My alarm goes off at some ungodly hour (for an author who stays up way too late sometimes) and I’m groaning because I forgot to reset it to something normal. It was set to that because for the past 2 days I’ve had to drag my ass out of bed and go see an ENT (ear, nose, & throat specialist) a half an hour away. Wednesday was an allergy test, 35 scratches & 35 SHOTS in my upper arm, which still doesn’t feel so great 2 days later. Thursday was a CAT scan and consultation with my doctor to go over the results. Why am I seeing an ENT? Because I choke on my own mucus most mornings, it’s really attractive. I breathe out of my mouth, drinking & eating is a pain because, well, if I’m using my mouth, I can’t breathe out of it. What did he find? My nose is so screwed up it will take major reconstructive surgery to be fixed but doesn’t have many answers for me still. Lots of maybe’s, which are always fun. So we’re starting with a nasal spray steroid to see if that can give me any relief and take the swelling down before we do more tests so they can see what’s going on in there better before we talk more options. Either way, my nose has to be fixed though… Fun times.
Why am I sharing all this gross, very personal information when I normally don’t? To remind people that I am a PERSON. I’m not a robot, I’m not just a name, I’m not just a random screen name. I’ll get to why I’m reminding people of that in a minute…
So after being off my allergy meds and feeling like all around ass and having my shoulder treated like someone put it through a meat tenderizer, I took yesterday off. My ma’s in town for over a week now, just to help me from the time I got lost switching interns and to get ready for RT, and we finally went to go have some fun. We went to Manitou Springs and we hung out, checked out the cute shops, and spent way to much money getting presents. Then we came home and hung out, mostly because I still felt like crap and couldn’t breathe.
But I was out of contact most of the day and I have problems disconnecting because I always feel like I should be there to answer questions, handle everything in a timely manner, etc. When my alarm went off I saw my phone blinking that I had messages, emails actually, I grab my broken phone, (new one supposedly coming in today), and read the to see if anyone’s waiting on me for anything. And I get some "review" that makes my blood pressure go up.
Happy fucking Friday to me, right? I should just let this go, a bigger person might, but well, sometimes things just piss me off to the point where I can’t. So I’ll either spend the day internalizing and being grumpy, or I’m going to get this out and go back to bed for a few hours. I went with the later for a few reason.
Look, I’ve never said I write the great American novel. I write erotic romance novellas, and while I love what I do and I’m proud of my work, I don’t ever think they’re going to reshape the way the world feels about something. I’m a realist like that. My books’ whole point is to distract people from the real world, a few hours from the stress of their lives, and get sucked into a fun, sometimes hot, story and let the rest of it fade away.
Someone loves it and you smiled at the end? Awesome, mission accomplished.
Someone enjoyed it but would have changed a few things, maybe would have liked some things explained or found a few things lacking? Hey, still good, because they enjoyed it and everyone’s different, likes different things.
Someone didn’t like it? Well, again, everyone likes different things, thanks for trying my books, all the best finding an author you fit better with. Or maybe they’ll like another series or book better.
Someone hates it? Sorry, I’m not the author to distract you from your stress, have a nice life and best of luck finding a better fit.
That’s kinda my process on dealing with comments. Now, keep in mind, I’ve never posted, reviewed, or ever contacted an author and told them what I thought of their books. I have a few times on FB to tell my friends who are authors when I really love something, but other than that, I keep my opinions on books to myself. Because, well, I was raised that opinions are like assholes, and like not everyone wants to see my ass… people don’t care what I think.
I saw something on a friend’s FB page which accurately depicts my feelings about “reviews” like this.
You’re not deep
You’re not an intellectual
You’re not an artist
You’re not a critic
You’re not a poet
YOU JUST HAVE INTERNET ACCESS
So yeah, I normally just ignore it and roll my eyes because I was raised that unless I could do better, you keep your fucking mouth shut and have respect for the person for trying or having the balls to do what they do. Honestly, it’s words I live by.
However COMMA (yep, had to spell out that comma because it’s important here), this brings up another vital issue for me… Manners. I’m all about free speech, talk away, but WORDS HAVE CONSEQUENCES and hiding behind a screen name won’t save you. If someone said that to me in a bar, if they ducked the punch I’d take, I would do two things next: Call the police for harassment and my attorney for defamation of character. That’s what pissed me off so bad and why I’m up before my normal alarm and writing this blog. The woman accused me of taking DRUGS… Publically. The first thing that went through my mind is Are you insane? Who does that?!
For the record, the only drugs I take are legal and prescribed, over the counter, or vitamins. Alcohol on occasion, but I’m of age and it’s legal. But my point is I don’t think the Internet was created so people lose their manners and falsely accuse people of doing illegal things. You hate the book… easy solution. STOP READING WHAT I WRITE!! Why on god’s earth does she keep reading my books? Do you keep sticking your hand on a hot stove and wondering why you get burned too? You don’t like my stuff, fine, move on. Don’t bitch me out, accuse me of doing drugs and rethink my career.
Sure random screen name… you’ve made me see the light and I won’t ever write another book. Riiiiiggghhhhht. Do people think that I’ll honestly say that? And were my parents the only ones who still teach their children manners? (Except the people I know that have manners, of course). My mother would kick my ass all over my house if I ever pulled this crap. I told her about an email from an actual fan demanding why my release wasn’t on her birthday, then one wanting to know when a list of books will be coming out. She looked at me and said, “Don’t you dare reply to that. There’s no please or thank you in those emails. If they can’t say please or thank you then they can’t expect your time to reply when you barely have any time.”
Go mom! I’m right there with her. Manners matter. I am a person. I can take people not liking my books, yes, I have feelings, but well, I can take it. But accusing me of drugs? Yeah, not so much. I’m not changing careers or how I write my books because of one crazy person who makes arrest worthy statements. You got something else to say to me? Email me, we’ll talk, especially about accusing me for drugs. Hell, I’d love to meet you. I’ll eat you for breakfast and you’ll find out I can really be the bitch lots accuse me of. This doesn’t fly where I’m from and if you want to find out firsthand how someone from Chicago handles threats and accusations, seriously, contact me without hiding behind your screen name. It will be fun… for me.
And on that note, thanks to all the sane people reading this and who email me. I love you all. I’m going back to bed for an hour or so, get up, shower, get some writing done in the next Midnight Matings book I’m working one before Aiden, my new intern, gets here and I impart some of my wisdom and experience on him. Have a good weekend everyone!
-Joyee
