We as authors have many enemies. Yeah, you heard me. Enemies. Adversaries. Nemeses. Whatever. These entities lurk out there and have the audacity to rain on our creative parades. They won’t let us live in the blissful, artistic vacuum we long for. They come in many forms, too. Sometimes they’re Bookscan numbers. Sometimes they’re eBook pirates who are “actually doing the author a favor.” Gah. Sometimes they’re blog reviewers incapable of picking up on anything subtle in a book (don’t worry, Bam–you always get subtlety, thank God) [Bam: Thank God, indeed].

But the biggest, baddest one of them all?

Amazon.

It’s true. We’re told over and over not to pay attention to Amazon, that it’s not representative of the entire market and that its ranking system is too convoluted to follow. BUT HOW CAN WE NOT PAY ATTENTION? It’s not like Bookscan, whose numbers are only updated weekly and come to us through special channels. Amazon is *right there* in front of us. Some of us could, um, I don’t know…even set her default browser page to her Amazon bibliography. Hypothetically speaking. And Amazon’s rankings change every hour, for God’s sake. Every hour.

And what does those rankings mean exactly? Hell if I know. What does it mean that Vampire Academy was #1725 an hour ago and now is #1647? What happened?? Did someone buy a copy of it? Three copies? Did someone *not* buy a copy of someone else’s book, hence making my rank go up? Why do the numbers get higher at night? Is my fanbase composed of nocturnal types? Or people from Belgium? And why do my numbers go up when Jackie Kessler releases a book? (I actually just roll with that one–best not to question).

After we recover from our own ego-fretting, we then have to deal with fretting over other author comparisons. I’d be lying if I said emails hadn’t been exchanged in my coterie of writer friends with messages akin to, “OMG. [name withheld for my safety] is at [stupid silly high number] on Amazon. How is that possible? Is there no justice in the world? Her writing sucks!” Then, there are other non-number comparisons, like, “Why do people who buy my book also buy *that* book? Mine has nothing to do with clay pigeons.”

It’s madness, I tell you. Madness.

And this isn’t just me. Most of the authors I know are boggled by this stuff too, even if some are better at hiding their Amazon-stalking than others. My obsession tends to peak during new releases, and I’m finally coming down off the Succubus on Top rush. April’s going to be an insane month, though. Hopefully in a good way–because I swear, if Frostbite doesn’t get a good number on Amazon’s Books > Children’s Books > Literature > Science Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery & Horror > Spine-Chilling Horror list, I’m going to be pissed. Just as soon as I figure out what exactly that list means.

Gotta run. Numbers have changed.

Richelle Mead is the author of 5 novels, including the Succubus series, the Vampire Academy series, and a new one coming out from Kensington in September called Storm Born. Her talent astounds me.

Bettie Sharpe’s winner is… Deemer. Deemer, you get a copy of Like a Thief in the Night, a brilliant novella that’s part of Samhain’s Strangers in the Night anthology. Email me and claim your prize.

And Stefanie D. wins a copy of Jackie Kessler’s anthology, Eternal Lover which will be released in April. Stefanie, you’ll get your ARC as soon as J.K. gets her author copies. Oh, and email me to give me your info.

I shall be in and out of the Internets these next few days. I’m sick. Stupid bug. I’ll shake it off soon enough, hopefully. By the way, I’ve got this really awesome guest post by Richelle Mead, so I’ll put it up as soon as I can.

And now I’m going to pass out. Kisses.

And now for a meandering blog about nothing in particular…

For reasons I can’t really explain, I was reading through the February ‘08 issue of Esquire this weekend. Yes, there are many things wrong with that sentence. Suffice to say I read boy magazines now and then for a few reasons: (1) to fight off boredom; (2) to see what little gems of wisdom are in there; (3) to keep in touch with my “male” side so I can write interesting heroes; and (4) to chuckle. This month’s sex column met three of those needs. Here’s the question:

How can I tell if a stripper is really interested in me?

I would identify this as a fine example of #4. I laughed, and laughed…and laughed at the underlying point here, which is: I am so hot that the stripper wants me more than she wants my money. Only a guy could jump to that conclusion. So, after working through my fit of laughter, I read the response. Now, the column is written by a woman named Stacey Grenrock Woods. She responded with a funny (and lengthy) answer about commerce and the frailty of the male ego. This explains why I don’t write magazine columns because I would have said, “you’re an idiot” and moved on to the question from the guy who is upset about his girlfriend’s inverted nipples [another example of #4]. Instead, Woods said:

So if you notice her grinding away on you more tenderly than she grinds the others, simply say to her, “Hey, I don’t come here to Captain Cream’s every afternoon you’re working and pay $16 for 7Up just to get my kicks, you know? I’m an honest guy, and I’m not looking for some kind of tawdry, degrading experience that I can get from my girlfriend or my wife. So I’m asking you right now: Skylar or Karen or whatever your name is, will you make me the happiest man in the world and take me bowling?” and see what she says.

Fabulous advice. Much better than my “you’re an idiot” idea. The whole question/answer thing also gives great insight into #3 while proving that my #3 probably should say: to keep in touch with my “male” side so I know how not to write a hero. Sure there are enough heroes out there who look alike (tall and dark), sound alike (like women unless they’re impressing us with their profanity) and think alike (hate commitment until…look at that buxom thing standing over there). But imagine a romance novel with a hero more like the men who write the inverted nipple/stripper questions. A juvenile half-wit who pays money to see women naked while trying to figure out why the tips of their girlfriend’s breasts are concave. Now that’s sexy.

Since life is about balance, I’ve decided to make my heroes realistic without all the belching, scratching, underwear left on the floor, thinking strippers love them stuff. It’s a risk, I know. Readers want true and interesting characters. I’m just betting they don’t want to hear a hero whine about the freaky look of the heroine’s nipples. Kills the moment.

Or am I wrong…

The lovely Helenkay Dimon is the author of Viva Las Bad Boys and Your Mouth Drive Me Crazy. Her new novel Right Here, Right Now will be coming out late February and Hard as Nails will be out in June. She lives about twenty minutes from me and yet we have never met. During the San Diego fires, she gave me her phone number and told me to call her if my family and I needed somewhere to go. She rocks my socks. WHEN ARE WE GONNA HAVE COLDSTONE, HELENKAY?!?!?

An original story from Liquid Silver Books author, Darragha Foster

Please read Chapter One if you haven’t already.

Prince Hlini, or Lin, for short, is a man’s man. He enjoys riding, archery and killing animals in days-long hunts with his courtiers. He is also royal pain in the ass—literally. His voyeuristic and sodomite penchants have kept him much too busy to find a suitable wife in which to sprout his noble seed—because it’s safer to make love to page boys and stable-hands than it is to possibly produce a child who will someday poison you to usurp your throne. Prince Lin also suffers from a tad bit of paranoia. There is one woman whose tremendous beauty (and delicious potatoes) has caught his eye…Sigyn of the garden corner. But greeting her from horseback is about as close as he’s ever been.

Sigyn is the daughter of the village witch and the village undertaker. She is of the lowest caste in the kingdom, for she works on her knees in the dirt, mixing in compost created by her father from the burning of the kingdom’s dead. Still…she has the most successful vegetable stall in the realm. People come from far and wide to buy her fruit and veg. With strength, beauty and a height most women will never see, Sigyn could have many suitors—all lower class, uneducated dirt-farmers. She wants more from life. She wants to be king.

Eventide… a gratis lectori salutem (free to the readers) e-tale by Darragha Foster about that magic time between the end of day and the beginning of night. Beware the mist, the call of the geese and horny wood-wives.

Warning: If you’re familiar with Darragha’s work, you know this story will contain sex, violence, and all-around… quirkiness. If you’re not familiar with Darragha’s work…

And now the second chapter of Eventide…

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Looking through the archives of Bam’s Guest Author Series for inspiration, I came across many posts I’ve enjoyed by authors I admire. And in the process of reviewing all those fascinating ruminations on the writing of romance fiction, I thoroughly intimidated myself.

I wasn’t really sure what I could add to the series until I read Kate’s recent post on the joys and confusions of pseudonymity. She introduced another great contest asking commenters to think up a name and bio for her newest alter ego. I started thinking about my entry for the contest, but all of the personas I imagined were a little bit bad. Which I guess I should have expected, seeing as almost every heroine I write is a bit of a bad girl. Which decided me on the topic:

Being Bad
by Bettie Sharpe

The term “bad boy hero” gets bandied about quite a bit in discussions of romance novels. Though many readers complain the character type is overused, boy-oh-bad-bad-boy, does it sell books. Sadly, despite all those tasty bad boys wandering around Romanceland, there aren’t many bad girl heroines to match them. Yes, there are badass heroines, and feisty heroines and kick-ass heroines, and heroines who can hold their own—– but bad girls who enjoy being bad? Bad girls who end their tales only slightly reformed, or significantly “badder” than they were at the start? Those I have yet to see in any great numbers.

Maybe that’s where I come in. See, I like my heroes bad, but I like my heroines badder.* Why should heroes get to have all the fun? Why should they be the only ones who are dark, deep, broody, conflicted, criminal or just flat-out psychotic? Maybe girls wanna have some of that fun, too.

Or maybe it’s just me.

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