What genre do your currently write? And, is there a genre you'd like to write, but haven't tried yet?
I don't limit myself to a genre, at all. I write what comes to me. I've done some light bondage, a little S/M, but mostly romantic/love stories in the YA and teen years.
I'd like to do some Fan-Fic, particularly of Big Bang Theory and Doctor Who with Tom Baker and Matthew Waterhouse.
Many authors use a nom de plume, and they may use one opposite to their own sex. Do you think an author's sex or sexual orientation should dictate what genre they write?
Not in the least. The ability to engage a reader's attention is all that matters, not the gender of the reader or the author.
Some authors have issues with character development, writer's block, plot summary etc. What is the biggest challenge you face when writing? How do you overcome the problem?
Overwriting. Rambling on and getting off the plot/story. I tend to put too much into the story and leave the path so-to-speak. I also find it almost impossible to do a quick, simple, sex story. I have to have background, side-story, and something more than only a sex story. No matter how hard I try to do that short, fast, sex story, characters speak to me and demand I tell something about them, their motivation, their background, why they are there at that time and doing what they are.
Oh, and punctuation and grammar. Commas! Why? Thank goodness for GrammarGirl!!!
What has been the single most successful marketing tool you've used to date?
Word of mouth. It seems to spread word faster than any of the actual marketing does.
What are you currently reading?
Re-reading Shadow Puppets by Orson Scott Card, and Someday Out Of The Blue by Little Buddha TW. I have an enormous to-read list!
How do you measure success?
That email that tells me that someone enjoyed a story, and especially when they admit to either tears, shouts of joy, or frustration to the point that they wanted to reach in to the character and shake the daylights out of him.
Just for fun–
What is your favourite drink?
Lynchburg Lemonade. When I drink, which is rare. I do enjoy trying a new beer I've never had before.
Are you a cat or dog person?
Both, actually. I've had both, and they both have their points.There's something so 'cushy' about a cat on your lap, and someting so solid and reassuring about a dog at your feet. I hate that cats can be so individual and don't come when called, and I hate a barking dog.
Love or lust?
Again, both. They both have their points, but when you get both together, what could be better? At least lust can come out of love, but love arriving out of lust is a rarity.
If you could spend the day with any famous author, who would it be? And, why?
J.R.R. Tokien - I simply have to spend some time with a man with such a command of the English language, other languages, and that incredible imagination and creativity.
I'm hoping you intended the author could be alive or dead. You did use the very inclusive 'any,' after all. Er, afterall? Where's my editor?
If you could indulge free of any consequences, what would be your ultimate sexual fantasy?
I'd like to bend every politician in D.C. over a pork barrel and give them literally what they've been giving us figuratively.
Okay, more actually, I want to be a professor at a college who give oral exams to the entire male body.
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Circulatim Trilogy - Book One: The Circle
"Your story should come with a Surgeon General's warning: This product may be harmful to your health; it may cause lack of sleep, mood swings, sudden verbal outbursts, long periods of inactivity, and result in withdrawal symptoms."
I woke spooned together with Toby in front of me. I remembered our last words to each other before falling asleep, spoken face to face and intimately together. We had never said it last summer, not directly. My stomach quivered and my heart fluttered, just as they had the first time I had seen Toby in the park a year ago.
Those fond memories, and the ones of last night, warmed my heart almost to overflowing as I snuggled up to him. I felt my morning wood nuzzle in between his cheeks.
He flew off the bed with an incoherent shout, banging into the night stand and nearly falling off his feet. He brushed at himself as if here were covered with something painful and shouted, "Off!" several times.
I was shocked! Not only at Toby's reaction and sudden movements, but at Toby's body. It was early morning, and the bright light of day upon his total nudity revealed how thin he was. His ribs and pelvis bones were nearly poking through his skin. His head seemed too big for his thin body and I wondered how he could hold it upright.
His shocking behavior worried me the most; Toby had never done anything like that last summer. We had woken each other the same way many times, in either position, and nothing like this had ever happened before.
I suddenly remembered Toby's request last night, to not let my fingers go back there, and I suddenly felt so guilty.
"What is it, Toby? What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up on the bed, naked and not caring, reaching out to touch him.
He was shivering and pale, and looked frightened to death. He wrapped his arms around himself as if he were cold as he sat down on the side of the bed. I moved up behind him, my erection forgotten, and put my arms tightly around him after noting the visible backbones, the ribs, and shoulder blades. The few muscles stood out like swollen spots across his back as he sat on the edge of the bed.
I pulled the blanket over us, then placed my chin on Toby's left shoulder, like last summer. But now it was a bony, bumpy place that almost felt foreign.
I kissed his earlobe from behind and said softly, "Hey, come on. I ain't seen you in a while, but I can tell something's wrong. You have some kind of freaky nightmare, and tell me it happens every night like it's nothing! Now you jump out of bed like it's on fire. What's the deal?"
My guts were twisted so tightly that it was hard to breathe. Just moments ago I had been as happy and content as I had ever been, now suddenly I was as worried and concerned as I had ever been.
"Toby, you have to talk about it. Until you do, it'll own you."
Toby cried for long minutes before he finally began to explain. By that time I had joined him in tears, made even worse because I didn't understand why. Not yet.
"My gym teacher. He caught me smokin' a doob after school. He, he, made me go to his office with him. He said I was in 'nough trouble already, and if I didn't do better an' not miss any days, I'd flunk gym. If ya flunk gym, ya flunk the whole grade!
"He told me I'd be a junior again next year even if he didn't tell anyone 'bout the pot 'cause my grades were so bad. But, he made me stand up an', he, he, searched me. He did more 'n search me. He felt me up! Big time! He found the baggie 'n papers in my ... where I hid 'em," Toby paused as he cried too hard to talk.
I knew where he hid his baggie and papers, so I knew how thoroughly his teacher had searched him.
"He made me take my pants down."
Toby's voice wavered as he sobbed deeply again.
I hugged him tighter, my guts heaving involuntarily, tears falling on Toby's back. I dreaded, and knew, what was coming next.
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Thank you for stopping by, Ray, it was a pleasure to have you on BRB. I hope that your novels are successful. ~ Blak Rayne