And today, I wrote …

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YESTERDAY, MY THIRD SHORT STORY, Pregator, went live on Amazon for .99. While most of my stories take place in kind of a paranormal world with a supernatural twist to it, this one is more based in reality. There’s an ending you didn’t see coming, or even if you did see it coming, you’re curious how it got to that point. Kind of like the Titanic, you knew it was going to sink when you watched the movie, but you wanted to see how they made it happen.

Did I look at my analytics to see how many sales Jeff Bezos made for me? No … no I did not. Why? Because I depress myself by looking at that shit like a jilted lover stalking his/her ex on Facebook to see who they’re dating. 

20 sales today … yay!

3 sales today? What? Serious? 

42 sales … fuck yeah bitches.

No sales today? What the fuck is Amazon doing with my advertising dollars? Corporate greed, that’s what it is!

While having those ridiculous thoughts, I get down and feel like shit. So I stopped a long time ago; years ago, in fact. I may look at them from time to time, but I’m not addicted to it as I once was. 

So what happened today? Well, I got up, made myself some coffee, argued with someone on Facebook (because they were wrong and I had to correct them … duh) and then checked back every few minutes to see if they’d responded. It only makes sense, right?

But after those 20 minutes of immature BS that is John Price, I did what I do most mornings. I pulled up a blank template, and began to write. 

I started another short story this morning. 

Because that’s what you do when you’re a writer.

You write.

You tell stories.

And you drink coffee … or tea, if you’re bougie. 

Photo Credit: Nong Vang @californong

The Value of a Good Copyeditor

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I BELIEVE THAT THIS IS one of those ‘goes without saying’ posts. The reason I’m rehashing it is because I’ve received several Facebook messages about copyediting – how do I find a good copyeditor?

When writing a book, I think your editor, namely, your copyeditor, is probably your best friend. Forget sales, forget marketing … your copyeditor will either make or break the quality of your book. For the record, I don’t have a copyeditor on this blog, so if the grammar sucks, that’s my fault. 

Understand that no copyeditor can fix shitty writing. If your writing is horrible and the story is shit, there’s nothing your copyeditor can do. After you finish your story, a good copyeditor will not only fix punctuation and spelling errors, but they will also catch continuity errors and the overall flow of the story. 

Your copyeditor is there to make your story successful and arguing with them about why something should be the way it is, negates their purpose. Once your story is finished, your copyeditor will read through it, make corrections, and give you feedback on it. To choose a copyeditor, you don’t want someone who is just good at editing. You want an editor who is into the type of stories that you write. It makes their job easier, and they can present you with invaluable feedback. 

If you scroll down to where I published my first book If Only For One Night, I shopped a copyeditor based on price. I was looking for the best deal I could get, and I paid dearly for it. Instead of her saying, “yeah, sorry bro, not into this shit,” she took on the project, and then insulted the work because of political/social issues that I didn’t tackle in the book. She was offended that one of the characters faced an assault and didn’t get help for it. She was more concerned about that, than the flow of the story.

I know it might not be the PC thing to say, but I don’t feel like you have to have a strong “anything” in your books, unless that’s what your focus is. What I mean by that is, I don’t feel like you have to have a strong female, or minority, or transperson, or anything to that effect to have a good story. Some of my stories have strong black men as leads, while others have strong lesbian women. Unless their sexuality/social status/race/ etc., plays a role in the development of the character, I tend to stay away from it. 

To avoid delving deeper into this, I will go into this later on with character development. Right now, my focus is on copyediting. 

Most likely, if this is your first book, you will make a massive mistake with a copyeditor. Personally, I think you should stay away from friends and family for a variety of reasons, but use your best judgment. My advice could be completely wrong.

The only reason I think you should use friends or family who have a background in editing/copyediting is if they are interested in your genre. Other than that, pay an editor. You also want someone who already has a proven track record. I get it, everyone has to start somewhere, but for me, I wouldn’t want to spend 6-12 months writing a book and have a newbie copyedit the book. But again, that’s just me – your book, your career. 

After you hire a copyeditor, do you pay per hour or per page or per word? That’s up to you to decide. Per hour seems … sketchy, but it is an accepted practice. 

You also don’t want an editor who works with a team, meaning, one person edits a few chapters and then another person edits a few more. ONE person should be editing your work. You want an editor that you can have a good relationship with. If you’re unsure, give them a few chapters to edit to see how it goes – for both the editing and overall communicating. If they’re not answering your emails/questions in a timely fashion you might want to move on. 

You want to make sure this is someone you can develop a positive and long-lasting relationship with. And finally, completely off the subject, copyeditor is spelled both with and without a space. Just thought you should know. 

For the record, the lady in the pic at the top is Danyel Lee, my copyeditor and she is DAMN good. She edits mainly in the supernatural/paranormal/thriller genre and can be reached @ lee.danyel22@gmail.com

A Golddigging Whore

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The first two pages from my next short story, ‘Pregator’ to be released on September 25. Click the link to preorder your copy.

TOYA LOOKED DOWN AT HER flat, brown stomach. There were no stretch marks, no blemishes, and the smooth, dark shadows where her belly contoured from defined abs was a beautiful sight. She lifted her breasts and watched as she ran her finger down past per belly button. Further, she continued until at last, she touched the trimmed pubes.

She spread her legs and let her fingers continue downward.

Whatever he is doing with his tongue is amazing, she thought, placing her hand on the back of his head, holding him there. 

Damn … right there.

Yes … that’s the spot.

Ooooh … fuck … that tongue of his.

Holy shit.

As Karl ran his tongue inside her, slowly flicking in and out, up and down, he moaned as well. It was almost as if he was getting off from going down on her as much as sh enjoyed receiving it. Holding his bald head there, she could feel the twitches begin to build inside. 

Damn … that bald head of his. A dark skinned man with a beard and bald head … double damn.

It was getting good, too. The sensations began to build up as he swirled his tongue around, flitting back and forth … sucking on her lips and clit. She dug her nails into his shoulders and he stopped. Karl lifted himself toward her and began to kiss her breasts, positioning himself between her legs.

Fuck.

It’s not that he was bad at sex, but he was definitely not the best.

As she attempted to mentally prepare herself for sex with him, she drifted off into fantasies of Martin.

Now that … that was a man who could fuck. 

Karl pushed himself inside and began to rock back and forth, but her mind was nowhere in this. Her mind was on Martin.

It was always on Martin.

Even now as she lay there with Karl’s baby inside her womb, her mind was on the past. The problem was, she hadn’t told Karl yet that he was going to be a daddy. They were still early in their relationship – barely six months. She’d quit taking the pill behind his back, and unfortunately for him, nature took its course. Besides, she’d just found out this morning.

She wanted to get pregnant.

A son. 

Toya wanted a son.

She always wanted a son for some reason.

Her biological clock was ticking, and if she and Karl didn’t work out, at least she’d be set financially. Her fantasy was to be with Martin, but Martin was not only ‘not’ the relationship type, but he was a piece of shit.

Nonetheless, she was still in love with him. She even had his birthday as the password to her phone.

But although she wasn’t in love with Karl, she knew he’d be a great father. Her only agony now was in how to break the news to him. As he pumped back and forth, sliding in and out of hr body, the only feeling greater than the sensation was the emotions she had for another man. It was fucked up, but it wasn’t something she could control. Everyone has that one person that stays in their heart, and for her, it was Martin.

Toya wasn’t in the mood for sex tonight. She tried her best to stay in character and moan, but her mind wasn’t in the right place. Unfortunately, Karl could sense it. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, slowing his thrusts to a complete stop.

Toya could feel him hard and erect inside her. He hadn’t come yet, but the throbbing and pulsing could be felt throughout her body.

“What do you mean babe?”

“You’re not here,” he said. 

He pulled himself out and slid over and beside her. Most men were not big on snuggling, but it was something Karl enjoyed. He pressed himself up against her and placed his hand over on her belly. 

“I can just feel it,” he continued. “Something you want to talk about?”

He was obviously disappointed; why wouldn’t he be? She’d just killed the mood.

“Just a lot of shit going on at work and they’re downsizing. I just feel like my job might be on the chopping block,” she lied.

Toya’s position at her job was pretty safe. She was the HR manager for a family-owned car dealership in Richmond, close to where the Staples Mill Road met West Broad Street. Broad Street, in both east and west directions, was the main road that cut through the city. Car dealerships were dotted throughout the city, but the largest, and most successful ones were on Broad Street. 

Toya made pretty decent money, but it wasn’t the best. Karl, as a lover, was the best option for her. At this moment, however, she didn’t feel comfortable breaking the news to him. 

Not now.

Not with his penis still staring back at her.

How she would tell him, she didn’t know. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I’m sorry babe. I wanted to see you tonight, but it’s just weighing on me.”

“No, it’s okay,” Karl said. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really. You don’t mind if I spend the night?” she asked.

Karl didn’t rally like her spending the night. It wasn’t that hat he didn’t trust her or had anything against it. It was that his ex-wife would sometimes drop their children off if she had an early morning appointment. 

Karl had been married for eight years, and upon his divorce, he had partial custody of his children. He and his ex were cordial with each other, and Toya rarely heard him say anything negative about her. However, he was veery protective of his children, even if he didn’t see them but a few times a month. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them – it was that his job forced him to work long hours.

As a trial lawyer who worked for a large corporation in the city, not only did Karl put in a ton of countless hours, but he was paid very, very well in his field of work.

Toya knew this, and she wanted to milk this gravy train as long as she could.

It was wrong. She knew this.

But getting pregnant by him would put her in a better position financially. She was an attractive and sexy woman, with a sweet pussy and tight body, and could easily be trapped regardless of his level of success.

Rich or poor, men were all the same. They were controlled by their desires and easily let down their guard in hopes of quick, and good sex. They would never admit that pussy controlled them, but these were the biological facts.

Men were so stupid. 

https://www.amazon.com/Pregator-John-Price-ebook/dp/B07X48JN2D/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=pregator&qid=1568115741&s=gateway&sr=8-2

 

A Dream Written Down …

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HAVE YOU EVER SAVED AN image on your phone or computer with every intention of going and looking back at it, only to forget about it? Maybe it’s a workout plan you stumbled upon on Pinterest or a Thotquote on Facebook, and you save it because damnit if that’s not a great quote!

It’s a quote that really speaks to you, tugs at your soul, and is a little deeper than the great, philosophical quote ‘live, laugh, love.’ Well, the image above is one of those quotes that when I read, really spoke to me. I saved it to my desktop and every so often, would look at it.

“I’m going to take a look at that later on,” I’d say – with every intention of doing that – writing the dream down with a date, break it into steps and then backing it with action. A lot of quotes online are bullshit, but there are a select few that, let’s be honest, are fucking awesome.

I think a lot of us have dreams and desires we want out of life. Some are fantasies that are just a passing fancy, something that pops in and out of our head, but is nothing more than that. Others, are thoughts we have that we actually believe are plausible. The thing is, unless we commit to that, it’ll never happen.

Ever.

Somebody once told me that if you want to do something, put a date on it and slap it on Facebook. The reason is because when you speak your goals, it’s one thing. But when you vocalize it to the world, it’s another. People who want to lose weight, but never do it, are often the ones who kind of kept it to themselves. The ones who made a plan, stuck to it, and actually vocalized it (no, I’m sorry, I can’t go out this weekend, I have to watch my eating) are the ones who made shit happen. 

Why is this? It’s because when you put that shit out there, most people who would never have the balls to do it, are watching your journey. They may not say anything, they may not validate your journey with a ‘like’ or some other shitty emoji, but they are watching. Failing will only embarrass you, and that’s why people won’t put their dreams out there. Whether it’s losing weight, producing music, writing a book, or going for that job, a lot of people keep it bottled up.

When rejection comes (and it will come) they feel like a failure, and they don’t want the embarrassment. 

For me, I don’t really care about the embarrassment. The embarrassment can suck a dick. I have no problem putting my shit out there because I believe I can do this, and it’s something I want. I try to stay motivated and I follow Tony Robbins and GaryVee religiously, and keep people in my life who are encouraging.

When I decided to take my writing professional, there was a small moment where I was beginning to doubt myself. I’d already put it out there that I wanted to have my work picked up by Netflix and turned into a series, so I had nothing to lose and I might as well go for it. But, I began to doubt myself because I started to see the big picture and how much time and energy it was going to take. I was still going to go for it, but in my discouragement, I opened up to my best friend and told her that I was having doubts about really pursuing it. 

I still remember saying, “but what if it fails,” and her response was with the confidence that only the closest people to you have, “but what if it doesn’t.”

While I may not have an actual date set for what I’m wanting to accomplish (some of it is contingent on others, such as getting a literary agent, editors, etc.,) I do know where I’m going. 

Regardless of the direction you, or anyone else is going in life, whatever dreams you have, it all comes down to action. Action is the only thing that produces results. You can believe the universe all you want, and visualize until you’re blue in the face, but until you back that shit up with some action, you’ll never get anywhere. 

Sometimes, it starts with something as simple as writing it down on a paper, and putting it out there.