Fall has hit Colorado, the sky is a soft gray, the air holds heavy dampness. It is reminiscent of my last week in the Boston and Cape Cod. There is a crispness to fall mornings in that few weeks before the dew frosts and the chill becomes uncomfortable.
Almost two weeks ago my husband's grandfather passed. In a crazy moment we packed up the car, put our almost three year old into the carseat and headed to Boston. 32 hour drive one way, yeah it was fun. The funeral was beautiful and the family was (as usual with an older passing) both pleased and sad.
My husband has often talked about the tones of the books he's reading - one of his favorites is a particularly melancholy piece by Jacqueline Carey. He says that it reflects real life. Life is not always fun and kinky sex, not always excitement and happiness. Sometimes books need to reflect that. Sometimes they need to show real more than fantasy, and sometimes a person can connect to them more even if they are fantasy.
If you take into account the three authors that have gone "viral" in the past few years - J.K. Rowling, Stephanie Meyer, and E.L. James, all pieces have a very strong aspect of melancholy, a realness that despite fantasy (especially in the first two) connects a reader with the characters and with the mood.
So often erotica forgets the story, or touches lightly on it and offers the titillation without the deep character connection, and in many cases that is ok - there is a market for both, and some authors (myself included) do both depending on their mood. That is the glory of self publishing or being well known - you can do what your mood requests, but being open and aware of the fact that it may be met with dislikes.
I really liked the quote J.K. Rowling provided about her upcoming adult fiction piece, "The worst that can happen is that everyone says, 'Well, that was dreadful, she should have stuck to writing for kids' and I can take that."
Allow yourself to stretch and try new things, stretch those outlines you have given yourself, try longer and shorter pieces. . . life is too short to stick to the m
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