A submissions editor's perspective

Hello! I am Kathryn Lively and I am an editor for Phaze Books - I have also worked as an editor for Echelon Press, Whiskey Creek Press, and for other publishers. I have been asked by the good people at Oh, Get a Grip! to blog a bit on this week's topic of cliches. Since part of my duties at Phaze involve monitoring incoming submissions (and we are looking for titles for summer and fall, BTW), this seemed like the perfect opportunity to cover the pros and pitfalls of stories that dance across these lines.

When we think of cliches specifically in romance and erotic stories, what comes most often to mind are specific characterizations and circumstances that we may believe have been done to death. We all know about the "Too Stupid To Live" heroine (even hero, in some cases) who either is too dim to see how poorly she is treated - or perhaps she chooses to turn a blind eye to her lover's unbelievable imperfections for the sake of moving the plot forward. As an editor, it is challenging to evaluate some submissions where the cliches are apparent, particularly when the editor has a good idea of how well certain stories sell.

For example, let's say an editor reads for a house where four of the top ten best-selling books for the year featured a similar plot device. It could be anything - a certain kind of meet-cute, a widow getting a second chance at love only to discover her first husband didn't die, or a main character humiliated to the point where she moves home and reconnects with an old flame. You study this house because it's your goal to place a book there, so you read these books. As a writer, you're concerned about falling into cliche traps, so you may wonder if you are risking a rejection by offering this house a work set outside this "comfort zone."

I can't speak for all editors, but I do admit that sometimes as I read I look for two things: a quality story and sales potential. Publishing is a business, and if the books don't sell there is no business. Does this mean I'm not willing to take chances? I don't think so - in the five years I have acquired works I've thrown the dice more than once. I've scored a few naturals, and hit a few snake eyes, but I don't regret the choices made. A writer should not feel as though he/she should submit a cliche that sells as opposed to something unique.

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Kathryn Lively is an award-winning writer and editor, and executive editor of Phaze Books. She is an EPIC Award nominee and has edited EPIC Award nominated titles for Phaze Books, Whiskey Creek Press, and FrancisIsidore ePress. She also maintains a pen name, L.K. Ellwood, for other mysteries.

Kathryn's latest book is Dead Barchetta, available through most online retailers.

http://www.kathrynlively.com/
http://www.deadbarchetta.com/
http://www.facebook.com/livelywriter

As my hubby once told me, "You're good in history...

by Jude Mason

...you were there for most of it."

Yeah, and I still love the man. Lord knows why but I do.

Writing historicals, if I can slip in a little sci-fi or alternative action, well, that works for me. But, if I have to stick to the facts, I'm afraid I'm going have problems. Lot's of em. I've never read a historical romance novel. I have no interest in the accuracy of the history part of the book.

I have written two historicals, one a time traveling thing that isn't published yet and deals with the natives in my own area of the world. I'm not sure if that would be considered a historical though.

The other, a tale that takes place in the year 1898 in New Orleans. I enjoyed writing it immensely, but honestly, couldn't tell you how accurate I was with my scenario or language. This is due for re-release in January 2010 from Phaze, so you're getting a kind of sneak peak here of 'Of Death and Desire':

The train ride from Memphis to New Orleans took more out of Philip than Jonathan liked. His lover's health was deteriorating faster all the time, and even with the tonic and poultice applied every night, the man could scarcely catch his breath. He'd become so thin and frail it tore at Jonathan’s heart. He'd always been slender, but now his joints looked like knots of bone holding him together. His sharp-featured, fair-haired Adonis was fading before his eyes, and he, with all of his wealth and position, could do nothing to stop it.

Sitting next to him in the carriage, Jonathan ached to wrap an arm around the younger man's shoulders, but even in this city of sin he didn't dare. Dressed for travel in charcoal frockcoats, vests and slacks, both men were stifled. Philip reeked of sweat and his face shone with it. His high collar was soaked though and he finally took off his hat in hopes of cooling himself.

"We'll be there soon, Philip," Jonathan reassured and wished he could do, or say, more.

Philip looked at him, eyes bright with fever and nodded dismally.

The trip through the city center was horrid. New Orleans had a smell about it that never quite went away. Those who lived in the city became accustomed to the heavy humidity and its stench of decay from the brackish water of the gulf and Mississippi River. Those visiting never could.

Half an hour later, Jonathan helped Philip from the carriage and walked beside him to the steps leading to their vacation retreat's front doorway. It was an impressive building surrounded by ancient oak trees with long, wispy beards of Spanish moss sweeping the well-manicured lawns and cobbled walkways. Flower beds of every variety and color imaginable filled the air with an almost cloying sweetness, nearly masking the scent of the delta, until a breeze swept by and magically the heady perfume disappeared. The two-story house had wrought iron railings on the second story balcony, and shutters bracketed each of the tall windows.

Cobblestone paths meandered around the lawn and around several large bushes, leading to who knew where, but at that moment all he could think of was getting Philip inside and into bed. The man was beyond tired and stumbled ahead only as Jonathan pushed him. The front stairs were mountainous and Jonathan all but carried his lover up them. Finally they stumbled across the wide porch and reached the door. With his arm around the sagging man’s waist, he reached in his jacket pocket for the key his friend Cecil had sent him. He fumbled for a moment with the unfamiliar lock, but soon pushed one of the large, beautifully carved wooden doors wide.

A blast of cool air enveloped him. Beside him, Philip shuddered and straightened. Jonathan felt his ribs expand and knew he was taking in a deep breath of that refreshing cool air. It seemed to give him strength for a moment and he shook himself loose of the helpful embrace, walking into the foyer under his own questionable steam.

* * *

I think the characters were what really made the story come to life for me. That and the mystery. The actual time of the thing, to me, wasn't as important as the love the characters had for each other and the willingness of one to give up what he most treasured in order to be with his lover again.

What brings a story to life for you? Does it matter what era or the dress? I'd love to know.

Covers, Covers, oh those sexy, naughty COVERS!

by Jude Mason

Having been around for a little while, I've had an amazing assortment of covers. Some work, some...not so much. I realize that not all artists are gifted equally, the same as authors, teachers, painters,welders, anyone. But, there are some covers that really would be better off left... anywhere but on the cover of a book.

My first novel, Who Races-Who Wins, was published a good number of years ago, and as I was never consulted about the cover art, I truly was aghast when I got this first one. The publisher, who I won't name, chose this cover for me herself. Now, this was a fetish book, but the cover didn't convey the fetish properly, and to be really honest, I couldn't figure out what it even was for the longest time. I also cried when I saw it. This was my first venture into the real world of publishing and I had such high hopes for this book. The genre was femdom, the fetish: pony boys. Okay, so the woman had a bit in her mouth, but for crying out loud, it wasn't supposed to be her, it was supposed to be the guy. I was told hunky men on covers didn't sell. "Say what?" I was flabbergasted.

I did a little ranting, a little crying, some begging and was finally give the cover you see to the left. It was closer, sort of. Okay, so it wasn't really. Still had the woman in the rigging, no man in sight and it just didn't fit the content.

I got email about it. Nasty email saying the cover was misleading. Hell, I agreed. I'd asked if I could find some artwork for it, or have someone design a cover for me... anything for the right cover! Nope, this was it. So, I was literally stuck with the wrong cover. The contract was binding and I lived with this for several years.

It was a learning experience and one I haven't repeated.

I do realize many authors don't get to chose their covers. I completely understand that cover artists are busy and there's only so much they have time to do. But, I also realize it's up to me to do all I can to get my books out there looking the very best they can be. These are MY BOOKS.

Since then, I've had some amazing covers, created by some of the finest cover artists there are. In my opinion, anyway. There is a gift to designing a cover. The picture has to tell its own story. It has to draw the reader to it. After all, it's the first thing a buyer sees. If they dislike the cover, they're likely going to find something more attractive, more along the lines of what they're looking for. Yes? Well, sure they are.

Now, check out this next cover. What would you think the content of the book is about? Spanking, definitely. Spanking a man... well Hell yeah! He's gorgeous... and again, those are my hand prints, got it? He likely doesn't look like all the men in the book, but he doesn't have to. He's fit, he's facing the right way and there are hand prints where they need to be.

The rest, well you'll have to open the book to find out. Oh yeah, there are authors names to check out. If you recognize any of them, that's awesome. The editors name is there too, strategically place right under his bum... cheeky Keta. But, it's the man you're looking at that's interesting. And it's what the book is all about, so this is an awesome book put out by Nobel Romance. Other covers! Oh yeah, lots of them.

Let's check out the series Jenna mentioned yesterday. She and I put together a quartet of books based on Bon Jovi's 'Slippery When Wet' Album. (You gotta love that as a title for an erotic series!) She wrote two books and I wrote two. The covers were designed by Phaze's, Michelle Lee and I think she did an amazing job.

Now, I'm prejudice, I know it, but aren't these covers cool. The handcuffs mean something and by the look of who he's being cuffed, it's not for play. This is 'your arrested and going to jail' handcuffing. The shower scenes, well when you read the books you'll get the full meaning of them, but even before you do, you understand that something is going to happen to four men in the shower, in prison. At least that's what I got from them, and that's what Jenna and I planned.

Each cover gives a peek into what the book is about. That's what they're meant to do. When they hit the mark, as the one to the left does, it's an amazing thing. You know this is going to be about animals and a sexy man or two. You know it's going to be hot, just looking at the guy and you know there are going to be cougars, at least, in the book. All of that is correct.

Also, from looking at the background, you can guess the stories are going to take place outside, in the wilderness. Yup, they do and all that comes from a quick look at the cover. Pretty damn cool, don'tcha think? Jenna and I were gobsmacked when we got this one... in a very good way.

Thank you, Total E-Bound cover artist April Martinez. She's an amazing artist and has done several of my covers.

Now, if the cover misses the mark, readers feel cheated, at least that's what I've been told by several. The covers entice them to pick the book up. If the cover is a lie, as the first book of mine was, it's cheating the reader into buying something they're not looking for.

I've been incredibly lucky with my publishers now and the cover artists I've worked with. I try to give them credit when I receive a new cover and I'd love for you to check mine out. Here's
a link to my cover art gallery.

GALLERY

Sigh, just saying that is huge. I am one very lucky woman. What's your take on covers? Do you think they're important or not? Would you pick up a book with a cover you find distasteful?

Hugs

Fangirl Squee

By Jenna Byrnes

I have to admit, getting new cover art is still one of the biggest thrills in this business for me. I can usually be found on various Yahoo Loops showing off the new cover while the book is still sometimes months away from release. There's something about seeing a beautiful book with my name on it that just makes me want to squee like a fangirl at Monkees concert.


Um, did I say Monkees? I meant Blink-182. Yeah, that's it.

As Lisabet mentioned yesterday, some publishers give the author more leeway than others. Most allow the author to fill out a form with their vision spelled out in a paragraph or two. Some even allow the author to send links to stock photos they'd like to see used. I've done it both ways, and I gotta tell you, looking through stock photos is tons of work. I've spent hours searching for the perfect thing and sometimes never finding it. But when I do--man, oh man, is that a great feeling.

Jude Mason and I chose the various photos for our Slippery When Wet series and Michelle Lee at Phaze put them together for us in a manner we were both extremely pleased with.

(See all four covers here)

Alessia Brio at Phaze did a super job on my Streets of Fire series with some minimal input from me- I loved the New York skyline, the heart shaped cuffs, and I chose three different men in various white shirts for each of the three covers. I think these came out great, even if they suffer from the chopped head syndrome. (Which actually doesn't bother me. Sometimes when the physical description of the character doesn't match the picture, it's better to chop off the head and go with a sexy torso.) I love these covers, and the one below is my favorite. I chose it for the cover of the print version, coming this month from Phaze. (You can see it in the sidebar to the right on this blog.)

(See all three covers here.)

Jax Cassidy at Phaze caught the feel of my novella, Play it Again, Sam, with the sepia tinted cover she created. This story is about two men who spend their afternoons hiding away in a run down movie theater, one working and one simply watching Casablanca, over and over again. Jax got what I was going for, and I was very happy with the cover.

I didn't have any say in the Noble Romance anthology Spank Me Once cover, but I have no complaints. What's to complain about? LOL This one generated quite a bit of buzz online. I guess you can see why. Artist Fiona Jayde definitely 'got' the concept of this book!


Total E-Bound has never done me wrong on a cover. I'm continually impressed with the quality of their work. April Martinez did my Cattle Valley covers and I think they captured the spirit of my little Cattle Valley lesbian tales quite nicely. I'm very happy with them, as I am with all my TEB covers. Quality stuff.



I'm pretty easy going when it comes to covers, but of course I like some of mine more than others. If you think I'm going to tell you which ones I don't care for, think again. I know who butters my bread. *G*

In other people's books, a cover might influence me when I know nothing about the author. But if the book is by an author I enjoy, the cover doesn't matter. Jude Mason could release a blank white page with black text that read, "Book by Jude Mason" and I'd snatch it up. *grin* I know a good thing when I see it.

The Humor of Sex, or the Gospel According to Rose Nylund

This week's guest blogger for Oh, Get a Grip! is Kathryn Lively, publisher of Phaze Books. Kathryn is here to share with us her wisdom on humor and sex:

The scene replays occasionally in my mind. It comes unbidden, usually when I sit down with the intent to write a serious love scene. In a time before I understood the term cougar to mean something other than a sleek jungle cat, Blanche Devereaux nibbled on cheesecake and waxed nostalgic over her magical first…night…ever under moonlit magnolias with Bobby.

Or was it Billy?

Or Ben?

The name isn't important-even Blanche shrugged off the details of her faulty memory-but the point was that sex could be magical, and in some views funny. Not to be outdone, Rose Nylund related her own tale of innocence lost and capped it with the rhetorical question, "Didn't you think at the time…that was a funny thing to do?" That being putting Tab A into Slot B.

I should insert an aside here: if you are absolutely certain you are never going to have sex again, feel free to read the rest of this post. If not, the risk you take is your own. I'll accept no complaints of how I'm responsible for your mid-coitus snickering.

It's wise not to think too hard about Rose's question, because if you place yourself outside the act, strip away any trappings of high production value porn flick, you just might see that sex is a funny thing to do. It involves our funniest-looking parts, causes parts we wish didn't look so funny to move in funny ways and, if done too quickly or with too much force, it can result in funny noises and cause the mind to wander and think of unsexy things, like what is that fwapping sound and gads, what my ass must look like in this position.

We make funny faces during sex, it can't be helped. Remember that song "Turning Japanese"? You really think so? Apparently it's a term used to describe how a person's face screws up and winces during orgasm. Indeed, in my memory I can see the faces of former partners and how they looked hovering overhead, lips pursed and eyebrows arched. They turned Japanese, Laotian, Armenian…looking as though they should be sucking on Tums instead of…well, you know.

As we write about sex, we tend to bestow funny names on our private parts, because saying, "he put his penis into her vagina" is just too clinical, and is hardly indicative of the vast vocabularies we possess and wish to use so our English degrees don't completely go to waste. Why say vagina when pussy, kitty, quim, muff, channel, box, mound of Venus, weeping lotus, cradle of love, pink palace, nether lips, vertical smile, treasure cove, love-slick core, and font of womanly nectar relays the image with more clarity?

In our quest to breathe more life into this fantasy, a clitoris becomes a love button, and the penis a fleshy, throbbing rod. And, people don't simply orgasm in romance novels. A woman rides the wave of ecstasy until it crests, whereupon she crashes headfirst into the foamy shore and unleashes all pent-up frustration in the form of a glass-shattering howl. Her lover doesn't merely ejaculate, but grunts his release, pumping his sticky seed in or on her (depends on who you're reading), the image not unlike that of a fireman hosing down a burning office building. Thanks to the amazing ability authors display in ending chapters, there's no mess to clean up afterward.

Don't you think this is a funny thing to do? How long till we get to do it again? Hopefully for me, very soon. First, though, I need to prepare my petition to EPIC to add a Humor category to the EPPIE Awards. Got a nice sexy piece waiting for it.

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By day, Kathryn Lively is an editor and publisher. By night, Leigh Ellwood is an author. Visit both halves of the whole at www.KathrynLively.com and www.LeighEllwood.com. If you meet her on the street, it is advised not to make direct eye contact.

Tramps like us, baby we were born to run

By Jamie Hill

By Detective Sam Nielson

Carrying a badge comes with certain benefits. Jamie had this dumbass blog entry scheduled about ‘my favorite genre’ and I couldn’t freaking stand it.

Select, Copy, Delete.

Takes care of that. I am Jamie’s favorite genre and I’m sure I’m her favorite hero ever. (Nothing wrong with my ego.) I’m taking over the blog because I need to talk.

My name is Sam Nielson and I’m a detective in the New York Police Department. Oh, and in case I forget to mention it, I’m gay. This will make much more sense if you know that. My two best friends and I met in the police academy twenty years ago. If you read my buddy Nick D’Amato’s story, Dancing in the Dark, you know this part. Bear with me, because I tell a much better story than that fuckwad D’Amato.

In those days, cadets weren't as closely supervised. Hell, it was probably me, Nick, and our other pal Gil who caused them to tighten rules at the police academy. Training is one thing, being on the job is totally another. In the NYPD, the policy has always been a don't ask, don't tell kind of thing. A few of my co-workers know I’m gay. They also knew I’m a damned good cop, so it’s really not an issue.

Finding another gay guy at the academy was amazing. Nick and I had some great times. When we met Gil, and got comfortable with each other, the three of us had weekend orgies at a nearby hotel. We were three young studs, able to go at it repeatedly, for hours. Those were the days, my friend.

Eventually, our time at the academy ended. We each went our separate ways, deciding our friendship was more important than lust. Over the years we’ve become closer than any of us dreamed possible. Sometimes our jobs bring us together, but if not, we have a standing date every other Friday night at Houlihan’s, a cop bar in the Bronx.

We were there when I first spotted him. Neatly buzzed black hair, light brown Hispanic skin, muscular body and a face that could launch a thousand hard-ons. Bobby Rodriguez. He was a new transfer to my very own unit, Fort Apache. He knew who I was. I thought I’d seen him somewhere. I’ll never forget him again.

We were assigned a case together right off the bat. I guess I was kind of an asshole. He thought I had problems working with a gay cop, and said he’d ask to be reassigned. My jaw coulda hit the floor. I explained, with a lump in my throat, that the only problem was the hard-on he’d caused from the moment I’d met him. It wasn’t any better, sitting in a car next to him. I was screwed. Or soon would be. Heh heh heh

He surprised me again when we got back to my place. Bobby asked if I liked things a little kinky. I told him I really didn’t know. He asked if I trusted him. I knew the answer to that one—yes. With the swift movement of a trained police officer, Bobby pulled a set of handcuffs from his back pocket and snapped one ring around my wrist. He gazed at me and smiled. "Glad to hear you say that. Because I'd never hurt you—much."

A tingle of excitement ran down my spine. I should have been afraid, but for some reason I wasn’t. Maybe I was ready for a little kink in my life.

My full story releases today from Phaze Books. Born to Run is book two in the Phaze Rocks: Streets of Fire Series. Oh, in case I forgot to mention it, my friends and I are addicted to Springsteen. His old stuff, circa seventies and eighties. Some things just can’t be improved upon. On the other hand, my new Master, Bobby, has shown me that some things can.

Stay outta trouble,

~ Sam