Guest Post: V.L. Locey

 Allow me to introduce the absolutely splendid V.L. Locey. She was first brought to my attention by my editor, Elizabeth L. Brooks, who was talking about our submissions (mine and V.L.'s) for He Loves me For My Brainsss. She (Liz) was having trouble organizing the collection because my story, W.O.L. was a very serious take on the zombie apocalypse and V.L.'s... well, wasn't.

Two Men Walk into an Apocalypse is probably the funniest zombie romance story I've ever read. Should it worry me that there are several stories in that particular genre? No. It should worry you if you haven't read them all! Good stuff!

Anyway, I've gotten to know V.L. a bit since He Loves Me came out, and it's been really wonderful. She writes a lovely series of semi-mythological stories, Of Gods & Goats, and Heroes & Haybales. I cannot tell you how much I love these stories!


What are your greatest challenges in your writing career? 


Finding enough time to get all the ideas into something that resembles a book or novella, that`s the challenge for me. I have several story ideas in files waiting patiently (or impatiently is more accurate) for me to find time to get to them and write them.

When did you find out that you wanted to be a writer? What inspired you to put pen to paper? 

I really only discovered this passion about six years ago. I had always had stories bouncing around inside my head but never thought I could put them down on paper, and then ask people to read them. But hey, it seems that I can and folks rather enjoy my silly romantic tales. Who knew?

Of your published works, do you have a favorite? Why? 

Boy that is tough. If I had to choose I would say it`s a tie between three: 1-My Gods & Goats trilogy because it incorporates so many of my loves and is so much a part of me and my life. 2-My Two Guys Walk Into An Apocalypse Zom-Rom-Com books because I adore Paul and Gordon and am thrilled to be able to present two gay men as ass kicking zombie killers. 3-My novel Love of the Hunter which is coming out October 2, 2013 from Torquere Press` Prizm line. Hunter is a powerful tale about the eternally young and beautiful Greek god Apollo, and the how he falls in love with a famed archer. It`s a story that was searching for the right home and it found one at Torquere Press.

Do you ever want to go back and edit an older story? 

Sure! There are a few old ones in my files that I think could be made into something spiffy, but, it`s that darn time constraint issue that keeps the old stories dusty. There`s this one about a sexy female space pirate . . .

How do you decide on character names? 

The characters pick them. I keep suggesting names until he/she finds the one that suits him/her.

Tell me about your first publication. Who was it with? How did you feel when you got that acceptance?

My first contract was with Torquere Press. I had self-published a book before being accepted into a little zombie anthology titled He Loves Me for My Brainsss that our lovely host is familiar with. My reaction was to break into a dance around my kitchen while my family gave me high fives.

What projects are you currently working on? Are you willing to share a small excerpt from a work in progress?

At the moment I`m working on a M/M romantic comedy called Early to Rise that I hope to submit when it`s all polished up. I would love to share an excerpt! It will be quite short since I just started this novella today, but you should get a nice taste of what spurs Simon to leave Philly and move to his uncle`s farm where he meets Gentry who may just be what he needs to get over his broken heart.

The apartment Richard and I shared was on the fourth floor, apartment 4 D to be precise. I was not overly shocked to find the door unlocked. Knowing who was inside I braced myself and stepped into our homey little one bedroom flat. Sambuca came strolling up to me, weaving between my legs and leaving black hair on my rental. I was stunned and reached down to scoop the feline up robotically. I pushed the door closed and walked over to peek into one of several boxes stacked in our living room. It held all of Richard`s sci-fi books. Something happened to my throat looking at his beloved books. I found it hard to swallow. Then I looked up to see the man I had thought was going to marry me standing in the doorway of our bedroom, his arms loaded with his clothes. 

“Now I see why you missed our wedding,” I ground out, hugging my black cat close to my chest, “You were busy packing to move out.”

Richard stood frozen in the doorway, his dress shirts and ties dangling over his arms. “I should have told you about my misgivings earlier,” he said, his brown eyes darting to the boxes cluttering our neat living space. 

“You think?!”

Richard finally got his feet moving. I placed Sambuca on the sofa, not giving any fucks if Richard liked her on the furniture or not. He dropped his clothes into a box then nervously folded the flaps closed. I tossed my black tie at his head. That brought his sinful brown eyes to my face.

“Thanks for looking at me. What`s his name?” I asked bluntly. 

“There is no other man,” he told me. I snorted so loudly my sinuses vibrated. Richard`s long face grew tight at the derisive sound. “Believe what you want, but I`m not leaving you for another man, I`m leaving because I`m slowly suffocating, Simon.”

What's your writing routine?

I get up early, do farm chores and get the teenager on the school bus (no small feat as anyone with teens knows) then I grab a fresh cup of coffee and dive into my WIP.

Tell us something domestic; favorite recipe, all about your kids, pets, flowers, or weird arts-crafts things you do.

Hmm, well, we raise dairy goats and domestic poultry such as chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys. My daughter is seventeen, pretty as a picture and smart as whip who plans to go to college and study creative writing. (Don`t know where she gets that from.) I`ve been married to the same man for close to 22 years and I love, love, love Marvel comics and movies.

(Can I just say it's awesome to know someone else who has farm experience? I grew up on a farm with my grandparents in northern New York... chickens, pigs, cows, sheeps... sheeps are dumb. DUMB. I like goats, tho.)

Tell us three things about you that are interesting.

I have a Wolverine tattoo on my left bicep that I`m rather proud of.  Yes, Wolverine from the comic books. I consider myself to be one hell of an angler, and I make the best stuffed cabbage this side of the ridge.


You can find me at Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and here at my blog-

Two Guys Walk into an Apocalypse 2: It Came from Birmingham is scheduled to release on May 22, 2013 from Torquere Press.

I dunno about you, but I'm looking forward to reading Two Guys II... I admit to some severe jealousy that our editor, Liz, has already seen it....  But it's out, so GO BUY IT!

Guest Post, Elizabeth L. Brooks

What are your biggest pet peeves for other people's grammar? Are there any mistakes that you find yourself making regularly?

The one that makes me want to get up and leave the room when I hear it is a contraction I've only really heard in the last few years, in which people leave "to be" out of verb clauses. For instance: "The
dishes need washed," instead of "the dishes need to be washed." It actually gives me the shudders. If the extra two words are really that much extra effort, you can get away with the gerund: "The dishes need
washing."

My own besetting grammatical sin is commas. I'm terrible with them. I leave them out when they should be there, or put them in where they're superfluous. Even knowing that I do this doesn't help; I'll second-guess myself, and then end up getting it wrong on the few occasions I would've gotten it right to start with.

Do you ever want to go back and edit an older story?

GOD, yes, all the time. I try not to even look at older stories sometimes, because I know I'm going to find things that need to be
fixed, and not be allowed to do so, and it's painful.


How much of your life and the people you know end up in your work?

I think it's impossible to avoid injecting some amount of one's own
experience into writing. Even when I'm trying to imagine something
completely new to me -- the telepathic connection that occurs in the
"One Mind" books, for instance, or the experience of shape-changing in "What You Are" -- I'm pulling on my experiences of things I've done or read or felt that might be similar, to enable me to describe what I can only imagine.

That said, I do try to avoid being too obvious about it. I'll extract
a particular feeling, or a gesture, or (rarely) a few particularly well-chosen words. I try to avoid doing more than that, because I wouldn't want my friends or romantic partners (past or present) to recognize themselves in a scene I've written and wonder: is that really how I acted? does that mean the other character in the scene
represents her? is this really how she saw that event? is this how she sees our relationship?

I do have to admit one exception: Jesse Summers, from "Assumption of Desire", is in fact based on a real person, an adorable twink that I met at a GLBT Pride event. He helped me and some other editor/authors
break down our tents and tables and schlepp everything back to our cars at the end of the event, and in payment, I offered to write him into my next story. I make no claims that the character Jesse's
personality is anything like the real Jesse's, but physically, he's an exact copy.

Is there a character or story that's stuck in your head and won't leave, from either your work or someone else's?

Oh, yes. Dawn moved into my head some eleven years ago (his initial appearance was almost *exactly* eleven years ago, actually), and he hasn't left since, despite going through several incarnations in the meantime. I thought publishing "Safe Harbor" would exorcise him, but it's only made him dig in deeper.

What projects are you currently working on? Are you willing to share a small excerpt from a work in progress?

My most promising project, at the moment, is the one I'm working on
with you, actually. For your readers who may not have been paying
attention: we're each writing a short-short (1000 words or less,
usually) each week, generally in response to some generously donated
prompt words.  I post excerpts fairly regularly on my blog, but here's one just for you and your readers:

What was taking him so long?

Finally, she heard his tread on the stairs. “Babe?”

“Second thoughts, already?” He wasn't even in the room yet, but she could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I just want to know what you have in mind.”

He appeared, sat next to her on the bed. He combed his fingers through her hair, spreading it out around her. “You remember your words?”

“Of course.” She'd chosen them herself, and he'd repeated them four times, as he'd fastened each of the restraints at her wrists and ankles.

He stroked her face, traced the line of her throat, outlined her collarbones. “Are you using them?”

She hesitated. His fingers felt good on her skin... “No. I just want to know.”

He smiled, kissed her lightly. “Then no.”

As a note: Elizabeth is running a contest to win an adorable tentacled minor god of your very own. Go to her blog and leave a comment, or her Facebook page and tell her what color octopus you want.

This one is mine. You can't have it!

Snippet

Seriously, I have a problem.

I've mentioned, I'm sure, that Elizabeth L. Brooks (the fabulous editor of He Loves me for my Brainsss!) and I are working on a collection of short-short stories.

When we originally discussed the idea, we were thinking of maybe 40 stories in the sub 1,000 word length.

(You, over there in the third row? I hear you laughing. Shut up. Seriously. Shut it.)

Thus far, I've written nine stories for the project.

They are:

After the Party - 1,016
Two Tents* - 933
Mouse Games* - 1,355
Away Games - 370
Home Inspection - 1,064
On the Job Training - 1,679
Dinner Service* - 811
Steal Not a Moment - 1,466
Surrender - 1,108

The stories with * asterisks next to them mean that the story isn't really complete. At least with Two Tents, I've got another two parts of similar length to go before I consider the story complete. Dinner Service has another two parts, Drink Service and Kitchen Service, ditto on them being the same length. Ish. I really want to steal Home Inspection, write another 1,500 words or so, and submit it for a collection. Also, Surrender isn't quite done yet either. I dunno about that one, I think I need to go back and fix some of it.

Even though I've managed to cut down my writer's bloat a bit (did I mention that my first novel, which is currently in content edits) was over 190,000 words as a first draft? My second novel, which is currently being read/reviewed for publication, is only 80,000... ) I'm still fighting a LOT with the short-short.

That being said, I really like some of these stories a lot, and I think the exercise is good for me. I might not be the short-short queen or anything, but at least in the process of working on this collection, I will get better. And that's all anyone can ask, right?

Here's a sample from On the Job Training...

“I'm Noel,” she said. 

A thousand puns and jokes leapt immediately to mind, and he bit down on all of them. It was unlikely that he could make a fresh one, and no one ever appreciated those sorts of things anyway. “It's a pleasure to meet you.” That was safe enough.

Noel raised an eyebrow. “Very good. I admire your restraint. You said, earlier... it was 'mostly.' Now, adorable as my shoes are, I have to say that if you're after a cheap one-night stand, please go elsewhere. You seem interesting enough, and I'm certainly not adverse, but I have strict requirements, and I'd rather you not waste your money if you're not qualified for the position.”

“Lucid's not cheap,” Danny chipped in from over his shoulder. “So it would be an expensive one night stand.”

“Not helping me here, bro,” Chandler muttered.

Noel laughed. It wasn't a titter, a giggle, or one of those fake chortles that he was used to hearing from women in bars. It was an absolutely delighted guffaw, full on belly-laugh that shook her whole body in delightful ways and was infectious. He couldn't help answering it. He blushed, embarrassed, felt more embarrassed, having blushed, and still couldn't help laughing. 

“Oh, that was wonderful,” she said, blotting carefully at the corners of her eyes with a napkin, leaving small red smudges behind. “What do you think, Danny? Is he worthy?”

Oh, god. He finished the rest of his beer.

“He drinks good beer,” Danny said, “even when his friends aren't here, so he actually likes it. He's not just showing off his hefty paycheck or his fancy palate. He plays darts a few times a month. In fact, I was expecting his crew in tonight. Responsible, too. I've never had to take his keys. And he remembers to tip.”

Chandler stared at the bartender. Really? He'd noticed that much? Suddenly Chandler felt about eight years old, being scolded for forgetting to write a thank you note, or for licking the butter knife, or any of the dozens of faux pas he'd committed in front of his grandmother. He felt the urge, however briefly, to just say never mind, pay for his beer and leave. 

If he did that, though, it was doubtful he'd ever be back. Not after having such a personal witness. Oh, well. He took a deep breath, met her cool, curious gaze. If he was going down, it'd be spectacular, and in flames.

He Loves me...

So, you can get your e-copy of He Loves me for My Brainsss from Torquere...

Thought I'd give you a little sample today...

“Wish you didn’t have to go,” Avesy said, drawing a teasing line down his chest, finger tracing along the waistband of his trousers. Korin forced a half-smile, heart aching.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about it,” Korin answered. He snatched at the teasing hand, jerked Avesy’s arm down, placed his palm firmly against Korin’s straining erection, ground his hips against his lover’s fingers. He groaned at the touch, then roughly pushed his lover onto his back. Korin tore the buttons free in his eagerness to get his pants off, much too eager, he was going to cream his pants right there if he didn’t get what he wanted, what he needed. There was nothing but hot desire in Avesy’s eyes and Korin let himself sink into those eyes, sink in and drown there, not looking away.

He’d tasted Avesy’s lips a hundred times and more, but tonight, this one night, was sweeter and more bitter than any flavor he could ever imagine. The last time, the very last. And even having memorized every line of his face, every soft nuzzle of his mouth, Korin was startled all over again at how intoxicating those sweet kisses were. How full and lush his mouth was, how heavy his breath, and how Korin’s entire body turned to fire with the simple touch. Like wine. 

Well, I had to move my work hours around immediately, since I discovered that on those days I need to take the husband to work, I don't get back to the house until almost 8:30. So... guess I'll start at 9am. No worries.

I did do some writing on the 1st, even though technically I was still on vacation. I decided to work on my story for a Valentine's Anthology. I was specifically asked to submit, if I could, and I admit that that's flattering.

I'm running a Shadowrun paper and dice game at the moment, and cyberpunk (and cyber sex!) are on my mind recently. What would it be like, to be able to jack into your partner's head, feel what they're feeling? Sometimes it could be really amazing, and sometimes, not so much. I'm exploring that, with the help of two characters, Adria Benn-Parker, a character who's been hanging about in my head for a while and needed something to do, and a new fellow who just showed up recently, Cyberius Jann. We'll see how that goes. It's a pretty tight deadline, so we'll see if I can get something put together by mid-month.

Hey, my first ultra-short story is due to my partner on the 9th (that's going to be the established pattern for the time being, we'll exchange our shorts on Wednesday...) So, I could use some prompts, please. One noun, one verb, one adjective, and two random words of your choice. Please, help a writer out, here?