Due to some technical difficulty I'm having with this blog and moderating comments, I will be hard at work behind the scenes taking The Printed Fox to a new (and better!) location.
Please bear with me!
Monday, October 29, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
25% off Coupon Code & Contest!
It's Day 4 of the Boys Club Anthology and Coupon Code contest!!! Just enter my coupon code during check-out: DEETHEBOYSCLUB6
Get 25% off the purchase price of the anthology, and every purchase with the code brings me one purchase closer to 20, and I win a t-shirt! Doesn't sound like much, but it's a huge deal around NNP!
Also, leave a comment here if you purchase the anthology with my coupon code. If I win, I'll enter everyone's name in for a drawing for a $10 gift card to NNP as my way of saying Thank You!
Happy reading!
Delena
Saturday, September 29, 2012
How to Keep Calm and Focused in the Face of Fucktards
So we know that this blog is usually meant for my endeavors into the realm of writing romance novels, but an extremely good blog village sister of mine is having some tough times, and I felt compelled to write something.
See, she's been harassed for years by some really unsavory characters that are so preposterous that I wouldn't even put them in a book as antagonists. I prefer mine to be respectably intelligent, and I honestly don't know that I'm a good enough writer to write that dumb.
So anyway, I wanted to give her a little encouragement. When harassment and defamation gets that bad, sometimes the only way you can defend yourself without crossing the very lines that others have crossed to get to you, the law and courts have to get involved. I can't imagine how tough this is for you, but know that you are incredibly strong and I really admire you. I probably would have gone the route of using my words to insult them to the point where they came at me with torches and pitchforks. Not so bueno.
But I honestly don't know how much wisdom I can give you that hasn't already been given by your flabbergastingly amazing and supportive blog village. All those emails, and comments, and people coming over and being fantastically awesome...I can't compete. I can only say that whatever wisdom they brought to you, pick up the pearls that look pretty and make sense to you, and leave the rest.
Your friend is right. Some people just want to tear down anything that aspires to more than they are.
You see, some people...where they are is as far as they will ever go, and a part of them knows that. So people like you who go out and reach higher, and accomplish more, and do better show them --as far as they're concerned-- just how much they suck. They realize they will never go anywhere, do anything, and what they have is all they'll ever have.
They're afraid. Afraid of change, of growth, of effort...whatever it is, they're afraid. They refuse to face it, and tell themselves all manner of things to convince themselves that they like where they are, or that it's better than it really is, or whatever. Anything to avoid looking at the fact that they're scared. They're sad, small, pathetic life is all they will ever know, and a part of them knows that.
It's not even a new pathetic. It's a sad, old story of a sad old pathetic. Some dreamers and makers and shapers went out to seek their fortunes and create their worlds, while the ones who were too scared stayed behind on the boring old farm and never got out of their podunk little village. See?
The fact that you are not content to settle and always challenge yourself...see, to them, you have already provoked them. I'm not blaming you. They are, though, but their choices in life have nothing to do with you. You are a painful, loud, and unavoidable reminder of just how sad, afraid, and stuck they are. You are an example of everything they will never be nor have. And in comparison, they cannot escape looking at just how much their life sucks.
You have the courage to say "Yes!" and accomplish greatness, and they...well, they're too scared to get out and drive a damn car, for chrissakes.
So, my lovely, don't waste your tremendous and world-changing energy being angry at them, venting --even to your bestest friends-- vitriol and resentment, name-calling, or frustration. The sad and pathetic who will never amount to anything don't deserve your scorn. Those poor things will never see the kind of world you see, nor will they experience the kind of wonder, love, accomplishment, pride, or joy that you do. But they're not to be pitied, either. Honor their path. They've chosen the harder road: the road of short-sighted and fucktastic ignominy of patheticness.
By all means, protect yourself from their toxic dysfunction. You've taken the first steps by filing charges and hiring your attorney. Now that the worldly steps have been taken, guide your thoughts. Every spark of energy you give to them is energy you give to their hostility in your life. "They're such shits! They're doing X, Y, and Z to me!"
The Universe hears and answers, remember. Like a genie granting wishes. "You're right!" it says. "They are!" And it gives you more of the same.
"I hate them! I'm so angry and it's interfering with my life!"
"Okay!" sayeth the Universe. "They're interfering! More interference, coming right up!"
If you must, focus on how awesome your lawyer is and how he's going to help you bring justice to the whole situation. Focus instead on gratitude for the advertisers who have stuck by you, for all the people who support you, for your wonderful hatchling who's so fucking amazing she's proof on two legs that you're a bombastic single mama badass.
Don't let them drag you away from your awesomelicious, rocktastic funkorama. Focus instead on dreaming up your greatest vision of the awesomest version of You, and then go and make that happen. Do only that.
Reach higher. Dream bigger. Do better. Be gratefuller. Be confident. Practice gratitude mindfulness as you focus on the important things: hatchling, school (congrats, woman!), blog, business, family and friends.
And remember, don't waste your time on people --any people-- who drag you down. Family isn't blood. Family is choice. And you are free to graft as many loved ones onto your family tree as deserve it. And prune as many off, too. Honor them, bless them as they go, then use their sorry carcasses as mulch for your awesome, patchwork family tree made up of people who are family because they choose to be.
Because everything, after all, is a choice.
See, she's been harassed for years by some really unsavory characters that are so preposterous that I wouldn't even put them in a book as antagonists. I prefer mine to be respectably intelligent, and I honestly don't know that I'm a good enough writer to write that dumb.
So anyway, I wanted to give her a little encouragement. When harassment and defamation gets that bad, sometimes the only way you can defend yourself without crossing the very lines that others have crossed to get to you, the law and courts have to get involved. I can't imagine how tough this is for you, but know that you are incredibly strong and I really admire you. I probably would have gone the route of using my words to insult them to the point where they came at me with torches and pitchforks. Not so bueno.
But I honestly don't know how much wisdom I can give you that hasn't already been given by your flabbergastingly amazing and supportive blog village. All those emails, and comments, and people coming over and being fantastically awesome...I can't compete. I can only say that whatever wisdom they brought to you, pick up the pearls that look pretty and make sense to you, and leave the rest.
Your friend is right. Some people just want to tear down anything that aspires to more than they are.
You see, some people...where they are is as far as they will ever go, and a part of them knows that. So people like you who go out and reach higher, and accomplish more, and do better show them --as far as they're concerned-- just how much they suck. They realize they will never go anywhere, do anything, and what they have is all they'll ever have.
They're afraid. Afraid of change, of growth, of effort...whatever it is, they're afraid. They refuse to face it, and tell themselves all manner of things to convince themselves that they like where they are, or that it's better than it really is, or whatever. Anything to avoid looking at the fact that they're scared. They're sad, small, pathetic life is all they will ever know, and a part of them knows that.
It's not even a new pathetic. It's a sad, old story of a sad old pathetic. Some dreamers and makers and shapers went out to seek their fortunes and create their worlds, while the ones who were too scared stayed behind on the boring old farm and never got out of their podunk little village. See?
The fact that you are not content to settle and always challenge yourself...see, to them, you have already provoked them. I'm not blaming you. They are, though, but their choices in life have nothing to do with you. You are a painful, loud, and unavoidable reminder of just how sad, afraid, and stuck they are. You are an example of everything they will never be nor have. And in comparison, they cannot escape looking at just how much their life sucks.
You have the courage to say "Yes!" and accomplish greatness, and they...well, they're too scared to get out and drive a damn car, for chrissakes.
So, my lovely, don't waste your tremendous and world-changing energy being angry at them, venting --even to your bestest friends-- vitriol and resentment, name-calling, or frustration. The sad and pathetic who will never amount to anything don't deserve your scorn. Those poor things will never see the kind of world you see, nor will they experience the kind of wonder, love, accomplishment, pride, or joy that you do. But they're not to be pitied, either. Honor their path. They've chosen the harder road: the road of short-sighted and fucktastic ignominy of patheticness.
By all means, protect yourself from their toxic dysfunction. You've taken the first steps by filing charges and hiring your attorney. Now that the worldly steps have been taken, guide your thoughts. Every spark of energy you give to them is energy you give to their hostility in your life. "They're such shits! They're doing X, Y, and Z to me!"
The Universe hears and answers, remember. Like a genie granting wishes. "You're right!" it says. "They are!" And it gives you more of the same.
"I hate them! I'm so angry and it's interfering with my life!"
"Okay!" sayeth the Universe. "They're interfering! More interference, coming right up!"
If you must, focus on how awesome your lawyer is and how he's going to help you bring justice to the whole situation. Focus instead on gratitude for the advertisers who have stuck by you, for all the people who support you, for your wonderful hatchling who's so fucking amazing she's proof on two legs that you're a bombastic single mama badass.
Don't let them drag you away from your awesomelicious, rocktastic funkorama. Focus instead on dreaming up your greatest vision of the awesomest version of You, and then go and make that happen. Do only that.
Reach higher. Dream bigger. Do better. Be gratefuller. Be confident. Practice gratitude mindfulness as you focus on the important things: hatchling, school (congrats, woman!), blog, business, family and friends.
And remember, don't waste your time on people --any people-- who drag you down. Family isn't blood. Family is choice. And you are free to graft as many loved ones onto your family tree as deserve it. And prune as many off, too. Honor them, bless them as they go, then use their sorry carcasses as mulch for your awesome, patchwork family tree made up of people who are family because they choose to be.
Because everything, after all, is a choice.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Six Sentence Sunday #2
It's another Six Sentence Sunday! My apologies for missing last week's; it was so crazy here in my non-writing life that I think I spaced it until after the sign-up was already closed.
Just my luck, yes?
Anyway, I was doing a little digging a couple of weeks ago and found about 8000 words of a story I had started about three years ago. It ended up buried beneath a mountain of homework and 80+ hours a week at work. Then there was a baby, and those little bundles of joy are also little brain matter vaporizers.
And so this little piece languished until I unearthed it. While still trying to decide where to go with it, I decided to toss it up for SSS this week.
The story is a runaway slave named Ravaise whose past has caught up with her after two years of freedom. She knows the stakes, and she knows what will happen if she continues to run. On the other hand, she also remembers the torture and humiliation of her years as property serving a petty tyrant whose entire power base was in possessing the biggest and the best.
And Rave was the best that got away.
"Do you know what love means for a concubine?" She shuddered. "Do you know what freedom means to slaveborn, my love? I swore myself to you, but I will not allow you to destroy them for this."
Zhandar was poison with its rapacious lords and grasping merchant princes in a rotted den of Old Guard fighting like starving dogs against the New Regime, but it was a poison she had taken in with her mother's milk. "If I must, I will go back with him."
Thanks for stopping by! I hope you enjoyed what is only the beginning of Rave's difficulties, the poor thing. Stop by Six Sentence Sunday for more snippets from awesome writers, and I'll see you next week!
Just my luck, yes?
Anyway, I was doing a little digging a couple of weeks ago and found about 8000 words of a story I had started about three years ago. It ended up buried beneath a mountain of homework and 80+ hours a week at work. Then there was a baby, and those little bundles of joy are also little brain matter vaporizers.
And so this little piece languished until I unearthed it. While still trying to decide where to go with it, I decided to toss it up for SSS this week.
The story is a runaway slave named Ravaise whose past has caught up with her after two years of freedom. She knows the stakes, and she knows what will happen if she continues to run. On the other hand, she also remembers the torture and humiliation of her years as property serving a petty tyrant whose entire power base was in possessing the biggest and the best.
And Rave was the best that got away.
"Do you know what love means for a concubine?" She shuddered. "Do you know what freedom means to slaveborn, my love? I swore myself to you, but I will not allow you to destroy them for this."
Zhandar was poison with its rapacious lords and grasping merchant princes in a rotted den of Old Guard fighting like starving dogs against the New Regime, but it was a poison she had taken in with her mother's milk. "If I must, I will go back with him."
Thanks for stopping by! I hope you enjoyed what is only the beginning of Rave's difficulties, the poor thing. Stop by Six Sentence Sunday for more snippets from awesome writers, and I'll see you next week!
Friday, May 4, 2012
Men, lovely men!
Welcome to the Men of May Bloghop, my lovelies, where we share our favorite inspiration for the men in our stories, the men in our lives, and the men in our hornypants! Y'know, the hilarious thing about this whole thing is that I'm really not a big ogler of the mancandy. My biggest turn-ons are intelligence (to include razor-sharp sarcasm), rugged Alpha confidence, and a touch of humility to know his place in the world. So I'm not really all that attracted to looks, though they're quite a bonus.
And in movies n' such, my friends make fun of me. I tend to "ooh" and "ahh" the dirty, sweaty ones. Usually while they're on horseback. Or -ahem- packing serious heat.
I'm about to totally lift my skirt and show the "GEEK" that's embroidered on my hornypants, but hey, geeks need love, too!
[pic removed]
Christopher Judge in Stargate SG-1. Now, I know it can't just be me. There were plenty of opportunities in that show for some serious drooling, and they had Christopher topless so often it was almost a tradition.
But in all honesty, when he was geared up and trampling through the jungles of distant planets or hand-to-hand with the Goa'uld and busting ass I was getting hot under the collar.
I mean, look at that! Dual-wielding some serious weaponry while still showing off all that chiseled wonderfulness. He's like Rambo, only HAWT!
[pic removed]
"I aim to misbehave."
I mean, it's Nathan Fillion, so he's always hot. But Mal. Firefly, and then Serenity.
Oh yeah, Mal. I'd totally misbehave with him.
Again...
...and again...
...and again...
Honestly, there are so many others it's almost a shame that I can't put them all up here. However, there will always be other opportunities to talk about men, delicious men.
If you're interested in seeing other lovely men and setting your hornypants on fire, check out what the other bloggers are saying for the Men of May!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Thank you, NNP
Now, while I could never say anything nearly as well as Sherry did, I can at least tell the world about my appreciation for all the work that Naughty Nights Press has done for me.
I'm a brand-new author awaiting the grueling editing process that all writers face (rumor has it gets easier, yes?) and dread, but at the end of the editing, formatting, and the awesome cover artists who labor tirelessly to provide all of NNP's authors with beautiful and eye-catching covers for their books, I know I'm going to have a finished product I can be damn proud to call mine.
The thing of it is, it never occurred to me that the entire publishing industry --from writer to editor to cover design to publisher-- is filled with nothing but artists. At least, not until I started doing my homework and researching agents and publishers back in 2004. In fact, I remember because it was shortly after Miss Snark made her debut in the blogosphere. I still miss Killer Yap. Until then, I thought I was the only artist in the entire publishing process.
I lol at my naïveté. I really do.
Recently I read The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman, and while he was talking about editors in this section, it really applies to every single person involved in bringing an unpublished manuscript onto the bookshelves:
"Master editors are artists themselves. They need to be. Not only can they perform all the tasks of a great editor, but they'll also bring something of their own to a test, give the writer a certain kind of guidance, let the writer know if a certain scene --artistically-- should be cut... They'll never impose their will or edit for the sake of editing, but like a great actor, let it grow within them and then suggest changes that arise from the text itself."
This next line is fantastic: "Like the great Zen master who creates priceless calligraphy with one stroke, the master editor can transform an entire page with one single, well-placed word."
Don't you love that?
And while we all know that Ms. G has fantabulous taste, it was humbling and an honor to receive that acceptance letter in my email box. A good eye for story and writing, as well as knowing what your market wants makes a good publisher a savvy and powerful ally to have in your corner as a writer.
I feel absolutely at my best to know that I have such an amazing team backing me. Soon as my first work is available for purchase, you'll see what I mean, too.
So thank you so much, Naughty Nights Press. Thank you, Ms. G.
I'm a brand-new author awaiting the grueling editing process that all writers face (rumor has it gets easier, yes?) and dread, but at the end of the editing, formatting, and the awesome cover artists who labor tirelessly to provide all of NNP's authors with beautiful and eye-catching covers for their books, I know I'm going to have a finished product I can be damn proud to call mine.
The thing of it is, it never occurred to me that the entire publishing industry --from writer to editor to cover design to publisher-- is filled with nothing but artists. At least, not until I started doing my homework and researching agents and publishers back in 2004. In fact, I remember because it was shortly after Miss Snark made her debut in the blogosphere. I still miss Killer Yap. Until then, I thought I was the only artist in the entire publishing process.
I lol at my naïveté. I really do.
Recently I read The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman, and while he was talking about editors in this section, it really applies to every single person involved in bringing an unpublished manuscript onto the bookshelves:
"Master editors are artists themselves. They need to be. Not only can they perform all the tasks of a great editor, but they'll also bring something of their own to a test, give the writer a certain kind of guidance, let the writer know if a certain scene --artistically-- should be cut... They'll never impose their will or edit for the sake of editing, but like a great actor, let it grow within them and then suggest changes that arise from the text itself."
This next line is fantastic: "Like the great Zen master who creates priceless calligraphy with one stroke, the master editor can transform an entire page with one single, well-placed word."
Don't you love that?
And while we all know that Ms. G has fantabulous taste, it was humbling and an honor to receive that acceptance letter in my email box. A good eye for story and writing, as well as knowing what your market wants makes a good publisher a savvy and powerful ally to have in your corner as a writer.
I feel absolutely at my best to know that I have such an amazing team backing me. Soon as my first work is available for purchase, you'll see what I mean, too.
So thank you so much, Naughty Nights Press. Thank you, Ms. G.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Devil's Bitch
This is my first time participating in Six Sentence Sunday, and I must admit I'm a little nervous! It took me a long time to sift through my work to see what I might want to feature. Even as I love it, a lot of my erotica still leaves me feeling embarrassed, kind of like why I'll go to chick flicks by myself so I don't have to cry in front of somebody or try to hold it all in.
I love my passion, and I love me some romance, so here's a bit from my WIP "Devil's Bitch," which I hope to submit for publishing sometime soon. The cat-and-mouse between Norelia and Reoth is so much fun, and he knows just how to draw her in: make her a wager she can't refuse.
"You bested me, but you will never conquer me. And if you think taking to wife the heir of Lomyr will make you Emperor, I advise you to sleep lightly."
Behind her, she heard him chuckle softly. "I will never make you do anything you do not desire to do, Princess," he said. His grip tightened painfully on her arm, yet she would not flinch. "But know this: you will be begging to serve me by the time the last harvest comes in."
Ah, I love his confidence! Those two are endlessly entertaining.
For more fun and tantalizing bitty excerpts from other fantastic writers, check out the awesome folk at Six Sentence Sunday!
I love my passion, and I love me some romance, so here's a bit from my WIP "Devil's Bitch," which I hope to submit for publishing sometime soon. The cat-and-mouse between Norelia and Reoth is so much fun, and he knows just how to draw her in: make her a wager she can't refuse.
"You bested me, but you will never conquer me. And if you think taking to wife the heir of Lomyr will make you Emperor, I advise you to sleep lightly."
Behind her, she heard him chuckle softly. "I will never make you do anything you do not desire to do, Princess," he said. His grip tightened painfully on her arm, yet she would not flinch. "But know this: you will be begging to serve me by the time the last harvest comes in."
Ah, I love his confidence! Those two are endlessly entertaining.
For more fun and tantalizing bitty excerpts from other fantastic writers, check out the awesome folk at Six Sentence Sunday!
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