First things’ first: You can preorder DIRTY DATES now! The print version drops November 10, and the ebook will be available November 16. And the cover is DELICIOUS.
Until then, please sate yourself with these hors d’oeuvres:
In other news, I am now available for editorial services and audiobook narration. Rates for both will be posted soon; until then, please email me for more information at sarataylorwoods@gmail.com.
Let the record show, first of all, that my CPs are the best CPs. Look what they got me! They even gave me a card that made me all emotional.
YEAH. I KNOW.
Soooo. GUYYYYYS.
I am SUPER HAPPY to report that Lana Popovic, of Zachary Shuster Harmsworth Literary Agency, has offered me representation, and that, oh my God, I’VE ACCEPTED.
*flails*
If you guys keep up at all with my twitter, you probably know that I’ve been slaving over this ms about a couple of kinky classical musicians. But that’s it, that’s the one, and oh man holy crapballs am I excited to do this thing.
Cheers!
*fires confetti cannon*
Oh hai.
I’m going to be at ConCarolinas in Charlotte again this year, apparently along with everyone and their mother. (Badges have sold out.) Mostly I’ll be hanging out with John Hartness, as he will have copies of THE BIG BAD for you to purchase and me to sign. A few of the infamous #nanopants crew will be there as well.
Oh yeah, and George R. R. somebody? I don’t know.
See you there!
So writing a new blog post after a long hiatus (6 months? EGAD) is a bit like running into an ex in a public place, and damn but they look just as good as they did when you broke up but small talk is awkward and you find yourself suddenly saying, “yeah, it is good to see you, I’ve missed you, too…”
The last six months have been nuts for me. I sprained my shoulder in October in a hilariously kind-of-badass way, and by the time it was healed, it was Christmas, and I work in retail, and… OH YEAH.
Blur and I got a puppy. And then we sort of got another one.
And also I sold some short stories. Well, more like story, story, puppy, puppy, story–eh. It doesn’t matter.
WHAT MATTERS, gentle readers, is that at least one of them signed-contract official. There’s no date yet, but hopefully the anthology will be out by the end of the year. GUNS AND ROMANCE is coming from Dark Continents Press and will be filled with enough awesome to blow your freakin’ mind.
My story, “Into the Wilderness,” is about two IDF soldiers, the only survivors of a roadside bomb, who hide in a cave, waiting for rescue. They’ve never admitted their attraction before, but out there, in the mountains just south of the Lebanese border, they realize they don’t want to die without acknowledging it.
I’ve also sold some fantasy and erotica, and have generally been insanely busy the past few months.
Because PUPPIES. And WORDS.
PREPARE THYSELVES for, well, a bit of a downer.
It may come as no surprise to any of you that writers die. I know, right? Tom Clancy most recently, and before that, Vince Flynn, both of whom were, frankly, way too young to go. And with NaNoWriMo looming dark and vicious before us, I’m going to talk about something that we writer types don’t really talk about a whole lot.
Health.
Yawn. I know. But here’s the thing: if you’re a full-time writer, you’re spending, what, 8 hours a day at your computer? Probably not at the right height, and probably not with great posture. You’re probably picking at jelly beans or candy corn and sucking on caffeiney goodness all day. And when you “take a break” from writing, chances are pretty good you’re still in your chair, mucking about on Twitter or Facebook or Tumblr or whatever your choice of internet time suck is.
If you’re not a full-time writer, you’ve probably got a job. And if you’re not a sucker like I am, it’s likely at a desk. In front of a computer. For 8 hours (sometimes more). And when you get off, you drive home (sitting down), maybe you relax with some TV or video games (probably sitting down), and then you crack those writerly knuckles, wiggle your writerly fingers over the keyboard and get to it. Sitting down.
GUYS. THIS IS TERRIBLE. Sitting down for insane stretches of time is really awful for your health. Seriously: there have been studies. When your circulatory system is sluggish and you’re not stretching your muscles (or even resting your eyes), you’re doing the only body you’ll ever have a huge disservice.
I know, I know: but I’m on a roll, and I have to keep going or I’ll never finish this scene and I KNOW EXACTLY HOW IT ENDS RIGHT NOW WHERE’S THE COFFEEEE
or
I haven’t gotten anything done and I can’t take a break from a blank page because I have no idea what I’m doing but I want this to be my job/this is my job, and I can’t just run around and fuck off for a bit because I HAVE THINGS TO WRITE I JUST DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE YET WHERE’S THE COFFEEEEE
I get it. Here’s the thing, brothers- and sisters-in-pens: if your brain’s stagnating, or you’re close to beating your head against the keyboard, take a freaking break. You don’t have to go out and run a marathon, or even a mile. I’ve had plenty of days where I got up from my chair because I was about to break something and went into the hallway and held a plank for 30 seconds, or did 10 push-ups, or both. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Your brain is an organ like anything else, and it requires blood to function. And when you get your blood moving… no, it’s okay, I’ll sit back and let you do the math.
I think we’ve all noticed a pattern of writers dying a whole lot younger than maybe they ought to. There’s a lot of pressure in the publishing business, and there’s a long-standing expectation of writers to be self-destructive, alcoholics, drug addicts, on and on. And many great writers have been–and many haven’t been. It isn’t, of course, mutually exclusive, but none of you really think that.
Ahem.
nerdfighter & #1 NYT bestselling YA author John Green has a motherfreaking TREADMILL DESK
What is important to remember is that THIS BODY YOU HAVE RIGHT NOW is it. That’s the one you get. That’s the one that houses your brain (that thing that makes with the words), and you want to take care of it. Beyond that, getting up and moving around and, oh yeah, having a vegetable once a week or so, is going to make you feel like a million bucks. Seriously. That’s not bullshit. And if you’ve got a limited budget or limited time (which, really, don’t we all have this problem), consider investing in a multi-vitamin. AND THEN TAKE THE DAMN THINGS. You are NOT going to have a fully functional body if all you feed it is coffee, booze, and fun-size Hershey bars.
NaNoWriMo, for many writers, is the time where they get to Live The Dream. They have a deadline, an obnoxiously high word count, and no excuse to take off work or raising children or anything. Don’t let it be an excuse to let your health go to shit. Don’t let “I’m tired” be an excuse, because the more you give in to “I’m tired,” the more tired you’ll be. Even if you just get up and walk to the bathroom every hour. Or every time you update your word count (which could be more frequently!).
Look, I’m not trying to rail against candy and chocolate and coffee and booze. TRUST ME. I love all those things–but I also love having enough energy to work an 8 hour day on my feet, go to the gym, eat dinner, and then sit down and writer 2,000 words. It’s a lot of work, guys, don’t get me wrong. But it’s doable. Treat yourself right, and you’ll return the favor.
Perks of working in a bookstore: your store manager tells you (does not ask) he’ll set up a book signing for the anthology you’ve got one measly story in.
(It’s this one.)
SO. I invited John Hartness and James R. Tuck, both of whom have other books to sign & foist upon you, to come to town and play with us.
Saturday, July 13, from 4-6 p.m.
Barnes & Noble
3400 Forest Drive
Columbia, SC 29204
Come get some evil.
YOU GUYS.
“Everybody loves bad guys, and these are some of the baddest of them all. Forget the rules. There aren’t any heroes. No one is going to save you from the wickedness in the darkness. Monster hunters can easily become the hunted. Twisted perverts can find themselves on the receiving end of their own deviant desires. No matter how big and bad someone or something may be, there is always something bigger and badder just waiting. Even the classics like a dragon, werewolf, or supernatural being can fall victim to something even more evil. Take a peek, if you dare, inside the malevolent world of super-villains, monsters, demons and just plain evil folk. Be careful, what you see there might be disturbingly familiar …”
This is up for order now on Barnes & Noble and Amazon, and for $2.99 on Nook and Kindle. It’s also on Goodreads, which is a huge f’ing deal to me. There may be some copies at ConCarolinas in Charlotte this weekend, so keep your fingers crossed. A bunch of the contributing authors (including yours truly) and at least one of the editors will be at the con this weekend. Come out and play!
Local folks, keep your eyes peeled on updates about a signing (!).
“Write what you know” is one of those nebulous pieces of Writing Advice that everyone picks up along the way. It’s something that no one bothers to explain, because it seems such a simple concept–sort of like “show, don’t tell,” which I didn’t puzzle out until like 2 years ago, but that’s another story. Because, at first glance, writing what you know sounds pretty restrictive.
Never sold a car? Can’t write a car salesman!
Never been to Europe? Can’t write Europe!
Don’t have a penis? Can’t write a male POV!
All of this, however, is complete and total bullshit. What “write what you know” means, in actuality, is write whatever the hell you want, but know what you’re talking about. If you’re writing a car salesman, and you don’t know shit about sales, cars, or corporate America, maybe you should do your homework. Will it help if you’ve actually done it, or if you know someone who has? Of course. But that isn’t always an option, and you shouldn’t restrict yourself, because no one can do everything.
So what does “write what you know” really mean? It means never stop learning.
I write urban fantasy, and sometimes violent things happen. But I’ve never been in a fight, I’ve never killed anyone, and I’ve never seen a dead body. I don’t actually want to experience these things, but I have managed to gather into the fold people who have. I’m taking a martial arts class, and one of my beta readers used to work for the Sheriff’s Department. The first few drafts of fights and dead bodies were awful and will never see the light of day. Hell, I wrote a sex scene when I had no business writing one and it was terrible.*
The point is this: what you do, as a fiction writer, is write LIFE. I’ve mentioned this before, but it is very fucking important that you remember your role as author. Authors/characters/books/series are popular when readers can relate to them. They’ve got to find something in the character, or the situation, that resonates within them, something that makes them point at the book and shout, “Yes! That! Exactly that!” It’s your job to find the life in a thing and poke it until it’s articulate, then put it out there on the page. So if you’re just bopping along, saying nothing important or poignant about life, no one’s going to give a damn about what you have to say. It’s only when you get the essence of a thing, of an event or a feeling or a person, that people feel that connection.
If you’re a female geologist who’s never left Mississippi, you can write a male car salesman from France. You just have to do some research.
Okay. A LOT of research. But that’s the fun part, right?
Come on.
Live a little.
*Disclaimer: I’m not saying go out and have sex if you want to learn to write a sex scene. I’m saying that what you see in movies (porn and mainstream) is not the way it actually works. But if you do want to roll around in the hay for the life experience, please use a condom. End PSA.
Last weekend, I went to Memphis! Which, for the record, is a really balls-long drive from the homebase. I didn’t really do many of the traditional Memphis Things–we hit Beale Street for long enough to grab lunch (BBQ=noms) and get rained on for a while. We drove past Graceland, and I think there’s a picture somewhere on my phone. With all the coffee and the beer I had at lunch, everything was really just a journey between bathrooms.
But then! The con. Let me start off by saying I have never been to a more rockin’ con than this one, nor one quite as sexually-harrassy. Women! At SF/F/comics conventions! What wondrous strange creatures we be! New rule, bros: if what you’re about to say to me (or any woman) would get you slapped by your mama, keep your damn mouth shut. And to the purveyors of fine, free adult beverages at MSC: learn when to cut someone off. Free beer is great! For normal people who know that 14 is probably too many, but unfortunately, some people can’t quite make that decision on their own. So stop serving them before they throw up on my Chucks or into the Pepsi cooler right next to my head. Judging by what went down Friday night, I feared for the integrity of the hotel structure on Saturday night–but apparently all the real asswads got thrown out before they could do permanent damage.
All this aside, I love cons, you guys. Once you separate the wheat from the chaff, you meet some of the most amazing people you might not otherwise get to run into. Hell, I’ve even got a regular con crowd I run with that I very rarely see outside of the circuit (signings, on occasion), who primarily consist of this guy and also this dude. I met him, her, him, the high priestess of steampunk, and almost broke this guy‘s hand (he’s exaggerating, but wrote me a nice note when he signed my book). And when does this happen in real life?
The biggest news of the weekend is that I got to pitch my novel to a real, live editor! During dinner! In front of four other people! Three of whom are published authors! I didn’t puke on her shoes, and she didn’t call the cops, so I think it went well.
Next up: ConCarolinas, Charlotte, NC, May 31-June 2. Especially if you’re a writer, you should definitely check this one out. It’s got a really low creep factor, and despite being a little on the small side, pulls some really big names (like USA Today Bestselling Kalayna Price and New York Times Bestselling Carrie Ryan). Oh yeah, and FREAKING TIMOTHY ZAHN is this year’s literary guest of honor, so come on, people. It’s like $40 for the whole weekend, and so ridiculously worth it.
ALL HAIL GLEN COOK, THE MAN WHO INVENTED MY GENRE
…and also other things. God, I love cons, you guys.
Sara Taylor Woods 
