Too Many Feels This Week

me and amy (2)First of all, let me apologize about the title.  I HATE that expression.  It doesn’t make sense at all and is grammatically incorrect.  But it seemed appropriate for this post.  See, I had decided to write a short, snarky blog post about the engagement of Benedict Cumberbatch and my reaction not to that event, but to the fangirl implosion.  And then yesterday, something happened that made me think that it would be stupid and insensitive to write about such a trivial thing.  Then I realized that my feelings about both issues were pretty similar and rooted in the same underlying ugliness.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock all week, you’ve probably heard that sapiosexual heartthrob and favorite Lexxx muse Benedict Cumberbatch, announced his upcoming nuptials to his girlfriend Sophie Hunter.  There was speculation that the internet might actually shut down, but it didn’t.  In fact, most fangirls have expressed nothing but happy thoughts and congratulations.  As for myself, I couldn’t be happier.  I’m extremely happy in my marriage and believe that I’ve found my soulmate.  It’s the most wonderful thing in the world and I’m so overjoyed that a person I respect and admire so much has found that for himself.  But I did see one comment that really took me aback.  Someone expressed that while they were happy for Ben and his future bride that they were really upset by how he announced this to his fans.  The implication being that the news should have been broken to them gently.  It was too sudden and he didn’t give them time to get used to the idea.  WTF?!  I wanted to scream at this person, “THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU!  THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!”  An engagement announcement in the newspaper isn’t for strangers (and yes, I hate to break it to you, ladies– we’re strangers).  It’s for family and friends to be notified that their loved one has an important life event coming up.  That comment summed up my whole problem with “fandom culture.”   Often times we tend to see celebrities as objects or products to be sold rather than people.  But they ARE people.  People with problems just like you.  People with moms and dads and siblings just like you.  People with mortgages and spoiled milk in their refrigerator and bad hair days and laundry piled up to their eyeballs and dirty socks in the bathroom just like you.  With people they don’t like and people they do.  And people they love.  The fact that fans saw that engagement announcement was just a side effect.  It wasn’t intended for you.  It was intended for one person to declare his love for another and to announce his intentions to his friends and family.  Just like people have been doing in their local newspapers since newspapers were invented.  Mr. Cumberbatch shouldn’t be under any obligation to announce anything to you about his personal life.  If he chooses to, then good on him.  But the fact that someone should be offended or upset that they weren’t told “properly” about a stranger’s engagement is ridiculous.  And SELFISH.  Get over yourself!

The other thing that happened this week is another, more extreme example of one person being selfish and seeing another person as an object to be possessed.  I got a call yesterday at work from a co-worker asking if I knew what was going on at an office building down the street.  There were all sorts of emergency vehicles and people milling around.  Knowing that my best friend works in said office building, I immediately panicked, worried that something terrible had happened to her.  Naturally I called her cell phone and to my great relief she picked up.  She informed me that a co-worker and mutual friend had been shot by her husband in the parking lot of their office.  He came to her work and asked if he could talk to her outside.  They argued and he shot her four times before turning the gun on himself.  The two of them had been separated for a few weeks.  It’s my understanding that the reason for the estrangement was that he was very abusive and she’d finally had enough.  Because he saw her as an object to be controlled and possessed, he couldn’t live with the fact that she was leaving him.  In an ultimate show of selfishness, he took her life and his own, leaving behind two children.  Two.  Whose lives will be ruined because of this extreme selfishness and objectification.

You might be thinking, “Okay Lexxx… please tell us what one thing has to do with another.”  But I’m getting there, just bear with me.  I’m very concerned about our culture.  I’m disturbed that we live in a world where people are so self-absorbed that they only worry about themselves and what they want.  My mother always told me that the definition of love was desiring to put someone else’s needs above your own.  In this world where everything is “all about me,” how can there be any love?  We’re so selfishly “looking out for number one” that its becoming this virus that creates evil and hatred.

Now, please do not think that I’m equating fangirl wailing with murder.  The common thread that I’m getting at here is:  it is not all about you.  If you love someone (in whatever sense), be happy for their successes.  Put others’ needs ahead of your own when it’s healthy to do so.  Remember that people, whether they’re behind a computer screen, the silver screen or the screen door on your mama’s porch– are people. Love them accordingly.  Have the grace and wisdom to know when it’s time to step back and when it’s time to hold on.  I promise– promise promise promise– that it will come back to you.

 

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#TeaserTuesday “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes”

CLICK ME to buy for $1.49!

CLICK ME to buy for $1.49!

So I’ve decided to try this #TeaserTuesday thing.  I don’t normally do it, but I’ll give it a whirl.  So the idea is to give a teaser– just a little paragraph– of your book.  My problem is, I have the hardest time finding ONE paragraph that will entice all of you rabid readers.  But I’ll do my best.  BTW– this teaser isn’t exactly SFW. 

****

“No undergarments.  How scandalous, Miss Spencer,” he rasped against my ear, so close that I could feel his lips moving against the cuff.  He accented his mock displeasure with a firm squeeze.  My nipple immediately tightened under his palm.  Biting back a groan, I leaned back into his embrace.  I could feel his cock, already impossibly hard and trapped in an unforgiving prison of denim, nudging against my backside.  “I could do it, you know,” he continued.  “I could eat you alive.”  His words made my heart pound like a jackhammer against my breast, sending a shockwaves of sensation straight to my center.  Involuntarily, I moved against him, rocking my hips backward in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.  Between my thighs was a rainforest, hot and wet.  I wanted so badly to open them and let the cool air sooth my sex.  I was thankful that I had opted for no panties.  I don’t think my body would stand the friction.  “Careful, love,” he whispered, his voice startling me. “It wouldn’t do to have you come right here in the elevator.” 

Copyright © Alexandra Christian, 2014

All rights reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

****

Damn, that Alexander Kensington– whew…. I could just eat him up.  Here’s more about the book so you can go buy the WHOLE thing for the bargain price of less than 2 bucks! 

Fangirl favorite Alexander Kingston has a “type”—blonde, willowy and sophisticated. He doesn’t give mousey wardrobe mistress Elizabeth a second look, until she transforms herself and sets out to seduce him.

But dark desires are at play. Before long their erotic encounter will turn into a date to die for.

Inside Scoop: This story contains sinister themes and predatory intentions.

A Romantica® horror erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave 

http://www.ellorascave.com/gentlemen-prefer-blondes.html#

 

NEW RELEASE: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_PROOF3

Well baby loves, I’ve been away on vacation for a week but now I’m back and ready to roll!  The last few days I’ve been playing “catch up” at the day job, doing LOTS of laundry and trying to figure out Google+ (Do people really use that?  If you do, please join me there and teach me the ways of your people.).

Well is there a more perfect way to come back after vacation than to have a shiny new release?  I don’t think so.  That’s right, it’s finally available from Ellora’s Cave— “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.”  It’s a short little erotic horror piece that was shamelessly inspired by the craziness of the #Sherlock fandom.  In fact, I’m really expecting some kind of cease and desist order from #BenedictCumberbatch ‘s legal team.  I defy you not to see the similarities in the “hero”, Alexander Kensington and Mr. #Cumberbatch.  Though, I have to apologize a little for that.  I can’t tell you why, as it would spoil the story.  Just keep in mind— it’s erotic HORROR.  “Happily ever after” is not part of the equation.  So I’m going to shut up and give you a little glimpse….

****

I did a little research before hitting the salon. Just a little. Alex’s tastes in women haven’t really changed all that much—blonde stick figures with lazy bedroom eyes and pale skin. Or, as I like to call them, corpses. The hardest part, really, was losing the weight. For a year I’ve done nothing but eat seaweed and go for unenergetic walks around the block. The good news is, I now have that ghostly, wan look I’ve always wanted. Then all I needed was a little hair dye, some makeup and a new red dress. Standing in front of the full length mirror in the hotel bathroom, I surprised myself. For a moment I might have believed that I could actually be one of them. One of those posh peacocks who looked like living goddesses as they strolled down the street.

Teetering on high heels, I step out to cross the street to his hotel. It’s late, nearly midnight. He’ll be at the bar, having a drink at a table in the corner and trying to be unobtrusive. It’s been his habit each night for several weeks. Come in from set, take a shower, put on something casual and un-put-together and head down to the hotel bar for a vodka and tonic. He stays there for about an hour. That’s how long it usually takes for some doe-eyed waitress to catch his eye. They exchange niceties. He compliments her smile. She stammers and blushes, immediately recognizing him by that gravely baritone voice. Innocently, he flashes his famous boyish grin and begs for her utmost discretion, which she will, of course give. At least until the next morning on Twitter. He always leaves a pile of cash on the table and then ushers her out of the bar and up to his room. It’s Alex’s M.O. and it isn’t new. Of course, tonight will be different. Tonight I’ll be the prey.

Copyright  © Alexandra Christian, 2014; All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Ok, so now that I’ve tempted you with an excerpt, I better tell you where you can find this jewel.  You can click the image above or go to http://www.ellorascave.com/gentlemen-prefer-blondes.html to download in any of your favorite eBook formats.  I’ve also put together a little muse board on Pinterest if you’re interested.  It has pics, music, recipes and little excerpts from the story:  http://www.pinterest.com/lexxxchristian/gentlemen-prefer-blondes/ .  And speaking of social media– I’ve done a little update page that has all of my links so you can stalk me better.  If you aren’t following me on Twitter, Facebook, etc– you’re missing out.  I’m way funnier on Twitter at 2am.  Just sayin’…

 

American Girls are Weird, or The Desolation of Lexxx’s Ovaries

imagesCA1Y3W1LSo y’all know I’m a fangirl right?  If you don’t then obviously this is the first time you’ve ever visited my blog.  I mean, yes, I’m a writer of steamy romance, but every girl has to have a muse right?  Besides, reading the same three posts over and over about how GREAT my books are and where I get my ideas is just boring as hell.  So I often digress into prattling on and on about various and sundry pop culture obsessions.  Okay, so maybe just #Benedict Cumberbatch (like that hashtag?  hehe.. I made it myself).  So let me start off by telling why I like him.  I mean, there are many folks out there who don’t get it.  He describes himself as looking like a posh alien and in a way he does I suppose.  My sister, Lucy Blue, once said that he looked like he was some kind of alien shapeshifter who only had some vague idea of what a human was supposed to look like.  Ben (why yes, I like to be on a first name basis with my muses), has also said that his long face and neck generally implies some kind of inbreeding.  If that’s so, then truly incest is the best.  Honestly, I think he’s ethereally physically attractive.  I like striking features, what can I say?  But all that aside– that is only 5% of why I like him.  Ok, maybe 10%.  The rest of it has absolutely nothing to do with what he looks like.

1:  I’m a sapiosexual and that boy has an impressive brain.  He has a command of language and it’s obvious that he does not get his world view from the crawl on Yahoo.  Watching him being interviewed, while he usually seems at ease and is always personable, you can see him thinking.  When he talks about reading books, you know he’s telling the truth and not just being photographed holding them because he can talk intelligently about them. Upon being asked which ones are his favorites, they are not trendy books that EVERYONE has read, but books for which a movie hasn’t been made.

2.  Talent.  If you’ve been living under a rock and haven’t seen any of the movies/ television in which Cumberbatch has appeared this year, then you have to check one out to see what I mean.  I mean, we all have actors we think are good:  Russell Crowe, Tom Hanks, Meryl Streep, Daniel Day-Lewis.  And those folks are great, but holy shit— I’ve never seen anything like BC (yeah, he’s got his own abbreviation too. shush… get yer own!).  I’m a theater nerd from way back and was, in fact, on a slow moving train wreck to being an actress myself (story for another time).  So I feel pretty snobby when evaluating actors.  If they aren’t good, I can’t be bothered.  Even if they look like they were carved out of cream cheese, I just can’t like them.  I’m not naming any names (ahem… James Franco…) but if you can’t act, don’t be an actor.  Your angelic face and heavenly body will be lost on me.  This is why I can’t get excited about Magic Mike 2 (I didn’t even see the first one) or The Fast and the Furious franchise.  Honestly kids, go and find the BBC movie about Stephen Hawking.  Cumberbatch plays the title role and his portrayal of fear, sadness, determination, genius, elation and hope– even without dialogue– is just breathtaking.  And don’t get me started on the physicality that role demands.

hawking

CLICK HERE to watch part of “Hawking.”

 

3.  And he’s a nice fucking guy.  When did this become such a rare commodity?  He’s always polite (even in situations when, by all rights, he probably shouldn’t have been), personable, quick to compliment, funny, tolerant, and just a genuinely nice person.  He doesn’t take himself too seriously and knows that fame is fleeting.  He strikes me as a guy that, although he’s quickly becoming a superstar, would still shop at your grocery store and help you get something off the top shelf if you asked (this is important to me– I’m only 5’2″ and have T-Rex arms).  And as of yet, we haven’t seen any stories about him beating the shit out of some schmuck who put their cell phone in his face to snap a picture while he was standing at a urinal taking a piss.  And yes, he’s reached that point in his celestial path where people have made him an unfeeling object.  People who would have no trouble whatsoever in walking up to him and snapping his picture at point blank range without so much as a “hello.”  And the fact that he hasn’t clobbered someone yet speaks volumes.

Okay, now that I’ve finished gushing, let’s get to what brought this to mind today.  I was reading a site called Celebitchy today, having followed links, and got to a page that was talking about Ben’s recent stint in Malaysia (he hosted the Laureus Awards and did some presenting for the BBC at the Formula One Championship last weekend).  The article was snarky, but complimentary for the most part until it got to the end where the writer was talking about how he seemed to be trying to “butch up” his image and I thought— wait, what?  “Butch” up his image.  As if he’s been effeminate up to now?  And then I thought– ohhhh…. American girls are weird.

We seem to be having some kind of cultural crisis in America right now, ladies and it’s time we talked it over. It seems to me that over the past several years, we’ve taken a real swan dive in the qualities we value.  It seems that we can’t be bothered with men who aren’t impossibly beautiful (as in photoshop beautiful), cut like Greek statues or adults.  That’s right, I said it.  In our Red Bull guzzling, not going to work so we can play video games, teetotalling, Frat Boy arrested development male culture in America, we seem to have forgotten what real men are.  So now we’ve decided that any man who dresses like an adult (meaning he wears a freshly laundered button down shirt or dress pants or God forbid– a suit), shaves regularly, combs his hair and has a real job is gay or effeminate or a snob that thinks they’re better than everyone.  And I’m so sick of it!  I love men.  MEN.  Not boys.  And Benedict Cumberbatch is very obviously a man.  Just because he prefers a gin and tonic to Budweiser should not imply that he needs to “butch up.”

Isn't he cute!

Isn’t he cute!

As an aside, my husband combs his hair every day, wears clean clothes and has a real job.  He also has a Master’s degree in history, a funny accent and an IQ well over 140.  He doesn’t like racing or video games though– maybe he needs to butch up his image.  #NothingToDoWithWriting

SEXCERPT Time– Hellsong by Alexandra Christian

Yes, I did spell that correctly.  Time for a little sexy excerpt (see what I did there?) from my #newrelease from #EllorasCave!  Uggh… I hate hashtags, but some genius computer person thinks they’re necessary.  Whatever.  Here’s a sexy little excerpt from Hellsong.  I do believe in taking a test drive before you buy the car…

**********

Hellsong_EC

She shuddered, feeling dizzy at the warmth of his breath. She could feel his eyelashes against her cheek and she turned her head slightly. He took this as an invitation and brushed his parted lips against her temple, kissing her eyes, then the crest of her cheek and down the narrow path of bone to her lips. She couldn’t help herself from opening her mouth to him, letting his tongue delve inside to play against her teeth.

She sank deeper into his embrace, arching her body upward to offer more of her mouth to his fevered kiss. His arms wrapped around her tighter, his hands resting on the corners of her hips, then drifting lower to the rounded flesh of her bottom. She groaned softly when he squeezed, using the leverage to press her body tighter against his. “What are you?” she whispered against his lips.

“You know what I am,” he growled, forcing her against the window frame, pinning her between the rough wood and his body.

“This can’t be real,” she gasped as his mouth found the hollow of her throat.

“Say it,” he ordered, his voice gravelly with arousal. He twisted his fingertips into her hair, pulling her head back to bite at the overheated flesh. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Angel,” she whimpered, getting lost in the feel of his mouth traveling over the contours of her collarbone and shoulders. “Angel,” she repeated in a breathless whisper. “You must be…” She groaned, cradling his head against her chest. His hair slipped through her fingertips like late summer corn silk and she twisted the strands around her fingers.

Saraqael smiled in a way that conveyed utter relief as he fell to his knees before her. He rested his hands on either side of her waist, his thumbs digging in to the fleshy hips, keeping her still above him. The sloppy, button-down shirt she wore was open, showing a hint of the concave of her belly just over the waistband of her jeans. He used the tip of his nose to open the folds and press his lips to her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to stifle the moan when his tongue delved into the hollow of her navel suggestively. “Fallen?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Not yet, but I’m sure you’ll work harder, Daemon. I used to be the Archangel Uriel,” he whispered, brushing his generous lips over the curves of her hips. “And when I was sent to Earth, I became the Grigori.” He watched her reactions, taking in each nuance as his fingertips trilled over her skin—higher and higher the crept. Her breath came in short gasps, her skin prickling at his touch. When his fingers reached the smooth satin of her bra, she felt a jolt of fire between her legs. And when his palm found the center, she feared that the flames would devour her.

“Perhaps it is you who is the demon,” she groaned.

He smiled and ran his hand over her sternum. “Perhaps I’m seducing you for my own sport.”

“Not very angelic, Grigori.”

He did not respond but straightened to his full kneeling height. With a careless gesture, he pulled the shirt open, letting the buttons fly carelessly. The cool night air from the window made goose bumps pop out all over, pulling her skin taut. Before she had time to complain about it, the warmth oozed over her body as his hands found their way under the satin barrier covering her breasts. His rough, calloused palm scratched against her nipple, making it harden immediately. She whimpered with the sudden heaviness and arched her body toward his.

*************

Damn.  I love that Saraqael.  He’s just… rawwrrr… He’s one of three “men” in that book that are just… rawwrr.  Have I mentioned I like men?  A lot?

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Does She Ever Talk About Writing Anymore?

Yeah, I know.  I’ve gotten to where, on my blog at least, I’ve beenme and amy (2) talking a lot about my other interests.  And I hope that’s okay.  I hope that’s a contributing factor as to why I’ve had a serious upswing in my followers and traffic to my quaint little blog.  The fact is, I’ve gotten to where I hate reading the same things over and over on every writing blog that I follow.  I’m going to list some topics and… stop me if you’ve heard them…

*  Where do you get ideas?

*  How to get the most bang for your marketing buck?

*  Various sex topics (BDSM techniques, positions, sex toys, etc.)

*  How to get published.

*  I hate/ love social media.

I bet they sound pretty familiar huh?  Yeah, me too.  And everyone has the same old answers.  So recently,  I just decided, fuck it.  I’m going to blog about stuff that interests me, stuff that I observe, things I see online or on television, music… whatever.  Now don’t worry… I will still pop up with little pearls of wisdom about my writing, my process and of course my books (duh… I’m a whore just like everyone else). And I always try to tie it to writing in some respect.  After all, pop culture inspires the hell out of me.  So coming up this week, I will post my hot and heavy, drooling review of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug entitled:  How Benedict Cumberbatch Laid Waste to My Ovaries. 

1000573_490362137720823_1050310338_nAnd speaking of Mr. Cumberbatch, I have to make some noise about the weirdest thing I saw on the internet via Facebook on Sunday.  Y’all know that I am a fangirl.  I admit it.  I’ve even come out in defense of Fanfiction (scroll backwards in the posts, you’ll find it).  My Pinterest and sometimes Facebook feed are awash with my little obsessions.  I livetweet about Sleepy Hollow and American Horror Story and I’m sure that I’ll be livetweeting about BBC’s Sherlock in a couple of weeks (any of you in the UK, if you give me spoilers before Jan. 19th, I’ll kick you til yer dead).  Anyway, I digress. 

On Sunday, I was reading a blog post that was relating the story of a Q&A done right after the screening of Sherlock, Series 3, Ep.1: The Empty Hearse.  The Q&A panel was “moderated” by Caitlin Moran, a fairly well known writer/interviewer/some might say feminist.  The long and short of it is, Ms. Moran thought it would be a laugh to have the show’s stars read a fanfiction aloud to a crowd of many.  I haven’t watched the Q&A in question because I’m avoiding any spoilers of any kind, but from what I hear– it was pretty damn uncomfortable for everyone.  For one thing, the hot rumor is that she told the actors that it was not explicit.  Apparently, her definition of explicit was not shared with the class and it quickly descended into a Brokeback Mountain kind of uncomfortable (remind me to tell you sometime about that).  Anyway, from what I understand, the actors were good sports, though they did politely scold her for the pointless endeavor that kind of lessened what should have been a serious discussion. But of course, just like with anything “fandom related” (insert dramatic music here), that was just half the story.  The real story is the… what’s a good word to describe it… RABID twitter/ tumblr battle that ensued in the aftermath.  In fact I think we could call it “The Q&A:  The Desolation of Twitter” (see what I did there?)! 

Now I’m in some fan groups.  I’m on Twitter.  I wouldn’t say I have my finger on the pulse of the “Collective.”  I can just observe when their eyes are dilated (hidden obscure references abound).  And lemme tell ya, it got a little bit out of hand.  People ridiculing fanfiction, people ridiculing slash fanfiction, people ridiculing feminists… honestly, the Twitter board I saw yesterday read like a girls’ locker room throw down over the captain of the football team.  So what do I think about all this?  As if anyone cares…

1.)  Essentially, the actors in question (Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, in case you’ve been under a rock this year), had their say and have moved on with their lives.  We should too.

2.)  Bullying and mudslinging from both sides is just stupid. Take off your sheet, put your big girl pants on and be fanWOMEN, not fanGIRLS.  That goes for you too, Ms. Moran. 😉

3.) The writer of the fanfiction had nothing to be ashamed of whatsoever.  She’s a good writer and should be proud that she’s brave enough to put herself out there for strangers to read. 

4.) You guys know what I write and I’ve had to read it in public before. They were my own, original words and it still made me blush.  Putting unsuspecting people on the spot like that is just cruel.  And also seems to diminish what they do.  I’m just sayin’– all the artists in that scenario were insulted.

5.)  Everyone makes mistakes and looks like a big ol’ donkey butt every now and then.  Granted, they don’t usually do it in public in front of international stars, fans, television executives and journalists… but we do act like cunts from time to time.  I’m sure that the world isn’t going to fall apart any time soon just because this was Ms. Moran’s turn. 

All righty, then…so yeah, the blog.  I’m going to try to do some updating this week.  My shows are in hiatus for the holidays, so nothing on that.  But I’m sure I can find something to talk about.  Probably mishaps with tree decorating, the recipe for the best fudge ever, more fangirling… no, fanWOMENing.  OK, I’m not sure that’s going to catch on.  It’s kind of awkward…

Fanfiction: Masterclass for Baby Writers or Root of All Evil?

me and amy (2)OK, admit it, when you saw the FANFICTION at the beginning of this blog post, you thought, “Has The Belle finally taken leave of her senses?”  And the answer is: no more than usual.  Let me begin by saying that I’m very positive on fanfiction.  Like many of my colleagues, “fic” was my introduction to building a story.  Yes, kittens, beneath this cool exterior beats the heart of a true fangirl.  If you’ve seen my Pinterest page, you know that already.  I’ve always been a movie person and had that little obsessive streak.  I still do. I’m hugely inspired by movies, music, television, actors and actresses. Therefore, fanfiction has been crucial to my development as a writer.

The first complete short story I ever wrote was a fanfiction.  It was 1996, I was in college and I was obsessed with the TV show, Forever Knight.  If you’ve never seen the show, its the predecessor to all the sympathetic vampire shows we know and love now.  Anyway, I joined a mailing list (remember those?!) full of other Forever Knight fangirls and I was introduced to the fic phenomenon.  The story was called “First Kill” and it was a shortish, angsty piece about Nick Knight and his first involuntary vampire murder.  I’m sure if I came across it now, I’d cringe at how awful it was.  However, it helped me craft a complete story without having to worry about building a world and a lot of original characters.  I also got lots of encouragement from other people that  liked the story and liked my writing style.  They also told me things that I could do better.  I started to think, “Hmm… I might be able to do this.”  Fast forward about 5 years and found a new mailing list dedicated to “Moulin Rouge.”  That’s where I really took off and started writing A LOT.  I actually gained a following (hi out there to any former Cleo followers) and learned how to add details, description and plot twists. Oh and did I mention explicit sex scenes?  I also had the remarkable experience of meeting some of my best friends IN THE WORLD on those lists.

The point of this story:  writing fanfiction is like training wheels for authors.

Now, the dark side.  Fanfiction is technically copyright infringement.  Wait, wait… don’t jump on me yet.  When you write fanfiction, you have to keep in mind that your fingers are playing in someone else’s pie.  And if you’re going to play with their worlds, then you have to respect their rules.  Some authors/ screenwriters/ filmmakers/ actors are very positive on fanfiction and even encourage their fans to have fun with their universes as long as said fans aren’t making money off of it.   Authors such as Neil Gaiman, Arthur Conan Doyle, J.K. Rowling, E.L. James, Stephanie Meyer, Terry Pratchett, Jim Butcher and many others give their full blessings to fan fiction writers as long as no profit is being made (the exception being Conan Doyle who is, in fact, dead– of course his estate is a different matter for a different blog post).  They realize that their works have inspired others to write and their creativity might lead future authors to realize their potential.  Others are VERY MUCH against it. Marion Zimmer Bradley, Orson Scott Card, Diana Gabaldon, Laurell K. Hamilton, George R. R. Martin, Anne Rice, and J. R. R. Tolkien are pretty adamant that their works NOT be borrowed or played with.  And that’s just a small sample.  So keep that in mind before hitting that PUBLISH button on Fanfiction.net.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVRDQacBVh0

The thing I don’t like about fanfiction is that some folks have taken it too far.  The “rules” have become way more stringent than in my day and flaming seems to be the rule of the day.  When I was writing fic regularly, it was a very supportive environment where aspiring writers tried to encourage other aspiring writers.  Now it can be like a warzone.  Fic authors are afraid to write Original Female Characters (OFCs) because they’ll be accused of doing a “Mary Sue.”  If you don’t know what that is, a “Mary Sue” is the author inserting herself into a story in order to engage in sexual situations with the objects of their desire.  I was actually reading a story on fanfiction.net the other day (yeah, I went snooping before writing this post) and in the author’s note the poor girl had actually apologized for her OFC.  This disturbed me because 1– you should never apologize for creativity and 2– if you never create an original character, then you’ll never move beyond fanfiction into your own stories.  I wanted to write this poor girl a note and tell her to take that apology back.  It was obvious to me that this girl was very young and very new to writing, and I’d hate to think that some fandom battleax would crush her because she’d dared to have an original idea.  I’ve also heard that for some fandoms, if someone dares to write a “hetfic” (meaning that the pairings are heterosexual rather than slash) that they’re almost guaranteed to be flamed off the list.  This disturbs me.  If two male characters aren’t gay in their fandom’s canon, why do we insist on forcing them into a sexual relationship in fanfiction?  Don’t get me wrong, if you want to write that– awesome.  Have at it.  However, don’t flame someone else who isn’t into that.  Personally, if I’m writing fanfiction about a heterosexual character, then its more satisfying to me to keep them in character (I’m lookin’ at you JohnLock!ers… ;P).

Now, the answer you’ve all been waiting for:  Do I, Alexandra Christian, Southern Belle, erotic author and part-time pinup girl, write fanfiction?  Yes.  I do.  Do I publish it anywhere?  No.  It’s something I write for myself for my hard drive for my eyes.  Fanfiction is now how I break through blocks, give my brain a rest and work through writing issues that I might be having.  I share it with a few friends every now and then, but for the most part I keep it to myself.

Mostly so George Lucas doesn’t kill my dog.

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ingenue_new lineCOMING FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 1ST!!– Not a fanfiction…LOL

Never fall in love with a hoofer. That’s the advice given to Stefan—advice he immediately ignores when he falls head-over-heels in love with burlesque dancer Rose, the shimmying, corseted star of the Footlight Theatre. But wicked, wounded Rose is far out of the humble stagehand’s reach.

Rose has stars in her eyes—and bruises on her face. As she suffers abuse at the hands of a cruel patron, she dreams of the day when she’ll find her way out of her nightmare and into the arms of the passionate, protective Stefan.

Inside scoop:  This book contains scenes of domestic violence before the heroine fights back and finds her true hero.

A Romantica® historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave