Rough Draft Confessions: Not A Guide To Writing And Selling Erotica And Romance But Full Of Inside Insight Anyway

GENRES were made to be BROKEN

A non-fiction collection of inside insights about writing dirty, the power of words, taboo language, the freedoms and limitations of genres, fulfilling your creative drive, and the business of writing, this behind-the-scenes companion piece to the author’s erotica and romance novels takes readers inside the process of writing and selling flirty-dirty stories.
Part coming out story, part creative manifesto, all subversive, RDC connects readers to creative resources in off-the-wall ways, examines the absurdities of publishing convention, and will leave you vibrating with the desire to fall in love, have out-of-this-world sex on a mountaintop, and write a smutty story or two of your own.

FROM THE INTRODUCTION: “Managing Expectations: I’m writing for you, but I’m a liar”

This collection of essays-confessions began as a gift to my amazing beta readers—you—who wanted to know the story behind the story—and whether it was true that the most contentious negotiating point in my first publishing contract really centred on the word ‘cunt.’ ... Along the way, what was supposed to be an honest-(mostly)-but-amusing story of how a (dirty) novel gets published and sold in this Brave New World morphed into a coming out story of sorts and then a personal-and-professional manifesto about why I want to write filthy, dirty books, and, by extension, why you should read them… or, better yet, write a few of your own.

You’re welcome.

As you’re reading, there’s one thing you need to keep in mind. Everything a writer gives you to read—even if she claims it’s non-fiction, memoir, and nothing-but-the-truth—everything she gives you to read is a crafted narrative.

A performance.

(Never forget that.)

...I want you to treat this story as a dialogue. I wrote it for you, after all, and I’m telling it to you—just to you. If you have a question—if you need a clarification—ask me, and I’ll do my best to answer.

And I promise to lie only when it’s absolutely necessary.

Because I am trying to be truthful—you have no idea how hard that is for a fiction writer—most of the chapters are structured as Confessions. But there are a lot of interruptions. Questions. Interjections.

Every single one of them is your fault, by the way.

But we’ll get to that.

Ready?

Let’s manufacture a beginning to the story, shall we?

Note: Originally published as C– versus P–-: an incomplete confession in rough draft, this edition omits the fiction teasers, and comes with a title and cover that won’t offend your in-laws & children.
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Additional Information

Publisher
GENRES were made to be BROKEN
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Published on
Apr 20, 2017
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Pages
185
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ISBN
9780995810259
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Language
English
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Genres
Language Arts & Disciplines / Authorship
Self-Help / Creativity
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Content Protection
This content is DRM protected.
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Available on Android devices
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FROM THE PUBLISHER: Twenty-five-year-old Elizabeth did not plan to break up his marriage when she had an affair with her law school professor. But she did. Fifteen years later, she’s still coming to terms with the consequences of her youthful infatuation: trying to love a stepdaughter who hates her, financially and emotionally supporting an ex-wife who will never forgive the betrayal, and enduring the relentless overtures of a sister-in-law who’s determined to be her best friend. As her sister-in-law plunges into a reckless affair and her stepdaughter aggressively explores her sexuality, Elizabeth finds herself forced to reconsider her definition of love, commitment, and responsibility—a process that finally releases her from the shackles of her past mistakes and shows her the way to her own happily-ever-after.

TEASER

“What’s that?”
—This? Nothing. A photograph.

He looks at the photograph, and demands a story I don’t want to tell.

“Isn’t this what all women want? A lover who as passionately interested in the quotidian details of their boring, dysfunctional lives as in their desirable bodies?”

No. Not me. Or do I? I start to talk. I tell him about… about all of them. And, inadvertently, me. Things I’ve never put into words for anyone before…

“That’s the game you and I are playing. Do you not know that? I am looking for the key. You’re trying not to give it to me. But you want to play, and so you keep on talking, and so eventually, you will.”

I’m careful not to say too much. I am not going to take my sociopathic lover of the moment into the tragedy of my life.

“Why not? Tragedy is erotic. The things that make you laugh don’t arouse, lover. Check yourself.”

Really? I’m doing this? Why?

“Because you want to. Because you’re compelled. Does it matter? Just talk.”
So. I do.
Meet Will and Florence. He’s freshly divorced and in denial. She’s twice-burnt and prickly. They’re a terrible idea. They know this. But every time their eyes meet, their clothes come off. Experience their unique, hilarious, and heart-wrenching love story in the four episodes of Text Me, Cupid: a (slightly dirty) love story for 21st century adults.

In Episode 1: Messy Christmas, Florence is looking for a no-strings attached one night stand. Will thinks he’s game. Nobody’s going to fall in love. Are they? 

 

Meet Florence: “I’ve done this before, looking for a partner or soul mate or someone-to-grow-to-love, and you know what? I’m done with that. Honestly. I’m just looking for some casual sex. A one night stand. Specifically, during December, because it’s a weird season.”

 

Meet Will: “I’m reeling from a recent divorce and incapable of having a meaningful relationship. The only upside to my situation is that after fifteen years of monogamy I get to chase all the strange I want.”

 

Will has plans: In this head, she was already naked. Was she going to be covered with freckles? God, yes—freckles everywhere. He would find every single one.

 

Florence likes him: “You’re very sweet. And cute. Totally as advertised. Fit. Hair. Also, as tall as your profile said, which is a bonus. Do you know that almost all men on dating sites like about their height? They add two inches. And not just to their… you-know-what’s. Seriously.”

 

But she says it’s not going to work out: “You’re so sweet. So hot. But it’s not going to work out. I already know.”

 

Or is it?

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