Perfection

I loved playing the game Perfection. The object - beat the clock to get all the funky shaped pieces where they belong before the timer goes and the pieces explode in your face. Fun game. Not a fun way to be.

Perfection

While not as terrifying to me as the word "risk" it reeks of negativity. To me the word perfection insinuates failure. It hints that there's something wrong with me. It screws with my confidence and magnifies my flaws, and I'm attached to some of my flaws. My flaws help me learn. They make up who I am. And part of being me means I write. When something threatens my ability to write, I go all Xena Warrior Princess and get my battle on.

I've gotta fight for the right to write!

Perfection comes with a cost.

It can cost you relationships if you expect it in others. It can cost you your health if you try and live up to someone else's idea of beauty and weight. It can cost you a job. It can get you to write the voice right out of your story. I tried so hard to make a story perfect that I lost my voice.

True story.

I tweaked and changed and twisted my words to make them fit something that in the end wasn't my story. I rewrote my characters until they were strangers. And my plot? Forget about it. Gone with the wind. Gone with my voice. Gone baby gone.

Messing around with all the unique and exciting elements to my story resulted in a humdrum and incomplete story. Humdrum because it didn't flow. Incomplete because it lacked voice. I didn't recognize my story anymore. All of my stories have some element of ME in them, yet I couldn't be found. I was a missing piece.

So I had this super clever idea: Start another story.
Guess what? I did the same thing to that story. I butchered it. At no point could I convince myself that it was good, because it wasn't perfect. I don't even know what perfect is. Soon I had ten unfinished and imperfect stories. All lacking voice. Months of work and nothing to show for it. I convinced myself that if I kept reworking the sentences it would be perfect. I lost my way and went down a dead end street. The words that I tried to fit into the story blew up in my face - just like in the game Perfection. I timed out. Game over.

Well...not over. Because like the game, I tried different tactics until I got it right. I worked at it and found a way to make the pieces fit. Nothing went boom.

I don't obsess about my stories the way I used to. I write and I edit and I allow myself to be heard. I know when I need to take a breath and hit send. I know when enough is enough.

I don't need to be perfect. I need to be me.

~Ann Cory

Success: Fear or Desire?

Do you desire success?

Do you fear the idea of success?

Most people understand fearing failure more than fearing success, but you can fear one or the other or both. You can desire success and doubt yourself. You can achieve success and fear what will happen next. You can convince yourself that you will never achieve the kind of success you desire, so why bother. You can fear success before you ever give it a shot because it’s an unknown, and maybe you don’t do well with unknowns.

Fear is powerful. It paralyzes us. It crushes our dreams. It keeps us from new experiences and adventures.

Fear makes us cling to our tried and true comfort zones. What’s wrong with comfort zones? They aren’t always the best place to be. Sure they’re comfortable, but that’s because we don’t have to think about them. There’s no surprise. There's no challenge. It’s like being on auto-pilot.

Fear makes us play the What If game: What happens if I’m asked to do more than I’m able? What happens if I have to make a choice between family and career? What if people don’t like me? What if people don’t like my work? What if I’m a one-hit wonder? What if even after all of my success, I still fail? It’s legitimate to have these fears and worries and stresses, but you need to have faith in yourself. Believe in your capabilities. You're here to learn and live and experience.

Each of us is capable of success. And I'm not talking about the kind of success measured by others. To be successful you need to be the best representation of yourself. Maybe that means raising personal expectations. Maybe that means putting less limitations on ourselves. Maybe it means a little more work, but it's the kind of work you can be proud of.

You can go as far as you want. You don't need the auto-pilot. You're in charge.

~Ann Cory

Derailed - Getting Back On Track

You know those personal and professional goals that you make with good intentions? You’ve found a balance of all the important aspects of your life and you can almost coast along with your eyes closed? You don’t of course, but you think you can. It’s a great place to be! But what if suddenly, out of nowhere, you get derailed? What if those goals and plans and daily progress get knocked for a loop? Ever had that happen to you?

*raises hand* I have.

In fact, that is part of why I haven’t updated my blog as often. I was enjoying a pretty nice pace and thought I had enough reserves in case life happened. But then…life happened. It only took two days for me to derail, and two weeks to get back on track. But the beauty is that you can always put yourself back on track.

How? Get back in the driver’s seat. You control that wheel. Just because you went left when you were supposed to go right doesn’t mean your entire trip is a bust. You may have to do some work. You may have to work hard. And you may have to fight off self-doubt and insecurities in the process. Remember that the end result is worth it because the end result is your success. You don’t have to throw your hands in the air and stay stuck. Realign yourself. The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll be back to making it happen. It’s not easy to right yourself, but it’s possible and you can do it.

Here’s my own personal motto that I made up: When your great intentions go astray – get back on track to find your way.

It may sound hokey, but you matter, and how you treat yourself matters. Nothing goes right all the time. It’s how we learn and grow. It’s how we find out what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes a little shake-up can be positive. It depends on how you react and how you recover.

~Ann Cory

Juggling: What Is Too Much?

According to the Juggling Information Service Committee on Numbers Juggling, Albert Lucas juggled thirteen rings for thirteen catches. Wow – that’s impressive. Thirteen sounds like a lot to juggle. Maybe too much, considering it’s a very rare feat and would take a lot of practice.

Many of us juggle far too many things than we should. Not always with success. In fact, usually it involves a lot of sacrifice of important things like exercise, eating right, getting enough sleep, and family time. You know, unless you have magical abilities or some other cool gift.

Most of us attempt to juggle as many things as we can in a day. I know I’m guilty of that, and I’m constantly working to scale back. If you’re always feeling harried, rushed, and like you never have enough time, it’s because you don’t. Why? Because you’re trying to fit in too much in your day. Do all of those things have to be done that day? Can one of those items wait another day? Does your house have to be spotless? Or can laundry wait another day? Do you want to be known for keeping a perfect house or for writing great fiction?

An area you may be guilty of is being a workshop junkie or a submission junkie. Hang on now, I’m all about learning. We are students of life, for life. I am not at all suggesting that you shouldn’t take out time everyday to learn more about your craft, or learn a new hobby. At the same time, it needs to fit in your day. It needs to make sense. You won’t learn well while you're juggling everything else too. And while you may have no shortage of fabulous ideas for stories, the world won’t stop if you save it for another time. If you're worried that you'll forget it, kick out a few paragraphs or jot down a brief outline, and then come back to it when you’ve completed the other eight you want to write.

If you want to be in this job for the long haul, why tax yourself early? Think longevity. Thing quality over quantity.

You know my posts are always written because of something I’m doing, dealing with, working through. I’ve gone the quantity over quality route. I’ve gone the never say no - I can do it all route. Am I a prolific writer? Yes I am. I understand this business and my part in it. But I’m not looking to fizzle out early. This isn’t a fifteen minutes of fame process. I aim to be around a long, long time, writing in many different genres. I will always strive to be better. But I have a life and a family, and they’re more important. Sure, the lives of my characters are important to me. I can put them into some very unsettling situations. In the end, the lives of the people I love (including myself) are more precious.

So before you try and throw another task up into the air, consider how many you’ve got going now. Take inventory and figure out what tasks can be set aside for later. Set a limit that works for you. There’s no need to try and do it all. Even if you can, what does it get you? Stress. Less time. Unhealthy habits.

Rather than take on one more activity, why not take that time to exercise? Make a healthy meal? Read a book. Close yourself off from the world. Unplug and walk away. Turn off the phone. Stop checking emails. You know you just sent that story in yesterday, so let it be.

Put all of the balls down for thirty minutes a day, and tune in to yourself. Yes, you can do it all. Yes, you are all that. Yes, your life is valuable, maybe more than that of your characters.

~Ann Cory

Vampire Hunter: Blood of the Vines Book One Coming Soon

Vampire Hunter: Blood of the Vines Book One - coming soon from Liquid Silver.

Blurb:

Tracking ruthless bloodsuckers isn’t all bad, especially when there’s a man around that slays your heart.

Once a vampire, now a vampire hunter, Regan Fellows walks a fine line with her reputation. Unable to afford her favorite Italian leather outfits, she takes any job she’s offered. When the owner of The Vines, a popular nightclub, asks her to investigate strange goings-on within her establishment, she doesn’t refuse.

Her investigation takes a disturbing turn as Regan explores the labyrinth of rooms within The Vines. She discovers blood-filled carboys, discarded bodies, and shadows that follow her every move.

But blood, bodies, and shadows aren’t the only problems. Sexy bartender, Garrett Reynolds is a bona-fide distraction, and flawless at the art of breaking down her resistance. Even in the midst of tracking a ruthless horde of vampires, Regan can’t deny him. And that attraction puts her in more danger than any job she’s ever accepted.

This is the first book in the Blood of the Vines Trilogy

Excerpt

Regan Fellows walked swiftly along the desolate streets, dodging broken glass and rain puddles, her eyes intent on the night prowlers. The downtown dive was nearby the location she’d been asked to meet up, the place the young woman on the phone had called The Vines. Burned out streetlamps made it difficult to see clearly, and an onslaught of garbage coated the sidewalks. It seemed a place where the trash walked and fit right in.

A bitter wind nipped at her cheeks as she picked up the pace. She pulled the collar of her leather jacket up further as a shield. Her new Italian black leather pants with matching jacket seemed to hold up well for the late autumn weather, though she should’ve thought twice about the skimpy top. Her nipples pressed tight against the lace of her bra, making her wince.

At the corner of Fifth and Halsey, Regan stopped. An obscure wrought-iron sign dangled in the breeze that read The Vines. For a supposed popular nightclub, it looked seedy. Her stomach knotted. A new job always wreaked havoc on her nerves, especially when she ended up in some sordid place. Those who knew about her line of work were often the ones she needed to be wary of. She acknowledged the dangers of her job, but she needed money to afford her fetish for high quality Italian leather.
With a deep breath, she turned the knob and entered.

She followed a winding metal staircase down into a sea of writhing, undulating bodies on a red-lit dance floor. The bass of the music vibrated so deep it shook each step. At the bottom step, a petite redhead greeted her, a tray of drinks balanced in her hand. “Welcome to The Vines. Have a seat wherever you can find one.”

Regan nodded and pressed the faux flap of skin around her neck.

“Thanks. I wondered if you could help me. I’m looking for a woman by the name of Selena. She asked me to meet her here.”

The waitress primped her corkscrew curls. “Sure, I’ll let her know you’re here. And you are?”

“Regan. She’s expecting me.”

Curls bobbing, the redhead nodded. “I’ll let her know. It might be a few minutes before I can flag her down. Have to serve customers.”

Regan shrugged. “No worries. I’ll wait at the bar.”

She tracked the young woman until she disappeared into the crowd of dancers, and then made her way to the other side of the room. Hands groped her body as she passed, some lingering longer than others. Already the temperature in the room had spiked ten degrees.

At one time, this scene would’ve worked for her. Back when she’d been naïve and curious. Addicted to the euphoric high of nonstop sexual energy as she danced naked with strangers. Wrecked in body and soul for a single drop of their blood.
But this wasn’t her scene anymore.

At the bar, Regan plopped on a stool and admired the selection of wine bottles along the shelves. Not much of a drinker, she’d never really learned the fine art of tasting wine, though she’d enjoyed several specialty Italian wines once on a weekend Tuscan getaway.

Regan turned and eyed the dance floor packed with obscenely beautiful people all outfitted in black. They danced like a raging sea, bodies gyrating and grinding to the hypnotic music. Aroused, a carnal yearning brewed inside her.

One couple eyed her with a scintillating stare. They caressed their bodies, not averting their gaze from her. Desire flickered between her thighs. She spread her legs and palmed the crotch of her leather pants. The dancers moved their hands as well. Trembling, she felt their hands reach between her legs, beneath her pants, opening her wide. She gasped, certain she’d climax right there.

Breath labored, Regan wrested her gaze away, and the erotic stimulation ended. Deep breath in, she fanned herself. She’d have to be on her guard or get lost in the night games taking place.

Damp and red-cheeked, she faced the bar, finding an attractive dark-haired, green-eyed bartender smiling back at her.

Her pussy throbbed.

“What’s your poison, beautiful?”

Regan swept her gaze along his broad shoulders, strong chin, and deep-set eyes. His voice matched his sex appeal. Speechless, she struggled to come up with the name of anything, let alone a drink.

She straightened and cleared her throat. “Anything would be fine, I’m not picky.”

“Good to know.” He selected a large-bowled goblet from a crystal glass rack that hung above the bar and set it in front of her. Her body tingled at the ease with which he moved.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and stared intently. “We carry only the finest vintages here.”

She squirmed on the stool. His voice, his hands, his piercing eyes heightened her arousal. Rarely did she find herself tongue-tied in the presence of a man.

“Whatever you recommend will be fine. I trust your expertise.”

Hell, she’d trust his hands all over her body.

His smoldering gaze deepened, igniting her body like it was kindle. The tip of his mouth curved upwards as he rolled his sleeves to his elbows.

“Very well. A glass of our finest red. Only the best should slip between your lips and coat your tongue.”

She squeezed her thighs at the decadent words. Powerless to look away, she watched the corded muscles of his forearms strain against his flesh as he uncorked a bottle and filled the goblet midway. The deep, ruby liquid swirled with sinful flare.

“Why don’t you start with this and tell me what you think.” He slid the glass closer to her and winked. “Consider this one on the house.”

Lips trembling, she mumbled, “Thank you.”

Their fingertips touched as she went for her glass. The brief contact resurrected her arousal, and her throat thickened. Now, more than ever, she needed a drink. As if to taunt her more, Handsome leaned across the counter and propped his chin in his hands.

“Enjoy.”

His masculine scent assaulted her senses and she fought to hold the goblet. Provocative thoughts of pouring the wine down her body and watching him savor her skin with his tongue took her mind hostage.

Regan inhaled the wine and swished the glass as she’d seen true connoisseurs do. Her pulse quickened. The heady aroma, dangerously familiar. She glanced at the dark-haired hunk and admired his chiseled features. He didn’t give the impression of someone she needed to worry about. She tipped the goblet, the rim against her bottom lip. A thin stream of liquid swilled forward, her taste buds, craving.

Behind her a voice shouted, “You reckless son of a bitch! Don’t serve her that!”

Regan didn’t have a chance to turn around. The goblet flew from her hands, spiraled through the air, hit the back wall and shattered.

(copyright 2012)

Ann Cory

Support Matters

Ladies, make sure you’ve got a proper fitting bra, and gentlemen, make sure you’ve got the right fitting belt. What the heck am I on about? I’m talking about support.

We all need it. Even if it’s just a little bit. None of us do well for long when we’re out there flailing around or riding low. Hence those bras and belts! It doesn’t matter what size you are, this is a one-size fits all kind of deal.

Everyone benefits from support. It’s a wonderful gift to give someone. Who doesn’t benefit from a pat on the back or a spirited “well done” every once in awhile? Who doesn’t benefit from the knowledge that they aren’t alone and don’t have to feel like they’re alone when they try a new job, story, or project? Everyone benefits!

And even more rewarding, not only does it feel good to have someone support you, it’s a boost to be supportive.

When you work hard and put all of yourself into your task, it’s nice to know someone is there to cheer you on and help pick you up on the days you question what you’re doing.

I’m lucky to have a wonderful support system at home. I can write anything and I know that my hubby is proud of me. But it isn’t just about supporting my actual work, he supports my business ethics. He finds ways to help make my office more functional by building shelves, installing the right kind of lighting, and creating ways to help me stay organized. He's my tech support and personal handyman. He’s also fun to storyboard with when my characters are running amok, and provides me with emotional support when a deadline looms or I second-guess myself. Yeah, it happens.

Not everyone has support from their family. And you may have close friends who can't provide you with the support you're looking for, but that doesn't mean you're doomed to be a loner forever. Take the initiative and email someone in your line of work/genre/project and see where it goes? You may have to do the initial work to find someone, but after you do, it becomes a team thing. *pom pom swish*

Write a list of traits you're looking for and seek out like-minded people. Strike up conversations and see where they go. You won't know until you try. I mean, unless you know exactly what you're looking for, you tend to try on a few of those bras and belts, don't you? *wink*

If you're looking for some extra motivation to hit your goals and stay accountable, then sign up for Write Motivation. After only a week, I feel jazzed about what I'm doing. Faulty thinking is banished. Negativity - poof, it's gone. Knowing people are rooting you on is inspiring. Course I always did like those gold stars back in grade school. In a single click, there's someone in your corner :) Talk about motivation!

There’s no need to feel alone. Get active in finding your support system. And then get active by being supportive!

~Ann Cory

First Campaigner Challenge

For me, Monday usually comes with its own set of challenges, especially if I've stayed up late the night before. However, there are some challenges I welcome.

The First Campaigner Challenge started today in the form of a 200 word story with a beginning of Shadows crept across the wall. For a bonus the story should be exactly 200 words (excluding the title), include orange, and end with everything faded.

So below is my entry for the challenge.

Enjoy!

The Promise of Night
By Ann Cory

Shadows crept across the wall beyond the reddish-orange flames that flickered like a beacon. Peyton lay in wait, her bare flesh warm against the cool satin sheets. Sprigs of lavender on her bedside table infused the air with its soothing scent, while the moon dimmed its ethereal beams.

As the shadows neared, her pulse skipped.

Eyes closed, she stretched her body and welcomed the feathery kisses along her skin. A smile tipped her lips. The promise of a night bathed in pleasure, mere moments away. Aware of movement on either side of her, she tensed. Trails of heated splendor ran the length of her thighs. Unseen hands awakened and aroused her inch by inch.
Peyton released a soft moan. They were skilled lovers and knew what she liked, wanted, desired. They knew where to touch, tease, and taunt. She didn’t know why they’d chosen her. She didn’t care. Loneliness no longer plagued the hours before dawn.

Arms stretched above her head, she played the submissive. Body arched, she melted at the parting of her thighs. Tonight her ravenous appetite would be sated.

***

As she opened her eyes, the sun painted the walls in buttery shades, and with it, everything faded.

Whew! Such fun :)

To view others involved in the challenge, you can follow this link here.

Thank you to everyone who stops by - I look forward to reading your entries!

~Ann Cory

Promo Sapphic Planet Anthology release day!

Sapphic Planet Anthology is here and available from Amazon.

Inside these pages you'll discover nineteen stories written specifically to tease and titillate your senses.

From a frolic in the rain with a Bathing Beauty, to a concerned sibling showing his sister some Brotherly Love, and everything in between. Whether you're in the mood for steamy romance or unrequited lust, we've got a story guaranteed to satisfy your cravings.

This anthology showcases just a fraction of the talent from the writers of Sapphic Planet, a group specifically created for authors and aspiring authors of quality lesbian literature

Now sit back, relax and enter our world. Afterwards, while waiting to catch your breath, take a moment to visit us online Sapphic Planet


TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Allison Wonderland-----Bathing Beauty------------
Jean Roberta--------------Fame-----------------------
Kissa Starling------------An Act of Passion---------
Jodi Payne----------------Licked----------------------
Jennifer Cross------------Patience--------------------
Dylynn DeSaint----------Haircut---------------------
JT Langdon---------------Eyes of Surrender--------
Nan Andrews-------------Her Smile-----------------
Meg Leigh----------------Two Steps Back-----------
Fiona Zedde---------------‘Love, Zora’---------------
Ann Cory------------------Her Forever----------------
Adriana Kraft-------------Accidental Contact--------
Dalia Craig----------------A Secret Liaison-----------
Stephanie Rose------------Traffic Stop----------------
Tenille Brown-------------Taming Tildy--------------
Kira Chase-----------------Seduced---------------------
Moondancer Drake-------Top Priority-----------------
Roxy Katt------------------The Ungirdling-------------
Beth Wylde----------------Brotherly Love-------------

Blurb from Ann Cory’s story Her Forever:

On the night before her arranged marriage, Callista waits beneath the moon for her true love, Selena, for a final night of passion.

Sapphic Planet - a literary realm where women are free to love one another without fear of prejudice or reprisal.

~Ann

Strengths and Weaknesses

This weekend I updated my strength chart.

What’s a strength chart? A visual chart of my strengths and weaknesses to show me the areas I need to work on. I actually have two separate charts. One is personal and the other is professional. I’m going to focus on my professional chart today.

When I first made the chart, I had a longer list of weaknesses than strengths. Over time the weakness list has decreased. But that's okay, I don't mind having weaknesses. They give me a goal to strive toward.

In life, we are students forever. We can learn and grow each day. We can better ourselves all the time. If you want to try a new career or write in a new genre, or develop new healthy habits through diet and exercise, you take the time to learn. You study, research, and analyze. You create processes<---that's for my hubby, record data, test theories, and put forth the action. You find what works, what doesn't work, and where to improve. We can always improve.

I spend time each day learning something new. I study my craft, read books on the business of writing, research, look up new ways to plot and develop. My brain is a total sponge and loves to absorb everything. I would do well on a game show about random facts and tidbits.

Each of us can list a number of strengths, skills, and talents. Some of my strengths on my chart include: coming up with catchy titles, writing short stories, quick learner, fast typer, constant supply of creative ideas, determination, passion, perseverance, wit, motivational, and writing sensual tension.

And while it's wonderful to focus only on strengths, it's just as important to pay attention to weaknesses. I choose one area of weakness each month and work on it until it’s on my strength chart. This can be areas of grammar, character development, world building, complex plots, or passive voice.

You'd think at some point my weakness chart will be blank. But no...I'm human, I'm not perfect, nothing comes easy for me, and I'm a student for life. There are always areas I can work and improve. A chart is a great visual to show me where to work, and keep me balanced.

Do you keep track of your strengths and weaknesses? What are some areas you'd like to improve?