Save the School of Gallantry

My Dearest Readers,

When I was in high school, I had a dream. I was going to be the next Stephen King. Heh. Yeah. Stay with me. Please. I knew my ideas were fabulous and I knew all it would take is for an editor to look at it and they would offer me up the moon and the stars and best of all, a contract. I had my girlfriends read everything I wrote. And they kept telling me, “This is fabulous! It's SO funny! Hilarious!” Seeing it really wasn't supposed to BE funny, I immediately changed course realizing I actually had a better handle on being funny than scary. I also figured adding a romance into it would even make it better since that is what I loved to read.

I then entered college as an English major. I was going to be teacher and write during the summers. Even then I was a smart girl who knew I wasn't going to make jack and that I needed a job to support the “creative” one. Throughout all of college I wrote historical romances. One right after another. And kept submitting. And submitting. And submitting. And kept getting rejected and rejected and rejected. In the meantime, I got married. I had two kids. I joined RWA. I got critique partners. I did honed and honed and honed the crap out of my writing. And kept writing and getting rejected. I eventually racked up over 200 rejections and had written over 40 books in those 11 years of trying to get published.

When I finally sold my first historical romance, MISTRESS OF PLEASURE, and my second book, LORD OF PLEASURE, I was beside myself. It didn't feel real. To FINALLY arrive at a destination I had been traveling toward for 11 long years seemed like a mirage. Which fortunately, I quickly snapped out of. Because after all, most of my friends are all published and unpublished writers and the stories they all have told me throughout the years made me realize I had to fight with fists up for myself every step of the way. I knew publishers did little to no promotion for their authors, so I spearheaded my own promo, ready to be more than just an author. And even though I was budgeting very well and spending countless hours networking and promoting on websites and blogs, doing tons for free, I still ended up spending $7,000 on my first book. Which was way more than my advance. But hey, every business starts in the red. Right?

Then the reviews started coming in about my series set in 1830 London England about a school that educates men on the topic of love and seduction. People loved it! Wow. It got nominated for awards. Wow. Readers are e-mailing me raving. Wow. Readers from France, Austria, Poland, South Africa and from all over the U.S and the world. Wow. It just kept getting better and better. I was beginning to feel as if every penny I spent was all worth it (even though my family and I weren't going on any vacations and were eating out of cans). Because all that mattered was that my publisher loved me and my readers loved my series.

Come contract time, I'm ready for whatever they wanna throw at me. Or so I thought. Mistress of Pleasure, though completely sold out and unavailable anywhere (unless it's a used copy, some going for a ridiculous amount of $40.00), hadn't done as well as my publisher had hoped. So without waiting for the second book to come out to see if the series was even worth saving, I get a rejection from my own editor citing lack of sales.

I have to say this rejection felt more personal than any of the other two hundred and some rejections I'd received. Because it was no longer “Your book isn't good enough” it became “Your sales aren't good enough.” Since when is an author supposed to be a market guru AND a fabulous writer? Eck.

I love this series. The men in it make me laugh and it broke my heart to think that my readers will never get a chance to read about Lord Brayton, my glorious male virgin. The only alpha virgin I ever plan to write about. Then I realized something, why I am letting a publisher decide what is worth holding on to? Shouldn't that be a reader's job?

Ah. Herein lies the purpose of my post. I am challenging everyone, be they readers or writers to help me do something that's never been done before. Save a series from a death sentence given by a publisher. Can it be done? Who knows. But I eat challenges for breakfast and I hope you do to. Please join me in saving my series. Come August 4th, tell everyone you know (yes, even you're 72 year old grandfather) to buy the book, Lord of Pleasure. In doing so, you'll have a chance to win one of three $50 Visa Gift Cards. How? Check out my website for details at http://www.delilahmarvelle.com/

That said, thank you for all the support and love everyone has already shown me. Feel free to post and repost this to everyone under the moon and the stars. To all you readers out there, thank you for supporting us writers. To all you writers out there, don't ever give up on your writing. The moment you do, you give up on yourself. Which is why I'm not giving up on my series.

Cheers and much love,
Delilah Marvelle

Filthy Shakespeare Part 2

My dearest Readers,

Here's a picture of Shakespeare very few see or recognize. It actually makes him look more savvy than that wizened, pudgy faced picture we're all used to seeing. It's a conspiracy, I tell you. To warp the way we look at Shakespeare. After all, he's SUPPOSED to be the father of all literary plays.

In last month's post, I touched upon how deliciously naughty Shakespeare was and how throughout the centuries his words had been deleted and altered to create "clean" versions of his works. After all, how could Shakespeare be considered "literary" and taken seriously by ANYONE if he's referring to sex, cunts, pricks, erections, ejaculations, buggery, lesbians, brothels, dildos, boobs, balls, pimps, and impotence???

As the book, "Filthy Shakespeare" by Pauline Kiernan brilliantly points out, William Shakespeare's name actually gave cause for eyebrows to be raised even then. For his name was a sexual pun in and of itself and quite literally meant "To Shake one's Spear" which was the definition of wanker. And "Will" was another word for "prick." So essentially, his name quite literally meant "Prick Wanker." No wonder the dude wasn't afraid to write about sex. His very own name set the tone of puns he was meant to write for the rest of his days.

As if that wasn't enough ammo for him, just a few years before Shakespeare was born there was a great scientific "rediscovery." Of the clitoris. Yes. In 1559 (Shakespeare was born in 1564). Greek medical writers had actually long documented extensively the location of the clitoris and that it could be stimulated outside of penetration, yet all of Europe somehow "forgot" about the clitoris (I think it was a freakin' conspiracy...Dan Brown should have seriously covered this in his Da Vinci book). With this "rediscovery" of the clitoris throughout Europe, it was becoming quite evident to men that a woman's pleasure could actually be controlled outside of a man. Which worried them to no end. There were public outcries about dildos being sold and used and what would happen to the population (and the men...). After all, the dildo was serious competition. It always hard, didn't create a mess, and there was no fear of disease or pregnancy attached. A dildo was almost a no brainer for a gal back in those days...

Needless to say, by the time Shakespeare stepped into the picture, lo, the man had plenty of stuff to write about, as the dildo and clitoris conspiracy was still going on. And write about the dildo conspiracy he did.

In THE WINTER'S TALE, the character Autolycus is selling "wares" when he arrives into Bohemia. I have to share the lines because it's really THAT good. Here is an excerpt (now remember, to "sing" is a pun on "fuck" and "fadings" refers to "orgasms"...keep this in mind as you read):

Servant: "He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes. No milliner can so fit his customers with gloves. He has the prettiest love songs for maids...with such delicate burdens of dildos and fadings, "Jump her and thump her"...

Autolycus (singing): "Pins and poking-sticks of steel, what maids lack from head to heel...come buy!"

Servant: "He has dildos for man or woman, of all sizes for all shapes of genitals and arses. No glove-maker can bring a female prostitute or male brother-goer so quickly to orgasm with his gloves. He has the sexiest dildos for virgins, such lightweight burdens of sensual dildos and refrains that sound like orgasms: "Jump into her and fuck her."

Autolycus (singing): "Pins and poking-sticks of steel, everything maids need from penis tip to heel. Come and buy!"

Now why is it we never read THIS is freakin' English Lit?! I'm sure none of the guys in my class would have complained about not understanding what the heck Shakespeare was talking about. Because, yes, sex IS a universal language. Which is why Shakespeare loved to touch upon it so much (yes, pun intended...). Bottom line, no matter who attended his plays, be they rich or poor, every adult understood the workings of sex and so it was a brilliant tool he used quite frequently and liberally in order to communicate with his audience to evoke humor as well as emotion (think of Romeo and Juliet's parting is such sweet sorrow scene). That said, I hope you now have a completely different take on Shakespeare and I hope you read the fabulous book "Filthy Shakespeare" and truly take the time to appreciate just how funny and witty and brilliant and naughty the man really was.

Cheers and much love,

Delilah Marvelle