Update on the Jenny Trout/Excessica thingo

I know I put pieces together and vaguely implied in my last post exactly what Jenny Trout is correcting here. So I feel it’s important to pass the message along, to the tiny little audience that might be bothering to read here.


Disappointed and Grateful

Brought to you by the Jenny Trout/Anne Rice/racist-slave-BDSM-hotmess-story/Excessica shitpot.


At first I was bemused. Sure, there’s always drama somewhere. But haven’t we yet clued in and moved beyond the belief that any one writer and/or reviewer can have the power to “destroy” another writer’s career? I mean, never mind that people are going to read whatever the fuck they want to read, and make their own decisions. I guess if you’re not an all-powerful super-blogger, you’re just a brainwashed sheep that does whatever you’re told. And not that it matters, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person who agreed that the original story that triggered this mess was pretty fucked up and racist, but I personally wasn’t willing to go so far as to contact retailers and demand its removal.

I also scratched my head at the thought that blogging a request/suggestion, no matter how scathing, to write to retailers and express opinions about their product, and/or “voting with your dollars,” somehow wasn’t a freedom of speech just as valid as any other. After all, we didn’t scream to protect Chick Fil-A from censorship, punishing those who spoke against them and encouraged others to boycott them for their marriage equality opposition.

The whole thing just seemed – odd. Odd, and a little ridiculous.

But, then it came to light. This isn’t really about censorship at all, is it? It’s about mean girls and cliques, and wanting to punish those who step out of line, give them a taste of their own medicine, whatever.

And that’s disappointing.

If that one slave story was actually removed from retailers due to people reporting it for racist content (and I honestly don’t know, as I wasn’t following that closely), that’s just… NOT the end of a career. At least, not any career that had a hope of being successful in the first place. Hell, if anything, I’d bet a cup of coffee and a pastry that all this hoo-hah has probably given that author more attention than they’d ever had, resulting in a spike of sales. But I could be wrong.

The turnabout, blackballing the blogger-author author Jenny Trout from the Bad Boys Next Door anthology, served no purpose other than powerplay and reindeer games. And while it ultimately affected 11 other authors, I am hopeful that it’s Excessica (and their queen writer) that will suffer for it. Probably not, but in the spirit of my utter disgust, I can hope. Those authors who voluntarily pulled their stories from the anthology? I’ll happily go buy their stuff from other publishers. And I’m going to round out my Jenny Trout / Abigail Barnette library, now.

The Gratitude part of this post is again: I am really so grateful to be a nobody. This has served as a warning against certain social media voices. It has reminded and encouraged me to just focus even more on story-writing, and to avoid e-publishers like Excessica and Ellora’s Cave like the bloody plague, both as a reader and an author. I’ll take obscurity over that shittiness, thanks.

As for Anne Rice, the cow who hates fanfic but makes money writing Jesus fanfic herself, who lauds STGRB yet sends her ‘minions’ to do the exact same? Well, that’s really all you can say about her, isn’t it? Pretty much sums up her whole hypocrisy right there. My tinhat is piqued that it was really Rice’s fans that pushed this thing to its current position, though.

But this is all just, like, my opinion, man.


Blogging vs. Online Journaling

If anyone who actually reads this hasn’t noticed already, I’m pretty lousy at blogging. Which is both surprising and unsurprising to me. It’s surprising because I was always pretty prolific back in ye ol’ days of Live Journal. Unsurprising because, well, blogging isn’t really journaling. At least, successful blogging isn’t. The way I see it, that is.

I struggle with blogging much the same way I always dragged my feet when it came to essay assignments in school. If it’s not something that really sparks an interest to me personally, I don’t really want to do it.

That’s normal, though.

There’s plenty out there that interests me that I could blog about. But the other kicker is that I’m this weird combination of strongly-opinionated and extremely non-confrontational. Also, I don’t like saying or doing anything unless I know I am “right.” Ferguson? Oh hell yes I have opinions and thoughts. Feminism? Absolutely. Anti-vaccers? Yup. The evils of organized religion, including Christianity? Pretty sure my blood pressure is increasing, here.

But my opinions and feelings are the kind of strong that’s raw and sloppy. And trying to structure all that into something that is coherent and “right,” and on a regular, blog-schedule kind of basis? Fuck that. I embrace the fail where that’s concerned.

So I guess what you’re getting at this point is an occasional (jesus fucking christ I can NEVER SPELL THAT WORD RIGHT THE FIRST TIME), random journal post.

I’ve been having a spell of weird and highly entertaining dreams lately. A few nights ago I dreamed I saw an advertisement for “Genghis Khan On Ice,” a musical icecapades-esque spectacular. The costumes were gorgeous, but the performers were singing this upbeat, very rhythmic song in complete jibberish. Someone make this happen.

I also dreamed that I was explaining the difference between most Time Travel stories and the one I’m currently working on. This is more relevant as an actual topic than just, “hey! weird dream no one cares about!”

It just seems that, especially in the romance genre, time travel is used almost exclusively to drop a current-day hero or heroine into a completely different era, or vice versa. And hey, I’m not complaining – some of my favorites follow that trope. But I don’t often see time travel played with in the sense of actively changing a timeline, and the consequences of that. I also don’t see shorter distances traveled in TT. The time traveled is always very far removed from the main character’s origin-time. I guess that might be easier to write, less potential for tangles and troubles. But why play it safe? Let me know if you have read some unconventional time travels, and recommend me some books, if you’re out there. I did enjoy No Proper Lady by Isabel Cooper. It had a badass heroine, magic, science, and consequences, but it was still a huge time jump. (I really do recommend it, though!)

Today I’m boiling a can of condensed milk, as a second attempt at making dulce de leche. The first one tasted a bit cheesy, maybe because it was an old can, or maybe because I boiled it for too long. Or, maybe because I might not actually love dulce de leche. I’m also going to attempt homemade marshmallows some time soon. And maybe macarons, even though I’ve never even tasted them. Also, jambalaya in the crock pot. I gotta get over my fear of cooking shrimp.

People, waffle-makers are for waffles. I’ve tried all the damned hacks, and you know what I got? Sure, I got waffle-cinnabons, but I also got a HUGE FUCKING MESS that I frankly don’t have time to clean out of my waffle iron. That said, I’m toying with the idea of making waffle croissants. Because I don’t care about going to IHOP.

My Draggy Weekend Flim Flam

I was busy yesterday doing piano work, so I didn’t get the Friday mish-mash up. Because I’M NOT THAT UP TO DATE ON SHIT AND I DON’T HAVE MY BLOG POSTS PRE-MADE OKAY.

Now I’m really groggy and slow this Saturday, because I was tired after work yesterday and cold, and wound up snuggling in my bed with my dog and cats and napped late in the evening. Then I felt guilty for being so inactive so I exercised at 11 at night, and further ruined my already tenuous sleep pattern. Also, I got started reading The Arrangement by Mary Balogh, so I think I finally drifted to sleep around 5 in the morning.


Here’s a really, REALLY sexy video of dessert. You should probably just check out the whole Carte Noir YouTube playlist. 

Also, a star just got swallowed by a space-time warp. Space-time fabric weirds me out. In a good way. But still. Fucking magnets, man. How do they work. That’s how I feel about space. It’s magical and too goddamned vast for my brain to grasp. And I love it.

I’m currently doing some studying on writing, and might start regurgitating the advice and information I’m picking up here. If I do, it’d be more for myself than anything, as a place to put the pertinent notes I’ve marked in various books and blogs. So it wouldn’t be at all comprehensive, would likely seem lopsided as what I’m bookmarking is stuff that will hopefully help my own weaknesses. But, yeah.

Man, I’m dopey today.