Funny Friday: Ah, Creative Writing, How I Love Thee...

Or, apparently, I must love a newspaper contest for funny lines, but...who the heck cares? These "creative" descriptions are hilarious. And if, as one commenter suggested on the tickled post where I first saw these, you read them in the voice of Leslie Nielsen, you might just fall out of your chair... ;) So head on over to 20 Actual Quotes From English Exams and see what you think. My fave?

"Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Ballina at 6:36 travelling at 55 mph, the other from Claremorris 4:19 pm at a speed of 35 mph."

Hmm...or perhaps:

"Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut."

:D

~ Ella

*Photo courtesy of MinioN2.

Funny Friday: The Craziest Places To...Um...Have Sex

We romance writers, especially those of us with an erotic bent, can have some pretty weird conversations among ourselves, conversations like...oh..."where's the craziest place you've ever had sex?" And yes, we give some pretty out-there answers sometimes. ;) Here's how a few erotica authors answered the same question from Buzzfeed's Arianna Rebolini. Enjoy! ~ Ella

The 14 Craziest Places Where Erotica Writers Have Boned

*Photo courtesy of Jon 'ShakataGaNai' Davis.

Must-Read Advice for Writers

21 Things I Wish I'd Known Before I Started Writing: Must-Read Advice for Writers at All Levels By Robin Black

This article appeared on The Review Review website -- and my Facebook feed -- last week. After a particularly long and work-heavy month, I was taking a morning of downtime and actually managed to read an article I'm interested in. Yay! I found Black tips encouraging at a time when I'm struggling to handle my workload, deal with medical issues, and still manage to be enthusiastic about revisions on my current novella. It's not easy. But the validation of seeing some of the things I'm trying to tell myself reiterated from an experienced author helped me see that I am on the right path. I'm not delusional. This really is how I should see the world. And yes, "it will get better" is just as much a fact as "the downtimes will come again." Everything has its season; isn't that what Solomon said? :) Here are a couple of the tips I found particularly helpful:

" The best you can do is the best you can do. There’s a fine line between learning from other authors, and trying to be them. Be yourself. There are more than enough different types of readers out there for us all. I can’t tell you how much time I have wasted wishing my work were more 'hip'  and 'edgier.' And every single moment was indeed a waste of time. I didn’t even like much of the writing I wanted to emulate. I just liked the attention heaped on the people who wrote it. Write the book you’d most like to read – not the one you think will win over the editor du jour."

How often I have done this! I have lamented not being as good as so-and-so. I've lamented not being able to get my work in front of some big-time agent or editor. I've worried and wondered and agonized over the quality of my work -- and not believed my wonderful editor and critique partners and readers when they say they love it. It's got to stop! Can I doubt? Yes. Can I do it for more than a few seconds? No. As my daughter is fond of saying, "Ain't nobody got time for that."

"You cannot write the pages you love without writing the pages you hate. Nothing that you write is pointless, useless, or unnecessary. The product requires the process. The good days may be more enjoyable, but the tough ones are the ones they’re built upon."

Amen! Telling myself this was the only thing that got me through a period of severe writer's block (and yes, it does exist -- denying it doesn't make it so) over the last six months. I spent so much time agonizing over every word that I trained myself to have panic attacks when I sat at the computer to write. It has taken a lot of time, effort, and patience with myself to come out the other side, and still my confidence is more shattered than intact. That's okay. I'll get there. But it means going through the bad days as well as the good days -- and not being afraid to do so.

The final piece of advice speaks for itself, in my opinion. And, honestly, doesn't just apply to writing. Think about it.

"Don’t believe there are rules. There is only advice. There is only opinion. There are only my experiences and yours and yours and yours. . ."

Check out the full article and all of Black's tips here.

~ Ella

*Photo courtesy of AnimaTigris.

No Sick Days

There are no sick days in writing. Okay, for some people there are, but unfortunately I’m not one of them. Between the kids and the editing gig and just plain normal maintenance -- hey, this body didn’t get this way by itself. Actually, it did, but I’m trying to work on that! ;) -- I have to write when I have time, not when I feel like it. And that means writing when I’m sick. Depressed. Just don’t want to.

Suck it up, buttercup. You still have to write.

This week I’m on a deadline. My wonderful editor has sent me revisions that will make Just a Little More a “more better” story. And that means I need to actually follow through on them (imagine that!). I spent this past week struggling through therapy for a bulging disc in my neck, and this weekend both my son and I got hit with a nasty virus (him more than me). All I wanted was to curl up in the bed, cover my head, and sleep the bad feelings away…but I can’t. I have to write. The week ahead is already full of work, and the revisions have to be squeezed in around that. The whip must be cracked and the laptop must be opened. There’s no time to waste on a sick day.

My birthday is coming up in about six weeks. Think I could wish for a sick day when I blow out the candles? ;)

How ’bout you, do you get sick days? Wish you did? Save them for when you aren’t really sick? (Wish I had that option!)

~ Ella

Photo courtesy of mcfarlandmo.

Funny Friday: A Peek Inside the Writer's Brain

I'm heading out for a writing retreat this weekend with my Music City Romance Writers buddies, and I am SO looking forward to it. A weekend to refill my creative well, enjoy the company of people who actually understand what I'm talking about (I know because their eyes don't glaze over!), and write, write, write! In honor of my excitement (!), here are some writing-related memes for your Funny Friday enjoyment. Yes, this is the way we think, lol! So the next time you meet your favorite author, just know that this is really how their brain works. :) Have a great weekend!

~ Ella

And if you ever wanted to know what it's like to not be able to write? This.

Weekly Web Search: For All You Writers Out There

I occasionally find links to posts by Chuck Wendig peppering Facebook. His blog, terribleminds, is often totally inappropriate, which might be why I like the articles of his I've read: no holds barred, totally irreverent, but usually so totally true as well. This past week someone linked to an older post of Chuck's about what we as writers should not do (as opposed to all the multitude of things we're told we should, every day, day in and day out--it's exhausting). So, writers, read this post and take a good, long look at your writing life. Are there things you need to change? Here's one of my faves: "Fear is nonsense. What do you think is going to happen? You’re going to be eaten by tigers? Life will afford you lots of reasons to be afraid: bees, kidnappers, terrorism, being chewed apart by an escalator, Republicans, Snooki. But being a writer is nothing worthy of fear. It’s worthy of praise. And triumph. And fireworks. And shotguns. And a box of wine. So shove fear aside — let fear be gnawed upon by escalators and tigers. Step up to the plate. Let this be your year."

Read more at "25 Things Writers Should Stop Doing."

My First "Call": Dirty Little Secret

I never expected to sell this story. Really. In fact, at one of my local RWA meetings I offered the query for a cold read and was told by fellow members, "That would never sell." Why? Because my modern-day hero is in a marriage of convenience. Yes, dear reader, he is, so no, I never expected to sell Dirty Little Secret.

But I did. And not only did I sell it, but it's the first of my stories to sell.

You can all relax -- my hero isn't committing adultery on his heartbroken wife. They are friends, never anything more, who married to protect her company from being stolen away by her dad. My hero is a hero in the truest sense of the word, giving up everything to save his best friend's dream. So what happens when that hero finds something -- someone -- who is his dream? Well, that's the premise of the story. c;

Thankfully, Rory Olsen at Loose Id saw beyond what many others stopped at -- the word "married" -- and took on my story! I was in Florida when I received the news, an early morning e-mail just waiting for me when I opened my bleary eyes on the last day of my vacation. "Congratulations from Loose Id! Acceptance of Dirty Little Secret!" read the subject line. Woot! I never thought I'd see that word, "acceptance," in association with this little story, but there it was. :D

I rushed right over to my daughter and showed her the e-mail on my phone. She squealed. Then I rushed outside, the only place where I could get reliable phone service, and called my husband. He was excited. I called my sister at her work and listened to her squeal. Then I took a quick shower and drove to my mom's workplace, walked inside, and told her in person. She squealed and was excited! It was a squealing, excited kind of day in the Deep South -- and I'm so thankful to Rory for seeing the possibilities and giving me that special, special day.

We authors only ever get one very first "call" (even if that takes the form of an e-mail nowadays). It's a special time in a writer's life, and though I never expected to sell this story, never expected to get that "call" for Dirty Little Secret, I'm so very grateful I did. Thanks, Rory and Loose Id! I can't wait to work with you and make DLS an amazing book for every reader. :)

Guest Blog Alert!

I'm over at the Ruby Slippered Sisters today with my twin, Dani Wade, talking about our writing journeys, how we're alike, and how we're different. Check it out! RSS Welcomes GH Finalist Ella Sheridan...And Her Sister

Talk About Me?

Ugh! I've been managing to blog one way or another for over a year to encourage other writers, but the minute I set up a two-week schedule for my own site, my mind went completely blank! I both love and hate talking about me. I mean, who doesn't love talking about themselves -- we all have something we want to add to the conversation, right? But this is harder because I'm trying to pick out the bits that really tell you something, that give you some inkling about who I am aside from the person who can encourage and direct writers in their writing journey. So, who am I?

Honestly, sometimes I have no idea. :) The older I get, the more I feel like a never-ending spiral of stairs I'll never get to the end of, especially on those "what the he** am I doing?" kind of days. Recently a friend of mine was describing the man in her life, saying he wasn't "self-aware." I'm probably at the other end -- too self-aware. I'm all up in my head, which might be why my body looks like a couch potato rather than a marathon runner, lol.

Hmm, I've never considered that. Maybe I should...

But back to what I was saying. Maybe that's why I write on the darker side, gritty and angsty. Because I'm all about the internal journey. Even with my background in martial arts, which guarantees I love a good fight, it's the internal journey, the fight within ourselves, that most fascinates me. And there's nothing I enjoy more than throwing something at my characters that they're definitely going to struggle with -- I'm sadistic that way. ;)

So what about you? If you had to answer the question "Who am I?" what would you say?

Arik

I spent many years dreaming of writing around diapers, every-evening dinners, and the amount of laundry only two kids two years apart can create. My sister, Dani Wade, was writing romance novels targeted at Harlequin, and I remembered how that felt, the evolving of a new world, the playing out of a scene across the screen of my mind that somehow, through the miracle of the pen, translated itself to the page. But I didn't try it.

See, I was afraid. Afraid of what people would think, especially my sister. Afraid I couldn't do it. And most of all, afraid I truly had nothing of value to share. And then came Arik.

I don't even remember exactly how he came into being. I only remember asking myself, if I could write my fantasy hero, what would he be like? Well, Arik is it. He is dark, sexy, a loner, a male in need of healing and yet the embodiment of strength. He's everything I ever wanted in a book hero. But then I had to write him.

And that's where everything changed. Because I didn't write Arik immediately--I spent three years honing my skill as a writer before I ever let myself touch his story (and yes, for me most stories are about the hero; the heroine is just a replacement for me, lol!). The world of the Archai and the supernatural characters that populated it deserved my best, and I refused to begin the story until I knew for certain I was ready to give that best. So, in a way, Arik is responsible for the writer I've become, not just someone who dabbles, but a committed, skilled author who can finally bring that scene stuck in my head onto the page in a way that makes readers forget they're reading a book and not actually walking along beside the characters themselves.

Wanna know more about Arik? How about a little treat? Here's Arik's introduction in the first chapter of Unbroken. Go on and read it; you know you want to! Indulge yourself with the hero who changed my world. ;)

*

The roads were rank with the scent of recent rain, exhaust, and unwashed human. Stalking through the midnight-black streets, skirting the circles of light cast by an occasional irritating streetlight, Arik held back an ugly grin at the expressions on the few bums and far-gone club hoppers he happened to pass. No long hair flowing like a curtain behind him, no leather duster flapping in the slight wind--who the hell needed the theatrics, anyway?--but it didn't stop the fear that sparked in the eyes that witnessed his passage through the night. And they should be afraid. He wasn't the only one on the hunt tonight.

His senses flared, humming like a refrigerator on full cold as he followed the shifters' trail through the maze of sidewalks scattered with flashing neon lights and the occasional roar of sound when a bar door opened abruptly. Downtown Nashville was full of nightlife, but the middle-of-the-night cold kept most of the revelry inside rather than spilling onto the streets as it did in the summer. Hunting was harder then, but tonight, with a full group of shifters moving through the heavily traveled area, most of the oblivious population wisely kept their sport indoors and out of his way.

A yellow cab, the "available" light a beacon for customers, passed on the narrow street. A blast of exhaust clouded the air, fucking up his nose, and Arik hissed. The sound startled a drunk on the darkened steps jutting out from a nearby alley, and the man jerked, his bottle of cheap liquor rattling as it hit the concrete. He slid wild eyes in Arik's direction before hastily shuffling farther into the yawning cavern between two buildings. Arik ignored the interruption and continued on.

They were close, he knew, the ones he sought. Not Archai like him. These were the dark ones, the Anigma that had risen in the Great War, after life for the Archai--and Arik--had changed forever. Shifters that had given up their honor for... Well, whatever the hell they'd given it up for, they hadn't won. No shifter had. But still Arik hunted the Anigma. They were his enemy, and he'd be on them in moments.

Turning left at the next corner, Arik allowed his animal to the fore, using his griffin sight to scan the next several blocks. Even in the darkness of this less frequented section of downtown, he instantly homed in on the group of males dispersing at the entry of a local blues bar. The lit sign lazily proclaiming the place to be Lenny's shone on the half dozen black-clad figures entering the building, the rest of the Anigma team fading into the surrounding shadows. Arik had no doubt the males stayed close. When he followed their team members inside, the rest would know.

"Let 'em," he said, low and mean, the animal strong in his voice. Power surged in his muscles, the adrenaline of the hunt, and he found himself standing outside the bar in seconds. Too fast for human eyes to see, but not the Anigma. The whisper of their shifting weights as they noticed him was easily discernible to his sensitive ears. He ignored them and stepped inside.

*

Over on The Mutual Admiration Society, we have what we call Friday Feature Foto--the first Friday of every month, we feature a character from one of our books, including a photo. Hop over there and check out my personal message for Arik this month!