I’M ALIVE, BUT PLEASE…. PUNCH ME!
So… the verdict is in. YWIW is maybe, actually, probably… no bueno? Or about at a meh standpoint?
What a fureaking tragic-fail-mess-egg shell in omelet… disaster.
I think somewhere in the middle of the book people stopped reading or got bored, which sucks because I was going for funny, girl power-y feel good type of a story. Obviously…. didn’t work. (My eyes are twitching right now)
By the way i haven’t been on a holiday break for over a month, I’ve been writing and scrapping, writing and deleting, writing and obsessing, writing and screaming in anger because it all seems horrible and not good enough. Last book’s progress was a major hit… to the stomach, almost knocked me out cold leaving me in this numb stupor where nothing made sense anymore and everything I began to write seemed-seems like absolute garbage. I’ve got miles of files with work that screams of repeat ratings and reviews and reception of YWIW, and for that reason, it’ll never see the light of day. I’ve got folders and folders of XB stuff, but it’s not good enough. Same kind of language, same sort of sentences, similar scenes… what’s the point of reading book four if everything is so similar? There needs to be a reason for book 4, it needs to make sense.
I’ve got to figure this all out!
Welcome to the world of writing, where your mind literally swirls in a tornado of confusion. I guess that’s why those other writers try and get agents and stuff. Those guys know things. I’ve never queried an agency for representation. I don’t think I would, at least not right now. Despite me wanting to strangle myself for being a let-er downer/ un-promiser/failure story giver/stupid moron-dumb idiot with too much time on her hands….. I like following my own rules (WEIRDO GIRL) and I’d hate someone telling me what to do and when to hand in my work. Like I’m in school again… by the way… hated school…maybe that’s why I failed a lot??? JK… only failed grade ten and twelve math and grade eleven bio. :-P
Here’s some XB that might see the light of day….
Monique knocked twice and opened the door. “Coffee, Mr. Barns?”
I creeped silently up ahead, choosing to hide behind the safety of the open doorway of an unoccupied office.
“Thank you, sir.” Monique answered, using a door wedge to clear the way for her cart while her unassuming prey in Italian business attire sat on their fat wallets, performing behind glass walls.
The boardroom was visible.
Reality stalled, transforming the hallway and Monique into lucid moments straight up from a dream. Maybe it was the crazy in me, or the lack of sleep, my heart bumped like a drum, slow and steady, all that shit. Ms. Coffee Cart swayed her hips like a caterpillar on the prowl, moving that cart like something was for sale and giving me stripper vibes.
Clearly about that life.
About that hustle.
Creeping in silence.
Hiding behind the excuse of a coffee cart while she searched for a payday…. a la compliments of her jungle from down under.
Lions, Tigers and Pubes oh my!
Liam faced the glass wall. His hands were clenched in bone tight fists, restrained against the glass table, probably making marks. The spawn of hotel greatness seemed angry, possessed in fury, like a kid denied his favourite toy. Those blue eyes spoke, and considering I’d seen them angry, beyond furious almost, this expression was different. It screamed annoyed. But God he was beautiful.
“William, angry again?” a voice I’d recognize anywhere.
Back in the firing line, my legs and arms got goose bumpy. The painful pricks were a reminder, like a punch in the face…. Normal was finito.
Back down the fucking rabbit hole….
Light scattered through uneven blinds, and the devil, wearing a navy suit solitary in its exuberance, sat facing its brother. Oozing superiority, it stayed free of light, leaving those touched, enraged. So many things about life were unfair, here right now, was no different. And despite heavy bank accounts and an endless supply of anything man could ever want, there were some things money and power couldn’t buy.
Deep blue eyes, like rivers of Lethe (Web searched the word last week), leaving lines of victims who failed to realize beauty had nothing to do with heaven, and everything to do with…. HELL.
God… I should have been a poet.
Monique smelt the odour of evil and cared fuck all about surviving.
Ambition ruled… her fate was sealed.
Blinded by her vagina and a desire to shop freely with a black Amex…. What a fucking moron.
MAYBE… SOMETHING LIKE THAT…
YOU’RE WHAT I WANT, Y.A Series Book 4 is live on Amazon
It’s live on ibooks now!
It’s live on Kobo and GooglePlay right now!
Who would like to read a bit of the prologue for…….Don’t Stop Holding Me?
I’m putting it up here anyways….so deal with it! :-)
It’s from James’ perspective….for the first time EVER!
Copyright© 2015 Sarah Tork
Wednesday August 1st 2012
The floorboards rumbled like a mini earthquake and there was no doubt in my mind that Big Chief was awake and heading straight for my/not room.
He pounded against the door. “You don’t open this door, I’ll open it anyways. This is my house, you understand, boy?”
The door opened before my feet touched hardwood. Jim Lawson came barging inside, stopping in front of my/not bed with a nasty but usual scowl on his wrinkled forty-four year old face.
“Seventeen years old, and this is the kind of shit you’re trying to pull. Boy, when I tell you to open the door, open the god damn fucking door.” he hissed like he was trying to hold himself back from doing something CPS would have been called for.
I got in his face, leaning down a little since I was an inch taller. “The only thing I see is a grown ass man barging into his oldest son’s room, acting like a prick for no god damn reason.”
“Keep the fucking volume down, this is my house, my family doesn’t need to hear you mouth off to me.” Dad started to breath heavy, bull status.
This was fun. I smirked in his face. First feeling of happiness I’d felt in awhile.
“Well Jimmy boy, the floor is yours, what brings the head of the Lawson Brigade 2.0 into my little room. Oh sorry, it’s not my room. Your house, your room, this is all your shit. Come in and out as you please, but just out of courtesy maybe you’d like to knock next time and wait for me to answer as I sleep naked sometimes and well, you get it don’t you.” I smirked again in his face as he snarled in disgust, shaking his head.
“Smart ass, that mother of yours has spoiled your ass, turning you into a bitch that talks back to his father. You’re a piece of shit, James.” Dad finished saying his piece and stormed out the room, leaving me frozen, heart pounding up to my ears, pulse about to burst and all that shit.
Something like that….hoped you liked it!!
I’m going to have like a million books out at the same time, so like, I don’t know….please check em out…okay BYE!
Ohhh and I’m feeling hungry right now!
I started writing Always Wanted in early 2012 and initially it was intended to be a straight forward romance, but things changed after I put the manuscript aside for a few months to work on YA. I know weird, YA and XB Series, who the fuck is this author. She wants to write Young Adult and Romance….crazy F’d up romance by the way.
Now if I had to classify ‘Always Wanted’ in an official category it would be in Comedy, black comedy. It’s not supposed to be funny, but it is, whether you wanted to laugh or not…and I bet you did. Sure some parts are gross for the average vanilla ‘virgin’ eyed reader, but personally I’ve read worse and have laughed even at that. I would never classify Xander Barns under the same category as Prince Charming. NO WAY! But that doesn’t mean Xander isn’t a nice guy, he’s just a little bit kooky.
Okay a lot, but still. What you see is what you get with him.
Okay that was a lie too!
He’s a shady, sketchy fuck who takes pleasure in making the people around him squirm…and I kind of love that about him.
Here’s another bit of info, the original title for ‘Always Wanted’ was ‘4Scoops’, and I don’t know why I chose that title originally either.
January 2013, I was sitting on the couch with my fiancé, I was working on the manuscript and he was watching a movie. I put my headphones on and worked on the scene where Xander surprised Marisa at the Inn and I was about to take it ‘there’ where they’d do the deed and fall for one another and yadaayadaaaa yadaaaa……sex, love, problems….life…happy ending…
But then something hit me, I didn’t want to the story to be ‘FSOG’ ish. I was like, what the fuck could I do to make things a little more interesting.
I don’t know how I came up with the underwear thing, all I know is as I typed it in I spent the next fifteen minutes laughing quietly to myself. I told my fiancé what I had done and he was in shock. But he knows me, and I’m a bit crazy anyways, so the shock wore off quickly and he laughed too.
I can understand if you were really into the story at that point and expected things to turn out a certain way that you’d be angry.
Hell, after the book was released for a couple of weeks, it was like I set off an angry mob.
Romance Novel Rule 101, you never EVER fuck with the reader, not when they’re into the story and they’re expecting things to turn….sizzling. NOT WEIRD!
Which is exactly what I did. Sometimes I don’t know why I did it either…sometimes…not all the time.
FUCK this WRITER! HoW dARe she….she fucked with our ROMANCE!!!! We wanted the hot billionaire guy and the poor beautiful cashier girl who came from a shitty family. He was supposed to come in and save her from her shit….well he did…sort of.
The fun way!
But even though he did save her, he was still creepy and for most people it was a turn off. Maybe he’s not supposed to be her charming rugged knight or her gorgeous shining prince.
Or maybe he is.
Even though Xander Barns is a creepy perverted menace who has a tiny underwear fetish….I think he’s funny, and charming in his own weird….really weird way.
Sometimes we’re all a little bit weird……CERTIFIED WEIRD!
And proud of it!
Okay that’s it for now.
Next I’ll explain some things about…Ms. Kensington….and her ‘words’….by the way when I wrote ‘I need you to lose today’, I read it out loud to my fiancé and when I looked up he was in shock.
I bet he was thinking…. “Am I really going to marry this girl?”
Me: “You bet you are!”