Showing posts with label Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romance. Show all posts

Monday, August 27, 2012

Perfect Wants and Enlightening Needs

Reality

When I'm writing a romance I try and keep a few concepts mutually exclusive. The concepts are what people want in a relationship and what they need.  We'll call them perfect 'want' and enlightening 'need'. I've never really believed that these ideas coincide. But in the world of romance they must go hand and hand because you're not just telling a heart love story, you're telling a head love story and the characters being together has to make sense to the reader before they do to the characters.  Keeps the reader.. . reading if for no other reason than to have the "I told you so!" moment at the end. I want my readers to feel like these characters are friends of theirs that for some reason haven't figured it out yet.

Fables Cover
Great comic series that reinvents fairytales
I always wanted to write a more realistic version of the love story and not the inexplicable clusterfuck some of our fairytales are. Which fairytales are the beginning of the perfect 'want' concept in my opinion. So he's rich, he's a prince and he wants that little step kid. .. nah. So I make sure my characters at least hint to these ideas in past relationships.  I wanted this but this person wasn't who I thought they were is another way of saying you never really knew them.  You in essence projected your ideas and thoughts onto them until the costume you dressed them in fell off.

The issue comes with desire, want, satisfaction, and need.  We are currently a society that focuses on want, desire, satisfaction, and yet we usually frown on need. The feeling of saying and thinking it leaves many of us with the sour taste of getting good socks for Christmas instead of toys as children. We didn't want the socks we needed, we wanted the Tonka truck (And yes I know I'm a girl, but I really did!).

We all have different ways of understanding ourselves through these urges. Some of us have taught ourselves to ignore or quell them, others to go in full hog. It asserts itself in how and why we begin relationships with each other. Whether friendly, romantic, business, we have an idea of what we would like to accomplish with someone else and how they should respond in certain situations. But in many cases, such as personal relationships, we have a tendency to overlook and downplay actions and attitudes of a person because they fit a 'mold' of who we want to be seen as in a relationship with, instead of just understanding that their mold really doesn't fit our mold.

Oh yeah Mr. Tonka truck!
I think in love especially people go after what they believe they want in a relationship and ignore a lot of what life has shown them they need.  That stable nice guy just feels like Christmas socks and Bad boy McGee over there, Tonka truck all the way. Just a loose example. I won't say one sex will do it more or less than another but certain personalities will justify any activity sometimes to maintain this idea of a perfect 'want' all the while ignoring enlightening 'need'.

So what is perfect 'want'. I have always made the concept of perfect 'want'an attainable fantasy.  This means that while we all have this fantasy life that contains our perfect everything, we all know deep down inside that this person is a myth.  They are in fact a fantasy.  So instead we have the concept of perfect 'want'. This is the person that is just close enough that you can forgive pretty much any henious actions or crimes to be with them.  But at the end of the day, the issue is not who they are, its' who you want them to be. Their actions notwithstanding, the person who is in love with their perfect 'want' is wooed by the idea that they have their perfect person.  It stands because they so badly want this person to be perfect so in essence they become that in their eyes.

Hey Cat!
But hidden in the closet of perfect 'want' is the inability to sometimes be perfectly honest with yourself.  Most people have a list of activities and characteristics they believe the perfect person for them should have.  I think most people should shove that away for a minute and find out what attributes the perfect person for you should have in your mother's eyes, or your best friend.  The people who actually love you as you are in a none romantic sense. Because if at no point in time does the characteristics you set and someone who knows you well sets line up..  there is a problem and you will find yourself to be very susceptible to flights of perfect 'want'.

Want?
Flights of perfect 'want' end in tragedy usually.  It's hard to make relationships with an idea work because the idea isn't an idea, it's a human being and sooner or later who they are will rip free from the idea. There are occasions when everything lines up and people actually find the idea person who is actually the right person. No fuss, no muss, together forever. But I write romance so that doesn't make for a very interesting story.  What I like to write about and what I find more interesting is enlightening 'need'.

Well if you're thinking enlightening 'need' is the opposite of perfect 'want' then you are already thinking correctly about it. Enlightening 'need' is the opposite.  This is the person that somehow manages to make you see them and through them, yourself. If perfect 'want' is the attainable fantasy then enlightening 'need' is the fleeting reality. That person looks a lot more like who your mother would pick, or your best friend. But this is a reality that you have to know because sometimes friends and family can be blinded by their own ideas of perfect 'want' for you and have not acknowledged your enlightening 'need'. Its not a logical thought or choice but an internal sense of knowing.  Sometimes you can't connect any reason why they are the one.  They just are. Somehow without being told they know what you really need and provide it whether you want it or not.

Enlightenment
For every person, just like the perfect 'want' it's different. It is a process that is discovered over time because nooks and crannies need to fit.  I'm not talking about tab A slot B, I mean that's nice too, but the other things need to fit first.  And not what you would choose to fit, but the things that you have to begrudgingly admit must fit. Because you'll be amazed at how well tab A and slot B fit together when you line everything else up first and see if they mesh. You can change your mind about where you live, not about who you are.

It seems in the end the difference lies in the proof and that's in the pudding.

Hmm pudding.. I digress.



The proof lies in your heart, not your mind because the impossible doesn't make sense until after it's done. (wink)

Grab one of my books as a how-to guide and get out there and get what you need.


Photo Credits:

Reality courtesy of: http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1332/1190818714_59b75ec2c2.jpg

Fables Cover courtesy of: http://media.dcentertainment.com/sites/default/files/book-covers/2361_400x600.jpg

Tonka truck courtesy of: http://jesda.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/wpid-tonka-large-vintage-very-old-metal-tonka-dump-truck_320621611820-2011-02-10-01-08.jpg

Hey Cat! courtesy of: http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/c48.0.403.403/p403x403/297068_434802666558608_1960376484_n.jpg

Want? courtesy of: http://imgc.allpostersimages.com/images/P-473-488-90/61/6150/GQCG100Z/posters/leo-cullum-they-don-t-keep-you-on-a-leash-because-they-want-you-to-run-away-cartoon.jpg

Enlightenment courtesy of: http://nickstlee.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/i_love_you____pon_and_zi_by_ladyselena.jpg

Pudding courtesy of: http://free-extras.com/images/pudding-5712.htm

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Shriven


That angry scowl on your face
That bitter touch in your embrace
That dismissive air of mild disgust
The inherent joy in your newfound lust

The smell of me you now must hide
My broken face, your obvious pride
These prison walls that once was a home
Filled with the sounds of your whore’s moan

Denied my dignity, stripped of my heart
Expected to be a robot, feelings that stop and start

Blamed for the rage, blamed for the pain
Everything wrong was laced with my name

Never defended myself from the planned coup
I was still too busy fighting for you
So you hated my love surviving the rend
So you needed to show me a hell without end

Take this love and throw it away
Put it down it has no place here today
You silly girl and foolish child
No one loves and my care was mild
You stupid girl and wasteful burden
You were never someone I would defend
You lack of charm and a woman’s grace
Just a boy with a girl’s face
Your company is lacking and your appeal is false
Leaving you was no real loss

Behind the words lived the truth
Never deserved the love that soothed
Fear was to know true joy
Not worthy of a love that was without ploy
Run away before I take from you
All that makes your love so true
I’ll strip your heart, wreck your soul
And then you’ll join me in the cold
Take your smile and laugh away
Nothing worthy here to make you stay
On this pedestal I’ll preserve your grace
No man again will mar the beauty of this face

Trapped in silver, encased in ice
Only she feels the true sacrifice
Away from harm, away from pain
Away from fear, penalty, and blame
On her tower oh so high, she knows no touch, standing apart
Only comfort offered by the waning glow of her dying heart
Far from anything that could reignite the flame
The parts that die out shatter to not even leave pain
An island to herself, so he may atone
She suffers the cold death of being alone
The pedestal of care, built in praise
Will see her hurried to her end of days
Skin like ice, soul slipping away infused with the lie
Knowing the whole time, without the touch of love even the warmest heart will die

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Excerpt from Charlotte's Chance

Charlotte left her office locking the front door with her purse held high on her shoulder.  She made it to the elevator, and frowned as the door opened just as she was about to press the down button.  The blonde haired wiry man inside didn’t move immediately, but the look he leveled at her from his narrow blue eyes said volumes to what he intended if she boarded.  Charlotte took two steps back, and the man bolted from the back of the elevator.  She turned, and ran for the stairwell. 
He was right behind her having cleared the elevator successfully. Almost in surround sound she could hear the heavy fall of his feet behind her.  No matter how much she wanted to, she didn’t look back as she burst through the door into the stairwell.  The stairwell was stark white, and went down in a circular motion almost.  You could look over the edge of the handrails, and see the three floors below.
Charlotte knew that she couldn’t just flat out run the man so she threw her weight against the door she had just burst through. She heard the man’s bellow of pain from getting his arm hinged in the door.  Frantically Charlotte dug through her purse for her keys as the door started to push her into the corner behind it.  She pulled the pepper spray, and guessed where to aim.  Sticking her arm around the door she sprayed in circles hoping that it was somewhere near the asshole’s eyes.
The pressure on the door eased, and she heard the cursing, and yelling indicating that she had guessed right.  Rushing past the man wiping his eyes at the door she started flying down the stairs as fast as she could using the handrails for leverage as she hopped the corners.   Just like she used to do when she was younger, and trying to outrun her older, longer legged brother.  She almost tripped over her own two feet in her haste to get away.  Behind her were the solid thuds of his feet hitting the steps a beat or two after her.
She reached the first floor, and was about to head out to get help from Harold.  But the door flew open as she jumped the last two steps to the landing.  Thomas in his ball cap, and oversized clothes filled the space shoving her forcefully into the corner of the space behind him, and closing the doorway in the same motion.  Charlotte watched in dazed car wreck fashion as Thomas used the man’s flight to run him into the closed door.  His now limp body fell with a crash to the ground.   Thomas flipped out his cell phone, dialed a number, and then put it on the ground.  In a practiced gesture he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, fell to one knee, and cuffed the man lying on the ground before them in seconds.  Then his golden eyes lanced Charlotte’s from beneath the brim of his plain brown low worn hat.
In the next moment he leaned over to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist as one large hand pushed against the wall behind her.  He stood up smoothly pulling her to her feet, and out of the corner. The action brought her body nearly flush with his.  Her nostrils flared filling with the scents that comprised him at that moment.  A heady musky masculine smell mixed with the scents of the air, and grass outside.  It pulled her in, this strange mix of man, rain, and freshly cut grass.
“Are you alright?”  His silky voice poured over her huskily as he slid his other arm around her waist.  His fingertips were just a hair’s breath away from her bare skin as they ruched the turtleneck sweater that she hadn’t bothered to tuck back in up a little.
The bulky heels of her boots gave her enough height that the top of her head was level with his eyes.  She nodded, tilting her head up so her eyes couldn’t leave his.  Her arms were pressed between their bodies putting her elbows in her gut, and crowding her hands under her chin. The most natural thing in the world to do was flatten her palms against the warmth and solid comfort of his chest.  The second she placed her hands on him though, he pushed her away.
“Don’t say anything to the guard. Go home. I’ll meet you there.” He said urgently his eyes searching her face as he pushed her beyond the circle of his arms.  Oddly he pushed a wisp of her hair out of her eyes then shoved her out of the stairwell door.
Charlotte tried to carry on like she hadn’t just run down four flights of stairs from a mad man that was trying to do God knows what to her.  She passed by Harold, and stopped, coming back.  He would think it was odd if she didn’t speak to him.
“I hope that the call I sent up did you some good Miss Charlotte.”
A bubble of nervous laughter pealed from Charlotte. “Yes it did. Thank you so much for that.”
The weathered mustached man nodded satisfied. “Glad to help. You have a good one.”
She started away not really sure she was actually pulling this off.  “You too Harold. I’m on vacation so I won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”
The weathered face broke into a grin that made him look ten years younger. “Have a great time Miss Charlotte. Hard working woman like you; it’s good to get away every once in a while.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she muttered as she passively watched two men in suits enter the stairwell. 
After a few moments her eyes briefly connected with the intense golden gaze of Thomas Glendel. Smoothly he walked away from the stairwell, and out of the lobby door with the ease of air, and without one hint of wasted effort or motion.  Oddly it made her recall the way he had handled Deborah in the hospital.  Then Charlotte had likened him to a jaguar, all sinew, and tightly corded muscle. 
In the stairwell he had lifted her almost deadweight from the floor with an ease that attested to the power he held in that tightly coiled frame.  Then add the fact that he himself hadn’t even been stabilized when he’d done it.  He had pushed her away like they were strangers, and nearly in the same instant pushed that strand of hair from her eyes as if they had known each other forever.  What an odd and interesting man.  The thought was repeated from when he had walked her back from the hospital parking lot with Sandra’s luggage.
“Bye Harold.” Charlotte turned, and followed the oddity out.


Get Charlotte's Chance on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, or Smashwords

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Happy Valentine's Day

Single male looking for the right lady . . .click. I know how to show a lady a good time . . . click. Looking for a sweet down to earth girl. . . .click. Look no further I’m . . .click. Nice guy with a . . . .click. Looking for . . . click. All you need. . . .click. Take a look. . . .click. I am all . . . click. I need. . .click. I want . . . click. I desire. . . click I. . . click. I. . .click. I. . . .click.

“Shut up!!!” she finally yelled at the screen blinking back at her. With a sense of growing despair she threw her head into her hands. “There is nothing attractive about beginning with what you want.” Now empowered by rage, and not caring who knew it, she penned the online ad that she would like to read.

Opening line, she thought to herself, and then her fingers flew across the keyboard. “Just in case. . .”

Body : “You are tired of every other ad talking about what the man wants. . . I’m going to ask . . .what do you want?

“Let’s be honest. Who cares if I have a six pack, am dashingly good looking in that soap opera way? Who cares if I have a well paying job and a car, house, boat, insert whatever random possessions here that make you feel good? Who cares if I like walks in the rain, snuggling with the right girl? Who cares if I always root for the underdog and stand up for my female friends? Who cares if I fall in love quickly, passionately, deeply, and won’t be shy about admitting it? Who cares that when I am in that state all I see is how beautiful you are? And who cares that I fell for you for who you are, and not what I think you can do for me, my reputation or my appearance? And who cares that this means that no matter what, I will always love you?

I don’t, because it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans if you aren’t there to show me the depth of you. I don’t, if you aren’t around to show me what I am capable of. I don’t, if your strength isn’t there to push me. If your femininity isn’t there to make me desire to be more. Challenging me with every vibrant breath you take, every passionate declaration and naïve expectation. I don’t, if your eyes aren’t on me loving me because of me, despite me. What on earth does my opinion of myself matter if I am the only one that believes it? I know self-esteem is necessary, but how can you find who would stand beside you, outside of you, if you never look outside of yourself?

I’m sorry that we’ve missed the point for so long now. Always wondering what to give, what present, what thought, what trinket or comment to temporarily sedate you into staying. When all this time all you have ever wanted is all of who we are. Good or bad, whether for this moment or always. As much as we are willing to give. And foolishly, without fail, we meet the one woman we can give all to and run away before memories can even be made. Forgive our weakness and accept this one man upon the alter of your mercy. For I will sacrifice all of who I am to one woman for the sake of us all.”

She took a long deep breath and reread her words. Once, twice. . . a few times more and imagined what this man would look like. Then she knew that it didn’t matter. This creature was a creation, merely an artifice of her own vivid imagination. Something that she would have to let go of if she ever wanted to allow an actual man in her life. She knew what men were. Not a one of them could reproduce what she had just penned.

With a sigh she headed back to the dating ads and realized that while she had been writing her own ad, someone had tried to contact her. The title of the message was, “In case you were wondering.” She blinked hard at the screen and clicked it open.

“I didn’t write you to tell you how much your profile sounds like everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m writing you to say that I haven’t ever specified or even known what I’ve wanted in a woman. I just know that if I ever had, it would most likely be you. Whoever it is I find on the other end of those words. In just a conversation, I might give all of me to all of you. What a tragically odd realization to have about a stranger.”

Tears pricked her eyes as she read the message. She clicked respond and typed. “Not exactly right, but close enough that I’m listening.”

With a sense of wonder, a hair of disbelief and an inkling that the Almighty was trying to teach her a lesson she was still stubborn about learning, she clicked send.

Monday, December 19, 2011

What your parents can’t tell you about interracial dating


The truth is interracial dating is a lot more like all other forms of dating than some people would like to admit.  And maintaining an interracial relationship is still about the same things that none interracial dating is about.  Two people deciding if they can commit to each other.  Everything else is media driven hype.  Personally I’m not completely for or against interracial relationships, gay relationships, or hetero relationships between members of the same ‘race’.  I am on the side of love and love being able to infuse tolerance in all relationships regardless of the over reaching societal implications to forming a relationship. 

I find it interesting that everyone is willing to admit that interracial relationships suffer more problems than a same race relationship.  The fascinating part is all the reasons that are stated as to why that is that have nothing to do with the REAL reason why.  During this litany of reasons people will list things like suffering from the discrimination of others and what you will put your poor children through.

Stats
Ask someone why they are against interracial relationships and they will probably tell you all the things ‘other’ people will put you through.  Seeing as most of these people offering this helpful advice have usually not been in interracial relationships I find myself believing that they are telling you what they have put other people through.  Trust me, once you are in only one interracial relationship the knowledge carried away makes the experience worth it. Only someone who has not had a true caring relationship with someone of another race can hold on to the idea that these should not be seen out.  And usually in their descriptors for the ills of interracial relationships they refuse to even admit the real reason.  There is only one, ignorance.  Ignorance breeds hate, confusion, lies and ultimately untested theories of truth.

Family
The truth is that if your family has lived in America for a certain number of years in certain locales you like I have interracial relationships to thank for your current existence.  Therefore I think the lowest and most villainous reason people will ever give you is the aspect that you are somehow hurting potential future children by being in an interracial relationship. This is the lowest form of manipulation because it takes advantage of the idea that people want to put their children in the best possible position to achieve and live a full life.  The truth is only useless people live uninteresting lives that have enabled them to never confront with any adversity.  Without conflict children cannot become strong enough to deal with the pangs of life.  They instead become people who don’t understand how to deal when life deals them a rough hand and they have a hard time recovering.  If nothing else being of a multiracial identity builds perseverance, self- reliance and a need to develop a strong self-identity.

Often enough people who have been in interracial relationships will cite one more thing.  This thing is the way the couple actually relates to race with each other. Because race exists as a social construct the members of the couple will often have ingrained ideas that are a reflection of their thoughts on race.  More often than not the person that is willing to date outside of their race is also the person least willing to deal with the implications of race in the world.  They will often ignore and admonish the other party for being too sensitive while that party will criticize and judge the other for not being sensitive enough.  The bigger issue with this is the fact that both are actually so sensitive to the race issue that they make what other people perceive the entire focus of the relationship.  When actually it should bare as much weight as choosing a place to have dinner. That is where maturity comes in.

I will be the first to admit interracial dating does have issues that same race relationships don’t have.  The number one issue is whether or not the participants are mature enough to deal with a society that isn’t mature enough for open none guilt laden interracial dating.  The most damning and hurtful aspect to this is finding out the truth about the people you love.  Because in the course of even contemplating this as a choice you will learn beyond a shadow of a doubt where the people you love stand.  It doesn’t matter how ‘open’ the bulk of your friends and family are, someone in your immediate life will have a problem with it.  The people involved have to determine from point jump if being with this person is worth the potential drama proposed by others outside of the relationship.  This branches out to friends, co-workers, and casual strangers.  Yes you will notice a difference in how people treat you.  And if that isn’t enough to make you understand how alive and well racism still is then you need to give it a shot just to see.  Take minute and understand the nature of your privilege.

Hands
The issue with race is that it somehow negates something that is always present in relationships. With human beings comes opinions and people will judge whom you are with regardless of what they bring or don’t bring to the table.  People find issues with class, gender, ableism, you name it.  Some people will even complain about television and music preferences.  The bottom line is that no matter who you are with, there is going to be someone in your life who doesn’t really like them or the fact that you are together.  Maturity determines how much you let that dictate who is right for you and who isn’t.  In the end all those other people aren’t there and can’t really determine what is best for you.  Only you can do that.

Race is an insidious thing because it is solely dependent on perception.  Most times as many online ‘identify the race’ simulations prove, you can’t really tell what ‘race’ someone is by their appearance alone.  The human genome project has ventured into a wide array of explanations regarding this and why assumptions about personality, work ethic, or morality cannot be judged by the color of a person’s skin.  All human life on earth right now can be traced to a male and female ancestor in Africa.  This is not theorized or presumed, this is science. This is fact.

We as people have different experiences that have shaped us.  Many of these experiences have racial overtones because of the country that we live in.  We are all shaped by only watching bad racial stereotypes in our media, by accepting casual racism as a fact of life, and by not speaking up when unfair discrimination is taking place.  Every time you look away in the guise of ‘this isn’t a big deal’ is when you let it win.  When you don’t take something seriously that has the potential to hinder another person’s liberties and civil rights then you let it win. Because you aren’t personally exposed to this treatment does not mean it doesn’t exist.  In case you haven’t noticed racial demographics change every day.  When does the day come that you are the one being visited with this treatment that you choose to ignore?  Stop ignoring it, deal with it, and be the change that we all need to see.

Stats courtesy of http://www.pewsocialtrends.org/files/legacy/68-interior.gif

Family Courtesy of http://www.thegrio.com/assets_c/2010/04/celebs_interracial_marriages_proves_grass_not_greener_on_other_side-thumb-400xauto-8484.jpg

Hands Courtesy of http://multiamerican.scpr.org/files/2011/03/hands-300x423.jpg

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Celebrity Crisis


Confidence
I feel like I need to start this blog with a disclaimer because I'm going to talk about things that need to be clearly identified as not belonging to each other.  They are the differences between confidence and self-absorption. I am all about confidence.  Everyone should have it and everyone should display it.  I've been told I'm in fact much too modest.  Trust me I do this on purpose because the megalomaniacal beast that I hold at bay daily is no cake walk I assure you.  I try to channel that through my characters.  Let them be larger than life and I can just be me. 


I suppose I find myself wondering about the state of wealth and celebrity.  The wealthy are pretty obscure.  Very few people even know the names of the wealthiest people in the world.  They couldn't pick them out in a crowd, and can't easily identify their names in print or vocalized.  However celebrity is all the rage.  People can identify a celebrity without even trying, thus they become the image that is often associated with the wealthy.  Even pop cultural anarchists like myself can tell you a few basic tenets of modern pop culturalization. 

The best way to get press is to get caught doing something amoral by 'good' American citizen standards.  As an entertainer it is nearly impossible to not eventually do something that other people disapprove of.  Never underestimate the ability of people to do two things, misunderstand, and then judge what they never understood. The irony is that the best way to keep fame is to then somehow transcend what got people's attention in the first place. Which I believe is that crucial step between confidence and self-absorption. It’s 'I got away with it' syndrome.  It leads to a life of 'getting away with it' and expecting to always do so.  This is when the first inkling of "I'm better than you starts" to really cement itself.

Remember this story? I do!
Self-absorption starts with that one basic idea.  I am better than you.  Every case of it stems from that one primary thought. I've had brief brushes with celebrity and I hated it.  I hated it because this entity of celebrity can somehow prevent and hinder the ability of making true connections. My life has no meaning without true connections to other people.  It was hard for me to tell the difference between the truth as it was, and the truth as it was being presented as.  The biggest favor I ever did for myself was to discover the difference.  From time to time I still slip up.  But with less people involved in the process to snow me over for their own gain, it’s easier than it could've been.

The only aspect of celebrity that I didn't mind was the idea that financial woes would cease for myself and those I loved. However at what point does your financial success when combined with the specter of celebrity make you not see anything beyond yourself.  To be successful in any industry a certain level of personal choice and compliance has to be given up.  To be successful in a performance based industry this is multiplied by 10 because usually you aren't talking about just a job.  You are talking about doing something you are passionately in love with to a degree that it is a part of you.  You need it to exist more than you need breath. Sometimes that peak is very far away. So far in fact that people have to convince themselves beyond what is actually true to reach it.  Which means you have to negate reality as it is and replace it with one of your own (shameless Mythbusters steal).

So I test drove it.  This new reality for me was dark. It was filled with pitfalls and attacks.  An unending landscape of fire pits and terrifying creatures ready to snap your head off for fun.  I explore this idea more in a romance I'm writing featuring a Hollywood movie producer and a grassroots painter. It explores how alike they are yet how their choices made them seem so different from each other. Working on this again made me think about my own peccadilloes with fame, celebrity, and the price that I thought was too high to pay for the promise of money, glory, and popularity.

Overconfidence
I've never thought well of celebrities or people who needed and wanted fame.  That is my prejudice developed from people I've met and known in my past in addition to my disgust at the assumption they made that I was in fact just like them. I made assumptions about them based on my value system.  As unfair as that is, I do it because I realize they have done the same. The truth is I am just like them, we all are.  Some of us just channel it differently. But the core that makes someone choose to pursue fame and choose not to are basically identical.  The need to associate, develop, and ultimately belong to something. Always trying to find the formula to a happy fulfilling life. We just make different choices as to how to fulfill our core.

Celebrity Weddings
There were things that I attached to celebrity and fame because the actions others encouraged me to propagate in order to achieve it left very obvious victims. I never wanted to believe it was okay to look down on people.  I never wanted to think that some people just deserve less because I was able to achieve something considered 'more'.  I never wanted to be able to justify making ridiculous amounts of money and not starting a charity.  I never wanted my need to express my talent to mean more than human decency, kindness, and empathy.

The point is I never wanted to be able to ignore another person because I thought I was better than them.  I always think about the people who I know now that I most likely would not have met had I chosen a different path and what a grave loss that would be in my life.  Most importantly I never wanted to wrap myself in that cynical cocoon I was developing that didn't even allow grace in.  I wanted to remain human enough to understand the importance of humility. To ultimately keep the magic of meeting special people that the world for whatever reason ignores.  That feeling of discovering this perfect meadow that has somehow remained untainted by the filth of the world.

Yes this is that car
When I see that some rapper has blown $370,000 to destroy a car in a music video I cringe at what I could've become.  When a musician refuses to do a charity concert because they aren't getting paid I wonder why do they need more money.  They already have more than they need to live well. When I see music, art, dance leaving schools and very few of the people who benefitted from these programs care enough to do something about it, I wonder how can they claim to love what they do if they don't care enough to make sure that it always exists.  You can hear it in everything they do. I am better than you. And all I can think is I no longer care about anything you do.

Why?
Why does celebrity lead to this 'us versus them' mentality no matter what type of fame it is? This 'I as a celebrity cannot be bothered by you a regular person' nonsense.  I've meet people that aren't like that, but the majority abide by and prefer this separation that is in essence contributing to the class war that the wealthy is waging.  The extremely wealthy are using celebrity as their front line fodder. Celebrities bear the brunt of the criticisms for overt wealth and wealth flaunting practices. If celebrities would take a moment, and just be with 'regular' people they would be moved to discuss their plight and be less villianized.  But in this country our celebrities are sometimes even worse than our politicians.  Because for entertainment careers being a savvy politician is necessary for success.

Love word clouds
The question I could never answer, and was too afraid of losing myself to confront was this.  Is it even possible to retain any empathy, compassion, or reality when fame is your reality?  What would lead a character who is being victimized by his own fame into understanding the plight of a person on the other end of life?  In this case I choose magic.  A witch to be exact.  I wonder how their story will end?  Coming soon. . . .

Confidence courtesy of: http://danpetrosini.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/confidence.jpg





Word Cloud courtesy of: http://www.compassnt.com/Compassion_Quotes.html

Celebrity Weddings courtesy of:

Monday, March 21, 2011

Oh Impossible Love


"Did I hear you right?" I glanced up at him at the question. 

Did I hear you right, he asks.  As I stare into eyes the color of which I could not phantom; the depth of which I wouldn't dare to describe.  Did he hear me right he wants to know?  And I openly wonder what does he think he heard.

I'm told when other people are in the presence of two people in the middle of an untenable connection a few things happen.  The moment seems oddly long, and you find yourself wondering why they are just standing there staring at each other.  There is a distinct sound in the air that resembles a bell, and of course the room sizzles with the intensity of it.

Well from the other end something else happens.  Absolutely nothing except quiet, peace and the lack of coherent thought. The closest to heaven any mortal being can ever be. Sweet, sweet oblivion.  Because in a moment that lasts an eternity yet is as brief as a breath, an entire lifetime is lived.  And not a single moment is voiced in a word. It's softer, simpler, and doesn't even require a thought.  Instead it is an action; straightforward, and vivid.  So startling that it knocks the mind on its ear.  So intense it suspends time and space.  So intrusive it halts involuntary bodily functions. Because what has happened is beyond human comprehension.  It is the unbound, uncontrollable essence of love itself, and cannot be conceived by the rudimentary senses of a mere mortal.  Wielded by she who is beyond a goddess, Fate herself, with an unthinking blink of her elusive eyes.  For a second, that I'm sure I imagined, I see the flash of them in his.

What a taunting evil thing it is.  The mere faint whisper of what can truly never be. She weaves this wicked thing that is beyond man and beyond this place letting hapless mortals catch a glimpse of its grace, its majesty.  Just enough to want it. Just enough to know it exists. Enabling the knowing. Enabling each and every man, woman, and child going to their graves never even knowing the slightest taste of what she ordains and wills into their lives with nothing more than a fleeting glance.

"Did you hear me right?" He cautiously amends at my lack of response.

If I close my eyes I can hear her laughter, because while we can't understand her words, she will always endear us the pleasure of her amusement. Why else would she bring such a thing as instant kismet into being?  It must be for the amusement of herself and her court. For all it does is plague mankind leaving us wanting and wishing to be all that we can never be. For love is faith, and faith gives rise to hope, and in hope man can do all.

Accept for this moment.  This instance of reality that is beyond our thought, beyond our comprehension, beyond our ability to recreate. It is her domain and her domain alone.  And she hoards her power selfishly knowing what arrogance would befall man were he able to manufacture what is so simple for her to induce. This miracle that has restructured worlds.  This transplendent point that has reshaped destiny. It seems so carelessly wrought, but how else should such a force be managed?

I look into his eyes and whisper without my voice, a couple of words. Said before in the breath, the eternity, the blink, the lifetime, the instant we touched. My Love.

He smiles down at me returning the acknowledgement, "That's what I thought you said."

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Cover Wars

As a recently self published author, I am trying to navigate the slippery slope that is designing the book covers. I was a graphic designer for 5 years, and trained as a studio artist for 4 years before that. Needless to say creating imagery is not foreign to me, and I find it a pleasing way to spend my time. So I have a tendency to conceptualize a cover in an obscure fashion that does not readily label one of my books as being of a certain genre.

I find that as a romance writer there are some cover expectations that I just don't prescribe to. I don't like the 'disembodied' male chest shots. I believe your hero should have more than just a great set of pecks. He shouldn't be hard on the eyes, but I find those covers to be a little objectifying. I'm for liberation on both sides so I don't see how objectifying the male makes for a great read. With this on the table I've been battling with crying defeat, and creating the romance generic cover with the 'disembodied' male parts and such.

However I believe that representing my novels in this way is misleading. Yes my focus is romance, but the crux of my stories are about highlighting acceptance, compromise, and understanding. I try and focus on the emotional exchange between two people, and the things that bind people beyond physical attraction. I think once a reader gets into one of my novels expecting a certain level of eroticism due to a highly erotic cover and then discovers that the relationship is based on other criteria, they will not look kindly upon my work.

I find myself wondering what other authors have done to make the covers match the pages as it were, and still be an enticing lure to purchasing the book.

Well I did redesign one of my covers to see what would happen. Would sells increase, decrease? Here are my covers, and in coming weeks I hope to broadcast my results. Thoughts?

Old Cover


New Cover

Monday, March 7, 2011

Not Another Bodice Ripper - The Case for Serious Romance Part Two

THE ANSWER

Love is a personal endeavor no matter how universal television commercials would like it to seem. The nature of it is idealized for some, and wide open for others. The truth is when writing about something as profoundly intimate as love, it is really bad form to try and relate love in another voice or fashion other than your own. The truth and charm to a story comes from that bit of truth that is included. That bit of truth is the relatable aspect of any story. This is the core of your own voice as a writer. Regardless of how many people 'understand' your character's plight or not, the truth of the situation will ring forth and give the story just the push it needs to really fly.

With that in mind it is very bad form for generalists to assume that a certain plotline or story premise is in line with any pre-described social agenda. The liberation of women was just that, liberation. Liberation is the right to make choices. A woman can decide if she would like to be a public figure or a private one. A woman can choose to vote, bare children, and get married or not. The claim that the creation of or reading of romance somehow 'tricks' women into believing in self destructive rhetoric is almost more offensive than any other misogynic claim as it actually feeds into the myth that women are incapable of processing thought beyond what they know to be a fictitious account.

In laymen's terms, the claim in essence says that a grown woman is not capable of separating fantasy from reality. This is a claim usually attached to mental illness, and honestly makes light of conditions suffered by those who have legitimate hormonal imbalances, injuries or birth defects that are associated with mental illness. Reading romance is not an illness. Also it no more detracts from feminist prose as it would add to it. With that being said, no romance is the same. Like all forms of entertainment and media there are levels of content. No two books actually read the same.

The romance formula is very easy to follow. Usually two people, and in recent entries sometimes more, have a great potential for a romantic relationship. They must confront each other and often times the results are not initially positive. That is because of individuality. This is an aspect of romance that is explored more than it is in some of its traditional fiction contemporaries. You have the dichotomy of a relationship as opposed to the relationship being a side car to the dichotomy of the story. In the end the essence of the story is to confront relationship boundaries and expose them. This is a very emotional plane of existence that can sometimes hold the same trauma as a tragedy. And it should. Love is a life changing event. Seeking to experience it, and be bound to another person for all time is also a life changing event. As far as I know not a single life changing event has ever gone quietly and without lessons in humility and shame. These are human emotions that bear the weight in most situations. Yet in love they are the core of what this entanglement is about.

The way a writer creates this is wide open. This sense of growing affection and intimacy is developed from one thing and one thing only, seeing the person for who they are and loving them because or despite it. This is a truth that romance novelists understand that is rarely examined in most contemporary literature where relationships seem to be of convenience and not of necessity. Others are forced attachments where the characters are bound by seemingly invisible tendrils of emotion that are strong enough to bond yet not strong enough to carry the story.

To some degree the emergence of more acceptable contemporary popular fiction, and the need to be perceived a certain way by others has taken the blush from the rose as far as sweeping love relationships are concerned. Romance novels have long been the butt of literary jokes and recently in a twisted parody of art imitating life some have even endeavored to live up to this reputation of being incomprehensible smut with bad punctuation and grammar. But what are the far reaching consequences to this? This seeming end to fairytale as it were that now blocks the heart from even seeking some idealized contentment. Is it this lack of 'romance' being taken seriously in day to day life that has enabled a lack of respect for sex, marriage, and all romantic relationships? Has the 'replaceable' mate taken the place of the 'irreplaceable' mate?

Today more than ever in a world of revolving doorlike changes we need the purity of actual romance.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Not Another Bodice Ripper - The Case for Serious Romance Part One

THE INTRODUCTION
Romance in general has always prescribed to formulas. Ask any literary agent who religiously sticks to what sells, and any aspiring romance novelist that would like to change things up. Romance novel trends seem to hate change more than any other genre. It is ironic then that it is the category of fiction that needs a makeover the most. However not truly in style, just in the context this style is delivered and perceived.

THE ISSUE
Romance has always suffered from a fallacy of perception as the people who don't actually read the genre seem to have the most to say about their inefficiency as a viable form of fiction. Yet in their vaulted wisdom of what is literary genius, and what is the lowest common denomination of literary fair, I must broach some fallacies of logic. Most high brow fiction involves some version of a love affair. The difference is usually how sexual interactions are portrayed if they are even portrayed.

THE COMPETITION
I think of some proverbial heavyweights of fiction such as Charles Dickens, Earnest Hemingway, and even Jane Austen. In their stories they seem to have very austere, pre-described, and idealized versions of love being portrayed. This is in some terms a 'clean' ethereal based love that only leaves a mess of the tongue and not of the person in a literal sense. The characters generate more passion for misplaced ideas than they do for the presence of another. Is it this sense of high dungeon that produces literary excellence?

In some instances in Hemingway's work for example there are clear overtones of a consuming misogyny as women can be easily trapped in a box and label of a mother, or a whore. It's always painfully Freudian when they end up as both, and thus rendered perfect. Yet this somehow manages to always be observed as part of the literary genius. The analogous representation of the purity of story because of the personalization of sexuality that is hardly ever actually realized just theorized.

THE THEORY
In some ways I believe the bias towards romance is a much deeper seated issue of humanity's perception of itself. The baser instincts of mating that romance points out are seen as 'immature' and 'unrefined' for many. Physical desire is usually seen as an indication of a simple beast instead of a hallmark of one in tune with the nature of whom and what it actually is. Human beings are mammals, and in many situations that animal instinct and urge is much more reliable in choosing a mate than a pros and cons list. The feeling is that romance makes absurd assumptions about this level of attraction and magnetism. That this 'animal' urge cannot be the basis to eventually grow into a deep and abiding love because love is something of a human nature, and not an animal one.

People with pets will tell you how well animals know love. Better sometimes than other human beings. They don't go with logic that their love will be returned. They operate on instinct, sometimes presenting themselves to an owner unsolicited on the street. This is how they love. Why is the idea that human love can be similar so seemingly odd? Or maybe they just have issues with the sex.

To Be Continued