You will never get it right...
I bought a nasal aspirator.
Before taking my son for his 10 week immunisations, I checked to see whether I had the correct folder with all his details my wife had so efficiently filed away. Nodding my head and smiling that I had in fact found what I needed, a pamphlet fell out which the paediatrician had handed me on our first visit, advertising an aspirator.
Seeing as our baby boy does have congestion issues from time to time, I picked up the ad and read the text, wondering whether this item really worked. The image again raised concern in my mind because even though the simple design of mouthpiece, clear tube and cylinder on the end seemed practical enough, it still looked like something you'd buy in a sex shop.
That aside, I YouTubed the thing and was amazed to see how effective it was. The reviews were good. So, after his shots (God, I hate needles) I went out and got one. He is now so at ease that five-hour sleeping sessions have become the norm. Well, not all the time. He still has his one-hour intervals of moaning just to keep me on my toes. During one such episode, I tried everything, only to finally see his face redden as if it would explode, followed by a smell from hell. I cleaned him and he instantly began a conversation. Mutterings most wouldn't comprehend, but I understood perfectly well: "Thanks, Dad, for wiping my arse at 3 in the morning."
I take my hat off to my wife for handling the graveyard shift so well the past couple of months.
So with his sleeping pattern levelling out and intervals becoming longer, I have more time to write without interruptions, and after having a writing mentor advise that I needed to add more sexual tension to my book, I decided to give it a try.
Until then, the term sexual tension was something I despised. In my mind it meant adding nakedness and graphic sex scenes just for the sake of it, which my wife explained to the contrary in her not my mother tongue English. This is not a jab at her, but a compliment seeing as she is fluent in four languages. The accent is sexy, though.
Getting back to this post's title, I need to clarify that it is not a consumerism marketing strategy stating that if you don't drive a certain car or drink a specific drink or wear this brand of clothing you are deemed as inferior. A failure. It rather reflects on me as a writer, and I am certain it will also hit home with others in the profession.
You will never get it right...or will you?
Sexual tension, as I understand it, is adding a spark that ignites a flame.
She peered out the corner of her eye and caught him staring...as example, should raise a number of questions: How did it make her feel - and short of having instant wet panties, did it do something inside?
I always had this in my books, but clearly not enough. Or rather, not explained enough.
Apparently She smiled in response doesn't quite cut it for the reader.
Even though I edit while I write and can't continue with today's words until I feel that the previous was okay and made sense, I always go back and edit, edit, edit. It's a curse, and I tend to suffer from CDO, which is OCD put alpahbetically.
I am querying again after a time of absense, and decided to dive back into one specific story and add more of this tension. I do not add shit for the sake of adding shit as I hate that in books I read, but halway into the my story I have added an extra 5K words already, and this not only with extra spark but clarifying description as well. I mean, if she's in London, surely she would see Big Ben and The London Eye (or whatever it is called at the moment seeing as the name changes so often).
How does she react? Does he notice her reaction? How does her reaction make him feel?
A ripple effect of sexual tension.
The point I am trying to make is that, in our own eyes, we will never get it right. Five years and six completed novels later, I know for a fact that if I start reading through any of my books again, I will add and subtract. Make changes.
I have read up and watched videos about agents and their lives, and what their typical day looks like. With this in mind, I realise that receiving a rejection (or no response at all) is not directly linked to my work submitted, and therefore doesn't mean I write crap.
Getting a book deal, as stated by some, is 20% talent and 80% luck, the luck part meaning that your submission lands on the right desk at the right time, and that the recipient thereof has not had a day filled with too many personal issues or work stress.
I continually find reasons why I haven't recieved a response yet: I didn't get my cover letter right... I shared too much about myself... I didn't share enough about myself... I didn't come across seriously enough... I sounded too serious and should have added a quirk or a joke...
It. Is. Endless.
But just because a rejection is received or a book isn't selling online doesn't mean it is crap, it just means to never stop trying. The way I am feeling at the moment, I'm going to have a hundred unpublished books by the time I die. At least I'm knocking on agency doors and not allowing the feeling of You will never get it right to stand in my way.
When in doubt, WRITE!
Before taking my son for his 10 week immunisations, I checked to see whether I had the correct folder with all his details my wife had so efficiently filed away. Nodding my head and smiling that I had in fact found what I needed, a pamphlet fell out which the paediatrician had handed me on our first visit, advertising an aspirator.
Seeing as our baby boy does have congestion issues from time to time, I picked up the ad and read the text, wondering whether this item really worked. The image again raised concern in my mind because even though the simple design of mouthpiece, clear tube and cylinder on the end seemed practical enough, it still looked like something you'd buy in a sex shop.
That aside, I YouTubed the thing and was amazed to see how effective it was. The reviews were good. So, after his shots (God, I hate needles) I went out and got one. He is now so at ease that five-hour sleeping sessions have become the norm. Well, not all the time. He still has his one-hour intervals of moaning just to keep me on my toes. During one such episode, I tried everything, only to finally see his face redden as if it would explode, followed by a smell from hell. I cleaned him and he instantly began a conversation. Mutterings most wouldn't comprehend, but I understood perfectly well: "Thanks, Dad, for wiping my arse at 3 in the morning."
I take my hat off to my wife for handling the graveyard shift so well the past couple of months.
So with his sleeping pattern levelling out and intervals becoming longer, I have more time to write without interruptions, and after having a writing mentor advise that I needed to add more sexual tension to my book, I decided to give it a try.
Until then, the term sexual tension was something I despised. In my mind it meant adding nakedness and graphic sex scenes just for the sake of it, which my wife explained to the contrary in her not my mother tongue English. This is not a jab at her, but a compliment seeing as she is fluent in four languages. The accent is sexy, though.
Getting back to this post's title, I need to clarify that it is not a consumerism marketing strategy stating that if you don't drive a certain car or drink a specific drink or wear this brand of clothing you are deemed as inferior. A failure. It rather reflects on me as a writer, and I am certain it will also hit home with others in the profession.
You will never get it right...or will you?
Sexual tension, as I understand it, is adding a spark that ignites a flame.
She peered out the corner of her eye and caught him staring...as example, should raise a number of questions: How did it make her feel - and short of having instant wet panties, did it do something inside?
I always had this in my books, but clearly not enough. Or rather, not explained enough.
Apparently She smiled in response doesn't quite cut it for the reader.
Even though I edit while I write and can't continue with today's words until I feel that the previous was okay and made sense, I always go back and edit, edit, edit. It's a curse, and I tend to suffer from CDO, which is OCD put alpahbetically.
I am querying again after a time of absense, and decided to dive back into one specific story and add more of this tension. I do not add shit for the sake of adding shit as I hate that in books I read, but halway into the my story I have added an extra 5K words already, and this not only with extra spark but clarifying description as well. I mean, if she's in London, surely she would see Big Ben and The London Eye (or whatever it is called at the moment seeing as the name changes so often).
How does she react? Does he notice her reaction? How does her reaction make him feel?
A ripple effect of sexual tension.
The point I am trying to make is that, in our own eyes, we will never get it right. Five years and six completed novels later, I know for a fact that if I start reading through any of my books again, I will add and subtract. Make changes.
I have read up and watched videos about agents and their lives, and what their typical day looks like. With this in mind, I realise that receiving a rejection (or no response at all) is not directly linked to my work submitted, and therefore doesn't mean I write crap.
Getting a book deal, as stated by some, is 20% talent and 80% luck, the luck part meaning that your submission lands on the right desk at the right time, and that the recipient thereof has not had a day filled with too many personal issues or work stress.
I continually find reasons why I haven't recieved a response yet: I didn't get my cover letter right... I shared too much about myself... I didn't share enough about myself... I didn't come across seriously enough... I sounded too serious and should have added a quirk or a joke...
It. Is. Endless.
But just because a rejection is received or a book isn't selling online doesn't mean it is crap, it just means to never stop trying. The way I am feeling at the moment, I'm going to have a hundred unpublished books by the time I die. At least I'm knocking on agency doors and not allowing the feeling of You will never get it right to stand in my way.
When in doubt, WRITE!
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