Okay– I was about to start working on my story tonight– at the moment, my WIP is called Shiny! with the punctuation mark, and I’m having very much fun with it, and the story behind it– well, fun. That’s all. Fun and light, and for those of you who enjoy my angsty stuff, I will tell you that this is all Elizabeth’s fault and leave it like that.
But one of the fun things about Shiny! is that it has, well, sex in it. Not a gratuitous amount, but what’s in there is really fun, and that is one of the things that Triane’s Son Rising does NOT have.
I’m sure some of you are like, “Well, that’s not a very good way to sell a book!” but I just wanted to remind folks– this is a YOUNG ADULT geared epic fantasy romance. I remember when I was working on this one and teaching, and my department head– who was one of the biggest vainglorious prickweenies EVER, said, “So, Lane, whatcha writing about? More fantasy unicorns with rainbows shooting out their ass?”
I said, “Actually, no, this one’s about social iniquity, forced alienation, and genocide.”
He thought that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard of. Yeah. Asshat. I know. I had to work with him. Anyway, it turns out, those topics are just dandy for Young Adult classified literature, and so is sex. So for that matter is gay sex. As it turns out, the ONLY thing needed for the classification of Young Adult literature is that the protagonists have to be young adults. Since there’s a new category for emerging adults, this means that Litha’s Constant Whim, Truth in the Dark, The Talker Stories, The Locker Room, Vulnerable, and, yes, The Bitter Moon Saga can ALL fit under the classification of Young Adult literature. (I hope the fuckers at my old DO read this and choke on their own humiliating vomit. No, I’m not a martyr– I do have a highly developed sense of vengeance, why do you ask?)
So, oddly enough, I am feeling a little embarrassed about the sexual content of this book.
The, uhm, negative sexual content of this last book.
I mean, sex is mentioned, and it’s discussed– no, not in graphic detail, in terms if emotional impact–and yes, our boy is attracted to both men and women, and he’s got to deal with that. (It’s not rough. They’re both pretty. He’s interested. And that’s how the first book ends.)
Anyway– so, I thought I’d need to remind everybody– this book has no sex in it. Not really. And as for what it DOES have in it? We’ll chat about that later!
In the meantime, I have these random pictures that I should clarify. I simply used letters, in order, so don’t get confused! And something was up with blogger– the spacing here was NOT MY CHOICE… it sort of backed me into a corner and smacked me around a little. It was late. I let the pictures sit where they felt like they needed to be.
A. I think this poster is the best reason in the world for commas. Ever. Use commas. Don’t be a psycho. It’s that easy.
B. Chicken is making octopi these days. I like this one– it was made specifically for Mary Calmes. It’s sweet and sort of smart looking and pink.
C. Yarn porn. It’s from a place called Holiday Yarns– I found them online. It’s gorgeous. But I’m giving some of it away to peoples, as yarn. Cause it’s gorgeous, and I have plenty, and I think it makes a nice present, as so many of you have taught me.
D. Squish and Zoomboy, chatting at a restaurant. Because, you know, you haven’t seen enough of them growing lately.
E. Darth Vader came to Squish’s soccer game and supervised the royal asswhupping they administered. My husband kept all our best players back and only played them three quarters (since the actual coach had taken off) and our poor Squishy. She needs to be on a team that is not made up of superstars, since she is more of a social player. I was on a basketball team like this in middle school. Nothing makes you feel more like a loser than being the worst player on a good team. God. Of all the things I could have passed on to my kids, I wish complete hopelessness in any sort of sport was not one of them.
F. This is Steve the Cat, who is determined none but she should sit in the good seat. Tough, Steve, Mom’s got shit to do.
G. I promise you all a picture of Chicken. Her birthday is Tuesday. She is, as you all probably guessed, still heartbreakingly beautiful. My heart, anyway.