Porn Books

Before you get any ideas, I’m not talking about books with graphic pictures or a Karma sutra encyclopedia.  I’m talking about good old fashioned smutty romance novels.  You know, the ones you hide in the back of your closet so company won’t happen to see them, and read late at night when it’s inconvenient to wake up your husband even though you’d really like to…yeah, those ones.

As I’ve mentioned before, I wasn’t a big reader until a few years ago, and I certainly hadn’t ever read a romance novel.  But when I did start reading, I asked around to see what other people were reading and one of those people was my mother-in-law (MIL).  Now, MIL loves romances novels with a passion (Ha! Get it, ‘passion’?) and she can read through a 300 pager in a day, so it wasn’t a big surprise when she handed a whole pile of them.  It was, however, a surprise when I began to read them!

I will admit here that I was a bit naïve when it came to exactly what was in those books and the first one I read was a bit of a shock for me.  I’m certain I was blushing just reading it and possibly blushing for days after that just thinking about it.  But the first one I picked up happen to be the first in a series and the story line was actually very interesting so I went ahead and read the rest of the ones the author had out and made a note to keep track of her new releases.

Flash forward a few years to a blistering cold winter’s day with no heat in the house, due to a power outage, and a writer friend mentioning the book she was reading didn’t have any kissing or even heavy flirting by page 100.  Compelled to find a good kissing scene for her I went to my closet and pulled a book out of what I affectionately call my Smutty Stack.  This book was also from MIL and I’d tried to read it before, but the first time I picked it up I could barely get through the first thirty pages without the sex being so graphic that I had to put the book down and walk away…far away.  The book was so dirty that if it’d been made into a movie it would be so X rated even the actors would be embarrassed to watch it.

But that’s what I was looking for, right?  A good kissing scene.  Ok, maybe not that kind of kissing scene, but it was the one that stuck out in my mind…for obvious reasons.  Anyway, I wrapped myself in a several blankets, turned to the approximate page of the scene and began to read, and read, and read.  And a few hours later I was no longer under the blankets and I’d finished the book.  Not only did I read the book the whole way through, I went back to my Smutty Stack to see if I had the next one in the series.

Luckily…I do!

I guess sometimes you just need a little sex to keep you warm.  (Take that however you like.)

Oh! And here's a little mood music for you...

I Am A Writer

Admittedly, I haven’t always loved to read and write.  In fact, it wasn’t until just a few years ago that I even incorporated those things into my regular daily routines.  But now, I can’t imagine my life without them and I feel like I’m constantly playing catch up with all the great books out there that I have yet to read and all the stories floating around in my head that I have yet to write.

Before the summer of 2008 I could count on one hand the number of complete novels I’d read for pleasure.  I never thought I had enough time to read and never really found anything I enjoyed enough to finish.  Then my best friend insisted I read a book that she loved and knew I would love it too…and she was right.  I couldn’t put it down.

The book happened to be the first in a series and I rushed right out to buy the whole set.  But when it ended I felt this incredible sinking feeling like I’d lost someone or something that had been so dear to me.  I called my BFF and told her how upset I was and you know what she told me…

“Read another book.”

And so I did.

As I mentioned in a previous post, a tragedy in my life caused me to write my first novel, but this also happened around the same time I had begun reading more.  Those events collided in a way that changed my life so much it’s hard to express the magnitude of that change here in this one short blog.  But the other day while visiting with my brother he asked me why I didn’t do a certain hobby I used to and my husband chimed in, “Because she’s a writer.”

That was it, I am a writer.  It was the first time my husband had said it that way, so simple yet so profound.  I am a writer.  I may not be as great at it as (insert name of your favorite writer here), but I am a writer.  And while I don’t earn an income yet from my writing, my day job is no longer the correct response to the question ‘What do you do?’ the correct response is…

I am a writer.

Are you?

Are you a 4 am writer?

There are very few books that I have stayed up past midnight to read, or as my husband likes to call it 'Pumpkin Time'. Normally my brain just stops functioning and I’m forced to go to bed.

But last night, or rather early this morning, I found myself captivated in a way that so rarely happens for me.  I found myself thinking ‘just one more page’ then ‘just one more chapter’.  When all was said and done I finished the book, turned out my light, put my head on my pillow and drifted off to sleep as my clock clicked to 4:03 am.

There are probably less books than I could count on one hand that I have done this with.  That is not to say I haven’t read a lot of books or haven’t found a lot of books I thoroughly enjoyed.  What I am saying is the power and the passion of the author’s writing made it physically impossible for me to put the book down until I had read every single word she’d written.

Most of my 4 am books have been unexpected, by authors I hadn’t read before or in a genre I don’t usually read.  My goal therefore is to be that kind of writer.  To share my stories with readers of all kinds in a way that makes it physically impossible to put them down.  I want my readers to eat meals with my books, go to the park with my books, stand on a subway platform and miss their train because of my books (though I don’t want anyone to be late for work).  I want my readers to go to bed with my books and stay up into the wee hours of the morning until they have read the last word on the last page and then leave them wanting to turn around and read the whole thing over again.

So from this day forward I pledge to write stories so captivating that when the clock strikes twelve they ignore the chime (and the rotting pumpkin) and keep right on reading.

I pledge to be a 4 am writer, do you?