Reviews, comments, and criticisms, and praise

This week's topic revolves around my short story "Brazen" published on "East End of the Web". Today, I focus on the many different comments and the diversity of them. It's almost funny and I think, teaches a lesson, one I've also learned working customer service at the day job. You can't please every one all the time. It's impossible. What one person loves and thinks is perfect, the next one absolutely hates, often for the same exact reasons. I wrote this story many many years ago. In fact, I don't even remember which year and I had forgotten all about it until I received a recent very favorable email about it that made my day. The comments range from "It sucked" to "unrealistic" to "Nice story. Enjoyed reading it" all the way to "I love it! I love it! I LOVE IT!!! I write stories like this. It hooked me from the very first sentence! Really great job!!!" Honestly, if memory serves, it was just a quick short story I wrote for my website when I was starting out, that I later posted on East End of the Web. I don't recall expecting it to be the next Great American Novel but just a cute, quick short story. It's good to see what readers think as I usually don't hear a lot of feedback from them. It makes me think I'll write more short stories to post there to see what kind of reaction I get. I've thought of that over the years, then opt out to actually sell the story to a royalty paying publisher. But it's also good to have free promo in many spots as my advertising budget right now frankly sucks. So after I finish my huge judging project and at least 2 sets of edits, I'll start writing a short story here and there for promo and post it again on East End of the Web or other popular writing sites. My younger daughter loves http://www.fanfiction.net/ and reads their stories all the time. That's probably another excellent place to post free short stories. If you're a reader, please tell me, if you ever found a writer by reading a free short story and if you followed them to their other books. If you're also a writer, please tell me if you ever post free short stories to give as samples of your stories and if you think you've gained readership?

Writing and Reading Short Stories and Novelettes vs. Novels

I'd like to segue from yesterday's post about my short story "Brazen" published on East End of the Web. Yesterday I explored comments about is romance too unrealistic and if fantasies are bad or good as well as women's vs. men's fantasies. The comment I mentioned yesterday begs another, totally unrelated question. "How much do readers expect writers to put into a short story?" If a story is publicized as a short romantic story, I'd expect a quick romance, or at least a quick reconciliation. "Short" really does mean "short". Right? In the world of romance reading, "short story" is different from "novelette", "novel", and "super". The majority of readers are savvy about the terminology and thus what to expect. In case you missed yesterday's post (of course you could just scroll down and read it now :) ) here's the comment that made me ponder all this: "Very mills n boon.sappy n unreal.thts not romance.women always write fantasy stuff instead of finding romance in real life daily stuff.no wonder girls get their heart broken everyday,its cause theyre brainwashed by such material.all in all i didnt enjoy it cuz it makes u less hopeful in fallin in love.n perfection doesnt exist.love is so much more than fantasy n lust" I don't begrudge the reader his or her comment. But it seems unrealistic to me that someone who reads a short romantic story wouldn't expect it to be on the fantasy side. Unless it's a recant of a real romance, then a short romance would have to skip a lot of things so it can be short. Recently, (which you may have noticed) I've been writing a lot of short stories. I work full time and the kids tug at me a lot to cart them around to Halloween bashes, trick or treating, getting costumes, scouts, softball, etc. etc. There's only so many hours in a day and personally, I like to produce a lot - I think it's the ADHD in me. Short stories and novelettes releasing several times a year feels like a big accomplishment vs. one or two releases a year if I solely concentrated on longer stories. (However, I do have 3 full-size novels on submission with publishers right now, so I've not given up on them.) I like to write meaty stories that get deep into relationships, too. I love to read them. But sometimes, if I'm tired, but not too tired to go to sleep yet, I just want to read a short piece all in one sitting and get my romance fix. Writing short isn't easy, believe me. Now that I've had more practice it's easier than I once found it. I used to find it way more difficult to get everything into a short story instead of having the luxury of 50,000 words plus to get it all down. I really struggled to pare down short stories to under 15,000 words, in particular if they were also in the erotic romance genre. Perhaps it looks easy while reading it if you've never tried to write one, but it's not. Not for me, anyway. And not for some of my writing buddies who would much rather writer longer 100,000 word stories than stories of 15,000 words or less. Obviously writers earn more per story in royalties from a long story as the publishers charge more for the book. However, my biggest seller and biggest royalties ever came from a short story in the anthology "And Lady Makes Three" published by Elloras Cave. That's when I decided that my time would be well spent writing shorter. After all, my business training taught me to work smarter, not harder. That's not to negate what I wrote above. Short stories, at least until my mind set and skills were honed to write short, were much more difficult to write. However, they still took less time than writing a 100,000 word story. I guess I didn't get my MBA and bachelor's in Accounting for nothing (for a few years I seriously wondered about that). Also, so many stories are tugging at me to be written, short and long, it's almost impossible to decide which one gets the honor of being written next. Prioritizing which story to write next should be another separate topic. Here's a short excerpt from "And Lady Makes Three" published by Ellora's Cave.

An Excerpt From: PIRATE’S BOOTY

(from the "And Lady Makes Three" anthology)

Copyright © ASHLEY LADD, 2005.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Keir’s warm breath tickled her neck. “Something troubling you, Princess?”

Her hand grasped her throat in shocked alarm.

“I have a name. Would it hurt you so terribly to use it?” She exhaled slowly as she turned to find him barely kissing distance away. Lifting her lashes slowly, she gazed up at him. Not as tall as his colleague, he was the perfect height, his nose level with the top of her head. His lips rested at her eye-level and from this distance, they looked ideal, too. Usually, she couldn’t see them for his full beard, but at this distance, she could see them very clearly.

“Melena.” Keir caressed her name as no other had before him. It rolled off his tongue like the richest Synkethian milk chocolate.

Mesmerized by his dark, sultry voice, a minute gasp escaped her lips. Quivers of lust racked her, and a strange twinge resounded between her legs. It might not hurt him terribly to use her given name, but apparently it made her ache. But it was too late to take it back now.

Realizing she stared as if he were her last supper, she cursed silently and forced herself to act nonchalant. She was chained by a thousand different prisons and had no right to quiver at his nearness or devour his lips with her gaze. Too late to act as if everything was sunny when she probably looked as if she were about to go nova so she confessed to the partial truth. At least, he wouldn’t hear a lie in her voice. “What if we’re never rescued?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she swept her gaze wide in an all-encompassing arc around the glade where they’d moved their camp. Lifting her chin high, she tried to sound confident, but her voice emerged strangled. “What if we spend the rest of our days on this planet, completely alone, except for the three of us?”

Keir raised his hand as if to stroke away the stray wisps of hair from her heated face, but it hovered mid-air and then dropped limply to his side. “We have to be optimistic. We can’t give up hope.”

If it were only the two of them, she and Keir, it could be paradise. But three? She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Someone would be the odd man out and that spelled trouble.

Uncomfortably hot, bored, and frustrated, she glared. “Why? Shouldn’t they have found us by now if they were searching? My people must think me dead from the explosion. They may not have launched any missions of rescue.”

Keir slid a finger under her chin and forced her to look him square in the eye. His were deep, murky pools that she could happily drown in. “Because we’ll go crazy if we give up. Because you’re much stronger than that. We’re not just going to lie down and die…”

Published by Ellora's Cave

Romantic fantasy - is it good or bad?

I wrote a story several years ago, posted it on East of the Web and forgot all about it. Until about a week ago. It's called "Brazen". Apparently it's been racking up a lot of comments which I just checked out today. Why? Because an audio publisher also found it and has approached me about publishing it. Wahoo! That was the easiest sale I've ever made even if it was the longest wait. :) Anyway, I reread it just now and then checked out what other people had to say. I'm not finished with all the comments yet as I got stopped by this one: "Very mills n boon.sappy n unreal.thts not romance.women always write fantasy stuff instead of finding romance in real life daily stuff.no wonder girls get their heart broken everyday,its cause theyre brainwashed by such material.all in all i didnt enjoy it cuz it makes u less hopeful in fallin in love.n perfection doesnt exist.love is so much more than fantasy n lust" It reminds me of something my husband told me years ago. He, too, echoed this guy's (I presume it's a man who wrote this from the tone) sentiment that romance novels give women unrealistic notions of love. Um... Do Rambo and Die Hard movies make all men feel as if they can save the world, fight off the bad guys, get the girl, and shoot up everybody, do inhumanly impossible things, and survive? That seems to be a man's fantasy and they don't think women should worry or complain they have that. Also, although men (at least my hubby) loves this Die Hard stuff, I don't see him shoot a gun or even climb a tree. He seems to know the difference. Can't men give us the same credit? Personally, I love my day job and my love - most aspects. But sometimes it's damned hard and sad and stressful, whether it's because the kids are fighting nonstop, or a nasty donor's cussed me out for something that's not personally my fault, or because some idiot tail-gated me all the way home, or because another hurricane devastated Haiti and we're doing our damndest to help and knowing it's not enough. After any one of those stresses, much less several combined, I need to escape. My preferred escape is to write or read a romance novel where I know everything will turn out happy in the end. I presume the guys like Rambo and Die Hard at least a little bit because Bruce Willis and Sly Stallone survive and made the world a better place. Although sometimes, I swear my husband loves the blood and gore of watching all the cars crashing and burning, blood and guts. I think that should worry me way more that he likes violence than the fact that a woman likes the happily ever after of love. I know people say women come from Venus and men from Mars, that our chemistry is different, but whoa! That's pretty different. I respect the reader's opinion, but I also keep my right to disagree with it. Several of the other comments were very positive and obviously the publisher liked it a lot. :) The comment isn't getting me down, just making me think. Not for the first time. Perhaps when I was young I was so caught up in the romantic fantasy that I made a major mistake. Oh well. Live and yearn. In case I've wet your appetite to see my story, here's a small excerpt and the link. It's published under one of my pseudonyms so don't be confused. :)

Brazen by Ashley Ladd for your reading pleasure at: East End of the Web "Ugh!" Stephanie Dwyer slammed her apartment door and stomped her foot. "Creep!" A picture fell off the wall and shattered. Water logged, droplets dripped from her nose, her hair, and her eyelashes, pooling at her feet. She scowled. Her new high heels were utterly ruined. Courtney hid a chuckle behind her hand. Pointing the remote control at the television, she clicked off the sitcom she'd been watching. Her lips crooked into a half smirk. "This one turned into a jerk, too?" Stephanie dropped her purse onto the coffee table and flopped onto the couch. She kicked her shoes off, scaring the cat who ran into the other room. Staring at the ceiling, she said, "All men should crash and burn." "That good?" Courtney sat forward, flicking her long black hair behind her shoulders. "There's got to be a couple of good men out there. All we need is one good man each. Is that too much to ask?" Stephanie lifted pained eyes to her roommate and best friend. "I don't think there's two good guys in this whole universe. I give up. I've had it. I'm not kissing any more toads." Courtney looked thoughtful, tapping her chin with her forefinger. "Maybe we've been looking in the wrong universe." Her friend was losing it big time. "What are you talking about?" Handsome Patrick had seemed so perfect, so wonderful. Until she'd caught him with Alyssa tonight, telling her the moon and stars shone only for her, that they were soulmates - the same pathetic lines he'd snared her with. Some soulmate! Jumping to her feet, Courtney paced in front of her. "What we need is a vacation away from the city to someplace totally different." "With totally different kinds of men." Despite herself, her interest was piqued. "We need men who are the opposite of the bozos we've been finding here. No more big shot professionals." Courtney grinned from ear to ear. "No more men who drive Mercedes." "Or who wear Rolex's." Steph started to feel alive again. "Or who drink champagne." Courtney downed a sip of her diet soda. Mischief danced in her dark eyes. "Give me a down to earth man who guzzles beer." The spirit grabbed Steph, rejuvenating her. "Give me a man who wears boots!" Courtney slapped her thigh. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Steph couldn't help but crack a smile. "Let's catch ourselves a couple of cowboys." "Yahoo!" Courtney crossed the room and turned on the computer.

To read more, go to East End of the Web.