Here’s the thing about the Morning Shots… well and the Evening ones as well… while they’re great to look at, it becomes increasingly difficult to find copyright free material and nice photos to actually discuss. Because honestly, I do choose the shots based on artistic merit. And I never share any personal selfie shots.

But the time has come when I am going to have to stop posting links to the photos. I know I’m going to lose a lot of you here. And for that I am sorry. I will be replacing the shots with more content because damn it, I have to add content and the Facebook page will remain in place. But the blog, I think has to have a shift to a new direction.

I have enough photo links for a few days. But I wanted to talk to all of you about it first. Not just kill it off and leave you cold turkey. I’ll probably be posting a photo every once in a while if I am certain of its origin.

A while back I asked you all what you wanted to see on the blog. You answered and I think I can deliver. If you want to join the Facebook group, please let me know. I probably will be removing the content from the blog after the last official shot.

I’ll be on a plane in a couple of days and then traveling to the outskirts of Bristol but let’s discuss this. I hope you all are okay with replacing photos with blog content. And I’m interested in your opinions.

My Old Man Dog Jax passed away today while I was driving up to Palm Springs. My sister found him in my bed, snuggled up into my pillows. He’d passed in his sleep which is exactly how I’d want him to go on. He was comfortable and happy. I’d spent an hour with him this morning before I headed up scritching him and he’d had a really good day.

He was quite old. And he’d been a rescue who’d had a horrible life before he moved in with us. After that, it was all cookies, sweaters when it was cold and memory foam mattresses to sleep on. And sunbeams. Food whenever he wanted it and all the clean water he could have. As well as a few beef bones now and then. He had dog brothers to play with and a couple of cats he could roomba into since he’d gone blind. Personally I think he was faking it more than a few times just so he could bump into the cats.

I’m okay. Everyone’s fine. When I’d left him he’d been snoring, in a sunbeam and happy. He had that life for more than fifteen years. And he was a good dog.

The funny thing about being an author in the M/M romance arena you read the oddest things in the genre’s reviews. One of them is: I can tell this was written by a woman…

Now I’ll have to admit, I’ve always found this offensive and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Mostly because I didn’t toss a lot of brain at it but upon reflection and a bit of discussion with other people, I think I’ve narrowed down why it’s offensive.

It’s kind of like the schoolyard taunt of “You throw like a girl.”

See, it’s a double edged sword. One, that being female means you have less ability and two, that you should thus be ashamed of being female because you are so much less.

Now, I’ve never considered myself an activist but apparently there’s a piece of me that is rather offended by the whole “I should be ashamed I have a vagina” thing. Well, that and apparently it does my writing. I’m not even sure how that works and to be honest, if it’s doing the writing, perhaps it can continue to do so in the middle of the night without my help because really, does it need to sleep?

Rather absurd image, isn’t it?

I’m not sure why this phrase is supposed to be offensive and more importantly, what defines “writing like a woman”?

I could spend time condemning people who say this. I could but honestly, I’m not sure I care that much. Do I write like a woman? I write as a woman but I write as a writer. Not with my gender but with my experiences and my brain. I am not less because of my gender. I am not less of a writer because I write in a style someone might or might not care for. I will not be made to feel ashamed because I don’t have exterior genitalia any more than I would ask someone to be ashamed because he doesn’t have interior bits.

Connecting my writing ability to a dick or vagina won’t change how I write or what I write because the person I am is who does the writing.

So yeah, I write like a girl.

And I’m going to own that shit because that single fact doesn’t define me—any more than my sexual orientation, cultural identity or my love of coffee.

Okay, the coffee probably defines me but hey, I’ll own that shit too.

From TJ:

If we wouldn’t tolerate this happening to an adult, why do we expect a child to just “suck it up”?

Wow. Huh. Wonder how this really bad movie turned out. Wonder if it influenced us all in any way. Or if we’re all dumber for it.

I’ve actually been kicking around a lot of stuff in my head. So of course in the prime arrogance and ego of my Self, I feel the pretentious need to share it with all of you—like I should be giving anyone advice. I can barely remember to set up my coffee maker before I go to bed but here I am slinging out thoughts like it’s two for one mashed potatoe night at the soup kitchen.

So bear with me.

As some of you know, I separate out the whole writing thing into two functions…two hats really; the Writer and the Author. The Writer is pretty easy going, stewing in his or her own juices and flings words onto a page, hoping for the best. I fret writing. I worry if the story makes sense. I worry if the characters are just cardboard.

The Author however worries about if the book will be received and then commits probably every fucking one of the Seven Sins.

I’m going to talk about a few.

Envy
This is probably the most grievous sin an Author commits. I know I do. It kind of goes hand in hand with Wrath but mostly it’s Envy. It’s not that we start off hating other author’s success, it’s just that we wonder why not my book? Especially when the book in question isn’t all that good—in our opinion.

Rationally, the Author knows it’s an apples and kiwi comparison but still, it infuriates the mind. Have I been guilty of this sin? Hell yes. And the thing is, the more you write and isolate yourself in the stew of this Envy, it kind of begins to take you over.

It’s one thing to fret and grouse about another book but quite another thing to start sifting through other authors’ ratings to cackle about them or track how their book is doing on whatever chart you want to follow be it Amazon, Goodreads or the Daily Sheep Plucker.

If you catch yourself doing this, go back to being a Writer for a bit. I’m not saying don’t mutter to your close friends because being sinful is healthy *grins* but ah, don’t air this sin out in public. Remember the difference between public and private face.

Pride
Yes, be proud of your work but then at the same time, acknowledge the Writer next to you has just as much right to be wearing that “writer” vest as any of us. Unlike Castle, our Writer vests aren’t bullet proof. Don’t turn your pride into a weapon. We are only as good as our next book. Writing is a cruel thing. It is. What we think is an incredible idea might turn out to be the worst book received by the audience… ever.

I’m not saying don’t try. Explore doing new things. Expand your boundaries. But at the same time, leave room for someone else to have a happy. Don’t take away from someone else’s happy. Dance with them. Celebrate. Because we’re kind of all in this together.

Basically, when you dance, don’t step on anyone’s toes… not on purpose.

Sloth
You all know you do this. I do this. Look, something sparkling and pretty! I don’t want to write. Set the time if you need to. Do at least an hour. Get in the habit. Not a nun’s habit… actually no, I take that back. If wearing a nun’s habit helps you write, rock the fuck out of that penguin suit.

Wrath
This one really goes out to orgies with Envy. It really does. This Sin makes the author do stupid things like rage at one-star reviews or attack a reviewer in a public forum. This is also the Sin that rears its ugly head to drive the Author insane because it actually turns Envy into a destructive weapon. Wrath is pretty much Envy’s power up.

Even if you feel your Wrath is justified, I have one small bit of advice.

Don’t.

Just… don’t.

Nothing good ever comes of it. Sure, it might satisfy some anger-masturbatory need inside of you but like all things, Wrath can become an addiction and pretty soon, you’re pissing in everyone’s mouth and jerking off on any person who might have said something mildly off in your general direction.

NOTHING good every comes of this. Nothing good for your soul. It just makes you a puissant bully and really, stains who you are. You’re better than this. It’s hard sometimes. I get it. I wanna fork a bitch with the rest of you but put the utensil down. And walk away.

Don’t Be A Dick
None of this is to say you can’t grouse with your friends but like all things, moderation. As human beings, we get caught up into patterns of behavior, especially if it gives us some kind of opiate response. Pretty soon bad behaviour becomes your personality and really, no one wants to be an asshole.

Well, okay some people like being one but they’re kind of the poster child of fuckery.

Do your best. Be your best. Either as an Author or a Writer. You’ll be okay. Don’t get discouraged.

The effort is as much if not more important than the result. Don’t forget to be the Writer you want to be. Don’t pick up stones to carry to weigh yourself down. Write and then, when you put on the Author mask, be gracious. Even when your fingers want to curl around a fork.

I need to work on it too. I do.