Author
Harper Bliss is my second guest this month. Harper's latest hot erotic
novelette just came out this week and you can read an excerpt below!
Harper:
Guest post by Harper Bliss on As Years Go
By and silencing one’s inner critic
First of all, thank you for inviting me to
your blog, Emily! It was also great to share the pages of Forbidden Fruit
with you (and I do hope you’ll contribute to more Ladylit anthologies in the future, hint hint.)
;-)
I’m here today to talk about my latest
release As Years Go By, a deeply emotional and rather dirty standalone novelette. After finishing the
first season of my serial French Kissing and diving headfirst into a
novel straight afterwards, I really felt the need to mix things up a bit and
write a few shorter stories. As Years Go By was the first story I wrote
after finishing some longer projects, and it completely took me by surprise.
I’m the opposite of a plotter, so it
happens quite regularly that characters end up doing rather unexpected things,
but both Jodie and Leigh (the characters around whom it all revolves in As
Years Go By) have taken it to complete new levels in the surprise-me
department. I blame my writing process, which has changed significantly since I
first started.
I write in short bursts of twenty minutes
during which I ‘go there’. ‘Going there’ is the term I use these days to refer
to my state of consciousness when I start my clock (and my anti-social app) and
just start typing like a mad woman. Depending on which kind of day I’m having
(and how close I am to a deadline), I can produce from 400 to 700 words within
the space of twenty minutes. (Yes, like most writers I’m obsessed with word
count.) The key is to keep my fingers moving at all times (insert stupid
lesbian writer joke here.) I go fast, and I don’t allow myself to overthink or
(most importantly) censor anything. What comes out, comes out.
That’s how the things that happen in As
Years Go By came to find themselves on the (virtual) page. I had a back
story and a vague idea of what would happen going in, but a few of the actions
Leigh and Jodie embark on are definite firsts for me in my writing. And I think
it’s all down to effectively silencing my inner critic (because, basically,
that’s what writing against the clock does most of all.)
Leigh and Jodie were lovers before.
They’re exes reconnecting, trying to gauge if what drove them apart—despite
their love and desire for each other—years ago is still valid. And they have
everything but vanilla sex. ;-)
Here’s an excerpt:
She parks her golden Lexus in the
underground lot of the hotel and, when we get out, the sound our shoes make on
the concrete sparks another memory. We’d gone to a dinner party on the Upper
West Side and had by mistake—I believed—ended up in the building’s parking lot.
“Well, now that we’re here,” Leigh had
said, hiking up her eyebrows the way she does, before slamming me against the
wall and worming her hand into my pants under the harsh neon lights. The total
surprise of it, along with the possibility of someone walking in on us, and the
thrill of how she always so easily did what she did to me, had me trembling at
her fingertips within short minutes. A climax I’ve always remembered.
When we step into the elevator I
half-expect her to start kissing me there, but this is eleven years later, and
all the boundaries we once carefully set have vanished, and when I look at
myself in the shiny metal of the door, I see a different woman—outside and in.
Yet, I want her to. I want someone to do that to me again. To take away all the
things that always simmer somewhere in the back of my brain, to take away that
longing that’s been building in my gut for years. And I only want Leigh to do
it. She’s no means to an end. She’s my ex-partner. The only one who ever knew
me well enough to take me to the place I needed to go. Because the things I
want, you don’t just ask of someone. Or, at least, I guess you could, but it
would take away half the pleasure.
The elevator cabin is silent, apart from a
buzzing hum, and the sound of our breath, coming as regularly as always. Yet,
beneath my skin, my blood is sizzling. I start making up a list of all the
things this is not, but I realize quickly that I don’t need to. I don’t need to
overthink this, or think about it at all. That’s the whole point of inviting her
to my room.
The best part of this entire elevator
ride, which is about to come to an end, is that I get to experience both sides
of the thrill. I know Leigh and the familiarity between us reassures me; yet I
haven’t seen her in years and there’s the excitement of newness crashing
through my flesh as well. Do I still love her? I ask myself as we exit the
elevator and I guide her to my room in the furthest corner of the hallway. Do
I? If I do, it’s in a totally different way than before. The love that remains
after the hurt has been dealt with. A more sedated, stable kind of affection
based on memories and shared experiences and the life we once lived together
but, no matter what we do or how hard we try, we can never, ever get back.
As soon as we walk into my room, which is
swanky and large and boasts full-length windows on one side, Leigh starts
scanning her surroundings. The curtains will have to remain open, of that I’m
sure already, but she’s also looking for props. I wonder if I would be offended
if she unearthed some sort of toy from her bag, a flogger perhaps, or
handcuffs. If I would be able to forgive such presumptuousness. But not even
Leigh Sterling can rise to that level of audacity, and I remember what she used
to say to me. “You have no idea what you give me when you take the pain.” But I
did, and I still do.
And here’s the blurb:
At her son’s graduation ceremony, Jodie
unexpectedly runs into her ex-partner Leigh. Because of how painfully it ended
between them, Jodie is taken aback at first, but gradually allows Leigh to draw
her back in—just like she used to—and shock soon makes way for memories of the
intense desire they once shared.
And some links where you can buy "As Years Go By":
About Harper Bliss
Harper Bliss has travelled the world in
search of sexual satisfaction. She now resides in a hot Asian country and
dedicates her time to writing down the stories that have inspired and aroused
her.
Harper is the author of the High Rise
series, the French Kissing serial and several other lesbian erotic
romance titles. She is the co-founder of Ladylit, an independent press focusing
on lesbian erotica.
This sounds delicious, Harper!
ReplyDeleteI find your description of your process fascinating. I've tried to use Write or Die occasionally, when I get stuck, but I can't imagine using that as my primary method - though it does short circuit the critic to some extent.
So once you've done a burst, do you then edit it? Or do you wait and revise the whole thing at once?
Good luck with "As Years Go By"!
Well hello Lisabet! ;-) Thank you!
DeleteI don't edit in between bursts, but every morning before I start the day's writing session I do quickly read what I've written the day before (and correct obvious spelling mistakes). Once the story is complete, I start revising.
Harper