publisher: I've been looking into tumblr, have you thought of using Blaze to promote your book?
me: NO
publisher: But it seems like an efficient way to get this in front of more eyes-
me: people on tumblr hate Blaze.
publisher: There is no algorithm and you can't pay to promote a post? I don't understand how anyone advertises anything on tumblr.
me: That's the best part. They don't. They can't.
(trying to make him understand that we do not control the attention. We just have to show something shiny and gay enough and if people are interested, they'll reblog.)
(Mrs. Victoria buys a brothel, a deconstruction of the colonialist cowboy mythos dressed up as a sapphic romance.)
Yeah, that's the key: You can tell people about your book. You cannot *advertise* your book to them. You can politely ask people to signal boost to support an author writing queer books, or to recommend it to their friends. You *CANNOT* advertise to them.
It's kind of like the difference between a company with dozens of locations versus a farmer's market. Tumblr is the farmer's market. People here *do* want to buy things, but they often want to buy things in a way that directly supports the people who made them, and they want those products to align with their values and ethics, and they want the person behind the folding table to be a familiar face who is actually a genuine part of the community, not some slick outsider who doesn't give a shit about them.
If you're a romance reader in the USA, this Saturday, August 15 is Bookstore Romance Day
It's a day for indie bookstores to celebrate that oft-slagged moneymaker of a genre and treat readers of kissing books very nicely. You can find virtual and in-person events across the country. Many stores are giving away free gifts or having big sales.
I'll be in Portland OR and online for several events. Come hang if you're in the area!
stepped on a plum (overripe plum) (barefoot) it was on the driveway got out of the car and accidentally (didn't know it was there) stepped on the plum (warm) (on the ground) (it had fallen from the tree) barefoot (no shoes) wearing long pants (too long) (need to hem them) plum viscera got on them (the pants) unexpected plum on the driveway (hot plum) (97 degrees out) already super hungover (throwing up all morning) (should not have been driving at all) and I stepped out of the car (black car) (97 degrees out) and onto the plum (unexpected) (didn't know the plum was there) and it burst (plum nightmare on my only good pair of sweatpants) still we find ways to keep ourselves going from day to day
Franciszka Themerson (1907-1988), ''Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There'', 1946
"The illustrations of Through The Looking-Glass that appear in this book, finished in 1946, have remained unpublished since then [until Inky Parrot Press’ edition in 2001] to the disappointment of the author, who considered them to be one of her best works for children’s illustration.
Franciszka Themerson commissioned them for George G. Harrap. In 1946, Carroll’s work was about to enter the public domain and the proposals to republish Alice came one after the other. Although printing was concluded near the end of 1947, Harrap decided to postpone the publication due to the ‘difficult market situation’. Franciszka Themerson wished to anticipate correcting the prints to have them ready by the time the publication of the book was decided, but no one gave her any certainty that this would happen, and in the end the issue was left up in the air. When in 1969, twenty two years later, she wanted to recover her drawings with the intention of publishing them through another publishing house, she was told they were unable to locate them. After a year of complicated negotiations, her lawyers (Tarlo, Lyons & Aukin) managed to make them appear and be returned to her." (Source)
And more here.
The most interesting question you can ask about any character is not what do they want. it's what do they believe they deserve. because those two things are almost never the same and the gap between them is where your entire story lives. a person can want love completely and believe they don't deserve it and that belief will destroy every good thing that comes toward them in ways they won't even notice they're doing. write the gap. the gap is the character.
Will you please write nsfw and sfw headcanons for dating Eric Northman?
INTAKE FORM ── ERIC / HOW HE LOVES YOU .
you don’t really have soft mornings with eric.
he's usually awake before you, still as marble, watching you sleep with an intensity that should be unsettling and somehow isn't. when you stir he doesn't smile, just says "you talk in your sleep." like it's a secret he's been hoarding all day.
he doesn’t really flirt either, it’s more of him pointing out how much you like him, even if you’re fighting. leans back, arms crossed, head tilted. "you can stop pretending you don't want me to walk you home." he's not really asking.
he doesn't do small gestures. he does excessive ones, like a car left in your driveway, a debt quietly erased, a problem that simply stops being one. when you ask how, he just says "does it matter?" and changes the subject.
jealousy from eric is quiet and absolute. he doesn't storm over, he just appears without a sound, hand settling at the back of your neck, cool and proprietary. "you were saying?" he'll ask whoever was talking to you, and they usually stop talking.
he likes being the reason a room goes quiet when you walk in together. doesn't need to say anything. just lets his hand rest low on your back and watches people stare.
he's not soft often, but when he is, it's disorienting because you can feel how old the feeling is underneath it. he'll go still, thumb tracing your jaw, and say, "i have had a thousand years to be bored of everyone. i am not bored of you."
he brings you old things, not just expensive things, things that took centuries to find, because he wants you to understand the scale of what he's offering. "i've had that longer than your country has existed." he'll say like that's romantic. to him, it is.
kisses with eric start controlled and stop even faster. his hand fisting in your hair, tilting your head exactly where he wants it, a low sound against your mouth that isn't quite human. "you have no idea what you do to me." said like a confession he resents making.
he likes pressing his mouth to your pulse point almost more than your lips but, not to feed, just to feel it jump under him, one hand splayed over your ribs like he's counting your heartbeat as a kind of proof. quiet for once, like the sound is the only thing worth listening to.
when he's furious at everyone else, he's careful with you in a way that feels almost violent in its restraint. voice drops to something low and even. "not you. i would burn this world down before i let it touch you." and you believe him completely.
he likes testing you, seeing if you'll hold your ground against a thousand years of being obeyed, and he's genuinely delighted when you don't flinch. "there she is," he'll murmur, low and pleased, crowding you against the nearest surface, mouth at your throat while you push at his chest, still annoyed, and he just laughs against your skin.
physical affection from him is unhurried and absolute. an arm around your waist that doesn't move for hours, a hand curled around yours under a table like he's anchoring himself to something. he's ancient, and he still wants people to know exactly what you are to him.
he doesn't apologize so much as correct his course; no grovelling, but he'll show up, fix what he broke without being asked, and say, flatly, "i was wrong." like the words are foreign in his mouth. then he'll wait, watching you, deciding whether you're going to make this easy or not (and privately hoping you won't,) because he likes it better when you make him work for it.
eric is intense in bed, always in control, always pushing boundaries. he likes to pin you down with just one hand, his strength making you feel small and helpless beneath him. he fucks like he owns you, deep and slow at first, then hard and relentless when he wants to hear you beg.
he loves marking you. bites on your thighs, bruises on your hips, his handprints on your ass. he gets off on seeing the evidence of how thoroughly he’s claimed you. he’ll lick over the marks later, almost tender, but it’s still possessive.
he talks during sex, low and filthy. tells you how tight you feel, how good you taste, how he’s going to fill you until you’re dripping. he likes to make you repeat things back to him, makes you say you’re his while he’s buried inside you.
eric enjoys power play. he’ll tie your wrists with silk or leather, sometimes with his own belt. he likes when you struggle a little, likes the fight before you give in. once you submit he rewards you with his mouth between your legs until your legs shake and you can’t think straight.
he’s into blood play, but only if you’re willing. he’ll bite during orgasm, drink while you’re clenching around him, the sensation making him come harder. he always licks the wound clean afterward, almost reverent.
he likes to fuck you in front of mirrors so you can watch yourself getting ruined. he’ll hold your chin, make you look, make you see how desperate you get for him. sometimes he’ll make you touch yourself while he watches, giving orders in that low commanding voice.
he has stamina for days. he can go multiple rounds without stopping, flipping you into new positions each time. he likes when you’re limp and overstimulated, barely able to move, still taking everything he gives you.
he gets off on praise and degradation in equal measure. calls you his good girl while he’s fucking you stupid, then tells you what a needy slut you are for taking his cock so well. the mix makes you dizzy.
eric likes to come inside you, likes watching it leak out afterward. he’ll push it back in with his fingers, make you keep it there. sometimes he’ll make you wear a plug afterward so you stay full of him for hours.
he’s surprisingly attentive afterwards. he’ll clean you up, hold you close, and stroke your hair while you come down. the contrast between how rough he was and how gentle he becomes is jarring in the best way. he always makes sure you’re okay, always makes sure you know you’re his.
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