Friday, 18 October 2013

So, In Conclusion

Hi, I’m Bronwyn Heeley. I have a series come out in the near future.

It’s a Paranormal Romance of the m/m genre. It’s about the love between the men rather than the plot line. Each book follows the love life of a different characters. It’s in third party, and though it should probably be read in order, I’m hoping (but not sure yet) that each book can be individually read.

The werewolves in my series are what I see as the 1980 version, the ‘Hollywood’ version where they are man like wolves, who eat what they can when the moon is full. I’m hoping that they aren’t particularly violent, and aren’t heavy in any nature.
They are quick reads of love that you can read when you have a few hours to spear.
They aren’t about racism or homophobia, or anything but love, and lust and sex.

I originally started this series as a way for me to learn how to write a story, but more so, as a channel for the stories that I have read by others, stories that annoyed me for one reason or any other. Not because of anything written, but because they sparked something in me and intrigued me, and made me wonder if I could do that. If I had them, would I have been like that. and mostly, why did he just bottom, yeah, he’s not really into that, but the guy he loves, and wants to fuck is scared, or scared in that area, and rather than being frustrated at not having sex because he’d shit screamed of being reamed, why don’t you bend over and take one for the team.

Okay, only one book that I have read made that come up, but it was a big point.

My men aren’t businessmen. They aren’t high on the totem pole, they aren’t rich, they aren’t anything but down to earth (I’m hoping) Aussies who fall in love as much as everyone else.
They are about the road worker we pass every day. They are about the mowers who landscape our gardens. The men who are looked over because they are just being paid or they annoy us by making traffic when it’s inconvenient for us.
They are real, everyday men.

And mostly, they are men that I can write about because it’s not that they are stupid, but that I’m not smart enough, nor is my writing mature enough to pull of power, money—education.
But, hell, there’s a lot of that out there, I read it nearly every day, so why not write about the people we pass on the street. Or that give us out meals. Or pick up out garbage.

I’m don’t conceder myself a full time writer, mostly because, for a some reason (because I haven’t said it out loud enough) I can seem to see myself as one.
But I’m a stay at home mum, and so I write when the kids are a school. and sometimes, if the idea is kicking at my fingers to hard, when they get home.

And obviously, I’ve only been contracted by eXtasybooks, and I’m glad I picked them, but more so happy that they accepted me.
And even though I’m shit scared about what’s to come. I’m also bubbling with excitement at the next stage and the next, until I get myself some feedback.

My next step, though, is getting into a writing group, because it should have been the first thing I did, but I’m scared of having to initiate interaction with them. And more so, participate, because that’s talking to people on a level that I don’t feel smart enough to pull off.
And yeah, I know its bullshit, but my brain is fucked and it likes to kill confidence and since I’m not, well, it’s easily winner.

So, that’s it, I think.
If there’s anything you’d like to tell me. Advice? A place I should look at for groups? Anything that will help me out, even just a little, I’d love to hear it. I’m new and I would like to be able to do this for the rest of my life, but if I sit here, in my own personal space, I know it might never happen.

Till next time.

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