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I wish I was invisible.

I am invisible.

 

I catch myself staring into space like it’s something in front of me that I can catch. I wish I could describe how I feel in words that wrap around your body and plunge into your core. That way you wouldn’t ask me how I was doing. You would just know.

 

You would just know that I am surrounded in oxygen and still cannot breathe.

You would just know that I turn into a zombie and think about things such as taking off onto the open road and leaving no trace behind.

You would just know that I am in a self induced pain deeper than any knife could ever scar me.

 

Maybe then you would see that there is more to me than words on a page. You could then look past my grammar and see the frustration that mounds everytime I stutter or stumble. See the way that I wince everytime I stand or sit because my bones are weakened from carrying my insatiable need for more.  Perhaps then you would see my voice for the morse code that lies beneath.

 

When I say, “I miss you,” it means I need you.

When I say, “I can’t wait to see you,” it means I’m searching for anything to stop me from crying.

When I say, “I love you,” it means I’m drowning and I can’t get through this alone.

 

©2018 All Rights Reserved

I’m scared. Cancel scared, I’m terrified.

 

This is the first time in my life that I have written for me. Not for a class, or to impress someone, or to make a point. The creation of my first novel Tempting Indiscretions is the one thing that is 100% by me, for me.

 

Sure, I’ve been testing the waters. I just released my first ever E-published novella via Kindle and although I’m super excited and happy with the results of my online rendezvous with publishing, I feel myself lacking. The more I talk to other writers the more I long to have a publishing house backing my book. I know this seems silly to have such mixed feelings about traditional publishing, but a part of me wants to be able to stand up to any other writer and say that I am legit.

 

As mentioned in my first post, I have never sent my manuscripts to a publisher. I own the official copyrights to my work and I’ve spent hundreds of man-hours revising and editing my baby but I feel now is the time to release it out into the world. Out into the mass void of bibliophiles and romance junkies (like me).

 

My question to you is, should I?

 

Should I try to have my first novel traditionally published? … Or should I be happy with e-Publishing and ride this adventure out?

I have no idea where to start looking for publishing houses…. help?

Any thoughts would be great.

-L.R. Rutherford

My October Recommendations:

Film: Halloween, 2018 – John Carpenter 1978 classic horror film is back and better than ever. Original cast member Jamie Lee Curtis is starring in this continuation of everyone’s fright night favorite.  

Television: If you haven’t seen “The Haunting of Hill House” you are missing out. Best short horror series of 2018 by far!

Currently Reading: Beware the Night by Ralph Sarchie

This novel, although backdated to the late 90’s / early 00’s was suggested to me by a friend and I’m really enjoying the read. I like ghost stories and this book is packed with stories about possession and evil spirits. Fun fact: this novel was adapted into a movie released in 2014 titled Deliver Us From Evil.

This is an entry I have submitted for a writing contest with a 300 Word Max.

For more details, visit Kelly Griffiths

Jane was known for stealing money from the men she went on blind dates with. That was her favorite pastime and one that she became increasingly excellent at as time had progressed.

The dusk of Halloween night fell on her doorstep as she walked the three blocks to the restaurant where she met her prey. Tonight’s victim, she met on social media, requested that they come in costume to celebrate the night of the dead. Something about the man’s request halted her from replying to his message. It wasn’t until she noticed the watch on his wrist in his profile picture, was a Rolex and ignited her lust for more monetary value.
She spotted him right away.
He was in corpse paint sitting in a two-seater booth, the only man in a costume.
“Hello,” He greeted.
He was handsome, even with the thick paint covering his face.
There conversation was easy, he was polite, gentle even. He stuck to one beer and didn’t look past her to the television screen while she was talking.
After dinner, they shared a chocolate shake and she fought her impulse to pick his pockets. He was different, she thought. She waited for him to ask her on another date but found him unwilling to pick up the hints.
“Would you like to see me for a second time?” she asked.
For the first time in a long time, she was blushing with hopes of a future.
He turned to her and smiled, “This is the second time I’ve seen you.”
She laughed, “No it isn’t.”
He laughed and goosebumps splintered her arms as fangs grew inside his mouth, “You stole from me on our first date, and now I will steal your soul.”

©L. R. Rutherford

All Rights Reserved.

Ever since I started to read for fun I have always been drawn to romance novels. Sure, I also read fiction, mystery, YA, and even Sci-fi but my favorite part of those books has always been the love story written as a subplot.

Will the vampire fall in love with the human? Did Julia ever love Winston in 1984? Did Hans fall for Leia first or did she fall for him?

No matter what I read I couldn’t get enough of the secret romance, the forbidden love, or the love lost because of an outside force stopping it. My heart swooned for the unrequited love and the sacrifice someone gives for their loved one’s safety or happiness. I could imagine me in these plots, saying the dialog lines as if it were a movie in my head and I was cast as the lead. However, the more romances I read the more the casting began to change.

The more self-aware I became, the harder it was to digest the words on the page. It seemed like every romantic heroine was “lithe” or “delicately framed”. She was the girl that no one noticed before him, or the character turned into CEO’s sex doll after putting on a little lipstick and changing their clothes.

Please, don’t think for one second that I still don’t love those stories, because I do. It just isn’t my truth. It isn’t what I see represented for me and my friends around me. I’m not lithe or small or delicate. I feel insecure but I don’t need a man to validate me and I sure as hell won’t put up with a man’s stalking me when I want out of the relationship. Sometimes I want the fantasy to be a little more representative of the woman I see around me that aren’t perfect, that isn’t the size of a Victoria Secret model.

Someone asked me if I wrote my character Kayla in Divorce XL to be plus sized because I was plus size. I wanted to tell them to kiss my ass and give them the one-finger salute, but the more I thought about it the more it was true. Kayla is plus sized because I’m plus size but that doesn’t mean that she represents me in the novel. That would be as vapid as assuming that every romance writer writes themselves as the female heroine. Absurd.

Are there areas of the story that I write from personal experience? Um… yeah. That’s part of what makes the story so intriguing while reading.

Does Kayla represent me as a complete person? No. She is a part of my imagination.

Am I ashamed that she is plus size? Hell NO. There is nothing wrong with writing a romance where the girl isn’t a size 0. Big girls need love too, and there are plenty of real-life love stories where the man isn’t into stick figures. #nobodyshame

If you have any book recommendations for me to read I would love to hear from you!
Thanks for reading!
L. R. Rutherford

I’m a writer.

I can officially say this now because my work is published. Self-published, but published. It took so long for me to get up the courage to share my work that I didn’t even bother sending it to a publisher. I knew that if I didn’t finally take the plunge I would another girl with a manuscript collecting dust on the shelf while they secretly fantasize about having a different life. So, I did it. After years of writing, editing, and revising to the point of insanity I finished my book (Due out November 1st of 2018!).

How do I feel? Scared shitless.

I thought doing it on my own would be less stressful. And perhaps my inner control freak is in bliss knowing that my success is only up to me, but the rest of me, the logical side of me, is freaking out.

I feel as if I have come out of some romance writing closet to all of my friends and family. I never took any stalk in preparing myself for the amount of work it would take to build a presence online on multiple platforms. Instagram, Goodreads, Facebook, Amazon, the list continues to grow. And now, I have a blog. Out of all of them, this is the one I’m the most excited about and I can not wait to share my journey with all of you!

So here it is, my first post. My first step into documenting this crazy path I have taken. I hope you laugh with me, and challenge me, and cheer me on. I want you to call me out on my bullshit and tell me what I could do better on. I want to be the best writer I can be.

 

Thanks for reading!

L. R. Rutherford

Xoxo