Cooperation, Unexpected Turn-ons, and One Night Stand.

 

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I’ve recently been thinking a lot about cooperation and connection. I’ve long been a proponent of cooperation in the lesfic community. I often share book links and blogs for other lesbian writers. I believe that the only way we can thrive as a community is for us all to help each other, rather than taking a me and mine attitude. I support women and I try to surround myself with women who support me.

With that in mind, it’s been fun lately to spread that spirit of connection and cooperation beyond the lesfic community. When my friend Elizabeth Anderson insisted I go to the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, I was blessed to meet some incredible male authors. I have a reading event with one of them next weekend.

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And today, I’m featuring the blog of the bitingly brilliant, sarcastically witty, charmingly sexy Lewis DeSimone. His book, Channeling Morgan, can be found here.  (My wife sat on the couch and chortled while reading this book.)

So sit back, relax, and enjoy the musings of Lewis DeSimone:

 

A Nightstand I Never Expected to Be On

By Lewis DeSimone

 

Novelists are like parents: once you send your baby out into the world, you never know where it’s going to end up.

A lesbian couple I knew kept a copy of my first novel, Chemistry, in their guest room, with a bookmark stuck in the middle of the hottest sex scene. They claimed that their guests—mostly other lesbians—loved it. I’ve heard that straight women are often into gay romance, and even gay porn—as a means, I suppose, of enjoying male sexuality without the danger and complications that often come with straight men.

But lesbians? I wondered. Why would they want to read about sex between men? One of my first lesbian friends told me that lesbians have hot sex for one night and herbal tea for nine years. With numbers like that, why on earth would they want to waste an ounce of sexual energy on men?

Before the knives come out, this is all tongue in cheek (so to speak). I long ago learned that lesbian bed death is a myth. A couple of episodes of The L Word were enough to shatter that stereotype.

On the other hand, I won’t deny that Chemistry plays right into stereotypes of my own community. To put it bluntly, my first novel is riddled with sex. But that’s kind of the point. It’s the story of a sexual awakening, focused on a character who heals a broken heart by opening himself up sexually. Sex is one of the ways he discovers who he is, so I wasn’t about to be coy with it and end scenes with a description of waves crashing to shore. Instead, I freely showed bodies crashing into each other.

My subsequent work isn’t all that sexy. I like to joke that my latest novel, Channeling Morgan, is the only one in which nobody dies. But it’s also the only one in which there’s no cameo appearance by a penis.

You could say I’ve matured. Or that my testosterone level—even in fiction—isn’t quite what it used to be.

But maybe it’s just that some books need sex and others don’t.

Sex is messy and confusing and, above all, unpredictable. I googled this question, don’t you worry. But, like a lot sex, none of the hypotheses I found was fully satisfying. There is no unifying theory of everything when it comes to sexuality. Maybe, when it comes right down to it, sex is sex. And, just as you can’t really predict who you’re going to be attracted to, you can’t always be sure which depictions of sex will turn you on, either. That’s why there are so many subgenres of porn: one gay site I know of has dozens of categories, from “Amateurs” to “Voyeur.”

So who knows why a lesbian would get turned on my book? Who knows why I got turned on by seeing Blue Is the Warmest Color? Who knows why I love asparagus but hate artichokes? (I mean that literally, by the way. It wasn’t until I’d already typed out the sentence that I realized the sexual imagery. See what I mean? Sex is everywhere and nowhere at once.)

And that woman with the herbal tea? I met her at an AIDS service organization in Boston in the late 1980s. When I was just coming out, into a community with two kinds of people: the dying and the terrified. And lesbians, with only minimal threat from the epidemic, were at the forefront in fighting it.

In the end, it’s love that turns you on.

 

 

Lewis’ website

(Just in case you want to buy the sex-filled book.) Chemistry 

 

At Long Last

My life seems to be steam-rolling into a long-awaited success these days. Did you ever feel that you just worked your ass off on something for years and years and sometimes, it seemed as if nothing was happening and just when you started to think you were on the wrong path, one little thing falls into place and then, so does everything else?

I’ve been pounding away at school and writing for years, almost a decade now for writing, and seven years for school. Being an adult learner has its challenges and I won’t try to pretend it was easy. I can’t count how many times I had to drag my computer and books along to a writer’s conference because assignments don’t wait for real life stuff.

After I got my first master’s, I assumed I would have a teaching job within a couple of months. I was so wrong about that. I was conferred on November 1, 2016. It is now August of 2018 and I am just starting to teach my first classes. And it never rains but it pours. I was hired last spring to start teaching for the MFA program for Southern New Hampshire University starting in October of 2018. In the meantime, Johnston Community College, under the direction of the brilliant Doctor Tammy Bird, hired me to teach a couple of comp classes online.

My sixth book came out on August 1. On August 6th, I was notified that a short piece of mine was accepted into a mainstream literary journal. Today, August 10th, as I sit here laboring over learning how to use the back end of the online teaching platform, I received notification that the first fifteen minutes of the audio version of Coyote Ate the Stars was finished.

I know it seems as if I’m bragging, but the knot of anxiety that has lived with me off and on for years finally has a little bit of ease. Struggling to pay the bills, not sure whether I will be able to keep the electric on, being sure that nothing I wrote was worth anything, wondering whether I would ever get a job in my field – all of this was such a weight and now, despite feeling desperately busy, I feel so light. Like, my goals and dreams are finally coming to fruition.

I think the moral of the story is that if you know you want it, keep reaching for it, even when it seems as if it’s never going to come. Over the years, my dreams evolved, my career plans changed a bit. I used to want to be a full-time professor, but now, teaching online is really working for me. I still have time for my writing, I don’t have to put on pants when I don’t feel like it, and my wife and I might really be able to fulfill another dream of one day chucking all (most) of our possessions and living/travelling in a motor home.

I’m just saying, if you want it, work for it. As long as you’re doing one thing every day to work toward your dream, whatever it is, you can never give up. One thing. Ten minutes of writing. One resume to a dream job. One guitar lesson. One more first date – whatever your dream is, figure out your steps and just start working them.

And if you get discouraged, message me. I’ll either cry with you or cheer you on. ❤

 

 

 

******* Next week, I’m taking a break from blogging and inviting Lewis DeSimone, a hilariously witty writer, to take over my blog for me. Stay tuned!

 

GCLS Conference

joy and beth at con 2018My partner and I got married two days before conference, so the whole thing was kind of like a working honeymoon. Despite that, the Golden Crown Literary Society this year felt like a homecoming. Perhaps that sounds odd, with over 100 new people this year, but it felt intimate, loving, and welcoming.

We had a diverse crowd, different ages, different races. It was wonderful to see so many young people. The board is getting old (I mean that lovingly – I’m part of the board) and we need young, fresh minds to shake things up for us and keep us relevant.

beth readingI read from my soon to be released novel, Coming Around Again. Incidentally, my publisher had copies of the book at the conference as an early bonus and it sold out. I’m sure it had nothing to do with me promising to write naughty things in the books that people bought.

The writing academy was a shining star this year. The whole 2018 graduating class was there and they were amazing. Such a great group of talented and smart women. I was proud of them in every way. The WA also donated a free year’s tuition to the GCLS raffle and it was won by a woman who had been in the writing academy presentation, excitedly asking lots of questions. I have a feeling she is going to do great things.

The GCLS board works tirelessly to put on this event. (Okay, not tirelessly – we are all exhausted.) This is a labor of love as the board is all-volunteer. We all put so much time and effort into bringing the best conference experience to every participant. And our reward, other than the happy faces and awesome hugs, is coming back and doing it all again for next year.

I hope to see a huge crowd in Pittsburgh next year. We just keep getting better every year and I can’t wait to see how incredible the next one will be.

 

 

Saints and Sinners

I’m excited to be part of the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival this month. My partner and I are taking the train and I think we’re both looking forward to twenty hours of peace and solitude before the big celebration. It’s a good time for an appearance. Eating Life has had a nice uptick in sales lately, spurred, perhaps, by the news that my fifth book, Coming Around Again, will be published by Sapphire Books Publishing in fall of 2018.

I’ll be on two panels and will be giving a reading, so if you are anywhere near New Orleans, consider coming out for this LGBT centered portion of the Tennessee Williams Literary Festival.

 

A New Way to Commune with Readers

Beth Patreon Flier

My patreon platform is going well for the first week or so. I have four patrons so far and I have posted quite a bit of content that others won’t get to see – short stories that will only be posted on Patron, rough drafts with editing notes, cover reveals that others don’t get to see yet – even blurbs from current WIPs.  The engagement so far is fun…. the readers seem to enjoy the content and they like having a say in what I post.

This upcoming week, the patrons are getting a video-reading from my upcoming novel, Coming Around Again, release date fall of 2018.

There’s even a rumor I may post some of my poetry, heretofore only seen by myself and my cat.

And no one has to wear pants.

 

 

Excerpt from Eating Life

From my novel Eating Life. It’s one of my favorite moments because I think it is the exact moment Ben chooses to stay alive. ❤

 

Casey knew that nothing she said could ease his pain. She waited, occasionally putting her hand on his head or his shoulder. Finally, his sobs subsided and he started breathing more normally. Casey reached across him to the counter and grabbed the bag of chocolate chip cookies.

“Here,” she said, handing it to Ben.

He laughed a little. “Chocolate chip cookies to save the soul.”

Casey shrugged. “Look at me,” she said, smiling. “Obviously I turn to food for comfort.”

Ben snorted. “You look great. Don’t disparage yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m being honest. I do turn to food for comfort.”

Ben shoved a cookie into his mouth. “So do I,” he said around a mouthful of half-chewed cookie.

“Yeah, but you’re skinny,” Casey said. “When you have food issues and you’re skinny, people are sympathetic. When you have food issues and you’re fat, people are just disgusted.”

“Jerky people.”

Casey patted Ben on the head and smiled. “I don’t know if I’m the right person for this, Ben. But I’m going to try to keep you alive.”

He reached into the bag of cookies and looked up at her. “These cookies are a good start.”

 

***

 

Casey woke up wrapped in her sleeping bag with Dakota stretched out at her side. As bad as his hips were getting, he could usually find a way to jump into her bed when he wanted comfort. She stretched thoroughly and got up to go outside. Dakota followed her out the door, immediately lifting his leg on the nearest tree. Sadly noting how his leg barely came off the ground anymore, Casey watched him make his rounds of the trees and bushes. Noticing a break in the trees, Casey stepped over some tangled vines and headed for a small clearing. When she stepped out of the trees, she found herself looking down over the edge of a cliff at the Pacific Ocean. She thought about Ben throwing himself over the side of the cliff. What did it take to end one’s own life? Sad as she had been at so many points in her life, she could only remember one time when she was low enough to consider ending it. It was during the worst of the days with Ally, after the emotional abuse had turned physical. It was after Casey had already cut Megan out of her life because Ally hated her. Those were days when it felt as if she would never feel happy again. Once she had gotten out of that alive, she knew she would never take life, or Megan, for granted again. Sure, there were still a million little moments of sadness over the years. Megan had stepped in on several of those occasions, walking her through the deepest of her heartaches. She closed her eyes, calling up the strong and beautiful features of her most cherished friend. Megan could build a rocking chair and cook a soufflé. She had just enough mechanical knowledge to avoid getting ripped off when her car broke down. She could build a campfire, and she looked great in a suit. Casey wondered if Megan was happy now, working for the advertising company and supporting a partner. Dakota came up beside her and she rested her palm on the top of his head. Together, they stared at the waves.

A branch snapping behind her startled her out of her thoughts.

“Morning, early riser,” Ben mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he came up beside her.

“Hey. This is an amazing view.”

“What are your plans for the day?”

Casey shrugged. “I thought I’d wrestle some coffee out of my old percolator. Once that’s done, I’m going to take everything out of the car and repack. Hopefully I can make some more space. I didn’t organize it when I left Sedona, just threw everything in and left what wouldn’t fit.”

Ben smiled. “You’re a wanderer. Little pieces of you are all over the country. What happens when you decide to settle down?”

“I don’t know.” Casey sighed. “Some days, I think it would be nice to have a permanent home. Then I get to a place where I think I’ll stay for a while and after a few weeks, I start to get anxious that I’m missing something somewhere else.”

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Ben said.

“With or without you?”

“I’m still thinking about it,” he answered.

“I’d like to stay for a few days. The woods are my friend. But then I need to head out. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen Megan and I’m suddenly missing her like crazy.”

“Where does she live?”

“Memphis.”

“Memphis. I’ve never been,” Ben said.

“Want to go?”

“To Memphis?” Ben took a step back, laughing.

“Why not?” Casey shrugged. “Dakota likes you. Megan would probably adore you. What else do you have going on?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Well then.” She scritched Dakota behind the ears and turned to walk back toward the cabin. “I need some coffee. I’ll hang here for a couple of days and you can decide if you want to go with me to Memphis.”

“They make Krispy Kreme doughnuts there,” Ben said.

“Yeah. Warm off the line,” Casey laughed. “Dakota loves them.”

“Can we go to Graceland?”

Casey stopped, looking back over her shoulder. She stared at Ben, who looked back at her, expressionless.

“Graceland?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell? One more overpriced tourist trap won’t kill me.”

 

Eating Life Cover

 

Patreon

I’ve recently started using the crowd-powered content site Patreon. It’s a great way to offer content to readers and fans who want things that no one else will ever get!

Patreon offers a reward system. Sign up to pay a monthly fee and you get content from me that no one else gets to see – EVER.

Why would you do something like this?

  1. That content. Super awesome content. The best content of all-time. I mean, maybe.
  2. You’ll be a patron to an artist. (Writer.) Just like some old king.
  3. If I get enough patrons, I’ll just write and create content all the time and you’ll get even more awesome stuff.
  4. Not having to wear pants. (Okay, this one is really only for my benefit, but I know you want me to be happy and I’m happiest when I’m not wearing pants.) **For my UK friends, pants here = trousers. Don’t want to make this post PG13.

You can find my patreon page here 

 

And you can watch my welcome video right here. (Cheesy jokes come standard. Togas not included.)

 

The Winter Blahs

It always hits around mid-January, doesn’t it? The holidays are over, you’ve shoveled way more than you want to, you’ve debated moving somewhere warmer for the fifteenth time, and there’s nothing left to do but sit inside in seven layers and wait for spring.

I like to write during this time. I’m not going to be leaving the house much anyway, so I might as well make some productive use of my captivity. I wrote three books in 2017, and a great deal of that work happened in January and February. (And again late in the year in November.) In the spring, I like to be outside, and in the summer, there are conferences and road trips and camping. Winter is a good time to write.

Except  – it’s January 14th and I’ve only put about five thousand words down on paper. But I’m not beating myself up. One of my New Year’s resolutions is to not be hard on myself. I’m going to follow the same advice I give my students. Sit down and write for at least fifteen minutes a day. No matter what else happens, you can make time for fifteen minutes. You’ll be amazed at what you can do in fifteen minutes a day.

It’s my commitment to myself and my readers. Fifteen minutes a day. I may not write three books this year, but I will definitely write at least one.

 

What is giving up?

I sold 91 copies of my most recent novel, Eating Life. 91 copies of a book that took two years to write, countless hours of rewriting, several pass-through revisions with an editor, and, figuratively, a lot of blood and sweat. (The tears were sometimes literal.)

91 copies of what I consider my best work yet.

91 copies of the book that made the most rabid fan of my first novel, Man Enough, the person who read my next two books and said, “Excellent, but no Man Enough,” finally, finally say, “And now I have a new favorite Beth Burnett book.” And it got excellent reviews. Read them for yourself here. And if you have read this book and haven’t reviewed it yet, why not?

91 copies. Enough money to pay the electric bill. For one month.

I know I don’t know how to market. I know I don’t do enough for my books to give them an audience. I know I’m not out there pounding the pavement looking for bookstores that will sponsor readings or repeatedly asking my library to carry my books. I don’t like it, it makes me anxious. I know sitting around hoping someone will set up an event for me and tell me to be there is not going to sell books. I get that.

But I have to admit that I really wish there was someone that did that.

The thing is, I fell in love with Eating Life. I fell in love with the characters. I thought one of them, Ben Stagg, was one of the best characters I have ever invented. So much so that he is going to come back in another book. I love him and the rest and I wanted everyone else to love them, too.

91 copies and I’m finally beginning to wonder if maybe this is not supposed to be my career. I know money isn’t the whole point, but it is part of the point. And it’s a special kind of sadness that comes when my alter ego, who writes short and easy little erotica stories on Amazon, makes more money from those little hour-from-start-to-finish stories than I do on the novels I’ve worked so hard on. Long ago, when I was complaining to a friend about my books not selling as well as I wanted, she said, “Write for yourself, not for an audience.”

Well, if that’s the case, why bother publishing? If the goal is to just write what you love and not let it matter whether or not anyone is reading it, why share it at all?

I’m still writing. I finished an excellent YA fantasy during NaNoWriMo. I have a completed lesbian love story that just needs some revision. And I have a women’s fiction book that is, in my opinion, funnier than much of the bestselling women’s fiction I’ve read.

I still love writing. But I don’t have the heart to deal with everything that comes after. I can’t seem to make myself  research publishers and agents or send out query letters. I think I just need to take a break from it all. Not from writing – from writing for reasons other than to just write.

I’d love to know how other writers deal with this. What do you do when you don’t sell? How do you reconcile marketing versus writing versus deciding to just go get a day job? When do you decide to stop seeing writing as your dream and relegate it back to a hobby?

 

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