From Writer to Author?

By H K Carlton (Guest Blogger)

I love to read. I don’t even remember the cognitive act of ‘learning’ how to read. It was just something I always knew how to do. I’ve found that most authors are voracious readers. It is a love of words and how you can string them together to paint a picture for someone else. To have your audience create in their own minds that scene you have envisioned from the beginning and to perhaps even feel the emotion those words were meant to evoke. As a writer there is no stronger praise than for your reader to feel your words.

I’ve always jotted things down but never really thought anyone else would be interested in my ramblings until this one particular idea wouldn't leave me alone. To make a long story short, (my editors would laugh at that statement, I’m kinda wordy) by the time I was finished I’d written my first historical romance. I knew this time was different. I’d really enjoyed creating and developing the characters; twisting and shaping the plot, taking it farther than I ever thought it would go. I asked my sister to read it. Which was a big step for me. I don’t think I’d allowed anyone to read my stories since creative writing class back in elementary school. But that’s something else I’ve found. Some writers are afraid of rejection, so we just don’t put ourselves out there; in the beginning, anyway. My sister liked it and she encouraged me to send it out. But she’s my sister, the one who has always had my back and encouraged me when I thought that I couldn’t do something. She’d tell me anything to make me feel good about myself. But, then again, she’d also never lied to me and she would never encourage me to do something that she knew in her heart I would fail at.

I decided to send out my first manuscript, all polished and pretty, or so I thought. I read up on the specific guidelines of potential publishers. And learned quickly that every publisher has a different set of requirements. Double-spaced or 1.5; Book Antiqua or Times New Roman font; first three chapters and final or the entire manuscript, saved as a .doc, .docx or .rtf... WTF!

And certainly always punctuated with the ever-daunting reminder that if even one of the specifications outlined are not followed, your work will be deleted without being reviewed. Then you wait. Anywhere from six weeks to ten months for a response, which can be even more unbearable if the publisher will not accept simultaneous submissions. Or worse yet, the publisher leaves you hanging in that state of angst-ridden limbo for a year and a half with several politely written if not error-filled e-mails (should have been my first clue right there) that 'your work has moved passed the first stage of review, however no decision has been reached, thank you for your continued patience'; until that patience runs out and you retract your submission out of pure self- preservation. (And then they don't even have the common courtesy to respond at all!) But I'm not bitter.

My manuscript was declined, once, twice, three times…

In the meantime I kept writing. I wrote a new historical romance from beginning to end. I started another story that took on a life of its own. I’m not even sure what genre it might fit into but I do know that if it sees the light of day, it will be a series. I wrote down anything and everything that came into my mind. I found the more I wrote down, the more room I had in my head for other stories to come through. It was like a flood of creativity. If I’d only known sooner.

Then I went through a period of not writing at all. I didn’t even read. I was so discouraged. What if I couldn’t cut it? Maybe I was not even a writer, so ‘author’ might just be unattainable. Maybe my stories only entertained me; perhaps they should stay in my head. But I’m lucky because I have some of the best cheerleaders in the world, in my children who also have great talents and big dreams that I pray someday they will also be fortunate enough to achieve. They wouldn’t allow me to give up. “Keep sending those manuscripts out, Mom, they’ll find a home.” My daughter even went as far as to find examples of famous authors who had been rejected in the beginning. A hundred times? Really? I didn't think I had the fortitude to struggle that long.

So, I sat down with my laptop and I started something completely different. Something I’d never done before. It wasn’t even my genre. It was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn’t even have the vocabulary for it. Who knew there were dictionaries and thesauruses for those kinds of words? Some I’d heard of, maybe even said a few times, some I’d never heard of and some I know that I will never use in my own writing. But I kept at it, finished it, polished it, did some much needed research and sent out my first erotic works to Total E-Bound for consideration, Chapters 1-3 and Final. And to my surprise I was asked to submit the entire manuscript. And to my utter disbelief and excitement I was offered my first contract to be published.

So, is that it? Is that the distinguishing bar that we must achieve to be considered an Author? I’m not entirely sure but it feels different. Knowing that someone other than your ‘sister’ might be entertained for a while by those carefully chosen words. Don’t get me wrong; I still have those ‘I’m not worthy’ moments and new author insecurities, more often than not. I am floundering my way through all these new things that I’ve never done before, from my first round of editing to the marketing and self-promotion. I'm second-guessing myself at every turn, but I love every minute of it. And maybe I’ve even shown my children that you’re never too old to chase your dreams. 

Oh and by the way, Muse It Up Publishing will release that ever-elusive first historical romance in February 2013. My kids were right. It found a home. And funnily enough the title is You Found Me. And thankfully it didn’t take me a hundred rejections.

There are so many people to thank. My sister and my kiddies, of course - they know how I love them. I have come into contact with so many incredibly talented and giving people, some that I will probably never have the good fortune to meet in person, but they have changed my life and helped me realise my dream. From the moment I hit that send button that took my manuscript to TEB things changed for me in a positive way. I was lucky enough to be paired with a fantastic editor, supportive and patient. She guided me, shared advice and made the whole process warm and fun. She put me at ease and made it seem like we were not thousands of miles apart. She is the best.

I was blessed with a gifted artist who created my very first cover and I could sense from our very first communication, that she was a fun-loving spirit. She just made me happy. I was thrilled to see my first cover, and she seemed genuinely excited for me. Her energy is contagious.

I feel like I have two new families. My TEB family in the UK and my Muse It Up family in Canada. Thank you all. I’m almost done gushing! I warned ya I was wordy.

And last, speaking of incredibly talented and giving people, I would like to thank Lisabet for having me as a guest at Beyond Romance today and for the great advice and never-ending patience with all of my questions and e-mails. I appreciate how open and available you are to new authors. You lead by example. Thank you.
 

You'll also be happy to know that I am a virgin at guest blogging. Yes, Lisabet, you are my first. ;) This starts a week full of firsts for me. I am honoured to share them with you.

Look for my debut Erotic Romance Swap Monday, October 1, 2012. But you can pre-order Swap and save 15% until September 3^rd, 2012, when it becomes available to buy and download at Total E-Bound also at a discount.

Blurb

Hailey Hollinger has it all—a great husband, a fantastic career in journalism, good friends…and one hot brother-in-law who won’t stay out of her fantasies.

When Hailey Hollinger was eighteen she thought her boyfriend, Brent, was the best-looking guy around. That was until he introduced her to his older brother, Mike. From that moment on she had the biggest crush on him and he became the star of all her teenage fantasies. Hailey’s all grown up now and has been married to Brent for three years. They have great careers, a nice house—they enjoy life and each other. Everything is supposed to be perfect. Except for that pesky little infatuation with her husband’s brother has never completely gone away. A crush, by nature and definition, is supposed to be short-lived and should diminish over time. But, unfortunately for Hailey, it hasn’t, and it is beginning to mess with what she thinks should be perfection. And if her life is so great, why does she then find herself groping her brother-in-law in the cab of his truck like some sex-starved teenager? And the biggest question yet—why is he groping her right back?

Excerpt

He turned to face me and, to my surprise, he reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. “You’re really lame, ya know?” He laughed at my expense.

“And the eighties lines are alive and well. I know I’m lame, but you love me anyway,” I tossed his words from earlier back at him.

His smile slipped. “Yeah. I do.”

Something in his voice made every body part I owned turn liquid. In my head, I rushed to tell myself that he meant ‘like a brother’ and that he’d had a few beers, but his next words stopped my thought process cold.

“You might be the only thing I’ve ever envied about my little brother.”

He moved his hand to the side of my neck and grazed my cheek with his thumb. Then his lips were there, hovering in front of mine as if he were seeking permission. My senses swam with the possibilities. I pounced, seizing what might be my only opportunity to kiss him. I didn’t hold back—he experienced the full-on, ravenous impact of years of worship and sexual fantasies that had run the gamut from sweet, innocent, eighteen-year-old’s kisses to the tantalising nocturnal fantasy that I‘d created just the night before.

I flattened my chest against his, trying to get inside his coat. He spun me around and nudged me onto the seat of the truck. I didn’t want to separate from his lips, afraid that if we lost contact, he would call a halt to this. So I fisted my hands into his shirt and hauled him in after me, opening my legs and welcoming him towards my heat. I crabbed toward the driver’s side, hitting the steering wheel, then released his shirt long enough to grope for the tilt-steering lever and pushed the wheel up to give us a little extra room. He was not a small man. The thought shot another little thrill through my already highly sensitised body.

He reached backward with one arm, trying to close the door, but I pulled him towards me with all my strength. I wanted to get as much as I could before he put a stop to this. I knew he would. He was too nice a guy to let this happen. What did that say about me?

“Let me get the door,” he said against my mouth, his breathing choppy and heavy.

I released him for long enough that he could reach behind him. The door clicked and I didn’t even have to coax him back—he was there and kissing me as I strained to get closer to him. I could feel his erection digging into my wet heat through my jeans. I rubbed my aching cunt shamelessly over his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t stop the sounds of need that kept erupting from the back of my throat. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything, and at this very moment I didn’t care about anything else. Not Brent. Not Cheryl. Not even the fact that I was probably making a fool of myself. There was one thing on my mind, and that was getting him into my body.

I pulled at the bottom of his T-shirt, moving it up his chest as he pushed at mine, his large, warm palm passing over my ribs. Skin met skin, but it wasn’t enough for me. I let him push my T all the way up, exposing my bra. He smoothed his hand over me, cupping my breast. I pushed myself into his hand. My nipple pearled in his palm. He gave me a soft squeeze as he hunted around back for the hooks, but the bra had a front clasp. I made a protest into his mouth as I directed his hand back around to the front. He undid my bra, setting my breasts free, and he moved his mouth from my lips, down my neck, finally fastening around my nipple.

I moaned at the sensation, arching my back, giving him full access. He growled in return and I wanted to laugh out loud. This was incredible. He swirled his tongue, making me tighten even more—not only my nipple, but deep down inside me. The sensation of his lips and tongue around my breast coupled with his erection pulsing between my legs. I could almost imagine he was inside me. If not for the goddamn clothes between us, he would be. I wanted it. I wanted it now.

Author Bio and Links

H K Carlton lives in Canada with her hard-working hubby and three fantastic children. She loves to read. She is learning to Blog and Tweet but would much rather be writing. She is currently working on a contemporary romance and a family saga series.

Swap (Erotic Contemporary Romance) October 1, 2012

Pre-order Swap and save

Watch for Lost Time (Time-Travel Erotic Romance) February 25, 2013 Total E-Bound

You Found Me (Historical Romance) Muse It Up (February 2013)

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Contest Giveaway

Leave a comment on this post for a chance to win a $10 Total E-Bound gift certificate. Good luck, everyone! Don’t forget to leave an e-mail address with your comment. I'll announce the winner on August 31, 2012.