, it certainly won’t work for you.

Now the real reason I can be a pantser today is because I have internalized most of what I used to write down. And somehow, I manage to keep all the facts straight. So basically, I play these little head games with myself whenever I’m at the computer. Sometimes I do write the answers down on a page which I then save to my idea folder or particular story folder. A lot of the times if the story is contemporary I don’t need to do that at all any more.

So just what fuels my creative process you might ask. It can be a lot of things. Some times it people, some times it’s a picture and some times it’s a title. So let’s start at the beginning with a picture this time and I’ll take you through the whole process. And yes, you are seeing the beginnings of what is known as a work-in-progress or a WIP. I always have about ten projects going at any one time because I tend to get bored easily. With all those projects I am never bored.

First, let’s look at this picture that I posted at the top. Intriguing, isn’t it? I love the colors and I just love her stance. And the first time I saw it, I laughed my ass off. Once the humor aspect was done, I started to look at it carefully. Okay…I had this wonderful picture…which brought some very naughty thoughts to mind. Now, just how was I going to use those thoughts?

I stared at it for a few minutes and came up with the title and or tag line “Where’s My Underwear Anyway?” And then I came up with another one “My Underwear is Missing – Do You Have It?” And finally, “Explain to Me Again Why You Have My Underwear?”

I really like, “Where’s My Underwear Anyway?” and decide that’s what I’m going to keep as the title of this work-in-progress. You might ask me how I determine the length of this new venture and I will honestly have to tell you that I won’t know until it’s done. That’s another joy about being a pantser. The stories call me and I answer their call. They tell me how long they are going to be and who the characters are. I follow that train of thinking and work accordingly. Most of the time I have a general word count in mind but it is no way carved in stone.

So, now I have a title and a cover picture. Thank goodness I always put together what I call concept art that goes in with a manuscript. Basically, I put something together and then let my publisher know I want either that cover or something very much like it. Yeah, my creative juices don’t just flow in the writing arena. You’ll see my concept of the cover at the end of this column.

Okay, the next thing I think about is the first line. The first line in any story is the hook. One of the best writing talks I ever went to was called ‘Hook, Line and Sinker’ and it was about the importance of having a great first line. I have given many a talk on the importance of this myself. Once I had the concept down myself, I quickly won a few first line contests put on by the various publishing houses in the late ‘90s. Unfortunately, a great first line can’t be the only thing your story has going for it.

So what am I thinking now in regards to the first line? First, I have to set the scene. We have this woman, who doesn’t know where her underwear is obviously…so who would she be talking to about this? Her girl friends more than likely, right? You betcha! I can see them sitting around a table in a quiet section of the local bar/pub discussing the turn of events. Here’s what I see for that first line and the beginning of this quirky story.

“So…you really don’t know where your underwear might be?”

I stared at my best friend across the table. It sounded so much better when I really wasn’t thinking about it. “Do you have to be so loud?” I put my head in my hands and peered through my fingers at Monica, who’s been my best friend since grade school.

“It’s not my fault that you have the mother of all hangovers. Again. How many times have I told you to stay away from the tequila?” She sighed and sipped on her hot tea. “We’re in Scotland. You’re supposed to be drinking whiskey.”

“I know, I know. It’s to-kill-ya. But please, I gotta figure out where my underwear is.” I sent her my best ‘you have to help me’ look.

“I’ll try but this is just way too funny.” She looked around the almost empty pub. “Just think…this place was the scene of an…underwear napping.” She laughed then winked at me.

“This really isn’t funny, you know.” I lay my head down on my hands. Just thinking about it was making me queasy.

“You’re on vacation, why are you so worried?” She shrugged her shoulders in that typical Monica way.

I looked up at her and groaned. “It’s a working vacation. I’m a lawyer for heaven sakes. I’m supposed to be a model citizen.” I really wished I could do more than just look at her with distain. What I really wanted to do was wring her neck and get that smug expression off her face. “And I’m here with bunch of damn lawyers!” My voice rose and my head immediately began throbbing like a percussion band. I really needed to watch that, I thought as rubbed my forehead.

Monica sat back in her chair and sipped her tea daintily once again. “You really need to get into this Scottish tea. It’ll do wonders for that aching head.”

I grimaced and wished she hadn’t reminded me. My law firm was an international company and when we found out an important conference on international law was being held in Edinburgh, Scotland, we jumped on the chance. Monica and I had toured the continent right out of law school but of all the places we went to, Scotland was our favorite. We had accrued plenty of vacation time and it only took a little time to convince our employers that it would be in their best interest to let us go to this particular conference.

“Would you just quit it?” I mumbled into the table.

“What was that? You don’t remember any of it?”

I looked up with what I hoped was the most ill and forlorn look I could give her. “I wish you’d just stop it.”

She pursed her lips before sitting her tea back on the table. “You know you really shouldn’t be so worried.”

“Why not? Half the lawyers here have already tried to jump my bones and the other half wished they had tried. How do you get away with them not slobbering all over you? And you know how I get when I ‘m drinking tequila.”

She let out a long, low whistle. “Hon, I’m not the all American blonde woman here. And you betcha, I totally understand better than anyone just how you are when you drink that poison. But really, you don’t need to worry as I know who has them.”

This was a shining spot in an otherwise dim day. “You do? Who?”

She smiled at me then with that all knowing bitch smile she uses when she knows she has the superior position. “Yeah, I do.” Monica paused for a minute for effect. If nothing else the woman was dramatic and very effective in the courtroom.. “The stud has them.”

I let my head thump back down on the table. This was worse than I thought.

Not bad for a first try. And yeah, I put this together just for this column. I might tweak it a little but it’s pretty good right out of the chute. I read it to my husband who was standing over me, even he got a kick out of it and that’s pretty hard to do. I’ve decided to do something so totally different with this story that might warrant me passing it off to an agent. We’ll see.

Next time we’ll talk about what I do next in the process. I promise not to leave you hanging too long! Later…and have a great week.

Lynn

Erotic Romance, Writing and the Dixie Chicks

Growing up a kid’s life is usually defined by their parents. Well, mine were very country. I can remember being on my Daddy’s shoulders during some of the greatest singers in the genre at the Grand Ole Opery in Bainbridge, Ohio. Some of those old melodies that I heard then can still waft through my house especially when I write. There’s nothing like those good old country songs to get one in the mood.

Sometimes.

Tonight, I fell asleep in front of the TV as I commonly do when I’m on a writing spree. I’ll work and work then take a break when before I know it, I’m stumbling to bed again because I just couldn’t keep my eyes open. I’ve always been a late night person and while it doesn’t surprise me it is sometimes disconcerting. This time though, instead of dragging myself up, I was riveted to what was on the TV. I had apparently fallen asleep to some documentary that I was watching on historical political events. What I woke up to was something totally different. You’d think I’d have something better to sink my teeth into. LOL!

Still, this one completely captured my attention. While I no longer listen to country music any more unless I’m nostalgic or just really can’t get into the mood, I do listen to singers like Shania Twain, Faith Hill, Shedaisy and the Dixie Chicks. What I was seeing on my big screen was a documentary about three women and something that because known as ‘the incident’ to them and the rest of the world. An incident that everyone by now realize should never have been blown out of proportion because what was said has been found to be relatively true in the years since it has happened.

And while I don’t want this blog to turn into a political forum at all, it made me wonder about my own chosen career and just how it can hinge on the whims of the reading public just like theirs hung on the whims of a listening public. There have been times when I tell people I write erotic romance and something between horror and disbelief cross their face. When that happens I have to grit my teeth sometimes and just smile because when all is said and done, I will write what I write for a variety of reasons.

Now some of you may ask ‘How can you love smut?’ to which I would reply ‘How can I not?’ I mean everyone has a different perception of what porn is, what smut is and what romance is. Mine just happens to be a little bit broader than most. But here’s the key to the whole thing and it something most of you don’t know. I write just as much non-erotic stuff as I do the erotic venture. Yup, you heard me right. Again, I can hear you say ‘Huh? What are you talking about?’

What, indeed. The bottom line is that I write what I love at that moment. Some days it’s just as hard for me to get into a sex scene as it is the writer who has never written one. I truly understand that as I write, I am not the one in control but my characters are. If they don’t want to have sex, they won’t. If they want to shoot someone, they will. And if they need to defend themselves against the next wave of alien bloodsuckers, they will do it superbly.

I write what is in my heart at the very moment I put the words onto the page and not a second before I’m supposed to. I’m one of the few writers who won’t write to a market because it’s popular nor will I be swayed against finishing something that isn’t the latest trend or fashion. I need to be passionate about what I write and if I can’t be, the piece may never get started or even finished for that matter.

At a talk I gave this past week, one of the topics I spoke to was career. I’ve been around a long time in the romance field and I have always written the ‘hot’ stuff long before it was in vogue. I can remember the very first time that Sandra brown put in the words ‘tongue f**k’ and that book hit the best seller list. And the very first BDSM book I ever read was in the late ‘80s or early ‘90s by a science fiction author named Sharon Green and the book was ‘The Mind Guest’ another one who made it to the NY Times bestseller list. The moment I finished the book I told my husband that someday I would write a book just like it. And I did in my own way.

I used to tell people to write what they know until I was corrected by a bestselling author who told me to write what I could imagine. I’ll take it one step even further and say one should write what they know along with what they can imagine. Only then will you get the full effect and range of your writing.

I’ll end this by saying thank you to the Dixie Chicks for giving me this blog idea. I was always on their side about ‘the incident. They’re good at what they do and they won’t comprise who they are to get it done their way.

Just like me. I will always write what I love no matter what genre.

Later…

Lynn