Guest Tara Lain – What I Learned about Writing from Jet by fictionwithfriction

I am so happy to have been invited to blog here at Fiction With Friction. When Jet asked me I don’t imagine she figured I was going to embarrass her but I’m never too old to be a fan girl. I originally posted this blog a little over a year ago on Jet’s site.  I had just had my first novel published and I emailed Jet and asked if I could guest on her blog (she doesn’t do that much) because she was the person who most made me want to become a writer. It’s now 9 books later and her influence is still as true as it was then. So I want to reprise What I Learned About Writing Erotic Romance from Jet with some updating:

For years, people told me I should write a book, but I couldn’t imagine what I wanted to write about. Then I started reading Jet Mykles, and less than three years later, I’m a published author with six published novels and the seventh, Fire Balls, released this week from Etopia Press and four new books coming. Reading Jet’s books was better than all the fiction-writing classes (although I did those too), because through Jet I discovered my passion for passion. For the first time, I found something so fun and exciting it would write itself (hmmm. Not quite that easy but certainly a lot of FUN). Jet can now put “muse” on her resume.

Here’s what Jet taught me:

It’s impossible for heroes to be too beautiful – Don’t tell me my heroes Roan Black in The Scientist and the Supermodel or Hunter Fallon in Fire Balls couldn’t exist in real life. Erotic romance fiction isn’t real life. The likes of Johnny in Heaven and Shasertai in Sursein Judgement are compelling to me and lots of other readers.

Characters benefit from being a little (or a lot) over the top – Many writers concentrate on “real people”, but I find I best remember the ones that stand out from the crowd. Have you ever met anyone quite like Jet’s Hell? My artist hero in Fire Balls is flamboyant and wild and a black belt in karate. My kind of guy.

It is possible to write great conflict without unspeakable angst – When conflict gets too intense in books, I often feel like closing the cover and walking away. (I avoid the Russian authors and love Jane Austen) Jet makes her readers wonder how the characters will ever get out of their mess – while being totally confident that it will happen.

Relationships between people are diverse, wondrous and mysterious — Jet’s books avoid labels and categories. She has straight men falling in love with other men, gay men falling in love with women, all with a minimum of chest-pounding. Is this real life? Who cares? It’s great fiction. I’ve tried to carry on some of this tradition in my books too.

Once your characters grab a hold of you, they don’t let go – Jet’s book are almost always part of series. I never intended it, but I’ve published seven books as of now and five of them are part of series. My next book, Spell Cat, I hope to make part of a paranormal series, the third book in the Balls to the Wall series will be coming in the summer and my newest WIP, a MM contemporary fantasy, could also become a series. Jet just has to tell me how to find time to write them all!

The bottom line is — thank you, Jet. You have always been generous with your help, and, above all, a huge inspiration to many writers like me. I’ve learned great lessons from your fiction and, hopefully, have put it to work in my books. Oh yes, I forgot to mention. We both love Adam Lambert.

Would you like to win a copy of Fire Balls? Enter my contest. I’m having a drawing this coming Friday. Leave a comment here with your email and you’ll be entered in that drawing. Go over to my Contest Bloghttp://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com and leave another comment with your email and you will be entered Again. And there are more chances to Win. Go to my Web Site http://www.taralain.com and look under events. It’s all there.  First leave your comment here. And don’t forget your email.  And thank you to Jet and Fiction With Friction for hosting me and to you for coming to say hi.  :)

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Excerpt from Fire Balls by Tara Lain  — MM Contemporary

Available at Etopia Press Amazon

Rodney Mansfield is tiny, flamboyant and, oh yeah, a black belt in karate. He is also one of southern California’s greatest artists. Too bad the work of art he really wants is firefighter, Hunter Fallon. But the gorgeous “straight gay” guy could never want the Runtback of Notre Dame, so when Rodney’s handsome, surfer friend, Jerry, develops an unexpected passion for the beautiful firefighter, Rodney breaks his own heart by helping Jerry land his man. And then Rod makes it worse by embarrassing Hunter when he protects him from a firehouse bully. Hunter hates gay guys like Rodney – doesn’t he? Then why can’t he get the powerful pipsqueak’s face out of his mind… and cock out of his ass? And why does he risk his job and his life to rescue Rod from a burning building? Isn’t it time for him to admit he’s not an alpha male after all and that he is the property of the artist?

“So what the hell is a poet doing in the fire department?”

“There’s a lot of poetry in fire.”

“Sure, darling, if you’re staring at a fireplace with a glass of wine!”

Hunter laughed, which seemed to drain a little of the tension. “I became a firefighter for my dad. Kind of living his dream because he wasn’t able to. He’s confined to a wheelchair.”

Interesting. “That’s great for him, but what’s your dream?”

“Making him happy, I guess. Not disappointing him.”

The boy was cracked. Rod put his hands on his hips. “Shit, darling, you can’t live someone else’s dream.”

The words hung in the air.

“I’ve got to try.” Hunter’s words were barely audible.

Rodney dropped his brush in the turp. Somebody had to get through to the man. He took a step forward. “Tell me what you would do if you didn’t have to think about anyone but yourself.”

Hunter shook his head slowly.

He took another step. “Tell me, dammit.”

The blue eyes looked startled. “I’d teach. I’d teach literature, maybe in college.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard.”

“Doesn’t change anything.”

“Like hell it doesn’t. Declaration is a big step in the battle. If you can say it out loud, you can manifest it.” He took another step. “Do you know what my father wanted me to be?”

“What?”

“A lawyer. A fucking lawyer, probably so I could keep the bastard out of jail when he cheated his customers. He wanted to pay for me to go to fucking Stanford Law.”

“Wow. You turned him down?”

“Do I look like a lawyer to you?” He struck his favorite pose à la Marilyn Monroe. “I worked my ass off to put myself through art school. I waited tables and painted pictures of people’s pets to make extra money. I even appeared in a drag show one time.”

“No shit?”

“You should hear me sing ‘Let Me Entertain You.’ But my point is, it’s your life and you have to live it. You probably don’t get another chance and even if you do, you won’t be conscious of it, so this is it, darling. Get on with it.”

“Yeah, but my dad is different.”

“I’m sure he is, and I’m happy for you.” He moved closer. “And you know what my father mostly wanted me to be?”

“What? I mean you’re a great artist, he must have seen that and wanted that.”

“No, you know what he wanted me to be so much he would have given every dime he had to make it so?”

Hunter shook his head, eyes wide.

“He wanted me to be not gay.”

Hunter stared. “My dad too.”

Shit. Rod was now at the platform’s edge. “So that’s it. You make up to your dad for being gay by putting on this damned hero fireman act when you want to read your books in the sunshine and teach a few kids about immortality. Right?”

Hunter shook his head.

“I said right?” Rod was beside Hunter now. Within reach. “Say I’m right.” He climbed up the platform’s step. “Your dad doesn’t want you to be gay, so you don’t want to be gay. But there’s not one fucking thing you can do about it so you compromise the whole rest of your life trying to make up for the way God made you. Say I’m right.”

Hunter dropped down onto one elbow. “You’re right.”

“Louder. I can’t hear you.”

“You’re right, dammit.”

His knee hit the daybed and in a fast two count his body pressed down onto Hunter’s, his hands grabbing the other man’s head. Holy shit, what was he doing? Mouth to mouth got a whole new meaning. Jesus, he was starving and Hunter Fallon was the only food.

Forcing Hunter’s lips open, Rod’s tongue pressed deep, deeper, and he licked the inside of the sweetest mouth he had ever known. Hunter’s tense body gradually relaxed against Rod’s, then began to writhe. Oh shit, Hunter’s hips pressed hard against Rodney, who couldn’t miss the steel of that hot cock.

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E-mail: tara@taralain.com
Website: http://www.taralain.com
Author blog: http://taralain.blogspot.com
Book blog: http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com
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