Are You Trying To Shame Me?

Cause you’re gonna have to try a little harder to make that shit work for you. I’m not ashamed. Not at all. Not one iota. I write romances. I read romances. And I LIKE that I do.

Wanna look down your nose at me? Fuck you.

Give me a minute, bet I can find something out about you that I can make into a shame sequence. Seriously? After all the shit that women get, now we’re getting shit because of the material we read? Bitch, please. Be happy that WE ARE READING AT ALL.

Wanna call me names? Fuck you… AGAIN.

I get the disparaging remarks about “mommy porn” as you laugh uncomfortably and look away. I get the light scoff/snort as you discuss the merits of romances being written at all, much less read–gasp–by a large percentage of the populace. I get the looks of derision and scorn when certain titles are mentioned and the genres they represent. I get it. I don’t understand it. But I get that some people feel that way.

All this was precipitated because of a blog post, Dear Columists, romance fiction is not your bitch, by Kat Mayo in the Drum. In that article, Kat defends the romance genre, romance writers and romance readers. And she does so brilliantly.

But you know what pisses me off? Feminists–who, by the way, are by and large WOMEN–are trying to shame other WOMEN for reading and writing in a genre that showcases WOMEN. And then the argument devolves into people pointing out that women are other women’s biggest adversary in today’s world. Wake the fuck up.

Wanna know the biggest adversaries to women in today’s world? Lack of education. Shitty health care. Disparate treatment in the workforce. And the list goes on because the list is fucking LONG, yo.

What ISN’T the biggest stumbling block for other women is WOMEN. Yes, there are times that women will argue. So what? I argue with dudes too when they’re fucking WRONG. My arguing with a women doesn’t automatically mean I’m being catty cause I have a vagina as well. It just means I don’t give a shit what gender you are when I point out that I think YOU ARE WRONG.

Talk about circling back. Dude, seriously. What is WRONG is dismissing the romance genre in its entirety because there happen to be one or ten shitty romance writers. Here, let me lay out my thesis in clear bold language. THE ROMANCE GENRE IS THE ONLY GENRE THAT MAKES WOMEN THE FOREFRONT AND CENTER OF THE STORY.

Let me say that again. Because it’s important. Really fucking important. The Romance genre is the only genre that makes women the forefront and center of the story.

No other genre does that. Not sci-fi. Not westerns. Not literary fiction. Not middle grade fiction. Not thrillers. Not horrors. Not picture books. Not cookbooks. Not devotionals. Not fantasy. Not histories. Not poetry. Not one other genre makes women the centerpiece of the story.

And that boys and girls never happens in real life. Not really. Women are secondary characters in real life. Every once in a while, we’ll have the token women break through and get her own story, but that happens so rarely as to be statistically irrelevant. And when it does, the larger story hers is contained within is usually the man’s story. Don’t believe me? Crack open any history book. Ever. Shit, crack open a historical fiction book and although the story might seem like it’s about the girl, it’s about the dudes in the book. Really. You just get the reaction perspective from the women’s point of view in regards to what the dudes are doing. So being told in the feminine perspective doesn’t mean the story places the woman at the forefront, at the center, as the CRUX of the story.

The romance genre has been doing that since the genre developed. Women, and some men, reading about women navigating their shitty societies and societal restrictions, figuring shit out, being the REASON for the story. And yes, real women know there aren’t that many happy endings. Shit. WE KNOW. We know there are things in the books that aren’t realistic. Dude. WE KNOW. But there is a measure of empowerment and satisfaction from immersing oneself into a world where a women’s story as she navigates her life and relationships isn’t secondary, or an afterthought, or an addendum.

And really, isn’t it easy to bash the romance genre because it involves women? Doesn’t it seem that we’re all a little quicker to bash the things women like, read, or want? I don’t need to be shamed because someone else thinks my reading and writing material isn’t up to intellectual snuff. I don’t need someone denigrating me because of my choice in genre. Didn’t we already go through this in the science fiction genre and the horror genre. All this name-calling because someone else’s opinion renders an ENTIRE class of writing dismissed.

Part of being a free women today means I get to read what the fuck I want. AND I feel no shame. It also means that I get to write the fuck I want. And again, I FEEL NO SHAME.  Shame has no place in literary discourse of any kind. Discuss the merits of the work, or body of works, and have rational discussions about this. Even if we agree to disagree. I don’t NEED to argue someone to my point of view. I could really give a shit less what you think, or what you read, or whatever. And even if I thought it was shit, I wouldn’t disparage the entire genre or you as a person for reading that shit. You’d probably never know. Because reading material is individual and what we get out of a reading is also individual. So one book for me might be shit and it might have been the greatest book you’ve ever read. That’s cool.

But don’t tell me I’m perpetuating the stereotypes of a type of women that you might find distasteful. In doing that, you are doing nothing more than what the patriarchal system has been telling women all along. You shouldn’t do this because it isn’t feminine has now become you shouldn’t do this because it’s TOO feminine. Fuck you. Determine your level of femininity or lack thereof and then do that. Don’t look around and tell other people to do that too, and if they don’t do what you tell them then say they suck because that just makes YOU SUCK.

My reading and writing material doesn’t make me more or less feminine. Neither does it determine my commitment level to feminism. All it says is that I want to read a story where the central figure and the story is about a women living her life. That is all.

So if you’ve got shit to say to me about my reading and/or my writing material and its start out with the romance genre sucks… just shut the fuck up. There’s only one place the shame in the situation should be sitting. And it’s not on my shoulders. And I won’t thank you for trying to lay that shit at my feet. Keep it. I’ve got enough shit to deal with. I so don’t need yours.

 

Being Creative Outside the Box

Several years back, I was given a book called the Artist’s Way. I was having a mental and emotional crisis in that I was just plain exhausted. Working full time, being a full time mom to two boys, a wife, a daughter, a sister, etc. had taken its toll. And I was spent.

I started working through the workbook, only doing those things I could without adding more stress to my life. And slowly as I took myself out on dates, bought little presents for myself and began to explore creative outlets of which I was so not talented, my mental fatigue began to lift. My life hadn’t changed, but my brain was being recharged anyway. It was an eye-opening experience.

There wasn’t a better way for me to learn the lesson that I MUST take care of myself first BEFORE I can take care of others. Those small little things that I did for myself made me happy and taught me I was just as deserving of my time and attention as everyone else. Take care of yourself first and everything else will follow.

I took myself on lunch dates, movie dates and to museums and art galleries and anywhere that struck my fancy. I bought myself little stickers and colored pencils and postcards. The things I did for myself weren’t expensive. They didn’t
take a lot of time. I didn’t search out exotic and unique stuff. I just picked shit that made me smile. And then I took my happy ass to those places. Sometimes, I’d go with others, but most times I went by myself.

I’m a shitty artist. I drew and colored anyway.

I’m a shitty poet. I wrote the worst poetry EVAR!

I found out I’m pretty shitty at a lot of things. I also found out that I have an assload of fun being shitty at a lot of things.

Today, I decided to teach myself French cooking. I have purchased Julia Child’s 2 volumes cookbook set (yes, that’s how I spent part of my Amazon settlement monies) and I aim to work myself through French technique over the next few months. I might even take a class if I can find one by a classically trained French chef. The chef doesn’t have to be French, just her cuisine. 😉 This is the creative endeavor I’ve chosen for right now. Who knows, I might take up pottery next (and if you have a creative suggestion, please tell!!). Because even though I’m not doing the 9-5 that I was before when I first fell exhausted and spent, writing does take a lot out of you. And to fill the creative well, I stay vigilant to ensure my creative barrel is topped off.

I will probably not pick writing related creative outlets for my self “dates.” It’s one of the reason I choose cooking this time around. Going to concerts and galleries and exposing myself to the creative endeavors of my fellow artists can’t help but spool up ideas in my own mind. Besides without real life experiences, fiction just rings hollow if written by someone who hasn’t experienced some of what the writer is writing about. I think discovering new art fields, finds and niches is a brilliant way to make my mind stay fresh and bright and charged.

I can’t wait to taste all my goody French cuisine. I’m no Iron Chef, but I think I can get damn close.

What Kind of Writer Are You?

I’m not really sure, but it doesn’t seem to me that other professions get asked this question based on the medium of their art. I’m a writer. And author on days I want to sound snooty. I’m not a self-pubbed author, or a trade pubbed author, or a hybrid author, or whatever-insert your word in the blank here-author. I’m just an author. Sometimes my work gets to the public via different methods, mediums and modes of publication. But the how of it; that is, how my work gets published,  doesn’t define the what I am.

Stop trying to fucking box me in. I need to be labeled so you can feel secure about all the upheaval and change occurring as a result of the digital revolution finally-finally-hitting books, and book stuffs and book peoples. Don’t lay your shit of needing to tell me what I am at my feet. Keep that shit to your self.

No one goes around saying George Clooney is a traditional actor-or- George Clooney is an indie actor. Nope. They just call him an actor. The awards he gets are for acting REGARDLESS of the type of movie he’s in. Maybe the movie gets minted for an indie category or a traditional category or some such, but the producers, actors, camera peeps, well, everyone just gets called by their title and not by the their title in addition to the types of films they make. Same goes for artist. No one goes around saying he/she/it is an indie painter or a traditional sculptor. No, they just say she’s a painter or he’s a sculptor.

So why the fuck is the fascination for authors to be labeled by their  mode of publication so goddamn hot?

I dunno. But it seems to me, and trust me- I’m a women and a minority- every time someone is trying to pigeon-hole you or label you or stick you in a fucking box, they are doing it out of fear or jealousy or anger or some other negative emotion that makes them react by making you seem smaller, more manageable, tame. And stop labeling yourself. You do yourself no favors. You’re HELPING them box yourself in. They’ve co-opted you in your further marginalization of being relegated to a convenient “label” and forgotten or written off or whatever.

There is a lot of movement going on in an industry that probably hasn’t seen such movement since the moveable type was invented. Some big Houses couldn’t cut it and either went under, got absorbed or went defunct. Consolidation in brick and motor bookstores, the decimation of the independent bookstores, used bookstores has lead to issues as has the digital publishers arrival onto the scene. Shit is happening peeps. And people are fucking scared. But NOW is a time of opportunity. Only, they want to stick you with a label and call it done.

What kind of writer am I? The kind that writes. And chooses were to seek publication based on a variety of factors, the least of which is what you want to call me. The LEAST of which is what you want to call me. So, I’m NOT an indie author, or a traditional author, or a hybrid author, or any-other-thing-you-want-to-call-me-author. I’m just a writer, who’s sometimes an author, who loves having CHOICE in the method of disseminating my work to the public. Don’t label me and try to make me fit your idea of who I am. In fact, don’t do that for any author.

They are authors. I am an author. Period.

The Government Watches Us… We Should Watch Back

I’m not a crazy alarmist. I’m just crazy. lol Seriously, I KNOW when people say things like this, it sounds crazy. Plus, there’s this whole laziness factor to add in as well. Then there are elements of disbelief because… it just can’t be. But it is. Parts of our society have gone to seed, been allowed to run rampant with unfettered access to power and position as we watch on.

Do I think our government is evil? No. It’s populated with people as well, who are just as lazy as the rest of us. But when the general population is being all lazy and shit, we isolate and want everyone to leave us the hell alone. When government gets lazy, something else happens. Corners are cut and shortcuts are taken. Only the people who represent our government do this, its the general population that ends up paying.

So what started all this? Just watching video after video of cops pulling people over and going beyond the scope. So, here’s the deal. It used to be that some cops had cameras on their cars. It got pulled because there were too many incidents that made the cops look unfavorable. So many departments got rid of them. So my bright idea is to have citizen filmers.

That’s right. We all have smart phones and some of us carry around small video cameras. Film traffic stops and various other cop/citizen interaction. Then upload it onto youtube so that interested parties can access it. Tag it with date, time and city/state and crossroads.  As more videos are uploaded, it’ll be like the largest grass roots reality TV show ALL on youtube. Not only do we keep everyone in check, we get some good entertainment as well. Win/win, dude. What the hell are we waiting for?

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Examples of why we need to watch our government, starting with the police.

Hundred’s Protest Albuquerque’s Trigger-Happy Police Department

One Year Blog Anniversary

Today’s the one year anniversary of my blog. March is also the month I finished my first full length novel. Yes, that’s right. March of last year was when I finished my first full length novel. It amazes me that it happened at all. Still. Today.

This isn’t going to be a long post. Just a little something to commemorate today. So this is my jumping up and down for joy… in writing. 🙂

Hopefully, next year– I will be able to write another little post of goodness.

 

The Gay Sidekick

I’ve noticed a trend lately in my reading. I don’t get to read a lot anymore so when I do get to put my grubby fingers on a book, I am uber excited. I want a more diverse cast of characters. I really, really do. But what I don’t want is for every gay supporting character to be a hot chocolate mess. Look, not every gay person is a slut, whore, has mommy/daddy issues and is generally all fucked up. Occasionally, a straight person is this way as well. And if you’re not straight or gay, then the chances of you being cra-cra increases exponentially. But I digress.

Trending in books, especially the contemporary romances I read are totally jacked up gay dude sidekicks. Like it’s a thing. Not to even begin to touch the cliche-ness of including such a character, it’s lazy.

Not that every fucked up gay supporting character is too much, but rather there just aren’t enough to populate all the books. See, there are reasonably well-rounded gay people in this world. But for some reason they don’t get written about. It’s either the flamer, the regretter, or the dude who will drown in liquid flames before he burns out completely– in the books, but not paralleled in real life. A few sprinkled here and there in novels wouldn’t be amiss. I bet it would track demographics. But all the books I’m reading that has a gay character is totally fucked up. Statistically, I know this can’t be true. I have gay friends and they range the gamut. Still, disparate per capita of fucked up gay dudes is noticeable. Almost as noticeable as all the god damn female virgins running around.

And yes, I did a post of how much I HATE the use of the virginity trope in romance. Not just because it places a premium on female virginity that is so steeped in patriarchal beliefs I hesitated to even acknowledge it in this post. But I did. Anyway, I digress. Ummm, yeah cause, taking the easy, lazy, shitty way out pisses me off and makes me feel bad for an entire segment of our population. Virgins and fucked up gay dudes alike.

I want three dimensional characters. People who are a little fucked, got some shit together, are real good at one or two things, and in general, are just regular normal messed up people. Not these super fucked up gay dudes who must have all of the problems because they like the butt sexx.

Seriously? Grow up. Meet some diverse people. Include them in your writing. Stop with the two dimensional cardboard caricatures. My reading needs have matured. Fictional characters need to as well. Give me depth. Give me the spectrum of who we are as people, persons and how we relate to the world around us.

Until then, if you have a really messed up gay dude character and he/she is messed up because they are gay or from sex or dicks and vaginas, I’m gonna have to pass.

Random Thoughts

I always thought New Year’s resolutions were completely stupid. Not a little dumb, or even a small amount of not-so-bright. But out and out moronic.

Needless to say, I’ve had a change of heart. Yes, I still think resolutions are an arbitrary goal set on a fake date to accomplish something, or at least feel like we accomplished something. However, if all of us set goals that are way out of our comfort range and maybe a bit into the stars, AND even if we fall short of the high mark we set for ourselves, we have still done something. Which is probably more than we would’ve done without setting that arbitrary goal on a fake day. So set a goal that’s way out of reach. Have fun trying to make it. And even if you don’t hit the finish line, know that you’ve gotten a lot further than many, many… many others. 😉

 

Happy New Year 2014

Another year. The ending of one and the beginning of the next.

Looking back… it’s been a good year. For my writing. For my personal life. 2013 is the year I decided to stop thinking about being a published writer and instead took steps to make that happen.

After my mom died, I realized that there’s no time like now. Sometimes, there are no tomorrows. Instead, today is the day. So I took a deep breath and took the leap. My second career dream was realized this past year. I’ve been lucky that way. My first career choice was awesome. Fabulous, really. It was just time to do something else. Writing was that something else.

Looking forward, I still have some milestones I want to reach. There are several goals that I hope to meet in the coming year. As spectacular as 2013 had been, I have a feeling that 2014 is going to be even better. At least, it will be for me.

My hope is that it will be a great year for all of you as well. Don’t let anything stop you from being and doing and becoming. You got 12 months in the next year. Start small and end LARGE.

Happy New Year, y’all! 🙂

Merry Christmas

I hate Christmas. I didn’t used to. I used to love it. But it’s become something crazy, something not right and something that is a little scary. It’s like the whole country is waiting with bated breath to see if the rest of us are willing to go into debt to ensure loved ones gets shit they don’t need or want or even asked for. Stupid.

Back in the day, my little nuclear family would travel to visit my extended family. And that’s what Christmas was about– getting together with family and friends and visiting with loved ones. Now, not so much. And it sucks.

It sucks so bad, I hate Christmas now. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday currently because it’s still about family and friends and getting together.

If Christmas didn’t suck so much, here’s what I’d wish for. I wish that each and every one of you reading this is healthy and safe. I wish that the world is kind to you. That you are loved as fiercely as you love. I hope that you have family and friends to share the good, the bad and the ugly. I wish each and every one of you peace and happiness.

Eat a piece of pie or cake for me. That’s the best gift I could be given. Sharing food and good times. Being thought of and thought of well. Of loving and being loved.

I wish you JOY!

Say Yes to Self-Defense

Been thinking a lot lately about the state of the world and women in it. Our common experience as women who live in a world populated with people who are bigger than us, stronger than us, hormonally more aggressive than us coupled with the vagaries of our various political structures, social networks and economic opportunities, and I’d bet you’d be surprised if I told you we as American, and western, women have more in common with our sisters in the middle east than we do without spouses lying in bed next to us. You are probably calling me crazy. Discounting my opinion.

If I told you that it is my considered opinion that women are still oppressed and treated as lesser class, you’d scoff and tell me that we’ve come so far, baby.

Then I’d point out that the likelihood of being raped isn’t so vastly different in different parts of the world. Sure, there are surges in war torn areas and areas filled with chaos. But in those areas who are just poor, just third world without so much external strife, the statistics are damning. And I’d go on to compare health care given (not merely available but actually accessed) is on par as well. There are far more parallels than opposites. Not even going into the similarities of how a society can keep an entire gender pinned down, the injury done to women physically is the same the world over. In just this one thing, being secure in our own bodies, every women on this planet is at risk. Most often, that risk comes from the home or the home neighborhood.

As the title of this post suggests, I want all women to begin to empower themselves. Take a gun class. Do I think a gun will make shit better tomorrow? No. But it will give you a feeling of empowerment. If you’re morally opposed to firearms, take a taser class or a stun-gun class or a pepper spray class. Take a damn class. Go to self-defense classes. Take martial arts. Become stronger in your body so it can help you get stronger in your mind.

None of these classes are intended to make you think you can take on a dude twice your size. The best and first course of action should always be to get away, get help and cause a commotion to get noticed. But maybe the class will give you the confidence to think of how to get away instead of falling apart, or to create an opportunity that can be exploited. It might be the difference between tragedy and triumph.

Every woman should be safe in her body. It is a travesty that this is not so. A many-pronged approach to resolving the problem needs to happen. One of those prongs is making women stronger in their bodies. There are all kinds of strength. By acquiring one, we help bolster them all.