Write on Time ~ R.Y. Swint
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Too Much Sauce?

10/21/2013

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Been thinking about it all day, and I can't quite decide if I'm flattered or mortified that someone compared the
spicy bits of my book to 50 Shades of Grey.  Honestly, though, a person can't help but be flattered to be compared to any bestselling work, but considering my own opinion of said work, I can't help but be pretty embarrassed, too. 
I mean, sure. I know I have a freaky side, but is the work really that raunchy?  Oh my goodness.
Hmmm.  I was actually going for a little more substance and a little less sauce, but the truth is that it all makes the soup. So, either way...Soup's on!
I'm just thankful as all get out to be read.  That's the point.  Readers are always the point.
But more than just read, I want to be respected. I want to be credible, memorable, substantial.  I don't want to just be fluff and filler.  Empty or guilty calories.  Mindless entertainment only.  Meh.  Although...mindless entertainment is not necessarily a bad thing.
But who says I can't have little bit of both, saucy and substantial?  I would like to have  achieved that balance for The Other Side of 30, but maybe the best stuff is leftover for The Other Side of 40.  Who really knows?  I sure don't.
As for the one minute or less elevator pitch, there may or may not be progress.  I keep re-pitching and re-thinking and re-pitching and re-thinking all of this stuff in my head, and I think I'm getting it just about down to roux level, but it's hard to tell without pitching it out loud to someone.  I guess I'll have to mix up a few words and pitch them at work tomorrow, just to get an idea of whether or not I'm headed in the right direction.
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Elevator Pitching: Back to the Drawing Board

10/20/2013

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Every time someone asks me what my book, The Other Side of 30, is about, I find myself scrambling to fine tune my elevator pitch.  I was at my cousin's wedding reception this weekend, and when the subject came up, and I was asked for the "one minute of less" summary, I completely botched it.  So today, I worked on it a little more, and here's the latest one that rolled off my fingertips:

A young woman turns 30 and basically loses her mind, trying to hold on to her "last chance" at love before going "over the hill." The problem is that she sets her sights on an old boyfriend who is newly married, and his wife
is a friend of hers.  From one decision to the next, her biological clock and better judgment are constantly embattled.
Regardless of knowing better, she finds herself willing to do, on the other side of 30, whatever she thinks it takes to get what she thinks she wants:  A ring, a husband, a family, and such things that are suddenly so appealing about the "normal life" that she once rejected, but now she believes is passing her by.


I think I can rattle off that bit in a minute or less.  I think.

As for substance, I also tried to toss in a few messages about how easily some people, even those who seem the strong, smart types, can become completely unfocused and lose sight of their own self worth to social pressures, real and perceived. I mean, let's face it.  Perception is reality.  Mix that in with a little bit of the "grass is not always greener" angle, and the "people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones" philosophy, and that just about does it.  I just hope the delivery isn't too heavy-handed, but we'll see.

And of course, there are a few sex scenes sprinkled in for good measure, to help move the story along.
What I need is a good tag line.  "Trying to make a future out of her past will make a mess of her present," is fitting, but it doesn't pop!  And it doesn't speak to the whole biological clock/social pressures thing.  And I repeat the word, "make," so it still needs work.  Hmmm.

 


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Gratitude is Always a Good Look

9/26/2013

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Thanks, so much, to everyone for supporting my 2nd release of The Other Side of 30 (TOST2). I'm pitching it as "a little saucy, seedy story of a good girl with bad intentions."  We'll see how that grabs folks.
I got some good feedback on my most recent elevator pitch, too.  I'm going to post it here.  If any of you want to offer feedback, I welcome it, as always.  Here goes:

The Other Side of 30 is a story about a woman who, after what was supposed to be this one last fling with an old boyfriend, a few weeks before his wedding to someone else, decides that she wants a second chance at what might have been.  Sebrina Cooper finds herself in unfamiliar territory on the other side of right, the other side of betrayal, the other side of friendship, and she also happens to be on the other side of the age of thirty.  

With all of these moral and ethical dilemmas embattling her biological clock, she's driven and manipulated most by whichever one is speaking the loudest at any given moment.  Sometimes, it doesn't matter that his new wife is a friend of hers, which was a complete accident.  It doesn't matter that glass house that she's unwittingly constructed for herself is only one misstep away from shattering into a mess of jagged little pieces.  Other times, it does.

No matter what happens with this title, if it takes off or not, people need to know that I'm thankful for their support and encouragement.  Without that, I'd surely have given up on this dream of writing something that matters to somebody besides me.  I think that gratitude is always a good look.  It's important to acknowledge people.  Period.  So again, you all are super awesome. Thanks, for reading, commenting, and spreading the word!
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To Thine Own Self and Others

9/13/2013

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Whoohoo!  The Other Side of 30, 2nd Edition (TOST2) is on track to go on sale this Monday, 16 September 2013. To say I'm excited about that would be nothing but the truth.

I find that with the release of a second effort of the same story, I see myself striving ever more for a close to perfect product.  Oh well. That's not going to happen, but it's nice to shoot for that goal. 

I just want to give people what I've asked them to expect of me:  Good, solid, entertaining writing.  If I call myself true to the craft, and true to myself , then the truth to others will follow. At least, that's the motto by which I tend to live. 

It's not an easy path, but I trudge along.  Some days, I skip. Some days, I run.  Some days, I ease on down the road, like Michael Jackson's Scarecrow in "The Wiz," though not nearly as gracefully.  Some days, eh.  I just stop and give myself time to regroup.

In any case, I always look forward to and feel energized by the support of my friends and family.  As with the first release, I'm dedicating this book to the memory of my Uncle Harvey, and as with the first release, 90% of the profits, if any, will go to selected charities, specifically, the Army Wounded Warrior (AW2) Program, and the Wounded Warrior Project; so, of course, I hope folks will continue to support the book, even if the subject matter may not necessarily be to their liking. 

I have to laugh at myself for my constant "apologies" for the content.  I can't count the number of times I've told a friend or coworker who is planning to support me, "It's not very wholesome," or "It's a little seedy. Brace yourself." And then, I follow up with, "But I still think it's a good story."

At the end of all of this, I just want to be read.  Being read by lots and lots of people would be really awesome, too, because that means that not only am I making some good money for charity, but I'm also increasing my chance of getting on somebody's bestseller's list.  Dare I dream?  New York Times?  Essence?  Yes. I dare dream.

I think some folks think I'm nuts for not caring about making money, but the truth is, I'm comfortable and blessed with everything I need, and most of what I want.  I'm in a good place.  It's the right thing to do to give back.  To the community, by donating money, to other writers, by launching my
publishing house, and to my family and friends, who believe in me, even when I doubt myself.  My sisters are convinced that I should be hearing about a movie deal, soon.  That would be pretty awesome, I must admit.  One can only hope. And dream.  And work.

Anyway, the positive energy that people give me is so powerful, because it's genuine.  I am tremendously humbled by that, and I want to continue in that energy.  I'll never stop trying to be a better writer, for the benefit of others and myself.  Who knows?  Maybe, one day, I will actually be I'm as good as I think I am.  Wouldn't that be sweet?

As always, good luck, to all writers and artists to put out the best products possible.  We have to remember that no matter how hard the work is to get to quality, junk peddling is not an option. Love the craft.  Truly.
BUY NOW
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Things I Think About When I'm Not Having Sex...Apparently, It's a Series

7/11/2012

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So...the hunk across the way apparently already has a love-lust interest. My chances of ravishing his body are a dwindling by the moment.  Well, if that don't beat all.
I suppose I knew this was possible. Not that my nameless neighbor would get his own potential boo-bunny-sex slave just when I was warming up to him.  But that I've created a post that leads to another post.  So be it. 

He really is completely lust-worthy.  To the point that if even says anything else to me, I'm just going to jump on him.  Nobody ovulates THAT much.
I think I must blame everything on ovulating.  How else do I explain my lingering thoughts and sudden tinges of envy?  Just when I was ready to flaunt my feminine wiles and let nature take its course.  Hmph.  That heffa.
All I know is that he just better not come around me talking and smiling, or I'm just gonna pass out and let him let me have my way with him.
Scene set up: 
Me:  Walking to the mailbox is bare, freshly pedicured feet, wearing a white camisole and black yoga pants.  (I'm still fine enough to pull it off.) 
Him:  Just happening to be coming home from work.  Flashes smile.  Says something. It doesn't matter what.
He holds the door.  I "clumsily" drop my mail, and perform one of those kneel down to pick it up in slow motion moves.  Smiling on the way down and on the way back up.
  He says something else.  I jump his bones right there at the mailbox.
Okay.  Well, yeah.  That needs work.
Picture
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Things I Think About When I'm Not Having Sex

7/9/2012

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Picture
Okay, so yeah.  I posted on my other blog about some of the dirty things I want to do my neighbor.  Don't worry.  It's relatively clean.
Sure, I think a lot about ravishing him, in a wholly two consenting adults kind of way, in one of those perfect conditions, perfect opportunity, risk-free fantasies that only come up in romance novels or pornos, but that got me to thinking.  What if the opportunity did happen to present itself?  I mean, it's not astronomically unlikely.  I'm single.  He's single.  And we are neighbors, after all.
Like at this moment, if he were to knock on my door and throw himself at me.  I wouldn't be ready.  It occurs to me that I wouldn't even let him cross the threshold.
My hair's not done.  My nails are complete crap.  I need a pedicure.  I could use a few waxing touch-ups, and I could stand to lose SEVERAL pounds in a several select places.
Sometimes, I wonder just how much attention a man actually pays to a woman's body during sex.  I know that men don't mind imperfection, any more than women do.  I mean, it's not like you're starring in love scene on the big screen, or making a home porno, but still. 
But how much do men really mind a little back fat, or muffin top, or a little extra meat on the thighs?  Do they really notice when our legs aren't freshly shaved?  Eh.  Probably not.
The point is, we notice it on ourselves, and for me, well...I get a little embarrassed thinking about what he might be thinking.  Yeah.  Silly, I guess. 
I just want to feel attractive.  I want to feel like I look like somebody whose bones he wants to jump all the time.  *Sigh*  I miss being in a relationship.  I mean, I ain't gon' miss no meals because of it, but I'm just thinking of how great it would be to look great when opportunity comes knocking...literally or figuratively speaking.
And for those women out there with steady beaus and husbands who have your periodic, but inexplicable losses of interest in sex, what is your deal?  Sex on demand, and you have no interest?
Okay, if it's a vanity thing, I totally get it.  That whole "I'm not feeling sexy right now," or "I need to tidy up" type of issue, I get it.  The self esteem thing is heavy, and probably drives down the sex drive for most of us. 
But for all else, such as that, "I'm tired," "I got a headache," "the kids are in the next room," (y'all KNOW you can have quiet sex), or "I'm mad at you right now" type of stuff, all the damn time...you bitches make me sick.
I mean really.  What is up with that? 
I totally get not wanting to be touched by, ogled at, or groped on by some guy in which you have absolutely no interest.  And damnit, ain't nothing worse than when some jerk is all up in my face and space, assuming that just because I don't have a man, or, in this case, have the hots for another guy, that it's okay for him to come sniffing around and propositioning me.  Wrong, buster.  Get the hell away from me.
But hell, if you're in a relationship with, or married to him, what...the hell...is up?  That's a completely rhetorical question, because I've already made up in my mind that if you say it's anything but vanity, you're on some lame-lazy excuse-making, denial-having, lying ass bullshit.  If you don't want him, then why the hell are you with him?  Y'all are the bitches who make me sick.
And don't get me started with those of you who've somehow settled up with the wrong poor bastard, for haste, or spite, or fear of failure. Or you call yourself being "bored" with him.  You heffas really get on my nerves.  Ain't nobody made you settle up with the wrong man.  Got him thinking that all women want to pull the "hold out" card once they get a man; but no.  It's just YOU.  And your specific disinterest in HIM.
And please don't get it into your head that just because you don't want him that somebody else is just waiting for you to cut him lose so she can jump on him.  If that's your line of thinking, oh grow up, already.  And consider and check your own shady inner circle before you make general assumptions. 
Despite what many ill-informed people would like to believe about single women, being single IS a conscious choice, not a chronic condition.  I've been celibate for this long because I'm selective, not thirsty.  It actually opens my mind for some pretty clear thoughts to jot down here and there.  Including some pretty vivid sex scenes.  But I digress. 
I'm just saying that if you don't want to have sex with you own man, tell his ass the truth about why.  Stop making excuses.  Save everybody a lot of trouble.
Okay.  I guess I'm done thinking, for now.

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No Husband Yet? No Problem!

1/8/2012

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Welp. Just finished a lengthy Sunday afternoon conversation with my mom, who advised me that she's willing to wait about 3 more years for me to have a baby. That's right around the time the mortgage will be paid off, and she can sell the house and travel with me and the kid.

Never mind I don't have a husband. "So, get a sperm donor," she says. "I don't mind you having a baby when you're old. I want a grand baby." Thanks, mom. Yeah. Thanks for that.

Did we somehow forget that I'm forty-fucking-three years old, and I don't even have a boyfriend?  What's that?  No problem?

"...The Army is full of men...Just stop being so picky.  You don't even have to marry him...You don't need child support...You can afford a baby." 

And the best one, "Just gotta think about how happy that would make me before I die...Pretty, pretty grand babies..."

Yes, she played the death card.

So, on the chance that there are others, and I know there are others out there who go through this with the people who love us (moms, dads, well-meaning friends, etc.), I just want you to know you're not alone.  I've had this topic thrown at me so many different ways, from so many different angles, I can just about tell you what to say back and how to say it.  Guaranteed to shut them up about it for at least a month...unless you chat every Sunday.
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Writing on Time

1/6/2012

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Six days into the new year means I'm late with my gratuitous post of reflections and ponderings of the last year.  Worse, I've tried to write this post 3 times over the last hour, and my connection keeps dropping.  Worst, I'm too stubborn to rewrite it in a Word document so that I won't lose it again, just in case I run out of time before the NEXT inevitable dropped connection.  This is some bullshit. 
But, then, that's what I get for being late as hell and being stubborn.  And have the nerve to be impatient.  This is what happens to a writer with tons of ideas that she can't write down fast enough, and can't remember once those ideas have gotten tired of waiting to be put to good use and escaped her chaotic head space.
I've written some great stuff on here in the last three attempts, and lost it because of some fricken fracken computer glitchy nonsense, which, by the way, I pay way too much money to be going through.  Now it's gone forever.  Much like time itself.  The gift that doesn't keep on giving.
It is a gift of opportunity and chances (like the chance I'm taking that this shit won't drop me again); of decisions and circumstances, often of my own making; of situations, often of my own choosing.  It doesn't come wrapped in a nice shiny bow.  And despite my best efforts, I cannot save it in a pretty little box or bottle for later. 
As time passes, I'm passing right along with it.  I get it.  I got it years ago, but something about this time of year brings it back to the forefront of my mind.  And I know I'm not the only one.  I just posted my thoughts six days later.  Time.  Only less of it.
Time is borrowed, much like credit.  Eventually it runs out.
I changed the name of this blog to "Write on Time" because all cliches about time are true.  It slips into the future, waits for no man, heals all wounds...or so they tell me.  Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
That, and I think it's a pretty cool play on words. 
Anyway, I plan to spend this year getting my publishing company, New Renaissance Ink, off the ground, and publishing at least two works this fall, one of which will be the Second Edition of The Other Side of 30; but gracious alive, it's a lot of work.  I'm working with a few authors already, talking mostly, at this point; but I hope that one of their books will be among the two that I publish this year.  I've also got two nonfiction pieces bouncing around in my head, and maybe even a YA novel, which is totally new territory for me.  I believe I've got the ducks lined up (couldn't think of a time cliche for that one), and I'm trying to move deliberately, if a bit tentatively, just to increase my chances of producing the best possible work for my readers and for myself.
All that said, I'm still learning to build platforms, audiences, brand recognition and all of that stuff that only writers care about.  From this point forward, I hope to deliver words on this screen that readers care about.  I'm building it, readers.  Please come.
One of my brain children is to create an experimental blog segment and discussion forum, through comments and/or messages, as a Subject Matter Expert on the Art of Being Single.  After all, The Other Side of 30 is basically about the life of a single girl, Sebrina Cooper, that goes awry, to put it mildly. 
Let's see.  That makes the acronym SMEABS.  Hmmmh.  That needs work. 
But if I don't know shit else, I know how to be single.  And write.  And  having done both for so long, I've gotten better than pretty good at them.
Maybe I'm supposed to remind as many others as possible, that being single is a conscious choice, not a chronic condition.  And that's it's not the end of the world.  On the other side of 30, 40, or beyond.  Well, I don't know anything much about beyond yet, but you get the point.  Maybe this is how I build my platform and readership, but also help some people along the way.  Sebrina Cooper should have had the benefit of a SMEABS.
I've pretty much mastered being single, and all without the benefit of heavy medication or restraining orders.  I've kept my hair and most of my sanity.  That takes finesse.  Skill.  Okay, less skill and more life experience.  And a lot of perspective.  A dash of good genes, sure.  Of course, a good portion of grace and gummi bears. 
I mean, there has to be a really good reason for my being over 40, never been married, no kids, well-educated, pretty, and having dropped into and avoided more than my fair share of emotional pitfalls.  But on the other side of all that, I have built a pretty comfortable life, maintained a steady career, and I'm living the drama-free life to which we all (at least say that we) aspire.
Just maybe being a SMEABS (Trying to get the name to grow on me) is part of my purpose, sharing lessons and experiences.
Anyway, if you or someone you know may benefit from some perspective and life experience, please tune in here often.  We'll see how this thing pans out.
Whatever I do with the time I have left in this year and the rest of my life, I want to contribute something to making someone else's situations or circumstances better, their decisions are little more informed, and maybe their chances a little less risky.  *Sigh*
Opportunity, here I come knocking. 
There is more to come.  I will be more active on this blog.  That's not a resolution.  It's a lifestyle change. ;)
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