thatrcooper: (pye pye pyewacket by rani)
Sorry I've been so lacking in updates! I was working feverishly to finish two different projects. (And I did, so yay me! The Winter Prince, a fairy tale, and a story for Halloween that I was going to put on Amazon, but it turned out a little different than I was expecting. So we'll see about that one. But it's so gonna have a familiar pun in the title. Because puns! Overly Familiar sounds good, right? Something.)

But this post isn't about them. This post is about some stories about Beings. Specifically a handful of short stories about Beings throughout the last century, from shortly after they first came out of hiding, to about now. You may have heard me mention these shorts before. I've been working on different ones for *years* now. And now here they are. Eeeee!

The Firebird and Other Stories

Magical creatures known as beings emerged from hiding amid the destruction of the First World War. Since then they’ve lived on the margins of the human world as misunderstood objects of fear and desire. Some are beautiful, others fearsome and powerful. Yet for all their magic and strength, they are as vulnerable as anyone when it comes to matters of the heart.

A firebird in 1930s Paris is drawn to a writer with a haunted past. Upon returning from fighting in the Pacific, a jaguar shifter finds a third-gender human on his doorstep. Early rock ‘n’ roll DJ Hyacinth the fairy shocks his listeners with his admiration for his quiet assistant. During the AIDS crisis, a gruff, leather-wearing troll dreams of a settled life with a mixed-species elf across the bar. An imp, who remembers only too well how cruel the world can be, tells himself he’s content to stay behind the scenes—if only his chaotic, impish magic would stop getting in the way. And a shy human tending his poisonous and carnivorous plants is convinced no one will ever want him, certainly not the handsome werewolf grieving for a lost mate. Human or being, all must overcome fear to reach for love.

Guys, I can't even tell you how cool it is, and how honored I am, that Dreamspinner agreed to publish a book made up entirely of short stories about my magical failboats in love. This is something I would never have dreamed of. In a way, it's my own little book of fairy tales and I am a super giddy dork about it. (No, really. I was distracting myself with writing projects, and now they are done, and I am basically flitting around giggling about this to myself. Like a weirdo.)

To celebrate the release day, Friday, September 18th, (a day, sadly, I will be working at the day job) I have queued up a whole bunch of interesting pictures and songs and posts of subjects relating to the short stories. I've queued up so many, in fact, they will probably last into Saturday as well. If you're interested, check out my Tumblr.  That's me, sweetfirebird. (ahaha my name will finally make sense to people.)

In addition to that nerdy party, on Saturday night (the 19th) I will be on Tumblr to answer any questions people might have, or if they just wanna hang out, or talk about non Beings things. I might even be tipsy on champagne, so obviously that is when people should ask anything they want to know. ;) Chatting on Tumblr is odd because of the format, but you can easily visit my askbox and say hello. It's the link that says Ask Me Anything. (But FYI I live in California, so I am on Pacific Coast time.)

In addition to *that*, you can always ask me stuff on Goodreads at the Ask the Author link. Just keep in mind that Goodreads does not notify me of questions in a timely way, so sometimes my responses will be slow unless I have Goodreads open in a tab--which I likely will that Saturday and Sunday.

This is so exciting!

And ooooh before I forget, Some Kind of Magic is now available on audiobook! SO MANY BEINGS! WE'RE SURROUNDED! Nerdy Beings party! History dorkiness! and Kazimir! My diva!


Yeah okay. I will try to calm down now.
thatrcooper: (charlie and will)
So... you guys are pretty great. Just so you know. :) Depression sucks, and sometimes it hits with no warning and drains you, and it makes trying to fight your way out of the hole so much more difficult. Then, you know, everything in the news. (My Tumblr right now is sadness and outrage, and I understand if people unfollow me or avoid me for a while. You have to do what's right for you.) I didn't intend to talk about any of that, by the way, or my life at the moment, but not acknowledging it felt weird. You can't be struggling not to fall deeper into depression and despair, and then learn that someone lost that fight, and not be upset about it, even if you didn't know that person.

I'm not going to go into details. I am just going to repost something I've posted around before.

7 Cups of Tea for online support and help, or just someone to listen

Most countries have their own suicide prevention groups. Look them up, bookmark their websites, program their numbers into your cell phone. Maybe you don't need them now, but you might someday, and I want to know people have them available. Okay?

Anyway. I'm making myself cry now, so I'll stop. (Believe it or not, it's a good thing I'm crying.)

Uh, I originally started this to share "official" things with you all. It seems kind of stupid to talk about right now though. Maybe I will do another post over the weekend. I did some shorts in an effort to claw my way back to the surface. I'll probably share those too. :) Thank you all again for your kindness, and I hope you're all well.

thatrcooper: (pye pye pyewacket by rani)
Sometimes I wonder how much I ought to talk about, what sort of writer-blogger should I be? Share everything personal? Share nothing personal? Something in the middle? Only positive things? Then I think, meh, girl, focus on the stories. But that does leave weirdness that still has to be addressed.

Like right now I'm in a weird in between place with my stories. Normally I am down for in between and undefined, but other times a definition is useful. Am I a writer? (Or at least, a paid one?) Am I better off as someone with a real life, outside of my head, job who only writes when she can, as a hobby? I know some people like my stories, but most people hate or are indifferent to them, from what I can tell. I am, and always have been, a weirdo outsider. So really not being hugely successful or popular isn't a new thing for me. (Always the weird bridesmaid, never the weird bride). But I've reached a point where I have to do the math (ugh) and figure out what's best for me, financially and mentally. So I'm kind of in a strange headspace right now. It doesn't mean I'm not writing or doing anything, just that my mood has once again swung down and I'm not in condition for a lot of things at the moment. Real life can wear a person down, sometimes.

For something less melancholy to talk about, we could discuss buttsex in m/m romance fiction. The expectations for it and the ways it's used and written. But uuuggghhhh that sounds like a deep discussion (no pun intended) and I don't think I can handle it yet. I only mention it at all because of Wicklow and his touch/trust issues.

Speaking of Wicklow. Did I ever tell you guys how Lucy and I like to discuss an event that happened before the book, when all of D.C. was convinced Rhoades was already sleeping with Wicklow (even if they didn't know their exact relationship or what Wicklow does for a living)? And some political rival of Rhoades' attempts to go after Wicklow to get at Rhoades, and Rhoades finds out and slowly, thoroughly, ruthlessly, destroys that person to make it clear to everyone the consequences of trying to go after his people/his Wicklow? And he never mentions a thing to Wicklow? He simply continues to invite him over in the evenings, and feed him and care for him and watch him when he thinks Wicklow won't see?

Only Wicklow always sees more than he lets on, and he hears the rumors. He doesn't think Rhoades did it for him, exactly. He thinks Rhoades was protecting the team, but this is Wicklow and he doesn't like debt. And secretly he is pleased Rhoades did this merciless thing for them. He's proud of him, fond in a way Wicklow doesn't have words for. So he decides to reward Rhoades, in his way, and holds still when Rhoades watches him and lets him look. Until he's shivering and unduly warm and confused because he thought he was doing Rhoades a favor but he is the one who feels better with this unspoken thing shimmering between them. Rhoades is looking and for the first time, although Wicklow doesn't say it or even think it directly, Wicklow is considering what Rhoades wants from him. And he is warm, and he is not scared. Perhaps he ought to be. He knows what Rhoades is capable of. But he is safe there in Rhoades' library. Rhoades will never hurt him.

And by the way, thank you, anyone who reads my stuff, and especially those who send me comments. It's honestly one of the greatest feelings to hear about how someone stayed up late to finish your story, or how it made them cry. Sure, I respond awkwardly and probably always will. But it's genuinely moving to know somebody liked something I did that much. You guys are great. :)
thatrcooper: (elizabeth hug by someone)

By LC Chase. Sinful, sinful Rhoades. Ready to take Wicklow on an odyssey (in his pants, aaaw yeah).

So, as far as I know, all the editing and everything is done. Due out for sale... some time in July. I have no idea when exactly yet. Will let you know.

But speaking of July, I will be doing a "Meet the Author" for Dreamspinner in July, at Goodreads. I am... slightly terrified. I've never done anything like that. But I figure I can try it out, and if no one shows up or if (when) I do something awkward, I can drown my sorrows after, right? I kind of predict a few people showing up, mostly just to yell at me for all the unfinished and unpublished Beings stories on my hard drive.

Er, speaking of which. So I finally finished a complete draft of Little Wolf, then decided it was so long (so, so long!) because I had to explain the town it's set in. So I wrote a short story to explain the town. ...Which somehow became a novella. So now there's a random novella I hadn't planned on and I still need to edit down Little Wolf. Also I can't decide if the novella needs an epilogue. But at that length it would really be more of a small novel, and how the hell did I accidentally write a small novel about characters who didn't exist a month ago??? How is this my life? How is this my brain?

So. That happened. Werewolf. Wizard. Slight misunderstanding. Some brownies. I don't even know anymore. It has no plot, you guys. It's just soft pining for 57k. And meanwhile, there Little Wolf sits. Impatient. Glaring at me. Tapping his itty bitty foot. (He's not actually itty bitty.)

SIGH. But hey, in the meantime, if you guys feel like discussing your favorite magical shifter type romances, is having a chat/discussion about them this weekend. I was invited but I have real world job (ick) and cannot attend. Someone should go represent dragons though. :)

Read more for presonal crap. )


Personal moment. Something to learn about me is that sometimes I disappear. It can be an introversion thing, or a focus on writing thing, but it can also be a negative thoughts/bad mental place thing. Sometimes it's a combination of all of those. The upside? I've been writing and editing a lot. The downside? Well, is the downside. Also I'm not really in the best place to judge what I've written when this happens. I only mention it because I'm never sure how much of an author's issues people want to hear about, or what is expected of an author's presence online, but I prefer to be honest about stuff like this. I can't be happy and upbeat all the time and I usually try to avoid posting when I'm like that. But I'm not hiding it, so much as I don't want to bring others down too. But, yeah, I vanish once in a while. jsyk.
thatrcooper: (stephen by aixsponsa)
I keep writing all these things and I don't know what to do with them. Weird short story things and alternate universe of existing story things. Just random ideas that don't seem to have a place, no matter how adorable I might think they are.

Short stories in the Beings universe seems to be a place my mind keeps going, though I have no idea if that sort of thing is publishable. Maybe a series of them with a unifying theme. Or no theme, just a series of short stories. (Would that be a thing people would read?) It might include existing characters or it might be all new. I wrote a thing about an imp in love the other day.

An imp! I know! It just happened.

Anyway, I'm still alive, just sort of frazzled. :)

Have an excerpt...

"Someone once told me that you were the enforcer of Mr. Summers' political will, Mr. Rennet. You should consider the source of your information," Campbell the reporter snapped back, sweating but brave. Rennet stared at him, then directed a look over at John. John was calm, even smiling faintly, which could have meant anything, but he wasn't intervening to shut Rennet up, so after a long minute, Rennet arched his eyebrows.

"Just Rennet," he corrected the reporter, in case this was on the record. "Rennet the imp. What kind of idiot would hire an imp for matters of a delicate nature? I'm an embodiment of chaos, asshole. I don't do good or evil. Didn't you learn this in school?"

"Asshole seems harsh, Rennet," John commented, taking his empty cup and setting it next to the coffee machine. Rennet would need at least two cups to feel any effects from the caffeine. John removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves before preparing a second cup, just for Rennet.

"See?" Rennet continued with his mouth dry, trying not to stare at John's forearms. "Sorry about the asshole thing, but you honestly think I take orders from this guy?"

Margery coughed around her sip of coffee.

I don't even know where my brain is anymore, but Rennet will pretty much do anything John wants, little delusional failboat that he is. He is fooling no one.
thatrcooper: (paris by cunningcroft)
A while ago I wrote a very silly short story in an attempt to get it published in one of Dreamspinner’s anthologies. The anthology was sports themed romance stories, and why I thought I could write anything sports themed I have no idea. It’s really no surprise they didn’t want it for that. (I mean, holy balls, the title is There Is No Pon Farr In Baseball. It just screams athleticism doesn’t it?)

However, they do want it just on its own. A little, vaguely sports-related but not really, story on the side. Since I feel good about that and I haven’t felt good in a while, I am going to share the love. (Also I have been messing around with Smashword and their tech.)

For the next two weeks (ish? roughly?) here is a coupon code for 30% off Ideas of Sin.

Coupon Code: XK25G

It expires May 5. Have some pirate porn. :)

Edit: hmmm I have to change the title... but to what?
thatrcooper: (sleepy holly by holly_ita)
Anyone down for a lonely-yet -not-alone-because-internet champagne extraaavagaaanza on Saturday? (And also oh, hey, I have a book coming out tomorrow/today depending on location, and I can't celebrate until Saturday but I have a bottle of Mumm and a bottle of Clicquot and a lot of nerves that will need calming. With bubbles. Tiny, tiny bubbles.)

I'll be Tumblr if you are. Busy with smut and snippets and questions and all those tiny bubbles. :)
thatrcooper: (elizabeth hug by someone)
I have been going through... things... so I apologize for not being around much. The fun part of being crazy is that I get to say things like that and y'all have to be understanding about it. But yeah, life, seriously. (When you are playing "I am a rock" by Simon & Garfunkel over and over again it's maybe time to emerge from your fortress deep and mighty). I am working on being a person again, just in time for the holidays.

In writing news I finally got something from Dreamspinner about A Boy and His Dragon. I assume if I'm just getting the cover specs sheet about the artwork that it won't be coming out until January at least. But I don't have a definite date yet so bear with me.

Meanwhile, I should reformat that short story I did a while back and hopefully get it up on Smashwords soon. And I still want to do something for the food bank Second Harvest for Thanksgiving. I don't know what would raise the most money. I was thinking of maybe writing something in small sections and posting a new section every time someone donates to Second Harvest (even a dollar) or takes a picture of themselves putting cans or boxes of food into a donation bin at their local grocery store. You know, holding your story hostage until people get fed. Something?

I really need that secretary my third grade teacher said I would need in life now. Plz. I also need to channel my inner Will and go dancing. I haven't in over a year and that is just wrong. If only I had friends...

Ah well. STORIES. Let me think of some.
thatrcooper: (elizabeth hug by someone)
Honestly I have so much denial that I am the writer who is constantly surprised when my characters are me. I mean, obviously they are parts of me, but it’s never the parts I think they are. Like being such an unmedicated pain in the ass all the time with anxiety and depression and losing most everyone around me because of it, driving them away maybe (or slightly on purpose), with the general feeling that it’s for the best because I am such a pain in the ass, which all creates this twisted feedback loop of feeling unworthy and becoming more convinced that they wouldn’t want to hang out with me anyway because of this unworthiness. All exacerbated by the fact that I really can’t blame people for pulling away, to be fair. After all, everyone has their own drama and you have to take care of you first, right?

Except then there is a strength in me because I have been through all this, I have lived with it, and I am still here, I made it through. Others see that strength and want it to protect them. And I love them and I want to belong so most of the time I don’t mind lending my strength to others, because it feels good and it makes me feel great and strong and worthy. … Until the times when I need my strength for me again but I find it all used up.

Then there’s the rage. The anger that comes with depression, believe it or not, and from the deep dark places inside that don’t care about being fair. Things weren’t fair for me, why do I have to be fair for others? The part that just wants someone to make it better, or at least to have a thing of its very own that understands, and accepts, and loves. … And then not let go because that part is a jealous, possessive bastard.

The higher, nobler characters, they are me too of course. Scarred survivors in love with genius and scared, confused youngsters struggling to adapt to a changing world. Flirty, sparkly dorks and honest, devoted innocents. But those characters are never as much of me as the messed up, lonely hearts, and they never seem to speak to people as much either. People admire them, lust after them, love them, but it’s the jerks and the crazies that makes them read me. I never understood that either, at least not as much as I am starting to now. I am blind to obvious things, what can I say?

(Note: While that post kind of went, er, darker and more insightful than I’d intended, I really did mean it in a 'I feel you guys' kind of way. And then it didn’t do that at all. Writer fail! Though I suppose it works out well that I never realize I’m writing me until it’s all over. Stops the self-consciousness. Something.)
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