Amarinda Jones

End of the world scenario....

2012-01-29T08:28:00.007+10:00

So I spotted this off the side of the road, behind bushes, as I was walking along. One ponders what the red light means. And, if no one can see if it’s on or off, unless they’re a sticky beak like me, what happens when the light is on and no one phones it in? Is it the end of the world?

Wandering off here today…

2012-01-28T04:00:00.000+10:00

…Yungaburra - http://www.yungaburra.com/ - first stop the markets to buy fruit/veg, more than likely plants, books and assorted crap that I cannot live without. Then I’m hitting the trail to look at lakes, craters and waterfalls followed by some wildlife spotting and a stay in a local B & B. Life? Get out there amongst it I say.

Toughening up…

2012-01-26T18:42:00.003+10:00

I got an email from a friend that confused the hell out of me and frankly wounded me. Being misunderstood does that to you. Especially by friends. Some things just hit you from out of left field and it makes you realize how very little people know or understand you. Finding that out is a good thing. It toughens you up that little bit more. I need that every so often. I move on. Stronger, more wary but infinitely okay with who I am as a person.

‘Stralia Day…

2012-01-26T05:00:00.000+10:00

So, on January 26th 1788 this Pommy (English) bloke called Captain Arthur Phillip landed in Sydney with a mob of convicts and started the first known white settlement with a bunch of rule breakers and ne’re do-wells. The Jones family had a couple of ne’re do-wells of their own turn up in chains several years after that and I thank the cosmos that my ancestors had enough sense to either nick things and get transported or they made the decision to leave Scotland for a better life in a new country.

Australia day is about celebrating who we are. Aussies are unique, smart, charming and good looking. There’s nothing we can’t do. And the country? The best in the world. Ask us – we’ll confirm that.

Happy Australia Day from Cairns!

Cop out...

2012-01-25T05:53:00.004+10:00

When I read stuff where people blame the government for kids growing up useless and unable to cope with failure and life in general, I think bollocks. Yep, governments are a collective of stupidly, anal people who enjoy dumb arsed antiquated rules. I had a job with the government once. I didn’t last. I have issues with dumb arsed antiquated rules. However, blindly using Big Brother as a scapegoat for personal failure? For kids growing up useless and unable to cope with life? Get real.

When I look at women like my mother who married poor, whose kids wore second hand clothes from the Op shop (goodwill) and those kids accepted that as a fact of life without bitching about it, when my mother had no money for medical bills or food and often went without both for her kids, when she was injured but had to cope with three kids when her Army husband was away on exercises, when her youngest son was bipolar and self destructive – did she blame the government for bi-polar, injury, lack of money or loneliness? No. She soldiered on and made her kids do the same. She didn’t look for handouts. She didn’t over-indulge, spoil her kids or give them false illusions to compensate for life not being perfect. When we failed – we failed and we were taught to get up and on with it.

In my less than humble opinion, there are two types of people – those who will forge on no matter the cost or conquest because they will survive come what may. Then there are the ones who blame everyone but themselves because life is 'unfair.' Sure, blame the government for your own personal inadequacies if you don’t have the guts to take responsibility.

Couple of thoughts...

2012-01-24T05:15:00.005+10:00

- I read this job advert this morning. This phrase in the middle of a sentence made me smile ‘we have a no 1 in teamwork concept’. Yes. Exactly. I think that sums up nicely how workplaces are going. ‘It’s not me…it’s you…blame them…I adhere to the no one in teamwork policy.’

- I have been getting an email from a romance reader’s loop advising e-book authors over and over again what the rules are and they’re only to post excerpts or whatever once. That means one time only. Uno. Stick one finger in the air. That's how much we want to read your excerpt. Why do authors have to be reminded of this continuously? Possibly because e-book authors think everyone on the planet wants to read their story. No. No they don’t – hence the rule sweetie.

- Frankly, I don’t want a Mitt or a Newt or an Obama running the US. Get someone with a real name and let’s get serious about saving the world.

- “Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.” ~Oscar Wilde....exactly. I have experience to burn, baby.

Men and sex...

2012-01-23T05:23:00.003+10:00

I noticed a few e-books companies are branching out with lines that are targeting erotic books towards hetrosexual men. Frankly, I don’t see how they’re going to be successful especially when the majority of them seem to be written by women. Yes, I expect someone is stamping her dainty spiked heel – author speak for bare foot with chipped toenail polish – saying they are selling a million of them – author exaggeration for sales that are a couple of hundred. But a sale is a sale huh?

My thoughts on men. They’re visual creatures. Hence the advent of the archaic wolf whistle, porn magazines, porntube, strip clubs and that moment when you’re walking with a man and you know his dick has led his eyes off in another direction to lust after some long legged busty woman instead of listening to some riveting tale you’re telling him. That’s ok. I get that. I understand men lust after the impossible. It’s like when women buy that dress that is the next size down knowing that they will…probably…maybe…get into it…one skinny day…oh who are we kidding…no, I’m not taking it back yet.

I just don’t see men reading erotica. Women – yes – and I suspect many women will read another woman’s version on what they think a man will read to get his rocks off to get them excited into thinking that’s what a man wants. Crude and simplistic? Yes, but then romance e-book world has become like that. We equate an orgasm to love it seems. There’s nothing wrong with that as long as we’re honest enough to call it sex and not romance.

I would like to know how many men are reading the ‘men’s lines’ that the e-pubs are coming up with – and enjoying them?

Manhunt…

2012-01-22T06:43:00.003+10:00

‘Been thinking about romance, as writers do, and plots and how to get him and her together and how much sex should be involved and I stopped and thought about my own life and how I have no romance whatsoever in my life at the moment and how I have no ‘him’ and I really need to rectify that. So, my plan is this year, I will stop running around plotting world domination, working on the pursuit of money and I will get me a ‘him.’ I’m a very single minded person. Write a book? Done. Set up a publishing company? Done. Quit my job and move my entire life to the other end of Australia where I know no one and nothing is familiar? Done. I expect finding a man can’t be any harder. Do I think it’s too late to find romance? No. If you really want something you will get it. It’s all about determination.

I’m putting it out there. I’m on a manhunt.

Walking...

2012-01-21T07:31:00.004+10:00

…through the rainforest this morning, looking up at the old, old trees and the sheer mass of the 360 degree mountains around me and once more I wondered how piddly little human beings, with all our supposed power and intellect, manage to stuff up things as we do, yet the rainforest goes on forever.

Depravity…

2012-01-19T18:19:00.005+10:00

Adj. 1. depraved - deviating from what is considered moral or right or proper or good;

So a newbie writer asked me what a publisher meant when they listed ‘no depraved acts’ in their submission guidelines. My learned response was ‘I dunno.’ If I had to take a guess I would say the publisher – and not just that one – says that to make them look less like they are accepting porn even if they know they are. You know, it’s like don’t run with scissors but we could if we wanted to and no rule is going to stop us.

What is depraved in the book writing-romance business where the most popular e-books out there are about one woman having sex with 5 men who become werewolves at night? Is that depraved? Multiple partners? Is having sex with step-sisters/brothers/parents depraved? Is shoving ones fist inside a woman’s vagina depraved? Is tying up a woman to break her will into submitting to whatever her punisher wants depraved? Is mock rape as titillation depraved? They’re all been written about and published right now. I would suggest depravity abounds.

“We will accept no stories depicting acts of depravity”…oh bullshit. Depravity sells. Publishers know it. My advice? If you’ve written something considered depraved submit it anyway. I bet the publisher takes it.

Riiight....

2012-01-18T18:59:00.004+10:00

Cairns is a interesting place when it comes to the roads. No, they’re in good condition. Yes, it’s easy to get around. What’s the problem then? I haven’t been here long enough to drive like a local. To do that you must –

- never ever indicate if you want to change lanes. Just do it.
- if it’s a four lane street and you don’t want to drive in any of those lanes then hell yeah use the bike lane and make it your own or cross over the cement traffic island if you can’t be bothered waiting.
- pull out of all a sudden. No really, I just love surprises.
- drive really, really, really slow.

And it’s not just the drivers – it’s the pedestrians. There is a severe problem with jay-walking in Cairns. It’s a bloody laid back town. Add a bunch of stoned or dumb arsed backpackers who are invincible and you have a game of dodgems. A lot of people get run down exercising their democratic right to wander aimlessly across the road like Brown’s cows.

But the best one? That was today. I’m driving along and I pass a man on a bicycle. He’s holding a chainsaw in one hand on his shoulder and the other hand is gripping a lawn edger and one handlebar. Riiight. I rang a friend and said what I saw. He wasn’t surprised. Well hell, it’s Cairns after all. Any more laidback they’d be comatose.

Lovely man clone...

2012-01-17T19:14:00.003+10:00

I told a male friend today that he was a lovely man and he should be cloned and handed out to each woman. I see nothing wrong with that. We all need to feel good.

Yes, I’m responsible for the naked…

2012-01-16T19:15:00.004+10:00

…woman on Isobel Goddard’s Duct Tape and Feathers. It’s a Scarlet Harlot story. It’s full of sex and sin and all those good things. Oh, and she’s naked. Well, you can see that. As did others and it caused a problem. Yes, I take full responsibility and I have apologised to the good people at All Romance E-books for the naked cover. Why did I do it? Well, it was late at night, I was tired and I was setting up the story to be published. On the book sites, as you put in the necessary info to publish, you tick and flick boxes – how hot, how naked, is it active, what files etc. I ticked the wrong box when came to nudity. The story went live and all her bits were on display. Nudity has to be approved. She wasn’t approved. So, the story got suspended along with the account. Bugger. Yes I should have paid attention. Yes, I’m a bad girl. Good friend Isobel called me a ‘plonker.’ She’s a Pom (English). Plonker is like nonghead. So yeah, I’ve had to do some apologising today but mistakes happen and I take responsibility. We’ll see what happens with the account.

In the interim, Duct Tape and Feathers can be bought here – http://www.bookstrand.com/duct-tape-and-feathers

All three of Isobel’s stories - Forbidden Relations - can be bought here –

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B006XZ2CQQ

As for nudity – tick the right box...

Years ago….

2012-01-15T07:48:00.010+10:00

…there were these three writers who set up this Yahoo group so they could chat/bitch amongst themselves about writing, other writers, publishers etc. Nothing unusual there except they forgot to lock their posts and they went viral and the whole romance e-book community read a lot of stuff they weren’t meant to. Oh dear. Anyway, one of their posts I read had one of them saying something along the lines of she was off to ‘write porn.’ Yes. An e-book romance writer saying that. Shock. Horror. Ho hum. I remember that post, along with the many others I have filed away, because the writer chick who wrote it was at least honest. The more stories that get subbed to Scarlet Harlot Publishing the more I realize e-book land is equating porn for romance, in ever increasing amounts, and I’m not seeing that same parallel with established print book market. It asks the question - are e-book writers money hungry I-do-anything-for-a-buck writers? Yes. Are they pandering to women who are tired of ‘normal’ sex? I believe so. Are e-books, as one person pointed out to me, ‘corrupting the moral fabric of society’? My answer to that is for corruption to work, people must be open to temptation and you cannot corrupt without need or greed.

My point? As much as I have been thinking about the stuff that gets sent to me – and no, Harlot is not technically open for submissions because I barely have time to spit - I find I am led by business sense and the lure of $$ when it comes to publishing. Yes, I will and have published e-book porn/romance and make no apologies for it.

E-book land - Welcome to temptation.

If you don’t ask you don’t get...

2012-01-14T05:00:00.000+10:00

Last Friday, when I went to the reef for snorkelling, I had to park, Verity, my car, in the city council parking lot. You have to put money into a ticket machine and because I was going to be there all day, it was going to be a high parking fee as opposed to a humungous parking fine. So I shoved money into one ticket machine expecting a ticket to spit out. It jammed and refused to give me back my money. I may have sworn a lot. I went to the next machine. Same thing – jamming, swearing and generally pissed-offedness. Like Goldilocks I went to the last machine and finally it worked and I got a ticket.

Now, the Jones family rarely ever shut up if there is something wrong so I emailed the Cairns City Council and explained I wanted my lost money back. Some people said I had Buckley’s (no chance) but I knew the power of my email writing skills. I got an email back from the Council today advising they would refund the money and they’re sorry about the inconvenience. See? You can fight City Hall. Thank you Cairns Council.

Jones family motto - If you don’t ask you don’t get. Got a problem? Seek a response. You may just be surprised.

Set the bar…

2012-01-13T05:51:00.003+10:00

I walked into the kitchen at work the other day and there were about a dozen grungy, old coffee cups littering the kitchen bench. I walked out of the kitchen and made an announcement to the office staff along that lines of whoever had dumped the coffee cups out here needs to ‘get their arse back into the kitchen and clean them.’ This was met by a quiet ‘Okay.' It’s a predominantly male office. Before I turned up as Office Manager the previous person in the position used to wash up and – shock-frigging-horror-no-fucking-way used to make everyone coffee when they asked for it. And let's not even talk about the cake baking 'for the boys'. I think her name was Door Mat. This all stopped when I came into power. My point is this. Male dominated offices need to be whipped in to shape. Men have no bloody idea about women so give them a clue with a capital C. Establish the rules. I will not clean, cook, fetch or carry. I will not be spoken to like I’m an idiot. I can verbally, in a polite, succinct way, kick you arse from here to the front door if you push me so think before you speak. If you allow yourself to be treated like a domestic slave in the office once, it becomes a pattern and other women who follow up suffer for it. Don’t do it.

Really, I’m a sweet little thing…

Dragged backwards through a bush...

2012-01-11T18:54:00.003+10:00

I do not understand this fashion where women wear these short shorts with the pockets hanging past the end of the denim. It’s not an attractive. It makes them look like they’ve been dragged backwards through a bush. How is this look beautiful? Worse still, the very overweight are wearing them. I thought curvaceous women had more sense and avoided the scrag clothes their skinny counterparts wore. Clearly not. Whichever fashioner designer/diva/guru/wanker came up with this fashion obviously hates women.

Say no to fashion designers….

Elmer Fudd, 1950 & 2003

2012-01-11T05:01:00.004+10:00

Off hunting rabbits...interestingly enough I used to work with a bloke who looked exactly like this...he wasn't as smart though...

Frog Patrol…

2012-01-09T18:25:00.002+10:00

I’ve been given an important job. It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I am, in essence, in charge of the lives of many. I am on Frog Patrol.

Friends have gone away for a couple of days. Can I put out the bin? Check. Can I be in charge of the fate of dozens of green frog tadpoles who are making their first steps into the hazardous journey of life in the rainforest. Ummm…probably. Actually it’s very simple once it’s been explained to you 57 times and you have asked every dumb question known. There are two large plastic tubs. In tub one you have the tadpoles who are growing legs. In tub two you have tadpoles who have fours legs and are just about to drop their tails and head off into the world. Basically, I have to feed those in tub one and pick out any with four legs and put them in tub two so when they get the urge they can hit the road and find out what life is all about. I know. Huge responsibility and despite Wayne, my ex-pet budgie doing a runner, animals and no doubt green frogs, generally like my half arsed approached to life.

Now you’re asking how does one get to raise green frogs and why should we do it? Well, these friends, good hearted souls that they are, know what green frog eggs look like and when they see them in their back yard, usually after rain, they carefully put them in tubs and help them grow up. Why? Because green frogs are endangered and their main predator is the cane toad that is a pest and a plague in Queensland. So ipso facto, give the green frogs a chance to live and grow up so the world can be a better place. Pretty simple.

The viability of virginity…

2012-01-08T06:57:00.006+10:00

I don’t know whether you’ve noticed but virgins are everywhere at the moment…at the least in romance land they are. You have the too stupid to live virgin who doesn’t get the hero is after her arse until she is flat on her back under him and then you have the oh-my-god-I-need-to-lose-it virgin. Oh, and let’s not forget the virgin who stumbles across the shape shifting wolf pack of five who need a virgin for whatever half arsed reason to make their lives complete. Why so many virgins? Is it a fad? Do we want to see innocence corrupted? Do we want to go ‘aww, how sweet’ and ‘bloody hell, he’s going to put all that into her?’ Yes, yes and yes. Frankly, romance writing world has become cruder than I’ve ever seen it. Why is that? I pondered this question with a male friend. What is it women want? Why are we reading virgin books? Do we want to remember when? Do we want to see the virgin literally shafted by a wolf pack of five men? Do we see virginity as an expendable commodity to be made money out of? Do we not value innocence anymore? I don’t know. He was very quiet on the subject. Smart man.

I have to admit that this - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thevirginsale-668537-144.html Scarlet Harlot story that was subbed to me by an old Pommy (English) friend made me think about where I stood on the issue. Do I publish what I believe is romance or do I not be a prissy prude and say to hell with it? It may seem old fashioned but we – and I include myself - seem to be manipulating everything that has an ounce of purity in it into some dirty erotica story and branding it as romance to sell to women. As I said to my male friend, you have to wonder what women want. Tenderness? Passion? Or in the Aussie vernacular a good root and onto the next man? Is that romance or are we beyond that now if there is the promise of an orgasm?

The Reef....

2012-01-07T05:36:00.008+10:00

I went and took a squiz at one of the natural wonders of the world. The Great Barrier Reef. It’s amazing and beautiful. Although you can still see some damage from where Cyclone Yasi came through around this time last year, it’s still amazing with the pink, blue, purple and vivid yellow of the coral. I snorkelled for hours. Coming to Australia? Come to Cairns and see the Reef. One thing to remember - wear sunscreen. The Aussie sun can rip the hide off of you. I noticed the Aussies slapping it on and wearing hats. But the tourists? A lot of melanomas heading back overseas.

Fantastic day…

Sexy as...

2012-01-05T15:50:00.001+10:00

A really excellent movie...if you like sexy men, subtle humour, complex characters and a good plot this is the one for you...loved it.

A shapeshifter, a vampire and a girl with a daddy fetish walk into a bar...

2012-01-04T16:00:00.001+10:00

I’m usually not home when chats on author/reader loops are done as they’re done in Yankee time and that conflicts with Aussie time. In the past, I have managed to get to a few. To be absolutely honest, they’re usually a waste of time. Why? Well, a bunch of authors turn up and post excerpts of their books and other authors comment on how good the excerpt was and how they’d ‘love to read it’. Then it goes around in a circle until everyone has done the obligatory excerpt and murmured the loving it thing. No really, attend one and you’ll know what I mean. There are usual questions like ‘what is your favourite character in what book?’ ‘Do you have a muse?’ ‘A favourite story?’ or ‘are you wearing red socks, a pink pegnoir and a knitted beanie while sipping cinnamon flavoured tea?’ Ydah, ydah, ydah…

So I attended one today due to the fact I have a couple of days off over the Christmas break and that the author who was having the chat is one of the few authors I like, respect and admire. But oh lordy…it was hard work. It begs the question are these chats outdated? Do readers really care about what the author was feeling when she wrote the scene where the hero X, who is a wombat shape-shifter and older than the heroine which fits in with her Daddy fetish, shagged the stuffing out of Y, an overly beautiful virgin who dreams of being the toy of many boys before going into politics and/or being a rock star’s girlfriend, in a non tacky way while a pack of gay vampires watch on awaiting their turn with the shape shifting wombat all the time knowing they have to do it before daylight? Hmmm? I tend to write the author off as being on powerful medication or playing with her/himself. Unless you are a JK Rowing or the like you’re probably not going to draw many people to these chats to listen to you espouse your feelings on why wolf pack rape is acceptable if the heroine actually believes all 6 shape-shifting wolves really love her.

There’s got to be a better way than these tired-arsed chats…

Old friends...

2012-01-03T17:00:00.004+10:00

I was talking to Katie, an old friend – I should clarify that – she’s 11 years younger than me – but oh, an old soul. I have a feeling we’ve met up in several lives and caused amazing havoc together. She hated me on sight and at the time my thoughts about her were something along the lines of ‘stick it in your ear, sister.’ But that changed when we recognized the potential in the other. Anyway, no matter how long since we last spoke, it’s like it was only yesterday. Doncha love people like that? You don’t need to explain yourself or ask them questions. You both just get each other. Priceless. And the battles we fought together – most were righteous but some? Just because we could – I love a good stousch. Count me in.

I was thinking about good, real friends and those we can count on and I realized I could tick them off on the fingers of one hand. I mentioned this to someone else and they agreed. Strange how out of the thousands of people we meet only a handful who we trust. Funny old world.

“A friend is someone who understands your past, believes in your future, and accepts you just the way you are.” ~ unknown

Shooting dicks off....

2012-01-02T17:21:00.007+10:00

So, I watched a bit of The Bold and The Beautiful today. I haven’t watched it in ages and from what I can work out pretty much everything is the same as it was when I last saw it maybe a year ago but for the fact that one of the characters was committed to being a virgin until she married. I know. Fancy that. Anyway, I expect that will soon change and I’m guessing the virgin’s suddenly ex-fiancé who gave her engagement ring to her trashy, arch nemesis, because she slept with him and the virgin didn’t and that apparently gets you a whopping great diamond ring, will contemplate the possibilities of having sex – but – I reckon the father of the bloke who threw the virgin over due to the need to penetrate and who also slept with the trashy arch nemesis, I expect will soon sleep with the pure at heart virgin because first up the father can and probably to show her and everyone else what a real man can do. I also expect he will fall in love with the virginal one who will spurn him because she finds out his evil plan to de-virginate her – possibly a made up word – and then she will get drunk and maybe shoot him in the dick but everyone will forgive her because she’s a virgin…or was…or you know…it’s complicated yet obvious.

Anyway this brings me to another point that a friend and I had a long online discussion about today and that is does being physically/facially beautiful make life more easy for you? We came to the conclusion that it does. Why? Because you have to use what weapons you have to get what you what. Yes, yes, very manipulative but there it is. What does that have to do with drunken, dick shooting off spurned virgins? Not a lot other than if you're a man you should probably watch out for virgins with guns.

Pushing Fate - All Romance Ebooks

2012-01-02T10:30:00.002+10:00

Out now...

Pushing Fate - All Romance Ebooks

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-pushingfate-667837-140.html

Sore back…

2012-01-02T08:05:00.001+10:00

…cut hands, bruised legs and aching arms…doncha’ love it when you have time off from paid work? Just a shame I have to go back next week and sit on my arse and shuffle paper while looking like I vaguely care. It’s a hard job but someone has to be adequate at it.

Last night…

2012-01-01T06:56:00.002+10:00

…on New Year’s eve, I declared what I was aiming to do with my life this year. I spoke the words to a person I sort of knew. They looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Maybe I have. But maybe some people will always aim low and cannot understand what they perceive as madness in others is a restless to get more out of life. Whatever. I’m tired of pissing around. I want more. And people you sort of know? One ponders the question do you really need to sort of know them? The answer? No.

Happy New Year. Be safe and dream big.

I resolve…

2011-12-31T06:26:00.002+10:00

…to be myself despite what anyone else thinks.

Piss off Japan...

2011-12-29T17:19:00.005+10:00

It’s that time of the year again when Japan heads into Australian waters to slaughter whales in the name of ‘scientific research.’ Utter fucking bollocks Japan. This is a cruel, greedy and manipulative move to satisfy the selfish. It serves no purpose other than to supply Japan with whale meat. Now, as far as I’m concerned it’s a criminal activity and Japan should be ashamed of itself. But what of the international community? When will some world leader, who has balls, step up and stop this atrocity? Or are we too frigging PC and worried about upsetting Japan? Bloody upset Japan I say. Stop whaling now. Stop the slaughter now. In short, bugger off out of our waters Japan.

Things of interest from the email…

2011-12-28T18:53:00.007+10:00

…sent by All Romance ebooks, which from what I can work out is overtaking any other non publisher site.

All Romance eBooks, LLC 2011 Trend Analysis
# Total publishers in 2010 = Approx 4700
# Total publishers in 2011 = Approx 7600

I find this not at all surprising because publishing is no longer an area that a tradition bricks and mortar, we-tell-you-what-to-do-or-else owns. New, more progressive publishers who are staffed by authors or ex-authors or the Indie publishers, like myself, who do it on their own terms are growing in number.

Heat Rating = over 97% of sales are on books rated 3 or higher, of significance is that the 5 and 4 flame sales have see a combined drop of 4% over last year with most of the difference shifting to the 3 flame rating.

Interesting considering daddy-incest-force-the-virgin-ménage sex is considered a big seller. Also indicates to me that most writers are heading back to the traditional romance of the romance novel - sure, they may still have sex in them but instead of every second page it’s gone to every 5th page. Maybe plots will come back?

Romance remains, by far, our biggest seller. Although still popular, the overall market shares for gay fiction, multiple partners, BDSM, and interracial were all down 33 - 67% from 2010.

No surprise on any of that. Gay erotica has been dying slowing in the arse...pardon the pun...for a while.

The overall market share for erotica increased another 22% in 2011 and sales increased significantly for all of speculative fiction sub-genres. In rank order we saw growth in sales of Paranormal, Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Vampire/Werewolves/Shapeshifter books. In addition…the Contemporary seems to be making a comeback with a 17% increase following last year’s 55% decline.

In terms of which romance sub-genres owned the biggest piece of the pie in 2011, the top 10 are = Erotica, Vampires/Werewolves/Shapeshifters, Gay Fiction, Paranormal, Contemporary, Sci-fi/Fantasy, Multiple Partners, Interracial, Historical, Time-travel, Drama, and BDSM.

Are the over abundance of multiple partnered books wearing people down? How many ways can three, four, five people have sex without it all seeming the same?

All in all, an interesting report and a good indicator of trends. Food for thought. Thanks All Romance ebooks.

**Yellow is from the ARE email.

Oh the drama...

2011-12-27T17:30:00.005+10:00

So, I was talking on the telephone this morning when I looked out to the patio and noticed Wayne, my budgie, was outside his cage and Cheryl, the other budgie, and clearly the smarter one, was still inside. No, I have no idea how he got out. Frankly, he’s not that smart. Cute - but not the sharpest tool in the shed. Anyway, I got off the call and went outside and tried to catch him to put him back in. Yes, of course, he flew off. He knew an inept budgie catcher when he saw one. He circled the backyard for a while, then he sat on the roof, then he flew off and then came back again and generally hovered around trying to make his mind up. He didn’t respond to ‘get down here right now mister.’ Then, alas and alack, eventually, I no longer saw Wayne. Little bugger. I looked at Cheryl. I knew budgies needed company. I went into budgie emergency action plan A…actually I don’t have a budgie plan B.

Long story short, I have a much bigger cage and two new budgies that are apparently ‘babies’ who have bunked in with Cheryl. I was told 'you can’t tell a baby budgie's sex when they’re babies'. Frankly, I’m not into watching budgies have sex so their sex to me is irrelevant. I think enough said on budgie sex though I expect it will become the next erotic genre. Anyway, all is quiet in budgie land and Trevor and Louise are hanging out with Cheryl, who after making me chase her around her old cage with a towel to gracefully – not – bitch - put her into the new cage – is okay with the newbies.

Always have a budgie plan A. It could save your life.

Life is full of curtain moments...

2011-12-27T06:33:00.005+10:00

I'm making curtains today. Yes, how domestic goddess of me. When it comes to curtains, I often think of that famous moment in Gone with the Wind, a fave movie of mine, when Scarlett O'Hara rips down the green velvet curtains at Tara to make that green velvet dress. Why did she do that? She didn't want Rhett Butler thinking she was desperate and she needed him - even though she did. Smart woman our Scarlett.

http://www.utexas.edu/opa/blogs/research/2010/09/09/the-lowdown-on-scartletts-green-dress/

Lost Loves...

2011-12-26T04:00:00.008+10:00

“Megan.”

She didn’t jump when she heard her name called out. It was a voice she knew only too well. She turned and looked at him. Woodrow Hogue. Tall. Solid. Real. Her gaze went to the stray lock of sandy blond hair that sat unruly against his forehead. It made him look boyish and vulnerable. Like the first day I met him. It was a crazy thought to have. Two days ago she would have thought she was losing her mind mooning over a man she barely knew. But it was more than that. I know him. Somehow.

“I remember that as much as you and I have craved no less from you either.”

That startled Megan. That a stranger had feelings for her was exciting and unnerving. Rarely did a man elicit that response from her. She wanted to ask a million questions. She needed explanations and validation for how she felt. What did Woodrow feel? Was he as mixed up as she was? “Reading another’s mind isn’t polite.” Her eyes were hungry to take in every aspect of him from the tip of his sandy blond had down the fine cut of his old fashioned suit to the strong thighs she longed to touch. Megan once more played with her piercing as her mind flashed back to a time of naked limbs and hot bodies straining to get closer.

He smiled. “But when you know someone so well it’s instinctual.”

Yes. It was. And that smile. It made her catch her breath in wonder. She wanted to smile in kind but there were so many unanswered questions. “Where have you been?”

“So many places. Fate has a habit of toying with me.”

“Why?” What were they caught up in? Two days ago she was worried about paying the rent. Now she needed to know why she was drawn to him and what he wanted from her.

His gaze was direct. “You know why.”

“You talk in riddles. I met you two days ago. I have no idea how your mind works.”

“Don’t you?”

To admit she did would indicate that there was more to what she was feeling than she wanted to acknowledge. She wasn’t scared of feeling. She just liked to know what was going on and not flounder as she was now. That wasn’t like her. She was strong, capable and independent. Her outlook on life matched her Gothic lifestyle. She believed deeply in the dark, sensual side of life. She chose to live boldly without fear or favor. Yet now, an edge of alarm had pushed into her neat, ordered world and Megan wasn’t sure how to deal with it. “Woodrow—”

He came over to where she sat and held out his hand to her. “You said yes to me before I left.”

She had. Though what she had been saying yes to Megan hadn’t been sure. All she knew was to have denied him would have been denying herself. Megan looked at the long, slim fingers before her. She longed to feel them once more against her skin. “I was—” Megan stopped and looked at him. What am I? Who am I?

“What? Dazzled? Confused? Unsure?” Woodrow supplied the words she couldn’t. “That’s not the woman I know.”

The eyes she looked into where soft with understanding. She felt at home with him. “Do you know me?” How was that possible when she suddenly felt like a stranger to herself? Maybe I always have. Megan realized that now more than ever. It wasn’t just the clothes she wore. She had always felt herself different to others. Until now. This man gave her a sense of belonging she never wanted to admit to needing.

“I know you as well as I know myself.” Woodrow sat down beside her on the bed. He rested one hand on her fishnet thigh.

The sensation from his touch made Megan gasp in recognition that he had done so before and much more intimately. And I had welcomed it. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

Megan didn’t know how to explain it. She was at home but not at home with him. “I can’t. Not yet. I have too many questions.”

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ghostwritermegan-660773-140.html

Christmas...

2011-12-24T02:00:00.000+10:00

Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, if you believe in Christmas or just want the time off work - like me - enjoy it. Don't drink and drive. Stay safe.

Soul mates...

2011-12-23T05:16:00.000+10:00

She jumped at the intensity in his gaze. The word ‘yes’ came instantly to mind. Megan had no idea what she would have been saying yes to, knowing only that it was the right thing to say to this man. Megan lifted her hand from his arm. Normally she never had problems dealing with anyone. But this man? Everything about him affected her senses. Touching him made it both better and worse. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Death is just a door to another world just as interesting as the one we left.”

That was true. Megan wasn’t religious in any way but she believed there was more than just the world she knew. “Death interests you?”

“As I believe it does you,” Woodrow responded. “You’re a Goth. You understand the dark and the needs of one soul to commune with another, be it here or in the afterlife.”

Megan’s mouth dropped open. Yes, she did believe that but no one had summed it up quite like that. “You’re a very unusual man, Woodrow.” She liked the sound of his name on her lips. And the flash of vulnerability she saw in his eyes when she called him by name? It made her long to hold him close to her and ease whatever pain he was feeling.

“And you’re an unusual woman, Megan. I believe we are well matched.”

Soul mates. Megan jumped at that thought. Snap out of it, woman! The old world atmosphere and the soft soulfulness of the man had caught her. It was nothing more than atmosphere she was reacting to. “So, er—your life story.” It was time to get back on track.

“Yes.”

Megan looked around. “Where’s your computer?” She saw him smile. Megan was not surprised. She knew what the grin meant. “You don’t have one do you?” Modern technology would seem out of place in this room.

“The written word should be just that. Pen to paper and a person’s thoughts.” Woodrow motioned her to a desk. The surface was neatly ordered with paper, a quill pen and ink.

“You are really living your world. The clothes, the décor and the ink.” Megan picked up the fine cut glass ink well. It was beautiful and meant to be as was everything else in his home.

“You dress as a Goth. You like that lifestyle.”

Megan smiled at what Woodrow was implying. “Yes but I check my email and answer my cell phone.”

“But in your heart Megan, you still crave a simple life.”

She opened her mouth to say no, but realized yes, she did. “You’re very spooky.”

Woodrow laughed out loud at that. “And you’re perfectly charming.” He pulled out a chair at the desk.

Megan sat down. When Woodrow sat beside her it felt right. She picked up one of the pages. The writing was like the note, old fashioned and spidery. One paragraph caught her eye.

After my beloved died I felt I could not go on. I wanted to lie down in the grave beside her, press my body to hers and gasp my last against her sweet, still body.

The words made her want to cry and Megan was not the emotional sort. “You were married?”

“I still am. Marriage is more than just a joining of lives. It’s a melding of soul mates.”

Her heart beat furiously. It was everything Megan believed and wanted. “I’m sorry for your loss.” To hear a man to admitting to loving his wife so deeply and continuously was beautiful.

“Why?”

“You must miss her.”

Woodrow’s mouth curved into a soft smile. “I know I will be with her one day.”

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ghostwriterprelude-646517-140.html

Hook up...

2011-12-21T20:01:00.004+10:00

So I was driving from the gym to work and I was listening to Zinc FM Cairns. A young woman had rung in as she was trying to track down the bloke she had a ‘sleep-over’ – one night stand with. Apparently she met him in one of the local bars here and things happened and they hooked up and I’m assuming, due to her on air level of enthusiasm, he must have been good to sleep over with…ah, sleep…can’t get enough of it. The problem was this woman did not remember the bloke’s name and she wanted to hook up with him again. In fact, other than being introduced for a nano-second and then imbibing copious amounts of the old fermented grape, she couldn’t remember his name. Not even when they were on their sleep over. She kept expecting he would repeat it. I can’t see how. It’s not like he was going to say “My name is Wayne. Do I need a condom? Get your clothes off. Did I mention my name was Wayne? Great tits. My name is Wayne."

Anyway I liked her. She made no apologies for the sleep over or wanting to meet up with him again. My point is, and I do have one, there are people who are critical of erotic romance saying that it’s not realistic and those things don’t happen and if they do women who have sleep-overs are sluts. Here’s the thing – yes, erotic romance is about sex and reality and it’s in your face and if you don’t like it in your face then put your face somewhere else. And yes, sex happens. As for women being sluts? What do we call the ‘Waynes’ of the world? Isn’t there some proverb about sin and casting stones?

Hook ups happen. No apologies.

Stereotypes…

2011-12-21T05:22:00.003+10:00

Up until now, I’ve tried very hard not to stereotype people. I’ve been stereotyped. I still get stereotyped. Don’t be a single woman and not have a steady man in your life because that instantly stereotypes you by those who cannot think further than their front gate.

However – buts – like howevers – are always with us - there is this man at work who I have decided I cannot remain in the land of unsteretyoping about him any longer. He is early 30’s, an IT person who lives at home with his parents, spends huge volumes of money on a loud muscle car, electric toys which he plays with at the office, calls women ‘she’, her’ and ‘it’ and then wonders why he has no girlfriend. He eats everything in sight – other people’s lunches, uses their stuff and then breaks it and when a special morning tea is delivered he bemoans the fact that they should have ‘ordered more’ as he eats everything there without deferring to others. He is, in essence, a 6 year old spoilt boy whose parents should have kicked out of the house years ago. Management are ‘aware’ of the problem he presents in the office. Their theory? ‘We must all work together to make him a better person.’ My theory? ‘Oh piss off. I’m not paid enough for that.’

Stereotype him? Oh fuck yes.

Highly suspicious…

2011-12-19T17:46:00.003+10:00

So, I was really pleased with the customer service I got at a certain bank. So much so that I bunged a note of thanks, to the consultant, who helped me on the bank’s send a complaint/compliment page. I’m a great believer in people being recognized for doing good and that businesses need to acknowledge that and the fact that their staff are actual people and not just employee numbers. This is the written response I got back.

Dear Miss Jones

RE: Customer Relations Case CR-72891-1A

I am writing regarding your compliment registered with us.

I would like to thank you for providing your feedback regarding the service you received from Louise of the Cairns Branch. This email is to confirm that we have recorded your feedback and Louise’s manager has been notified.

If you have any questions about this email, or wish to provide additional information about your complaint, please contact me on 1800 XXX XXX, Monday to Friday 9:00am – 6:00pm (DLST) or at customerrelationswe’vehearditallbefore.com

Yours sincerely

Cheryl Cyber-Person

Hmmm…’additional information about your complaint?’ I was a tad concerned about Louise until she rang and thanked me for the compliment I put in and that no one ever says, let alone, puts a compliment in writing. Sad huh? We have generic emails back that automatically have the word ‘complaint’ in them and we’re quick to whinge and blame and we’re expected to. But thank someone? Highly suspicious.

Ghost Writer ~ Megan - All Romance Ebooks

2011-12-18T12:56:00.002+10:00

Ghost Writer ~ Megan - All Romance Ebooks

It Only Takes a Girl....

2011-12-18T07:20:00.000+10:00

Suck it up, Princess

2011-12-17T05:00:00.009+10:00

I fully understand that the book is the author’s baby, something they have sweated tears and blood over for weeks, months, in some cases even years, but there comes a time when the author needs to pull up her big girl panties, tie a knot, and move on.

So the publisher ignored your carefully prepared fact sheet and the cover art looks nothing like you envisioned the heroine to be. If the hair color and body shape is reasonably accurate, and she’s not pictured in the snow when your story takes place in midsummer, and the title and your name is spelled correctly, then it’s time to suck it up, Princess. Publishers produce cover art on a budget. There are also house style rules that must be obeyed. Other quirks include things like some fonts don’t translate into various download formats so can’t be used.

Acting like a drama queen because the heroine’s hair is too long or too short is usually a waste of time. If you ask nicely, the artist may be able to change it. If the publisher says no, accept that, tie a knot and move on.
Sometimes I watch on chat loops as arguments about the placement of commas, or whether or not a word is hyphenated, go on for days or even weeks. Most publishers have a house style manual. You may always have written using the Oxford comma. Many publishers have now deleted it. They are not going to reinstate it no matter how much you argue.
Similarly with hyphenation. Go to www.onelook.com. That will give you an idea about how a word is usually spelled. But even so, if house style is to spell it a different way, then that’s the way it’ll be.

For something not house style, if you want it spelled the way 2 out of 27 records show it, I don’t think the publisher will agree. Again, you can ask politely, but prepare yourself for rejection. The author’s job is to write the book. Once you sign a contract you agree to follow house style and editing processes. If you spend the entire editing cycle in tears, maybe this is not the publisher for you. Submit elsewhere next time. Live and learn. Or go Indie. That way at least you have control over your cover art. But remember, if the way you spell and punctuate in your Indie book is too different from the norm, you’ll pull your reader out of the story and they won’t buy your next book. Meanwhile, suck it up, Princess.

Helen Woodall
Freelance Editor
http://helenwoodallfreelanceediting.blogspot.com/

**Amarinda here...Want a good, experienced editor who will not piss around with your book and who has actually been in the business more that 2 seconds? I totally recommend Helen Woodall.

Got an email…

2011-12-16T05:37:00.005+10:00

…from…er…let’s call her Lucy Lou. She wanted to know how I could write stories where the heroine doesn’t make the hero wear a condom. Very easily. I sit on my arse and write them. But seriously…I need to stop sitting so much…but really, the thing is Lucy Lou I’m not and never will be or allow myself to be the moral conscience of any other bugger on the planet. If you read my stories – fantastic – thank you. If you choose to act like the characters in those stories than it’s exactly that – your choice. Stories are fiction. Oh sure, writers use their own life experience but nowhere in a story will I or any other author I know write ‘and you should all go out and have sex with multiple men and use no condom.’ The thing is it’s fantasy. Do I personally think you should use a condom if you are fucking like a bunny with every man you meet? Yeah. But that’s not my call.

Romance writing is fiction. It’s a what if he did that to her thrill and what if she said yes to him?

Suck, blow, on, off, in, out…do what your conscience dictates.

Bone tossing…

2011-12-15T17:58:00.001+10:00

So I was feeling a bit down thinking about my younger brother Cameron and that it would have been his 46th birthday today if not for the soul destroying disease of Bi-Polar. And it is a disease that kills many people. Don’t judge or make assumptions until you know…because I don’t think we’ll ever know or understand Bi-polar.

Cameron used to write. We’re a family of scribblers. He was a really excellent writer. A proper writer. He wrote plays. As I often do, I Google his name and the names of his plays. Why? Because those with Bi-polar often don’t think clearly about their rights and legalities. I never find anything – until today. I was gobsmacked to find one of his plays in the Australian National Library. It’s the same play I have a framed wall poster of in my house. I immediately registered to join the library to get that play.

Funny how life throws you a bone when you need it most.

Thanks Cameron.

Frock off...

2011-12-14T19:55:00.004+10:00

I must have been living under a rock or high fashion couture means stuff all to me, but I was at the gym this morning on the treadmill and this story came on about a male who models as a woman. In particular he models lingerie. Now generally I believe you can do what you want and live any lifestyle you like as long as you don’t annoy me. This annoys me. A lot. Why? Because there is enough pressure put on women to look a certain way or be a certain weight or shape without a skinny bloke coming along, dressing as a woman to sell fashion to women and what they should like in women’s fashion. The thing is women psychologically are not men and we don’t have the same hormones and in many cases not the same metabolic rate as a man. We get fat, we get thin, our hips are actual hips and our stomachs are not always flat. We have boobs. Big ones, small ones, hanging ones, flat ones but we have them. For this man – and he is a man – to be used by these so called fashion designers who think they have the right to dictate how women will dress is wrong, rude, pretentious and smacks at discrimination.

When are we going to stop placing unrealistic expectations on women? Why do we give these idiot fashion designers so much power? Why the hell don’t they regulate the industry? I don’t want to look like a scrawny boy. Take your glad rags and your pretend woman and frock off…

http://www.heraldsun.com.au/news/national/man-she-looks-like-a-woman-pejic-boost-for-hema/story-e6frf7l6-1226221530470

Come to Cairns, George…

2011-12-13T19:55:00.002+10:00

So George Clooney is in Australia for some reason doing something. I would have paid more attention if he was coming to Cairns. He foolishly decided not to. George, George, George… you may be sexy, rich, a humanitarian, a fine actor but I swear to god man you pick the wrong women. It’s none of my business but if you stopped picking up with thin, pretty women and instead looked at the pudgy, persistent and dangerously downright smart women that abound in the world you’d be happier. Come to Cairns George and I will show you the error of your ways and find the right woman for you. No, it’s not me. I’m too much for any man to handle.

So George – haul arse up here and we’ll find you a nice Cairns woman. You know I’m right.

Great balls of sweat…

2011-12-12T19:44:00.006+10:00

So, lunch was over and I was driving back to work when I saw this insane sight. I preface this by saying it’s been hellishly hot in Cairns. For one mad moment I was happy to be at work because of the air con. I did, of course, slap myself around the head severely for equating ‘happy’ and ‘work’ in the same sentence unless the sentence is ‘Amarinda was so happy to leave work she ran giggling out of the building with glee.’ Actually, I don’t run unless I have no option. I’m more of a wanderer…I could wander and giggle…anyway, it’s been frying-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk hot, which when I was about 13 I watched a bunch of other kids, in the Army camp we were living in, crack open a carton of eggs on the sidewalk. They didn’t fry. They sort of congealed and stayed in a blobby mess for a week or so and we would walk past on the way to get the bus to school and say ‘Nope, eggs don’t fry on cement.’ Another illusion shattered. Anyway…what was I talking about…oh yes, so Patrick, my car, and I were driving back to work along Scott Street when I saw this woman dressed as a trashy arsed Santa Claus in a tight, red satin mini-dress number that just covered her arse and exposed a lot of boob. Oh, and there was fur. In Cairns. She was wearing fur. In summer. Fur. Hot. Interestingly enough she was neither drunk nor a working girl – they have way more sense when picking a corner to work. This sweaty, red satin lady was selling something to do with beauty and spa treatments. She looked half dead with the heat and not as jolly as I suspect she was supposed to look. And as for selling beauty? I just wanted an ice-cream after I saw her. Do people ever think when it comes to advertising when they put a nubile, half naked woman out on the street selling beauty at Christmas? The answer is you put a half naked man out there and I would have stopped just to watch him sweat. Ho, ho, ho…

Maybe...

2011-12-11T17:39:00.004+10:00

So I mentioned my train-wreck-like fascination in watching The Bachelor. It’s a repeat from 2009 and it features a bloke called Jason and a dozen women who all declare they are falling in love with him. Hmmm, I don’t think so and the word ‘desperation’ comes to mind. While I believe women are genetically programmed to be in love, I do think some fall in love because they want to be in love and in a couple so badly they make themselves believe it. Despite being the cynic I am, I look at these women and think how maybe we all want to believe that true love can be found on TV. Can it? I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I watch. Maybe I like train wrecks. Maybe I want to be less a jaded soul. Maybe that’s why we read romance books. Maybe we want to believe the hero will be so besotted with the plain/frumpy/overweight/skinny/too intelligent heroine that he will overcome any obstacle or objection to be with her. Maybe the things we want for ourselves are mirrored in what we watch and read. Maybe it’s safer to be a spectator. Maybe I need to go cold turkey on The Bachelor. Maybe…

Today I dig...

2011-12-11T07:00:00.003+10:00

Down, down, deeper down...

Going indie…

2011-12-10T16:36:00.005+10:00

So, I was thinking’s that’s been a bit over 6 months since I went indie and started pubbing my own stories. It’s been an interesting experience. Do I regret it? Oh hell no. There is nothing like the freedom of doing it on your own terms. Has it been a learning curve? Oh yeah. I have come to view established publishing as being made up of shysters, dopey divas and nongheads who make publishing way more difficult than it has to be. I cannot fathom why e-books have to be so expensive when overheards are low. But that’s greed for you. Has going indie been worth it? Yes. Nothing tastes as good as freedom does. From a slow start it’s been consistent in an upward movement.

Thinking of going indie? It’s hard work but then nothing worthwhile is easy. Indie publishers aren’t about following the mainstream. It’s not about yes-men and screwing authors over. It’s not about dodgy royalty cheques and suspect editor/authors who know nothing but have their lips on the butt of the publisher. It’s about relying on yourself and your instinct. If you have the skin of a rhino, the persistence to carry on even when you wonder what the hell you are doing, a defiant streak of anti-establishment within you and the ability to laugh when all goes wrong then go indie.

No, correct, you can't...that's annoying...

2011-12-10T16:11:00.000+10:00

I have been unfaithful…

2011-12-09T05:54:00.002+10:00

…I have looked at another with lust in my eyes and I’m going to do more than just look today. I’m going to caress, wriggle my arse against the object of my desire and think seriously about making it my own.

There is one problem. How do I tell Patrick, my car, I’m looking at replacing him? He probably suspects already. He’s smart - filthy but smart…just how I like my men.

Size right!

2011-12-07T19:48:00.005+10:00

So I went and bought a belt at lunchtime. So what you say? It’s a big what. Stick with me in my rambulation. Anyway as I am losing weight…my apologies if you find it…send it back and I’ll bury it in the garden… my strides (pants/slacks/trousers/long bits of fabric that cover your legs – pick what’s applicable to your hemisphere) - are loose and Huston we have a problem if they fall down as showing that much cellulite on display is, to my understanding, against the law. So I went to a store and wandered over to a belt rack and I picked out the size that I though would fit me – medium. No, it didn’t. Too small. I picked up large – no, too small again. Huh…so I rifled through the belts and came across another medium – this time too big and yes, the large was too big. The small was right. No, this isn’t going into a Goldilocks and the three bears story but if it was I’d have had that blonde bimbo kicked out of the bear’s house for intrusion. Tramp. Hussy. Home invader.…where was I? Weight…medium…large…small…oh yeah…so I’ve never been small in anything – though in saying that I always get told I have really small ear holes and this annoys doctors when they want to look inside. My answers to that is don’t.…but I digress…back to belts. So I was thinking ‘what the hell is wrong with these sizes?’

I went through the whole bloody rack and discovered that when I take into account all the different manufactures not one of them had consistency in sizes. What is my point you ask? My point is that in a world where people of all sizes from petite to the voluptuous ladies of size 26 and up you would think these nongheads manufacturers could all agree on sizes. It’s stupid and shitty enough that they make larger women feel like crap when they show off skeletal fashion designed for size 2 - which is for a baby - and call that the ideal size. The ideal size is what a woman in herself is happy with so stop buggerizing around with the sizes and just make them standard. Just let a woman walk to a rack and pick up a shirt and skirt and a belt knowing that the size she holds in her hand will be correct and she doesn’t have to go through all this bullshit of trying it on an wasting time. Do they piss around with men’s clothes like this? I think not.

The attack of the hambecks…

2011-12-06T19:33:00.002+10:00

So, I was at the gym doing gym stuff – sweating, moaning, bitching – and I noticed, as I climbed up to trot along on one of the treadmills, that the TV monitors were all set so not only did you see the picture and hear it when you plugged in your handy dandy earplugs but they also had captions on screen. This meant that you could read everything that the god awfully perky morning TV people said. Interestingly enough what the perky morning people were saying did not match a lot of the words that were being typed there. Words like ‘consil,’ ‘Roncel’, ‘sonable’, 'yangherd' and ‘turhkd’ kept coming up on screen along with a lot of the word ‘attack’ and ‘hambeck’. What I understand from this, as I watched on avidly for the next attack of the hambecks, is that either the typist was a drunk (and or/an author) or a subliminal message was being sent to me. No, I don’t know what it was but I plan to be back on the treadmill tomorrow to learn more roncel, sonable, yangherd.

As much as I like sex....

2011-12-06T05:42:00.007+10:00

…of late I have been backing away from it…er, the writing of it. Why? Well, strangely enough I’ve been more interested in writing a story rather then sex with a bit of a story that explains why the couple/trio/wolf pack/space cowboys/tin man/Toto/Bob’s Big Boy-come-to-life are having rampant, bone shaking, she-ain’t-never-gonna-walk-straight-again-sex. Will the stories I write have sex in them? Yes. Sex is as natural as eating chocolate but I want to actually develop the story and explain the hero and heroine’s history and why they at the point of the story where they are and what they’re going to do to be together before they shag each other senseless. I want to see and read and believe in the romance first. Is it madness to write like this in a market where more sex, weird sex and multiple sexual partners makes money? Probably. Colour me weird…

Ghost Writer series - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ghostwriterprelude-646517-140.html

Something something…

2011-12-05T04:39:00.008+10:00

I expect today to be difficult. I've thought about how I will handle it and it's guaranteed to be messy. It always is when I have to speak my mind and explain I simply will not accept less than I believe I am due. Yes. I’m difficult, unusual, an individual, fearless, stupid, amazing and completely justified in all I do. For a second I had a moment of worry about ‘what ifs’ and can I go back to square one yet again. I can - and when has life never had ‘what if’s’ in it? So there. It’s going to be a messy day. And it’s a Monday. The perfect storm.

Oh, and where is my cheque Ellora's Cave? For god sake just bloody pay me what I'm due. It's not rocket science.

The Bachelor...

2011-12-04T09:26:00.004+10:00

It’s Sunday in Oz and that means at around 4:30pm-ish I down tools and slump in front of the TV and watch The Bachelor. Those of you who have no idea what that is probably means you have way more brain cells than me. Basically, it’s a Yankee show that features one man – ipso facto the Bachelor – and then a bunch of highly made up and generally silicon city women – meow – who all vie for his attentions supposedly in the name of true love and or a contract on Dancing with the Stars or something similar when they fall out of TV-land reality love. So from 20-something women they dwindle down to the last 4 who all proclaim love for this man they have spent maybe a hour with on a ‘one-on-one’ date while all being ‘very close’ to their fellow competitors in the race to TV love.

Why do I watch it? I think I like the schlock value of it most. I like the dramatic angst ridden ‘I love him the most’ moments, the crying, the catty looks and the carefully hidden behind a thin layer of snide remarks they make to each other. The one I’m watching at the moment is from 2009 and it features a bloke called Jason. I already Googled to see who he ended up with and the cliff hanger-gasp-shock-horror-he did-what-to-her-moment-we-all-hate-him-oh-wait-maybe-he-does-love-the-runner-up-isn’t-that-sweet-do-you-think-her-boobs-are-fake drama of it all. Love as defined by television – ain’t it gloriously plastic?

Phone a friend...

2011-12-03T07:18:00.003+10:00

I had this moment yesterday at work when a lot of pukeable things all hit at once and it took every ounce of strength I had not to tell them to go forth and multiply aka fuck off. Anyway, I sucked it up as best I could and I started, once more, to plot an escape plan out of that job. Why? Because I’m worth way more than dealing with idiots. Unfortunately there are beaucoup idiots in business.

Anyway I was down, but not out, and contemplating my next move when a friend called. Just when you think that there’s not a soul on the planet that understands how you think, a simple phone call can make a huge difference in the direction you take and it can put the wind back into your sails. Thank you friend.

Christmas books....

2011-12-02T05:47:00.008+10:00

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-screwchristmas-648674-144.html

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bluechristmas-648673-146.html

Yes, it's the time of the year when we turn to tinsel, jingle bells, white fur suits and over-eating. Sounds like a kinky romance. Add 2 cowboys, two werewolves and a cross-dressing bad guy, possibly misunderstood, and who lusts after the heroine and you have a bad, yet saleable menage. Sorry - I've put copyright on that.

But no, it's the run up to Christmas or the politically correct 'holiday season'. Blue Christmas and the Christmas Freebie Screw Christmas are out now. Enjoy.

Ghost Writer ~ Prelude - All Romance Ebooks

2011-11-30T20:40:00.003+10:00

Ghost Writer ~ Prelude - All Romance Ebooks

A change of pace for me...Out Now

What I know today is…

2011-11-30T05:45:00.001+10:00

Even though I have lost quite a bit of weight, I find the slogan 'nothing is as good as skinny feels' unrealistic and rude to us non-skinny people. I don't want to be skinny and lots of things feel better than skinny feels.

Muriel…you’re a slut…

2011-11-28T19:14:00.005+10:00

I got this review back which said in no uncertain terms that the character in a story I wrote was a slut who enjoyed herself too much by having sex with men. Whore. Tramp. Hussy. Tart. A big scarlet letter on your forehead missy…seriously, I always thought Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter was a total load of bollocks… but I digress…back to sluts. I admire a reviewer who gives an opinion without fear or favour. I just have to wonder if you read the blurb of an erotic book called Dicking Around, that indicates the heroine has sex with a load of men and likes it, why would you shocked when she has sex with a load of men? Or is it okay to write about a woman having sex with 5 men, all of who usually transform into a wolf pack at night or they're cowboys by day who look at a cow's rear and fantasize about the heroine and who gets to shag her senseless first. I always wonder what the next four guys think after first shagging...but I digress again...what do we label the hero when he sleeps with a bunch of women? Naughty? A Bad boy? Wild? Not the same as the old fashioned and archaic word slut is it?

What exactly is she a slut? The word ‘slut’ was a terrible taunt when I was 8 years old. It was one of those delightfully, naughty words you said because you could and at 8 it’s fun to shock people.

Slut –

A person, especially a woman, considered sexually promiscuous.

A slut is a derogatory term used for a person - usually a woman - who engages in casual sexual behavior.

Slut or slattern is a pejorative term applied to an individual who is considered to have loose sexual morals or who is sexually promiscuous. The term is generally applied to women and is an insult or offensive term of disparagement...

So, Becky-Sue thanks for the review. It gave me a chuckle and I appreciate the time and effort it took you to write the review. As for women calling other women – real or fictitious - who choose to live by their own sexual rules a slut? It’s 2011. The term slut is misguided and old fashioned.

Dicking Around is available at Evernight Publishing.

Throw back...

2011-11-27T19:06:00.007+10:00

It occurred to me today as I sat at the hairdresser getting blonde foils put through my hair while watching another woman have four hours worth of hair extensions put in and another have the teasing combed carefully out of her hair – it was teased in the name of a beauty pageant – puh-lease – while I read about some overweight C grade Aussie celebrity who dropped her clothes to prove that being fat and naked was beautiful and I realized as women we have no idea what beauty is. We are guided by nonghead celebrities trying to gain fame, the age we are and whether some man will want us with more hair or less hair. Sad really. What is beauty? A smile. A kiss. A flower. A kind word. It ain’t got nothing to do with your hair, face, arse or a man. It was a good reminder for me. Hair dye, extensions or body parts don’t maketh the woman and if that catcheth the man then he ain’t worth catching. Throw him back.

Randomania…

2011-11-26T19:29:00.005+10:00

- I don’t understand how people can celebrate the giving of thanks one day and be pepper spraying each other the next in order to grab the best bargain at a sale.
- Some people are animals. Scratch that. Animals have better manners.
- I’m in the midst of contemplating the infinite possibilities of my life. I do this best in my pj’s.
- I’m wondering if the turtles in the Freshwater Creek have a preference for white or multi-grain bread or do they indeed go with the flow.
- How does one cock block? Is it about abstaining from sex?
- If you can fool some of the people all of the time I say forget the people you can only fool half the time.
- Do budgies get bored?
- I’m thinking of taking a trip to Broome or Uluru.
- I’m contemplating looking for my spiritual side. Just can’t remember if it’s left, right or my backside.
- Getting blonde streaks tomorrow. Why? Why not.
- I wrote a story without sex in it. I expect I’ll go to author’s hell. Oh wait, I’ve been to a book convention already.
- Doncha’ wish your girlfriend was hot like me?
- If you could have a ménage would you?
- If you were naked and had to cover one body part I bet it would be your arse.
- Do you wonder about why we have fingernails?
- Sex as a weapon? Bang, bang.

"i Swear" - 2011 White Ribbon Australia Campaign

2011-11-25T04:00:00.001+10:00

It's White Ribbon Day in Australia. What does that mean? It's Australia's campaign to stop violence against women. Men who don't hit women and swear against violence? Now they're heroes. If you are a woman and being abused, please seek help. You deserve to be treated better.

http://www.whiteribbon.org.au/myoath

Got boobs? Use 'em....

2011-11-23T19:11:00.004+10:00

So, I was at the shops and I passed the food court and I saw a sight that made me stop and ponder. There was this very blonde, curvaceous woman in a short skirt and tight top. She was balancing two plates of food - one in one hand and one on her inner forearm and in the other hand she had 2 bottles of Pepsi and some serviettes. A man, her companion, followed close behind her carrying some cutlery. He was not the slightest bit burdened and he was just an average Joe. Now, this made me ponder several things…1. It is indeed a fact that only women can multi-task - and 2 - Lordy woman, you've got him following you, get him to carry stuff. Sexist? Yes. But I say if you've got boobs use 'em.

Do you have it in puce?

2011-11-22T19:24:00.004+10:00

So, I got a new sofa and thought I’d sell the old recliner chairs. They’re in excellent nick but I just don’t need them. It’s part of my live uncomplicated approach to life. This would work splendidly if I was an uncomplicated person. But I’m a work in progress along with being just plain swell. Anyway, I decided to place a free ad in the local paper and sell them. At first, no one called. I was told to be patient that this was the tropics and no one rushed. At lunchtime the calls came in. What colour are the chairs? Dark red? I wanted puce. Are they leather? No. I wanted leather. They’re not leather. That’s a shame because I wanted leather. Build a bridge. Another said I have a 2 hour threshold that I can spend time seeing the chairs in. You need to be home now. My response? Ah, no. Then the ever popular you live all the way out there? Yes, I live the terrible 15-20 drive from the centre of Cairns. And the requests and question went on. Red chairs. After work. No, I don’t take magic beans. Yes, you’ll probably need a cut lunch and 17 litres of water and bus money tied into a knot in your hankie to get to my place. People. Odd.

Screaming mee mees....

2011-11-21T18:25:00.007+10:00

I have the worst case of the screaming mee mees. And, although pukable Monday is over, the screaming mee mees started yesterday when I had to leave the house and do something. Go somewhere. Why? No, it wasn't hormonal either. It was the screaming mee mees. Never had them? Lucky. They make you so restless and in need of doing something dumb that it’s an effort not to give into the screaming mee mees. Yesterday, I passed by a sign that said ‘The Savannah Highway – Cairns to Broome – A gazillion miles’. I had a huge yen to turn Patrick, my car, onto the Savannah Highway and go to Broome. I would have but for the fact the fuel gauge was on epic fail and I suspected Patrick would bung on a turn and break down just to spite me. So no Savannah highway. Not yet anyway.

So the screaming mee mees. What is the cure you ask? You have to do something so stupid - but not necessarily regrettable - I've had some amazing and wonderful screaming mee mee breaking moments - that it jolts you back into the mundane. Hmmm…what to do…what to do?

Five good things about Monday…

2011-11-21T05:43:00.006+10:00

1. I’m still alive
2. I checked and all my toes are still in place
3. I get to buy a cordless drill today
4. I don’t have to wake up to a chirpy person extolling the virtues of Monday and therefore I don't have to punch anyone out.
5. Um...I’m thinking…thinking…

Situations...

2011-11-20T07:03:00.000+10:00

Can't get enough of them...

It's that time of the week....

2011-11-19T06:45:00.002+10:00

The crapacious pukeability of cleaning spliflicates my senses...

The assassin...

2011-11-18T04:52:00.002+10:00

I was at the gym doing some boxing. That means I put on my boxing gloves, smack bags around and sweat a lot. There is this man I see quite a bit. I’ll be honest. He’s not someone I’d want to come across in a dark alley as my super power of being mouthy wouldn’t save me. He walks in a restrained, if-you-look-sideways-at-me-I’ll-kill-you kind of way. He boxes with bare knuckles and kick boxes bare footed. He slams the bags so hard that I can almost hear them crying in terror. In essence, he’s a scary dude. I tend to believe he’s an assassin.

I had never heard him speak until yesterday. I was punching stuff and he walked in. He looked at me. I smiled in that please-don’t-kill-me-way-I-have-a-new-sofa-arriving-tomorrow-kind-of-way. And then he spoke. It was low and contained, as you’d expect from an assassin – and British – very, very British and quite wry. I did a double take. It was not what I expected. Oh yeah, he’s an assassin all right.

Left-over helmets...

2011-11-17T04:54:00.002+10:00

I finally put the barbeque together. It’s just a simple charcoal one that I bought after Cyclone Yasi in February. Yes, February…don’t rush me. Anyway I bought it because I realized I can withstand any crisis but I need coffee when the power goes out for days. Hence flame, heat, boiling water, coffee, calm woman, no one gets hurt.

So, it’s together but for all those extra bolts and screw things they give you as gifts – and those 4 black cup like things with a hole in the base. Not sure what they’re for. I’m thinking maybe it’s to do with providing a helmet to a small animal. I expect I can make hats for Wayne and Cheryl, my budgies, for the next big blow. Just not sure they’d look good in black.

Okay, I’ll say it…

2011-11-16T05:43:00.007+10:00

The US President is due in Australia for a 27 hour visit. This is going to cost shite loads of money for the Aussie tax payers. Not to mention how much this costs US tax payers to have him flying in here. All for 27 hours. In a time when everyone is tightening their belts and looking at their finances in light of the global economy – and you just know the whole Europe-in-debt thing is going to make everything worst – why can’t the President stay at home? Why not phone it in? Why do we have our Prime Minister wandering off to Hawaii in a time when we could use her travel money to correct problems at home? Budget cuts? Cut your own. We know how to cut ours. We’ve all been doing it for years. Now, I’m sure the bloke from the US is a nice guy but seriously – 27 hours to talk about defence plans when he could have sent an email? Or done a teleconference? If globally we have to be more economically responsible, why can’t politicians, who are despite the pop star glamour just people, not take that on board?

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-11-16/obama-to-land-in-australia-this-afternoon/3673782

Crimson...

2011-11-15T05:00:00.003+10:00

So I bought this really impractically coloured crimson sofa thing today. It doesn’t match a damn thing in the house but then nothing I own matches. I looked at the colour choices. Cream – nah, I’m always rushing, rushing, rushing and I spill things as I dash around. Brown – practical, matches things, it’s a grown up colour, and it makes sense. Nah. I don’t want any of that. Crimson. Impulsive, silly, crazy and I expect Wayne and Cheryl, my budgies, if they looked from their perch inside and saw it they would roll their eyes in horror yet at the same time be dead jealous. Crimson is the colour of madness, fools and silly buggers. It matches nothing. I’ll have it.

That then led to what to do with the two recliner chairs I have. They’re 15 years old – yes, I’m a keeper of things – and in good nick because my mother, bless her crimson toenails – always made sure as kids we understood we had to ‘look after things.’ So, I emailed a friend at work, I was at work too, but questions about recliner chairs are way more important than whatever it is they pay me for. He suggested selling them in a freebie classified that runs every Tuesday in the Cairns Post. Good idea but there is a problem. To get it free you have to say as little as possible in a certain amount of words yet it has to make sense. This is hard for someone who writes because we’re emotionally tortured, sensitive, angst ridden souls who delve deeply into the depths of the swirling morass of feelings that make up humankind and complex needs and raw emotion need space to breathe and grow so what we write becomes a part of us and is embedded in our psyche and our readers are enriched by the experience. I put ‘2 recliners. Very good nick. Phone ####.’ Yep, considered that embedded.

I don’t understand…

2011-11-14T05:15:00.011+10:00

….if one email from a publisher tells you every single author they have on their books has their cheques sent out on the exact same day then why am I still waiting weeks afterwards? When I question the ‘exact day’ thing, I get an email saying they ‘stagger’ the payments in batches. Right. A sceptical person would murmur ‘money problems’ because if you have the funds in you pay the funds out to the people who made you those funds. Pretty damn simple but then I get emails from authors in a certain publisher's loop that tell me I missed out on a fairy story about the cancellation of a hotel for the annual convention because someone supposedly saw the manager of the hotel apparently slap his wife/partner/woman so the someone apparently turned on their heel in disgust and said something like ‘we will no longer use this hotel because he’s an evil doer and we will tell all our minions.’

Two thoughts come to mind – anyone who watches another being assaulted should report it or try to stop it unless it was an mythical slap that was made up to explain to less than smart authors the reason a hotel was no longer being used. Saying ‘we can't afford it’ is not as dramatic as picking up your skirts and dramatically leaving – though it saying that I would have added to the story a sword, maybe a buxom heroine, who loves ménage sex, bondage, Daddy/incest themed sex, dressed in skimpy clothing and a hero, who can do all that including the skimpy clothing, who rushes in to help her as she avenges the wife/woman/partner who allegedly got slapped. My other thought? Authors know more bad plot lines than anyone else so it seems crazy trying to spin one as an excuse because less than happy authors like to share stuff like that.

If you turn your head sideways and squint a lot thar be turtles...

2011-11-13T08:10:00.003+10:00

This day last year...

2011-11-12T07:18:00.004+10:00

…I had just farewelled the movers as they departed with my worldly goods and Patrick, my stoic car, and I were set to hit the road to Cairns that was a bazillion miles away. Patrick was packed to the gills, I had a map, no job to go to and no home to settle in. I was taking a humungous leap of faith leaving the familiar for nothing and the unfamiliar. But that’s the beauty of doing stuff like that. Everyone needs a huge karmic shift in their life so they re-evaluate what they want and where they need to be. Me? I done good. I have an excellent house, have had several jobs since moving up here, aquired two militant budgies and I have met and made friends. Life is what you make it. Change? I like it.

Remembrance Day 11/11/11...

2011-11-11T05:00:00.003+10:00

Lest We Forget.

Here and there...

2011-11-09T19:54:00.002+10:00

I'm also here today... http://helenwoodallfreelanceediting.blogspot.com/2011/11/editors-from-hell-writers-true-story.html

Mary Sue-ish my arse...

2011-11-09T05:42:00.006+10:00

Mary Sue-ish.. Have you heard this term before? I'd heard it mentioned in an ambiguous way but wasn't that familiar with what it exactly meant. When my editor said she was afraid my character might be too Mary Sue-ish, I decided to do some researching. In a nutshell, the character is too perfect to be believable and the reader won't be able to relate. Okay, got that.

One of the suggestions, she made was to drop the XS size. Got that too. Although in defense of all the XS's out there, all it means is that you've got a small frame and won't have to worry about sag as you age:) Its one of those things you bemoan while you're young but appreciate as you get older:)
Besides losing the XS shirts, I also gave her size nine shoes and a total lack of understanding when it comes to chemistry. A bit of a blonde? Not at all, she's smart, just doesn't get chemistry. Is this enough to take away any Mary Sue-ish stigma...we'll see.

http://sandracox.blogspot.com/2011/11/mary-sue-ish.html

I find this interesting. Why can't we have a 'too good to be true,' petite, nice female character in a book? Why do we have to make her flawed or dumb her down or add some weight or make her feet too big? And tell me - would an editor want to make the 'perfect' male character with the good looks, flat abs, lean body and Mensa like intelligence less than all that? I think not. Women are hard on women and we have to bloody stop it. Who cares about shape or weight? I want a good read. I'm not pissed off if the heroine's arse is smaller than mine and her boobs are perky.

The bottom line to me is, no one can tell a writer how their character should be.

Just my opinion but...

2011-11-08T19:34:00.003+10:00

I believe it’s good that doctors, like in the recent trial to do with Michael Jackson's death, are held accountable for their actions. My brother was bi-polar – no I’m not saying Michael Jackson was – I’m saying that people with any sort of mental illness should be treated as people who need to find a solution to their problems and not be constantly handed out prescriptions for drugs that are doing stuff all to help then. Of course they’re going to take the drugs. They’re looking for peace…calm…a release. Saw it all with my brother. Read about it with Michael Jackson. Doctors need and should be held accountable. Justice done.

Who is Craig?

2011-11-08T04:22:00.010+10:00

He's a mad bugger whoever he is.

Scumbags...

2011-11-07T04:00:00.002+10:00

jessica68
Joined: 1 year ago
Files: 700
Folders: 4
Views: 37,457

Welcome to my page! I want to share my stuff with you and hope you will find something useful here. Enjoy my collection and come back again and again, I will do my best to make it always interesting for you. Thank you for your time!

Name: Desislava Chobanova
Age: 42
Country: Bulgaria

I say e-books pirates should be shot then spoken very severely to followed by a flogging. But I’m a moderate…

ATL
Joined: 8 months ago
Files: 713
Folders: 142
Views: 141,335

Welcome to my page! I want to share my stuff with you and hope you will find something useful here. Enjoy my collection and come back again and again, I will do my best to make it always interesting for you. Thank you for your time!

Name: Angel Lindsey
Age: 29
Country: United States

velzevul
Joined: 1 year ago
Files: 1715
Folders: 194
Views: 31,360

Welcome to my page! I want to share my stuff with you and hope you will find something useful here. Enjoy my collection and come back again and again, I will do my best to make it always interesting for you. Thank you for your time!

Name: velzevul
Age: 20
Country: Bulgaria

Not surprisingly none of them have anything original to say. Sad to be so common. Been thinking...maybe authors should unite and hire a private investigator to find out the real identities of these scumbags and then publish those private details and their theiving tendancies along with photos, on the internet..you know, cause these common folk like to share things...

Freak out...

2011-11-06T09:27:00.006+10:00

I was walking back from feeding the turtles – Sunday morning gig – and I took the path back that would allow me to sticky beak at my neighbour’s homes. I live in a new area so the houses are neat and well kept and haven’t got the 40 – 50 year sag to them. The other thing is they have multitudes of plants, garden furniture, elaborate terracotta and glazed garden pots and things like huge ceramic turtles – yes, I must get me one of those - and fountains. All in the front yard. In plain sight. For all to see. In easy reach of light fingered people – yet nothing gets nicked (‘stolen in’ Yankee-speak). It took me a long while to grasp that I could place stuff like that outside the front door and no one would take it. No one. In Brisbane they would nick it in a heart beat. But here? There’s this weird 1950’s respect vibe in the neighbour. People, in family groups, walk together past the houses, chatting and laughing. Kids ride bikes and scooters and chat to each other as they do. Groups of teenagers walk on by giggling. Giggling for god sake. They’re supposed to be swearing and smoking dope and getting pregnant. There are times I swear I have walked into an alternate universe. No, I’m not naïve. My spidey sense is always alert for trouble yet I find nothing to alarm me...spooky.

Of geckos and guns...

2011-11-05T05:07:00.010+10:00

- It’s nice to wake up to find a gecko in you bathroom sink
- Geckos don’t speak when you chat to them
- Why do I always want to blow my nose once I have my boxing gloves on?
- I don’t think you could successfully pick up a gecko when wearing boxing gloves
- Always be wary of those who tell you you’re a ‘gun’. It indicates a huge volume of work coming.
- Point to the paper cut on your finger when you suspect a huge volume of work coming your way.
- Is sex in the city any different to sex in the country other than wearing Manolo Blahniks?
- Do you ever wonder if Manolo Blahnik would have been as successful if he had a normal name?
- Do you think Paris Hilton and that other chick Lohan are upset that the Kardashian person is taking all the limelight?
- Do plastic people think?
- Can you have sex wearing gumboots?
- I don’t think men give a damn what a woman wears. They’re honest in that they prefer naked.
- Ever notice in a gym change room women are careful not to look at other women when naked?
- I haven’t seen a gecko in a change room. What does that say about gecko living preferences?
- Would Manolo Blahnik ever make shoes for geckos?
- Or designer boxing gloves?
- Naked men are lovely to look at but be careful where you put your hands
- Probaby best to wear boxing gloves with naked men

New release!!! Sorta…kinda…ah, well, no…

2011-11-04T05:41:00.003+10:00

So I’ve noticed one particular publisher is releasing old, old books - I can remember when some of these books first came out in 2007 and 2008 - as ‘New releases!’ Yes, sure, they are probably working on the fact that some readers would never have seen those titles before or that some people don’t have good memories. But I have to wonder about a couple of things. If a publisher is doing this then to me it indicates they have dramatically lost authors and what does they say about the company’s stability, internal politics and their long term financial longevity? Then there is the thing about why lie to book buyers and indicate something is new when it’s not? Why not have a section on your front page indicating re-releases and have a re-release price to entice the punters to buy? I guess it comes down to ethics, desperation and the particular shade of grey that you reckon you can get by on and how long you can successfully fool the people.

Who’s responsible?

2011-11-03T05:00:00.004+10:00

That’s what I want to know. They have inflicted this on us and frankly we don’t deserve it. It’s cruel and inhumane punishment and if people just think before they cast their affections then the world would be a safer place. I’m sure you agree. What? You don’t know what I’m talking about? The Kardashian syndrome. Plastic people who somehow – stuffed if I know how – become famous for being trashy and they have a following of people who adore them because…I don’t know why…possibly the followers are on drugs.
Liz, a wise friend of mine, and I discussed how we cannot fathom how the Kashasian Syndrome happens and what sort of women admire these plastic ‘famous’ figures and watch their supposed 'true love weddings' – bullshit – that end in divorce in 72 days. How is that admirable?

Liz made a good point and that is Gay people have to fight for the right to marry yet trailer trash can marry and divorce a gazillion times and spawn heaps of kids and we consider that acceptable in society. Funny, strange arsed world we have. Say no to plastic people and let's stamp out the Kardashian syndrome.

Unbreakable...

2011-11-02T06:15:00.006+10:00

I was looking at the sales on a particular book – thank you to all who have faith and keep buying – and I thought back to the words a particular publisher said to me when I was first starting in the writing gig. She was known for being a ‘bitch’ and enjoying ‘terrifying authors’. Oh yeah, she had power but no class. Wise people use power wisely. Others hide behind it and take jabs at the vulnerable. Anyway, this publisher sent me a ranting email, which I kept, about how the hero of my book was an ‘asshole’ – that’s arsehole to Aussies – and that she basically wanted me to justify them publishing it. My response back was along the lines of publish the arsehole hero book or not. They did. Bullies only win if you allow them and there are a bucket load of them in publishing. Why? Because they use what powers they have to scare an author into conforming to their anal-power-hungry world by threatening not to publish them. And yeah, there are lots of authors out there who are scared a publisher will drop them. There are also authors out there who think fuck you, I’m worth more and I’ll go elsewhere. So they do. My point is? Measure your worth as a person first and a writer second. Are you unbreakable? Can you put up with the tremendous loads of shite diva publishers will dump on you and yet not change who you are as a person? Talent is all well and good but perseverance, a thick skin and a good sense of humour is what will save your arse as a writer.

Bet Me…

2011-11-01T19:29:00.003+10:00

So, today was the ‘race that stops a nation’- and the Melbourne Cup does exactly that – no one works from the lead up to when the horses are put into the barriers – yes, we all become race day experts and know things like barriers and analyse why horses ‘bunch up’ and wonder why women persist in wearing lopsided hats that tilt to one side on their head and give no sun protection whatsoever so what is the point of them? Well? And yes ‘fascinators’ is the right word to explain them because I’m personally fascinated at the chocolate fireguard logic of them….but I digress…So, yeah, all of Australia was watching the running of the Melbourne Cup. It’s quite acceptable and actually expected that everyone bunks off work for an hour to watch the Cup on TV. If they’re not doing that we’re off to the TAB – betting shop - and being mug punters for a day gambling our money away. I went to the TAB on the way back from lunch. I was late so I figured I may as well be really late because no one would give a crap because it was Melbourne Cup day. I had to go through to the bar and place my 3 x $5.00 bets. Picture me in my neat, white, prissy office shirt and handbag hanging out with the hardened beer swilling patrons who understood trifectas and stuff and $5.00 bets are for sissies. Did I win? No. I didn’t expect to. Smart gamblers don’t.

Bit of trivia…they’re seem to be a zillion romance books…ok, maybe a million…with the title Bet Me out there. My point? None. That’s the point of trivia.

Royalties…

2011-10-31T06:24:00.001+10:00

It’s pretty bloody simple. You pay the authors first. Then yourself. It’s not rocket science. I believe if failed publishers had considered this philosophy before they started dipping their hands into the till they would not be failed. But then it’s all about life experience – some people are screw ups no matter what they do – and honour – some people were born without that trait and think nothing wrong with screwing others over.

Royalties. You publish books. You pay the authors. You bank the balance. Can it get any simpler?

Who says?

2011-10-30T05:00:00.001+10:00

Rick: Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.

So I got an email from a writer colleague who was bemoaning the fact that she read a story by another writer we know and that writer had the characters declaring their love almost straight away ‘and how stupid is that?’ I don’t know how stupid that is. My understanding is there is no rhyme or reason to love and people can fall in love in a second, six weeks or six months from next Tuesday. Who says there has to be a time limit? And why can’t characters in a book fall in love fast?

I look at it this way. Romance books are fantasy. We all want to believe there is this man who will be so gob-smackingly overcome by our beauty and talent that once he gets over his speechlessness at how fantastic, smart and sexy we are he will declare his love for us within an hour of meeting us because to do anything else would be beyond him. Seems logical to me.

Ilsa: Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.

On at Saturday, I know the following...

2011-10-29T07:39:00.005+10:00

- Persistence does pay off
- Don’t listen to nitwits. It just wastes your time
- Women don’t need balls. We have boobs and they are way more powerful
- Sex as a weapon is considered politically incorrect. Says who? Use what you got I say
- Sometimes you just have to read the instructions for no other reason than you can later say ‘but I did read the instructions. Do you think I’m silly?’
- Never say ‘do you think I’m silly’ as you pretty much have answered that question
- Run the Gauntlet is much better than Run the Gantlet. The latter sounds like a bunch of ducks running
- Divas are not always right. I like to point that out to them. You know who you are
- I must get me a duck
- Or some chooks
- The laundry always awaits you on a Saturday morning
- I’m not sure a duck or a chook does
- When all else fails, rely on yourself and know that you will never steer yourself wrong as no one loves you like you do

Unacceptable…

2011-10-28T06:00:00.003+10:00

http://www.news.com.au/technology/gaming/the-game-that-makes-a-sport-out-of-beating-prostitutes-with-sex-toys/story-e6frfrt9-1226178720344

When news.com.au asked Barker why there's an option to chase a woman down the street, leapfrog her, punch her in the face then kick her in the groin - he told us it's a war out there.

"I think there's a perfectly good reason as to why people might punch people in the face – there's all kinds of missions," he said.

"We can definitely go down the philosophical rabbit hole, you could ask why Mario does something when he goes to save the Princess," Barker said.

Except that Mario doesn't bash call girls with a giant rubber penis.
"There's all kinds of weapons and we wanted something that was fun and crazy. There's a story to the game that definitely keeps it grounded," Barker said.

Yes, you may say it’s just a dumb game but you have to remember that there are some dumb, naïve, creepy, anti-social people out there whose reality is to play these games and some of them take them so seriously that they mimic what happens in that game in real life. Punching women in the face? Kicking her in the groin? How is this entertainment? And because the woman is labelled as a prostitute? She’s still a woman and a human being and she is not less so because of the job she does.

This is so wrong and anyone who views punching women in the face as just a game has serious issues. As for his ‘philosophical rabbit hole’ one could say he has his head up his arse and his thoughts come from there. Beating women with a 'giant rubber penis'? Where the hell do these people come from?

Violence against women – even in a stupid game – is wrong and unacceptable.

Angel Face - All Romance Ebooks

2011-10-27T06:16:00.002+10:00

Angel Face - All Romance Ebooks

Angel...tattooed guy...the devil...bound to be trouble...

Ne're do wells...

2011-10-26T05:54:00.006+10:00

When I was visiting my father in hospital last week, he complained that there was no clock in the room. I went and bought one for him. When I came back the nurse said to me “Would you believe someone stole the clock off the wall?” My father and I just looked at each other and smiled. A long time ago when my grandmother was in hospital, there was an uproar as both a clock and a mat went missing. All my relatives looked innocent and I’ll be loyal and say they most probably were…sorta…kinda...you know, possibly innocent. We have some light fingered, ne’re do wells 'opportunists' in the Jones family but then everyone has strange relatives. No, I’ve never stolen a clock on a wall. I’m too short.

Family. You can love ‘em, fight ‘em, ignore ‘em, hide and pretend you’re not home when they arrive, bail ‘em out of jail or wonder if you’re adopted but they’re there and a writer can always use ‘em in a story.

Unrequited love...

2011-10-25T04:00:00.000+10:00

Unrequited love. There’s something sad, noble and in some cases just so bloody stupid about falling in love with someone you can never have. But people do. They can’t help themselves and we like to read about it or watch it in movies. I reckon the reason we find it interesting is we wonder what we would do in the same situation. Does he love her? Does she need him? Is there a possibility they could ever be? Should he/she throw away the current relationship because the passion felt for another is so overwhelming that not being with them would be wrong? Or is it just that – wildfire passion that will burn itself out so why give up on a stable relationship? I believe it’s the unfathomables of why two people – totally diverse – find passion and the fact you can love more than one person in your life, that interests us. Love. It’s a bitch of a thing and yet we still do it. Go figure.

Sex with your story…

2011-10-24T04:54:00.007+10:00

…or story with your sex? Sometimes too much sex does not fit a story. Yes. Shock. Horror. If the hero and heroine are not fucking like bunnies in the most bizarre ways then the story can’t be much good can it? Ah, no, that would be wrong. Sex is good but a plot is golden I think it’s much harder to write a story with plot and less sex than a sexed up story with two/three/57sexual partners who have been bonking each other silly and you’re reading it and thinking what they hell is this story about other than sex and is anyone going to be able to walk straight tomorrow? Yes, my hand goes up. I have written books with a high sexual content. They are what the realistic call in the business ‘fuck books’ and not great literature as the unrealistic is-my-book-number-one-please-vote-for-me-or-die would call them.

Yes, yes, yes, sex in books is fantasy and generally bizarre and improbable and we like to wonder what he will do to her next and are his friends going to join in and what’s that the tattooed one carrying in his hand and is it legal but who cares as long as there is enough batteries. Fantasy. It’s wondrous. Reality. I would bet my arse, and I have a lot of arse to bet so it’s a sure thing, that 97.5% of readers want to read about love and emotion. Sure, sex completes those feelings. While you can be in love forever, I doubt you can be in sex forever…but what do I know?

Things I know on a Sunday morning...

2011-10-23T07:17:00.005+10:00

- nothing smells as good as the rainforest

- fish will eat stale white bread
- I can lean on the railings of the bridge and watch said fish for hours

- There were no turtles today. Life is like that. You don’t always get turtles

- The area known as The Rocks has bloody big rocks in the water. Fair enough
- Whomever said ‘life is what you make it’ knew what they were talking about

1 Comment: Anny Cook said....

2011-10-21T18:13:00.005+10:00

Everyone is afraid of being hurt...

Yes, but nothing is ever achieved without fear and the possibility of pain. The older I get the more I think 'Fuck it, I'm going for gold.'