I Hate My House I Love My House

Soo...if any of you have been following me on Facebook or know me as a friend, you know I have been struggling with my writing. The truth is I haven't written anything of consequence in a dog's age. (Don't worry, I have enough backlog in books to keep you in fresh material for a long time to come.) Now, it might be professional suicide to share this with you, but I have committed suicide before and am still here to tell the tale, and I have always shared everything with you all and I am not about to start pulling my punches.

Truth is, all writers go through writer's block...or periods of feeling drained of their creativity. What I speak of is not new phenomenon. Some of the most famous authors you know were plagued by the writer's block beast. But for me it's not so much a block as it is...my inner child wants to play not work not ever so nah!

I am 170lbs lighter than I was. I can wear gorgeous clothes and shoes. I can get on planes and fit in the seats. I can travel everywhere. I can do just about anything! Why oh why would I want to sit here, in front of the computer, in this seat that I was trapped in under fat and infirmity for DECADES in this dark spot in my house?? I existed in that spot, unmoving, unliving, uneverything. Now...I loathe it. I loathe sitting in one spot. I loathe being in my house. I loathe this computer screen I have stared at for every single day for so damn long.

I want to PLAY! I want to shop! I want to go out and go dancing and run on a beach and do things people do to have fun. I want to conquer my fears and do some crazy ass shit while I'm still young enough to do so. Because, you see, it snuk up on me so fast last time. One day I was young and healthy (albeit overweight. Have been since I was 15) and then the next...(so it seemed) I couldn't even climb a set of three stairs. I couldn't walk through a store. I had to go to Wal Mart or Target only because they were the only ones who had electric carts. I had to buy a one story house (I have a 'bonus' room though which is up over the garage. I lived in this house for almost 2 years before I was able to even see it!)

The point is, I feel like I've wasted so much time and, despite the weight loss, I am still not all that healthy. (People marvel at how much meds I am on. Granted it's a few less now than before...) What if I spend all this great time sitting on my ass and suddenly...bam! It's all gone again?

But like I said in my title...I hate my house....but I love my house. I want to keep it. I want to keep my car. I want all those little things that come with a paycheck. So...this girl's got to work. It's not as though I want to be irresponsible. It's not that I want to quit and never write again. I love to write. I love to make up stories. I like to create unique worlds that blow your socks off. :) (My agent and my editors and publishers are going to be very glad to hear this part) So here's the thing. How do I write and stay focused when my inner child is whining that it wants to go out and play?

On top of all of this, I'm stuck in my own head. Or maybe even my own ego. I sit here thinking whatever I do next has to be UTTERLY SPECTACULAR!! It has to outshine everything I have ever done before AND it has to be strides ahead of the tremendous talent that is out there in my genre. (And those who aren't tremendously talented but somehow popular just the same). I have to write a NYT Bestseller that outdoes myself...and can do battle with everyone else. And then once I do that..OMG I have to do it again! And again!

And crap, I gotta pay taxes, too.

Not too much pressure, eh? This is the essence of writer's block. A writer who gets stuck in the pressures and minutiae in their own minds. All of the above mentioned crap AND the daily list of things in their personal and business lives that they swim in.

But I think I found a solution. For me anyway. I'm taking it Old School. I'm leaving the laptop at home, leaving home at home, and with nothing but a wire bound journal and a favorite pen, (well, ok so i do take my cell) I am going out and finding quiet nooks and crannies where I can sit, enjoying the OUT THERE out there, and yet focusing completely on writing. This is how I did it when I was a kid. Back when teachers thought I was the most diligent notetaker in class? That was me writing reams and reams of stories, perfecting what would one day become a craft. The spiral notebook was my original laptop. I had forgotten how much I love the feel of pen drawing over paper. There's sometimes a few moments that it takes to write a word vs. typing a word that allows your brain to jump to the next thought.

Now, the downside..no delete key, no backup files (save me if I drop today's gel inks--my favorites--in a puddle), and I have to retype the whole thing over again eventually anyway. So this is strictly for creative purposes only. Perhaps just to get me started. I am considering an IPad...strictly for the purposes of being able to carry it in my purse everywhere at all times without having to lug a laptop hither and yon. The laptop isn't big, just...inconvenient. But I don't know if an IPad is easy to type on. Still, it can't be any slower than using a pen, right?

Maybe I'll stick with the low tech solution. For now it feels good. I can't tell you how many words I've written...for some reason the damn journal refuses to tell me!

Hugs and Kitties

Jacki

PS: So far Barnes and Noble and the Library have been tried out. B and N is nice, but there's a lot of pressure in those bookshelves. The library has no pressure because they don't have a single damn book in my genre from what I can see, but it was really freaking noisy after 2pm. Any other suggestions? I need a chair that's comfy that I can cross my legs in and prop the journal on my knee. Oh, hey! My therapist's waiting room was nice. Wonder if they'll let me haunt it. :P

Mother's Day for Demons...

...and other things we don't think about.

I think one of the things the I always asked myself when reading paranormal romance was...and where did these people's families disappear to?? Granted, if you are turned into a vampire you have a choice, bury all your relations throughout the years or turn them and take 'em with you. Werewolves always seem to be more family oriented. Dens. Packs. Inbreeding and in-fighting. Okay, so sometimes there's such a thing as too much family.

I took a slightly more traditional approach to family when I created the Nightwalker breeds. They are family-centric, (although without the incest, tyvm) and that seems to me to be one of their most attractive traits. After all, didn't you just melt when you saw Noah playing with Leah? Didn't you just want him all wrapped up in a bow? Can't you just imagine him on Mother's Day with Kestra bringing her flowers and brekkies in bed?? (Well, had she not been...you know...) Doesn't it just kill you to think those genes aren't going to be spread into the future generations?? Aren't you just dying to know if the Vampire and the Lycanthrope are ever going to be able to reach across their racial chasm and perhaps, maybe, one day, make a baby together? What about the Lycanthrope and the Demon?? Or the Vampire and the...oops. Wait. That would be telling. ;)

I think this stems from my difficulties in the world of family. I had a brutal childhood, and although I have four sisters, we aren't what I would call uber close. I'm not blaming anyone. It's a pretty selfish day and age and we all get so wrapped up in our own crap that it seems family has fallen to the wayside. I am up front and guilty of it myself. As I get older I seem to long for the family touch more and more. After all, someone needs to take care of me one day when I am old and sick. :P Just kidding. I already was old and sick. I'm in my new thirties now.

But it always amazes me that, even if we lack for genetic family, we throng together to make families of our own. At my signing this weekend I spent fabulous time with this adorable family. They are called the Blood Lust Book Club. There's the gay male matriarch, the hippy dippy female father figure who runs War Hammer games, the gay male's wife who has a rockin tattoo and, erm, bite marks...and all the little kidlets that sit around and hug all the time, share meals, share hurts and woes and are probably more there for each other than most traditional church-going families ever will be. It's times like this I think we might actually have hope in our future as a society in general.

For now, I like making up my own societies. The good guys are good and the bad guys are dead...eventually. I swear....EVENTUALLY!! (Then again, eventually is true for all things in a thermodynamic universe...) In my new title Drink of Me (Zebra, Oct. 2010) I take a relatively orphaned group of males and make them into one of the tightest family units I've ever written. The blood drinking and all that...well, it's just one of those family quirks. But far be it from me to judge the non-traditional family. In fact, I celebrate it!

So imagine Mother's Day in Noah's castle. All your favorite characters are there. Doesn't it warm the cockles of your heart? Or, like me, can you see the sadder hearts that would be there? They have their HEAs, their one true love, but suddenly we realize that it's not all about that, is it? Are we selfish for wanting more? For wanting it ALL??

Meh. Not to worry. I'll see that we all get what we want one way or another. Even if we don't quite realize it was what we were really asking for all along.

Keeping it Real

So, there's this thing out there in the author world about 'over sharing' information about yourself. I've been heavily criticized for talking openly about my life, the things I do and the people in it. Basically, I over share. (According to some critical others.) But what they call over sharing and TMI, I call keeping it real.

I'm sorry, but the world has enough stuck up, holier-than-thou assholes in it. I am not going sit up on some NYT Bestselling throne looking down my nose at all the little peons come to worship at my feet, keeping the air of mystery, playing the entitled diva. Frankly, I'm not entitled to squat unless you, the readers, feel like giving it to me...and I am grateful enough as it is for your pocket change when you decide to buy my work. If you go beyond that, if you come to me with an email or follow me on Facebook or any of that stuff, I assume you are doing it because you want to get to know me a little better. You want to know something other than if I can write a good story.

So, I am happy to give you...me. My weight loss journey. My boob job. My struggles with my kid. My puddles of insecurity, my tears when I see someone trash talk me...the list goes on. And I'm not going to give you a shinier version of me. Just the me of me. Now, mind you, I will keep things to myself in certain ways. Like, my real name. Where I live. Some of ya'll are freaks (if you are offended by that reference, then...urm...you're probably a freak. Clearly even you think so!)and I am going to protect my kids and family.

There are those who say it's a matter of professionalism. It's unprofessional to talk about how, ever since you hit forty, you have the worst time trying not to fart in public. Oh c'mon. You're all women out there! (Men have never cared about when and where they fart, so...)You all have bodies! And frankly it always gives me tremendous comfort to know someone else goes through this and is willing to talk about it! What would be unprofessional is if I tried to put that tidbit into a conversation between one of my heroes and heroines. That is not romantic. (Although, it's funny shit so another writer who does comedic romance might get away with it). You come to my writing to suspend reality. You come to me to keep it real. If you don't like what I have to say, stop following me! Resign from the blogs and mailing lists and etc. Right? If you want mystery between us, by all means. I can do that. So long as you don't read my blogs or my Facebook posts. I call it the 'head in the sand' approach. I don't cope well with bad reviews, so therefore I avoid them like the plague. I stick my fingers in my ears, shut my eyes and yell "La! La! La!" Voila! As far as I am concerned, I never get a bad review. (Okay, well, I do come across them accidentally once in a while. In which case, I need a fifth of scotch to fix the problem. And don't get me started on reviews. Did you know there are people out there with NOTHING BETTER TO DO than to go on Amazon and trash talk other people's books in order to raise up the authors they like?? Can you believe that?? Oh, but we're not supposed to talk about that, too. And we're not supposed to answer back. I am not making that up. According to RWR magazine, that is known as 'shooting yourself in the foot' professionally.)

I understand. It serves no purpose to waste energy engaging an idiot in a battle of wits...especially when the poor dears are so unarmed. It's basically grade school all over again. Bullies. The popular girls make themselves feel better by whipping others to shreds. Oy. Grow up and get a life. But the fact is, it still wounds you if you are a sensitive human being. I am not going to pretend otherwise because, frankly, I am proud of being a sensitive human being. I am proud to over share. I love nothing more than when a reader writes to me and says how 'down to earth' I am. How real I am. How much they appreciate my touchable approach. I will be ashamed of myself the day I look down my nose at someone and deem myself too good to be honest with them.

If I want to be professional, I call my agent and cry hysterically with her or get mad and stomp my feet with her and then let HER call my editors or publishers or whoever has ticked me off and communicate my...erm...discontent with the current situation. Unprofessional would be to call them directly and curse them out like the New York gal I am with no regard for my future contracts. That, after all, is why she earns the big bucks. She is a tool. A buffer. An ambassador. A very talented one. A priceless one. What, are you shocked to hear I can behave like a child on occasion? You mean you don't? Not even deep down on the inside? If you are able to keep that under wraps, I envy you. Perhaps it is because I am bipolar, perhaps it's because I never learned how to suppress all of that emotion...perhaps I'm a child now and forever. Flaws. A ton of them. And I have them like crazy!!

Don't you?

Hugs and Kitties
Jacki

New Website Has Launched!!

Hi all! Welcome to my new website!! We worked really hard to make this hugely user friendly and to make it easy for you to get answers to all your questions. Where am I signing? What is AAD? Who is JAX? Are you coming out with a new Nightwalker book?

You can write me easily right from the website. Sign up for alerts to these blogs and a newsletter if I release one. You can see what is scheduled. What hits the shelves when. You can read first chapters or teasers from the backs of the books. I have fancy little flashes to entertain you and oh so much more!! Come. Play around. Have FUN!

Hugs and Kitties
Jacki

Happy Holidays!

I just wanted to wish everyone a happy holiday, whatever you may celebrate! I have my beautiful daughter with me for the holiday and I am so thrilled. I hope all of you are curled up warm and cozy with someone you love, drinking egg nog or hot cocoa, wishing for snow and Santa to come.

I wanted to take this opportunity to update you on the goings on in my world. My new Gatherers series debuts December 29th with the arrival of HUNTING JULIAN. It's pictured here below with it's lovely revised cover. I think it's beautiful.

This new series travels to worlds you won't expect and for reasons you have to read to believe. It's a departure from my Nightwalkers and Shadowdwellers, but I hope you enjoy it equally.

Then, this spring will be the follow up story, book 2, STEALING KATHRYN. I have the cover art for that as well and it is equally beautiful. :)

So, my dears, I wish you a prosperous New Year, a Christmas full of riches, a festive Yule or Kwanzaa. Whatever way you celebrate, whatever it is that gives you family comfort and and that warm special spirit of the season, know that I am wishing it for you in spades.

Hugs and Kitties
Jacquelyn Frank