She's back! Welcome my pal, Mysti Holiday! I know I gave you some doozy questions, but I know you're up to the task.
Time to get down to brass tacks. Why write erotic romance?
I love romance... so the “romance” part is just a given. I seldom read anything that doesn’t have romance in it (even Dean Koontz includes romance in his books ... he’s no fool). Why erotic? Because it’s fun! Sex is awesome and sex in erotic romance is always good (the man always knows how to make his woman orgasm ... many times more than once, right?), and it’s something that feeds every reader’s fantasy, don’t you think?
Ah, yes, fantasy is important. But since my muses are acting up, I thought I'd ask you, where do you get your ideas?
From the idea store... we have one right down the street. ;-) You, too? :)
Okay, really, the fact is I don’t need an idea store because ideas are everywhere. Just look around ... see that lady over there? Why is she sad? Or that guy sitting on the bench in the mall all alone. Is he waiting for someone? Will she ever show up? Or the couple who go to the local cemetery every week. What are they doing? Look in the newspaper, the TV, the back of your cereal box. Writer’s brains are wired differently than non-writers, I think. We see a story in everything.
There are stories overfloweth, it's a matter of jotting them down so they aren't forgotten. Now I always wonder, what WON'T you put in a story?
An unhappy ending. My H/H will never die at the end (ala Nicholas Sparks). I’m not big on hardcore BDSM, so I probably wouldn’t write it ... but aside from the unhappy ending part? I never say never.
Never say never...giggle...ok, then Ms. Never Say Never: to research or not to research the story or toys or whichever?
Depends, really and there are different levels and types of research.
For instance, I have a sister who’s a lesbian in a committed relationship. I can ask her anything I want about a F/F relationship and I call that research.
Do I HAVE to participate in a ménage to write it? Nope, I have one hell of a vivid imagination ... though ... hmmm... I might have to have a little chat with my DH later. ;-)
Toys? Why not get some firsthand research? Even better, it’s a tax write-off!
I love it when we get to the fun stuff. Speaking of fun stuff, music, silence, or white noise? And why?
If I could write in a sound-proof room I would. I prefer absolute silence. I’m very into music, to the point where, when it’s on, I can’t focus on anything else. I can write with instrumental music on, especially if I don’t know the tune, but “can hear a pin drop” silence is best for me.
Oh good thing we aren't working in a room together. You might bop me on the head for being noisy... I do love to break into song when frustrated, 'specially if it's on the itunes. ;-P End this sentence: When I write I absolutely need ____________________
Time. I can’t jump into a story and go. I need time to read back a little and get immersed in the plot and characters again if I want what I write to be in the least bit decent.
I have to go back and re-read, too. Sometimes if I just jump in, I put stuff that was earlier or later in the story and then there's the dreaded repetition. Answer this extremely difficult question/statement: If I could write the next NYT Bestseller, it would be ______________________
Something so completely unusual that people would hold it up as the standard of whatever it was ala “The next ‘Harry Potter’!” or “In the tradition of ‘Twilight’!”.
Interesting take on it. Nice. Now, for more fun things, 'cuz I love having fun, name the oddest thing you've ever used for inspiration.
:::scratches head::: OH... how about the Guinness Book of World Records? Nope, not saying why. ;-)
Yanno, sometimes you take the fun out of things. ::Grumble, grumble:::Won't tell me... sheesh.... Ok, back to zany questions while I lick the wounds on my ego. Name the most mundane thing ever used as inspiration.
Again ... you’re making me think. I suppose it would be my old jobs. Most recently, I used my experiences as a bartender for “Blue Light Special”. I feel like I should say something like “toilet paper” or “my shopping list”, but that would be a lie. Though ... I feel a story coming on...
You could give us a little...glimpse into this story coming on...No? Fine. How about, your favorite date night movie?
“The Princess Bride” or “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” or maybe “The Wedding Singer”. All movies that both genders can enjoy so everyone is happy. That’s a must for date night.
Le sigh, always good choices...Adam Sandler could really work that sort of mullet look. Now if you were stranded and hat to have certain things, finish this statement so we know what to send you with: I can't live without __________________
BOOKS!! And maybe chocolate. Wait ... I should say something mushy here like, “My husband.” Right? But ... well... nope, books. And chocolate. *G*
Girl after my heart, books and chocolate. Add shoes and we'd be in like Flynn. Another fill-in, cuz I'm a brat ( but you knew that): If I could go back and revise my work (Not necessarily BLS) I'd change___________________
The length – of both my published stories. I think I’d like to add more background and more scenes. Deepen things a little, without boring the reader. And there’d be more sex, of course. :-D
More sex is always a good thing. Er.. um... did I just TMI? Oh well. Inquiring minds want to know the first thing you did this morning?
You mean AFTER I got out of bed? Then, I went potty. What? You didn’t?
I have no idea what time I went to bed last night. ((Rubbing Eyes))) oh well. Silly question alert: Ever had a "I shaved my legs for this?" moment? What was it?
The blind date I had with a guy who told me he looked like Riker from Star Trek: The New Generation. He wasn’t *exactly* lying, but what he’d neglected to say was that he was also only about 5’6” tall ... I’m 5’10”. So, yeah, that was doomed from the start.
What about you? I’d love to hear other folks dating disasters!!
Because a dear person and I can't see each other without one, tackle hug or casual handshake? (& why?)
Depends, doesn’t it? Tackle hug for a friend or family member I haven’t seen in a long time. Casual handshake for a new acquaintance or someone I’m just not that close to, emotionally.
Does that mean I get a tackle hug? Hmmmm.....
Visit Mysti at:
Her website: http://www.menagerieauthors.com
Her blog: http://www.menagerieauthors.blogspot.com
Want to know more about Mysti's book, Blue Light Special? Here's the blurb:
When Karin Lattimer moves across the country and her over-protective brother asks his friend Caleb Hawkes to keep an eye on her, she’s more than annoyed…she’s turned on. The attentive cop is a walking wet dream, but Karin knows he’s only hanging around out of a sense of duty. Acting on her crazy attraction would reveal more than the man’s buff body—it would also reveal her heart.
Caleb is well aware that Karin is all woman. He can’t keep his eyes off her and his hands itch to touch her. But she’s not one-night-stand material, and he firmly believes cops make lousy partners for long-term relationships.
Still, thinking clearly isn’t a top priority when Karin and Caleb finally touch. Sparks fly and barriers melt away as easily as their inhibitions, but can she convince him there's more to life than playing it safe?
Want an excerpt? Sure you do!
She grabbed her cell phone and texted him for the eight-hundredth time.
Need ur muscle, u jerk. U scared of me?
She hit send and leaned back in the grass, soaking up the sun and figuring she’d have to take the stupid car to some quick lube place. She couldn’t do it today...not enough time before work to drive into town and back. She’d have to do it tomorrow as soon as she woke up.
A shadow fell across her and she opened her eyes in surprise.
“I’m not scared of you, but you should be a little more careful laying out here in an open invitation.” Caleb shoved his sunglasses up his nose a bit and watched her.
“Open invitation?” Karin snorted. “Besides the fact those ugly hedges are as tall as you and twice as thick, it’s not like I was lying here like this…” She spread her legs and lifted her shirt until the swell of her naked breasts showed at the hem. Caleb’s nostrils flared, and she wished she could see his eyes.
“...or doing this.” She put her index finger into her mouth, sucked on it and then trailed it down her shirt until she found a nipple. Her finger circled the nipple until it poked against the thin cotton tank, then repeated the action on the other one.
“…or sounding like this.” She moaned and squirmed her hips just a bit.
“Jesus, Karin.” He looked around to see if anyone was watching. “You should be illegal.”