Character analysis: The rakehell
Managed to develop the profile of a minor character – although to be honest, he’s been going round and round in my head for days, whispering sweet nothings into my ear in a deep, mellifluous baritone…
I now have a rake. Except because he isn’t the anti-hero or a main character, he remains a dissolute and unrepentant libertine, trailing crushed coquettes in his sexy wake. But he is yummy. And maybe even a little cruel. Because he’s based off Tom Ford.
Observe specimen below.
Now, the real Tom Ford might be a lovely human being. But the fact remains that he is sex on legs and makes metrosexualism drip testosterone. And men that devastating are usually also destructive. In books. And because I’m not overly keen to reform my hardened, worldly character and reduce him to putty by chapter 30, he shall remain hawt, haughty, and horrible.
He will break hearts, and drive one in particular to the arms of The Friend. It’s the proverbial bad boy we all love to hate, but love even more to tame and be ravished by. I’m going to have so much fun writing about this one.
The top 3 things that turn me off a book
I chanced upon a blog topic today, and couldn’t resist trying this one out.
List three things that make you hurl a book across the room
faster than seeing a spider on the wall.
And in no particular order,
- A bratty heroine
I once read a book by Audrey Howard and had to give up because I wanted so much to smack the living daylights out of the heroine. She was a thoroughly spoilt brat, and there’s nothing lovely or redeeming about a spoilt brat if she’s not even at least witty. I don’t care if she’s drop-dead gorgeous. I don’t care if she and the hero have wild, passionate nookie. And actually, it made me think even less of the man for wanting to stay with her, which I guess was what ultimately made me give up on the whole thing.
It’s the whole taming-of-the-shrew gambit really, but I absolutely loathe it when authors mistake “puerile” and “stroppy” for “headstrong” and “wild”. It’s also partly why I gave up on the whole Anita Blake series. Apart from the quick descent into Vampire Porn, Anita’s act-tough gig was just wearing thin on the nerves. Just shut up and do what you’re told by the 400 year old Vamp, chickie. Seriously. - The Huge Misunderstanding
Covered in detail by quite a few other bloggers, it’s one of my least favourite plot devices… but Pride and Prejudice redeems it, somewhat. That, and Emma with Mr Elton and Harriet. I guess a lot of it hangs on the delivery, although I’d prefer it if it weren’t the main plotline. - Lies, damned lies, and the imminent “murder will out”
Another very cringey one for me. I was trying out Georgette Heyer’s Arabella, and all was alright until Arabella, running on hurt pride and crazy adrenaline, started spinning such a stupidly obvious yarn about her non-existent riches to the hero, that I literally got nervous. I just couldn’t bear to get to the bit where her lie gets exposed, naked as a razed freshman left in the middle of a rugby field with nothing but a sock. I threw the book under the bed, and actually forgot all about it till now.
So there you go. I expect yours might be quite different.
When too much writing is not enough
I chanced upon Sarah Dessen’s blog today, and completely resonated with her post about social media burn out. Which is ironic, considering that I just started this blog. But not so ironic when you realise I have about 5 blogs, 2 Twitter accounts, a LinkedIn profile, Facebook, and a host of others I’d started and then left behind because they became so 2005.
And a day job. A bloody difficult day job.
Read Outspoken Media’s blog today about how blogging in particular is supposed to have leveled the publishing playing – when in actuality,
it just highlighted a large segment of the population that shouldn’t have been publishing in the first place. Because they couldn’t write. Or because they had nothing interesting to say.
Sadly, there are some days where I cannot write. And there are more days when I have absolutely nothing interesting to say that hasn’t already been covered by someone else more eloquent, and with infinitely more time. I don’t know who these online content generators are, but the ones who blog once a day? Who tweet every hour? Are either completely wired on coffee, or perhaps do social media-related things for a living. Because most times, I’m not even in the head space to blog about something. Let alone in front of a computer or handheld gadget with internet access sans corporate firewall.
So no, I haven’t figured it all out yet, Sarah. There’s a part of me that suspects I’m trying too hard to fit in with what society is now saying about thought leadership. As though thought leadership comes up with brilliance every three hours and tweets/blogs/posts/FBs with alarming alacrity and presence of mind. For now, I’m going to focus on why I want to blog about writing in the first place – and that’s mostly to feel like I’m going through this journey with other people who understand.
Even if Google hasn’t indexed this site yet. has only just started to index my site. In >72 hours! w00t!
